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Which might make one wonder: Why is Subaru not the Subaru of EVs?

When the Rivian R3 rolled onto the stage in Orange County, car fans saw a flicker of the past. The truncated EV reminded automotive Twitter and Threads of throwback off-road hatchbacks with unusual shapes — the Lancia Delta, AMC Gremlin, Lada Niva, and even the maligned Yugo. It reminded me, in spirit more than silhouette, of the Subaru Outback from a quarter-century ago.
Remember the old Outback? Before it blew up and became just another crossover in a sea of indistinguishable cars, the Outback was a two-tone granola wagon with lesbian cred and font stylings borrowed from Raiders of the Lost Ark. It was a cobbled-together quirky legend built for specific tribes, particularly those who wanted to traverse the craggy roads and highways of America’s backcountry. Its sluggish acceleration couldn’t compare with a futuristic torque monster like the R3 will be, yet it inspired a cult following among the road atlas generation of adventurers that Rivian hopes to duplicate in the age of massive touchscreens.
Even as its cars became more generic and ordinary in the 21st century, Subie kept its marketing efforts aimed at the outdoorsy, dog-loving folks who had become loyal to the brand. However, while its fans are the kind of people with a clear, vested interest in addressing climate change, the world’s “we love the parks” car company has dragged its toes on joining the electric vehicle revolution that hopes to slash the car industry’s carbon emissions. Subaru’s electric aversion left a giant hole in the market for an adventure EV, one that Rivian seeks to fill.
We’ve been hard on Toyota for coasting on the sustainability reputation of the Prius. The world’s largest automaker has been content to tout its “electrified” lineup of mostly hybrids and plug-in hybrids, waiting for EV technology and infrastructure to mature before it jumps in. Subaru, for all its exercises in Earth mother branding, has done the same.
To its credit, Subie made most of its cars follow “partial zero emissions” standards reflected by the PZEV badge you see on the back of a modern Forester. This means the engine burns normal gasoline, but is built with characteristics that reduce smog-forming air pollutants. PZEV tech does nothing to reduce a car’s greenhouse emissions, but it’s about the best a non-hybrid, plain-old combustion car can do.
But Subaru never bothered to build even a Prius-esque MPG-maximizer. And it has been even more reluctant than its partner, Toyota, to join the battery revolution. Subaru’s only entry, the now-canceled plug-in hybrid variant of the Crosstrek, posted a paltry 17 miles of electric range before reverting to gas. According to Green Car Reports, the hybrid Crosstrek was effectively a “compliance car” — something automakers build to satisfy stringent regulations like the state of California’s, not because they believe in the vehicle.
The Crosstrek PHEV can die because Subaru finally has an EV: the Solterra, built on the tech platform Subaru developed in cahoots with Toyota. It is the same car as Toyota’s debut EV, the bZ4x, but with Subaru badges. The Solterra’s angular looks surely will appeal to somebody, and the car will satisfy superfans’ desire for any fully electric Subaru. But the Solterra is an uninspired crossover with a 228-mile range that can’t compare with the current state of the art. It certainly hasn’t generated the reaction of the R3.
For those willing to ignore the climate crisis, the naked business case for ignoring zero-emission technology in the present is clear. Even as the EV age bubbles up around them, the least-electric car brands are selling lots and lots of cars. Americans bought more than 15 million vehicles in 2023, and 632,000 of them were Subarus, a 14% increase from the year before. Subaru didn’t lose money on EVs like Ford has as it tries to establish its battery business. With EVs now stuck between early adopters and the mainstream, it’s possible to make the case that the holdouts are cynical, but smart.
It’s also not easy to build an electric car that does what a Subaru is supposed to do. I’ve driven across the empty expanses of the American West in a two-wheel-drive Tesla Model 3 that started its life with an EPA-rated 240 miles per charge. It was challenging. Subzero temperatures at Bryce Canyon punished the battery. The craggy, icy road into Canyonlands National Park pushed the iffy ground clearance to its limit. The range was barely enough for us to tempt fate by leaving the interstate and crossing the rugged interior of Utah, a decision that saw me end up borrowing — you guessed it — a friendly stranger’s old Subaru Outback while my Tesla charged.
You’d want an small electric vehicle built for adventure to ride taller and go farther. Well, they built one. It’s a Rivian. The rally car-inspired R3 promises to pair fat tires and promising ground clearance with outdoorsy-minded details such as fold-flat seats, a movie-projecting rooftop tent, and a rear-mounted cargo box. The new Rivians should come with at least 300 miles of range, which ought to be enough to reach most far-flung locales as the map of fast-charging stations continues to fill in.
This isn’t to say Subie doomed itself by dithering. For all the excitement over Rivian’s new offerings, the R2 remains at least two years away from realization, and the little R3 even longer. Besides, Rivian’s biggest obstacle isn’t Subaru, but survival. The startup burns through billions of dollars each year and needs to persist on sales of its large, expensive R1 SUVs and trucks until the mass-market models go on sale.
In the meantime, Subaru could trot out a battery-powered Crosstrek and sell a bunch of them to people who’ve been buying fossil fuel Subies for decades. That looks like the plan: The brand now says it will launch a quartet of EV crossovers (possibly the current Crosstrek-Outback-Forester-Ascent lineup, but electric) by 2026, just in time to compete with the R2 and R3, and build 400,000 EVs per year by 2028.
Yet something has been lost. Every time Subaru trots out a new gas-burning vehicle on a stage meant to mimic the high desert or advertises its corporate contributions to the National Park system, it tries to reinforce its status as the car for the Earth-conscious. Stalling on EVs may have been the easy business decision, but the brand has given away excitement that it could have owned, if only they’d trotted out an EV with the spirit of that quirky old Outback.
Or do an Impreza hot hatch EV. As the response to the R3 demonstrated, we’re ready.
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Americans paid $217 on average for electricity last month, according to Heatmap and MIT’s Electricity Price Hub.
July is typically the season of high electricity bills, and this year is no exception.
Nationally, the average electricity bill spiked to $217, an all-time high, according to new data from Heatmap and MIT’s Electricity Price Hub. That’s up from $177 in June, and $215 last July. Meanwhile, electricity rates were 19 cents per kilowatt-hour, virtually unchanged from June and slightly higher than July of last year.
Throughout the country, many ratepayers are seeing higher costs and charges in the portion of their bill covering the cost of power generation.
Once again, some of the most notable electricity price and bill trends were seen in the mid-Atlantic region, the heart of the data center boom and the anchor area of the PJM Interconnection. The region also includes Virginia, where Florida utility and energy developer NextEra is attempting to acquire the commonwealth’s dominant utility, Dominion.
In July, Dominion customers saw typical generation charges rise to $155 a month, up from $124 a year ago. Overall bills for Dominion customers were about $259 this past month.
The higher bills are in part due to the “fuel charge rider” that went into effect this past month to help recover about $1 billion in additional generation costs claimed by the utility. Those charges stem in part from higher fuel costs this past winter, when natural gas prices spiked to their highest level since the winter of 2022-23, Dominion officials said in a filing to the state’s utilities regulator. The MIT researchers estimate that the fuel charge added around $53 to July bills, up $12 from July of last year.
In neighboring Delaware, bills were $216 a month in July, a record high, while prices were around 19 cents per kilowatt-hour. Customers of the state’s main utility, Delmarva Power, saw a near 20% hike in the supply charge in their standard service offerings, as prices rose from around 16 cents per kilowatt-hour from last year.
The Delaware Public Service Commission voted at the beginning of last month to allow an interim rate increase of about $3 per month for the typical customer, which went into effect July 9. Soon after, Delaware Governor Matt Meyer signed a law giving the state’s regulators more discretion to reject putting certain utility costs into the rate base and thus limit subsequent price hikes requested by utilities. The governor’s office described the law as a mechanism “to prioritize prudent spending over unchecked cost recovery.”
The new vehicle — with a price tag just shy of $30,000, all in — represents the storied U.S. automaker’s big swing at winning entry-level buyers.
Ford’s electric moonshot, the mid-size pickup truck that would get it back into the EV race, finally has a name: Fathom.
The Detroit giant announced the name of its long-anticipated, highly mysterious vehicle on Thursday, alongside its price and some of its specs. The Ford Fathom will cost $28,350, not including delivery and destination fees that take its price right up to the 30-grand mark — $29,945, to be precise. Ford says it will start taking reservations early next year and deliver the first pickups later in 2027.
We don’t yet know the battery range or, crucially, what it’ll look like, as Ford is holding back the visual reveal. What we can say is that, as a mid-size pickup, the Fathom should be around the size of the gas-powered Ford Maverick, which has a near-identical starting price. Without getting into dimensions, Ford promises it will have more passenger volume than Toyota’s ubiquitous RAV4 SUV, with a frunk and a truck bed to boot.
Ford says every Fathom will be BlueCruise-capable, referencing the company’s hand-free driving assistant for highway travel. Fathom will also feature bi-directional power capability, enabling the battery to double as home energy storage, as well as embedded Apple Maps on its large touchscreen. Importantly, it will retain compatibility with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, which has become a dealbreak for many drivers.
Fathom will be the first EV produced on Ford’s Universal EV Platform, the technology setup that has been under development at the company’s skunkworks operation in Long Beach, California. I visited there this spring to see the team that was, far from the glare of the suits in Detroit, trying to reinvent the company’s EV manufacturing strategies so it could make better and more affordable electric cars. Even then, though, I couldn’t get a look at the Fathom — or any other car designs that may or may not be under way there, as they were all still under wraps.
The skunkworks project is all about process. Ford was losing billions on its previous generation of EVs, led by the Ford F-150 Lightning and Mustang Mach-E, despite the relatively high sticker price of those cars. Engineers tried to mimic some of the stripped-down, iterative strategies of smaller firms and startups — such as stripping miles of wiring out of the vehicles — to work faster and simplify manufacturing, thereby cutting costs.
That work has allowed Ford to start the Fathom at effectively $30,000, placing it smack within the range of America’s most affordable electric vehicles. Its most obvious competitor would be the Slate EV truck, which has just begun to take reservations. Slate starts at about $25,000, but that price gets you a bare-bones pickup with roll-up windows and a plain gray exterior. Add enough a la carte features to make the truck technologically competitive with something like the Fathom and it, too, would cost around $30,000.
At the price, the Ford Fathom is also directly competitive with entry-level EVs like the new Chevy Bolt and Nissan Leaf. But as a mid-sized truck, Fathom would be more spacious and practical than a vehicle like a Bolt, while coming in well below the $35,000 starting cost of a bigger crossover like the Chevy Equinox EV.
Ford, in its announcement, ruminated on the meanings behind the “Fathom” moniker. The company wanted its crucial new EV to have a name, not an alphanumeric code like the Ford F-150. Fathom was chosen because of its twin meanings: the classical unit of measure for water depth, and the verb meaning to deeply and fully understand something.
The implication is that the Fathom EV is meant to comprehend the customer and what they want out of an electric truck. How Ford’s pickup measures up to their aspirations depends greatly on details about this vehicle that are not yet known. But just putting out a battery-powered pickup truck for under $30,000 is a great start.
Current conditions: The heat dome in the American Southwest is worsening, with temperatures in Phoenix set to climb as high as 110 degrees Fahrenheit • The wildfires in Greece have killed at least five people as thermometers in Athens near the triple digits • Sri Lanka’s sprawling capital of Colombo is in the midst of a week of intense thunderstorms.
The Department of Defense halted reviews of onshore wind projects in May on national security grounds, a move that my colleague Jael Holzman described at the time as “extrajudicial” and that would ultimately “murder an American industry.” Now the judiciary is getting involved. On Tuesday, U.S. District Judge Karin Immergut, a Trump appointee, indicated that she would likely find in favor of a coalition of renewable energy groups that sued the Trump administration to restart reviews. At the start of a two-hour hearing, Courthouse News Service reported from the federal courthouse in Portland, Oregon, Immergut said there was “strong evidence the government had violated statutory and regulatory deadlines” when the Pentagon stopped carrying out routine reviews needed to progress federal permits for wind turbines to the Federal Aviation Administration.

The Trump administration is preparing to impose new tariffs and minimum import prices on polysilicon in a bid to prop up a domestic supply chain for the primary ingredient in semiconductors and solar panels. The decision, due out after the market closes today, will set a tariff of at least 15% on imported polysilicon and set baseline prices for each component in the supply chain, from the raw material derived from purified quartz to solar wafers, cells, and modules, sources familiar with talks told me, confirming broad details first reported by Reuters and Bloomberg. The Department of Commerce plans to delay implementation to allow domestic manufacturers that rely on imported components time to adjust, and provide offsets to companies that make major investments in the U.S. The policy will serve as a key lifeline to solar manufacturers, who lost one of their main incentives to buy made-in-America panels when the investment and production tax credits for solar effectively ended last month. But industry sources told me that the new trade restrictions would likely fall short of incentivizing new manufacturing, and would require more support on the demand side. The dynamic mirrors what my colleague Matthew Zeitlin called the “paradox of Trump’s critical mineral crusade,” whereby the administration pulled out all the stops to boost mining of rare earths and lithium while eliminating the landmark electric vehicle tax credit that ensured a domestic market for those metals.
It’s hardly the only protectionism the Commerce Department is attempting this month. On Thursday, the agency plans to publish a temporary final rule that would block exports of battery scraps and tungsten waste without a special waiver from the Bureau of Industry and Security. Producers of the materials, E&E News reported, would be required to sell in the U.S. for one year. The move comes a week after President Donald Trump signed a memo blocking exports of mineral-rich waste as the White House seeks to shore up supplies of metals for weapons production. Tungsten, as the Bloomberg “Odd Lots” podcast explained nicely in a recent episode, has a very high melting point, making it ideal for artillery and ammunition. While it’s typically in demand in low amounts during peace time, soaring interest is a sign of widening global conflicts.
For retail investors, Oklo emerged as the face of the small modular reactor industry in 2024 after the Silicon Valley nuclear darling debuted on the stock market. But the company hadn’t yet split atoms. Last night, the company’s low-power test reactor in Texas sustained a reaction for the first time. The milestone makes Oklo the fifth company in the Department of Energy’s Reactor Pilot Program to achieve criticality, but the first to do so on private land. Oklo boasted that the company had erected the facility at a previously undeveloped greenfield site in less than a year, demonstrating that “American nuclear deployment timelines can be measured in months rather than years,” the company said in a press release.
The move comes five months after the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, which notoriously rejected Oklo’s first attempt at gaining approval for its power plant reactors, approved the company’s plans to produce medical isotopes from low-powered reactors, as I exclusively reported in this newsletter at the time.
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Two House Democrats formally referred Secretary of Energy Chris Wright to the Department of Justice for potential prosecution, accusing him of lying to Congress when asked whether the agency canceled green grants for partisan reasons. In a letter published Wednesday in The Hill, Representatives Zoe Lofgren of California and Gabe Amo of Rhode Island, alleged that Wright lied when he testified his blocking of billions in climate spending had nothing to do with the money going to states that voted for Democrat Kamala Harris in the 2024 election. In a federal lawsuit related to the same award terminations, Energy Department lawyers admitted that “the inclusion of grants in the October notice tranche was based solely on the political identity of the grant recipient’s state” Wright previously testified that politics had no role in the decisions. “Secretary Wright lied to the Committee with his statements, which sought to prevent us from learning the truth: that the October award terminations were an act of political retaliation,” Lofgren and Amo wrote in the letter, addressed to acting Attorney General Todd Blanche. “In doing so, he violated 18 USC §1001, which bars individuals from making ‘any materially false, fictitious, or fraudulent statement or representation’ to Congress. We have no choice but to refer Secretary Wright to the Department of Justice for potential prosecution in this matter.”
In 1978, the U.S. used millions more tons of coal than today. Yet miners in Appalachia are facing rates of pneumoconiosis — the incurable, fatal disease known as black lung — at exactly the same levels today. That’s the finding of new data published Wednesday in the American Journal of Respiratory and Critical Care Medicine. Miners in Kentucky, Virginia, and West Virginia who had spent at least 25 years working underground had by far the worst rates, with one in three testing positive in X-rays conducted by the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health, a federal agency. “I’m disgusted,” Scott Laney, a NIOSH research epidemiologist who is the lead author of the research letter, told NPR. “This is not going to get better because of all the disease that’s already in the pipeline. These guys are being treated like disposable widgets, not human beings. … We’re watching them die right before our eyes.”
Your humble correspondent is due for a series of flights this afternoon. I lose little sleep over my personal carbon footprint; I don’t find it a useful metric, and even if I did, I live in New York City, so my family’s life in dense housing and reliance on public transit already places me well below most Americans. But I can’t help but think of it when I’m riding multiple planes in one day. Which makes this new Bloomberg feature so exciting. In Brazil’s Minas Gerais state, more than 200 researchers are working to commercialize jet fuel made from the oil-rich fruit of the macauba palm tree. Across 356,000 acres, the Abu Dhabi-based biofuels producer Acelen Renováveis plans to start processing macauba oil as part of a $3 billion project. The effort is meant to help the push to reduce airlines’ carbon intensity, but — as with biofuels in general — it’s worth considering the climate benefits with healthy doses of skepticism until detailed analyses come out.