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Elon Musk’s cars are woke now?

If you ever get the sudden, inexplicable urge to give yourself a headache, try searching for “woke electric cars” or “woke electric vehicles.” Whether your preferred flavor of headache involves articles, YouTube videos, or just memes, you’re in for an endless sea of anti-EV screeds — often fueled by misinformation or outright disinformation — on social media or on right-leaning news outlets.
Their arguments usually go something like this: EVs are “a tool of tyranny” being “forced” on us as the government takes away our precious gas cars; they run out of power too easily and will leave you stranded at the first sign of bad weather; they’ll leave the U.S. in permanent thrall to China, or kill our auto industry outright; and they’re worse for the environment than internal combustion engines, and thus aren’t going to fix climate change — which isn’t real anyway. (I think that about sums it up.)
I never see this sort of “content” coming from people with a deep understanding of the evolution of automotive technology, or batteries, or anything else that might qualify them to weigh in here. Usually, they’re from your garden-variety opinion-section cranks, or cynical grifters who make a living off their viral hits, or 40-year veterans of oil industry comms. You know the type. But they’re all very vocal in saying that electric cars, essentially, are woke. And while none of them can define what that means, it is clearly very bad.
The sentiment is spreading into our wider consciousness now, and that goes for the whole world, as The Guardian pointed out recently. Here in America, look no further than our presidential race to find examples. Former President Donald Trump — despite having once touted an electric-car startup as a savior of jobs in the Midwest — has railed against EVs as something that will “decimate” auto manufacturing states like Michigan. And amid the rallies he holds in between his various court dates, he’s taken to delivering rants like this one, about a “friend” who needed “two hours” to charge an electric car on a road trip.
Trump’s knowledge of the workings of the auto industry is suspect on a good day. But as goes Trump, so goes the rest of the field. Republican candidates like Vivek Ramaswamy and Nikki Haley have lashed out against EVs in similar ways. This summer, Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis vetoed a Republican-sponsored bill back home designed to save the state $277 million by adding EVs to government fleets. DeSantis went this route, as many critics pointed out, really only after Trump stepped up his anti-EV rhetoric; last year the governor was happy to award nearly $70 million to secure fleets of electric transit buses in his state.
DeSantis must have seen the way the wind is blowing on the right, and it’s toward making sure EVs are portrayed as rolling symbols of a failing Biden administration. That’s part of it, for at least some conservatives; but another part is a general disdain of anything seen as “green,” or the continued perception that EVs are just golf cars, unlike manly, macho, V8-powered cars. (That argument also doesn’t hold up when an electric Kia can hang with a Lamborghini in a drag race.) Either way, cars that run on electrons have become embroiled in our never-ending culture wars, and that will only get worse as this election cycle continues.
But there are countless reasons that framing the auto industry’s gradual move to EVs as a cultural issue simply doesn’t hold up:
EVs are just technology, nothing more. An evolution in how cars work, in line with the same trajectory gasoline cars took for decades: more powerful, more efficient, more high-tech. And yes, those moves often followed stricter fuel economy and emissions regulations here and abroad. But most car companies now are global entities; to compete, they have to offer the newest and best or they’ll be left behind. You might even call it the free market at work and right now, the market is speaking: Though many buyers are currently deterred by the high price of this new technology, this year is still on track to be a record one for EV sales as more and more car companies offer new options.
If EVs are woke, then so is electronic fuel injection, forced induction, airbags, power steering … how back in time do we need to go until the cars aren’t woke? Hand-crank starters? The Model T?
America has always subsidized or protected its car industry. Many Republican politicians are angry about the EV tax credit scheme. But while EV tax credits on the consumer side feel relatively new, that’s not the case with the industry writ large. Think about federal and state tax incentives to build car factories. Or how uniquely protectionist tax rules allowed huge (and profitable) American trucks to dominate the market. Or subsidies to the fossil fuel industry. Or even Reagan-era limits on exports from Japan, which just led them to build cars here. Or the bailouts amid the Great Recession.
I could go on and on, but generally speaking, a competitive auto industry is so essential to a country’s economy that its government will go to great lengths to see it succeed. America’s no different, and neither are tax incentives that get people to buy EVs.
Jobs, jobs, jobs. The goal of many investments from Biden’s Inflation Reduction Act is to build an electric car and battery manufacturing infrastructure here in America, so we’re not wholly dependent on China for it. And guess what? Nearly all of the battery plants being built to support this effort are in Southern red states. Georgia, Kentucky, South, and North Carolina and Tennessee are just some of the states that stand to gain tens of thousands of manufacturing jobs. They’re going there for proximity reasons, to support their nearby automakers like Toyota, BMW, Volvo, Nissan and more, but also because those aren’t exactly union-friendly places — an issue the United Auto Workers is not happy about. Seems like all of this would benefit a conservative politician from any of those places, no?
People are not being “forced” into anything. As I’ve written before, the move to a more battery-driven auto industry seems very likely, but it will not be as up-and-to-the-right as many predicted a year ago. It’ll be a rocky, messy, uneven shift that occurs in some countries and even U.S. states ahead of others; that may not be the best thing for our climate but it is reality. In the meantime, no one is being “forced” into this. California and other states may ban the sale of gas cars by the middle of the next decade, but a lot can happen between now and then and all signs point to the market shifting electric by then anyway. Nor have I seen any legislation that would force people to give up their existing cars, which likely would be impossible.
I’m from Texas. You go down there and try telling those people they have to “give up” their F-150s and Silverados. You’d have better luck telling them you’re there to take their guns away; at least they’re used to hearing that. But more and more, as charging grows and U.S.-built batteries drive costs down, hopefully, people will see the benefits of going electric all on their own.
Elon Musk. And here’s probably the ultimate counter-argument to the idea that EVs will wreck your life as much as drag bingo, DEI training at the office, and the other things the TV told you to be very mad about. The modern EV market was catapulted to success by a Texas-based billionaire entrepreneur — the richest man on Earth— who has declared war on the Woke Mind Virus. Say what you want about Musk, and you could say a lot, but Tesla is a genuine American success story. It’s grown from a startup to a global juggernaut with a market cap exceeding that of every other carmaker, all without selling a single gasoline car.
And remember, DeSantis can denounce EVs all he wants, but he still needed Musk and Twitter to announce his candidacy. That’s a pretty inconvenient fact for the anti-EV culture warriors out there.
The truth is, there are valid concerns to be discussed as the auto industry moves away from gasoline; many of them policy-related. Things like the environmental impact of mining, or the labor battle involving EVs that’s playing out in Detroit right now. But that’s not what we’re getting here, with the screeds over electric wokeness — and they just don’t hold up to even a moment of critical thinking.
Naturally, I don’t think the right-wing war on electric cars is going anywhere anytime soon. But ultimately, it may just not matter. The industry’s going to go where it’s going to go in order to compete globally, and all the memes in the world won’t be able to stand in the way of that.
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The president has paid $4 billion to kill projects that were already dying or dead.
At a certain level, it defies belief: The Trump administration is spending nearly $4 billion … for nothing.
It’s paid something for nothing at least five times now. Last week, the administration reached a $1.2 billion deal with the German energy company RWE to not build three wind farms, including a large installation off the coast of New Jersey. The Chicago-based developer Invenergy signed a separate deal in June. It’s not clear these deals are legal, yet they keep happening.
These agreements mark the formal end of the first American offshore wind boom, which began in the late 2010s and stepped up during the Biden administration. This buildout, alas, never quite found its sea legs. As recently as February 2022, you could squint at the horizon and imagine that 14 gigawatts of turbines might soon spin along the East Coast. Now, we’ll be lucky to get more than six gigawatts by the end of the decade.
That’s a lot of lost generation capacity — and as I’ve repeatedly written, its absence is going to be a problem for the northeastern United States. The Mid-Atlantic and New England, which were set to receive some of the largest offshore facilities, will still need a lot more new electricity in the years to come, especially during winters. (New York City, for instance, now avoids blackouts by relying on two aging barge-mounted power plants parked in the East River.) And while many of the developers who received President Trump’s payouts pointed to fossil fuel investments in their press releases — as if to imply that those other projects were “replacing” the lost wind farms — relatively few of the power plants mentioned will be built in the Northeast.
Yet there’s another weird aspect of these offshore deals that I haven’t focused on as much: Why are they happening in the first place? That’s the subject of a helpful new article published today by James Sallee, an economics professor at UC Berkeley. He observes that many of the offshore wind projects that the Trump administration has now paid to “cancel” were struggling financially long before January 20, 2025. Few of the farms, if any, would have been built under any administration. So why, exactly, is Trump paying off their developers?
Let’s roll the tape. More than four years ago, the Biden administration held the country’s largest offshore auction ever for a set of promising offshore-wind sites along the Atlantic coast. That brought in more than $4 billion; as part of it, a German company named RWE placed a record-shattering bid for a particularly promising area off New Jersey’s coast. The date? February 25, 2022.
As it turned out, that auction was not the most important thing that happened that week in global energy markets — or world history. A day earlier, Russian troops began their full-scale invasion of Ukraine, igniting a geopolitical firestorm that ultimately ushered in an era of tighter energy supplies, rampant inflation, and higher interest rates. Although the offshore developers could not have known it then, those three trends would reshape the economics of their projects. That’s because offshore wind farms — far more than solar, battery, or gas plants — require titanic upfront investment, as Sallee writes:
Offshore wind is extremely capital intensive: enormous costs come up front, while revenue arrives over decades. Inflation raised the cost of steel, turbines, vessels, and labor. Higher interest rates reduced the present value of future revenue and raised financing costs. Where developers signed fixed-price contracts, developers were left holding the capital cost risk when conditions changed.
Unit economics started to deteriorate, and costs ballooned. Projects started to fail as early as October 2023, when Orsted canceled its Ocean Wind 1 and 2 projects slated for the New Jersey coast. I remember talking to an energy expert at the time who mused that for the same per-megawatt cost as an offshore wind farm, the state might as well just build a new Westinghouse nuclear reactor. (Its governor Mikie Sherrill is now exploring doing just that.)
By the time President Trump took office, in other words, many offshore wind projects were already on financial life support, if not deceased. Given the real underlying shift in project economics, that should have decreased the value of developers’ offshore leases — which are, as Sallee writes, more of an option than a permit, because they give a developer the right to study an area but do not authorize construction per se.
Yet over the past year, the Trump administration has reimbursed five developers largely in full, and it hasn’t gotten much in return. Perhaps that’s what the administration needed to do in order to fully kill these projects without risk of future legal sanction. Yet it is … strange. “The deals relate to development rights that look uneconomic today, even before the buyouts,” Sallee says. “The buyouts may limit how quickly offshore wind could rebound in a future economic and policy environment, but as of today it seems as though the government just spent $3.9 billion of taxpayer dollars spent to shoot a corpse.”
I wonder if that description undersells it. In a certain light, the government isn’t really shooting the corpse so much as handing it big wads of cash. Since the first of these deals were announced, I’ve struggled with what to call them — buyouts? payouts? — but Sallee’s post (which you should go read in full) made me wonder if bailout is the best option. After all, imagine if a hypothetical President Kamala Harris had reimbursed this same set of companies for the full value of their failed offshore wind bets — and used the Justice Department’s permanent and technically unlimited Judgement Fund to do it. What would journalists say then? How would Republicans respond?
Or to make the analogy truly work, I suppose, imagine that a President Harris had bailed out oil companies for some overly exuberant bet made during an earlier Republican administration, then claimed (with dubious evidence) that they would use the refunds to build renewables. That would still be an enormous waste of public money, but it would scramble the politics somewhat, perhaps evoking astonished embarrassment from her allies and delighted confusion from her opponents. Which might — to return to our world — mirror some of the response we’re seeing to Trump’s wind payouts.
As electricity prices rise, the stakes for the leaders of states like Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Indiana are only getting higher.
Governors are increasingly throwing their weight around in the technocratic and often obscure utility ratemaking process. The latest example is Virginia Governor Abigail Spanberger, who last week published a Washington Post op-ed announcing that she would intervene in the attempted acquisition of the state’s dominant utility, Dominion, by Florida utility and energy development company NextEra Energy.
Spanberger is “deeply skeptical about whether selling our primary state-regulated utility to an out-of-state company is good for the commonwealth,” she wrote. While she didn’t go so far as to oppose the merger, she did insist that NextEra maintain jobs in the state, comply with Virginia’s clean energy goals, and come up with cost savings for Virginians. And while the state’s utility regulators will make the ultimate decision themselves, she said, she wanted to use her leverage as the state’s highest ranking and most visible elected official “to make sure Virginians have a voice in the process.”
It’s not unheard of for a governor to try to influence utility regulators by picking members of state utility commissions — or simply by haranguing them. But as electricity bills rise to their highest level ever, according to Heatmap and MIT’s Electricity Price Hub, governors in particular have started responding to pressure from voters to do something — anything — about it.
In New Jersey, Governor Mikie Sherrill won office in part by promising to freeze electricity rates — then used her influence over the utility regulators to make it happen.
In Indiana, Governor Mike Braun replaced the head of the state utility regulator after his predecessor agreed to a rate increase from the utility AES Indiana.
In North Carolina, Governor Josh Stein publicly called on the state’s dominant utility, Duke Energy, to reduce a rate increase request.
And the whole PJM Interconnection market, which includes Indiana, Virginia, and New Jersey, exists under a capacity price cap worked out in litigation initiated by Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro, who has also led an effort alongside the White House to procure more generation and pressured the utility PECO to withdraw a rate case.
“Governor Shapiro is maybe the pioneer of this,” Eric Miller, the interim vice president of the states program at Evergreen Action and a former climate and energy official under former New Jersey Governor Phil Murphy, told me. “Legislators, they hear from their constituents about utility issues, whether it’s shut-offs or high prices. They go to their elected officials, and those elected officials engage with the governor’s office,” he said.
Utility regulation and ratemaking exists in a netherworld between public policy and private business. Most customers in the U.S. are served by investor-owned electric utilities, but the prices they pay are set by boards whose members are typically appointed by governors after a long, quasi-judicial process.
The process by which rates are set is wonky by design, with thousands of pages of filings and analysis explaining what costs need to be recovered at what rate paid by ratepayers. “Intervening” in a public service commission decision typically involves quietly slipping a document into a large docket, to be seen solely by utility regulators and lawyers (plus a few enterprising reporters.) To the extent the public or elected officials get to weigh in, it’s often through non-governmental advocacy groups or state officials designated as advocates for the public.
That governors are now openly taking responsibility for such a painfully bureaucratic process is “an indication of just how central utility rates are to overall energy affordability concerns that governors are hearing,” Jeff Dennis, executive director of the Electricity Customer Alliance and a former Department of Energy and Federal Energy Regulatory Commission official, told me.
With prices as high as they are, “the stakes are higher, and so the governors feel like in order to fulfill their campaign promises or their job as the top elected official in the state, that they’ve got to be directly heard,” he said. In Virginia, for example, typical bills have grown over 45% in the past five years, and by almost 12% in the past year alone.
When it comes to assigning responsibility for high electricity prices, Americans are most likely to blame their state government and their utility (and, increasingly, data centers), according to Heatmap polling.
Governors, who have a direct mandate from the public, can exert a unique countervailing force in a process that many critics argue is weighted towards utility interests. “Despite a lot of fences to prevent regulatory capture and rent seeking, it happens,” Miller said, “and having an executive weigh in directly can shake that up.”
There are risks, however, to governors getting more directly involved in the ratemaking process. One is that it could encourage short-term thinking, leading to measures that hold down prices at the expense of potentially necessary investments to maintain reliability or building out the infrastructure necessary to bring on new sources of power like wind and solar.
On top of that, “There’s certainly always a risk that the proceedings get more political,” Dennis told me. But he noted that ultimately, it’s utility commissions making the decisions, and they’re obligated to provide a record of filings and data to support their decisions.
Governors getting involved more formally could also have upsides, Dennis said, by shining a spotlight on the process that ultimately affects every resident and business in the state. “It brings a lot more spotlight to how utilities are making decisions about investments and how customers are impacted by those decisions, and I don’t think that that’s necessarily a bad thing.”
Governors also have a different set of mandates and responsibilities than the utilities do. While utilities have a mandate to provide reliable electric service — and thus spend whatever they can convince their regulators is necessary to do so — Miller argued that governors have to balance reliability and affordability for their constituents.
“The regulatory monopoly that utilities have is a political creation made by the elected officials in that jurisdiction.” Miller told me. “It is well within the authority of those same elected officials to decide to take a very hard look at whether that model is delivering the type of outcome that they want.”
A proposed change in how the agency implements an obscure Cold War-era law would impose onerous reporting requirements on renewables and pipelines.
Democrats in Congress claim that a new Trump administration proposal will have a chilling effect on the energy sector by subjecting renewables and fossil fuel pipelines alike to an obscure, rarely cited Cold War-era law requiring detailed information on foreign farmland ownership be submitted to the Agriculture Department.
In late June, the Agriculture Department released a proposal to change implementation of the Agricultural Foreign Investment Disclosure Act of 1978, which requires companies to provide information to the federal government on foreign investors in farmland holdings, acquisitions, and sales. If finalized, the new rule would expand the definition of “agricultural land” in regulation to include all renewable energy facilities and pipeline corridors by explicitly tying the term to those industries’ formal codes under the North American Industry Classification System.
Top Senate Democrats on Monday argued that taken together with expanded investor reporting thresholds and land boundary mapping requirements, this rule change “may exceed what is necessary” to deal with national security issues around farmland ownership.
One of the letter’s signatories, Pennsylvania’s John Fetterman, has previously joined the GOP in railing against foreign companies purchasing U.S. farmland as a potential national security concern. And indeed, there certainly exists a broader bipartisan anxiety around Chinese influence on essential industries, e.g. mining and critical minerals. That Fetterman is now joining climate hawks Martin Heinrich and Sheldon Whitehouse in opposing the administration’s move is a striking moment of unity, especially as Fetterman bats away beltway rumors that he’ll flip parties.
The letter demands a briefing from the Agriculture Department that includes the proposal’s “anticipated impacts on the energy, infrastructure, and agricultural sectors,” as well as the legal basis for changing its definition of “agricultural land.”
“[W]e are concerned that USDA’s proposed rule may exceed what is necessary to address those objectives, have unintended national security consequences, and may create substantial compliance burdens on agricultural producers, landowners, infrastructure operators, energy developers, and investors that could undermine efforts to address rising energy and food prices without a corresponding national security benefit,” the letter reads.
As I have previously written, the USDA is an increasingly vital organ in the Trump administration’s war on renewable energy projects, and focusing its laser beam at project development on what it calls “prime” farmland. Trump also recently tapped country music star John Rich to be his “special envoy for American landowners,” which directly led to the USDA working with people fighting solar on farmland in upstate New York.
The Trump change goes after pipelines as well as renewable energy, although logic suggests that solar development could be more vulnerable due to the sheer acreage often required for utility-scale project construction and property setbacks.
The Agriculture Department responded to my request for comment with a statement: “As Secretary [Brooke] Rollins has noted before, the regulations governing the Agricultural Foreign Investment Disclosure Act of 1978 are extremely outdated and need to be updated to better reflect today’s conditions. USDA looks forward to considering all public comments before finalizing the rule.”
Editor’s note: This story has been updated to include the statement from USDA.