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One of Volkswagen’s most iconic cars has a post-gasoline future.

Porsche salespeople, college girls, horsepower-obsessed tuners, lawyers, journalists, avowed street racers, moms and dads, and wealthy businesspeople — all are folks I’ve met in my travels who have owned Volkswagen Golf GTIs. It’s rare to see such a radically diverse group of car owners. But the GTI has spent nearly 50 years delivering driving joy in a surprisingly affordable and practical package, so its appeal has stretched far and wide.
Now, this automotive icon will have a future beyond gasoline as well, and that’s worth getting excited about.
This weekend at the IAA Mobility Show in Munich, Volkswagen debuted the ID.GTI Concept: essentially a preview of an all-electric GTI to come soon. While “concept cars” in the automotive world can often represent wild ideas or meager previews of far-flung things car companies might want to do, VW has confirmed the ID.GTI will go into production in a few years. And like the gasoline-powered GTI’s relationship to the Golf, the electric ID.GTI is essentially a faster, better-handling, better-equipped version of the Volkswagen ID.2all unveiled a few months ago. For fans of exciting cars that don’t command six-figure price tags, it’s hard to overstate what a big deal an electric GTI would be.

It’s also hard to overstate the importance of the GTI to the automotive landscape. If you want something fun to drive, but need some actual trunk space or have to get the kids to school on time, the so-called “hot hatchback” — essentially a practical, roomy economy car given a more powerful engine and other enhancements — is a great way to go. And the GTI is the O.G. of the hot hatch world, the car that started it all. Launched in 1976 as a powered-up version of the humble Golf, the GTI was an immediate hit that helped VW move past the ancient Beetle and Microbus and into a modern, safer and more efficient era of driving.
Even as the GTI launched the hot hatch segment and inspired a raft of competitors from nearly every car company, over the decades it has consistently racked up awards from motoring journalists, built up a huge community of loyal fans, and became a car-modifying scene unto itself. At almost any given car show, you’ll see a GTI (or even just a Golf) that’s been painted wild colors, covered in stickers, lowered, fitted with outrageous wheels, received an unhinged engine transplant, or all of the above; people do crazy stuff to these cars.
Or they just drive them to the office and have a spirited drive on the weekends. That’s the magic of the GTI; it’s an “all of the above” option in ways that cars like the Mazda Miata and Chevrolet Camaro can’t match.
All the while, the GTI has kept its relatively humble price tag — the current one starts at a very reasonable $30,530 — and its focus on fuel economy. It’s always offered thrills with a high-tech four-cylinder engine (and briefly, an unusually small V6 option), eschewing the huge gas-guzzling motors typical of other performance cars.
But times are changing. Good fuel economy doesn’t cut it anymore. Emissions rules are getting tougher globally as the end of internal combustion can be seen on the horizon. Partially in penance for its diesel-cheating sins, VW is going all-electric in the coming years. Plus, attitudes are changing, too; this year, the Austrian town that for decades hosted a massive GTI meetup (think a giant music festival, but for modified Volkswagens) canceled the event out of environmental concerns. VW had to save the day by moving it to its headquarters in Wolfsburg.
The ID.GTI might be a far more welcome sight instead. Though no specifics around power (or range) have been released yet, as an electric car the ID.GTI will almost certainly be the quickest GTI ever. VW says it can even electronically emulate the driving feel and noises of the vintage ones. In other words, if you owned a GTI in the ‘80s or 2000s, this one can sound just like it. The concept keeps a number of must-haves from past GTIs, too, like the tartan plaid seats, red trim on the grille and the “Golf ball” gear shifter — here, that’s a control module that lets you adjust how the car drives.
The ID.GTI likely won’t go on sale until 2027, Car and Driver predicts. But Americans may have reasons to mark their calendars whenever we get an official date. Earlier this year, Volkswagen gave a hard “no” when asked if the ID.2all would ever come to our shores. You can thank the U.S. car market being overwhelmingly dominated by large trucks and SUVs for that.
But will the ID.GTI come to America? “The answer is … we’re looking into it,” a VW spokesperson told me. That fits with past precedent. The base Golf was discontinued for America a few years ago, but the GTI (and its more powerful, more expensive big brother the Golf R) remains on sale here. That’s because there’s still a market for VW’s fun hot hatches here; I’d wager the GTI has eclipsed the Golf itself in America in terms of popularity and prominence.
I believe there’s absolutely a market for a fun, affordable electric hot hatch in America too, especially if VW can find ways to get battery and production costs down over the next few years. Look at the great sales year the Tesla Model 3 is having; same with the soon-to-be-discontinued (and then revived) Chevrolet Bolt, or the considerable hype around the ultra-compact Volvo EX30. Americans would drive cheap EVs if we had the chance, and if we want to lower emissions across the board, we can’t count on $60,000 SUVs to do it. There is no reason to believe that an electric GTI couldn’t be a hit just like the original one was, even if its Golf sibling doesn’t make it here.
But for me, there’s an even deeper appeal to the ID.GTI. I try to draw a line between car culture — traffic-clogged cities, long commutes, no public transit, the prioritization of driving over biking and walking — and car enthusiast culture. The latter is something that, while far from perfect, is a force that drives diverse communities, creates lasting bonds and is filled with people eager to help each other out. I don’t want to see car enthusiast culture die with gasoline; rather, I’d like to see gearheads lead the charge for a cleaner, better, smarter future.
And if the Volkswagen GTI — the ride of choice for everyday people who want occasional backroad fun and the “Yes, this should have 1,000 horsepower and sit just three inches off the ground” crowd alike — can help make that happen, it deserves an electric future.
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On Greenland’s rare earths, Baker Hughes’ geothermal bet, China’s green H2
Current conditions: A sprawling heat dome stretching from the Midwest to the East Coast is raising temperatures for more than 200 million Americans upward of 100 degrees Fahrenheit this week • Three firefighters died battling wildfires along the Colorado-Utah border on Saturday, while winds fanned the flames of the Cottonwood Fire in southwest Utah into the largest blaze in the U.S. right now • Back-to-back tropical storms Mekkhala and Higos battered Japan’s coast over the weekend, leaving at least one dead in a landslide.
For much of the past decade, Japan looked primed for offshore wind development for the same reasons the American industry first took root in the Northeast: It’s coastal, densely populated, and — with its nuclear power stations either shut down or idled — it’s more reliant on fossil fuels that it doesn’t locally produce than ever before. But building turbines off Japan’s shores has proven tricky as project costs ballooned. On Friday, Norway’s Equinor announced its decision to close its offshore wind division in Japan, after failing to win any leases at repeated auctions over the past eight years. “This decision reflects a reassessment of Equinor’s strategic direction, with a strengthened focus on integrated power markets,” the company said in a statement on its Japanese website.
The move comes two years after Denmark’s Orsted exited Japan. Last August, a consortium led by the industrial giant Mitsubishi pulled out of Japan’s first three offshore wind projects citing what Reuters described as concerns of surging costs. Last October, as I told you at the time, the newly elected government of Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi postponed a key procedural step for setting government funding levels for offshore wind projects. Instead, as you may recall, Takaichi has put a heavy focus on restarting the nuclear reactors mothballed after the 2011 Fukushima disaster and even expanding the fleet.

For much of the 20th century, the geopolitical relevance of the world’s largest island stemmed from its central location as a kind of poker table situated right where Washington, Brussels, and Moscow meet. More recently, it’s been about Greenland’s untapped mineral riches. As polar ice recedes, the autonomous Danish territory has opened previously inaccessible deposits of rare earths and copper to prospecting. For Greenland, whose population of fewer than 60,000 is roughly 85% Indigenous, mining has offered an opportunity to diversify its economy beyond just fishing, augmenting an expanding tourism sector with some heavy industry. In 2017, when I visited local political officials in Nuuk, the capital, sustainability-minded liberals pined for an alternative development approach that took advantage of Greenland’s unique and pristine wilderness to, for example, build out a biomedical industry that draws upon research into the survival traits that allow life to thrive in harsh polar environments. At the time, the populists pitching industrialism as a fast track to independence seemed, to me at least, destined to win the argument. But the green techno-optimists may yet get the chance to prove their approach.
Last week, regulators in Nuuk formally rejected an Australian mining company’s bid to renew its exploration license for one of the most advanced rare earths projects in Greenland. The Western Australia-based Energy Transition Minerals had been locked in litigation with the Greenlandic government over whether its project could safely extract rare earths such as neodymium, praseodymium, and terbium for magnets and batteries without producing uranium as a byproduct. A previous government in Greenland had banned uranium mining in 2021, effectively halting ETM’s Kvanefjeld project. But the company had told investors in February that it “remains confident in the merits” of its position in negotiations with Greenland and “resolute in our intention to develop Kvanefjeld responsibly and in accordance with international best practice.” Just last week, the company published data showing that it had identified 10 new rare earth deposits “with uranium levels recorded below regulatory thresholds.” If it factored into negotiations at all, it wasn’t enough to change the outcome. Following the rejection on Friday, the company told Reuters: “Greenland has positioned itself as open for business. This decision creates a different impression.” In a sign of how the political winds may be shifting, the headline on Sunday’s front-page story in Sermitsiaq, one of Greenland’s only national newspapers, warned of the “environmental bombs” coming just from future American military bases on the island.
Of all the ways to build up, shore up, and clean up America’s grid, geothermal energy is easily among the most elegant, narratively speaking. We already quietly operate the world’s largest geothermal power plant. The new generation of companies racing to build new power stations require the very same battle-hardened drilling equipment, technologies, and workers that sustained the fracking boom and turned the U.S. into a top global producer of oil and gas. Many of the best-mapped hot rocks are located out west, where the federal government owns vast tracts of land, meaning the strong bipartisan consensus in support of geothermal energy development can, in fact, translate into faster approvals for projects. It’s a bet that one of the nation’s largest oilfield services providers is now making. Last week, Baker Hughes inked a deal with the geothermal developer Mantle Reach Power to support construction of as much as 500 megawatts of new generating capacity. As part of the deal, Baker Hughes will provide its drilling technologies, in a move the company said would “de-risk and deliver” on the promises of geothermal power. “Geothermal is a clean power solution that is proving to be a vital contributor to advancing sustainable energy development, with incredible potential to enhance U.S. energy security, support digital infrastructure, and ensure energy remains accessible and affordable,” Baker Hughes CEO Lorenzo Simonelli said in a statement.
Meanwhile, federal regulators just approved the environmental review of a new conventional geothermal project. Once complete, Ormat Technologies’ Pearl geothermal project in Nevada’s Esmeralda County will generate up to 60 megawatts of power. It’s just the latest approval of what Think Geo Energy called a series of approvals for Ormat’s proposed expansion in Nevada.
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Even before the Iran War, momentum was gathering in China for a green hydrogen buildout. The “most important low-carbon policy for 2025,” according to the analyst Jian Wu, was China’s decision to start subsidizing green hydrogen-related applications from central government coffers for the first time as Beijing sought to wean off fossil fuel imports and make use of solar and wind farms that had grown so abundant that the country’s grid operators recently phased out key incentives for renewables. Since the war, Beijing has turned its attention to shoring up its domestic fuel supplies, whether by increasing its domestic drilling, chemically-processing coal, or zapping water with enough renewable electricity to cleanly separate out the hydrogen molecules. Now it’s placing a big bet on the latter. China just put out a new five-year plan for the energy sector with a goal to install more than 2 million metric tons of annual capacity to produce green hydrogen by the end of the decade, Hydrogen Insight reported. That would more than double the existing capacity.
Overall, the document raises the target for China to generate half its electricity from non-fossil sources by 2030. But its goals for the wind and solar sectors represent a significant slowdown from the recent pace of development, indicating the government’s interest in diversifying its carbon-free electricity sector.
At present, I see three guarantees in my life: Death, taxes, and the likelihood that another Chinese nuclear plant will make significant enough progress to merit telling you about it. Readers hoping to understand the stakes of America’s incipient nuclear renaissance are wise to keep track of how successfully China’s state-owned reactor developers have been building their own domestically-sourced version of the flagship U.S. reactor design. I can’t keep track of how many times we have covered Chinese reactor milestones. But add this to the list: Last week, World Nuclear News reported, the second of six Hualong One reactors at the Taipingling nuclear power plant in Guangdong province started up, sustaining a chain reaction for the first time. The speed with which China General Nuclear completed the domestically-supplied reactor — the design for which is largely cribbed from the Westinghouse AP1000 — highlights the strategy American atomic energy advocates are increasingly promoting. A nonprofit called the Nuclear Scaling Initiative launched in 2024 to propound the idea of focusing on reactors that can be built identically over and over.
Investors debate the right way to bet on the nuclear revival, and the growing list of startups debuting on the stock market through reverse merger deals that require less scrutiny than traditional initial public offerings provides ample grist for disagreement. But here’s a surefire wrong way: Selling $1.5 million of call option contracts for your employer’s stock on the day of a major announcement that you are playing a pivotal role in overseeing. Yet that’s exactly what the Department of Justice accuses Casey Muggleston, a former engineering manager in charge of relicensing the shuttered Three Mile Island power plant, of doing on the very day his employer, Constellation, announced a landmark deal with Microsoft to reopen the facility to supply its data centers with electricity. If convicted, Muggleston could face a maximum of 25 years in prison, according to ABC27, a TV news station in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.
There is a heat wave in Europe, the world’s fastest warming continent. And so, as you may have heard, a perennial topic of online climate discourse has returned: Why don’t more Europeans have air conditioning?
I’m partially convinced this is psy op, or at least a figment of how social media organizes attention. I have a hypothesis that various “For You” page algorithms, especially that of the social network X, began to reward content that performed unusually well across national borders a few years ago. Since then, the amount of America vs. Europe content has surged. (Of course, writers have been comparing American and European lifestyles for much longer than that.)
Suffice it to say, though: It’s a fraught topic. I’ve assumed that as extreme heat gets worse as the climate changes, Europeans will simply get on with it and install AC, much as Americans in the Pacific Northwest have done. Yet there are cultural and regulatory obstacles to AC’s growth in Europe.
I’m sure I’ll write about it in the future, but for now I want to get a grip on the facts themselves. And so as a Friday special, I present to you — the facts about European AC, as I understand it:
Thanks so much for reading, and talk soon.
The movement against data centers is raising up a raison d'etre of the anti-renewables movement: protecting would-be farmland.
Farm owners and operators across the U.S. are winning national headlines almost every week for rejecting big dollar offers from data center developers. In Hanover County, Virginia, protestors are chanting “Grow Tomatoes, Not Data Centers.” In Pennsylvania and elsewhere, Republican legislators are mulling proposals to block the sale of so-called “prime farmland” for data center development. In Texas, the fight over data center development has engulfed the race for the state’s ag commissioner seat. In the Midwest, where agriculture reigns supreme, statewide races and congressional campaigns are slowly but surely being defined by the issue. Like in Nebraska where Austin Ahlman, an independent candidate running for Congress in Nebraska’s first district, told me he believes the data center backlash is reflective of a populist politics that broadly criticize elites and top-down control of the economy: “I think sometimes people misunderstand the anxieties of rural Americans when it comes to these data centers because a lot of their fears are about control long term.”
Unlike the farmland backlash around renewable energy development, the loudest critics are on the anti-monopolist left. On Wednesday, the prominent opposition group Food and Water Watch signaled farmland could soon be a watchword in the national data center debate – in a fashion analogous to what we’ve seen with renewable energy. The organization’s blog post entitled “The AI Data Center Boom Is Coming for Farmers” declared data centers verboten because of the threat they posed to “small and midsized family farmers.” Mitch Jones, deputy director of the campaign outfit, said he believes the threat to farmland is “a compelling reason to oppose data center development” but that his organization’s fight is primarily focused on protecting small business owners and an anti-monopoly sentiment.
“If data centers are coming into their areas, this puts even more pressure on them. It drives up the cost of their electricity, just as it does anyone else. It competes with them for water for crops, and it affects the value of their land in a perverse way,” Jones told me.
None of this should be surprising. An agricultural workforce has always been a good barometer for figuring out if a community will accept new infrastructure of any kind. We’ve seen as much time and time again with renewable energy, carbon capture, fossil energy and mining, just to name a few industries.
This same rule is true with data centers. In April, county commissioners in Kosciusko County, Indiana, unanimously rejected a Prologis data center; nearly 90% of acreage in Kosciusko County is being actively farmed, according to the Heatmap Pro database. Linn County, Iowa, in February enacted a rule severely restricting data center development in unincorporated areas; almost three-fourths of the land is used by the ag sector. A potential Amazon facility is causing heartburn in Clinton County, Ohio; nearly all land in the county is used for farming and utility-scale solar development has a recent history of conflict with landowners.
To be candid, I’m struck by the similarity in the backlash over siting data centers on farmland – a resemblance so close that some counties are starting to restrict renewable energy and data center development on farmland at the same time. This week, Eau Claire County, Wisconsin created a new “farmland preservation plan” discouraging utility-scale solar energy and data centers on any potential farmland. (More than 40% of land in this county is currently being used for farmland, according to Heatmap Pro.)
Jones at Food and Water Watch said his organization taking on the “protect farmland” mantle had nothing to do with the success this argument has had against renewable energy. “That thought never entered my head,” he told me, adding that if communities respond to the data center backlash by taking steps that short-circuit solar and wind too, that’s “a coincidence.”
I kept pressing. What if the pivot to farmland protection leads to more communities restricting renewable energy along with the data centers? “If you’re looking for a reason to oppose solar and wind, you can come up with that without having to attach data centers to it,” Jones said. “We’ve seen rural communities oppose solar and wind before data centers blew up across the country. It’s nothing new.”