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A zhuzhed-up explanation of the international plastics treaty negotiations you definitely didn't pay attention to this week.
Let’s just admit it: The INC-2 has a pizzazz problem. For one thing, if you’re not in the know, its name could easily be mistaken for the model number of
a large kitchen appliance. Even if you are in the know, it’s difficult to get excited about what is “the second of five U.N. Intergovernmental Negotiating Committee for Plastics meetings” — even if this one did take place in Paris.
But what the INC-2 lacks in, shall we say, broad public interest appeal, it makes up for in importance, compelling characters, and drama. Yes, I said it: drama!
Here’s everything you need to know about this week’s INC-2 negotiations, which concluded on Friday and have the ultimate aim of creating a first-of-its-kind legally binding global plastics treaty.
This week, over 2,000 participants from 175 countries flocked to the UNESCO headquarters in Paris to debate, lobby, demonstrate, observe, sing, make art, and generally get very little sleep. For many attendees, it was a reunion of sorts: The first Intergovernmental Negotiating Committee meeting (INC-1) was held six months ago in Uruguay; the next, INC-3, will take place in Kenya in November.
Why such a frenetic, globe-trotting schedule? Because the delegates only have until the end of 2024 — technically, just 15 more total negotiating days — to hammer out the specifics of the first international plastic pollution treaty, as directed by the U.N. Environment Assembly last year. If they’re successful, the treaty will be the most important international environmental agreement since the Paris Climate Agreement was signed in 2015.
It’s a complicated subject. Campaigns against things like plastic straws and takeout bags have come to be seen by some U.S. activists as distractions, while others have defended plastics’ enormous lifesaving upsides and the fact that a like-for-like replacement of everyday plastics with paper bags could, counterintuitively, skyrocket global emissions (fun fact: the single-use plastic bag was invented as an environmentally friendly alternative to cutting down trees).
But the INC delegates aren’t trying to get rid of plastics altogether, just reduce their use. The U.N. cites data that shows over a third of all plastics are used for “gratuitous” purposes like packaging, including food and beverage containers, which overwhelmingly end up in landfills. Cutting down on wasteful packaging while promoting recyclable and reusable goods could slash 80% of plastic pollution by 2040.
Unfortunately, the world’s plastic problem is only getting worse. Emissions from the making of plastics alone are expected to outpace coal emissions within the decade. By 2040, U.N. projections show conventional plastics, which are made using newly extracted fossil fuels and thus a major part of oil companies’ plans for surviving the energy transition, taking up a whopping 19% of the global carbon budget. And by 2060, the 139 million metric tons of plastic we produce every year could triple unless the world makes changes.
Anti-plastic activists, scientists, and a 55-country bloc of negotiators led by Rwanda and Norway that calls itself the “High Ambition Coalition to End Plastic Pollution” are pushing for caps on plastic production. Their argument is that cutting off plastics at the source is the only way to turn off the proverbial “tap” of pollution created during the “full lifecycle” of a plastic item, from the extraction of oil to make it, the energy required to shape it, and its eventual disposal in a landfill or recycling plant. Others are pushing to regulate what chemicals can be used to make plastics. And though it seems far less realistically achievable, a ban on single-use plastics has also been floated, including by the 14-nation Pacific Small Island Developing States (PSIDS) group.
\u201chttps://t.co/6SoYwpMWj7\u201d— Cate Bonacini (@Cate Bonacini) 1685601469
\u201chttps://t.co/a2NwIRMFpm\u201d— Cate Bonacini (@Cate Bonacini) 1685601469
The plastic treaty negotiations are breaking into three distinct camps, which I’ll call the “One Big Pledge” group, the “Bespoke Pledges” group, and “Saudi Arabia,” because it’s just Saudi Arabia.
The One Big Pledge group — primarily made up of the members of the 55-country High Ambition Coalition to End Plastic Pollution — wants an international, legally binding treaty that will “end plastic pollution by 2040” — however that target may be ultimately defined — by capping new plastic production at a “sustainable level,” likely by targeting single-use plastics; limiting the chemicals that can be used in the creation of plastics in order to reduce health hazards and encourage recyclability; and establish provisions for plastics at the end of their life to maximize reuse rather than leakage into the environment.
In a bit of pre-meeting drama, Japan ditched America to join the High Ambition Coalition, leaving the U.S. as “the only major developed country” that isn’t part of the group. High Ambition Coalition members also include Canada, Australia, the United Kingdom, the European Union, and Mexico.
The “Bespoke Pledges” group wants to take what The Washington Post calls a “less stringent” approach by letting countries “come up with their own pledges” — kind of like a children’s arts-and-craft project fair where everyone gets to make their own popsicle stick man, except instead of a popsicle stick man it’s a commitment to ending pollution and there are no penalties if yours sucks.
Some Democrats and assorted celebrities have protested that this approach is kind of lame, but the Biden administration is nevertheless pitching it as being more like the Paris Climate Agreement (which, of course, was notorious among activists for this very aspect of its structure). The U.S. is also insisting that it is being “just as ambitious” as the High Ambition Coalition even as others have deemed its position rather “underwhelming.” Hey, at least the American Chemistry Council likes it?
Meanwhile, Saudi Arabia thinks the American plan of “come up with your own pledge and don’t worry about an enforcement mechanism” sounds basically great, but it could go for an even more hands-off treaty, too. Its proposal lists just two suggested “obligations” for signatories: “designing [plastics] for circularity” when possible and agreeing to share recycling tips with other countries.
For delegates, activists, and industry interests departing Paris this weekend, there was a distinct air of anxiety about how much work still lies ahead. Part of the issue was that negotiations in Paris got off to a slow — the rumor in the refillable water bottle fountain line is that it was an intentionally slow — start.
The biggest reason for the delay was an extended debate over the draft rules of procedure. First there was a kerfuffle about how voting blocs like the EU can cast votes on behalf of their member states. But that discussion gave some oil-producing countries like Brazil, Saudi Arabia, and Iran an opening to try to revise the rules in a much bigger way: requiring decisions to ultimately have a consensus rather than be put to a vote.
\u201cNo multilateral environmental treaty has ever been negotiated without the option of voting. \n\nBrackets in #INC2 #PlasticsTreaty rule 38 would be a disaster for the planet and the future of environmental governance. \n\nhttps://t.co/HXOvgVjZWr\u201d— Magnus L\u00f8vold (@Magnus L\u00f8vold) 1685436365
The distinction between “voting” and “consensus,” while procedurally in the weeds, is actually a significant one. As the rule is written now, if consensus is not achieved, decisions then go to a vote, which must pass with two-thirds support. Countries that supported the change included Brazil, China, Saudi Arabia, India, Iran, Russia, and Venezuela; countries that backed voting as a final option included the U.S., EU, U.K., Canada, Norway, and Senegal, whose delegate explained the issue succinctly and to applause: “Consensus is what kills democracy,” he was reported as saying. “If one or two countries don’t agree, we’re stuck.” Without the option to vote, it’s likely any meaningful plastics treaty will be DOA.
Meanwhile, Mexico’s delegate, Camila Zepeda, was losing her patience at this point: “It’s a waste of time and energy ... We’ve heard arguments at length [that] don’t focus on the essential issue, plastic pollution,” she reportedly said. “Everyone, turn off your microphones, stop your speeches.”
\u201c#PlasticsTreaty: And just like that, another full day was spent disagreeing on rules of procedures in Paris. And still no discussion on plastics pollution \ud83e\udee0\u201d— Laura Mercier (@Laura Mercier) 1685466850
But if it was the intent of major oil-producing states to delay negotiations, it worked. After agreeing to disagree about the rule on Wednesday — essentially kicking the can down the road to INC-3 — states like Saudi Arabia, Russia, and Iran continued to raise questions that seemed designed to run out the clock (the Iranian delegate’s concern about observing a reasonable bedtime, at least, was relatable). Mexico’s delegate finally snapped, waving her name placard above her head, scolding her colleagues that it was time to “roll up your sleeves and get to work,” and then grabbed her backpack and walked out of the room:
\u201cAs Saudi Arabia and Russia kept asking for the microphone, Mexico\u2019s delegate waved her name plate, said we have to go to these groups, put her rucksack on and walked out to applause and chants of \u201cMexico\u201d from some observers. Got her way. Session over. #INC2\u201d— Joe Lo (@Joe Lo) 1685479936
Attention then turned to what will likely be a crux of negotiations: the role of recycling and “circularity” in the eventual treaty. Anti-plastic activists are gunning hard for the first of the three classic R’s: to reduce the amount of plastic that gets made, period. Oil and chemical interests, though, wanted to focus on the third R: recycling.
There’s a reason even countries like Saudi Arabia (and the U.S.) are writing “circularity” into their obligations: proposals that push advanced plastic recycling, with the intent of extending the lifespan of plastics, will allow fossil fuel companies and states to keep extracting oil to make new plastics by taking the attention off the plastic caps being mulled by the High Ambition nations. There also isn’t an agreed-upon meaning of the term “circularity,” Inside Climate News points out, meaning countries and companies can use the eco-friendly buzzword without being nailed to a commitment they don’t intend to keep.
Additionally, there are lots of valid concerns about advanced recycling, from the heavy energy and emissions output required to extend the lifespan of plastics to the current technological inability to minimize the dangers of toxic chemicals produced in the process.
Some players have also have stressed that all the attention on recycling alone is too limited. “To focus on plastic waste in this treaty would be a failure because you have to look at plastic production to solve the crisis — including the extraction of fossil fuels and the toxic chemical additives,” Dr. Tadesse Amera, the co-chair of the International Pollutants Elimination Network, told Spain’s El País.
A global agreement on how to handle plastic pollution was still clearly a ways off on Friday as the conference wound down. But by the end of the week, the delegates could celebrate genuine progress toward formulating objectives, obligations, and implementation tactics, and had additionally mandated a zero draft text of the treaty be written by the chair, which will be considered at INC-3. Activists applauded the step, which due to the delays, had not been a given.
There remain major hurdles to clear, however. If there is a single major takeaway from INC-2, it’s that oil-producing countries are becoming worried enough about the treaty’s direction that they’re beginning to drop the cooperative veneer and drag their heels. Even a relatively “underwhelming” plan like United States’ voluntary pledge proposal could potentially be at risk of failing if the consensus group ultimately wins out. “We may have to conjure up some additional days to finalize these talks,” one participant told the Earth Negotiations Bulletin on Wednesday. A hypothetical “INC-6” entered the vocabulary.
In the meantime, the delegates, lobbyists, activists, and observers are on their way back to their respective countries to catch up on sleep, detox from all the chocolate that was consumed, and prepare for INC-3 in Nairobi in November. The clock is ticking but if there is a glimmer of hope for the anti-plastics team, it’s that the oil interests are outnumbered. As Yvette Arellano — the founder and executive director of the Houston-based environmental justice group Fenceline Watch — told me by email from the ground in Paris, “They know once this starts going, it’s only gonna catch more public interest and global momentum.”
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Businesses were already bracing for a crash. Then came another 50% tariff on Chinese goods.
When I wrote Heatmap’s guide to driving less last year, I didn’t anticipate that a good motivation for doing so would be that every car in America was about to get a lot more expensive.
Then again, no one saw the breadth and depth of the Trump administration’s tariffs coming. “We would characterize this slate of tariffs as ‘worse than the worst case scenario,’” one group of veteran securities analysts wrote in a note to investors last week, a sentiment echoed across Wall Street and reflected in four days of stock market turmoil so far.
But if the economic downturn has renewed your interest in purchasing a bike or e-bike, you’ll want to act fast — and it may already be too late. Because Trump’s “Liberation Day” tariffs stack on top of his other tariffs and duties, the U.S. bicycle trade association PeopleForBikes calculated that beginning on April 9, the day the newest tariffs come into effect, the duty on e-bikes from China would be 79%, up from nothing at all under President Biden. The tariff on most non-electric bikes from China, meanwhile, would spike to 90%, up from 11% on January 1 of this year. Then on Tuesday, the White House announced that it would add another 50% tariff on China on top of that whole tariff stack, starting Wednesday, in retaliation for Beijing’s counter-tariffs.
Prior to the latest announcement, Jay Townley, a founding partner of the cycling industry consulting firm Human Powered Solutions, had told me that if the Trump administration actually followed through on a retaliatory 50% tariff on top of those duties, then “we’re out of business because nobody can afford to bring in a bicycle product at 100% or more in tariffs.”
It’s difficult to overstate how existential the tariffs are for the bicycle industry. Imports account for 97% of the bikes purchased in the United States, of which 87% come from China, making it “one of the most import-dependent and China-dependent industries in the U.S.,” according to a 2021 analysis by the Coalition for a Prosperous America, which advocates for trade-protectionist policies.
Many U.S. cycling brands have grumbled for years about America’s relatively generous de minimis exemption, a policy of waiving duties on items valued at less than $800. The loophole — which is what enables shoppers to buy dirt-cheap clothes from brands like Temu, Shein, and Alibaba — has also allowed for uncertified helmets and non-compliant e-bikes and e-bike batteries to flood the U.S. market. These batteries, which are often falsely marketed as meeting international safety standards, have been responsible for deadly e-bike fires in places like New York City. “A going retail for a good lithium-ion replacement battery for an e-bike is $800 to $1,000,” Townley said. “You look online, and you’ll see batteries at $350, $400, that come direct to you from China under the de minimis exemption.”
Cyclingnews reported recently that Robert Margevicius, the executive vice president of the American bicycle giant Specialized, had filed a complaint with the Trump administration over losing “billions in collectable tariffs” through the loophole. A spokesperson for Specialized defended Margevicius’ comment by calling it an “industry-wide position that is aligned with PeopleForBikes.” (Specialized did not respond to a request for clarification from Heatmap, though a spokesperson told Cyclingnews that de minimis imports permit “unsafe products and intellectual property violation.” PeopleForBikes’ general and policy counsel Matt Moore told me in an email that “we have supported reforming the way the U.S. treats low-value de minimis imports for several years.”)
Trump indeed axed China’s de minimis exemption as part of his April 2 tariffs — a small win for the U.S. bicycle brands. But any protection afforded by duties on cheap imported bikes and e-bikes will be erased by the damage from high tariffs imposed on China and other Asian countries. Fewer than 500,000 bicycles in a 10 million-unit market are even assembled in the United States, and essentially none is entirely manufactured here. “We do not know how to make a bike,” Townley told me flatly. Though a number of major U.S. brands employ engineers to design their bikes, when it comes to home-shoring manufacturing, “all of that knowledge resides in Taiwan, China, Vietnam. It isn’t here.”
In recent years, Chinese factories had become “very proficient at shipping goods from third-party countries” in order to avoid European anti-dumping duties, as well as leftover tariffs from Trump’s first term, Rick Vosper, an industry veteran and columnist at Bicycle Retailer and Industry News, told me. “Many Chinese companies built bicycle assembly plants in Vietnam specifically so the sourcing sticker would not say ‘made in China,’” he added. Of course, those bikes and component parts are now also subject to Trump’s tariffs, which are as high as 57% for Vietnam, 60% for Cambodia, and 43% for Taiwan for most bikes. (A potential added tariff on countries that import oil from Venezuela could bump them even higher.)
The tariffs could not come at a worse time for the industry. 2019 marked one of the slowest years for the U.S. specialty retail bike business in two decades, so when COVID hit — and suddenly everyone wanted a bicycle as a way of exercising and getting around — there was “no inventory to be had, but a huge influx of customers,” Vosper told me. In response, “major players put in huge increases in their orders.”
But by 2023, the COVID-induced demand had evaporated, leaving suppliers with hundreds of millions of dollars in inventory that they couldn’t move. Even by discounting wholesale prices below their own cost to make the product and offering buy-one-get-one deals, dealers couldn’t get the bikes off their hands. “All the people who wanted to buy a bike during COVID have bought a bike and are not ready to buy another one anytime soon,” Vosper said.
Going into 2025, many retailers were still dealing with the COVID-induced bicycle glut; Mike Blok, the founder of Brooklyn Carbon Bike Company in New York City, told me he could think of three or four tristate-area shops off the top of his head that have closed in recent months because they were sitting on inventory.
Blok, however, was cautiously optimistic about his own position. While he stressed that he isn’t a fan of the tariffs, he also largely sells pre-owned bikes. On the low end of the market, the tariffs will likely raise prices no more than about $15 or $20, which might not make much of a difference to consumer behavior. But for something like a higher-end carbon fiber bike, which can run $2,700 or higher and is almost entirely produced in Taiwan, the tariffs could mean an increase of hundreds of dollars for customers. “I think what that will mean for me is that more folks will be open to the pre-owned option,” Blok said, although he also anticipates his input costs for repairs and tuning will go up.
But there’s a bigger, and perhaps even more obvious, problem for bike retailers beyond their products becoming more expensive. “What I sell is not a staple good; people don’t need a bike,” Blok reminded me. “So as folks’ discretionary income diminishes because other things become more expensive, they’ll have less to spend on discretionary items.”
Townley, the industry consultant, confirmed that many major cycling brands had already seen the writing on the wall before Trump announced his tariffs and begun to pivot to re-sale. Bicycling Magazine, a hobbyist publication, is even promoting “buying used” as one of its “tips to help you save” under Trump’s tariffs. Savvy retailers might be able to pivot and rely on their service, customer loyalty, and re-sale businesses to stay afloat during the hard days ahead; Moore of PeopleForBikes also noted that “repair services may increase” as people look to fix what they already have.
And if you don’t have a bike or e-bike but were thinking about getting one as a way to lighten your car dependency, decarbonize your life, or just because they’re cool, “there are still good values to be found,” Moore went on. “Now is a great time to avoid a likely increase in prices.” Townley anticipated that depending on inventory, we’re likely 30 to 40 days away from seeing prices go up.
In the meantime, cycling organizations are scrambling to keep their members abreast of the coming changes. “PeopleForBikes is encouraging our members to contact their elected representatives about the very real impacts these tariffs will have on their companies and our industry,” Moore told me. The National Bicycle Dealers Association, a nonprofit supporting specialty bicycle retailers, has teamed up with the D.C.-based League of American Bicyclists, a ridership organization, to explore lobbying lawmakers for the first time in decades in the hopes that some might oppose the tariffs or explore carve-outs for the industry.
But Townley, whose firm Human Powered Solutions is assisting in NBDA’s effort, shared a grim conversation he had at a recent trade show in Las Vegas, where a new board member at a cycling organization had asked him “what can we do” about Trump’s tariffs.
“I said, ‘You’re out of time,” Townley recalled. “There isn’t much that can be done. All we can do is react.”
Any household savings will barely make a dent in the added costs from Trump’s many tariffs.
Donald Trump’s tariffs — the “fentanyl” levies on Canada, China, and Mexico, the “reciprocal” tariffs on nearly every country (and some uninhabited islands), and the global 10% tariff — will almost certainly cause consumer goods on average to get more expensive. The Yale Budget Lab estimates that in combination, the tariffs Trump has announced so far in his second term will cause prices to rise 2.3%, reducing purchasing power by $3,800 per year per household.
But there’s one very important consumer good that seems due to decline in price.
Trump administration officials — including the president himself — have touted cheaper oil to suggest that the economic response to the tariffs hasn’t been all bad. On Sunday, Secretary of the Treasury Scott Bessent told NBC, “Oil prices went down almost 15% in two days, which impacts working Americans much more than the stock market does.”
Trump picked up this line on Truth Social Monday morning. “Oil prices are down, interest rates are down (the slow moving Fed should cut rates!), food prices are down, there is NO INFLATION,” he wrote. He then spent the day posting quotes from Fox Business commentators echoing that idea, first Maria Bartiromo (“Rates are plummeting, oil prices are plummeting, deregulation is happening. President Trump is not going to bend”) then Charles Payne (“What we’re not talking about is, oil was $76, now it’s $65. Gasoline prices are going to plummet”).
But according to Neil Dutta, head of economic research at Renaissance Macro Research, pointing to falling oil prices as a stimulus is just another example of the “4D chess” theory, under which some market participants attribute motives to Trump’s trade policy beyond his stated goal of reducing trade deficits to as near zero (or surplus!) as possible.
Instead, oil markets are primarily “responding to the recession risk that comes from the tariff and the trade war,” Dutta told me. “That is the main story.” In short, oil markets see less global trade and less global production, and therefore falling demand for oil. The effect on household consumption, he said, was a “second order effect.”
It is true that falling oil prices will help “stabilize consumption,” Dutta told me (although they could also devastate America’s own oil industry). “It helps. It’ll provide some lift to real income growth for consumers, because they’re not spending as much on gasoline.” But “to fully offset the trade war effects, you basically need to get oil down to zero.”
That’s confirmed by some simple and extremely back of the envelope math. In 2023, households on average consumed about 700 gallons of gasoline per year, based on Energy Information Administration calculations that the average gasoline price in 2023 was $3.52, while the Bureau of Labor Statistics put average household gasoline expenditures at about $2,450.
Let’s generously assume that due to the tariffs and Trump’s regulatory and diplomatic efforts, gas prices drop from the $3.26 they were at on Monday, according to AAA, to $2.60, the average price in 2019. (GasBuddy petroleum analyst Patrick De Haanwrote Monday that the tariffs combined with OPEC+ production hikes could lead gas prices “to fall below $3 per gallon.”)
Let’s also assume that this drop in gas prices does not cause people to drive more or buy less fuel-efficient vehicles. In that case, those same 700 gallons cost the average American $1,820, which would generate annual savings of $630 on average per household. If we went to the lowest price since the Russian invasion of Ukraine, about $3 per gallon, total consumption of 700 gallons would cost a household about $2,100, saving $350 per household per year.
That being said, $1,820 is a pretty low level for annual gasoline consumption. In 2021, as the economy was recovering from the Covid recession and before gas prices popped, annual gasoline expenditures only got as low as $1,948; in 2020 — when oil prices dropped to literally negative dollars per barrel and gas prices got down to $1.85 a gallon — annual expenditures were just over $1,500.
In any case, if you remember the opening paragraphs of this story, even the most generous estimated savings would go nowhere near surmounting the overall rise in prices forecast by the Yale Budget Lab. $630 is less than $3,800! (JPMorgan has forecast a more mild increase in prices of 1% to 1.5%, but agrees that prices will likely rise and purchasing power will decline.)
But maybe look at it this way: You might be able to drive a little more than you expected to, even as your costs elsewhere are going up. Just please be careful! You don’t want to get into a bad accident and have to replace your car: New car prices are expected to rise by several thousand dollars due to Trump’s tariffs.
With cars about to get more expensive, it might be time to start tinkering.
More than a decade ago, when I was a young editor at Popular Mechanics, we got a Nissan Leaf. It was a big deal. The magazine had always kept long-term test cars to give readers a full report of how they drove over weeks and months. A true test of the first true production electric vehicle from a major car company felt like a watershed moment: The future was finally beginning. They even installed a destination charger in the basement of the Hearst Corporation’s Manhattan skyscraper.
That Leaf was a bit of a lump, aesthetically and mechanically. It looked like a potato, got about 100 miles of range, and delivered only 110 horsepower or so via its electric motors. This made the O.G. Leaf a scapegoat for Top Gear-style car enthusiasts eager to slander EVs as low-testosterone automobiles of the meek, forced upon an unwilling population of drivers. Once the rise of Tesla in the 2010s had smashed that paradigm and led lots of people to see electric vehicles as sexy and powerful, the original Leaf faded from the public imagination, a relic of the earliest days of the new EV revolution.
Yet lots of those cars are still around. I see a few prowling my workplace parking garage or roaming the streets of Los Angeles. With the faded performance of their old batteries, these long-running EVs aren’t good for much but short-distance city driving. Ignore the outdated battery pack for a second, though, and what surrounds that unit is a perfectly serviceable EV.
That’s exactly what a new brand of EV restorers see. Last week, car site The Autopiancovered DIYers who are scooping up cheap old Leafs, some costing as little as $3,000, and swapping in affordable Chinese-made 62 kilowatt-hour battery units in place of the original 24 kilowatt-hour units to instantly boost the car’s range to about 250 miles. One restorer bought a new battery on the Chinese site Alibaba for $6,000 ($4,500, plus $1,500 to ship that beast across the sea).
The possibility of the (relatively) simple battery swap is a longtime EV owner’s daydream. In the earlier days of the electrification race, many manufacturers and drivers saw simple and quick battery exchange as the solution for EV road-tripping. Instead of waiting half an hour for a battery to recharge, you’d swap your depleted unit for a fully charged one and be on your way. Even Tesla tested this approach last decade before settling for good on the Supercharger network of fast-charging stations.
There are still companies experimenting with battery swaps, but this technology lost. Other EV startups and legacy car companies that followed Nissan and Tesla into making production EVs embraced the rechargeable lithium-ion battery that is meant to be refilled at a fast-charging station and is not designed to be easily removed from the vehicle. Buy an electric vehicle and you’re buying a big battery with a long warranty but no clear plan for replacement. The companies imagine their EVs as something like a smartphone: It’s far from impossible to replace the battery and give the car a new life, but most people won’t bother and will simply move on to a new car when they can’t take the limitations of their old one anymore.
I think about this impasse a lot. My 2019 Tesla Model 3 began its life with a nominal 240 miles of range. Now that the vehicle has nearly six years and 70,000 miles on it, its maximum range is down to just 200, while its functional range at highway speed is much less than that. I don’t want to sink money into another vehicle, which means living with an EV’s range that diminishes as the years go by.
But what if, one day, I replaced its battery? Even if it costs thousands of dollars to achieve, a big range boost via a new battery would make an older EV feel new again, and at a cost that’s still far less than financing a whole new car. The thought is even more compelling in the age of Trump-imposed tariffs that will raise already-expensive new vehicles to a place that’s simply out of reach for many people (though new battery units will be heavily tariffed, too).
This is no simple weekend task. Car enthusiasts have been swapping parts and modifying gas-burning vehicles since the dawn of the automotive age, but modern EVs aren’t exactly made with the garage mechanic in mind. Because so few EVs are on the road, there is a dearth of qualified mechanics and not a huge population of people with the savvy to conduct major surgery on an electric car without electrocuting themselves. A battery-replacing owner would need to acquire not only the correct pack but also potentially adapters and other equipment necessary to make the new battery play nice with the older car. Some Nissan Leaf modifiers are finding their replacement packs aren’t exactly the same size, shape or weight, The Autopian says, meaning they need things like spacers to make the battery sit in just the right place.
A new battery isn’t a fix-all either. The motors and other electrical components wear down and will need to be replaced eventually, too. A man in Norway who drove his Tesla more than a million miles has replaced at least four battery packs and 14 motors, turning his EV into a sort of car of Theseus.
Crucially, though, EVs are much simpler, mechanically, than combustion-powered cars, what with the latter’s belts and spark plugs and thousands of moving parts. The car that surrounds a depleted battery pack might be in perfectly good shape to keep on running for thousands of miles to come if the owner were to install a new unit, one that could potentially give the EV more driving range than it had when it was new.
The battery swap is still the domain of serious top-tier DIYers, and not for the mildly interested or faint of heart. But it is a sign of things to come. A market for very affordable used Teslas is booming as owners ditch their cars at any cost to distance themselves from Elon Musk. Old Leafs, Chevy Bolts and other EVs from the 2010s can be had for cheap. The generation of early vehicles that came with an unacceptably low 100 to 150 miles of range would look a lot more enticing if you imagine today’s battery packs swapped into them. The possibility of a like-new old EV will look more and more promising, especially as millions of Americans realize they can no longer afford a new car.