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Adorable as they are, Japanese kei cars don’t really fit into American driving culture.

It’s easy to feel jaded about America’s car culture when you travel abroad. Visit other countries and you’re likely to see a variety of cool, quirky, and affordable vehicles that aren’t sold in the United States, where bloated and expensive trucks and SUVs dominate.
Even President Trump is not immune from this feeling. He recently visited Japan and, like a study abroad student having a globalist epiphany, seems to have become obsessed with the country’s “kei” cars, the itty-bitty city autos that fill up the congested streets of Tokyo and other urban centers. Upon returning to America, Trump blasted out a social media message that led with, “I have just approved TINY CARS to be built in America,” and continued, “START BUILDING THEM NOW!!!”
He’s right: Kei cars are neat. These pint-sized coupes, hatchbacks, and even micro-vans and trucks are so cute and weird that U.S. car collectors have taken to snatching them up (under the rules that allow 25-year-old cars to be imported to America regardless of whether they meet our standards). And he’s absolutely right that Americans need smaller and more affordable automotive options. Yet it’s far from clear that what works in Japan will work here — or that the auto execs who stood behind Trump last week as he announced a major downgrading of upcoming fuel economy standards are keen to change course and start selling super-cheap economy cars.
Americans want our cars to do everything. This country’s fleet of Honda CR-Vs and Chevy Silverados have plenty of space for school carpools and grocery runs around town, and they’re powerful and safe enough for road-tripping hundreds of miles down the highway. It’s a theme that’s come up repeatedly in our coverage of electric vehicles. EVs are better for cities and suburbs than internal combustion vehicles, full stop. But they may never match the lightning-fast road trip pit stop people have come to expect from their gasoline-powered vehicles, which means they don’t fit cleanly into many Americans’ built-in idea of what a car should be.
This has long been a problem for selling Americans on microcars. We’ve had them before: As recently as a dozen years ago, extra-small autos like the Smart ForTwo and Scion iQ were available here. Those tiny cars made tons of sense in the United States’ truly dense urban areas; I’ve seen them strategically parked in the spaces between homes in San Francisco that are too short for any other car. They made less sense in the more wide-open spaces and sprawling suburbs that make up this country. The majority of Americans who don’t struggle with street parking and saw that they could get much bigger cars for not that much more money weren’t that interested in owning a car that’s only good for local driving.
The same dynamic exists with the idea of bringing kei cars for America. They’re not made to go faster than 40 or 45 miles per hour, and their diminutive size leaves little room for the kind of safety features needed to make them highway-legal here. (Can you imagine driving that tiny car down a freeway filled with 18-wheelers?) Even reaching street legal status is a struggle. While reporting earlier this year on the rise of kei car enthusiasts, The New York Times noted that while some states have moved to legalize mini-cars, it is effectively illegal to register them in New York. (They interviewed someone whose service was to register the cars in Montana for customers who lived elsewhere.)
If the automakers did follow Trump’s directive and stage a tiny car revival, it would be a welcome change for budget-focused Americans. Just a handful of new cars can be had for less than $25,000 in the U.S. today, and drivers are finally beginning to turn against the exorbitant prices of new vehicles and the endless car loans required to finance them. Individuals and communities have turned increasingly to affordable local transportation options like golf carts and e-bikes for simply getting around. Tiny cars could occupy a space between those vehicles and the full-size car market. Kei trucks, which take the pickup back to its utilitarian roots, would be a wonderful option for small businesses that just need bare-bones hauling capacity.
Besides convincing size-obsessed Americans that small is cool, there is a second problem with bringing kei cars to the U.S., which is figuring out how to make little vehicles fit into the American car world. Following Trump’s declaration that America should get Tokyo-style tiny cars ASAP, Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy said “we have cleared the deck” of regulations that would prevent Toyota or anyone else from selling tiny cars here. Yet shortly thereafter, the Department of Transportation clarified that, “As with all vehicles, manufacturers must certify that they meet U.S. Federal Motor Vehicle Safety Standards, including for crashworthiness and passenger protection.”
In other words, Ford and GM can’t just start cranking out microcars that don’t include all the airbags and other protections necessary to meet American crash test and rollover standards (not without a wholesale change to our laws, anyway). As a result, U.S. tiny cars couldn’t be as tiny as Japanese ones. Nor would they be as cheap, which is a crucial issue. Americans might spend $10,000 on a city-only car, but probably wouldn’t spend $20,000 — not when they could just get a plain old Toyota Corolla or a used SUV for that much.
It won’t be easy to convince the car companies to go down this road, either. They moved so aggressively toward crossovers and trucks over the past few decades because Americans would pay a premium for those vehicles, making them far more profitable than economy cars. The margins on each kei car would be much smaller, and since the stateside market for them might be relatively small, this isn’t an alluring business proposition for the automakers. It would be one thing if they could just bring the small cars they’re selling elsewhere and market them in the United States without spending huge sums to redesign them for America. But under current laws, they can’t.
Not to mention the whiplash effect: The Trump administration’s attacks on EVs left the carmakers struggling to rearrange their plans. Ford and Chevy probably aren’t keen to start the years-long process of designing tiny cars to please a president who’ll soon be distracted by something else.
Trump’s Tokyo fantasy is based in a certain reality: Our cars are too big and too expensive. But while kei cars would be fantastic for driving around Boston, D.C., or San Francisco, the rides that America really needs are the reasonably sized vehicles we used to have — the hatchbacks, small trucks, and other vehicles that used to be common on our roads before the Ford F-150 and Toyota RAV4 ate the American car market. A kei truck might be too minimalist for mainstream U.S. drivers, but how about a hybrid revival of the El Camino, or a truck like the upcoming Slate EV whose dimensions reflect what a compact truck used to be? Now that I could see.
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New tariffs and price floors for imported polysilicon aim to protect U.S. producers from Chinese competition.
Almost exactly a month after President Donald Trump’s landmark tax law effectively eliminated a key incentive for solar developers to buy panels made in America, his administration is throwing a lifeline to manufacturers behind the nation’s fastest-growing and quickest-to-deploy source of electricity.
On Thursday afternoon, after the markets closed, the White House announced new tariffs and minimum import prices for imported polysilicon as part of an effort to prop up the domestic supply chain for the primary ingredient in semiconductors and solar panels.
The levies come in response to complaints from polysilicon makers that the dearth of U.S. factories demanding solar-grade polysilicon made it difficult to compete with Chinese giants who benefit from selling both the solar- and microchip-grade versions of the ultra-pure industrial material derived from quartz and sand. The companies made the petition under Section 232 of the Trade Expansion Act of 1962, which gives the White House the power to restrict imports and charge tariffs on imports that demonstrably impair national security.
The Trump administration will impose a 15% tariff on all imports and set baseline prices at which the levies would apply for each component in the solar supply chain. Polysilicon will have a minimum import price of $20 per kilogram. Wafers, the ultra-thin slice of crystalline silicon that acts as the foundation of a photovoltaic cell, and ingots, the silicon material before it’s sliced, will start at $100 per kilogram. Cells, the tiny silicon-based devices that absorb photons from sunlight and break away electrons that generate electrical currents, will have a minimum price of $0.22 per watt. Modules, the completed panels, are $0.38 a watt.
The majority of U.S. solar factories simply assemble wafers and cells into modules, leaving them reliant on imports. But the policy won’t hit all at once. The Commerce Department is giving companies 120 days before the restrictions kick in.
The agency will also set up an incentive program that allows manufacturers that make large capital investments in the U.S. to avoid the worst of the levies. Jeffrey Kessler, the Under Secretary of Commerce in charge of executing on 232 cases, pushed for the provision as a bid to avoid what happened when Europe attempted to protect its own solar manufacturers by setting a minimum import price meant to keep Chinese companies from flooding the market. That policy ended up subsidizing the very Chinese parent companies putting market domination ahead of profits back home.
Avoiding that outcome is tricky under any circumstances. China and the U.S. don’t have a tax treaty, which makes it difficult for American authorities to confirm a company’s ownership structure. The surest way to seal off the U.S. market is with 100% tariffs such as those imposed on Chinese electric vehicles.
In this case, the Commerce Department decided to allow companies with active plans to onshore the solar supply chain to apply for an exemption from the new trade rules. Ahead of the announcement, sources familiar with the talks listed South Korean giant Qcells, which just opened the nation’s largest integrated solar factory in Georgia, as one obvious example of a company that would pass muster.
Solar manufacturers applauded the move. “Today’s decision from the White House balances the reality of where America’'s solar energy manufacturing is today while advancing our collective ambition to onshore the entire supply chain from polysilicon to finished panels in the U.S.,” Andy Park, the global CEO of Qcells, said in an emailed statement. “American solar manufacturers are ready to rise to the occasion.”
The trade action “creates a market where wafer and cell manufacturing can happen in the United States, and companies can go fully vertically integrated,” Nick Iacovella, the executive vice president of the Coalition for a Prosperous America, a bipartisan trade association that represents manufacturing companies at every stage of the polysilicon supply chain, told Heatmap.
“What this does is cement a key input in the supply chain that’s critical not just for chips, but for the most efficient, best-performing solar modules,” he said. “We shore up our chip supply chain at a time when there is a greater urgency to derisk from China invading Taiwan — and also during a time when the AI data center boom is driving massive demand for new energy generation, with solar driving a lot of the new capacity coming onto the grid.”
The levies come a week after the Federal Communications Commission banned the use of new types of foreign-made inverters, the equipment needed to patch solar panels onto the grid. Analysts said the ban would have a limited effect on the solar industry, since it allows for the current models on the market to be sold. The purpose of that policy is to prop up domestic factories at a moment when Europe, despite its struggle to reindustrialize, is experiencing an inverter manufacturing boom.
Despite those intentions, multiple industry sources who spoke on condition of anonymity told Heatmap that trade restrictions alone would likely prove insufficient to prop up a domestic solar supply chain at the scale needed to minimize imports.
The latest data from the Rhodium Group found that new U.S. investments in solar factories peaked from the second half of 2022 through the first quarter of 2025. During that time, as Emily reported in May, the announced projects averaged more than $2 billion per quarter. At least 30 new utility-scale solar factories opened across the U.S. just last year.
Since then, development has plummeted. Investment in new solar factories announced fell to about $350 million in the first quarter of 2026, a drop of more than 80%.
By raising the price of panels overall, the Commerce Department is providing a particular boon to America’s leading solar manufacturer, First Solar. While the Phoenix-based panel-maker’s thin-film cell technology doesn’t use polysilicon, the price hike from the tariffs will give the company an edge by allowing the company to either raise its prices to match new industry-wide benefits or undercut its competitors. Investors in the company told Heatmap its recent bookings average sales of about $0.36 per watt.
Another clear winner is T1 Energy, which Roth analysts say “would eventually be a beneficiary once it ramps up its U.S. cell manufacturing, which is now expected to come online” next year. The company’s share price spiked more than 10% in after-hours trading, while First Solar was up more than 8%.
“There are a lot of people in the administration who support solar,” Iacovella said. “They just don’t want a bunch of Chinese solar panels.”
Still, he added, “this is all about the chip supply chain.” While the benefits to solar are welcome, “this is a two-for-one.”
The Trump administration has signed a deal with RWE, a German developer, to cancel more than 3 gigawatts of offshore wind near New York and New Jersey.
This is an edition of Heatmap Daily, an evening review of the day’s news written by our executive editor. Sign up for it here.
There goes another one. The German energy developer RWE has signed a $1.2 billion deal with the Trump administration to give up its claims to develop offshore wind farms in New York, California, and Louisiana. The Trump administration has now bought out 12 offshore wind leases, paying energy developers $3.93 billion for the privilege of not developing renewable energy along the American coastline.
Today’s is the largest payout yet — and fittingly so, I suppose, because it is among the most damaging. As part of the deal, RWE abandoned its plans to build a more than 3-gigawatt offshore wind farm in the New York Bight. When RWE first leased that site in 2022, it paid $1.1 billion for it — the biggest offshore wind lease auction ever held in the United States.
RWE promised that the resulting facility, dubbed Community Offshore Wind, would generate 700 jobs and $3 billion in local economic activity. It would have been close enough to New Jersey and New York that its power could have flowed to either state, although no final power contract was ever signed. Now all of that is kaput.
In the eyes of some critics, RWE had overpaid for that lease — and in that context, the Trump administration has I suppose done the German developer a favor, bailing them out from a bad investment in a legally dubious manner. (New York’s attorney general is suing to block a similar payout to Total Energies.)
But even beyond that context, there remains one big problem with these deals — an issue even more glaring now than when Trump started targeting wind projects last year. It is that the United States — and especially the Northeast, and especially New York — needs as much electricity as it can get right now. The Trump administration is striving to bring new power demand online in the form of data centers, but cutting off new sources of generation if they fail to meet its aesthetic standards.
Anticipating this sensitivity, RWE’s press statement announcing the deal goes on to list major energy projects that it’s committed to in the United States. These projects all involve, coincidentally (or not), fossil fuels: They include a $900 million stake in a Louisiana liquified natural gas export terminal and a $300 million reservation for new natural gas turbines. (RWE implies, but doesn’t say outright, that it will build 15 natural gas peaker plants with these turbines.) When we asked for more details about these projects, and whether we should anticipate anything new, RWE immediately got back to us: “We are unable to discuss further details on the investments.”
Yet as RWE well knows, these projects won’t help solve a coming energy shortage in New York or New England. For one, the Louisiana LNG export terminal is, well, an export terminal: It will help move energy out of the country, not generate more of it at home. Those exports might boost Americans’ fortunes in a vague, long-term, balance-of-payments way, but they won’t keep a lid on anyone’s power bills (which, by the way, just hit an all-time high). More importantly, the 15 peaker plants that RWE cites are largely going to be built … in other regions of the country. If the lights go out on Houston Street, a new gas plant in Houston can’t help.
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.”