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At least it doesn’t look as good as the ID.Buzz.
Volvo, a company that has never in its nearly 100 years of existence manufactured a minivan, is among the first automakers bringing an electric model to market.
The Swedish automaker, which was acquired by the Chinese company Geely in 2010, began teasing its first-ever minivan, the EM90, on social media in late September with images that looked like screenshots from Mad Men. In one, the silhouette of the van is barely visible outside the curtains of a shag-carpeted, wood-paneled living room, where a man sits with his feet up in an Eames chair. In another, the front bumper is peaking out the window of a high-rise office with a skyline view, where a designer is hunched over his drafting table.
It appeared that Volvo was marketing its electric minivan as something that minivans never were and perhaps have no reason to ever be: Highbrow.
Indeed, on Monday, full images of the vehicle were posted online by China’s Ministry of Industry and Information Technology, and it’s hard to square them with the company’s marketing. The EM90 looks just as boxy and uninspiring as the minivans of yore — like an Escalade with rounded edges.
That’s not necessarily a bad thing. The secret to the minivan, like many things in life, is that it’s what’s on the inside that counts: the capaciousness, comfort, convenience, and sense of safety that is unmatched by any sportier, sexier SUV. My guess is that if minivans are ever going to be cool, it won’t be because businessmen and designers start driving them. Rather, there will be some cultural reawakening to all the reasons suburban moms, rock bands, and surf bums loved them in the first place.
As a climate reporter, one of the things I’m most interested in when it comes to electric vehicles is how companies are trying to convince the public they are just as good, nay, better than their gas-powered predecessors. And as a champion of the minivan, I’m heartened by the prospect that the electric revolution could bring about a minivan comeback. But in this case, I’m not sure Volvo really gets what it’s selling. Volkswagen, on the other hand, with its retro-looking ID. Buzz, is striving to tap into nostalgia without losing sight of the pure utility the vehicle offers families and adventurers alike.
But perhaps I’m wrong. The suburban soccer mom stigma of the minivan is a distinctly American phenomenon, and at least for now, there are no plans to bring the Volvo EV minivan to the U.S. The vehicle is set to debut in China next month.
(Volvo did not respond to questions whether it has plans to bring an electric minivan to the U.S.)
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Companies are racing to finish the paperwork on their Department of Energy loans.
Of the over $13 billion in loans and loan guarantees that the Energy Department’s Loan Programs Office has made under Biden, nearly a third of that funding has been doled out in the month since the presidential election. And of the $41 billion in conditional commitments — agreements to provide a loan once the borrower satisfies certain preconditions — that proportion rises to nearly half. That includes some of the largest funding announcements in the office’s history: more than $7.5 billion to StarPlus Energy for battery manufacturing, $4.9 billion to Grain Belt Express for a transmission project, and nearly $6.6 billion to the electric vehicle company Rivian to support its new manufacturing facility in Georgia.
The acceleration represents a clear push by the outgoing Biden administration to get money out the door before President-elect Donald Trump, who has threatened to hollow out much of the Department of Energy, takes office. Still, there’s a good chance these recent conditional commitments won’t become final before the new administration takes office, as that process involves checking a series of nontrivial boxes that include performing due diligence, addressing or mitigating various project risks, and negotiating financing terms. And if the deals aren’t finalized before Trump takes office, they’re at risk of being paused or cancelled altogether, something the DOE considers unwise, to put it lightly.
“It would be irresponsible for any government to turn its back on private sector partners, states, and communities that are benefiting from lower energy costs and new economic opportunities spurred by LPO’s investments,” a spokesperson wrote to me in an email.
The once nearly dormant LPO has had a renaissance under the Biden administration and the office’s current director, Jigar Shah. The Inflation Reduction Act supercharged its lending authority to $400 billion, from just $40 billion when Biden took office. Then a week after the election, the office announced that it had recalibrated its risk estimates for the loan guarantees that it makes under the Energy Infrastructure Reinvestment program, which works to modernize and repurpose existing energy infrastructure to make it cleaner and more energy efficient. As the office explained, these projects “may reflect a relatively moderate risk profile in comparison to typical projects LPO finances with higher project risk.” When there’s less risk involved, LPO doesn’t have to set aside as much money to cover a possible default, which in this case has allowed the office to more than quadruple its funding for qualifying projects.
It’s not just that LPO staffers are working fast, though that’s part of it — it’s also that loan beneficiaries have picked up their pace in responding to the LPO. As Shah emphasized today at the LPO’s second annual Demonstrate Deploy Decarbonize conference, finalizing conditional commitments largely depends on companies getting their ducks in a row as quickly as possible. “I do think that right now borrowers are sufficiently motivated to move more quickly than they have probably a year ago,” Shah said. “It's up to the borrowers. Our process hasn’t changed. Their ability to move through it faster is in their control.”
Shah noted that though timelines may be accelerating, the office’s due diligence procedures have remained the same. Thus far, the project that has moved the fastest from a conditional commitment to a finalized loan was for a clean hydrogen and energy storage facility in Utah. That took 43 days, and there are 46 left in Biden’s presidency. Let’s see what the LPO can do.
The expanded investment tax credit rules are out.
In the waning days of the Biden administration, the Treasury Department is dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s on the tax rules that form the heart of the Inflation Reduction Act and its climate strategy. Today, Treasury has released final rules for the Section 48 Investment Tax Credit, which gives project owners (and/or their tax equity partners) 30% back on their investments in clean energy production.
The IRA-amended investment tax credit, plus its sibling production tax credit, are updates and expansion on tax policies that have been in place for decades supporting largely the solar and wind industries. To be clear, today’s announcement does not contain the final rules for the so-called “technology-neutral” clean electricity tax credits established under the IRA, which will supercede the existing investment and production tax credits beginning next year and for which all non-carbon emitting sources of energy can qualify.
But projects that begin construction this year can still qualify for and claim the legacy credits, which were expanded by the Inflation Reduction Act to include things like standalone energy storage. Projects that go into service this year would only be eligible for the legacy credits, while a project that begins construction this year and goes into service next year or later could choose between the legacy credits or the tech neutral credits, but not both.
The proposed rules, released in November of last year, set off a flurry of campaigning and lobbying by the industry, seeking adjustments to their favor. The final regulations largely hew to the earlier release, although they do include clarifications on what precise aspects of an energy system qualify for the credits. Under the final rules, for instance the “upgrading equipment” necessary for “cleaning and conditioning” biogas — i.e. removing other gases to make it a pure gas stream — can qualify for the credit.
Going into the end of the year, the major items left on the Treasury Department’s agenda were the tech neutral tax credits, rules for the advanced manufacturing tax credit, and rules for credits related to the production of clean hydrogen; advanced manufacturing tax credit rules came out in late October. While the Biden Treasury is doing its best to get rules out the door before Donald Trump’s inauguration, the fate of all clean energy tax credits is up in the air as Republicans prepare take power in Washington and start carving up the IRA, whether by “sledgehammer” or by “scalpel.”
Re-meet the once and future director of the Office of Management and Budget, Russell Vought.
President-elect Donald Trump spent the Friday evening before Thanksgiving filling out nearly the rest of his Cabinet. He plans for his Treasury secretary to be a hedge fund manager who’s called the Inflation Reduction Act “the Doomsday machine for the deficit”; he’s named a vaccine safety skeptic to lead the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention; and his pick to head the Department of Labor is a Republican congresswoman who may want to ease the enforcement of child labor rules if confirmed.
And — in one of the most consequential moves yet for America’s standing in the fight to mitigate climate change — Trump also named Russ Vought to lead the Office of Management and Budget. The decision comes as no surprise — Vought served as deputy director of the OMB under Trump in 2018 and took over the top job in 2019, serving until the end of Trump’s first presidency. The strategic communications group Climate Power had been sounding the alarm on his potential return to the office since this spring, which included sharing their research on him with me.
Unlike many Trump administration nominees, who tend to be loyalists with limited experience in the offices they’re appointed to oversee, Vought is noteworthy for having thought long and hard about how to “purge federal agencies of nonpartisan experts” and replace them with “partisan loyalists who would willingly follow any order without question, regardless of whether it was legal, constitutional, or the right thing to do for the people,” Joe Spielberger, the policy counsel at the Project on Government Oversight, an independent and nonpartisan watchdog group, told me when I covered Vought’s agenda earlier this year.
Vought plans to do so mainly by reinstating Schedule F, a job classification that would designate at least 50,000 career civil servants as “at-will” political employees, including climate scientists National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration and others who sit on committees like the Clean Air Scientific Advisory. In Vought’s words in his chapter of Project 2025, “the Biden Administration’s climate fanaticism will need a whole-of-government unwinding.” (In a recent conversation with Tucker Carlson, the pair speculated about being able to “fire them all.”) Vought already tried this once, at the end of Trump’s first term, and Biden swiftly reversed it upon taking office.
Beyond gutting America’s scientific corps, possibly for generations, if confirmed, Vought will immediately make his presence in the Trump administration felt, having spent the past few years secretly drafting “hundreds of executive orders, regulations, and memos that would lay the groundwork for rapid action on Trump’s plans,” according to reporting by CNN and based on undercover video released by the Centre for Climate Reporting, which recorded a candid conversation with former OMB director about his plans under false pretenses. “Eighty percent of my time is working on the plans of what’s necessary to take control of these bureaucracies,” Vought told his interviewers. “And we are working doggedly on that,” including by “destroying their agencies’ notion of independence.”
Though Trump (and his campaign) tried to deflect the influence of the Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025 roadmap for his presidency, insisting he is an independent thinker not beholden to anyone, the president-elect’s appointment of Vought and other Project 2025 authors such as Brendan Carr, Tom Homan, and John Ratcliffe to powerful posts in his administration renders those denials specious, to say the least. More crucially, it suggests a certain intellectual deferral to Vought, enthroning him as one of the key architects of Trumpism 2.0. Through his Christian nationalist group, Center for Renewing America, Vought has spread his framework for solidifying executive power (and eliminating its checks and obstacles) throughout Washington’s right-wing intellectual circles, giving him a powerful base of support.
All this from the OMB, though — one of the, let’s face it, more boring offices of government? As Vought knows, however: If you control the budget, then you do everything.