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It’s useful for more than just decarbonization.

Now that President Donald Trump has been officially inaugurated and issued his barrage of executive orders celebrating fossil fuels and shelving climate technologies such as wind energy and electric vehicles, climate tech startups are in a pickle. Federal funding can play a critical role in helping companies scale up and build out first-of-a-kind projects and facilities. So how to work with a government hostile to one of these startups’ core value propositions: aiding in the energy transition?
Talk of clean tech and electrification may be out of vogue, but its utility is not. The potential of many of these companies goes beyond mitigating climate change and into the realm of energy security and resilience — something the Department of Defense is well aware of.
The White House’s climate webpage has gone dark; the Department of Defense’s climate resilience portal lasted a little longer, but that’s now down, too. Once upon a time, though, the site read, “The changing climate is one of many threat multipliers to National Security, which adds complexity to Department of Defense decisions.” That’s a major reason why this agency can’t stop, won’t stop funding climate technologies. Another reason is that many technologies that happen to be good for the planet might also simply be the best tool for the job, meaning the DOD need not utter the word “climate” at all when justifying its decision to deploy new solutions.
“The Defense Department, so far in our experience, has framed things largely in terms of alternative benefits that our technology can have, such as fuel supply chain redundancy and reliability,” Ted McKlveen, co-founder and CEO of the hydrogen storage company Verne, told me. Verne received a $250,000 Small Business Innovation Research grant from the Army last May to work on the development of hydrogen vehicles.
Cindy Taff, CEO of the next-generation geothermal startup Sage Geosystems, told me something similar. “What the military likes to talk about is energy resilience,” she said, though she has heard the DOD tout the climate benefits of her company’s tech, too. Sage currently has multiple DOD engagements, including feasibility studies with both the Army and Navy and a $1.9 million grant to build a demonstration project for the Air Force.
That’s not to say it’s clear what the Department of Defense’s funding priorities under Trump will be. When I contacted the DOD in mid-December to request an interview for this story, a spokesperson initially told me they would help connect me to the right person. But as Trump’s inauguration drew nearer, I got a message saying the agency would have to hold off until it got more guidance, as “it remains to be seen in the next few weeks what direction the new administration is going.”
Regardless of how the priorities shake out, practically every climate-focused company and venture capitalist I talk to emphasizes that their companies will only succeed if they can make or invest in products that can compete on economics and/or quality alone, sans government support. That was true even before a second Trump turn in the White House started to look like an inevitability, and this new administration will at least partially reveal which companies can do that. But while everybody aims to be independent of federal support, they might not actually need to say goodbye to that funding stream, so long as they can tout their economic and performance benefits to the right customers.
Take Pyka, for example. When Michael Norcia co-founded the autonomous electric aircraft company in 2017, the ultimate goal was to design a passenger plane. “We want that to be our legacy, but we were also very, very realistic about the challenges associated with actually doing that,” he told me. So when the DOD took an interest in the company’s commercial cargo planes and their potential ability to deliver supplies in contested environments, the startup jumped at the opportunity, delivering its first aircraft to AFWERX, the innovation arm of the Department of the Air Force, early last year. Interest from such a lucrative government customer helped the company to close its $40 million Series B round in September.
Of course, the decarbonization benefits of electrifying military cargo delivery would be huge. But unsurprisingly, Norcia told me that the DOD primarily frames the opportunity in terms of the capabilities of all-electric or hybrid-electric planes, which could take a variety of fuels, operate quietly, and give off minimal heat, making them more difficult to detect via thermal imaging. Plus, the more equipment is electrified the better, “in terms of having them be able to operate in a highly contested environment, where moving fuel around maybe is not feasible,” Norcia explained. Not to mention the fact that if a manned aircraft is shot down, people die, meaning that in a counterfactual sense, Pyka’s tech is saving lives.
Verne’s North Star is also decarbonization. And given that the military is the world’s largest oil consumer, McKlveen was excited to partner with the Army to put its hydrogen storage tech to use in medium and heavy-duty vehicles. The company stores hydrogen (ideally green hydrogen, produced via renewables-powered electrolysis) at high density as a cold, compressed gas, making it possible to build hydrogen vehicles with greater range and lower cost than has traditionally been done. Similar to Pyka, the Army is enthused that these vehicles would be difficult for adversaries to detect, as they’re quiet and give off little heat. Likewise, McKlveen told me that hydrogen power could replace the Army’s notoriously noisy generators.
While Verne has also partnered with the Department of Energy and its R&D arm, ARPA-E, McKlveen said that working with the DOD has been unique in a few ways. “The key difference is the DOD is a customer and a grant provider. So they can say both what their needs are as a potential customer and represent a potential customer,” he explained. This, along with the agency’s clear, phased approach that it puts companies through, helps bring a level of transparency to the whole process, from pilot to full-fledged military implementation, that McKlveen appreciates.
And lest we forget, “they also have a very large budget,” he told me. For fiscal year 2025, the DOD has requested $849.8 billion, while the DOE, by comparison, has requested a mere $51.4 billion.
“I find military people to be get-it-done type of people,” Taff of Sage Geosystems told me. “So I think that helps to create a sense of urgency and also push things along a lot faster than you would see with maybe other organizations.” Sage uses drilling technologies adopted from the oil and gas industry to access heat for clean electricity production across a wide variety of geographies. This is an especially attractive option for the DOD as the majority of geothermal infrastructure is underground, and thus well protected from attack. And unlike other renewables, this tech can provide 24/7 energy no matter the weather conditions. So it’s no surprise that the military is pouring money into this sector, pursuing partnerships with other big names in the geothermal space such as Fervo Energy and Eavor.
Electric planes, hydrogen, and geothermal all felt intuitively justifiable to me from a defense standpoint, but I was more surprised to learn that the DOD has gotten into the alternative proteins, a.k.a. “fake meat”, industry. Though meat substitutes won’t power tankers or keep the lights on, the Defense Department’s $1.4 million grant to The Better Meat Co. is intended to strengthen the American supply chain. China’s Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Affairs views lab-grown meat as critical to its five-year agricultural plan. “So we don’t want to have the United States be importing clean protein in the way that we’re currently dependent on Asia for our semiconductors and photovoltaics,” Paul Shapiro, the company’s CEO, told me.
The Better Meat Co. produces a protein called Rhiza that’s derived from microscopic fungi, which it then sells as an ingredient to other companies to make either 100% animal-free meat or a meat blend. “This isn’t an alternative protein program. It’s a domestic biomanufacturing program,” Shapiro told me when I asked if military funding for meat substitutes could be at risk under Trump. Looking at some of the other companies that got grants through the same program, he said, “it’s literally like bio manufacturing things for military planes and jet lubricants and chemical catalysts for bullets.” That is, probably not Republican targets for defunding. “It’s clearly solely about wanting the U.S. to be a leader in biomanufacturing for the products that the world is going to depend on in the future.”
The DOD also sees promise in numerous other clean energy technologies, including nuclear microreactors for their portability and ability to provide off-grid energy in remote locations and alternate battery chemistries that could help the U.S. move away from a dependence on Chinese-produced lithium-ion batteries.
But despite the deep well of funding and pragmatic approach to deployment that the Department of Defense offers, agreeing to work with the DOD isn’t always an obvious choice. Many fear their company’s tech could be used in ways and in wars that they oppose. In 2018, for example, thousands of Google employees signed a letter opposing the company’s participation in Project Maven, a partnership with the Pentagon that uses artificial intelligence to improve the accuracy of drone strikes. Supporters of the project said it would lead to fewer civilian deaths, while protestors argued that Google “should not be in the business of war.” Google did not renew the contract. More recently, employees at Microsoft, Google, and Amazon have signed petitions opposing their company’s provision of cloud computing and AI services to the Israeli government.
Norcia noted that most, but not all of his employees were neutral to positive when it came to working with the Air Force, while “for a small minority of the company, it unfortunately was not something that they really wanted to devote their life to.” While he understands that perspective, Norcia does believe that Pyka’s work with the DOD is a net positive for the world. “If you assume wars are going to keep happening — which, unfortunately, I think is the reality — I’d rather have it be the case that they’re more of a robot war than a human war,” he told me. And at the end of the day, passenger planes are still the goal.
As for his team at Verne, McKlveen told me everybody was on board. “The Defense Department has led to some of the biggest innovations of the last century, whether that’s the internet or GPS. And our team knows that.” Plus, even if the DOD doesn’t talk much about the climate benefits of sustainability-focused tech, that doesn’t negate them. A 2019 study revealed that the Pentagon purchases an average of 100 million barrels of oil per year, so from that perspective, “it’s hard to find a bigger customer that we can address,” McKlveen told me.
Norcia agreed. “I think the gains of your impact get turned way up if you’re doing work with the DOD,” he said, “as opposed to, you know, building an app that makes something incrementally more efficient or more addictive.”
Editor’s note: This story has been updated to reflect that DOD’s climate resilience portal has been taken down.
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The EV maker appears to be poised to start construction on its second factory.
Rivian’s stock fell 18% on Monday, but it’s hard to imagine the company’s executives are too upset. Why? Because the automaker seems to be on the verge of starting work on its long-awaited second factory, 45 miles east of downtown Atlanta.
Let’s do some reading between the lines. Rivian has had a great few weeks. The EV maker announced last week that it is on track to sell about 3,000 more cars this year than expected, and its stock has been on a tear, rising more than 37% from close on June 25 to close on Monday.
The company’s CEO, RJ Scaringe, evidently decided it was time to capitalize on the run-up. The company announced on Monday evening that it would offer another 75 million shares of its stock this week, diluting existing investors. That raise would be used to fund “general corporate purposes,” according to a federal filing, including “the funding of certain equity contributions” related to an Energy Department loan.
Back in April, the company came to new terms with the Department of Energy’s in-house bank over a nearly $6.6 billion loan to build its new Georgia factory, which is supposed to manufacture the company’s new line of cheaper R2 SUV and R3 crossovers. That federal loan — initially negotiated in the Biden administration’s final days — was downsized to $4.5 billion under the new Trump-era terms, but also rewritten to let the automaker draw more money from the deal faster. (Rivian is already making the R2 at its existing factory in Normal, Illinois, but the Georgia factory should have about 40% more capacity than that plant.)
As part of any Energy Department loan — as in any project finance transaction — borrowers have to hold a certain amount of cash in escrow and reserve accounts to secure against a deal failing. Now Rivian can fund that money without tapping its cash on hand further. The new share offering is supposed to price this evening, suggesting that despite today’s slide, the company could raise more than $1 billion from the sale. Rivian’s stock is now trading roughly where it stood a month ago.
The upshot of all of this: With the loan secured, serious building efforts could finally start soon on the automaker’s second factory. (The automaker technically broke ground in September, but has yet to begin meaningful construction.)
“We’re setting up to go vertical in the second half of this year (a.k.a. steel sticking out of the ground) but we have said previously that we expect to draw on the loan for the first time by early 2027,” Peebles Squire, a Rivian spokesman, told me in an email. “Factory timeline is production of vehicles to begin in late 2028.”
(Energy Department loans work on a reimbursement basis, so the automaker will need to begin spending on the factory before it can claim the money.)
Though Rivian is among the most successful of the U.S. electric vehicle startups, it wasn’t completely clear after President Trump took office whether the automaker would survive its trek through the valley of death. It’s still not certain, of course. But positive reviews for the R2, a $6 billion deal with Volkswagen, and its significant Sun Belt factory nearing construction all augur well for the country’s most famous EV startup not run by Elon Musk.
“It’s got nothing to do with technology. It’s nothing to do with execution capability. It’s purely due to access to capital.”
Ever since Trump reentered the White House, Europe has been a safe haven for U.S. climate tech companies fleeing an increasingly hostile policy environment. Through strong carbon pricing and stable regulations, the bloc has created demand for still-experimental technologies such as green hydrogen, thermal energy storage, low-carbon building materials, and sustainable fuels.
And yet at the same time, Europe has struggled to finance many of its own climate tech startups as they enter the capital-intensive scale-up phase. What gives?
The problem is not a lack of startups or capital. European firms raised $61 billion for climate-focused funds last year, far outpacing those in the U.S., which brought in $37 billion, according to Sightline Climate. The problem is that almost all of that European money flows to infrastructure and private equity investors backing more mature technologies. Early-stage startups also enjoy relatively strong backing, but the market starves the growth-stage middle.
The issue is both cultural and structural: Most of the bloc’s investors are unaccustomed to making the high-risk, high-reward bets required to scale climate tech. They also often can’t access tools like loan and equity guarantees, which remain limited in Europe, nor are there the institutional limited partners and growth-stage co-investors that could help de-risk those investments.
“It’s got nothing to do with technology. It’s nothing to do with execution capability. It’s purely due to access to capital,” Craig Douglas, a founding partner at the Berlin-based multi-stage venture firm World Fund, told me. That means companies that have outgrown early-stage financing but are still considered too small or too risky for larger institutional investors often either shutter or seek capital abroad. Logically, if given the chance, most startups choose the latter.
“You’re allowing U.S. investors to cherry pick European assets,” Douglas told me. The result? “European technologies and European companies that are successful end up enriching American pension funds rather than European pension funds.”
Ioannis Ioannou, an associate professor of strategy and entrepreneurship at the London Business School, told me that the consequences extend beyond the purely financial, emphasizing that Europe runs a strategic risk by relying on foreign capital for its climate tech scale-up. “It means you lose the supply chains. You lose the skills. You lose the fine manufacturing capabilities. You lose the so-called green jobs.”
Douglas and the other specialists in European climate finance I spoke with emphasized that the ever-ominous “missing middle” funding gap is particularly pronounced in Europe. A report Douglas co-authored earlier this year, aptly titled “The Series B Funding Gap In European Climate Tech,” quantifies the problem. While 25% of U.S. climate tech companies that raised a seed round from 2010 to 2020 had moved on to secure a Series B by the first half of last year — regardless of what country the capital came from — only 15% of European companies were able to do the same. That has created a growing backlog of startups stuck in a financing limbo: The lineup of European companies looking to raise a Series B grew from 220 in 2020 to 533 in the first half of last year.
While smaller climate tech funds in Europe and the U.S. have raised similar amounts of funding for early-stage startups — $18.5 billion in Europe versus $20.2 billion in the U.S. from 2020 through the first half of 2025 — the gap at the larger end of the market is stark. The U.S closed 29 funds of at least $500 million or more, compared with just 11 in Europe. These larger funds are the ones capable of writing the $25 million to $100 million checks companies desperately need to commercialize and scale. As Douglas’ report notes, fewer than 20% of European climate funds are pursuing a growth strategy, with over 70% making early-stage investments only.
“When we raised World Fund One, we were the largest [debut] climate fund in Europe, and we’re a €300 million fund. That’s nuts,” Douglas told me. World Fund aims to help companies “reach growth-investor readiness” by supporting startups from their seed through Series B, a model Douglas would like to see replicated throughout the region. “We need another 20 World Funds out there in the market to start filling this capital shortfall,” he told me. The firm announced last February that it’s raising a second, €500 million fund, but that’s yet to close.
One of the primary reasons European growth-stage investors have less capital to deploy comes down to the structure of European financial markets, which remain heavily reliant on bank lending rather than higher-risk equity investments. As a result, institutional investors like pension funds, insurers, and endowments never built the habit of investing in venture capital, which shows up when comparing the LP bases across the two regions: In the U.S., about 72% of VC funding comes from private institutional investors, compared with just 30% in Europe. Public money, much of it from the European Investment Fund, helps bridge the gap, but it simply cannot match the scale of private institutions.
Pension funds are a telling case. They’re among the largest sources of venture capital in the U.S., allocating nearly 2% of their assets to VC. But in the EU, they allot just 0.018% — roughly 100 times less. And because the U.S. also has far more money sitting in pension funds than Europe does, this makes the gap in actual dollars reaching startups wider still. Without that deep pool of institutional funding, Europe struggles to support the $500 million- to $1 billion-plus funds that would have the wherewithal to lead growth-stage rounds.
The result is a self-reinforcing cycle. Large growth funds require large institutional backers, but precisely because European pension funds and other institutional investors haven’t stepped up, the venture market remains too small to absorb the kinds of $100 million-plus commitments pension investors managing billions of dollars typically want to make. “They don’t see [venture] as an asset class that they can invest in,” Douglas told me. “But the reason that it doesn’t exist is because they’re not investing themselves in that asset class.”
If there’s one thing I learned from my reporting, it’s that white these problems run deep, Europe is hardly standing still. Policymakers and investors are well aware of the disconnect and are now experimenting with strategies to close the scale-up gap and affirm the region’s position as a leader in climate innovation.
To attract more institutional investment, for example, a growing number of initiatives aim to create “funds of funds” and other government-backed structures that pool money from pension funds, insurers, banks, foundations, and other large investors. The fund-of-funds structure lets an institution make a single, large commitment; then, intermediary asset managers break that capital into smaller chunks and invest it across multiple venture funds. This gives large-ticket investors the scale and diversification they want without requiring them to conduct due diligence on dozens of small venture funds; venture managers, in turn, gain access to much larger pools of capital.
Germany’s Wachstumsfonds Deutschland, for example, is a €1 billion fund-of-funds backed by more than 20 investors — including insurers, pension funds, and large family offices — that invests across the German and broader European VC ecosystem, with a focus on growth-stage capital. The EU’s European Tech Champions Initiative follows a similar model. The European Investment Bank and six member-states launched the initiative in 2023 with €3.9 billion to back regional growth-stage VC funds. Now it’s raising a second tranche of money — targeting €15 billion — and is bringing in private institutional capital for the first time.
Europe’s member states have also pushed institutional investors toward coordinated capital commitments in recent years, with France’s Tibi initiative serving as the model. Launched in 2019, it tasks the French government with vetting venture and growth funds, with those that qualify becoming eligible for backing from initiative’s signatories, primarily insurers and some pension funds. The program has attracted about €31 billion in commitments to date. Germany adopted a similar approach with its WIN initiative, which has now secured €12 billion in pledges from more than 30 major corporations — including Deutsche Bank, BlackRock, and Henkel — to invest in the country’s venture ecosystem by 2030.
The Irish Venture Capital Association has proposed a similar model, while Tibi’s founder — the economist Philippe Tibi himself — has been on a tour essentially pitching the idea across the bloc. But Ioannou isn’t convinced that creating country-specific Tibi-style commitments is the most efficient way for the region to scale climate tech.
“I’m not sure that fragmentation will actually solve the problem,” he told me. “Maybe it will be better if all that capital came into one larger fund, whereby the scale-ups wouldn’t have to deal with country level fragmentation, regulations, jurisdictions, legal, and all that kind of stuff.”
That’s the idea behind the new €5 billion pan-EU Scaleup Europe Fund, which is designed to invest directly in European deep-tech startups — climate tech very much included — rather than through venture funds. Announced last year, the fund has already secured roughly €2.5 billion in capital commitments from both the European Commission and private institutional investors, with a second fundraising round planned for the second half of this year. EQT, Europe’s largest private-markets investor, will manage the funds, ultimately deciding which growth-stage companies to back.
“Everything happened so quickly, from agreeing to it to executing on it to allocating it,” Douglas told me. “In effect, it happened in less than a year, which in the European context is crazy.”
The idea is to replicate what the combination of U.S. federal support and deep private capital markets has accomplished, Dimitri Colin, a policy officer at the cleantech policy and advocacy group Cleantech for Europe, told me. “The whole idea is to bring what worked in the U.S. into European public financing policies,” he said. Colin extolled the virtues of the Biden-era Loan Programs Office, as well as the efficacy of other Inflation Reduction Act-fueled efforts such as generous production tax credits when it comes to derisking investment in first-of-a-kind tech.
In our interview as well as in a recent report, Colin argued that EU funding should move from prioritizing grants to loan and equity guarantees in its forthcoming budget for the years 2028 through 2034. That’s because guarantees have proven far more effective than government grants at bringing private investors into climate tech, Colin told me. According to his report, every euro of grants or equity capital channeled through the VC arm of the European Innovation Council yields about €3 in additional investment. That’s nothing to scoff at, but it pales in comparison with InvestEU, the bloc’s €26.2 billion investment guarantee program. Every euro of guarantees from the latter attracts nearly €14.80 in private follow-on capital.
“The main idea behind the whole budget should be to focus on the leverage effect,” Colin told me, referring to how much additional private funding government backing generates. “How can the little public money that we have in Europe — because the fiscal environment is, of course, very constrained — more easily mobilize private money? That’s what the LPO did well.”
Colin also wants to change the EU’s public funding rules to make it easier to subsidize ongoing operational expenses for early-stage cleantech facilities, similar in effect to U.S. production tax credits. Currently, European policymakers often structure public support for these projects as capex grants paid out after construction is complete. This type of support is more difficult for private investors to underwrite since it doesn’t directly improve the plant’s ongoing operating economics, one of the risks investors care about most.
Getting these financing structures right is a matter of life or death for many of Europe’s most promising climate tech industries. Douglas points to batteries, critical minerals, semiconductors, and green molecules as sectors with the technological readiness to scale domestically — but not yet the capital. “One of the major risks in every sector we know is who’s going to be there, who’s going to be able to go with us on that journey to make sure the company has the capital to be successful,” he told me. Still, he sees reason for optimism. Because if there’s one thing that can be said about the E.U. at this moment, it’s that “they’re definitely taking it seriously.”
“The perfect solution doesn’t exist,” Colin told me. “We need to align the funding models, we need public de-risking tools, but we need also a true industrial strategy, China has done that, the US has done that with the IRA,” he explained. Now it’s Europe’s turn.
Not going to lie, I didn’t see this coming.
Tesla just finished its strongest showing in years. In the second quarter of 2026, the company sold about 480,000 vehicles around the world — well over stock market projections of about 400,000 EVs. Tesla’s sales mark a full 25% year-over-year increase from the second quarter of last year.
If you’re surprised by this news, you’re not alone. Sales of Elon Musk’s EVs had been trending downward over the past few years following a series of self-inflicted wounds. The Cybertruck was a bomb. Tesla appeared to be interested only in building the self-driving cars and autonomous robots of the future, not the electric vehicles of today. Musk’s associations with President Trump and off-putting online politics alienated potential customers everywhere.
Yet here we are. So what happened?
European gas prices, for one thing. Tesla sales actually continued to fall in the U.S., where the electric car market as a whole still hasn’t recovered from tariffs confusion, the loss of federal subsidies, and other chaotic conditions over the past year. Tesla’s rally came instead from China and, interestingly, Europe: Registrations rose 39% in Denmark, 56% in Sweden, and 43% in Portugal and Italy.
It wasn’t so long ago that Musk’s politics had reportedly cratered interest in his cars in those countries. But European gas prices, which are typically much higher than those in the U.S., have also soared because of oil shocks related to the Iran War. EV interest, then, is up — so high that lots of buyers are willing to look past the personality of Tesla’s chief. (It doesn’t hurt that Tesla introduced less-expensive versions of both Model 3 and Model Y, with remarkably cheap leases and loans, to Europe this year to help overcome its struggles there.)
In China, meanwhile, Tesla has had something else up its sleeve to buoy sales. We’ve repeatedly noted the contraction of the company’s EV lineup: With the failure of the Cybertruck as well as the outright cancellation of the older and slow-selling Model S and Model X — the electric cars that pushed Tesla into the mainstream in the 2010s — the brand gets nearly all of its sales (more than 97% in Q2) from just two cars, the Model 3 sedan and Model Y crossover. And there are no signs it has an all-new mass-market car coming soon.
Instead, Tesla cobbled one together by making a new version of an existing car. In China, Musk has been selling the Model Y L, a version of his crossover with its platform stretched out by 6 inches to cram in an extra row of seats. (Tesla has offered a seven-seat version of its ordinary Model Y, but the two little seats in the back had just 25 inches of legroom compared to the 31 inches in this new version.) As a three-row SUV, the longer Model Y lets Tesla compete in a space that it vacated when it killed off the giant, expensive, gullwing-doored Model X. And as of last week, Model Y L is available in the U.S. Tesla hopes the vehicle can lead to a reversal of its sinking fortunes here, where its EV sales shrank by 20% in the second quarter.
Truthfully, the car is a bit of a kluge. Rear seats often require a compromise on comfort and space. In the case of the Model Y L, Jalopnik notes that even with the 6 inches added to the wheelbase, Tesla’s signature sloping roof doesn’t leave much headroom for the occupants of the way-back. Boxier EVs that were built to be three rows to begin with, like the Hyundai Ioniq 9, Kia EV9, and Rivian R1S, are more pleasant for the fifth and sixth passengers. Nevertheless, those who wanted a bigger Tesla at a starting price of around $60,000 can now get one, and that counts.
Model Y L is also a testament to the power of the platform. Yes, building a new vehicle from the ground up would have provided Tesla with a better all-around vehicle than what it got by hacking the Model Y. But the modified Model Y was much faster and cheaper to deliver, providing an entry into a popular segment of the car market just at the moment Tesla needed to right the ship.
Doing more with less, like creating a three-row EV on the platform of your two-row car, looks primed to become a big part of the future of electric vehicles. That’s particularly true when it comes to growing adoption in America, where legacy automakers and startups alike are trying to simplify manufacturing to bring down costs. The solution to get to market for a company like Honda was simply to borrow General Motors’ EV platform and build its first EV on top of it. Rivian has said it has no plans to sell a pickup truck on its new R2 platform the way it has with its original vehicle, but it absolutely could — and arguably should — if market conditions suddenly made such an EV pickup a hot item.