New and worsening climate outcomes when communities stay focused on electric vehicles
Record heat waves are again scorching cities around the world, and despite enthusiasm across sectors around electric vehicles (EVs) as a solution to climate change, their potential to address environmental threats is only lukewarm.
As cities like Tucson implement EV “Master Plans,” most car manufacturers have promised to cut off production of new vehicles with fuel-combustion engines within the next 10-15 years, in favor of electric ones. Billions of dollars of recent federal infrastructure funding is earmarked to build up charging systems for these new vehicles across the country. The stake of electric cars in the market, and in our future mobility options, is growing (albeit mostly for white men with very high incomes).
The world which electric cars stand to inherit is vast–a built and cultural environment made explicitly for the convenience and mobility of the personal vehicle, at the expense of safety and livability for people, animals, and plants.
In July we looked at the broad ramifications of a car-centric transportation system. In addition to environmental degradation wrought by expanding roadway infrastructure, we’re grappling with road deaths and injuries, fragmented communities, impaired physical and mental health, inefficient urban planning, and massive expenditures. And because of the induced demand phenomenon, wider roads don’t actually get us where we need to go any faster. The reality is, when 3 in 4 people are driving to work alone, changing our built environment and transportation systems is undoubtedly uncomfortable. But living with deadly climate change is going to be worse.
There are a suite of environmental threats that EVs fail to address, as well as threats they introduce or exacerbate. These tend to get less attention than the change in fuel source. Adding new cars and new car infrastructure to the existing situation may accelerate environmental collapse where EVs claim to be halting it.
Existing Environmental Threats
EVs cannot lead us out of climate collapse because the problems with the transportation paradigm extend far beyond emissions from gas-powered vehicles. The streets that cars drive on (electric ones included) wreak environmental havoc of their own. Road and highway expansions require a steady source of raw materials and utilize polluting industrial processes. Sediment deposits and debris accumulated during road construction can be carried through roadway runoff and contaminate water sources with heavy metals, oil and other toxic substances.
Once constructed, vast swathes of asphalt contribute to the warming of cities through the heat island effect. Impervious surfaces convey stormwaters at hazardous flash-flood speeds and prohibit rainwater from absorbing into the soil, particularly in desert climates like Southern Arizona’s. The deadly effects of sprawling road systems on animals and ecosystems is well-documented.
And we can only hope that parts of the current fleet of fossil-fuel vehicles set to be abandoned for electric ones by mid-century are recycled instead of heading straight to the trash heap.
Clearly the system ready-made for EVs has myriad problems, but EVs themselves bring novel environmental impacts and negative consequences that don’t get enough attention. EVs don’t directly burn fossil fuels, but what new impacts does mass production bring?
Additional Environmental Costs
Ultimately, EVs require many of the same raw materials and polluting industrial processes as gas-powered vehicles (i.e. steel, aluminum, plastics, and rubber for tires). EVs also require a set of materials including rare earth elements which leave toxic and even radioactive tailings for nearby communities to grapple with. And after the materials have been mined, we have no viable way of disposing of or recycling the lithium-ion batteries and other key parts, potentially leading to more toxic trespass and environmental degradation down the line. Further, these metals are often mined under brutal conditions with disregard for workers and human rights worldwide.
Manufacturing and maintaining EVs come with a steep energy cost. Between energy required for manufacturing and electricity for charging, they are not necessarily an efficient long-term usage of our limited energy supply. Nor can they be called entirely ‘clean’, as much of the energy in the United States’ fragile electrical system continues to be generated from fossil fuels and high-carbon inputs.
In Arizona, where significant portions of energy come from hydropower at key dam sites, climate change and water shortages are threatening the availability of electricity sufficient to power widely-adopted EVs. With both Glen Canyon and Hoover Dams in real risk of failure under deadpool conditions in coming years, an unprecedented increase in the demand for electric power may leave us in another catastrophic conundrum. Tucson Electric Power and other Southwest utility companies are already navigating the threat of blackouts, particularly in the extreme heat of the summer, within an increasingly tight energy market.
More Consumerism Won’t Solve Climate Change
Making use of car-centric infrastructure requires car ownership, an already out-of-reach expense for many people. And though not everyone chooses or can afford to own a car, everyone is already paying for road construction and parking. Expecting folks at all income levels to then buy or replace their current vehicles with more expensive EVs is unjust. EVs as a primary solution perpetuates the fallacy that consumerism can solve climate change.
Historically, Communities of Color have borne the brunt of climate change exacerbated by choices around our transportation system–including pollution and energy shortages. With wealth disparities only increasing in the US, in part because of the historical and unremitting racial income gap, there’s little assurance or evidence that the rollout of EVs will occur equitably. Mandates to include EV infrastructure in new development can hinder construction of desperately needed affordable housing, even as electric cars remain out of reach for most Americans (including those who rent).
Our expansive driving infrastructure is the result of spending and policy decisions at all levels of government, influenced by corporate and commercial interests. In Arizona, we’re talking $4.7 billion in expenditures across 66,968 miles of public roadway in 2020 alone. The country’s car-dependent system and its consequences cannot be attributed to individual or household actions, and it could never be remedied by personal decisions like the purchase of an EV either.
The Future
Luckily, we have many examples of successful adaptations and evolving mobility paradigms.
Planning for density and diverting car traffic from city centers has revitalized some European cities— places desirable for tourism with many active commuters and a variety of transit options. Inexpensive adaptation options can be deployed by municipal governments, and also by neighborhoods and individuals. Tactical urbanism approaches reshape streets to promote safety and mobility for people, while reducing environmental harm.
Fundamental changes can be made at state and federal policy levels to curb US dependence on cars. For one, we could roll back extravagant government subsidies for vehicle infrastructure. Our governments spend roughly $10 to subsidize driving (roads, signals, policing) for every dollar drivers spend to get around (registration, maintenance, fuel). Compare that with the $1.50 governments spend on public transportation for each driving dollar, and one can begin to understand how policy decisions brought us to this state of vehicle dependency. When applied in tandem with pro-mobility urban planning strategies, tax policies that disincentive driving can help fill this gap, and generate new funding streams for public transport.
It’s important to remember that our transportation systems are more malleable than we might give them credit for. Though infrastructure can seem immense and immovable, it is the result of layers of decision-making that can ultimately be designed for us and by us, instead of happening to us. The knowledge and insight that comes with lived experience in a place is invaluable to these conversations; moving through our built environments every day gives an intuitive sense of what works, or could work.
By ensuring that upcoming investments go to useful projects that serve multiple goals, like safety, community connection and climate stability, we can envision a world in which maybe you wouldn't have to own an expensive, polluting machine to earn the right to get around.