Author name: 胡思

The assertion that “electric vehicles require extensive mining, leading to greater pollution than gasoline cars” has emerged repeatedly in recent years. While it may sound like a rational inquiry, it does not withstand scrutiny. This statement captures a fragment of truth—electric vehicles do indeed require minerals such as lithium, nickel, and cobalt—but it misrepresents the overall narrative.

To clarify the facts: the pollution associated with electric vehicles primarily occurs during the production phase, particularly in battery manufacturing. Mining, smelting, and processing undeniably generate emissions, a fact that cannot be denied. However, internal combustion engine vehicles are not free from mining either. A gasoline car, from its inception to its disposal, requires substantial amounts of steel, aluminum, and copper, relying on a vast and perpetually operational system: oil exploration, drilling, pipelines, tankers, refineries, and gas station networks. The pollution from these processes is dispersed over time and space, gradually becoming taken for granted.

The real difference lies in the distinction between “one-time” and “ongoing” inputs. This can be elucidated with numbers rather than adjectives.

Take a mid-sized electric vehicle equipped with a 60 kWh LFP (lithium iron phosphate) battery as an example. The battery contains approximately 6 kilograms of lithium, 41 kilograms of iron, and 70 kilograms of phosphate (PO₄). These minerals are extracted in a one-time input before the vehicle is produced, used over a decade, and can subsequently be recycled, rather than requiring continual mining for every kilometer driven.

In contrast, a similarly sized NMC (nickel manganese cobalt) battery, while structurally different, presents a similar scale. Based on current high-nickel formulations, a 60 kWh NMC battery contains about 9 kilograms of lithium, 33 kilograms of nickel, 5 kilograms of cobalt, and approximately 18 kilograms of manganese and other metals such as aluminum and copper. In total, this amounts to “tens of kilograms” of metallic materials, rather than an infinitely expanding demand for minerals.

Applying the same metric to gasoline vehicles reveals a stark imbalance. A gasoline car driven for 150,000 kilometers, with a fuel consumption of 6.3 liters per 100 kilometers, will consume approximately 9,450 liters of gasoline over its lifetime. This gasoline corresponds to the extraction and refining of about 20,000 liters of crude oil, which weighs approximately 17,000 kilograms. This is not a one-time input; rather, it is burned, emitted, and dissipated gradually throughout the vehicle’s lifespan.

Thus, the comparison becomes quite direct:

Electric vehicles are often exaggerated for their one-time input of tens of kilograms of recyclable metals;

Gasoline vehicles, on the other hand, habitually overlook the thousands of kilograms of unrecoverable crude oil consumed throughout their entire lifecycle.

To frame these two within the same context of “which is more polluting” is inherently misguided.

Examining the entire lifecycle, even when accounting for the carbon emissions from mining and manufacturing, electric vehicles in the current power structures of Europe or the UK exhibit lower total emissions after driving several tens of thousands of kilometers compared to their gasoline counterparts; the longer they are driven, the greater the disparity. The reason is simple: the electricity grid is decarbonizing, while the emissions pathway of gasoline vehicles remains fixed, perpetually reliant on the combustion of fossil fuels.

Some argue that it is not just carbon dioxide, but also air and water pollution. While this assertion sounds comprehensive, the conclusion remains the same. The air pollution from internal combustion engine vehicles is immediate, dispersed, and close to populations: nitrogen oxides, volatile organic compounds, and PM₂.₅ are emitted with every kilometer driven on urban streets, directly posing public health risks. Electric vehicles produce no tailpipe emissions while in operation; even if some electricity still derives from fossil fuels, the pollution is concentrated at fixed power plants, which can be regulated and improved, representing a fundamentally different nature.

Water pollution is similarly structured. The extraction of lithium and other battery minerals can indeed exert pressure on local water resources, a reality the electric vehicle industry must confront. However, the water pollution from the oil system is long-term and systemic: oilfield wastewater, pipeline leaks, oil tanker accidents, and refinery emissions. Any significant oil spill can cause damage to oceans and groundwater lasting for decades. This is not an occasional accident, but an inherent risk within the fossil fuel system.

At this point, there is often a follow-up question: “What happens when batteries are discarded?” The reality is clearer than imagined. Current recycling technologies allow for recovery rates of over 90% for metals such as cobalt, nickel, and copper, with lithium recovery rates also reaching between 70% and 90%. The metals can be retained and reused; however, once 17,000 kilograms of crude oil is burned, it is impossible to recover even a gram.

Another frequently overlooked comparison is that we use products containing lithium and various metallic minerals daily. Mobile phones, laptops, tablets, and Bluetooth headphones all contain lithium, nickel, cobalt, and copper, yet few question whether using a phone is environmentally unfriendly. The reason is intuitive: the materials are one-time inputs and can be recycled; the real source of ongoing pollution is the energy consumed daily. This common understanding is uncontroversial in consumer electronics but is suddenly dismissed when it comes to electric vehicles, revealing a double standard.

Moreover, battery technology is still evolving. Sodium-ion batteries, which do not require lithium, nickel, or cobalt, have begun to enter the market and have the potential to replace LFP in certain applications. Looking further ahead, if solid-state batteries can mature, they may gradually replace current NMC technologies. In other words, the dependence of electric vehicles on critical minerals is a declining variable, not a fixed burden.

Of course, electric vehicles are not perfect. They still produce particulate pollution from tire wear and do not address urban structural issues such as traffic congestion. However, these problems also exist with gasoline vehicles, which additionally incur pollution from engines and exhaust systems. Electric vehicles are not a panacea, but they outperform internal combustion engine vehicles on nearly every quantifiable environmental metric.

To magnify “tens of kilograms of recyclable metals” while ignoring the daily combustion of “thousands of kilograms of unrecoverable crude oil” is not a rational comparison; it is a narrative that allows for the comfortable maintenance of the old system. What truly deserves scrutiny is not how many minerals electric vehicles consume, but why we are still willing to accept a transportation method that inevitably continues to burn, emit, and carries the risk of oil spills.

From February 6 to 22, 2026, the Winter Olympics will take place in Milan and Cortina d’Ampezzo, Italy, marking the timely commencement of the 2026 Winter Olympic Games. A few months later, the summer will usher in the World Cup, scheduled from June 11 to July 19, where 48 teams will compete across Canada, the United States, and Mexico. In a world marked by chaos and disorder, these highly institutionalized global spectacles will proceed as planned, for they have long ceased to be driven by passion and have become a matter of routine.

2026 will also be an election year. On November 3, the United States will hold its midterm elections, with all 435 seats in the House of Representatives up for grabs and approximately one-third, or 33 seats, in the Senate needing to be filled. The question of whether the Trump administration will quickly become a lame duck, with its policy space constrained by Congress, hinges not on personal style but on the arithmetic of seats.

In the UK, May will see a significant round of local and devolved government elections. Both the Welsh Parliament and the Scottish Parliament will undergo elections, while several local councils in England, including those in multiple London boroughs, will also hold elections. Although these elections are not at the national level, they directly impact housing, transportation, public services, and local finances, representing the most immediate and pragmatic expression of public sentiment towards daily governance.

In Europe, Hungary will hold parliamentary elections in April, while Sweden’s general election is scheduled for September 13. Italy may also hold a parliamentary election in 2026, although the timing remains uncertain. Whether Viktor Orbán can continue to be the EU’s troublemaker will test not only Hungarian politics but also the entire continent’s tolerance for internal divisions.

In South America, Colombia will hold the first round of its presidential elections on May 31, while Brazil will conduct its elections in October. The economic policies and foreign orientations of these countries are likely to have spillover effects on the international landscape.

In terms of energy transition, the changes in the UK are the most concrete. By 2025, the proportion of low-carbon electricity in the UK is expected to reach around 60%. With several large offshore wind farms set to come online around 2026, this proportion will further increase to approximately 65%. The structural transformation of the electricity system is already locked in, with discussions shifting from direction to speed and supporting measures.

Globally, the momentum for clean energy will continue to rise. The penetration rate of electric vehicles is steadily increasing, and charging infrastructure is gradually being established, leading to long-term suppression of oil demand. Global carbon emissions are likely to peak by 2026 or even earlier; despite potential short-term fluctuations, the overall trend is becoming increasingly clear.

However, this does not equate to good news. Even if emissions peak, the target of limiting global warming to 1.5°C has essentially been abandoned. Under current policies and national commitments, the world is on a path towards 2.0°C or higher. Extreme temperatures, floods, and droughts will continue to set new records, but societal attitudes have shifted—these events are no longer seen as isolated disasters but as long-term risks, prompting a shift in policy focus from denial to adaptation.

The world will not suddenly improve, nor will it collapse overnight; however, many will clearly feel that the choices made over the past decade are beginning to come due.

A decade ago, mainstream discussions on climate change were notably pessimistic. Many models projected global warming to reach 3–4°C, which was considered a reasonable forecast, assuming the world would continue to rely on a high-carbon energy system, with transitions being slow and costly. By 2025, this assumption has clearly begun to waver.

When only accounting for implemented policies, the median estimate for global warming now stands at approximately 2.8°C. While this is certainly not an ideal outcome, it represents a significant downward shift in the risk range compared to ten years ago. This change is not merely rhetorical; it reflects a fundamental rewriting of the trajectory of the energy system itself.

The most evident turning point has occurred in the electricity sector. In 2025, global renewable energy generation is likely to surpass coal power for the first time in total output. While coal power has not disappeared, it no longer dominates new supply, serving primarily as backup during peak demand or emergencies. The rapid expansion of solar and wind energy has reached a pace capable of reshaping the entire system’s focus.

This is not just a story of wealthy nations. An increasing number of developing countries are directly entering the renewable energy era, bypassing the traditional transition path from coal to gas and then to renewables. For these countries, this is not a moral choice but a rational investment. Solar and wind energy can be deployed in a decentralized manner and brought online quickly, without the need for prior investments in heavy assets like refineries, oil storage, or gas pipelines, thus avoiding the burden of stranded assets in a net-zero world. In these regions, energy transition is no longer an expensive environmental policy but rather the cheapest and most flexible development solution.

Turning to the world’s largest emitter, China’s carbon emissions have likely peaked. Recent trends indicate that total emissions are no longer rising in tandem with economic growth, with new energy sources primarily coming from non-fossil origins, and coal’s role shifting to supply security and backup. This suggests that the steepest segment of the global emissions curve is being flattened. This alone has a substantial impact on global climate risk.

Cost is the most significant driver of this transformation. A decade ago, solar and wind energy were heavily reliant on subsidies; by 2025, they have become the cheapest new sources of electricity in most regions. The rapid expansion of battery storage has further enhanced the resilience of the electricity system, rendering the argument of ‘instability’ increasingly untenable.

Changes in the transportation and building sectors have similarly reinforced this trend. Global annual sales of electric vehicles have surpassed 14 million, and in many markets, total ownership costs are now lower than those of fuel-powered vehicles. In Europe and parts of Asia, the annual installation of heat pumps has also increased several times compared to a decade ago. While overall renewal will take time—not due to a lack of direction, but because of the large existing number of vehicles and buildings—the technological choices for new and retrofitted installations have already shifted and are accelerating.

For this reason, the 4°C world that was seriously discussed a decade ago is no longer at the core of mainstream analysis. This is not because the problem has vanished, but because certain high-risk pathways have gradually been closed off by market, technological, and engineering realities.

Of course, challenges remain. Grid construction, storage scale, approval speed, and geopolitical factors could all slow progress. However, unlike in the past, the direction is now clear, and the tools are in place.

What is worthy of reflection and affirmation in 2025 is not that the world is now safe, but that it has demonstrated that energy transition can be faster, cheaper, and more pragmatic. From developed economies to developing countries, low-carbon energy is gradually becoming the default option rather than the exception.