"Revving Up: The Shocking Truth Behind the Electric Vehicle Craze That's Got Everyone Fooled!"

In the furious race towards electric vehicles, we're risking not just our cherished car industry but also tethering ourselves firmly to China's grip, all while preparing to foot a hefty bill through escalated taxes, all for the sake of merely trimming global emissions by a measly 0.044%. That's why, with unwavering resolve, I declare my intent to snag a brand-spanking new petrol-powered ride right before the 2035 prohibition kicks in.

Europe's zeal for electric vehicle adoption and the looming ban on petrol vehicle sales by 2030 seem like a slow-motion collision course. The technology isn't primed, the costs are astronomical, the logistics are formidable, and the reliance on China is disconcerting, to say the least. And let's not forget the inevitable public outcry looming on the horizon.

But here's the kicker – the touted benefits barely hold water, if at all, and could even be non-existent. Yes, you heard that correctly. It's entirely plausible that even after swapping out all of Europe's trusty rides for electric counterparts, we might find ourselves staring at higher, not lower, carbon dioxide emissions. Cost-benefit analysis, anyone?

Before we dive into the nitty-gritty, let's talk politics. Most electric vehicle batteries hail from China, and its dominance in this market is swelling, thanks to hefty investments in crucial minerals like lithium, coupled with low labor costs and a dirt-cheap, coal-fired power grid. Chinese titan BYD dethroned Tesla as the reigning champion of electric vehicle manufacturing last year and, in a particularly ominous twist, recently inked a pact with Tesla to jointly promote 'core socialist values' while cementing their grip on the market and potentially manipulating prices.

Rapidly transitioning to electric transport inevitably translates to cozying up to Chinese suppliers. Are we genuinely ready to further entangle ourselves with a regime that tramples on freedom in Hong Kong, perpetrates genocide against the Uighurs, flexes muscles threateningly at Taiwan, and conveniently sidesteps accountability regarding the origins of a certain pandemic near its top-tier virus laboratory?

The colossal leap needed to wean ourselves off Chinese dependency within the next seven years demands a hundredfold surge in battery capacity, an endeavor that's neither financially viable nor feasible. To lure battery manufacturers to European shores, despite our stratospheric energy costs (courtesy of massive wind power investments and a steadfast refusal to tap into shale gas), the government finds itself splurging taxpayers’ money hand over fist on battery and car makers.

If America and the European Union are dead set on pouring fortunes into futile attempts to catch up with China, why should we blindly follow suit?

But don’t hold your breath for industry honchos to spill the beans on the sheer implausibility of this transition. Lavishing taxpayer subsidies to strong-arm consumers into adopting new products is their bread and butter, regardless of whether the scheme holds water or not.

In a nod to Gulliver’s Travels, if Rolls-Royce or Tata were tasked with conjuring sunbeams from cucumbers, they’d roll up their sleeves, give it a jolly good go — and only admit defeat after squandering a couple of billion quid of your hard-earned cash.

Which begs the question: why are we hurtling down this road again? We're deliberately snuffing out a thriving European car industry for a trifling gain, all to appease a handful of posh activists and crony capitalists.

There's no groundswell of demand from everyday folks clamoring for this transition. Electric cars still carry a price tag nearly double that of their petrol-powered counterparts.

Moreover, the surge in malfunctioning electric vehicles adds another layer of headache, with government directives mandating their 'quarantine,' thus jacking up costs for mechanics and insurers.

As it stands, an industry hinging on taxpayer subsidies both for production and consumption isn't exactly a model of sustainability.

And let's not gloss over the Herculean task of retrofitting Europe's electricity infrastructure to handle the surging demand wrought by this transition — all without further injections of subsidies.

To power a fully electric fleet, we'd need to nearly double the number of wind farms (along with requisite gas-fired backup) or conjure up an equivalent supply from nuclear energy, a technology that takes eons to materialize.

But even supposing we manage to ramp up electricity supply, distributing it poses a whole new set of challenges. Our current grid is already straining under the weight of demands, with folks struggling to get fast chargers installed due to capacity constraints in the wires and transformers. And that conundrum will only worsen as we divert more capacity to accommodate demand from heat pumps.

Unless the government opens its purse strings yet again to upgrade the network, we're staring down the barrel of five-hour recharge times post-2030, compared to the five-minute pit stops we're accustomed to today.

Andrew Montford of Net Zero Watch lays it out plain: upgrading the distribution grid on such tight timelines is a pipe dream, meaning swathes of the population may find themselves priced out of car ownership altogether.

These are the cold, hard truths behind the veil of transition. But would it even move the needle if we somehow managed it? Let’s crunch some numbers. If the EU miraculously flips the entire car and van fleet to electric by the 2035s, sidelining petrol and diesel in the process, we'd be trimming a paltry 0.044% off global carbon dioxide emissions.

That's right, less than one-half of one-tenth of one percent. You'd probably have a bigger impact on climate by tossing a couple of ice cubes into the Danube each week.

And even that's a best-case scenario. In reality, the impact would likely be even tinier. The notion that swapping petrol for electric yields a 25% emissions cut is, to put it mildly, optimistic — perhaps wildly so. In fact, the switch might even increase emissions.

Here's why: churning out an electric car entails a hefty carbon footprint from various extractive industries, especially when it comes to crafting the battery.

As energy expert Mark Mills explains, producing enough energy to match the storage capacity of a single half-ton EV battery requires excavating about 7,000 pounds of minerals like lithium, graphite, copper, nickel, aluminum, zinc, neodymium, manganese, and the list goes on.

That's a lot of digging, burning both diesel and electricity in the process.

And that's before the electric vehicle even hits the road. Oxford University's Professor of Engineering Science Gautam Kalghatgi crunches the numbers and finds that an electric car with a 60 kWh battery racks up a deficit of 7.5 tons of carbon dioxide-equivalent emissions right out of the gate, before even clocking a single mile.

And let's not kid ourselves – even when they're up and running, electric vehicles aren't exactly 'zero-emission.' Our electric grid is powered by a mix of gas, wind turbines (whose production leans heavily on coal), and even nuclear power, each leaving its own carbon footprint.

Take all that into account, and you're left with a sobering realization: electric cars have a long way to go before they outshine their petrol counterparts in emissions.

But wait, there's more. From a consumer standpoint, the numbers don't quite add up either. A petrol or diesel car with 60,000 miles on the clock still holds some resale value. An electric car on the brink of battery failureis a different story altogether. It's essentially a depreciating asset with an expiration date, rendering it virtually worthless as it nears the end of its battery life. So, drivers are likely to trade them in much sooner. But here's the kicker: second-hand electric car buyers won't benefit from the same upfront subsidies as new car buyers, leading to a flooded market with disillusioned owners ditching their electric vehicles at rock-bottom prices.

The plight of these second-hand electric cars is a cautionary tale, with tales of marital discord over flat batteries en route to family gatherings becoming all too common. As someone residing 300 miles from the nearest metropolis, I'm no stranger to the panic gripping friends as they frantically search for charging stations along their journey.

But hold on a minute – if you're under the impression that electrifying our transport will miraculously cleanse urban air, think again. Recent studies suggest that internal combustion engines are actually getting cleaner at a rapid clip, while electric cars, burdened by their hefty weight, might soon be shedding more particulate pollution from tire wear than their petrol counterparts emit from their exhaust pipes.

Just last week, Toyota boldly claimed that solid-state batteries would revolutionize the electric vehicle landscape by 2027. Yet, this isn't the first time we've heard such promises. The solid-state battery has been perpetually 'just around the corner' for the past 15 years, with even Sir James Dyson losing patience. And even if solid-state batteries do become a reality, ensuring their affordability and reliability will be no small feat.

If Toyota's prophecy holds true, it only strengthens the case for pumping the brakes on the EU's ambitious target, lest we plunge headlong into a premature technology that risks becoming obsolete before its time.

But history tells us that governments have a penchant for championing technologies prematurely for ideological reasons. Case in point: the ill-fated switch from incandescent to compact fluorescent light bulbs in 2007, hailed as a climate change panacea. It lined the pockets of manufacturers while leaving consumers grappling with costly, subpar bulbs that illuminated rooms at a snail's pace, all while posing environmental hazards.

And let's not forget the opportunity cost – the forced adoption of an inferior technology likely delayed the widespread adoption of LED bulbs, which, ironically, required no subsidies or coercion to win over consumers.

Now, fast forward to today, where the projected €3 billion price tag of banning petrol and diesel vehicles by 20305 makes the incandescent bulb debacle look like chump change. Just as I squirreled away incandescent bulbs in 2009, I'll probably opt for a petrol or diesel vehicle right before the ban takes effect.

And mark my words, I won't be alone in this endeavor.  So, brace yourselves – the road ahead won't come cheap.