Representative Elissa Slotkin, a Michigan Democrat in a tight race for a Senate seat, has been on the defensive about a manufacturing renaissance happening in her own backyard.

Thanks to incentives that President Joe Biden's administration has championed in the Inflation Reduction Act and other legislation, Michigan alone could see 50,000 or more new jobs by 2030 brought on by the boom in electric vehicles. And yet, in a new ad, Slotkin all but disavows EVs, telling voters, “I live on a dirt road, nowhere near a charging station, so I don’t own an electric car.”

“No one should tell us what to buy, and no one is going to mandate anything,” she says in the ad. “What you drive is your call—no one else’s.” Only in between such assurances does Slotkin allow that if an EV boom is happening, she’d rather those cars be built in Michigan than in China.

Normally, an economic explosion of this magnitude would be the kind of win that any politician would fight for and hinge reelections on. But Slotkin’s party is clearly not winning the information war over electric vehicles. The IRA is spurring General Motors, Ford, Volvo, BMW, and many others to retrofit old car plants and build new battery factories across the U.S., challenging China for control over the technology of the future. Economic stories like Michigan’s are playing out in Georgia, Nevada, North and South Carolina, and Tennessee, too. Yet, according to recent data from the nonprofit advocacy group American EV Jobs Alliance, more than 75 percent of the political messaging about EVs this election cycle has been negative. Donald Trump has been railing against what he and critics falsely call electric-vehicle “mandates” for drivers; Vice President Kamala Harris hasn’t exactly been on camera ripping hard launches in an electric Hummer the way Biden did in 2021. Instead, she too has been reassuring crowds that “I will never tell you what car you have to drive.” Democrats have decided to treat what should have been one of the biggest manufacturing and job wins of the past century as a political liability.

“I think the great, irritating tragedy to all this is the actual story of EVs and auto jobs is a very good one,” says Mike Murphy, a longtime Republican political consultant who co-founded the American EV Jobs Alliance and also runs the EV Politics Project, which is dedicated to pushing Republicans towards EV adoption. His group found that most political messaging about EVs references people being forced to drive electric someday under some kind of “gas car ban” that starts with layoffs now and will ultimately kill the American auto industry. None of that is true; nowhere in the U.S. has “mandates” that every person must drive an electric car. Trump has also repeatedly and misleadingly said that EVs “don’t go far” (their ranges can rival gas vehicles) and are “all going to be made in China” while comically overstating the cost of building electric-vehicle chargers. Somehow, it seems to be working. During this election, the narrative has spun out of control, particularly in Michigan, Murphy told me. Tens of thousands of new manufacturing jobs are coming to Michigan because of EVs, Murphy said. “The problem is that it’s the biggest secret of the campaign.”

The Biden administration did set a goal of increased EV sales—that 50 percent of all new cars sold in 2030 would have zero tailpipe emissions. Functionally, that means developing a robust local battery-manufacturing ecosystem after America and the rest of the world spent decades outsourcing it to China. And the IRA was meant to give carmakers and parts suppliers the teeth to actually do that work. Ample evidence suggests that the act’s plans are working as intended—especially in red and swing states. The Hyundai Motor Group has sped up the opening of Georgia’s biggest-ever economic-development project, its new $7.6 billion EV-making “Metaplant.” Last week, Scout Motors—a classic American brand revived by the Volkswagen Group—unveiled an electric truck and SUV that it aims to manufacture in South Carolina at a new $2 billion factory by 2027. Tennessee is becoming an epicenter for battery-making, thanks to some $15 billion invested for various EV projects. And Kentucky is also seeing billions in job-creating investments from Toyota, Rivian, and other companies as it seeks to become what Governor Andy Beshear has called “the EV capital of the United States.” Cleaner cars, manufactured at home, with battery technology no longer firmly in the hands of a geopolitical adversary—from an electoral perspective, what’s not to like?

Yet Democrats on the campaign trail are reluctant to talk about any of this. And so far, American car buyers simply aren’t as willing to buy EVs as policy makers and automakers hoped. EV sales have risen significantly since the early days of the Biden administration, but they haven’t taken off the way automakers believed they would. GM, for example, once projected 1 million EVs produced by 2025 but will have scored a major victory if it can sell 100,000 by the end of this year. Those slower-than-expected sales, plus the fact that automakers are getting crushed on still-high battery costs, have led several companies to cancel or delay new EV projects. Plenty of Americans have little to no personal exposure to cars outside the gas-powered ones they’ve been driving for a century, and still regard EVs as expensive toys for wealthy people on the coasts.

Democrats have not yet figured out how to square these two realities: American voters might support the jobs that EV manufacturing creates, but they can be fearful of or even hostile toward the product. Instead, the party has ceded rhetorical ground to Trump’s line of attack: that Biden’s (and presumably Harris’s) policies are meant to force Americans to someday buy a car they don’t want, or even “take away your car,” as the Heritage Foundation has put it. “The Republican Party in the Senate race has been pounding, pounding, pounding on the [internal-combustion engine] ban, which is a scary thing that tests pretty well if you want to scare voters, particularly in Michigan,” Murphy said. The GOP’s anti-EV sentiment has been helped along, too, by the fossil-fuel industry’s ad campaigns.

Meanwhile, the CEOs of Ford, General Motors, and the EV start-up Rivian have all expressed dismay about how politicized vehicle propulsion has become. The Tesla CEO Elon Musk doesn’t seem to be much help: Trump has repeatedly said that Musk has never asked him to go easier on EVs, something Musk cheerfully reaffirmed on X. Trump has vowed to repeal Biden’s EV “mandate” on day one of his presidency; whether he can without an act of Congress is the subject of intense speculation in the auto industry. Then again, a Trump sweep could mean he’d get the firepower to do exactly that, by targeting the tax breaks to buy EVs, the incentives to manufacture them, or both. Trump is unlikely to be able to halt a transition happening at car companies all over the world, but he could delay it or put the U.S. further behind the curve.

In theory, no red-state governor or member of Congress should want to give up the jobs that the EV boom is creating. (Trump’s running mate, J. D. Vance, has contended that EV manufacturing will mean job losses for the auto industry overall, even though Honda and LG Energy Solution are committing some $4 billion to its future electric “hub” in Vance’s home state of Ohio.) But the success of this manufacturing boom in Georgia or Michigan does hinge on people actually buying those products. One recent survey by an automotive research group found that a person’s political identity has become less associated with EV acceptance. But Republican rhetoric could reverse that. Murphy pointed to one recent poll his group conducted showing that 62 percent of Michigan respondents said the government’s push to adopt more electric vehicles is a bad thing for the state. Until recently, he told me, he felt that the auto industry’s leaders weren’t spooked by the political push against EVs. Now, he said, “they ought to be.”

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Yesterday, The New York Times reported that people around Donald Trump are trying to figure out how “to quickly install loyalists in major positions without subjecting them to the risk of long-running and intrusive F.B.I. background checks.” Trump’s people, unsurprisingly, are worried about whether they’d pass a background check: As Atlantic contributor Peter Wehner wrote in September, the MAGA-dominated GOP “is a moral freak show, and freak shows attract freaks”—who tend to have a hard time getting security clearances. The first Trump administration was rife with people (including his son-in-law, Jared Kushner) who were walking national-security risks, none worse than Trump himself. A second term, in which Trump would be free of adult supervision, would be even worse.

By the way, elected government leaders (even if they are convicted felons) do not go through background checks or have actual security clearances. Their access to classified information is granted by virtue of the trust placed in them by the voters; the president, as the chief executive, has access at will to information produced by the military, the intelligence community, and other executive-branch organizations.

For many other federal workers, however, security clearances are a necessary component of government service. Over the course of some 35 years, I held relatively ordinary secret and top-secret clearances while in various jobs, including my work for a defense contractor, my time as an adviser to a U.S. senator, and then in my position as a professor at a war college.

All of these, even at the lowest levels, involve allowing the government to do some uncomfortable peeping into your life—your finances, your family, even your romantic attachments. Clearances are meant to mitigate the risk that you will compromise important information, so the goal is to ensure that you aren’t emotionally unstable, or exploitable through blackmail, or vulnerable to offers of money. (Want to get a really thorough investigation? See if you can get cleared for CNDWI, or “Critical nuclear weapons design information.”)

You screw around with this process at your own professional and legal peril. Don’t want to admit that you cheated on your wife? Too bad. After all, if you’ll lie to her and then lie to the government about lying to her, what else will you lie about? Are you a bit too loose at the poker table, or are you a casual drug user but don’t think either is a big deal? That’s not for you to decide: Better fess up anyway. (And of course, you have to promise not to do it anymore.)

Once you have a clearance, you’ll be subjected to refresher courses on how to keep it, and you’ll have to submit to regular reinvestigations. You must also sit through “insider threat” training, during which you are taught how to recognize who among your co-workers might be a security risk—and how to report them. Red flags include not only signs of money issues, emotional problems, or substance abuse but also extreme political views or foreign loyalties.

Which brings me to Elon Musk, who runs SpaceX, America’s private space contractor and an organization presumably full of people with clearances. (I emailed SpaceX to ask how many of its workers have clearances. I have not gotten an answer.) Trump is surrounded by people who shouldn’t be given a clearance to open a checking account, much less set foot in a highly classified environment. But Musk has held a clearance for years, despite ringing the insider-threat bells louder than a percussion maestro hammering a giant glockenspiel.

Leave aside Musk smoking marijuana on Joe Rogan’s show back in 2018, a stunt done with such casual smugness that it would have cost almost anyone else their clearance. (The feds, including the U.S. military, don’t care about state laws about pot; they still demand that clearance holders treat weed as a prohibited substance.) But sharing a joint with bro-king Rogan is nothing. Six years later, The Wall Street Journal reported much more concerning drug use:

The world’s wealthiest person has used LSD, cocaine, ecstasy and psychedelic mushrooms, often at private parties around the world, where attendees sign nondisclosure agreements or give up their phones to enter, according to people who have witnessed his drug use and others with knowledge of it.

An attorney for Musk denied the report, but even the rumor of this kind of drug use would be a five-alarm fire for most holders of a high clearance. But fine, even if the report is true, maybe all it means is that Musk is just a patriotic, if somewhat reckless, pharmaceutical cowboy. It’s not like he’s canoodling with the Russians or anything, is it?

Bad news. Musk (according to another bombshell story from The Wall Street Journal) has reportedly been in touch multiple times with Russian President Vladimir Putin.

The discussions, confirmed by several current and former U.S., European and Russian officials, touch on personal topics, business and geopolitical tensions. At one point, Putin asked the billionaire to avoid activating his Starlink satellite internet service over Taiwan as a favor to Chinese leader Xi Jinping, said two people briefed on the request.

Now, it’s not inherently a problem to have friends in Russia—I had some even when I was a government employee—but if you’re the guy at the desk next to me with access to highly classified technical information, and you’re chewing the fat now and then with the president of Russia, I’m pretty certain I’m required to at least raise an alert about a possible insider threat.

So why hasn’t that kind of report happened? Apparently, it has: Last week, the NASA administrator Bill Nelson said that Musk’s alleged contacts with Russia “should be investigated.” But the United States government seems to think that Musk is too big to fail and too important to fire. As an opinion piece in Government Executive put it this past winter:

In the case of Musk, it is clear the government has decided the benefits of his maintaining eligibility are worth the risks. It’s an easier case to make when you’re creating groundbreaking technology and helping get humans to Mars. It may be a harder case for you to make if your name is Joe and your job is to get a truck to the naval yard … That may seem like a double standard, but that’s if you forget that there is no universal standard.

If Trump is reelected, Musk likely won’t have anything to worry about. But at what point does Musk’s erratic behavior—including allegations of drug use, accusations of some two years of regular discussions with the leader of Russia, and his obvious, intense devotion to one party and its candidate—become too much of a risk for any other U.S. administration to tolerate?

It’s bad enough that Musk could be careless with classified data or expose himself to blackmail; it’s even more unsettling to imagine him undermining American security because of poor judgment, political grudges, and unwise foreign associations. Remember, this is a man who had to pay a $20 million fine for blabbing about taking Tesla private and had to agree to have some of his social-media posts overseen by a Tesla lawyer—and that’s not even close to classified information.

As a former clearance holder, I also worry that indulging Musk (and allowing future Trump appointees to bypass the clearance process) would be a toxic signal to the conscientious public servants who have protected America’s secrets. They have allowed the government to intrude deeply into their personal lives; they have worked to keep their finances tidy; they have avoided the use of prohibited substances and the abuse of legal ones.

If only they were more important; they could get away with almost anything.

Related:

What Elon Musk really wants Elon Musk has reached a new low.

Here are four new stories from The Atlantic:

This is Trump’s message. The truth about polling Why major newspapers won’t endorse Kamala Harris Anne Applebaum: Trump wants you to accept all of this as normal.

Today’s News

Two ballot boxes were set on fire in Oregon and Washington. Hundreds of ballots were burned in Washington, and the police said that they believe the fires were connected. Philadelphia’s district attorney sued Elon Musk and his America PAC for “running an illegal lottery” scheme by promising to pay $1 million a day to registered voters who signed America PAC’s petition defending the First and Second Amendments. The Pentagon announced that if North Korea joins the war in Ukraine, the U.S. will not set any new limits on Ukraine’s use of American-supplied weapons. In an updated estimate, the Pentagon said that roughly 10,000 North Korean troops have entered Russia.

Dispatches

The Wonder Reader: We’ve strayed from the spirit of Halloween, Stephanie Bai writes.

Explore all of our newsletters here.

Evening Read

Illustration by Joanne Imperio / The Atlantic. Source: Pamela Littky / Disney / Hulu.

MomTok Is the Apotheosis of 21st-Century Womanhood

By Sophie Gilbert

If you’re interested in modern beauty standards, the social value of femininity, and the fetishization of mothers in American culture, Hulu’s recent reality show The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives is a rich, chaotic product. I watched the entire series in a couple of days, gasping and Googling, shriveling inwardly every time I caught a glimpse of my haggard self in the mirror compared with these lustrous, bronzed, cosmetically enhanced women. The stars of the show are young wives and mothers in Utah who have become notable in a corner of the internet called MomTok; their online side hustles include performing 20-second group dances and lip-synching to clips from old movies, the financial success of which has helped them eclipse their husbands as earners. As an encapsulation of 21st-century womanhood, it’s almost too on the nose: a discordant jumble of feminist ideals, branded domesticity, and lip filler.

Read the full article.

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Stephanie Bai contributed to this newsletter.

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