Detroit botched the EV transition. Tesla is making robots now. The US market is ice cold. Can Rivian go the distance?
by Andrew Hawkins; photography by Anthony Tahlier / The Verge
TheThe storm developed quickly over west central Illinois on April 17th, first as a single high-intensity system called a supercell, and then later that evening transforming into a long squall line of thunderstorms. Tucked inside a wall of wind were several smaller, quick-forming tornadoes, one of which landed directly on Rivian’s electric vehicle factory on the outskirts of the college town of Normal. The ferocious storm knocked down one of the walls and tore through the plant’s roof like a can opener peeling back the lid.
Bobby Dean Parker, vice president of manufacturing at Rivian, was at home in Normal when he got the call from someone at the factory. Parker, an affable Southerner, had already experienced his fair share of powerful Midwestern thunderstorms despite only being on the job for six months. But he quickly realized that this one was different. “Hey, it’s not good,” the person on the phone told him. “Oh shit,” Parker thought, before dashing out into the still-stormy night.
Thousands of miles away at an event in Southern California, Rivian CEO RJ Scaringe’s phone suddenly lit up with a flurry of texts. At first, information was scarce. Was anyone hurt? How bad was it? Scaringe was reluctant to send anyone inside to assess the damage without knowing the structural integrity of the building. Then someone sent him a video.
Even in the dark, you can immediately see a giant hole in the factory’s roof. The power is out, so floodlights illuminate the wreckage. Water can be heard rushing in the background; the tornado triggered the plant’s sprinkler system, causing the pits under the assembly line to flood. The concrete floor is also slick with water. The damage appears quite extensive.
Scaringe was stunned; his factory suddenly had what seemed to be its own sunroof.
For Rivian, the tornado couldn’t have hit at a worse time, or in a worse place. Not only did it strike right as the company was poised to roll out its all-important, more affordable R2 vehicle, the storm landed directly on the section of the factory where production for the midsize SUV was set to begin in a matter of days.
Since bursting on the scene eight years ago with a pair of exciting, luxury-priced EVs, Rivian has cultivated an impassioned fan base and earned a lot of goodwill in the industry. And while the company appears to have done many things right in its short history, all of its hopes for the future are currently pinned to the R2 model. These next few months are especially crucial. Rivian needs to ramp up production for the R2, hit all of its targets, and get the vehicle to customers in what is arguably the harshest climate for electric vehicles since the first battery-powered models arrived nearly two decades ago.
Unlike many of the forces currently bearing down on Rivian, threatening its very existence, all the tornado did was blow a hole in its factory. The roof can be repaired, the debris swept away, the pits pumped out. But as for the myriad of existential challenges currently facing Rivian, the fix won’t be so easy.
TheThe first attempts at modern, commercial electric vehicles in the US date back to the ’90s. These were largely compliance cars, built by major automakers to satisfy California’s strict emissions regulations but not intended for wide release. The compliance cars were followed by a string of uninspiring mass-market models like the Nissan Leaf and Chevy Volt, a pair of egg-shaped economy sedans that projected an electrified future that was inoffensive and characterless — a car for people who don’t want to think about cars.
But Tesla took an entirely different approach with its Roadster, followed by the Model S and Model X, which would become the first legitimate and commercially appealing EVs. The S was a luxury sedan, and though it had to convince buyers that the quiet hum of an electric engine was more powerful than the roar of an internal combustion engine, Tesla had smartly targeted a consumer that actually wanted a car that looked like a computer — and would spend a lot of money on it.
Things really got rolling after Tesla released the Model 3 in 2017, and then the Model Y in 2019. Four years later, the Model Y would become the best-selling car in the world, a title it reportedly retained for the next two consecutive years.
EVs were originally thought of as a niche product, something for virtue-signaling bevested Silicon Valley types high on their own supply about “changing the world,” but hardly as a solution for the perils associated with climate change. It wasn’t until Elon Musk started framing Tesla’s mission around accelerating the world’s transition to sustainable energy that EVs came to be viewed as a critical piece of the puzzle. But Tesla’s success was never a foregone conclusion. After all, no new American car company had ever emerged to challenge Detroit’s Big Three (Ford, GM, and Chrysler/Stellantis) in achieving sustained, profitable volume production in nearly a century.
Musk’s unprecedented success kicked off a global race for electrification. Legacy automakers were pushed to pivot their long-term strategies, restructure their production lines, and build ground-up EV platforms to survive. In China, companies like BYD, Nio, Xpeng, and Li Auto quickly adopted Tesla’s EV- and software-first business models. And a new class of EV startups emerged, aiming to copy Musk’s luxury-to-mass-market rollout strategy.
