For years Brussels has presented its climate ambitions as though they were immovable facts of history. A 100% reduction in CO2 emissions from cars by 2035 was not sold as a policy, but as an inevitability, as though combustion engines would quietly bow out of the marketplace on their own accord.
This week, the façade cracked. The heads of Europe’s most powerful carmakers and suppliers admitted bluntly that the target is no longer feasible.
What is striking is not just the admission, but its timing. In less than three weeks’ time, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen will host the same industry leaders in Brussels to discuss what comes next. The fact that this summit is needed at all is itself proof of how detached policymaking in Brussels has become from economic and technological reality.
The European car industry, once the envy of the world, finds itself caught in a pincer movement. On one flank, Chinese firms are flooding global markets with aggressively priced electric vehicles, benefiting from lavish state subsidies and a command economy willing to bet on overcapacity. On the other, Washington has slapped tariffs on European exports, reminding EU leaders of America’s protectionist streak. Between Beijing’s cheap EVs and Washington’s punitive tariffs, Europe’s automotive giants are being asked to shoulder existential change while competing with rivals who enjoy either state backing or tariff shields.
To call the 2035 deadline ambitious was always generous. Even under ideal conditions, replacing the entire European car fleet with electric vehicles in just over a decade would have required unprecedented levels of investment in battery capacity, raw material supply chains, and charging infrastructure. The reality is far messier: Europe has limited access to lithium and rare earths, charging infrastructure lags behind demand, and energy grids across the continent are already under strain. Add to this the consumer side: higher prices for EVs, patchy charging access in rural areas, and deep scepticism in car-dependent countries such as Germany and Poland. The political sell was fragile from the outset.
Yet the Commission pressed ahead with sweeping declarations, bolstered by the rhetorical comfort of “targets” that seemed safely distant. Now, as the industry itself declares the goal unworkable, Brussels faces a dilemma. To water down its headline policy would be a public admission of failure. To insist on the 2035 deadline in spite of industry warnings would risk hollowing out one of Europe’s flagship industries, handing yet more ground to Chinese competitors.
Von der Leyen’s meeting with industry executives in September is being billed as a chance for “frank dialogue.” In truth, it will be a test of political courage. The EU’s climate ambitions were meant to showcase Europe’s moral leadership on the global stage. Instead, they risk exposing its strategic weakness. Unlike the United States, Europe lacks the raw materials and the defence industry-style funding required to build a self-sufficient EV ecosystem. Unlike China, it lacks the ability to direct vast industrial resources by fiat. Europe has chosen the most difficult of all positions: ambitious targets without the means to deliver them.
Critics within Europe have long warned of this outcome. Carmakers such as Volkswagen and BMW have pleaded for transitional policies—greater incentives for hybrid vehicles, more gradual phase-outs, and above all, investment in Europe’s battery and semiconductor industries. Instead, the EU has spent years in circular debates over regulation while falling behind its rivals. The result is that China now controls much of the world’s battery supply chain, while the United States, through its Inflation Reduction Act, has created a domestic subsidy machine to draw in green investment. Europe is left debating how to police emissions while others capture the value chain.
The danger is not abstract. The automotive sector accounts for 6% of EU employment and 7% of its GDP. In Germany, the figure is higher still, and the health of the Mittelstand—the network of medium-sized suppliers that form the backbone of the German economy—depends heavily on car exports. If the 2035 target forces an ill-prepared industry into a cliff-edge transition, the economic and political consequences will be profound.
Brussels faces an unenviable choice: retreat from its climate rhetoric and risk accusations of backtracking, or cling to deadlines that industry itself says cannot be met. Either way, the illusion that grand pronouncements can bend reality has been shattered. The EU may soon discover that lofty targets make fine speeches, but survival in a brutal global marketplace is another matter entirely.
Main Image: By Tomás Freres – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=99723478
