• We owned a stunning house in a lovely UK village, and the boys were happy with school and friends.
• We left all of that behind and moved to Argentina, my home country.
• It's been nine months — nine crazy and intense months. We're still adapting, but I'm glad we did it.

Being an immigrant can be hard. This wasn't the case for me.

I didn't have to flee my country because of life-threatening reasons. I chose to leave Argentina to pursue a Master's in Creative Writing in Madrid.

While I was living there, I traveled to London for the weekend and met a nice guy in a pub, whom I married a couple of years later. Not long after, I was pregnant.

We had our first son and lived in London for another two and a half years, until our second son was born. We needed more space and help with the kids, so we moved to Wales, where my in-laws were 20 minutes away and a nursery was around the corner.

I was able to carry on working remotely. My husband left his job in London and found a new position close by. Life went on. We were fine.

In fact, we were more than fine — we had a stunning house in a lovely village, the boys were happy with their school and friends, and although we didn't have our dream jobs, we were able to pay the bills and had a good work-life balance.

That's why I don't think anyone expected us to announce a move to Argentina.

It was a difficult decision, but we were determined

When we broke the news to friends and family, they understandably wondered if we were sure about our decision.

Of course, we weren't. Who on Earth can be sure of such a move? We'd have to sell our dream home and everything in it, find a new home and new school for the kids, and quit our jobs and find a new way of living halfway around the world.

Not to mention, we lived in a first-world country. Argentina is not first world. We'd be throwing everything away to start a new life in an economically unsteady country. We were determined, however.

I wanted to give my sons a chance to make the most of being part of a multicultural family. They had to experience both heritages in the flesh. They deserved to know what living in their mom's country and speaking Spanish was like.

It was an emotional nightmare at first

The kids weren't happy about the move. The eldest literally said, "You're ruining my life." There was no turning back, though.

Preparing for the move meant we were completely swamped with the logistics of estate agents, removal companies, Facebook Marketplace postings, and video calls with schools in Buenos Aires.

The amount of things we collected as years went by was insane, and because the house was big we kept them all: strollers, teddies, high chairs, rocking chairs, bottles, breast pumps, bicycles, scooters, puzzles, keyboards, microphones, blankets, books, you name it. Not to mention the piano and every single piece of furniture.

My husband drove back and forth from the garbage dump so many times, and each time he came back, his face spoke to me: I'm exhausted, this is hard. We gave things away, too.

I remember the tears every time I put baby clothes in a bin bag and every time I dropped something meaningful at a charity shop. What am I doing? Am I crazy? I remember those thoughts, too.

Despite the doubt and hardship, we kept going.

We've been in Argentina for 9 months

Having my husband's support was what really made the move happen. Even though the move seriously affected his career and finances, he went along with it anyway, for which I'm extremely grateful.

In Argentina, there are no more gardens, mountains, or sheep on our way to school.

We now live in an apartment on the outskirts of the city, the boys share a bedroom, and we drive past three different schools on our way to school.

There's traffic, horns, bikes, buses, and lots of people. When we first got here, my youngest would cover his ears. Yes, son, city life is loud.

It's been nine months now — nine crazy and intense months. We're surviving and still adapting.

Things are looking up

My husband and I no longer have corporate jobs. I work as a contractor interviewing candidates for different clients and also make a living out of my podcast and artistic workshops. My husband works a remote job with fewer hours than in London, which gives him more time to do what he loves: engage with the kids.

When I'm a bit sad, I go to my sister's or arrange to see my friends: they know how to make me laugh. My husband has made some friends through football. And the kids are not asking when they'll be going back to the UK as much.

They like their school and the fact that we have a swimming pool in the building. They enjoy hanging out with my siblings and their little cousin and having lunch with their grandma once a week. And they speak Spanish now.

As much as I loved their British accents, I hated that they couldn't roll the "r" or say anything in Spanish apart from "Hola", "cómo estás". Now they can communicate, for real, and that's truly awesome.

We still don't know how long we'll be staying here, but we know it was right to come, no matter the suffering. We may not have a fixed income, but we have a feeling that no one can take away from us. We feel alive.

• Marc Andreessen says the US must lead in AI-era robotics — or risk a flood of Chinese machines.
• Manufacturing has plunged as a proportion of the US economy since the mid-20th century.
• Andreessen called for "alien dreadnought" factories to reindustrialize and fuel future growth.

Marc Andreesen believes America is at a profound turning point — and it can either lead the next industrial revolution powered by AI, or fall behind in a world dominated by "Chinese robots."

In a conversation at the Reagan Library's Economic Forum on Thursday, the billionaire venture capitalist and Andreesen Horowitz cofounder argued that the path to future growth lies not in nostalgia for old factory jobs but in reindustrializing America around next-generation manufacturing, especially in robotics.

"I think there's a plausible argument — which Elon also believes — that robotics is going to be the biggest industry in the history of the planet," Andreesen said, referring to CEO Elon Musk. "It's just going to be gigantic."

"There's going to be billions, tens of billions, hundreds of billions of robots of all shapes, sizes, descriptions running around doing all kinds of things, and those robots need to be designed and built."

But if the US doesn't take the lead, he warned, it risks "living in a world of Chinese robots everywhere."

Manufacturing's long fall

Andreesen's case comes amid a long-term decline in the importance of manufacturing to the American economy.

In 1947, manufacturing made up over 25% of the US GDP. By 2017, it had plunged to under 12%, according to data from the Bureau of Economic Analysis shared by the American Enterprise Institute.

Employment figures are even more stark. Manufacturing accounted for nearly 33% of all US jobs in 1947, but had dropped to about 8% by the end of 2024, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics.

Tariffs have been the Trump administration's preferred solution to this decline, but industry experts and Wall Street have said that won't be enough.

A May report from Wells Fargo estimated that the US needs $2.9 trillion in capital investment to regain 1979 manufacturing job levels, calling it an "uphill battle."

Goldman Sachs analysts echoed that sentiment in June, warning that tariffs can't overcome China's advantages of cheaper labor and government subsidies. Only a surge in technological innovation, they wrote, can reverse the "long-run stagnation" in productivity.

Meanwhile, US manufacturers are struggling to fill the roles already available. In an April 2024 report, the Manufacturing Institute and Deloitte found the US could need 3.8 million new manufacturing workers by 2033, but half of those jobs could remain unfilled due to skill shortages.

Build what's next — or be left behind

Andreesen proposes a different vision: use AI to transform what manufacturing means.

Rather than bringing back low-cost labor, he called for massive investment in "alien dreadnought" factories — hyper-automated factories producing robotics, drones, EVs, and AI-enabled machines that he believes could revitalize rural America and make the US the leader in embodied AI.

"We shouldn't be building manufacturing lines that have people sitting on a rubber mat for 10 hours screwing screws in by hand," he said.

"We should be building what Elon calls alien dreadnought factories," he said.

Elon Musk has repeatedly used the term, including in 2016 and in 2020, to describe his vision for highly automated, roboticized Tesla factories, particularly for Model 3 production.

Andreesen argued that this reinvention would not only reverse decades of deindustrialization but also help solve broader problems, from national security to wage stagnation to the urban-rural divide.

"We have to do we have to do this because it's necessary from a national security standpoint. We have to do it because we need the economic growth. We have to do it because we need an answer for the entire population of the country, not just the cities," he said.

"And we have to do it because if we don't do it, China's going to do it — and we don't want to live in that world."

• The US Army is taking a hard look at what systems and platforms it doesn't need for future conflicts.
• The Army secretary and a top general gave BI some insight into this process.
• The service is undergoing a major transformation initiative after a directive earlier this year.

US Army leaders say Humvees and Robotic Combat Vehicles aren't useful for future fights, but the Infantry Squad Vehicle is.

Ongoing decisions about what stays and what goes are part of a larger transformation initiative that has the Army reviewing its force structure and cutting certain programs it deems no longer necessary for the kinds of wars the US military wants to be ready to fight should worse come to worst.

Secretary of the Army Daniel Driscoll and Gen. James Rainey, the commanding general overseeing Army Futures Command, talked to Business Insider about some of what is getting axed and why.

Driscoll pointed to the Robotic Combat Vehicle, or RCV, program, which launched in 2019 with the goal of integrating autonomous and remotely operated capabilities into the Army's ground systems. Three versions were initially planned — an expendable light variant, a durable medium variant, and a lethal heavy variant designed for combat against an enemy armored vehicle.

But the development of the RCV hit snags. "We know we need autonomy, we know that we need the ability to move things in a way that is not controlled by human beings," Driscoll said.

But the requirements the Army put together for it ended up making it just this "incredibly large, incredibly heavy, incredibly expensive, relatively exquisite tool," he said. By the time the Army went to purchase them, the threats to the RCV, like small, hostile drones, had grown substantially. In Ukraine, slow, heavy, expensive vehicles have been prime targets for cheap exploding drones.

"It might have been there in the beginning and we got it wrong from the very beginning," he said, "but at a minimum, by the time it came due for us actually purchase a lot of these and get them into formations, it just no longer made sense anymore."

He called the move to end the program "a hard decision."

The Humvee, or High Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicle, is also being phased out. "It's 40 years old. It was useful in its time," Rainey said. "If you look at the ubiquitous sensing drones just in Ukraine and Russia, the survivability of a wheeled vehicle is very low."

The Army also recently ended the M10 Booker Mobile Protected Firepower program just before it was set to go into full-rate production and after spending well over a billion dollars on the project. The decision was made in response to ongoing global conflicts "and in support of the strategic objectives outlined in the Army Transformation Initiative," according to a memo issued by Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth earlier this year.

The memo outlined the focal points, timelines, and priorities of the Army going forward, including reducing and restructuring attack helicopter formations and augmenting them with unmanned aircraft, putting thousands of drones into the hands of soldiers, and focusing on the Indo-Pacific theater and China.

The efforts in the directive are estimated to cost around $36 billion over the next five years and represent one of the largest Army overhauls since the end of the Cold War. Army officials have said it's designed to increase lethality and readiness in the service and is focused on the needs of individual warfighters.

In the interview with BI, Driscoll and Rainey identified one platform that represents what it wants more of. "We have a requirements and acquisitions success story with the Infantry Squad Vehicles," Rainey said.

The relatively new M1301 Infantry Squad Vehicle entered service in 2020. Rainey said that the platform was designed well and requirements were useful and thoughtful. "We went fast, but we iterated with soldiers continually through the process. We ended up with a very useful vehicle," he said.

Driscoll said that in conversations with soldiers, the Army learned that they wanted a vehicle to prioritize speed and all-terrain driving over protection.

It speaks to, the service secretary said, the Army "trying to build a menu of offensive and defensive solutions." For some missions, something like the Infantry Squad Vehicle will be more effective. And for others, a heavier, more armored platform could still be valuable and available.

Much of what Driscoll and others say they're focused on comes out of efforts to be smarter and more cost-effective in Army purchases.

"We feel a large enough existential threat, and it is important enough that we can no longer make decisions simply based off where jobs might exist or what private companies may benefit from our decisions," he said. "Instead, we have to optimize for soldier lethality in the fight ahead."

Lethality is a guiding principle for the US Department of Defense under Hegseth and the Trump administration. It was a core objective for the Biden administration and first Trump one, as well as past administrations, though the interpretations were different. Generally, it serves as a subjective measuring stick for DoD programs and projects, the aim being to be able to effectively defeat an enemy.

Right now, that long-standing Pentagon buzzword is the deciding factor for what the Army and other services prioritize.

• My mother-in-law and I connected immediately, but a trip to Morocco recently made us even closer.
• My husband and I bought a house in Italy, and we all went to Morocco to buy accents to decorate.
• She and I enjoyed shopping together and had plenty of deep conversations.

I first met Kathy, the woman who would later become my mother-in-law, on a small island in the Pacific Ocean thousands of miles from where I, she, or her son grew up.

My future husband, Uriah, and I were living on Kaua'i at the time, and he had the brilliant-yet-terrifying idea that we should have both our moms out to visit at the same time so everyone could get to know one another. The week before everyone arrived, I was a jumble of anxiety. I was conscious of Uriah's strong bond with his family and eager to make a good impression.

It turned out that all of my sleepless nights were for naught. Kathy welcomed me into the family with the warmest embrace, both figuratively and literally. She and I clicked immediately, and I couldn't believe how comfortable I felt around her.

A trip to Morocco made our relationship even stronger

It was September 2023 when we first met, and we saw each other again the next month for a few days in Colorado, Uriah's home state. Then, when we got married in Sicily in May the next year, we all spent a week in Sicily together.

Despite having spent a cumulative total of less than three weeks together, we had already established a close rapport. But it wasn't until we traveled together to Morocco this past February that our bond truly solidified.

Uriah and I had just bought a house in Italy, and Kathy traveled with us to Sardinia for the closing. Neither of us had ever owned a house before, and I had the wild idea of flying to Morocco to shop for embroidered bedspreads and other unique accents to make it our own.

I had memories from a trip 10 years earlier of all the gorgeous, colorful textiles and rainbow mosaic lamps casting textured light over the chaotic medina. I sent Kathy a cheap flight I'd found from Milan to Marrakesh and asked if she was up for it. She agreed without hesitation.

When we first stepped out of the taxi in downtown Marrakesh, the teenage daughter of our Airbnb host met us to guide us to our apartment. As I rushed to follow her through the labyrinthine medina, I realized Kathy and Uriah were getting swallowed into the crowd, and I gestured to our host that we should let them catch up.

I felt a touch of trepidation when I saw their nervous faces among the throng of people, and I wondered briefly if I'd made a mistake taking them somewhere that could pose such a sensory overload. I was relieved when we were all safely in our Marrakesh apartment.

Over the next few days, Kathy and I pored over fabrics in stall after stall with endless bolts of silk jacquard, cotton, wool, and tightly-woven berber in every color imaginable. Uriah would lose interest and leave us to our own devices, while we looked at dozens of textures and patterns before choosing our favorites and arranging to have them cut and hemmed.

We open up to each other and have shared beautiful memories

The next week, in Essaouira, we spent more time one-on-one as the 20th place we'd stopped to look at throw pillows proved to be the final straw of Uriah's house-shopping patience.

Leaning back on cushions in a café overlooking the ocean, we spoke not as mother- and daughter-in-law with all the fraught, implied complications those relationships often hold, but as two women sharing stories of love, loss, and heartache. Uriah would find us sometimes, swept up in these discussions, and groan, "Are you two crying again?"

Somewhere in the magic of Morocco, between a crowded medina in Marrakesh and a crimson sunset over a beach in Essaoira, Kathy and I shared experiences that were ours alone. We packed them with us like souvenirs when we flew our separate ways, but the memories we'd woven together were in patterns far more intricate and colorful than the textiles we chose. Like the postcards Kathy always buys but doesn't send because they're too beautiful, we'd keep them with us always.

• Some boomers want to pass down an early inheritance to help their millennials kids.
• However many struggle due to financial uncertainty and taboos about money, financial planners said.
• The planners said families should have open conversations and get their own finances in order.

Two financial phenomena are happening at once: Millennials are increasingly putting off having kids, or having fewer than they'd prefer, due to financial reasons. At the same time, boomers are expected to pass down the greatest wealth transfer in history.

So what happens when millennials get an inheritance after it's too late to really change their lives' trajectory?

"There are people right now who are just not having families because they worry about the money, and then someday they're going to be 55 and inherit a shitload of money from their parents. The time to have a family will be over, and they'll be wildly rich," Adam Harding, a financial planner based in Arizona, told Business Insider, calling it a "sad development" but not a surprising one.

Boomers have increasingly expressed interest in passing down an earlier inheritance to their children. Several who have done it previously told BI that they felt their adult kids could use the money now, while they are still in the earlier phases of building a family and career. Others are open to the idea but may not know how to start or if they're in a financial position to do so, and their adult children are too afraid to ask.

A Senior Living survey published in February that included over 2,400 American adults found that 70% of parents expected to leave an inheritance to their children when they die. Of that group, 76% indicated they'd be open to considering passing down that inheritance early. Despite the interest in passing on wealth prior to their death, only 8% of respondents said they had actually done it. Meanwhile, only 4% of adults said they had asked their parents for early inheritance.

Financial planner Stoy Hall told BI many Americans who would like to pass on wealth just aren't sure if they can actually afford to do it. They're trying to make sure they have enough to live on without knowing what their future costs might be, while also trying to figure out what they can pass down.

Compounding the problem, he said, is that "we don't talk about money enough in America." Because talking about money is so taboo, he said parents and their adult children struggle to understand how the other is doing financially and what their needs look like.

"Most kids don't know how much their parents do have or don't have," he said, adding that "makes it harder."

Harding said part of the reason baby boomers are hesitant to part with their wealth is that for much of the generation, it did not come quickly to them but was saved over a lifetime. They were also raised by Depression-era, cost-conscious parents.

"They grew up prudent and they got rich a little bit at a time," he said. "They're just so accustomed to always seeing the number get bigger that they feel uncomfortable seeing it go the other direction."

For boomers who want to help their kids but struggle to part with their wealth, he said getting a clear hold on their finances can help. A third party, like a financial planner, can help assess how much they're able to give, even factoring in the potential costs of assisted living and other expenses.

Adult kids need to get their own finances in order first

Harding agrees that families need to have more open conversations to address these discrepancies between what parents have and what their adult kids need. But in addition to the parents, their children need to understand their finances as well.

He said it's a lot easier for someone to ask for help from their parents if they've got their own finances in order, as opposed to someone who's a spendthrift.

"Get your own house in order without having received help first," he said.

That doesn't necessarily mean getting your student loans or mortgage fully paid off, but rather demonstrating that you have a plan for paying them off, a plan for saving, and specific financial goals that you are actively working toward.

What the boomers don't want to do, he said, is gift $20,000 just so their adult kid can go to Europe a few times a year. Instead, they should have a detailed financial plan that lays out how much they are trying to save and for what purpose, whether it's to own a home or afford to have another baby.

While parting with wealth can be psychologically challenging, Harding recommends parents think about why they have focused on accumulating wealth in the first place. For many of his clients, the reason is to provide for their family, so why not provide when the money will do the most good?

And even from a selfish standpoint, he said, giving early so you can have another grandchild seems like a pretty good way to spend your money.

Do you have a story to share about passing down or inheriting wealth? Contact this reporter at [email protected].

• Nike is trying to regain dominance with a new CEO, strategies, and sports-focused initiatives.
• Collectors and analysts emphasized the importance of using exclusivity to boost Nike's appeal.
• Nike's partnerships with athletes and innovation are keys to its comeback efforts.

Nike's biggest fans have some tips for the retail giant.

The sportswear brand is on a journey to regain its footwear dominance.

Although its $46 billion in annual sales are ahead of smaller competitors like On Running, longtime rival brands like Adidas are nipping at its heels when it comes to mindshare.

Nike's sales fell 10% during its last fiscal year. In October, as growth was stalling, the company brought on a new CEO, Elliott Hill, to get the business back on track. He's been slashing promotions, prioritizing wholesale relationships with major retailers, and putting sports back at the brand's forefront.

Many avid shoe collectors, sometimes called sneakerheads, have followed the brand through its ups and downs over the years. Business Insider spoke with two loyal customers and an analyst who follows the company closely. They had mixed perspectives on the Nike of 2025.

Here's what people who know Nike well have to say about the wins and losses of its comeback efforts.

Nike needs to get better at knowing what to stock and when

Lamar Stewart, a 32-year-old collector who estimates he owns over 100 pairs of shoes, said his love of Nike goes back to his teenage years. Lately, though, he's found some of the brand's drops underwhelming.

Part of the problem is Nike's inventory strategy, including knowing when to limit or increase the quantity of a sneaker. Take the classic University of North Carolina Jordan 1 that Nike reimagined and released in May, Stewart said. Though he and other sneakerheads he knew were hyped for the famous blue and white shoe drop, the company released so many that Stewart saw them "sitting on shelves" in stores and online.

"When they have a lot of stock, people aren't feeding into it," Stewart said.

It's an issue Nike is addressing behind the scenes. Hill, the former president of consumer and marketplace who returned to the company as CEO, is helping Nike lessen its reliance on retro styles, such as Air Force Ones, Nike Dunks, and Air Jordan 1s. Nike has been collaborating with some of the WNBA's biggest stars on new styles and reviving its focus on running, for example.

Some analysts are optimistic that Hill can help manage this "tug-of-war between scarcity and distribution," BMO Capital Markets analyst Simeon Siegel said.

Exclusivity is necessary

Nike did better anticipating demand with the Neon Air Max 95. It's "one of the most legendary Air Maxes," Stewart said, and collectors went crazy for the April release.

Stewart said the drop drummed up feelings of the old days for sneaker collectors like himself, recalling the excitement of waking up early to stand in line for a coveted shoe. It may have been frustrating for those who couldn't get their hands on them, but complaints about not enough shoes are good for the apparel giant. It's better to leave customers wanting more.

Hill said during Nike's earnings presentation last week that the company saw promising results in the fourth quarter with "reintroducing the Air Max 95 to a new generation."

Siegel said creating exclusivity is key to appeasing sneakerheads. Recreational shoe collectors want what their peers can't easily get their hands on. That's part of why the company mixes in drops exclusive to its SNKRS app.

"Nike needs to have many shoes that are hard to get," Siegel said.

Innovation is tricky

Innovation is also critical to Nike's efforts to move beyond its retro styles.

Shu Cheng sells many Nike styles at .IMAGE, the New York City sneaker consignment store he cofounded.

He said he does his best to educate Jordan-obsessed customers about Nike's new technologies, like the Nike x Hyperice Hyperboot, which heats up and massages ankles. His shoppers are more interested in retro styles, though.

"We want to give our customers Nike's innovation, but they're not coming in and asking for it," Cheng told BI.

Still, some of Nike's more innovative shoes have sold well. WNBA star A'ja Wilson's A'One sneaker sold out in under five minutes in May's online release. The A'One was made with Nike's cushioning technology called Cushlon ST2 foam.

"I think where Nike went wrong in recent years was losing focus on what has made the company great for so many years, which is innovating and designing really cool products and telling marketing stories that gets the consumer excited about those products," Jim Duffy, a Nike analyst for Stifel Institutional, previously told Business Insider.

Such innovation comes from putting their "ear to the streets" and listening to consumers, Stewart said. Smaller rivals are flourishing by "giving the people what they want," he said.

Running brand Hoka, for example, has been a leader in the ultra-cushioned shoe trend among athletes. To catch up, BMO analysts suggested Nike take a leaf out of its old playbook and be a "fast copier" of what's working for Hoka.

Nike, which released its cushioned Vomero 18 running shoes in February, is already following the trend.

What's next for Nike

Nike's renewed sports-first approach is smart, Cheng said. Instead of focusing on celebrities — like competitors Puma and On have done with Rihanna and Zendaya — collaborating with athletes leans into Nike's image as a sportswear brand.

However, there's no denying the connection that sports style has with streetwear. The Air Jordan 1 started off as a basketball shoe and grew into a cultural phenomenon and its own brand under Nike Inc. The sportswear company is no stranger to partnering with luxury brands and A-listers like Jacquemus or Travis Scott, either.

Nike is cooking up a unique collaboration with Kim Kardashian's Skims. The launch was recently delayed but is expected to be released in 2025, analysts said. Cheng said it's a good play to continue attracting female customers — something he said is missing from his shop.

"We used to sell a lot smaller sizes, and now less and less females come in," Cheng said. "It might bring back that customer base."

Winning over women is another brick laid in the groundwork of Nike's journey back to the top. Its first Super Bowl commercial in decades starred female athletes, and it's the popularity of the WNBA.

"Nike, the business, still dwarfs the competition," Siegel wrote in an analyst note.

• Slate Auto has quietly removed the "under $20,000" expected price tag for its electric pickup truck.
• Trump's huge tax bill is set to scrap federal EV incentives, which Slate had hoped to qualify for.
• Slate's website now says it expects its modular pickup to be priced in the "mid-twenties."

Slate's plan to sell its no-frills electric pickup for under $20,000 appears to have hit a speed bump.

The Jeff Bezos-backed EV startup previously said its modular Slate truck was expected to start at under $20,000 after federal incentives, but has now changed its website to say the electric truck will be priced in the "mid-twenties."

Slate's website featured the "under $20,000" expected price as recently as Wednesday, according to Internet Archive screenshots viewed by Business Insider. TechCrunch first reported the change.

It comes as the US House of Representatives passed a final version of President Donald Trump's "Big Beautiful Bill," which is expected to kill the $7,500 tax credit for new US-built electric cars from September.

When it unveiled the utilitarian truck in April, Slate said it would cost $25,000. However, the company had been banking on federal incentives, such as the $7,500 discount, to push the price of its first EV under the $20,000 mark.

The company did not respond to a request for comment from BI, sent outside normal working hours.

A lack of affordable options has hampered EV adoption in the US, and Slate Auto's CEO previously told BI the company aimed to help fill that gap.

The startup made a big splash with its first vehicle, with the back-to-basics pickup truck amassing 100,000 refundable reservations in its first three weeks on sale.

Although the base version of the truck, which is set to be built in Indiana with deliveries beginning in 2026, will lack frills such as screens, radios, or power windows, Slate says it will be heavily customizable.

Buyers will be able to buy over 100 accessories, ranging from personalized wraps to an "SUV kit" that transforms the Slate truck into a five-person people carrier.

The average price of an EV in the US is already almost $10,000 more expensive than its combustion-engine equivalent, and experts have warned that the scrapping of the $7,500 tax credit will make electric cars even more unaffordable.

A report by Harvard University's Salata Institute in March found that removing the tax credit would result in a 15% hit to expected EV sales by 2030, and 20 million metric tons extra of CO2 emissions over the same time period.