European leaders have spent years arguing over whether to ban new petrol and diesel cars from 2035, but the most revealing intervention has just come from inside the car industry itself. Volvo’s chief executive has effectively admitted that without hard deadlines, legacy automakers would drag their feet on electrification, even as Chinese rivals surge ahead. I see that as a rare moment of candour that exposes how much of the debate over 2035 is really about industrial survival, not consumer choice.
Volvo’s blunt message: without a ban, the transition stalls
When a chief executive tells politicians that strict rules are the only way to make his own industry change, it cuts through years of lobbying spin. Volvo’s CEO has made exactly that case, arguing that binding phaseout dates for petrol and diesel are not a political whim but a practical tool to force investment decisions that many incumbents would otherwise delay. In plain language, he has said that if these rules were not mandatory, the shift away from combustion engines simply would not happen at the speed climate targets require.
That argument lands differently coming from a company that still sells petrol and diesel models but has publicly committed to going fully electric. By spelling out that the sector responds to clear regulation rather than vague aspirations, the Volvo boss has effectively acknowledged that voluntary pledges are not enough. His comments, reported alongside similar warnings from Polestar, underline that the real risk is not moving too fast on bans but moving too slowly while competitors in China and elsewhere race ahead.
Why 2035 became the political fault line
The year 2035 has turned into a symbolic line in the sand for Europe’s climate and industrial policy. Lawmakers chose that date to end sales of new internal combustion cars because it roughly matches the lifespan of vehicles already on the road and aligns with mid‑century net zero goals. For carmakers, it is also just close enough to force immediate planning, yet far enough away that they can still argue for “flexibility” if they have not fully committed to electrification.
In practice, 2035 is less about a single calendar year and more about setting a direction that shapes every product decision from now on. Once governments fix that endpoint, companies must decide which platforms, factories and supply chains they are willing to bet on. The political fight over whether to soften or delay the ban is therefore a fight over whether Europe locks in a clean‑tech trajectory or leaves the door open for another decade of petrol and diesel development that could quickly become stranded.
China’s EV surge and the fear behind Europe’s hesitation
Behind the European arguments over 2035 sits a simple reality: China has already treated electric vehicles as a strategic industry and is now exporting that advantage. Chinese brands are flooding global markets with competitively priced EVs, backed by domestic battery giants and a state that has spent years aligning policy, infrastructure and finance. For European manufacturers that spent decades perfecting internal combustion engines, this is an uncomfortable reversal of roles.
Volvo’s leadership has been unusually explicit about this pressure. Håkan Samuelsson, identified as the chief executive of Volvo, has warned that “the Chinese will not pause,” stressing that Beijing’s industrial machine will keep pushing electric technology regardless of what Brussels decides. In his view, there is “no logic” to rolling back the 2035 petrol and diesel phaseout when rivals are accelerating, a point that has been highlighted in reporting on how Volvo and Polestar bosses are urging the European Union to hold the line. That framing turns the ban from a climate gesture into a defensive wall against being outcompeted by Chinese EV makers.
From quiet lobbying to public pressure on Brussels
For years, carmakers preferred to shape regulation behind closed doors, but the tone has shifted as the 2035 deadline hardens. Volvo and Polestar have moved from private conversations to public campaigns, openly calling on the European Union to resist efforts by some member states to dilute the rules. That shift reflects a calculation that regulatory certainty now benefits companies that have already committed to electrification, and that wavering would reward slower rivals.
Earlier, Volvo joined a broader group of industrial players pushing Brussels to stick with the original plan for a full phaseout of new internal combustion engine cars. Reporting on that effort notes that Fifty companies lined up behind the 2035 ICE ban, arguing that constant political uncertainty undermines investment in batteries, charging networks and clean manufacturing. By stepping into that coalition, Volvo signalled that it sees more risk in a muddled compromise than in a firm end date for petrol and diesel.
The industrial logic behind Volvo’s stance
Volvo’s argument is not just ideological, it is rooted in the hard economics of carmaking. Developing a new internal combustion platform is a decade‑long, multibillion‑euro commitment, and every euro spent on refining petrol engines is a euro not spent on batteries, software and electric drivetrains. A clear 2035 cutoff gives executives a defensible reason to stop pouring capital into combustion projects and to explain to shareholders why the pivot to EVs must accelerate.
By publicly backing the ban, Volvo is also trying to level the playing field. If all manufacturers face the same deadline, then no one can gain a short‑term advantage by clinging to combustion while others shoulder the cost of building out electric capacity. The company’s decision to align with Volvo and Polestar advocacy for the 2035 Gas Car Ban reflects a belief that long‑term competitiveness depends on going all‑in on electrification rather than hedging bets.
What “saying the quiet part out loud” really means here
When I describe the Volvo CEO as having said the quiet part out loud, I am pointing to a truth that many in the industry have long understood but rarely admit in public. Carmakers respond to hard rules, not gentle nudges, and they often use consumer demand as a shield to justify their own reluctance to change. By acknowledging that mandatory bans are necessary to force the transition, Volvo’s leadership has stripped away that excuse and put the responsibility squarely on corporate strategy.
That admission also exposes a tension in how the sector talks about innovation. Executives like to present electrification as a bold, voluntary leap into the future, yet the same companies lobby intensely to water down the very regulations that would lock in that future. Volvo’s stance breaks from that pattern by effectively conceding that without a firm 2035 line, the temptation to keep selling profitable petrol and diesel models would be too strong, even if it undermines climate goals and long‑term competitiveness.
How other automakers are likely to read Volvo’s move
Volvo’s public embrace of the 2035 ban puts pressure on peers that have been more cautious. Companies that still rely heavily on high‑margin combustion SUVs and performance models now face a competitor arguing that clinging to those profits is short‑sighted. In boardrooms across Europe, executives will be weighing whether to join the call for regulatory certainty or continue to push for loopholes that keep internal combustion alive a little longer.
Some manufacturers may quietly welcome Volvo’s intervention even if they do not say so openly. A firm deadline gives them cover to make unpopular decisions, from closing engine plants to cancelling new petrol platforms, while blaming Brussels rather than their own leadership. Others, particularly those with less progress on EVs, may see Volvo’s stance as an attempt to lock in an advantage by freezing the rules around a timeline it feels ready to meet.
What this means for drivers and the cars they will actually buy
For drivers, the debate over 2035 can feel abstract, but it is already shaping the showroom. As manufacturers retool for an all‑electric future, they are rolling out more battery‑powered models in every segment, from compact city cars to large family SUVs. The clearer the regulatory horizon, the more confident they can be in scaling up production, which in turn helps bring down prices and expand choice.
Volvo’s push for a firm ban suggests that by the time 2035 arrives, petrol and diesel will already be niche products in Europe rather than mainstream options. The company is betting that customers will adapt quickly once charging infrastructure and model availability catch up, and that clinging to combustion would leave them driving outdated technology. In that sense, the CEO’s blunt comments are not just a message to politicians, but a signal to consumers that the age of the gas car is entering its final chapter.
The stakes for Europe’s climate credibility and industrial future
Europe has built much of its climate credibility on the promise of cleaning up road transport, one of the continent’s largest sources of emissions. Backtracking on the 2035 phaseout would send a signal that even relatively wealthy, technologically advanced regions are unwilling to follow through on their own targets. That would weaken global pressure on other major emitters and could slow the broader transition to cleaner mobility.
At the same time, the 2035 decision is a test of Europe’s industrial strategy. If the bloc holds firm, companies like Volvo that have aligned their business models with electrification will have a chance to compete head‑on with Chinese and American rivals in a rapidly growing EV market. If it blinks, the risk is that Europe ends up with the worst of both worlds: a delayed transition that misses climate goals and a weakened auto sector that has failed to keep pace with global leaders in electric technology.
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