Very well put Steve, I completely agree.
While were kinda on the subject....
These hybrids have got me thinking recently about just what you were saying about a gallon of fuel having a fixed amount of energy. So a hybrid burns fuel in a internal combustion engine producing mechanical energy. Then it converts it to electricity with a generator, then the electricity drives electric motors to produce the mechanical energy to propel the vehicle. Even if you don't factor all the extra weight from the extra equipment, how is that more efficient?
Hybrids are more efficient because they replace the most-fuel-consumptive power demand of the vehicle's total duty cycle -- acceleration -- with electric energy generated for free during braking. Transient loads during acceleration burn an inordinate volume of fuel. You see it in cars that have a computer with a "current fuel economy" read-out. Accelerating in my '97
Chyrsler Sebring (a middling-powered six-cylinder with automatic transmission), fuel efficiency drops into single digits. Cruising on the highway at 70 mph, it ticks off 27 mpg like clockwork.
A hybrid uses energy that used to be wasted as heat in the brakes to generate electric energy, then discharges that energy into the driveline during peak demand. The engine then works at more of a steady state, close to its power and efficiency sweet spot. (I do not, by the way, consider the gas/electric hybrid as we know them today to be anything like a reasonable fuel-efficiency solution. We can do much, much better. But they are what the free market has served up so far.)
The most efficient four-stroke gasoline engines are only about 43% thermally efficient, according to SAE. That means they're radiating 57% of the energy they burn as heat and noise. Efficiency proponents are pushing automakers to engineer systems that use more of that energy to move the vehicle. The auto industry is nowhere close to a point at which we can talk about the minimum amount of energy required to do a unit of work as an excuse not to pursue increased efficiency.
Politics are certainly a thorny construct. I scarcely trust politicians or regulators more than, say, the owners of auto companies or the good will of the faceless majority of car buyers. No markets are free. And even if they were, prices in them would somehow have to account for the cost to society of the products they produce for those markets to be anything other than socio-pathic means to enrichment of the luckiest and most politically astute.
And so we come round again to politics. It seems strange to me that people speak of "politics" and "free markets" as a dichotomy. They operate in tandem, scarcely more than a phone call or joyride on the corporate jet away from each other. They're both broken. What would you expect from powerful organizations run by people. Ambitious people make mistakes and get selfish and irregularly act with great compassion.
I trust neither and do business as sparingly as possible with both politics and free markets. When I want a cheap, consistent hamburger, I go to McDonalds. When I see short-sighted desires of the populace (cheap, big, powerful personal transportation) modifying the political and physical environment in a self-destructive trend, I very carefully consider what regulation might be able to achieve. Politicians and regulators approach their jobs with at least the pretense of public service and we have some (however weak) recourse.
Not so with the people making decisions about products produced. They seldom look forward more than three months, and when they do it is because they're concerned about their retirement funds -- much like the majority of consumers. Both sides of this free market produce infrequent, random acts of compassion and even altruism, as long as they don't cost very much.
It seems rash to leave one thing as important as energy independence or the survival of the human race, possibly both wrapped in the same issue, for the free market to spontaneously nurture. Sounds to me like trusting in the maternal instincts of a wolf pack to raise a baby in the wild.
L