Electric vehicles (EVs) seem to be popping up everywhere.
In the first half of 2026, sales of battery-powered EVs nearly tripled, and July’s figures suggest this trend will continue.
However, our cumulative research reveals Australia’s charging network may soon fail to keep up with the booming EV market.
Behind the boom
Over the past six months, sales of battery-powered EVs have surged to represent 23.4% of the new car market, up from 8.4% in January. And this growth is showing no signs of slowing.
Combined data from the Electric Vehicle Council and the Federal Chamber of Automotive Industries shows more than 108,000 new cars hit the road in July, of which more than a fifth were battery-powered EVs.
Major EV manufacturers Tesla and Polestar alone delivered more than four times as many new vehicles in July as they did in the same month last year. BYD, which sells EVs and hybrid cars, is now Australia’s second best-selling brand overall behind Toyota. It upped its new car sales by 70.5% year-on-year.
Until recently, Australia appeared to be a laggard in the uptake of EVs. This is despite a large and growing appetite for home electrification technology, including rooftop solar and home batteries.
This year, EVs seem to have become just as popular. In July, sales of petrol and diesel cars fell sharply as fuel prices climbed. Meanwhile, plug-in hybrid sales surged by 157%. This suggests new segments of the EV market are now opening up and attracting different types of customers.
Retailers and fuel companies are racing to meet this unprecedented demand for EVs with increasingly high-powered chargers.
Coles, in partnership with Evie Networks, is installing 200-kilowatt fast chargers at up to 30 supermarkets in Victoria and Queensland over the next two years.
Ampol has just switched on its first 400-kilowatt chargers as it aims to establish the country’s leading charging network by 2030. BP is building a 24-bay charging hub at Melbourne Airport, adding to the nearly 300 bays it has installed nationally since 2022.
The National Roads and Motorists’ Association is expanding its highway charging network, building 35 new sites in 2025 after receiving nearly A$40 million in federal funding.
Soon, EV fast chargers may be a common sight at places like your local supermarket and servo.
Governments are quick to fund new chargers, but this money often disappears after the ribbon is cut.
Chargefox, Australia’s largest charging network, owns very little of the hardware it relies on. It’s a network of networks, bundling chargers owned by other charging networks, councils, businesses and energy companies into one app. This means EV drivers may struggle to know who is responsible for a flawed or broken charger.
Having one dominant charger operator creates other issues. One study found Chargefox controls 83% of Tasmania’s public chargers and 58% of those in Western Australia. In such a concentrated market, one company’s bad month rapidly becomes a state-wide outage.
In WA, the Royal Automobile Club quietly wound up its decade-old Electric Highway project last year. It established 16 charging locations from Monkey Mia to Esperance, and was one of the first networks of its kind in Australia.
The project is now in the hands of local councils, many of which lack the resources and skills to manage such complex infrastructure. Several councils have decommissioned broken units rather than repair them. Others have pulled out chargers altogether, creating complete gaps in the network.
Other countries are trying to ensure their public charger rollout keeps pace with surging EV demand.
In the United States, federal standards apply only to chargers built with federal funding. Individual states, such as California and Hawaii, require any charger connecting to the grid to meet their own technical standards.
In the United Kingdom, the government mandates that all public rapid chargers have 99% uptime. Uptime is a measure of how often a charger is available and working. But operators are required to self-report their uptime figures, which are rarely tested by government or an independent body.
The European Union has stronger enforcement, requiring charger companies to share their uptime and payment data with authorities.
However, these approaches have failed to close the gap between reported uptime and what drivers actually experience.
A landmark study of San Francisco’s public chargers found only 73% worked when tested, compared to operator claims of 95% to 98% uptime. We observed the same pattern in our recent analysis of chargers funded by the Californian government.
Despite these challenges, most mature EV markets do have some kind of national strategy for EV charging infrastructure, delivered through local means.
We can strengthen Australia’s charging network by:
applying federal minimum operating standards, that currently require 98% uptime for chargers built with taxpayer dollars, to privately funded chargers
linking charger funding to performance rather than just installation, as the US does, so operators are incentivised to maintain reliability
ensuring networks in rural and remote regions are carefully planned and positioned along key highways
requiring charging companies and car manufacturers to disclose data, including how quickly cars charge, how often chargers fail and where, and which sites are charging hotspots to identify potential bottlenecks.
For now, Australia’s charging network is growing fast enough to meet the needs of EV owners. But that could soon change if we keep building new chargers while leaving existing ones to break down or simply disappear.
Scott Dwyer receives funding from the RACE for 2030 Cooperative Research Centre and the Australian Renewable Energy Agency.
Kai Li Lim does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Finally, Australians are being encouraged to swap four wheels for two. Governments are investing in cycling infrastructure, and calls for e-bike subsidies are growing louder.
But our research suggests there’s a missing piece in this puzzle.
Giving people access to an e-bike is important. Building safer cycling infrastructure is fundamental. Yet neither is likely to change travel behaviour on its own. If we want people to leave their cars at home, they also need the skills, confidence and support to ride.
That was the clearest lesson from our study of 42 Western Sydney residents who took part in an eight-week supported e-bike program. The bike opened the door – but it was training, guided rides and social connection that gave people the confidence to walk through it.
For many policymakers, e-bikes appear to offer a promising solution. Unlike conventional bicycles, e-bikes make longer distances, hills and hot weather much easier to manage. They can replace short car trips, connect people to public transport, improve health and reduce transport costs. Around the world, governments have responded with subsidy programs designed to make e-bikes more affordable.
But there is an assumption built into many of these programs: if people have access to an e-bike, they will automatically use it.
Our research suggests that’s not always the case.
Many Australians are interested in cycling but feel intimidated by riding in traffic. Others are uncertain about route planning, road rules or cycling infrastructure. In highly car-dependent places, cycling can feel unfamiliar, risky or at odds with car-related norms. Simply providing technology and infrastructure does not overcome this.
Australia needs safer bike lanes but governments should also view behaviour change programs as transport infrastructure.K/Pexels
Participants received subsidised access to an e-bike for eight weeks. But they also took part in guided rides around their local area and practical education sessions on bike-handling, storage and maintenance. In addition, they were given opportunities to connect with other riders online and face-to-face.
The results were striking.
Participants covered over 3,000 kilometres during the trial. They used e-bikes for commuting, shopping, recreation, volunteering and social activities.
Survey results showed:
75% increased cycling for transport
92% reported greater riding confidence
71% said travel had become more enjoyable.
But the numbers only tell part of the story.
Through in-depth interviews, participants spoke in excited detail about increased independence, improved mental wellbeing, stronger community connections, and greater confidence in engaging with their local environment.
One participant, Florence, said:
The endorphins from riding[ … ]and seeing all these different places that I had either driven past and never really looked at or noticed it was so amazing[ … ]it’s brought me so much joy.
And with each story came a key reflection: although access to the bike and safe cycling infrastructure laid the foundations for change, it was the program’s support that made participants feel confident to sustain it.
Belonging and confidence matter
Participants consistently praised separated cycleways and safer cycling infrastructure. Many were surprised to discover just how much cycling infrastructure already existed in their local area.
Yet they also pointed out something transport planners often overlook.
Travel behaviour is shaped not only by roads, paths and parking facilities, but by beliefs about what feels normal, safe and socially acceptable.
In highly car-dependent places, cycling can feel like stepping outside the norm. Participants often described feeling out of place when they first began riding. Some worried about their skills, while others worried about how family members, motorists or strangers might view them.
Mai, for example, valued the independence the e-bike offered but only felt comfortable riding in a group. Shirley said her family worried about her cycling and were not particularly supportive.
Even confident riders sometimes felt self-conscious when combining cycling with public transport. Ryan told us:
Going on public transport is intimidating with the e-bike because you feel that people[…]will have an issue with it.
These stories highlight challenges rarely captured in transport models. People are not simply making rational decisions about time and cost. They are also responding to fears and cultural assumptions about who belongs on the road.
The program helped normalise cycling. Over time, cycling became less of a risk and more of a routine.
Cycling needs to be a social practice
Countries with high cycling rates did not achieve them through infrastructure alone.
Places such as the Netherlands and Denmarkbroken link combine infrastructure investment with cycling education, social programs and training that begins in childhood. Cycling is supported as a social practice as much as a transport mode.
Australia’s investment in cycling infrastructure remains essential. We need safer bike lanes, secure parking and better integration with public transport. But our findings suggest governments should also view behaviour change programs as transport infrastructure. Education and mentoring are not optional extras.
The lesson from Western Sydney is simple.
Give people a bike and some may ride. Give them a bike, the skills to use it, the confidence to try and a community to support them, and many more will leave the car at home.
Jennifer L. Kent receives funding from the Australian Research Council. She is affiliated with the 30Now advocacy network.
Administration’s plan to scrap drilling-free buffer zone around New Mexico site prompts scrutiny from Unesco
The Trump administration’s push to expand oil and gas extraction across the US is set to bring drilling near cherished natural and cultural sites, raising alarm among conservationists and prompting questions from the UN’s heritage body.
Unesco said it had received information on the administration’s plan to scrap a drilling-free buffer zone around the Chaco Culture national historical park in New Mexico, a world heritage site and one of the most important cultural areas in the US. A Unesco spokesperson said it had procedures regarding “potential threats” to a world heritage property and was awaiting a response from the federal government as to its impact.
Too many animals are regarded as “bugs”. And, if anything is a bug, it is a short step to it becoming a “pest”. Too many of us have a learned fear – it’s not innate – of anything with six legs or antennae.
I’m a big fan of the invertebrates and I love the Guardian’s invertebrate of the year competition because it focuses people’s attention on the little things rather than the typical animal superstars – the pandas, tigers and orangutans. In their diversity and varied ecology, the million-plus invertebrates on our planet often lead far more intricate and interesting lives than large animals with spines, like us. We urgently need to generate a much broader awareness of their beauty and importance. All these small creatures are as integral a part of our ecosystems as the fluffy things that we may want to put on our calendars.
Hundreds of dead birds are now being reported as the lethal H5N1 strain of bird flu begins to spread across Australia. Government reports show the virus is circulating in resident birds.
It was a long time coming. The current outbreak emerged in 2020. By late 2021, it was spreading widely, leaving a widespread trail of devastation among wildlife species across Europe and the Americas. Even as Antarctic birds and mammals began suffering over 2024 and 2025, Australia – and New Zealand – remained free of this viral strain. Until now.
It’s easy to picture bird flu as an unstoppable wave set to decimate Australian birds and mammals. But that’s not set in stone. Overseas evidence shows the first wave tends to be by far the worst. And deaths from the first wave can vary greatly, with many populations and individuals surviving.
That’s good news for some – but it won’t save vulnerable species who may lose a large proportion of their global population. For them, recovery is likely to take decades – if at all.
The first wave is devastating
In 1996, a new highly pathogenic strain of bird flu emerged in poultry in China. Periodic outbreaks forced mass poultry culls and sporadic die-offs in wild birds.
In 2020, a new variant – formally known as H5N1 clade 2.3.4.4b – was detected. Soon, it was sweeping through Europe and North America.
It was immediately clear the virus had become more devastating.
Less dangerous strains of bird flu (termed low pathogenic avian influenza viruses) tend to replicate in a bird’s gastrointestinal tract, while earlier high pathogenic strains tended to replicate in the respiratory tract.
But this new strain could infect both. Not only that, it was able to infect the central nervous system, leading to neurological disease and death.
The strain has evolved many new variants since 2021. These can now infect over 500 wild bird species, of which over 50% had not had infections previously recorded.
Then came reports of fatal infections in mammals, from scavengers such as foxes to herbivores such as deer and marine mammals such as sea lions. Many had never had bird flu before. The virus was even able to infect livestock such as cattle. Human infections are thankfully rare, with no reports of the virus spreading between people so far.
Across western Europe and North America, deaths of breeding-age adult birds were as high as 25–76% in the worst-hit species. Many populations had near-complete breeding failures.
In 2023, it hit South America. Some bird species lost up to 50% of their global population, while marine mammals suffered their first mass deaths. In Argentina, 17,000 elephant seals died in a single colony.
While mass deaths of wildlife made global headlines, little media coverage has focused on what happened next.
Mass deaths don’t seem to strike the same populations year after year, even though the virus is still circulating.
Adult sandwich terns in western Europe died in droves in 2022. But in 2023, mortality rates in adults fell by 96%. That year’s chicks were hit hard, but those hatching in 2024 did far better.
Why? Older, more vulnerable birds all died off in the first wave, and surviving terns gained some immune resistance. Younger birds previously shut out from breeding took advantage of the situation, while chicks benefited from reduced competition for food.
Overall, sandwich tern numbers only fell modestly. Even so, the species is projected to take almost 20 years to recover to its pre-outbreak level.
Not all populations or individuals were affected equally – even in the first wave. Atlantic seabirds breeding in large, dense colonies were hit hard. Gannets, terns and skuas all saw mass deaths. But neighbouring petrels, puffins and shearwaters nesting in burrows had far fewer deaths.
This may give some protection to Australia’s burrowing little penguins. Authorities are also moving to vaccinate thousands of these penguins.
For many species, bird flu is made worse by other threats. In 2024, Adéle penguins in Antarctica had to battle both bird flu and deadly avian cholera, leading to many losses. Similarly, bird flu hit African penguins already in trouble from the collapse of sardine fisheries.
We can’t directly extrapolate from overseas experience. Many Australian birds and mammals are unique. Some, such as black swans, lack crucial immune defences against influenza.
Removal of bird carcasses is one way to slow the spread of the virus. Pictured: workers removing dead birds from a Humboldt penguin reserve in Chile in 2023.Martin Bernetti/Getty
The death toll is not set
Official estimates suggest about 20% of bird and 10% of mammal populations in Australia are at high to extreme risk of population impacts from this strain.
But catastrophic destruction is not guaranteed. Whether a species is hit hard or barely touched will depend on three things: level of exposure to the virus, how well it can resist infection and how well it can cope with being infected.
Before this strain arrived, experts evaluated the risk for all Australian bird and mammal species, developed action plans for important sites and expanded surveillance and diagnostic systems to monitor outbreaks and viral evolution. These measures are globally recognised as the most important tools.
Australia is now following New Zealand in vaccinating captive and closely-managed populations.
Worldwide, no species has suffered 100% losses. That means some individuals likely survived the infection. Generally, animals can cope better with infection if they’re well fed, in a good habitat and aren’t exposed to pollution or stress.
The biggest lever we can pull is tackling these other pressures, from habitat loss and plastic pollution to invasive species.
We have a chance to try relieving these pressures on wildlife to give them more of a fighting chance – but the window is shrinking.
Bethany J Hoye receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
