Imagining the Obstacles Away
To understand what we’re building toward, it helps to imagine a future where every barrier has been eliminated. Not the compromises and workarounds of the transition period, but the end state – the version that makes people wonder why it was ever done any other way.
This is that future.
Morning in Wasagamack
Sarah checks her phone before heading out: -28°C, wind chill making it feel like -38°. The kind of February morning that used to mean hoping the truck would start, that the block heater had done its job, that there was enough gas to idle while it warmed up.
She doesn’t think about any of that anymore.
Her EV has been plugged in overnight at the charger beside her house – not her charger, exactly, but the community charger installed on the utility pole at the edge of her lot, one of dozens scattered throughout the reserve. The vehicle’s battery is warm, preconditioned by the charging system. The cabin is already heated – she triggered it from her phone while finishing breakfast. When she unplugs and gets in, the truck is ready: warm, fully charged, showing 340 km of range.
She doesn’t check an app to see her charging session. There is no app. She didn’t pay for the overnight charge. There is no payment. The electricity came from the community’s solar-and-storage microgrid, generated and stored locally, distributed to community members as a basic service. Like water from the community system. Like the roads the band council maintains. Infrastructure.
The plug releases when she presses the button on the handle. No frozen mechanism – the connector is heated, designed for northern conditions. No card to tap, no screen to navigate, no account to log into. Just unplug and drive.
She heads to the health centre for her shift. When she arrives, she pulls into a parking spot and plugs in. Again: no app, no payment, no authentication. The charger recognizes her vehicle automatically – “Plug and Charge”, the standard adopted years ago – and logs the session to the community system. If she were a visitor from outside the community, the system would recognize that too and handle it seamlessly: a small fee charged to the visitor’s account, set up once when they first registered their vehicle and never thought about again.
Sarah won’t think about the charger again until her shift ends. It will deliver energy at whatever rate the vehicle requests, coordinated with the health centre’s solar generation and battery storage, optimized by the community’s energy management system to minimize costs and maximize local renewable use. If the grid needs flexibility, her vehicle might pause charging briefly or even send a few kilowatt-hours back – but that’s invisible to her, just the system doing its job.
Eight hours later, she unplugs and drives to the arena for her daughter’s hockey practice. Plugs in at the arena. Same experience: no app, no payment, no friction. Two hours later, she drives home with more charge than she needs for the next day.
At no point did she “go charging.” At no point did she wait. At no point did she interact with a screen, enter a password, download an update, troubleshoot an error, call customer service, dispute a charge, or wonder whether the charger would work. Charging was simply there, like electricity in a wall outlet, like cellular service, like running water.
This is everywhere charging. This is what frictionless means.
The Friction We Eliminated
To understand the future, inventory the present. Here’s what early EV adopters – the pioneers posting on forums and Reddit threads, the patient enthusiasts troubleshooting at broken stations – had to endure:
The app problem. Every charging network had its own app. Some chargers required the app to initiate a session; others accepted credit cards but only some credit cards; others required RFID cards ordered weeks in advance. A driver traveling across the country might need a dozen apps, a dozen accounts, a dozen passwords. Each app wanted location permissions, notifications, access to contacts (for some reason). Updates broke functionality. Logins expired. The app showed the charger as available; the charger was actually broken.
Eliminated. There are no apps. Plug and Charge – the ISO 15118 standard – handles authentication and payment automatically, vehicle-to-charger, cryptographically secured. The vehicle knows who owns it. The charger knows how to bill. The transaction is invisible. For community chargers serving community members, there’s often no transaction at all – just infrastructure serving residents.
The payment problem. Credit card readers that didn’t work in the cold. Contactless payments that timed out. Receipts that never arrived. Mysterious charges appearing days later, or twice, or not at all. Disputes with charging networks that took weeks to resolve, then more weeks to see the credit. Subscription models that made sense if you charged at that network constantly and made no sense otherwise. Roaming agreements that sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t.
Eliminated. Payment, where it exists, is invisible. Visitors to a community pay a simple, transparent per-kWh rate that appears on their monthly statement – one line item, like a utility bill, regardless of how many sessions or locations. Community members don’t pay per-session at all; energy costs are built into the community’s overall energy economics, amortized across all users, often offset entirely by local generation.
The availability problem. Chargers shown as available on the app, but occupied when you arrive. Chargers blocked by ICE vehicles. Chargers with 45-minute time limits, or 4-hour limits, or no limits leading to all-day camping. Chargers reserved for customers of a specific business. Chargers technically public but located in gated parking structures with complex access requirements.
Eliminated. In a community with everywhere charging, availability isn’t a problem because there’s no scarcity. When chargers are as common as parking spaces – when every parking space has a charger – the idea of “finding a charger” becomes as quaint as “finding an electrical outlet.” You park; there’s a plug; you use it. If one spot is occupied, the next one isn’t.
The reliability problem. Screens that displayed errors. Connectors that wouldn’t release. Payment systems that were down. Chargers that showed as working on the app but had been broken for weeks. Chargers that started a session but delivered no power. Chargers that delivered power but didn’t stop when the vehicle was full, running up the bill. Chargers vandalized, neglected, forgotten by network operators more interested in deploying new stations than maintaining existing ones.
Eliminated. Community-owned infrastructure is maintained by people who live there and use it. When a charger breaks, someone notices – not because an app sends an alert, but because it’s their neighbor’s parking spot, or their own. Maintenance is local, responsive, accountable. The chargers themselves are simpler – Level 2 units have far fewer failure modes than Level 3 stations with their liquid cooling, high-voltage DC systems, and complex power electronics. A well-installed Level 2 charger should run for a decade (we have experience with them operating even longer!) with minimal attention.
The compatibility problem. CHAdeMO or CCS? Tesla connector or J1772? Adapter required or not? Cable long enough to reach the charge port, or awkwardly short? Connector designed for the driver’s side, but the only available spot puts the charger on the passenger side?
Eliminated. Standards converged. Cables are long enough. Chargers are positioned thoughtfully, by people who actually use them, not by installers minimizing cable costs. Every charger works with every vehicle.
The speed anxiety problem. Level 2 too slow for a quick errand. Level 3 too expensive for regular use. Neither available at the destination you’re actually going to. Calculations about whether you have enough charge to skip this charger and make it to the next one. Mental math about kilowatts and hours and range and buffer.
Eliminated. When chargers are everywhere, speed is irrelevant. You’re not trying to “fill up” in one session; you’re topping up at every stop. Twenty minutes at the grocery store adds 15 km of range. Two hours at the arena adds 50 km. Eight hours at work adds 150 km. You always have more charge than you need because you’re always plugged in when parked. The battery floats between 50% and 80%, rarely dropping low, never needing an urgent fast charge.
The weather problem. Chargers buried in snowbanks. Impossibly stiff cables or simply just frozen to the ground. Connectors that wouldn’t mate in extreme cold. Screens unreadable in bright sunlight. Touchscreens unresponsive to gloved fingers. No shelter from rain or wind while connecting.
Eliminated. Chargers in northern communities are designed for northern conditions. Heated connectors that release cleanly at -40°. Cables that stay flexible in cold weather. Physical buttons instead of touchscreens, or no buttons at all – just plug in and go. Snow clearing that treats chargers as essential infrastructure, not afterthoughts.
The safety problem. Chargers in dark corners of parking lots. Chargers in isolated locations with no visibility. Chargers where you’d never want to stand alone at night. Chargers with tripping hazards from cables across walkways. Chargers that felt unsafe, even if they technically weren’t.
Eliminated. Community chargers are placed where community members actually want to use them – visible, well-lit, integrated into the built environment. Lighting is part of the installation, not an afterthought. Chargers are positioned so cables don’t cross walkways. The spaces feel like they belong, because they were designed by people who use them, not by installers following minimum specifications.
The anxiety problem. All of the above, compounding into a constant low-level cognitive load: Is there a charger where I’m going? Will it work? Will I be able to pay? Will I have to wait? Do I have enough charge if it doesn’t work out? Should I charge now just in case? The mental overhead of managing a resource that should be as thoughtless as electricity – because it is electricity.
Eliminated. You never think about charging. You plug in when you park. You unplug when you leave. The system handles everything else. The last time you thought about “range” was when you were explaining to your elderly mother why her new EV doesn’t need gas stations.
The Infrastructure Layer
What does the physical infrastructure look like in this future?
Ubiquitous pedestals. Every parking space at every public facility has a charger – not a cord dangling from a wall, but a proper pedestal with integrated cable management, lighting, and protection from vehicle impact. The pedestals are standardized, modular, locally maintainable. When technology changes, the charging module swaps out; the pedestal stays.
Pole-mounted chargers for residential areas. In residential areas without garages – common in many First Nations communities – chargers are mounted on utility poles at the street edge, one per lot or one per two lots. Power comes through the existing distribution system. The charger is maintained by the community, like a streetlight. Residents plug in at home without owning or installing anything.
Integrated parking design. New construction and parking lot renovations include charging as standard – not as a special “EV parking” section, but throughout. Every space is a charging space. The additional cost, amortized across the development, is trivial. The alternative – retrofitting later – would cost far more.
Smart load management. Behind the scenes, the community’s energy management system coordinates charging across all vehicles to optimize for local generation, battery storage, and grid conditions. Vehicles that will be parked for hours charge slowly, at the cheapest and cleanest times. Vehicles that need a quick top-up get faster charging. All of this is invisible to drivers – just plug in and go – but it dramatically reduces infrastructure costs and maximizes renewable integration.
Resilient microgrids. The charging network is integrated with the community’s broader energy system: solar generation, battery storage, and connections to the broader grid (if any). When the grid goes down, the microgrid islands and continues operating. Vehicles can provide backup power to homes and critical facilities. The transportation system and the energy system are unified, mutually reinforcing.
Local maintenance capacity. The community has trained technicians who maintain the charging network as part of broader infrastructure responsibilities. Parts are stocked locally. Common repairs are routine. The community doesn’t depend on external contractors for basic upkeep.
The Governance Layer
Technology alone doesn’t create frictionless systems. Governance matters just as much.
Community ownership. The charging network is owned by the community – the band council, a community energy corporation, or a cooperative structure. Decisions about expansion, pricing, and priorities are made locally, accountable to community members. Surplus revenue (if any) flows to community priorities, not external shareholders.
Universal access as a principle. Charging is treated as essential infrastructure, like water or roads. Every resident has access, regardless of housing situation. The family in the older home without a garage has the same access as the family in the new house with a driveway charger. The elder who can’t manage a cable has a helper or an automated system. No one is left out.
Transparent, stable costs. Energy costs are visible and predictable. Community members understand what they’re paying – or not paying – and why. There are no surprise fees, hidden charges, or complex rate structures. The economics are legible.
Visitor access without barriers. Non-community members can use the charging network easily, with fair compensation to the community. The system recognizes visitors automatically and handles payment seamlessly. The community is welcoming, not exclusionary – but it captures value from external use.
Integration with broader energy planning. Charging infrastructure decisions are part of broader community energy planning. Investments are coordinated with solar deployment, battery storage, building efficiency, and demand management. The transportation transition and the energy transition are unified strategies.
The Experiential Layer
What does it feel like to live in this future?
Effortless. Charging requires no thought. You plug in when you arrive, unplug when you leave. Everything else is handled. The cognitive load is zero.
Confident. You never worry about range, about finding a charger, about whether it will work. The infrastructure is reliable, ubiquitous, and invisible. Anxiety is absent because its causes are absent.
Integrated. Your vehicle is part of the community’s energy system, contributing to stability and resilience. You’re not just a consumer of electricity; you’re a participant in a shared resource. When the power flickers in a storm, your vehicle helps keep the lights on at the health centre.
Affordable. Transportation costs have plummeted. No gasoline. No oil changes. No exhaust repairs. Charging is cheap or free, depending on how the community structures its energy economics. The savings compound into other spending – or into savings, or into time not spent working to pay for fuel.
Local. The energy that moves your vehicle comes from the sun that shines on your community, stored in batteries owned by your community, distributed through infrastructure built and maintained by your neighbours. The money that used to flow to distant oil companies stays local. The decisions that used to be made in distant boardrooms are made at band council meetings.
Normal. Most of all, it feels normal. Not special, not futuristic, not like a sacrifice or a statement. Just how things work. Children growing up in this community will find the old stories about gas stations and range anxiety as quaint as their grandparents’ stories about party-line telephones and outhouses. They won’t understand why anyone would drive to a special location to refuel, wait in line, pump flammable liquid into a tank, and pay for the privilege. They’ll plug in when they park, like plugging in a phone. They won’t think about it at all.
The Visitor’s Perspective
James drives up from Winnipeg to visit family in the community. He’s been here before, but this is his first time in an EV – a new truck he bought last year after the prices finally came down enough.
He was nervous about the drive. It’s 500 km, and while there are fast chargers along the highway now, he’s heard stories about lineups and broken stations. The trip was fine – one 25-minute stop in a town with fast chargers at the Tim Hortons, enough time for coffee and a bathroom break. He arrived with 50% state-of-charge.
Pulling into the community, he’s not sure what to expect. His cousins told him there were chargers everywhere, but he’s used to the city, where “chargers everywhere” means one charger per shopping mall parking lot, usually occupied or out of service.
He pulls up to his cousin’s house and sees the pole-mounted charger at the street edge. He parks, gets out, plugs in. The connector clicks. A small light turns green. That’s it.
“Don’t I need to pay or something?” he asks his cousin.
“The truck handles it. You’ll see it on your account.”
“What account?”
“Whatever you set up when you got the truck. Plug and Charge. Works everywhere now.”
James checks later. There’s a line item on his charging account – the one he set up with his utility back home and has barely thought about since – for a few dollars’ worth of electricity, clearly labeled with the community’s name. Less than he’d have paid for gas for the same distance.
Over the weekend, he plugs in at his cousin’s house overnight, at the arena during a community hockey game, and at the band office when he stops by to visit an aunt who works there. Each time: plug in, green light, forget about it. Each time: a few dollars added to his account, or less, or nothing – he stops checking.
He drives home Sunday evening, fully charged, and doesn’t need to stop at all.
“I could get used to this,” he thinks. And then, a moment later: “Why isn’t it like this everywhere?”
The Path We Took
This future didn’t happen by accident. It required deliberate choices:
Standards over fragmentation. The industry converged on Plug and Charge, on common connectors, on interoperability. Governments mandated it. Networks that resisted were left behind.
Community ownership over extraction. Indigenous communities and rural communities insisted on owning their infrastructure. Financing models evolved to support this. External companies learned to partner rather than dominate – or they didn’t get contracts.
Ubiquity over showcase projects. Public investment prioritized distributed Level 2 over concentrated Level 3. Twenty chargers across a community were valued more than one fast charger at a highway interchange.
Maintenance over deployment. Programs funded ongoing maintenance, not just installation. Broken chargers became rare because fixing them was built into the model.
Simplicity over features. Charger manufacturers stopped adding screens and apps and payment terminals. The chargers got simpler, more reliable, cheaper. The complexity moved to the back end, invisible to users.
Integration over silos. Transportation electrification and energy system transformation were planned together. Vehicles became grid assets. Charging became demand response. The systems reinforced each other.
Equity over speed. The focus shifted from fast charging for road warriors to everywhere charging for everyone. The communities that needed infrastructure most got it, not last but first.
What This Future Makes Possible
When charging is frictionless, other things become possible:
Universal EV adoption. The barriers that kept people from switching – range anxiety, charging uncertainty, infrastructure gaps – evaporate. EVs become the obvious choice, not just for enthusiasts but for everyone.
Transportation equity. Communities that were fuel deserts, paying more for transportation than anyone, become models of efficient, affordable mobility. The gap closes, not because wealthy communities got worse but because underserved communities got what they needed.
Energy sovereignty. Communities that generate their own electricity and use it to power their own vehicles have achieved something profound: independence from external fuel supply chains, from volatile commodity markets, from decisions made elsewhere about their essential needs.
Resilient communities. When the next ice storm hits, when the winter road doesn’t open, when the grid has problems, communities with integrated energy and transportation systems ride it out. Vehicles provide backup power. Local generation keeps essential services running. The community depends on itself.
Economic transformation. Money that used to leave the community – to oil companies, to distant utilities, to gas station chains – stays local. Jobs in energy and transportation are local jobs. The economic multiplier is local.
Climate progress. Transportation emissions fall to zero. The hardest-to-decarbonize sector – personal vehicles in rural and remote communities – decarbonizes. The transition that skeptics said was impossible for communities without urban density happens anyway, because the model was never about density. It was about infrastructure.
The Question We Should Be Asking
The future described here is not fantasy. Every element is technically feasible today. Plug and Charge exists. Level 2 chargers continue to be as simple and reliable as when they were first placed. Community ownership models are proven. Smart load management is operational. Cold-weather engineering is understood.
The barriers are not technological. They’re institutional, financial, and imaginative. We keep building the wrong infrastructure because we keep imagining the wrong future – a future of fast chargers and gas station replacements, instead of a future of everywhere charging and invisible infrastructure.
The question is not whether this frictionless future is possible. It is.
The question is whether we will build it – and for whom.
Every community that installs a Level 3 fast charger at the highway interchange instead of twenty Level 2 chargers throughout the community is making a choice. Every government program that counts charging stations instead of charging access is making a choice. Every business model that extracts payment friction instead of eliminating it is making a choice.
We can choose differently. We can build the infrastructure that makes charging invisible, that makes access universal, that makes transportation electrification a force for equity rather than another technology that benefits the already-advantaged.
The frictionless future is waiting. It’s just not evenly distributed yet.
