In April 2025, while most of the world was clutching pearls over tariff skirmishes, China calmly walked over to the global supply chain and yanked out a few critical bolts. Not metaphorical bolts—real ones, made of dysprosium, terbium, tungsten, indium, and yttrium. The obscure elements that don’t trend on social media but without which your electric car won’t drive, your fighter jet won’t fly, and your solar panels might as well be roof tiles.
These are the minerals that quietly appear on government risk registers just before wars start or clean energy projects get quietly shelved.
I’ve been diving deep into critical minerals lately—reading, researching, and busting some of the more dramatic myths surrounding them. I recently spoke with Gavin Mudd, director of the Critical Minerals Intelligence Centre at the British Geological Survey, for Redefining Energy–Tech. We covered how the West has spent 40 years pretending these minerals weren’t critical and how difficult it will be to rebuild domestic capacity. I’ve also been learning from Lyle Trytten, aka “The Nickel Nerd,” who’s engineered mineral extraction and processing operations around the world.
What China did wasn’t a ban—at least not in name. It was “export licensing.” A term that sounds like it belongs in a trade lawyer’s wet dream. But in reality? It’s a surgical strike. Beijing didn’t have to say “no.” They just had to say “maybe later” to the right stack of paperwork. These licenses give China control over where these materials go, how fast, in what quantity, and to whom.
And the U.S.? Washington should get used to waiting behind the rope line. Licenses must clearly state the end use and final destination. Licenses for U.S. customers? Unlikely to be approved.
This was entirely predictable. China has spent decades tightening its grip on these supply chains, while the U.S. gleefully outsourced, divested, and ignored report after report warning against 90% dependence on a strategic rival.
Let’s talk about what’s actually being restricted:
Dysprosium: If your electric motor needs to operate at high temperatures—and they all do—it probably uses neodymium magnets doped with dysprosium. No dysprosium, no thermal stability. No thermal stability, no F-35s, no Mustang Mach-Es. China controls nearly the entire global supply. There’s no secret mine in Wyoming waiting to save the day. This is the spinal cord of electrification, and China is holding the vertebrae.
Tungsten: The metal that makes bullets bulletproof—literally. It’s also critical in machine tools, semiconductors, and alloys used in jet engines and deep-sea drilling. The U.S. hasn’t produced meaningful quantities since the Obama era. China holds 80% of global production. Sure, Vietnam and Portugal exist, but they can’t supply at scale anytime soon. This wasn’t about targeting one sector; it was a shot at the entire U.S. industrial base.
Terbium: Dysprosium’s equally essential cousin. Needed for high-efficiency EV motors, offshore wind turbines, sonar systems, and night-vision goggles. Like dysprosium, it’s mined, refined, and licensed almost entirely by China. There are no good substitutes—at least not ones that don’t require re-engineering or violating physics.
Indium: Less famous but no less vital. It’s the transparent conductor in your screens, fiber optics, and laser diodes. No indium, no touchscreens, no 5G, no advanced solar panels. The U.S. has zero domestic production. Canada, South Korea, and Japan produce some, but the global market still revolves around Chinese supply.
Yttrium: Sounds like a typo, but it’s indispensable. YAG lasers, high-frequency radar systems, and jet engine coatings all rely on it. No yttrium, no precision lasers, no stabilized turbine blades, no high-altitude performance. Guess who refines nearly all of it?
These aren’t exotic materials for rare gadgets—they’re the invisible scaffolding of the modern world. The defense sector is especially exposed: smart munitions, night vision, stealth tech—all depend on these elements. Without them, military superiority becomes a very expensive pile of malfunctioning gear.
Then come semiconductors. The U.S. is investing billions into domestic chip production, but no one talks about the tungsten and indium needed to actually build the chips. Or that compound semiconductors for 5G infrastructure require the very metals China just restricted. No minerals, no chips. No chips, no smart weapons. No smart weapons, no edge.
And then there’s clean tech. U.S. ambitions to manufacture EVs, solar panels, and wind turbines are going to hit a wall. Without dysprosium and terbium, EV motors get clunky and inefficient. Without tellurium, First Solar’s signature cadmium-telluride panels are unbuildable. Without yttrium, wind turbine blades fatigue faster and fail sooner.
Economically, the impact is already here. Prices are up. Supply chains are stressed. Product delays and cost overruns are just beginning. Allies like Canada and Australia would love to help—but they can’t match China’s scale or speed. And now, they’re getting hit with the same tariffs that prompted China’s retaliation in the first place.
This was avoidable. The data was there. The warnings were issued. But the U.S. chased low-cost sourcing, ignored its own dependency ratios, and treated critical materials like fast food—always available, always cheap.
There’s still time to act. But it would require a strategic reversal: scrap the tariffs, rebuild alliances, invest in long-term mining, refining, and recycling capacity—domestically and with trusted partners. That takes money, coordination, and political courage.
So here we are. China just turned off the tap on some of the most essential ingredients of the modern economy. The U.S. is standing in the cold, clipboard in hand, wondering where the magnets went.
