u/barrel-boy

We see it constantly in mainstream commentary: critics claiming EV batteries need double or triple their current range before they are practical. But behavioural economist Rory Sutherland recently pointed out something fascinating about how our brains process battery levels versus actual driving range.

​The problem is not engineering; it is psychology.

​We have been conditioned by smartphones to view a 15% battery level as a red-alert crisis. When an EV dashboard displays 15%, our instinct triggers the exact same panic.

​However, distance changes the entire equation:

\- ​5% on a high-capacity long-range battery might still leave you with 40 km of range—more than enough to comfortably reach the nearest fast charger or home. Yet seeing "5%" triggers instant panic.

\- ​50% on a small 200 km city battery leaves you with 100 km, which feels totally safe simply because 50% sounds like a big cushion.

​When you translate state-of-charge into actual kilometres, the anxiety vanishes.

​A standard petrol or diesel dual-cab utility or sedan typically gets 600 km to 700 km out of a tank in real-world driving. Many modern EVs easily cover 400 km to 500 km on a single charge. Very few Australian drivers cover more than 50 km per day for standard commutes. The physical capability is already there; the barrier is purely a psychological blockage.

​Engineers are working around the clock to squeeze more miles out of battery chemistry to solve a problem that is largely down to display design.

​The next time a mate brings up range anxiety as a reason not to consider an EV, ask them a simple question: Are you worried about the kilometres left on the dashboard, or are you just afraid of a low percentage number?

​Once you switch the display settings from percentage to distance, the anxiety vanishes.

At about 1:30 on Sunday morning, I took a friend to Wollongong Hospital Emergency after she'd fallen down some stairs and badly injured herself – a broken nose, a nasty gash to her forehead, and fractures to her wrist and toe.

It occurred to me pretty quickly how the situation must have looked.

A man arrives in ED in the middle of the night with a woman whose face is covered in blood and who has significant facial injuries. Particularly at this time of year, the staff are absolutely right to be alert to the possibility of domestic violence.

What impressed me enormously was how they handled it.

At no point did anyone treat me with suspicion or disrespect. From the triage staff to the nurses and everyone who looked after her in emergency care, we were both treated with warmth, dignity and genuine kindness.

And yet they still did exactly what good healthcare professionals should do.

At one point I went to the bathroom. They recognised the opportunity, waited until I was out of the room, and quietly asked my friend whether everything was okay at home and whether she felt safe.

It was discreet, thoughtful and compassionate. They managed to protect someone who could potentially have been experiencing domestic violence without treating the person accompanying her as though he must be responsible.

I thought that balance was exceptionally well handled.

The rest of the care was just as good. They looked after her when she was frightened, injured and having a truly awful night. They looked after me too – someone even found me a reclining chair so I could get some sleep while we waited.

When you're moved from triage to one area and then another, you don't always get the opportunity to go back and thank the people who helped you earlier. So this is partly an attempt to do that.

We complain about healthcare when it doesn't work, and sometimes with good reason. But I think it's equally important to say something when it works extraordinarily well.

In the middle of the night, while most of Wollongong was asleep, there were people at our public hospital quietly looking after strangers – dealing with injuries, fear, intoxication, aggression, vulnerability and everything else an emergency department sees on a Saturday night.

And they were still kind.

My friend had just had one of the worst nights of her life, yet both of us came away feeling incredibly grateful for the people who looked after her.

We're very fortunate to have people like this working in the Illawarra, and very fortunate to live in a country where, when something goes badly wrong at 1:30 in the morning, these people are there.

So, to the triage staff, nurses and everyone in ED at Wollongong Hospital on Saturday night/Sunday morning: thank you.

You probably don't hear it nearly enough.