Skip to main content

PG&E Launches EV Pilot Program

In this episode - PG&E Launches EV Pilot Program . . .

In a previous podcast episode (Bi-Directional Charging), we reported on V2H and V2G technology. Happy New Year, welcome to season four of On the Fly.

Dateline: Dec. 6, 2022 - Pacific Gas and Electric Company (PG&E) announced the launch of a pre-enrollment website for customers interested in joining the company’s upcoming Vehicle-to-Everything (V2X) pilot program. The “Vehicle to Everything” pilot envisions a future in which automobiles not only draw their power from the electrical grid but can strategically add electricity back to the grid when demand is high — and generate some money for their owners.

It’s based on the concept of bidirectional energy flow using EV batteries; this isn’t new, but having a utility company as dominant as PG&E onboard could transform the idea into a reality.

The pilot has space for 1,000 residential customers and 200 commercial customers. PG&E isn’t releasing the numbers for how many people have signed up. Still, Paul Doherty, a communications architect at PG&E, expects the enrollment period to take several months, stretching into Q1 2023. More than 420,000 EVs—one in six in the country—are registered in PG&E’s service area of Northern and Central California, where customers are often early adopters of new clean energy technologies.

On the residential side, customers can receive financial incentives of up to $2,500 just for enrolling in the pilot. That money, says Doherty, goes towards installing a bidirectional charger at the customer’s residence. The installation cost varies according to the home’s specifications. Still, Doherty says it’s unlikely that $2,500 will cover the total cost for most users, though it may come close, with most installations ranging in the low thousands.

Once the bidirectional charger is installed, customers can use the electricity to power their homes during peak demand hours and begin selling electricity back to the grid during flex alerts.

Southern California residents may remember back in September of 2022 when the electric grid was pushed to its breaking point thanks to a historic heatwave. During such events–or any other disaster that strains the system–customers can plug their vehicle in, discharge the battery, and get paid.

Doherty states that users can expect to make between $10 and $50 per flex alert depending on how severe the event is and how much of their battery they’re willing to discharge. That might not seem like a considerable sum, but the pilot program is slated to last two years.

Let’s say California averages ten flex alerts annually; like in 2022, customers could make $1,000. That could offset the rest of the bidirectional charger installation or provide another income stream. Not to mention help stabilize our beleaguered grid.

However, there’s always a catch. PG&E has to test and validate any bi-directional charger before it can be added to the program. So far, the only approved hardware is Ford’s Charge Station Pro, meaning only the F-150 Lightning–can participate in the program. That should change soon as the utility company tests additional hardware from other brands. Doherty says they’re expecting to add the Nissan LEAF, Hyundai’s IONIQ 5, the KIA EV6, and others soon since it’s just a matter of testing and integrating those chargers into the program.

The commercial side of the pilot looks similar to the residential. Businesses receive cash incentives upfront to help offset the cost of installing bidirectional chargers and then get paid for their contribution to stabilizing the grid in times of stress. PG&E says electric school bus fleets represent attractive targets for this technology due to their large battery capacity, high peak power needs, and predictable schedule.

If California’s aggressive plan to transition all new car sales to electric by 2035 succeeds — this would require it to add nearly two million new EVs to state roads every year — that’s two million rolling, high-power batteries with the potential to power our homes, our jobs and the grid at large. Getting there will be a colossal undertaking, but PG&E’s pilot could be a sufficient test, provided they can figure out how to get more vehicles than the Ford Lightning into the program. I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before the other utility companies follow suit, so stay tuned.

I’m Patrick Ball; thanks for listening. See you in the next episode.

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Overcooking the Grid

In this episode, terrified of smart toasters, yet demanding infinite electricity for potato personality tests. Pull up that chair again, and let’s hope your coffee is safe this time. In our last chat, we talked about our well-meaning but occasionally delusional AI friend, Chef Adamas, and his penchant for hallucinating blueberries into your Carbonara. We learned how to manage his quirks by keeping our “digital pantry” organized. But today, we need to look past the chef and take a hard look at the sheer size of the kitchen we are building for him. And folks, that kitchen has gotten completely out of hand. Down in Louisiana, tech companies are currently building an artificial intelligence data center the size of 70 football fields. It is a four-million-square-foot digital brain that requires so much electricity they are building three new natural gas power plants just to keep the servers from literally melting down into a puddle of expensive silicon. And what are we using this god-like, ...

Opening Day Magic 2026 . . .

It’s back. Baseball—yes, baseball ! If you’re someone who finds themselves inexplicably drawn to this peculiar ritual, let’s be honest with each other: it’s a bit odd, right? I mean, 162 games. That’s a lot of hot dogs, a lot of standing around, and a lot of grown men in oddly tailored trousers spitting with remarkable precision. And yet, here we are, poised on the precipice of another season. Thursday, March 26, 2026, to be precise—Opening Day. It’s a curious thing, this Opening Day. You walk into a stadium, or turn on the TV, and suddenly, everyone is infected with a highly contagious strain of . . . Optimism . It’s a spectacular form of collective amnesia. All of last year’s fumbles, the endless losing streaks, the existential dread of watching your bullpen implode in the eighth inning—poof. Gone. It’s entirely replaced by a wide-eyed, childlike belief that this year, finally, the baseball gods will smile upon us. The Cycle of Hope and Despair As a Cubs fan, I know this cycle intim...

Sierra Reflections 2011

Wrapped in the cozy warmth of a down bag I’m jolted awake from a deep slumber - nature calls. The silence is shattered by the rustle of my sleeping bag. The sweet aroma of the mountain fills the air, and that ever-present biting crisp air on your cheeks!  The zipper moans as you free yourself, then the struggle to find your wool sweater, pants, and shoes to stumble into the brisk morning air. Another zipper whines as you crawl to escape the protection of your mountain shelter. Quietly . . .  do not disturb  is the invisible sign worn by your fellow campers. Photo: Robert Weldon Darkness surrounds you, it's early morning, late summer. It’s tranquil, except for the soft gurgle of the trout stream that lulled you to sleep the night before.  Finally - clear weather, the rains have stopped; millions of stars twinkle like tiny sparkling diamonds against a pitch-black sky. Orion, the hunter is clearly visible in the eastern sky; careful inspection you can see ...

The "Doctor" Who Never Was

In this episode: The "Doctor" Who Never Was — A Return to the World of Seuss. Let’s take a trip back to March 2, 2022.  I was four years younger, significantly more naïve, and I made the mistake of asking an innocent question that—somehow—still echoes through the halls of pediatric offices everywhere:  Where exactly did the name Dr. Seuss come from? Because if we pause for even a moment, the whole thing is absurd. At some point, we collectively decided to accept moral guidance, life advice, and the occasional existential gut‑punch from a man whose résumé included oversized footwear, gravity‑defying cats, and an aggressive campaign to convince us that green ham was not only edible, but desirable. No white coat. No stethoscope. No medical board.  Just rhymes.  This wasn’t really a question about a title. It was a question about authority—and how easily we accept it when it comes wrapped in whimsy and ends with a couplet. Theodor Seuss Geisel was born in Springfield, M...