The emerging green economy will be an increasingly electrified economy, with copper the metal that makes electrification practical, efficient, and scalable. Without sufficient copper—mined responsibly and recycled aggressively—technologies like renewables, electric vehicles, and smart grids will not expand at the speed required to meet even our current (read inadequate) climate goals.
Fundamentally, current plans for the green economy involve replacing fossil-fuel combustion with electricity from clean sources—although beyond that challenge even bigger ones await, among them regenerating the planet’s ecosystems.
Copper is actively driving a new wave of mergers and acquisitions (M&A) in the mining industry because it sits at the centre of the energy transition—and the industry is struggling to supply enough of it, fast enough, and responsibly enough. The result is consolidation driven by scarcity, risk, and scale.
Turns out that most of the world’s large, high-grade, low-cost copper deposits are already owned. New discoveries tend to be lower grade, deeper, more remote, and more politically or environmentally challenging. So, it is often faster and cheaper to buy copper in the ground than to discover it. Companies acquire rivals to secure reserves rather than gamble on exploration.
Bronze Age snapshot
Copper has long cast a spell over me. I first became aware of the metal as a child in Cyprus, back in the 1950s, when we visited both asbestos and copper mines. In the case of the copper adventure, I suspect this involved Skouriotissa, often cited as one of the oldest continuously exploited copper mining areas in the world.
Indeed, the island’s very name—Kypros—comes from the metal. Long before I knew its chemistry, I sensed its weight in history. And I have since visited the Uluburun wreck in a Bodrum museum, on two separate trips to Turkey. The display provides a fascinating snapshot of Late Bronze Age globalization—with raw copper moving by sea to be turned into tools, weapons, and prestige goods around the Aegean.
One image that has stayed with me is the distinctive “oxhide” shape of the standardised copper ingots favored in ancient times—forms that also turn up in Bronze Age shipwrecks across the Aegean and along the south coast of Turkey.
Along the way, I learned that copper is one of the few so-called native metals, occurring naturally in a directly usable metallic form. This allowed humans to begin working it as early as 8000 BC.
Thousands of years later, copper became the first metal to be smelted from sulphide ores (around 5000 BC); the first to be cast into molded shapes—like those oxhide ingots—from around 4000 BC; and, critically, the first to be deliberately alloyed with another metal, tin, to create bronze, around 3500 BC.
No copper, no Bronze Age.
The Great Electrification
The other shape that now comes to mind when I think about copper is the spiral-patterned copper roof of the Eden Project’s educational building, The Core. Inspired by Fibonacci sequences found in nature—sunflower seedheads, for example—the roof is clad in traceable, ethically sourced copper from a US mine.
That, however, is a small, local application compared with what lies ahead.
Copper turns out to be indispensable to the green transition because it is highly conductive (second only to silver among common metals), durable and corrosion-resistant, and long-lived. These qualities make it the backbone of electrification.
As a result, copper and its alloys are used extensively in power-generation equipment, transmission and distribution grids, and in motors, transformers, and inverters. Every step of the coming Great Electrification—from generation to end use—depends on copper.
Renewable energy technologies use far more copper than fossil-fuel systems. Wind turbines require large quantities for generators, power cables, and transformers. Solar photovoltaic systems rely on copper for inverters, grounding, and interconnections. Hydropower, too, depends on copper in generators and control systems.
To put it plainly, a wind or solar power plant can use two to five times more copper per unit of capacity than a conventional fossil-fuel plant. Electricity must be generated, converted, and transmitted—rather than simply burned on site.
The same pattern holds in transport. Electric vehicles are far more copper-intensive than cars with internal combustion engines. A conventional car typically contains 20–25 kilograms of copper; an EV can require 80–90 kilograms, much of it in the battery and power electronics.
Copper also underpins the emerging hydrogen economy. It is used in electrolyzers that produce green hydrogen, in power electronics and control systems, and in fuel cells, synthetic fuels, and advanced power technologies.
This is a truly systemic challenge. Anyone wanting to boost their energy literacy needs to understand where materials like copper fit in. A green economy needs a bigger, smarter, and more resilient grid for its transmission lines, substations and energy storage systems.
Elsewhere, copper’s thermal conductivity makes it vital for heat exchangers, energy-efficient buildings, industrial electrification and data centers supporting digital and energy transitions. Given that energy efficiency gains reduce total demand, copper can be an indirect but powerful route to decarbonization.
It also aligns well with green-economy principles because it is infinitely recyclable without loss of performance, already part of a mature global recycling system, and often reused at lower energy cost than primary production. So, for example recycling copper uses up to 80–85% less energy than producing it from ore, reducing emissions and resource pressures.
Enabling slavery and sustainability
The idea of writing this particular post came to me when I was reading Siddharta Kara’s stunning book The Zorg, a history of two notorious slaving ships, The eponymous Zorg and the copper-bottomed William.
In British-English, the term “copper-bottomed” is used to describe something thoroughly reliable, trustworthy, and certain to succeed, originating from the practice of sheathing wooden ships’ hulls with copper to protect them from marine growth, making them faster and more durable. For an excellent account of the trials and tribulations that went into sheathing ships, I highly recommend this article.
In the case of slaving ships, however, the metal was used to make the unimaginably frightful business more efficient. In like manner, copper has been used to power innumerable unsustainable industries and economies.
In the more recent case of sustainability, meanwhile, copper also has the advantage of being fairly accessible. Vast resources remain, but we face a significant supply crunch as demand for green energy rapidly outpaces new mine production, leading to potential shortages and higher prices in the coming decade.
Copper , clearly, will form the conductive backbone of the green economy—connecting clean power, electric mobility, efficient buildings, and smart grids—but its future value depends on whether it is mined, used, and recycled in ways that break from the exploitative patterns of its past.
And, along the way, it will find new applications. The metal is renowned for its antimicrobial properties, for example, proven by the fact that yeasts, viruses, and bacteria can’t survive on copper surfaces for significant time periods.
This is down to the fact that copper affects the electrical charge of microbial cell membranes. In fact, copper surfaces can kill 99.9% of bacteria that lands on them within two hours, as proven by the US Environmental Protection Agency.
Consequently, other metals and plastics are being replaced with copper or copper alloys in hospital environments to limit the spread of infections. Frequently touched surfaces, including pens, chairs, call buttons, bedrails, handrails, doorknobs, and countertops, are being prioritised for this change.
Where used in this way, copper is predicted to reduce the number of hospital-acquired infections more than half.
Trump vs. the circular economy
So, copper’s deep-rooted story looks set to run and run. And a key question revolves around what sort of mindsets we might bring to bear on the relevant problems and opportunities.
One approach would involve new forms of colonialism and imperialism, which in the last round were fueled by labor and income from African slavery. Now in the era of the reclaimed Monroe Doctrine, the United States is showing strong colonial instincts again. Statements from—and reporting on—President Trump’s renewed interest in acquiring Greenland make it clear that natural resources are among several key motivations.
Both Trump and White House officials have argued that owning the giant, ice-bound island’s mineral wealth—including copper and especially rare earths—would enhance U.S. economic and strategic interests. And, crucially, help to cut reliance on China for critical materials which that country has shown every inclination to weaponize.
Still, quite apart from the clear ethical and geopolitical considerations, analysts also stress that mineral extraction in Greenland would be technically and economically challenging because of the harsh climate, lack of infrastructure, and strong environmental regulations. All of which suggests that even if Greenland is rich in copper, it would take years and huge investments to develop those resources.
Torc talk
So let me end with one of the oldest and most evocative uses of copper and its alloys: the torcs prized by Celtic tribes. I see them as fitting icons for a transition toward more circular economies.
Even then, torcs were far more than jewellery. They were charged symbols of identity, power, and cosmology, worn at the most vulnerable and visible part of the body—the neck.
A torc signalled who you were in the social order and was often buried with the dead, suggesting a belief that status could be carried into the afterlife. Greek and Roman writers repeatedly described Celtic warriors wearing torcs, sometimes naked except for the metal ring itself—a badge of courage, a declaration of fearlessness, and a direct challenge to enemies.
Perhaps copper can once again serve as a catalyst—this time prompting us to think more energetically about circularity. Today it underpins energy flows (through electricity), heat flows (across buildings, cities, and industry), and information flows (almost everywhere else). Step back, and it becomes clear why some now describe copper as a “systems metal,”capable of linking multiple material flows and emerging circular loops.
My hope is that copper’s long history—and its growing role in future markets—can act as a catalyst not only for those designing and running such systems, but for all of us as we navigate an increasingly turbulent world.
I don’t know if you’ve ever swallowed barium for an X-ray—I have. The logic of the “barium swallow” is simple: barium is radiopaque, so it shows up clearly on scans while passing harmlessly through the body, allowing doctors to track movement and function in real time.
Perhaps copper could play a similar role in our economies—alongside other tracers like human talent, water and electrons—helping us see more clearly how our systems really work, as we transition them toward more sustainable configurations.
John Elkington is Founder & Global Ambassador at Volans and Chairman & Chief Pollinator at Countercurrent. His personal website can be accessed here.
His latest book, Tickling Sharks, is available on Amazon and through good bookshops.
Brilliant work - once again John! You've put copper back in its rightful place. But maybe we need to do more to make sure we recycle and reuse copper that's already in the system and not let it go to waste.