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America’s effort to reduce its dependence on Chinese clean-energy companies is producing an unexpected result: Chinese owners are leaving, but much of their machinery, technical knowledge and supply chain remains. The policy may strengthen American manufacturing, yet it does not automatically create technological independence.

A forced transfer of assets

The shift is visible in a solar-panel factory in Dallas. China’s Trina Solar built the highly automated plant in 2024, then sold it to the American company T1 Energy soon after production began. With annual capacity of five gigawatts, it can make enough modules to power roughly 1m homes. Similar sales are spreading across the industry. Since 2025, almost \$9bn of Chinese renewable-energy investment in America has been sold, paused or cancelled, after Chinese firms committed \$15.5bn to American green-energy projects between 2022 and 2024.

The trigger was a change to American tax law. Companies tied closely to China can no longer claim generous clean-manufacturing subsidies. One programme cuts a producer’s tax bill by seven cents for every watt of solar-module capacity and \$35 for every kilowatt-hour of battery-cell capacity. For a five-gigawatt solar factory, that support can be worth about \$350m a year. The new rules also restrict Chinese ownership, licensed technology and inputs, with the permitted share of Chinese components scheduled to fall further by 2030.

These conditions make many Chinese-owned plants uneconomic. Some assets have sold at discounts of up to 40%. Boway, a Chinese industrial company, sold a newly built three-gigawatt factory in North Carolina for \$254m, around 15% less than its construction cost. American buyers are acquiring modern production lines cheaply, while Chinese firms preserve a foothold through minority stakes, licensing deals or operating partnerships.

Ownership is not independence

The transactions look like industrial decoupling on paper, but the factory floor tells a more complicated story. Many buyers are financial investors rather than experienced manufacturers, so they still rely on Chinese partners for operational expertise. Some ownership structures seem designed mainly to satisfy the legal rules. Trina, for example, transferred intellectual property to a Singaporean company so that its former Dallas plant could continue licensing the technology.

The supply chain is harder to rearrange than a corporate chart. China makes about 95% of the world’s polysilicon, the main raw material in solar panels. American producers may be able to remove Chinese shareholders and brands, but replacing Chinese inputs, equipment and know-how is much more difficult. Beijing’s own new restrictions on overseas technology transfers could make that dependence even more awkward.

The outcome is therefore deeply ironic. Legislation intended partly to curb America’s green-energy expansion may instead hand advanced factories to American owners at bargain prices. T1 is building a solar-cell plant in Austin, and the new owner of a Florida solar facility plans to expand it and begin making batteries. The sector is even recasting itself as a patriotic answer to Chinese dominance.

The larger lesson is that industrial power cannot be created by changing ownership alone. America may gain productive assets from China’s retreat, but genuine resilience will require domestic suppliers, skilled operators and technology that can function without Chinese support. Until then, the labels on the factories may be American while much of the system underneath remains Chinese.