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EntryUpdated 2026/08/08

Rare Earths Are Not Rare — So Why Is Everyone Stuck?

Because the bottleneck is not the ore but the processing. Deposits are spread across many countries, while the capacity to separate ore into usable material is concentrated in a few places — and that step is gated by environmental cost and decades of operating experience, not by geology.

Which minerals count as “critical”, and who decides?

Critical minerals is a policy category, not a chemical one. Each country writes its own list, usually on three tests: essential to a strategic industry, concentrated in few sources, and without a near-term substitute.

Typical lists include lithium, nickel, cobalt, copper, graphite, and the rare earth elements — the first five underpin batteries and grids, while rare earths go into permanent-magnet motors, sensors, and missile guidance.

Lists change, and the change is itself information: a material is added when some industry has just discovered a dependency it never inventoried.

Why are rare earths called rare? Are they?

They are not. Rare earth elements are reasonably abundant in the crust; several are more common than copper. “Rare” refers to how seldom they form concentrated deposits, being usually dispersed within other minerals.

The difficulty is therefore not finding them but separating them. The seventeen elements are chemically so similar that pulling them apart takes hundreds of repeated solvent-extraction stages — a process that is energy-hungry, acid-hungry, and produces radioactive waste.

That is the whole story: the bottleneck is not geology but willingness to carry the environmental cost and capital of that step — which is a political decision rather than a technical one.

Where in the chain is the chokepoint?

The chain has at least four steps: mining, separation and refining, materials manufacture such as permanent magnets, and final assembly. Their concentration differs sharply.

Mining is relatively dispersed — Australia, the United States, Brazil, and Southeast Asia all produce. The concentration sits in the middle two steps. A country can own the ore and still ship it elsewhere for processing, then buy the finished material back.

This is a classic chokepoint, located in a process rather than at sea. It also explains why “we have our own deposits” is not a guarantee: the ore is yours and the capability is somebody else’s.

Why is it not being fixed? The subsidies have been flowing for years.

Three constraints bind at once. First, time: a new separation plant typically needs five to ten years from permit to steady output, and the permit itself carries the environmental fight.

Second, price. The market is small and highly volatile, and a dominant supplier can let prices fall as new capacity approaches start-up, so the new plant loses viability before it opens. This requires no unlawful act — only capacity and patience.

Third, process knowledge. Separation parameters, impurity control, and yield are decades of accumulated operating experience and do not ship with the equipment — the same difficulty as yield in semiconductors. So friend-shoring here is not simply relocating a plant; somebody has to be willing to fund the unprofitable years.

What should a company actually inventory?

Trace to the third and fourth tiers. Critical minerals almost never appear on a first-tier purchase list — you buy motors, sensors, or battery modules, and the minerals sit upstream of those.

Watch the items with negligible cost share. The typical single point of failure is a material worth under one per cent of cost with two suppliers in the world — and procurement systems rank by cost.

Push “do we have a second source?” all the way to the common upstream. Two suppliers may buy the same magnet material from the same producer: the redundancy exists on the vendor list, not in the physical chain.