Most policy debates treat critical minerals as a monolithic threat from China, but Jordan Schneider argues that this blanket approach is actively weakening American security by spreading resources too thin across irrelevant materials.
The Failure of the Categorical Approach
Schneider opens with a stark assessment of fifteen years of bipartisan effort: despite tens of billions in funding, the United States remains overwhelmingly vulnerable because it refuses to distinguish between high-stakes dependencies and manageable risks. "U.S. critical mineral policy has recently taken a categorical approach, rather than prioritized strategy," Schneider writes. This is a devastating critique of current federal spending, which treats marginally exposed materials with the same urgency as those where China holds a near-total monopoly.
The author points to the expansion of the United States Geological Survey (USGS) list from 35 to 60 materials as a primary culprit. By broadening the definition of "critical," policymakers have diluted the impact of subsidies and incentives. Schneider notes that because these benefits apply equally across the board, they "offer benefits to the most consequential and insignificant minerals alike." This logic holds up under scrutiny; when you try to save everything, you often end up saving nothing.
America should be well past the point of treating critical mineral risk as a hypothetical—the Chinese certainly are.
The historical context here is vital. Schneider reminds readers that China's willingness to weaponize supply chains moved from theory to reality in 2010 when rare earth exports were cut off to Japan over island disputes. That was a warning shot fired more than a decade ago. Yet, when the administration imposed export controls on gallium and germanium in late 2023, the U.S. had some domestic alternatives ready. However, when restrictions hit graphite, antimony, and later rare earths in 2025, manufacturers were forced to shut down production lines.
The Case for a Prioritized List
The core of Schneider's proposal is a radical simplification: cut the list of priority minerals from 60 down to just 25. This new list would be defined not by abstract economic models alone, but by "proven Chinese ability and willingness to interfere with those specific supply chains." The author uses USGS data to show that a small cluster of materials accounts for the overwhelming majority of economic risk.
Schneider highlights the distinction between rare earth elements. While heavy rare earths like dysprosium and terbium are almost exclusively controlled by China, light rare earths like neodymium are more geologically dispersed. However, Schneider argues they must be treated as a single unit because "these elements all naturally occur together." You cannot mine one without the other. This geological reality is often ignored in policy circles that try to cherry-pick specific elements for investment.
The analysis extends to non-rare earth materials where China holds dominance. Gallium, essential for semiconductors, sees 98 percent of global production in China. Magnesium, crucial for aerospace alloys and ammunition, presents an acute vulnerability; the sole American smelter filed for bankruptcy in September 2025, leaving the U.S. more than 75 percent import-dependent. Schneider writes that "China produces 90 percent of global supply for primary magnesium," creating a situation where price manipulation is inevitable.
Critics might argue that narrowing the list ignores emerging threats or future technological shifts. However, Schneider counters that resources are finite: "every dollar directed toward securing phosphate rock supply is a dollar unavailable for gallium recovery." The argument prioritizes immediate, high-probability risks over speculative future needs.
When Government Intervention Fails
Perhaps the most insightful part of the commentary is where Schneider explicitly removes materials from the priority list. Copper and potash, despite their inclusion in official government lists, are deemed unsuitable for targeted industrial policy. The reasoning is economic: the global copper market exceeds $270 billion annually.
"A multibillion-dollar price support program—as might be offered for smaller-value materials—would barely register against existing market forces," Schneider explains. For massive markets like copper, the solution is not government capital but regulatory reform to speed up permitting. Similarly, potash risks stem from Canada, a stable ally, making it a trade relationship issue rather than a strategic threat comparable to Chinese dominance.
Prioritization requires limiting benefits not only to areas where China is most dominant, but also to where those dollars will make an impact.
This distinction is crucial for busy policymakers. It separates materials that need a government hand (like bismuth or antimony) from those that simply need the private sector to operate without bureaucratic drag. The author notes that for tellurium and molydenum, American access is not meaningfully impaired despite Chinese restrictions, further proving that blanket policies are inefficient.
Bottom Line
Schneider's strongest argument is the shift from a reactive, categorical mindset to a proactive, prioritized strategy that acknowledges the limits of government capital. The piece's biggest vulnerability lies in its reliance on the assumption that private industry can rapidly scale up production for the remaining 25 materials once funding is targeted; history suggests supply chains take years, not quarters, to build. Readers should watch how the executive branch responds to this call for a shorter list, as it demands the political courage to defund popular but strategically irrelevant projects.