It’s just soot. Let’s call it what it is.
We live in a world obsessed with the ethereal—the cloud, the AI, the invisible lines of code that supposedly run our lives. But if you want to know why your EV battery doesn’t explode or why your tires don’t melt into a puddle of goo on a July afternoon, you have to look at the dirt. Specifically, the high-grade industrial soot known as carbon black.
Himadri Speciality Chemical just flipped the switch on a new 70,000 tonnes per annum (TPA) production line at its facility in Hooghly, West Bengal. This brings their total capacity up to 320,000 TPA. It’s a massive, hot, noisy expansion that smells like industrial progress and old-school manufacturing. It isn't sleek. It isn't "disruptive" in the way a Silicon Valley pitch deck claims to be. But it’s the kind of heavy lifting that actually keeps the global supply chain from snapping like a dry twig.
The press release is predictably dry. It talks about "commercial operations" and "value-added grades." What it doesn't say is that Himadri is positioning itself as the primary alternative to the Chinese chemical stranglehold. For years, the tech world ignored where its raw materials came from, provided they were cheap and arrived on time. Then the pandemic happened. Then the trade wars happened. Now, suddenly, everyone is very interested in specialty chemicals coming out of India.
Carbon black is the ultimate filler. If you’re making a tire, about a third of it is this stuff. It provides the tensile strength and the wear resistance. But Himadri isn't just aiming for the rubber on your wheels. They’re chasing the specialty market—the high-purity carbon needed for lithium-ion batteries. You know, the things inside the smartphones and cars that every tech journalist is currently hyperventilating over.
Here is the friction, though. You don't get 70,000 tonnes of specialty carbon without a massive environmental footprint. It’s the dirty little secret of the "green" transition. To build a fleet of zero-emission vehicles, you need a sprawling network of chemical plants churning out carbon-intensive additives. It’s a trade-off we’ve all decided to ignore for the sake of the narrative. Himadri claims they’re focusing on "specialty" grades because the margins are better—it’s harder to make, costs more to refine, and commands a premium from companies desperate to de-risk their sourcing.
The company has been quiet about the exact price tag of this specific expansion, but building a line of this scale isn't pocket change. We’re talking about an investment that likely runs into the hundreds of millions of rupees, baked into a larger strategy to dominate the "black" end of the materials science world. They’re betting that the world’s appetite for high-performance plastics and batteries is bottomless. They might be right.
But let’s look at the grit. The chemical industry is notoriously volatile. One shift in feedstock prices—usually derived from heavy petroleum or coal tar—and those high-margin dreams start to look like a balance sheet nightmare. Himadri is scaling up at a time when global demand is softening in some sectors while exploding in others. It’s a gamble on the longevity of the EV craze and the continued friction between Western markets and Chinese suppliers.
There’s also the question of the Hooghly site itself. It’s an old industrial hub. Scaling up there means navigating the labyrinth of Indian bureaucracy and the logistical nightmare of moving 320,000 tonnes of fine black powder across a country that is still trying to figure out its own infrastructure. It’s messy. It’s complicated. It’s exactly the kind of thing that venture capitalists hate because you can’t scale it with a software update.
The market reacted with the usual shrug. Stocks moved a bit. Analysts ticked a box. But the reality is that without these massive, soot-stained plants, the entire tech sector grinds to a halt. We want our gadgets to be thin and light and "clean," but they are built on the back of 70,000-tonne expansions of industrial soot.
Himadri is now a bigger player in that shadow world. They’ve added the capacity, they’ve turned on the machines, and the black powder is flowing. It’s not the future we were promised in sci-fi movies, but it’s the one we’re actually building.
Does anyone actually care where the carbon in their battery comes from, as long as the percentage bar stays green?
