When an EV driver opens a charging app and sees a dealership listed as a public charging location, it seems like a convenient option. But arriving at that dealership after hours — or even during business hours, in some cases — can turn a routine top-off into a maddening exercise in frustration. Security gates, confusing signage, pricing that would make a gas station blush, and an unmistakable message that non-customers are not welcome have become far too common at dealer-hosted chargers. For drivers new to electric vehicles, that experience doesn’t just sour the opinion of one dealership; it tarnishes the entire idea of going electric.
When a “Public” Charger Is Anything But Public
Nearly a quarter of all publicly listed DC fast chargers across the United States and Canada are hosted by auto dealerships. That statistic alone means a large share of the charging network is effectively controlled by businesses whose primary interest is selling and servicing cars, not operating a reliable, accessible fueling infrastructure. The consequences are predictable. Steve Birkett of Plug & Play EV recently highlighted the problem in stark terms when he pulled into a Hyundai dealer in Union, New Jersey, and was charged an eye-popping $15 per kilowatt-hour to charge his IONIQ 5. That is not a typo. At that rate, a full charge on a typical EV would cost several hundred dollars — far exceeding what anyone would pay for gasoline on a per-mile basis.
Birkett’s complaint went well beyond pricing. He noted that many dealerships that list their chargers as public erect physical and psychological barriers to using them. Gates are locked after service hours even when the chargers remain operational. Signs and stickers are placed to discourage public use, and staff sometimes redirect drivers away from the ports in favor of charging inventory or service vehicles. Even among dealership groups that have made a genuine effort, such as some Ford locations participating in the Ford Charge network, the exceptions only underscore how widespread the failures are.
The Wild West of EV Charging Pricing
The problem is not limited to car dealers. A Reddit user named C1rcuitBoard recently posted about a visit to an MES-branded charging station in Sycamore, Illinois. They did not realize the pricing in the app was outdated until after the session ended and a bill for $671.60 appeared. When they contacted the company to ask whether the charge was a mistake, the company responded by sending the user a copy of its own power bill to defend the price. No refund was offered, and the company doubled down on the charge.
These incidents share a common root cause: the regulatory framework for EV charging is far less mature than the one governing gasoline stations. Gas stations are required in most states to post clear, legible pricing on signs visible from the street, with minimum letter heights that ensure drivers can see the price before they commit to filling up. EV charging stations, by contrast, often display pricing only inside a mobile app, and those prices can change without notice. The app may not reflect the current rate, or the rate may be structured in confusing ways — per minute, per kWh, or a combination that makes it nearly impossible to estimate the final cost before plugging in.
Without the same transparency requirements, charge point operators have wide latitude to set pricing that would be unthinkable at a gas pump. And because the victims are often first-time or infrequent EV drivers who do not yet know what a fair price looks like, the bad actors can exploit that inexperience repeatedly.
Public Money, Private Restrictions
Much of the charging infrastructure in the United States has been built with significant public subsidies. Federal programs through the National Electric Vehicle Infrastructure (NEVI) formula program, state-level incentives, and utility rebates have poured billions of dollars into deploying chargers that are supposed to serve the public. Yet many of those chargers sit behind gates, inside service bays, or on lots that are locked after 5 p.m. The disconnect between the stated purpose of these programs and the real-world access is widening, and it is eroding trust in the entire EV ecosystem.
Drivers who have been burned by a $15/kWh session or a $671 bill are unlikely to risk a repeat experience. They tell their friends, post their stories on social media, and the narrative that EVs are inconvenient and charging is a gamble gains traction. For an industry that is still working to overcome range anxiety and charging skepticism, this is a self-inflicted wound.
What a Truly Public Charger Should Look Like
It is time to establish clear ground rules for charging stations that are listed as public and that have received public funding. Four principles would go a long way toward fixing the problem.
Unfettered access. Any charger that accepts public incentives should be available for public use at least 16 hours per day. Inventory vehicles, service loaners, and fleet cars should be parked elsewhere. The public ports should be the priority, not the afterthought.
Transparent pricing. Every charger should display its per-kilowatt-hour price on an illuminated sign with digits between 16 and 24 inches tall, visible from the parking space before the driver plugs in. No more digging through an app to find the price. No more surprises after the session ends.
Cap energy markups. The profit margin on electricity sold at public chargers should be capped at a reasonable percentage above the actual cost of energy. Frequent audits should verify compliance, and operators who exceed the cap should face immediate penalties.
Aggressive clawback mechanisms. Incentive dollars should come with teeth. Any operator that fails to maintain the standards — including the uptime requirements already written into NEVI — should have its funding clawed back through utility bills, tax penalties, or another mechanism that cannot be avoided. A warning letter is not enough. The financial consequence must be real and swift.
A Call for Accountability
These rules would not stifle innovation or burden responsible operators. They would simply require that a charger marketed as public actually functions as public infrastructure. The dealership that keeps its gates open and its pricing fair would have nothing to fear. The one that locks its lot at 6 p.m. and charges $15/kWh would have to change its behavior or lose its subsidies.
The EV transition is moving too fast and the stakes are too high to let a minority of bad actors undermine confidence in the entire charging network. With the right regulatory framework, public chargers can serve the public reliably, transparently, and fairly. Without it, the frustration stories will keep multiplying, and every one of them will cost the EV industry a little more trust.
