For years, graphene was presented as the material that would change the world. Stronger than steel, lighter than paper, and a better conductor than copper. It seemed like the key to a new technological era: ultra-fast batteries, flexible displays, lighter airplanes, more powerful chips.
But, more than 20 years after its discovery, the reality is quite different: the great promises have not been fulfilled. Many of the companies created around this material have closed, and commercial applications remain few. What happened to the "material of the future"?
Graphene was discovered in 2004 by Andre Geim and Konstantin Novoselov at the University of Manchester, a discovery that earned them the Nobel Prize in Physics in 2010.
It is a sheet of carbon just one atom thick, arranged in a hexagonal structure. That simplicity hides enormous potential: it's 200 times stronger than steel, a superconductor of heat and electricity, and also flexible and transparent.
With such properties, it seemed inevitable that it would revolutionize entire sectors, from electronics to aviation. And yet, it hasn't happened.
The big problem isn't graphene's properties, but its manufacturing and handling. Producing pure graphene of uniform quality on a large scale and at low cost remains extremely difficult. Early techniques—such as mechanical exfoliation—were useful in the laboratory but unviable industrially.

Today, chemical and vapor deposition methods exist, but the results vary widely. And when a material can't be reproduced reliably and repeatedly, it can't be standardized or certified for commercial use.
This has limited its adoption in demanding sectors such as electronics and energy, where consistency is critical.
While enthusiasm in the West has waned, China has continued to invest heavily. The government declared it a national strategic material, created technological development zones, and channeled public and private investment to research its applications.
Today, China dominates global production and has found a more pragmatic approach: it's not looking for the "miracle graphene," but rather using it as an additive to improve existing materials.
For example, it's being used in:
. Batteries, to improve conductivity and lifespan.
. Electronic components, to optimize heat dissipation.
. Textiles and composites, to reinforce structures without adding weight.
These aren't spectacular applications, but they are profitable and scalable. Meanwhile, European and American companies continue to struggle to survive.
In Europe and the United States, graphene was greeted with a wave of investment enthusiasm. Dozens of startups promised an imminent technological revolution. But years passed, applications didn't arrive, and funding dried up.
Unlike China, where the state can sustain strategic projects for decades, Western companies rely on short-term profits. And when those benefits don't appear, the projects are shut down.
Today, graphene in the West remains more a topic of research than industrialization. Advances exist, but they haven't yet generated mass-market products.
Does graphene have a future? Yes, but probably a more discreet one than previously imagined.
Graphene remains an extraordinary material, but its revolution will be slow, technical, and silent, integrated into products we may not even know contain it.
China, once again, seems to have understood the game: not to wait for the big leap, but to advance step by step. And if their gamble pays off, in a few years we could discover that—once again—they have taken the technological lead and are many steps ahead.
Time will tell if graphene lives up, even partially, to the expectations it once aroused. But one thing is certain: I don't think its last word has been said.