Agassi picked up where Peres had left off on another question: Why start with Israel, of all places? The first reason was size, he told Ghosn. Israel was the perfect “beta” country for electric cars. Not only was it small but, due to the hostility of its neighbors, it was a sealed “transportation island.” Because Israelis could not drive beyond their national borders, their driving distances were always within one of the world’s smallest national spaces. This limited the number of battery swap stations Better Place would have to build in the early phase. By isolating Israel, Agassi told us with an impish smile, Israel’s adversaries had actually created the perfect laboratory to test ideas.
Second, Israelis understand not only the financial and environmental costs of being dependent on oil but also the security costs of pumping money into the coffers of less-than-savory regimes. Third, Israelis are natural early adopters—they were recently number one in the world in time spent on the Internet and have a cell phone penetration of 125 percent, meaning lots of people have more than one.
No less importantly, Agassi knew that in Israel he would find the resources he needed to tackle the tricky software challenge of creating a “smart grid” that could direct cars to open charging spots and manage the charging of millions of cars without overloading the system. Israel, the country with the highest concentration of engineers and research and development spending in the world, was a natural place to attempt this. Agassi actually wanted to go even further. After all, if Intel could mass-produce its most sophisticated chips in Israel, why couldn’t Renault-Nissan build cars there? Ghosn’s response was that it would work only if they could produce at least fifty thousand cars a year. Peres didn’t blink, and committed to an annual production of one hundred thousand cars. Ghosn was on board, provided Peres could make good on his promise.
Agassi was caught between three possible commitments. He needed a country, a car company, and the money, but to get any one of them he first needed the other two. For example, when Peres and Agassi had gone to then prime minister Ehud Olmert to secure his commitment to make Israel the first country to free itself from oil, the premier had set two conditions: Agassi had to sign on a top-five carmaker and raise the $200 million needed to develop the smart grid, turning half a million parking spaces into charging spots, and building swap stations. Now Agassi had the carmaker, and it was time to fulfill Olmert’s second condition: money.
Still, Agassi had heard enough to believe that his idea could take off. Stunning the tech world, he quit his job at SAP to found Better Place. (It took four conversations to convince the SAP management that he was serious about quitting.)
But investors around the globe were not jumping at a plan that involved reimagining some of the largest, most powerful industries
in the world: cars, oil, and electricity. Plus, since the cars were useless without the infrastructure, the charging grid
would have to be developed and deployed
Except for one investor, that is—Israeli billionaire Idan Ofer, who had just made the largest ever Israeli investment in China by buying a major stake in the Chinese car manufacturer Chery Automobile. Six months before, Ofer had also bought an oil refinery. So he knew a thing or two about the auto and oil industries. When Mike Granoff, an early American investor in Better Place, suggested tapping Ofer, Agassi said, “Why would he help me put him out of his two newest businesses?” But Agassi had nothing to lose.
Forty-five minutes into their meeting, Ofer told Agassi he was in for $100 million. He later increased his stake by another $30 million and told his Chinese auto team he wanted it to build electric cars.