Don't Draw
the Wrong Lessons from Better Place's Bust
By Ron
Adner –
The failure last month of green-tech start-up
Better Place, which promised to free drivers and nations from oil dependence
and revolutionize transportation, has generated both attention and derision.
But a blanket dismissal of its effort is a mistake. For entrepreneurs,
investors, and policy makers, there is plenty to learn from both the strategy
and the outcome.
There was good reason for the attention and funding (over $800
million) that Better Place attracted. While every other
player in the electric car space was focused on innovating individual pieces —
vehicles, batteries, charge spots — Better Place's strategy was unique in
innovating the larger puzzle to deliver an affordable drive-anywhere, anytime
solution. Its approach was the first to align the key actors in the ecosystem
in a way that addressed the critical shortcomings — range, resale value, grid
capacity — that undermine the electric car as a mass-market proposition. (Note
to Tesla owners: you are not the mass market).
Better Place's most visible and best-publicized innovation was its
switchable battery technology, a novel way to overcome the short-range limits
and long recharge times dictated by existing battery technology. Skeptics
initially doubted the engineering feasibility of fast battery switches, the
ability to roll out infrastructure on a national basis, and the willingness of
carmakers to come on board.
Renault came on board as the first (but ultimately
only) car manufacturing partner, and switch stations deployed along major
traffic routes successfully offered an almost-instant range extension that held
the promise of promoting the electric car from a secondary short-haul vehicle
to a primary, and possibly sole, family car.
Less touted but more important than the physical separation of the
battery from the car was Better Place's innovation of separating ownership of
the battery ownership and the car. EV advocates are quick to note that
technology improvements in batteries will one day eliminate the range problem.
What they often miss, however, is that these very same improvement will destroy
the resale value of used electric cars with older batteries. Since resale value
ranks high for mass market buyers, this has all the makings of a deal breaker.
Better Place's solution eliminated this risk. Instead of buying
batteries, consumers would buy subscriptions for miles (just as mobile-phone
operators sell subscriptions to minutes). Better Place would then use these
multi-year contracts to finance its infrastructure investments and battery
depreciation.
Finally, adding a service dimension to what had been a pure product sale
allowed Better Place to address the final roadblock to mass adoption of
electric cars: the generation and distribution of electricity itself. If just
5% of drivers in Los Angeles County were to attempt to charge their batteries
at the same time, they would threaten to bring down the power grid, adding a
load equivalent to two midsized power plants in an already strained system.
Better Place's model, which had the firm intermediating in real time between
utilities and drivers, allowed it to control the battery-charging load that
would be placed on the system at any given moment.
What Went Wrong?
The shallow answer is not enough customers. Better Place started selling
cars in Israel and Denmark in late 2012. By May 2013 it had sold fewer than
3,000 vehicles. A small number, but these are also small markets. In relative
market terms, the results looked less than dismal: in May, Better Place sales
accounted for 1% of cars sold in Israel, and its single available model, the
Renault Fluence ZE, was outselling Toyota's category leading Prius. Moreover,
Better Place's customer-satisfaction ratings were off the charts.
The deeper answer is not enough time to get enough customers. The clock,
which started ticking in 2007, ran out. Which begs the question of why it took
so long to get to market. Part of this time was spent, wisely, in perfecting
the technologies (battery switch, network management, in-car intelligence) that
would make the system run. Customer satisfaction is the testament to the success
of the technology.
Part of the time was spent in navigating the institutional
hurdles that inevitably accompany every attempt at doing something new (zoning
rules, insurance). But too much of this time was lost to wasteful efforts to
establish toeholds and run pilots in a slew of new geographies (e.g.,
Australia, the Netherlands, California, Hawaii, Japan, China and Canada) before
Better Place's two core markets, Israel and Denmark, had been secured.
When Better Place was founded, its strategy called for initial rollouts
in Israel and Denmark. These were inspired choices to prove the viability of
its strategy: They are small countries where gasoline is exceptionally
expensive and purchase taxes on gasoline-powered cars are very high. They are
superior to everyone else's target of California, where the high-end niche of
rich environmentalists is attractive but cheap gasoline, vast driving
distances, and an incredibly competitive car market undermine the appeal of
electric cars for mainstream buyers.
Despite their relatively small populations, the economics in Israel and
Denmark were such that even modest market success in just these two markets
would have yielded the attractive financial returns critical for investors.
Just as importantly, they would have yielded the meaningful sales volumes
critical for retaining and attracting partners, most importantly automakers.
But in my conversations with Better Place executives over the course of
the past three years, it was clear that the emphasis was shifting from "an
idea this novel needs to demonstrate unquestionable economic viability,"
to "an idea this good needs to be deployed across the world as fast as
possible." These were not opposing goals, but prioritizing the latter over
the former would have profound implications.
As Better Place pursued new geographies it used up its limited resources: money, management attention, and, most precious of all, the patience of its partners, especially Renault. In early May, Renault announced that it was scaling back its commitment to switchable battery cars and that the long-awaited second model, the Zoe compact that Better Place had counted on to complement the mid-sized Fluence, would not be coming after all. This vote of no confidence would make it infinitely harder for Better Place to line up new car manufacturers, without which it was dead in the water.
As Better Place pursued new geographies it used up its limited resources: money, management attention, and, most precious of all, the patience of its partners, especially Renault. In early May, Renault announced that it was scaling back its commitment to switchable battery cars and that the long-awaited second model, the Zoe compact that Better Place had counted on to complement the mid-sized Fluence, would not be coming after all. This vote of no confidence would make it infinitely harder for Better Place to line up new car manufacturers, without which it was dead in the water.
In February 2013, after a series of mismanaged leadership transitions
including the firing of founder and CEO Shai Agassi,
Better Place finally reversed course. It announced its exit from all
non-core markets to focus exclusively on Israel and Denmark. Within months of
the decision it had captured 1% market share in Israel, but by then it was too
late. It declared bankruptcy on May 26.
The tragedy is Better Place delivered on the most novel aspects of its
business model, succeeding in both technology development and aligning the
interests of the critical actors in the electric-car ecosystem. Its failure
lies in its own discipline and execution. Entrepreneurs, investors, and policymakers
should distinguish between the drivers of the failure and the elements that
carry the seeds of (someone else's) future success.
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