in hearing about the Israeli leader’s utopian scheme to switch the world over to fully electric vehicles, and even if he had been, he wouldn’t dream of launching it in a tiny country like Israel. “Look, I’ve read Shai’s paper,” the auto executive told Peres, referring to the white paper Peres had sent with the invitation. “He’s fantasizing. There is no car like that. We’ve tried it, and it can’t be built.” He went on to explain that hybrid cars were the only realistic solution.

Shai Agassi was the younger man making the pitch alongside Peres. At the time, Agassi was an executive at SAP, the largest enterprise software company in the world. Agassi had joined the German tech giant in 2000, after it bought his Israeli start-up, TopTier Software, for $400 million. The sale had proved that though the tech bubble had just burst, some Israeli companies could still garner precrash values.

Agassi founded TopTier when he was twenty-four. Fifteen years later, he headed two SAP subsidiaries, was the youngest and only non-German member of SAP’s board, and had been short-listed for CEO. Even if he missed the ring at thirty-nine, he could be pretty confident that someday it would be his.

Yet here Agassi was, with the next president of Israel, trying to instruct an auto executive on the future of the auto industry. Even he was beginning to wonder if this entire idea was preposterous, especially since it had begun as nothing more than a thought experiment.

At what Agassi calls “Baby Davos”—the Forum for Young Leaders—two years before, he had taken seriously a challenge to the group to come up with a way to make the world a “better place” by 2030. Most participants proposed tweaks to their businesses. Agassi came up with an idea so ambitious that most people thought him naive. “I decided that the most important thing to do was to figure out how to take a single country off of oil,” he told us.

Agassi believed that if just one country was able to become completely oil-independent, the world would follow. The first step was to find a way to run cars without oil.

This alone was not a revolutionary insight.

He explored some exotic technologies for powering cars, such as hydrogen fuel cells, but they all seemed like they would forever be ten years away. So Agassi decided to focus on the simplest system of all: battery-powered electric vehicles. The concept was one that had been rejected in the past as too limiting and expensive, but Agassi thought he had a solution to make the electric car not just viable for consumers but preferable. If electric cars could be as cheap, convenient, and powerful as gas cars, who wouldn’t want one?

Something about coming from an embattled sliver of a country—home to just one one-thousandth of the world’s population—makes Israelis skeptical of conventional explanations about what is possible. If the essence of the Israeli condition, as Peres later told us, was to be “dissatisfied,” then Agassi typified Israel’s national ethos.

But if not for Peres, even Agassi might not have dared to pursue his own idea. After hearing Agassi make his pitch for oil independence, Peres called him and said, “Nice speech, but what are you going to do?”1

Until that point, Agassi says, he “was merely solving a puzzle”—the problem was still just a thought experiment. But Peres put the challenge before him in clear terms: “Can you really do it? Is there anything more important than getting the world off oil? Who will do it if you don’t?” And finally, Peres added, “What can I do to help?”2

Peres was serious about helping. Just after Christmas 2006 and into the first few days of 2007, he orchestrated for Agassi a whirlwind of more than fifty meetings with Israel’s top industry and government leaders, including the prime minister. “Each morning, we would meet at his office and I would debrief him on the previous day’s meetings, and he’d get on the phone and begin scheduling the next day’s meetings,” Agassi told us. “These are appointments I could never have gotten without Peres.”

Peres also sent letters to the five biggest automakers, along with Agassi’s concept paper, which was how they found themselves in a Swiss hotel room, waiting on what was likely to be their last chance. “Up until that first meeting,” Agassi said, “Peres had only heard about the concept from me, a software guy. What did I know? But he took a risk on me.” The Davos meetings were the first time Peres had personally tested the idea on people who actually worked in the auto industry. And the first industry executive they’d met had not only shot down the idea but spent most of the meeting trying to talk Peres out of pursuing it. Agassi was mortified. “I had completely embarrassed this international statesman,” he said. “I made him look like he did not know what he was talking about.”

But now their second appointment was about to begin. Carlos Ghosn, the CEO of Renault and Nissan, had a reputation in the business world as a premier turnaround artist. Born in Brazil to Lebanese parents, he is famous in Japan for taking charge of Nissan, which was suffering massive losses, and in two years turning a profit. The grateful Japanese reciprocated by basing a comic-book series on his life.

Peres began to speak so softly that Ghosn could barely hear him, but Agassi was astounded. After the pounding they had just received in the previous meeting, Agassi expected that Peres might say something like, “Shai has this crazy

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