The Tesla Roadster is an electric car that goes fast, looks sensational and excites envy. The seductive appearance, however, obscures some inconvenient truths: its all-electric technology remains woefully immature and don't-even-ask expensive. If enough billionaires step forward to inject additional capital to keep the doors of its manufacturer, Tesla Motors, open, I'm happy for all parties.
If investors pass up the opportunity, however, why should taxpayers fork over the capital that Tesla needs? The Roadster is not much more than a functioning concept car that sells for $109,000. The company is requesting $400 million in low-interest U.S. loans as part of the $25 billion loan package for the auto industry passed by Congress last year.
The program is intended to encourage automakers to improve fuel efficiency, but should it be used for a purpose like this, as the 2008 Bailout of Very, Very High-Net-Worth Individuals Who Invested in Tesla Motors Act? Can you conceive any way that U.S. government dollars could be put at greater risk — and for no equity in return, keep in mind — to benefit fewer people?
Tesla Motors, a privately held company based in San Carlos, California, has spent almost all of the $145 million in capital it has raised to date. It says it will soon receive another round of $40 million from its private investors to sustain operations.
In the start-up ecosystem of Silicon Valley these would be respectably large numbers, but in the automotive world, fully developing an entirely new line of technology can easily run $1 billion. That is what General Motors' first attempt at an electric vehicle, the EV1, was estimated to have cost to develop in the 1990s.
If investors pass up the opportunity, however, why should taxpayers fork over the capital that Tesla needs? The Roadster is not much more than a functioning concept car that sells for $109,000. The company is requesting $400 million in low-interest U.S. loans as part of the $25 billion loan package for the auto industry passed by Congress last year.
The program is intended to encourage automakers to improve fuel efficiency, but should it be used for a purpose like this, as the 2008 Bailout of Very, Very High-Net-Worth Individuals Who Invested in Tesla Motors Act? Can you conceive any way that U.S. government dollars could be put at greater risk — and for no equity in return, keep in mind — to benefit fewer people?
Tesla Motors, a privately held company based in San Carlos, California, has spent almost all of the $145 million in capital it has raised to date. It says it will soon receive another round of $40 million from its private investors to sustain operations.
In the start-up ecosystem of Silicon Valley these would be respectably large numbers, but in the automotive world, fully developing an entirely new line of technology can easily run $1 billion. That is what General Motors' first attempt at an electric vehicle, the EV1, was estimated to have cost to develop in the 1990s.
Tesla says it cannot move forward on plans to bring out a second-generation car, a less expensive sedan seating five, without U.S. government funds. It's also counting on rapid improvements in the core component of its powertrain — a 1,000-pound, or 450-kilogram, pack of lithium-ion batteries — but such improvements don't happen at the pace Tesla needs them to happen.
Tesla's backers in Silicon Valley can be forgiven for hoping for a miraculous technical breakthrough, because Moore's Law makes miracles appear in the Valley every day: costs drop by half every two years, again and again and again. The law is actually a rule of thumb, not a scientific law, and is based on the recurring doubling of transistors placed on an integrated circuit.
Unfortunately for Tesla, batteries are based on chemistry and have nothing to do with Moore's Law. Lawrence Dubois, chief technology officer at ATMI, a semiconductor industry supplier, said, "With batteries, you can't just squeeze more energy into a smaller and smaller space the way you can squeeze more transistors."
Elon Musk, the chief executive of Tesla, said his company would benefit from what he called "a weak Moore's Law," referring to the 8 percent annual improvements in the price performance of lithium-ion batteries. But 8 percent, compounded, would bring too few benefits, too late to Tesla: it would take nine years to halve the price of its battery pack.
The company would not be saddled with such costly components had it not elected to pursue a design that endows its car with both high performance and a long range between charges — 244 miles, Tesla says. Earlier this month at the Los Angeles auto show, BMW unveiled its all-electric Mini E, with a smaller battery, a motor with about 20 percent less horsepower than Tesla's and a shorter range, 150 miles. BMW believes that current technologies used in the all-electric vehicles have not been tested enough in real conditions to be ready to be sold to the public. It will begin by leasing for one year a fleet of 500 Mini E's for $850 a month each. At the end of the lease term, the cars will be returned to BMW for testing.
Tesla would have needed a much smaller battery pack had it forsaken the all-electric design and instead offered a plug-in hybrid, a more affordable design that many auto manufacturers are readying for production, like that for the Chevrolet Volt. An electric motor provides the primary motive force, and a small internal combustion engine serves as an auxiliary source of power to extend the range that the car can go between charges. The battery need be no bigger than what is necessary to provide enough juice to go 40 miles, the maximum daily round-trip commuting distance for 78 percent of surveyed households, according to a widely quoted Department of Transportation study in 2003.
Tesla's backers in Silicon Valley can be forgiven for hoping for a miraculous technical breakthrough, because Moore's Law makes miracles appear in the Valley every day: costs drop by half every two years, again and again and again. The law is actually a rule of thumb, not a scientific law, and is based on the recurring doubling of transistors placed on an integrated circuit.
Unfortunately for Tesla, batteries are based on chemistry and have nothing to do with Moore's Law. Lawrence Dubois, chief technology officer at ATMI, a semiconductor industry supplier, said, "With batteries, you can't just squeeze more energy into a smaller and smaller space the way you can squeeze more transistors."
Elon Musk, the chief executive of Tesla, said his company would benefit from what he called "a weak Moore's Law," referring to the 8 percent annual improvements in the price performance of lithium-ion batteries. But 8 percent, compounded, would bring too few benefits, too late to Tesla: it would take nine years to halve the price of its battery pack.
The company would not be saddled with such costly components had it not elected to pursue a design that endows its car with both high performance and a long range between charges — 244 miles, Tesla says. Earlier this month at the Los Angeles auto show, BMW unveiled its all-electric Mini E, with a smaller battery, a motor with about 20 percent less horsepower than Tesla's and a shorter range, 150 miles. BMW believes that current technologies used in the all-electric vehicles have not been tested enough in real conditions to be ready to be sold to the public. It will begin by leasing for one year a fleet of 500 Mini E's for $850 a month each. At the end of the lease term, the cars will be returned to BMW for testing.
Tesla would have needed a much smaller battery pack had it forsaken the all-electric design and instead offered a plug-in hybrid, a more affordable design that many auto manufacturers are readying for production, like that for the Chevrolet Volt. An electric motor provides the primary motive force, and a small internal combustion engine serves as an auxiliary source of power to extend the range that the car can go between charges. The battery need be no bigger than what is necessary to provide enough juice to go 40 miles, the maximum daily round-trip commuting distance for 78 percent of surveyed households, according to a widely quoted Department of Transportation study in 2003.
Tesla pitches all-electric cars as the greenest form of personal transportation, eliminating vehicle emissions and helping to wean the United States from its dependence on foreign oil. The cars reduce air pollution indirectly, to whatever degree the power generation on the grid uses energy sources other than coal. And for households that install their own power-generating solar panels, electric cars can rightfully claim to attain truly zero emissions today.
Last week, I visited the Tesla showroom in Menlo Park, California, and took the Roadster out on the highway. As I headed back to the showroom and waited at red lights, ready to hit the accelerator and fly, I realized that I was experiencing a guilty pleasure derived not just from the speed available at my touch but also from temporarily possessing something that shouted to the world its exclusiveness.
Tesla says it is assembling about 15 cars a week and has delivered only about 80 to date. Many of those have gone to the Valley's billionaires and centimillionaires who are Tesla investors as well as early customers; these include Sergey Brin and Larry Page, the co-founders of Google, and Jeff Skoll, co-founder of eBay. The company's principal financier is Musk, who attained considerable wealth as a co-founder of PayPal.
I wonder how Tesla's course has been influenced by at least some of its investors being helplessly smitten by the world's quietest dragster.
Musk said: "I'm not doing this because I think the world has a shortage of sports cars." But his customers must be loaded with green in order to go green.
Randall Stross is an author based in Silicon Valley and a professor of business at San Jose State University. E-mail: stross@nytimes.com.
Last week, I visited the Tesla showroom in Menlo Park, California, and took the Roadster out on the highway. As I headed back to the showroom and waited at red lights, ready to hit the accelerator and fly, I realized that I was experiencing a guilty pleasure derived not just from the speed available at my touch but also from temporarily possessing something that shouted to the world its exclusiveness.
Tesla says it is assembling about 15 cars a week and has delivered only about 80 to date. Many of those have gone to the Valley's billionaires and centimillionaires who are Tesla investors as well as early customers; these include Sergey Brin and Larry Page, the co-founders of Google, and Jeff Skoll, co-founder of eBay. The company's principal financier is Musk, who attained considerable wealth as a co-founder of PayPal.
I wonder how Tesla's course has been influenced by at least some of its investors being helplessly smitten by the world's quietest dragster.
Musk said: "I'm not doing this because I think the world has a shortage of sports cars." But his customers must be loaded with green in order to go green.
Randall Stross is an author based in Silicon Valley and a professor of business at San Jose State University. E-mail: stross@nytimes.com.
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