Since its founding in 2003, Elon Musk's Tesla Motors has been a proud creature of Silicon Valley. That's to say a startup with outsize ambitions and a public disdain for business as usual—or at least as practiced by the dinosaurs in Detroit. On a tight budget, Tesla built an electric car, the Roadster, that's acclaimed for its harmonious balance of greenness, beauty, and performance. Tesla has 1,200 back orders for the $100,000 sports car, mostly from wealthy trendsetters.
But Musk, a software entrepreneur who made millions with PayPal (EBAY), has bigger aspirations: He dreams of one day producing a line of electric vehicles for every purse and purpose. A few weeks ago, Tesla seemed to be on the road to making that happen. Musk had verbal commitments for $100 million in private capital, federal loan guarantees geared at jump-starting development of alternative vehicles, and thoughts of going public next year.
TROUBLE AHEAD?
Then the world changed. On Oct. 11 Musk's financial advisers at Goldman Sachs (GS) called with bad news. Investors, fazed by the credit crunch, were suddenly demanding tougher terms. Musk organized bridge financing and poured more of his own money into Tesla. With $55 million-plus at stake, Musk, who is chairman, asked the CEO to step aside, and he took over that role. He began retrenching, laying off 80 of 380 people, cutting costs, and postponing Tesla's second model, the $60,000 Model S sedan. "We're taking action before we're forced to," Musk says.