Start-up Nation

“I’ll give you an analogy from an entirely different perspective,” Tal Riesenfeld told us matter-of-factly. “If you want to know how we teach improvisation, just look at Apollo. What Gene Kranz did at NASA—which American historians hold up as model leadership—is an example of what’s expected from many Israeli commanders in the battlefield.” His response to our question about Israeli innovation seemed completely out of context, but he was speaking from experience. During his second year at Harvard Business School, Riesenfeld launched a start-up with one of his fellow Israeli commandos. They presented their proposal at the Harvard business plan competition and beat out the seventy other teams for first place.⁸

After graduating from HBS at the top of his class, Riesenfeld turned down an attractive offer from Google in order to start Tel Aviv–based Eyeview. Earlier, Riesenfeld had made it through one of the most selective recruitment and training programs in the Israeli army.

While he was at HBS, Riesenfeld studied a case that compared the lessons of the Apollo 13 and Columbia space shuttle crises.⁹ The 2003 Columbia mission has a special resonance for Israelis. One of its crew members—air force colonel Ilan Ramon, the first Israeli astronaut—was killed when Columbia disintegrated. But Ramon had been an Israeli hero long before. He was a pilot in the daring 1981 air force mission that destroyed Iraq’s nuclear facility, Osirak.

HBS professors Amy Edmondson, Michael Roberto, and Richard Bohmer spent two years researching and comparing the Apollo and Columbia crises. They produced a study that became the basis for one of Riesenfeld’s classes, analyzing the lessons learned from a business-management perspective. When Riesenfeld first read the HBS case, in 2008, the issues it presented were immediately familiar to the ex-commando. But why had Riesenfeld mentioned the case to us? What was the connection to Israel, or to its innovation economy?

The Apollo 13 crisis occurred on April 15, 1970, when the spaceship had traveled three-fourths of the way to the moon. It was less than a year after Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin had stepped off Apollo 11. NASA was riding high. But when Apollo 13 was two days into its mission, traveling two thousand miles per hour, one of its primary oxygen tanks exploded. This led astronaut John Swigert to utter what has by now become a famous line: “Houston, we’ve had a problem.”

The flight director, Gene Kranz, was in charge of managing the mission—and the crisis—from the Johnson Space Center in Houston. He was immediately presented with rapidly worsening readouts. First he was informed that the crew had enough oxygen for eighteen minutes; a moment later that was revised to seven minutes; then it became four minutes. Things were spiraling out of control.

After consulting several NASA teams, Kranz told the astronauts to move into the smaller lunar extension module, which was designed to detach from Apollo for short subtrips in space. The extension module had its own small supply of oxygen and electricity. Kranz later recalled that he had to figure out a way to “stretch previous resources, barely enough for two men for two days, to support three men for four days.”

Kranz then directed a group of teams in Houston to lock themselves in a room until they could diagnose the oxygen problem and come up with ways to get the astronauts back into Apollo and then home. This was not the first time these teams had met. Kranz had assembled them months in advance, in myriad configurations, and practice drills each day had gotten them used to responding to random emergencies of all shapes and sizes. He was obsessed with maximizing interaction not only within teams but between teams and NASA’s outside contractors. He made sure that they were all in proximity during training, even if it meant circumventing civil service rules barring contractors from working full-time on the NASA premises. Kranz did not want there to be any lack of familiarity between team members who one day might have to deal with a crisis together.

Three days into the crisis, Kranz and his teams had managed to figure out creative ways to get Apollo back to earth while consuming a fraction of the power that would typically be needed. As the New York Times editorialized, the crisis would have been fatal had it not been for the “NASA network whose teams of experts performed miracles of emergency improvisation.”¹⁰