‘True freedom is not having to own a car’: How Markus Villig created Bolt

His parents weren’t too happy about him dropping out of his university computer science course to devote himself to his techie start-up. “And what was even more difficult was persuading them to lend me a few thousand euros to hire an engineer,” says Markus Villig. I imagine they’re not too sorry they did, since their 26-year old son is founder and CEO of Bolt, the ride/drive platform, and they are now “probably the most successful investors in Estonia”.

The young Markus was brought up on an island in the Baltic Sea, but he and his parents moved to Tallinn, the capital, when he was eight. He was sure he was going to be a scientist. He was top in maths and physics. His dad had a degree in computing from the University of Moscow and his mum was a professor, and they convinced him that “logic and science were the path to world progress”.

And then something happened, in 2004, that completely changed his world view. It was called Skype – founded in Estonia, by a Swede, a Dane and several Estonians. It was the biggest thing to hit Estonia since the Reformation. Villig was aged 10 and his older brother was one of Skype’s first employees.

Soon Villig was reading – and being inspired by – Richard Branson’s account of the genesis of Virgin, Losing My Virginity. At 11 he made up his mind that he was better suited to the business world. He started mowing lawns for his neighbours. Then pretty soon it was building websites for local companies. “I realised that building websites was more intellectually challenging,” says Villig. “I still like to mow lawns though.”

He knew he had to run a company of his own and he was certain that it had to be tech-related. “Coming from a small country like Estonia, it couldn’t be something traditional like manufacturing.” He asked himself, how can you apply tech to the world to make a difference? He looked first at education. “But I realised it would be really hard to build a sustainable business – teachers don’t make enough money.” So his focus shifted to transportation. “So many things were broken, even if it was not as bad as some other countries.”

He spent months hanging around the taxi ranks in Tallinn asking drivers if they would like to work for him. “Ninety per cent of them took one look at me – I was still at school and had no money – and told me to get out of the car and went back to reading their newspapers.” Most people would have given up, but Villig was undaunted. He got around 50 drivers to sign up in principle and launched “Taxify” (which would evolve into Bolt) in the summer of 2013 when he was 19. He didn’t even have a driving licence himself – and still doesn’t. “We have a million drivers on the platform, so I don’t have to drive.”

He was driven by a fundamental insight. For perhaps the best part of a century, car makers have managed to convince people that owning your own car is synonymous with freedom. “But the new generation realised that true freedom is not having to own a car. Not paying insurance, not paying tax, not worrying about maintenance. You don’t need a garage either.”

Another point that Villig stresses is that if everyone buys their own car, we are all paying through the nose. “You have to pay retail price if it’s one person interacting with large companies. A big fleet is much cheaper. And it’s better for the environment too.”

In 2013 there was effectively no competition in Europe for what he was doing. “Uber back then was a premium hire platform,” he says. “We didn’t see them as competition.” Most people had been booking taxis over the phone. It was slow and inconvenient. “On Friday evenings it was an adventure. The drivers were rude and in short supply and they smoked in the cab. In Estonia in the winter you don’t want to wait outside for 30 minutes. And you had to have cash. The system was everything it should not be. There was a huge appetite for a better service.”

Bolt took off in Estonia and soon expanded into neighbouring Baltic countries and Poland and Finland. Villig had started his computer science course in the September of 2013 but he was forced to give it up in the following March when the business took over. He struck a deal with his parents: “I didn’t drop out. I took a year break. I’m still on it.” I imagine his parents haven’t complained too much.

Villig’s clear vision from the beginning was that his platform had to go global. “It has to be huge or it’s not worth it,” he says. He knew it had to go beyond the Baltic states. “I told everyone who came to work for me that it was going to be a tough journey. They weren’t going to get a lot of holidays. You need to prepare people for the bad days.”

After three years, they had to decide where to go next. The obvious path would be to expand into western Europe and the US. “But we realised that it wasn’t right for us,” says Villig. For one thing, there was more competition in those countries. “But we also thought that our service could add more value in eastern Europe and Africa. Where you have high unemployment, low car ownership and a broken transport system, we can make a bigger difference.”

They kicked off in South Africa, Nigeria and Kenya, and the service exploded in popularity. “Africa was close to our DNA,” says Villig. “We were the most frugal. We were more affordable, the cheapest, the most accessible – and it resonated. Our experience of Ukraine translated well into African countries. We out-executed Uber.”

Now Bolt has begun what Villig calls the “third wave”. They opened up in Portugal and London in early 2019. A lot of his staff are “just ordinary drivers”. Villig says it’s like doing B&B. “You’re renting out your car for an hour or two.” But he also thinks you can’t solve all urban problems with cars alone. In Nairobi, they offered motorbikes and mopeds. “They’re cheaper and they’re faster and you can dodge in and out of traffic. It gave us confidence that small and lighter was the way to go.” In Europe they’ve brought 100,000 electric scooters to the streets.

At present the UK prohibits electric scooters on public roads, but Markus Villig is confident the law will soon catch up with reality. “When you look at the fundamentals, how can it be more dangerous than a huge car? A scooter is close to a bicycle. It doesn’t weigh tons. We’re ready any time the law allows. The future is already here.”