Philipp Schröder arrives at brunch and immediately asks if we’ve met before.
We have, I remind him. Most recently at his company’s Berlin-based research and development lab, where he gave me a tour last summer.
“Oh yes, I was showing you around in the hope of getting some friendly press,” says the cofounder and CEO of 1Komma5, perhaps Germany’s best-known climate tech company.
1Komma5 has an easy time making headlines. The company, which offers a range of home energy products — solar panels, heat pumps, batteries and EV chargers— reached unicorn status within two years of launching. It has since raised a total of €400m in equity and expanded into five European countries and Australia, employing 2,500 people worldwide.
Known for sparking debates and publicly sparring with critics, competitors and journalists on LinkedIn, where he has over 83k followers, Schröder’s own public profile has steadily grown.
We meet at the swanky French brasserie inside Hamburg’s hotel Tortue. With black-and-white checked floors and a leafy balcony overlooking a courtyard, it’s one of Schröder’s favourite dinner spots. He’s even on a first-name basis with some of the waiters, one of whom will later give us our drinks on the house.
Over brunch, our conversation moves from Schröder's rural upbringing and his time working under Elon Musk, to the labour of building, and protecting, a company brand.
Growing up in the hinterland
Schröder recounts his life story with the confidence and good humour of a seasoned raconteur.
He grew up on an organic farm in a village of less than 30 people in the Lüneberg Heath, Lower Saxony. As part of his rural education, his parents gave him and his two siblings an animal each to care for. Schröder recalls his pet, a pot-bellied pig named Miss Sophie, fondly.
Schröder was exposed to heated debates early on, as the family farm was situated close to a nuclear waste site. As a teenager he was an activist in the anti-nuclear power movement that began in the 1970s and peaked, he says, in the 2000s. He recalls demonstrations often turning violent, with some leading to arrests. The experience would propel him towards a career in sustainable energy.
As oil prices rose in the summer of 2007, he cofounded Nycon Energy to replace oil heating in buildings with gas. The 24-years-old Schröder, enrolled on a legal studies degree at the time, dropped out to focus on the business.
“Everybody thought we’d reach peak oil and it would become more and more expensive,” Schröder recalls. Then the US invented fracking which unlocked huge reserves, helping it become the world’s largest oil producer today. “Nobody saw that coming,” he says.
It was an early reminder how quickly energy markets can shift. “What fascinated me was to see how dependent we are on oil and how the economy was suffering back then,” says Schröder. “Everything is connected to energy, and not just climate but the economy too.”
The waiter interrupts to take our orders. Given it's 11am and I haven’t had breakfast yet, I order my scrambled eggs on toast with avocado with some urgency.
Schröder muses over the various options. “The wise choice would be something light, the better choice would be something really nice,” he says, scanning the menu. He eventually opts for an omelette with all the trimmings.
Meeting Elon Musk
Our conversation turns to Schröder’s time working under Elon Musk — something I assumed he wouldn’t want to discuss, given how regularly he must be asked about it. To my surprise, he’s quite open.
Musk recruited Schröder from Allgäu-based solar storage manufacturer Sonnen in 2013, where he was director of sales and business development, to build up the company’s German business. Back then, Tesla only had one manufacturing plant in Fremont, California and the Model S had just been released a year prior.
“It was too cool to say no. Even then you knew, that’s going to be sick shit,” says Schröder, adding that he knew he wanted to have the job immediately after a first spin in a Tesla.
I ask what his first impression of Musk was. “My issue was I could not connect with him at all; there was no human connection. Like, there’s a connection of exchanging information, but there’s no empathy at all,” says Schröder.
There were some qualities he admired in the world’s richest man; things he admits trying to emulate in his own leadership. “He always has a very clear idea what the KPIs are, he pushes you towards those and asks you everyday: what do you need to make it happen?”
During his time as country manager for Germany and Austria, Schröder hired 150 people and opened six Tesla branches, regularly clocking 90 hours a week. He admits the work culture was “brutal”.
“I would always say the thought school of Elon is super effective — laser-focused and ruthless. But I would not like to contribute my life to it because it also made me completely unhappy.”
Comparing himself to Musk, Schröder says he’s much more collaborative and enjoys being surrounded by a team.
“In my view great management teams are like the Beatles, they are always better than just one,” says Schröder. “I love the example of Queen. Freddie Mercury was enabled by an environment. I need that. I couldn’t be solitary like Elon.”
A labour of LinkedIn
Does that mean that Schröder is good at taking criticism? “Criticism in itself is worth nothing,” he replies. “The art of any leader is thinking about who you invite to give direct feedback and what you take to heart.”
His philosophy extends to LinkedIn, where Schröder often battles with those who critique 1Komma5.
“I will always engage if somebody publicly criticises the brand,” he says. “I think it's my obligation to always react […] because it gives a signal to my team as well. We want to be radical about protecting the brand and about customer feedback.”
1Komma5’s preliminary figures for 2024 show the company increased revenue from €450m in 2023 to €520m last year.
But when German publication Gründerszene suggested in a December article that 1Komma5’s 2024 revenue was below forecasts, Schröder hit back. He posted a “counterstatement" on LinkedIn and called the outlet “tabloid media.” The spat went viral by German tech standards.
Schröder admits he posted a comment via the 1Komma5 account, calling Gründerszene “journalistically bankrupt”.
“Germany is very hostile to innovation,” says Schröder, explaining why it got to him so much. “We have built a €500m profitable business in less than four years. We are the only unicorn in Hamburg. And yet, we are not celebrated in Germany. People look at you and say, something has to be off.”
Schröder also replies personally — and speedily— to customers tagging him with product issues. But isn’t all this time online exhausting?
“It is intense,” he admits, “and sometimes I'm also overshooting because I really identify with the brand.”
Relations with Enpal
Our food has long arrived, but we’re both too polite to eat. Schröder nudges me to tuck into my scrambled eggs, before turning to 1Komma5's longstanding rivalry with solar energy unicorn Enpal.
The two have often been pitted against each other, with Schröder occasionally trading jabs with Enpal CEO Mario Kohle on LinkedIn.
Despite such hostilities, Schröder and Kohle recently posed a united front in a piece in German press, discussing the issues with Germany’s energy markets.
Have relations improved, I ask? Schröder dodges the question.
“Enpal underestimated our capabilities when we arrived on the scene. We were founded in 2021 but somehow arrived in the market in 2022. They were going crazy. They had the perfect setup for a solar storm on the positive growth side,” he says. “I think they simply didn't think that what we were saying could eventually work out and be true. I think we annoyed them.”
Schröder no longer sees Enpal as a prime competitor, pointing out the models have always been different. 1Komma5 sells solar systems outright, while Enpal began with rentals. “That’s the first issue I had with Mario. I publicly said the rental business is screwing customers,” he says.
1Komma5 has since expanded beyond solar, which accounts for less than half its orders, helping it weather the downturn of last year when demand for solar systems plummeted. The other 50% of customer orders are heat pumps and air conditioning.
Its focus is Heartbeat AI, a sort of smart energy brain connecting a household’s batteries, heat pumps and charging technology together. It allows customers to store energy when the price is low and use it when the price is higher.
With his sales hat on, Schröder says Heartbeat AI gives customers the “lowest electricity cost possible” and once they see that, they’ll never return to conventional utilities. It sounds like a good pitch, but is it true?
Schröder explains how 1Komma5 was recently sued in a Hamburg court by a competitor for a slogan suggesting it offers “free electricity.” 1Komma5 won the case, but voluntarily changed its marketing to “electricity almost for free.”
There were other instances where the company had to alter some of its marketing. In November 2024, the German Competition Authority took issue with a flyer claiming it could offer “free electricity” for households in Braunschweig which it argued was misleading. In response, 1Komma5 altered the wording to “virtually free electricity”.
Getting political
Business aside, I ask Schröder if he’d ever consider a career in politics, given he was such an outspoken supporter for the Christian Democratic Union (on LinkedIn no less) in the run-up to February’s election.
The answer to my question is a definite “no”.
Why? Because being a politician means pushing an agenda you don’t necessarily think is right, but that will help you win an election, he says. “The incentive is completely wrong.”
That doesn’t stop him from prescribing ways Germany could kickstart its sluggish economy. To boost productivity, the nation could loosen its rigid 40-hour work week cap, allowing employers like 1Komma5 to offer optional 60-hour contracts with higher pay and, ideally, lower tax.
Schröder himself works between 60 and 72 hours a week, always keeping Saturdays free to spend time with his wife and children. “I’m a workaholic. So it gives me identity. It gives me control. I enjoy it,” he admits, though he also had to learn his limits, knowing when to pull back to not burnout.
The CEO’s seeming unabashed confidence makes me wonder if he ever doubts himself.
“Yes, all the time. I’m going to therapy in…” he glances at his watch and discovers we’re 30 mins over our allotted hour.
Springing from his seat, he shakes my hand, thanks me for my time and disappears out the door. The restaurant has gone quiet, save for a couple on the balcony cracking open a bottle of champagne in the midday sun.
Later, when I apologise over WhatsApp for making him late, Schröder replies with a smiley face: “We lost track of time. That’s a good sign!”
The top image accompanying this article was created using ChatGPT.
