Even before the market chaos of the past six months, it was obvious that change was coming to the auto industry. SUVs were out, compacts were in, and hybrids were selling like hotcakes. Yielding to unprecedented consumer demand, manufacturers revived an old idea: the electric vehicle. This mythical car of the future has had more false starts than any other innovation in the history of the automobile—the most famous being GM’s EV1, the inspiration behind the hit documentary Who Killed the Electric Car? Released in 1996, the EV1 became something of a cult enviro-hit, but was discontinued four years later, spawning conspiracy theories about the influence of big oil. Now, virtually every major company is promising either a plug-in hybrid (like GM’s Chevy Volt) or a fully electric car (Nissan’s Nuvu), and the first mass-market versions are optimistically slated to arrive in 2010. In the race to develop a successful gas-free auto­mobile, first prize will be a dominant share of what the veteran industry analyst Dennis DesRosiers calls “one of the fastest-growing, highest-potential markets the auto sector has ever seen.”

The challenge for manufacturers is energy storage. Gas tanks are a surprisingly efficient way of carrying energy. Even cutting-edge lithium-ion batteries, which most carmakers are depending on for their proposed electric cars, provide about 20 times less energy per pound than gas. The huge battery packs required for a car of even average performance don’t leave much room for a back seat. The high cost of creating an energy-efficient battery explains why the Tesla Roadster, a sports car developed in Silicon Valley and already on the market, costs $109,000 (U.S.). A battery that can provide adequate range, speed and price all in one is the car industry’s Holy Grail, and at this point, no company has found one.

ZENN Motor Company, a small carmaker headquartered in Don Mills with a factory in Saint-Jérôme, just north of Mont­real, has a serious chance of being the first to complete the quest. ZENN, an acronym that stands for “zero emissions, no noise,” was founded by a Toronto entrepreneur named Ian Clifford back in 2001—a year after GM killed its EV1, and at a time when most companies were raking in outsize profits from outsize SUVs. That gave ZENN a head start over its rivals, and in 2006, it released an electric “low-speed vehicle,” a plug-in that can reach speeds of up to 40 kilometres per hour. But that was just a stepping stone toward the real goal: a fully functional, highway-approved car, fuelled by a revolutionary “ultra-capacitor” that replaces—and eclipses—the traditional battery. The so-called CityZENN will have a top speed of 125 kilometres per hour, a range of 400 kilometres on a single charge, and a phenomenal recharge time of less than five minutes. The estimated ticket price: $30,000.

At least, that’s the plan. EEStor, the well-connected but secretive Texas company that’s building the ultra-capacitor for ZENN, initially promised delivery in 2007, then 2008. Now it’s scheduled for late 2009, but time is running out. If ZENN doesn’t deliver a practical electric car soon, one of the other contenders will. The stakes are substantial: one analyst estimates that a working ultra-capacitor could bring ZENN $2 billion in annual revenue by 2013, making the 46-year-old Clifford an auto-industry legend. If it doesn’t happen, however, Clifford will likely be remembered in a much less glorified way—as the guy who crusaded to make modified golf carts legal on our streets.

The reason you’ve never heard of ZENN is that its cars can’t legally be driven in Toronto. The company has been stuck in a bureaucratic quagmire since it launched. According to Transport Canada, ZENN meets all of the safety criteria required of low-speed vehicles, or LSVs—which usually resemble souped-up golf carts. ZENN cars are not your typical LSV: they’re fully enclosed, and feature many of the same safety features as standard passenger cars. But ultimately, it’s up to each province to decide which vehicles are allowed on its roads, and Ontario has been slow to recognize the LSV class.

ZENN’s battle for approval has made the company a minor cause célèbre. The cars are already legal in 46 states and, as of this year, in Quebec and some parts of B.C. Ontario’s indecision has sparked outrage in newspapers and recently prompted Barry Taylor, a radio host on 102.1 The Edge, to urge listeners to bombard provincial transportation minister Jim Bradley with phone calls and e‑mails demanding an explanation.

In late October, Clifford took me for a cruise along the pothole-ridden streets of Saint-Jérôme. He has the laid-back air of a yoga instructor; nothing in his demeanour suggests someone who’s in a mad sprint against the auto giants. You have to be easygoing to drive his LSV. It functions just like an ordinary car until the government-mandated regulator kicks in at 40 kilometres per hour, at which point the vehicle simply stops accelerating, leaving your right foot slightly disoriented. There are other minor differences—a silent motor, the absence of power steering—but for the most part, it drives like any other car.

In 2004, Clifford secured a two-year exemption that allowed him to drive his low-speed electric prototype around Toronto. At the time, he was living in the Annex, working downtown, and taking night classes at York. He made out just fine. The average speed in the downtown core, he points out, is less than 20 kilometres per hour. “You can rarely get up to 50 on Bloor or Yonge,” he says. “Just try it.”