If Tesla founder Elon Musk suggests something can be done, then given his track record it's best not to bet against him.
After all, this is the guy who thumbed his nose at those who said he couldn't design and build a world-class electric car (he did); nor build the world's biggest battery factory smack bang in a desert (he did); nor create a rocket company to re-supply the International Space Station (he did, and is).
So when Mr Musk tweets that Australia's new car fleet could be 50 per cent electric "in far fewer than 11 years", then we're strongly inclined to believe him.
There's a popular view that Mr Musk is only really in the battery business and that making electric cars was seen as the most effective way of marketing and leveraging that core business.
If so, then that's an even more impressive achievement because despite having build quality that would make a Mazda engineer blanch, the showpiece of the Tesla range, the Model S 100 D sedan, exceeds expectations as a luxury car.
Intentionally (we suspect), the $157,775 (on road costs included) Tesla four-door sedan looks Jetsons-like conventional so as not to frighten its target market too much.
It's designed to be timeless so an owner can live with it for 10 long years and save every last dollar on nil service costs and pay pocket change per recharge.
But we know that won't happen.
Within a few years, Mr Musk's key buyers, the so-called "early adopters" of the consumer world, would have moved onto something else. A self-driving drone for two, perhaps.
What do we like most about the Tesla? To be brutally honest, the fact that for a big four-door sedan, it goes like stink.
Faster than a half-million dollar Ferrari 458 sports car, in fact.
Keep your right foot planted and your lips begin to migrate toward your earlobes.
And it's both sure-footed and oh-so-quiet. Aside from a turbine-like sci-fi hum, there's little more to be heard than the wind rustling over the body.
Autopilot, Tesla's much-celebrated self-drive feature, is a $4300 option but every single person buys it because it's just so . . . well, Tesla.
The computer drives the nearside unnervingly close to the centreline but steers, brakes and accelerates up and down Canberra's dual carriageways with complete accuracy, chiding the driver with a reminder when hands are removed from the wheel for too long.
Just as the tinfoil hat types always suspected, Tesla cars silently communicate with each other, sharing information about our roads and our network.
It might sound like a strange sales pitch but the more Teslas there are on Canberra's roads, the more "learned" Autopilot becomes.
Sadly, the system doesn't yet recognise anything at the far end of the Majura Parkway. But then, neither do many of our politicians.
As you'd expect from a Silicon Valley sedan programmed by nerds, there's weirdness aplenty.
Activate "romantic" mode and a crackling log fire appears on the huge centre screen, accompanied by a crooning Barry Manilow (we kid you not).
With a generous 600km-ish range, there's little need to be too anxious.
Somewhere along the way - provided you don't venture too far into the sticks - there will be a Telsa supercharger, topping you up in all the time it takes for a leisurely latte and tweet to Mr Musk about how visionary he truly is.