The Truth About Google X: An Exclusive Look Behind the Secretive Lab's Closed Doors

Astro Teller is recounting an event that could be seen as either bad or good. At Google X, it’s not always easy to tell the difference.

Teller, who oversees daily operations at the search giant’s highly secretive innovation lab, is always on the lookout for unconventional solutions to big global issues. Though he’s not the president or chairman, his official title – etched onto a glass business card – is Captain of Moonshots. "Moonshots" is his term for bold, high-risk innovations that may seem unlikely to succeed but could change the world if they do.

It’s evening in Mountain View, California, and over dinner in a busy restaurant, Teller, 43, reflects on a tough conversation he had earlier that day. He had to deliver some difficult news to his bosses, Google co-founder Sergey Brin and CFO Patrick Pichette. "It was a complicated meeting," he admits, sighing. His message? One of the teams was struggling, adjustments were necessary, and those changes wouldn’t come cheap. His financial team had concerns, and so did he. But after listening, Pichette simply responded, "Thanks for letting me know right away. We’ll make it work."

At first, it seems like Teller is pointing out how Google X has an unusually high tolerance for setbacks – a mindset encouraged by the company's extraordinary success and profitability, along with its leadership’s passion for innovation. But there’s more to the story. Outside the Google X offices, a slackline is strung between two trees. After the meeting, the three men went outside, took off their shoes, and spent 20 minutes trying to walk across it. Pichette managed to move back and forth with ease, Brin was slightly less skilled, and Teller struggled the most. They all fell repeatedly, laughed, and got back up.

The slackline isn’t particularly high, just groin level, but the scene, according to Teller, looked like something out of a fail video. And that’s exactly his point. "When these guys are willing to stumble, groan, and get back up – and they're doing it in their socks?" He leans back and lets the thought settle. This, he suggests, is what Google X is all about. When the people at the top embrace failure in plain sight, it gives everyone else permission to do the same.

Astro Teller is recounting an event that could be seen as a setback or a success. At Google X, distinguishing between the two isn’t always straightforward.

Teller oversees the daily operations at Google’s highly secretive innovation lab, which focuses on finding unconventional solutions to major global challenges. While he isn’t the president or chairman of the division, his official title, proudly displayed on his etched-glass business card, is Captain of Moonshots. He refers to “moonshots” as daring projects with a low probability of success but the potential to change the world if they succeed.

It’s evening in Mountain View, California. The restaurant is buzzing with conversation as Teller recalls a challenging moment from earlier that day. He had to deliver tough news to his superiors, Google co-founder Sergey Brin and CFO Patrick Pichette. "It was a complicated meeting," he admits, letting out a sigh. One of the teams was struggling, adjustments were necessary, and the changes wouldn’t come cheap. Both Teller and his financial team were concerned. But Pichette simply listened and responded, "Thanks for telling me right away. We’ll make it work."

At first glance, this exchange highlights how Google X fosters an environment where setbacks are tolerated – thanks in part to the leadership’s passion for innovation and the company’s incredible financial success. But there’s more to the story. Outside the Google X offices, a slackline stretches between two trees. After their discussion, the three men stepped outside, kicked off their shoes, and spent 20 minutes attempting to walk across it. Pichette moved across with ease, Brin was slightly less steady, and Teller struggled the most. Each of them fell repeatedly, laughed, and tried again.

The slackline isn’t particularly high, but the moment itself was significant. Teller later describes the scene as something straight out of a fail video. And that, in his view, sums up what Google X is all about. When those at the top embrace failure openly, it gives everyone else permission to do the same.

At Google X, failure isn’t the objective, but it’s an essential part of the process. By the time Teller and I talk, I’ve spent most of the day inside his lab – a place no journalist has been allowed to explore before. Throughout the morning and afternoon, I’ve moved through various workspaces, speaking with members of the Rapid Evaluation Team, also known as Rapid Eval. Their job? To rigorously test ideas, trying everything possible to break them apart.

Rapid Eval is where innovation at Google X begins, but the approach is more about eliminating ideas than endorsing them. The atmosphere sometimes feels like a culture of failure, where the goal is to discard bad ideas quickly rather than hold onto them for too long. As Rich DeVaul, the head of Rapid Eval, puts it, "Why delay failure until next week if you can fail today?"

During dinner, Teller shares that when someone in a group meeting acknowledges a mistake or admits defeat, he sometimes gives them a hug. At Google X, failure isn’t just accepted – it’s encouraged as a necessary step toward breakthrough success.

If X operates under a guiding principle, it’s that bringing together a diverse mix of unconventional thinkers offers the best chance of creating solutions for the world's toughest problems. However, as Teller describes it, Google X itself is an experiment – an attempt to reshape how a corporate lab operates. The approach involves taking massive risks across multiple technologies and allowing the lab to explore ideas far beyond Google’s core business. Whether this will be seen as brilliance or recklessness remains to be seen. There’s no historical model to compare it to – what’s happening here is entirely without precedent.

That lack of precedent makes sense in many ways. Google is at a unique point in history, with an abundance of resources, top-tier talent, and unparalleled influence. At the same time, computing power, artificial intelligence, and global connectivity are advancing at an unprecedented rate, forming what many in the industry call the second machine age. The company is also eager to develop a new pillar of success beyond its search empire. So why not take that leap with X?

For Teller, this lab that embraces failure is simply filling a gap. Small startups lack the funding for high-risk, high-reward ideas. Large corporations fear upsetting shareholders. Governments struggle with limited budgets and political resistance, where failure can quickly turn into a scandal. In today’s world, when it comes to moonshot innovation, "Everyone assumes it’s someone else’s responsibility," Teller says.

It’s important to recognize that X’s projects aren’t purely about changing the world – they also have strategic business benefits. Self-driving cars will likely reduce accidents, but they also give passengers more time to browse the web. Wi-Fi balloons could connect underserved communities, but they would also introduce millions of new users to Google services. Still, the ideas emerging from X are undeniably ambitious. When asked why Google is investing in X rather than focusing on projects more aligned with Wall Street expectations, Teller dismisses the question with a grin. "Why choose?" he says. "Why not do both?"

Google X sits on the outskirts of Google's main campus, occupying a few three-story red-brick buildings. There’s no sign out front, nor is there an official website. "What would we even put on a website?" Teller jokes. The main entrance leads into a small, self-serve coffee bar, setting a modern yet minimalistic tone. The decor leans industrial and simple. To the left, a large open workspace holds rows of cubicles and conference rooms. To the right, a bike rack stands next to the lunchroom, where a strict "X employees only" sign is posted. Beyond that, there’s little to indicate this is one of the most secretive labs in the world. The real work happens downstairs, in high-ceilinged workshops with names like "Castle Grayskull", where teams tinker with electronics and hunch over laptops.

X traces its origins back to 2009 when Google co-founders Sergey Brin and Larry Page envisioned a role called Director of Other – someone responsible for ideas beyond Google’s core search business. That concept evolved into Google X in 2010, driven largely by Google engineer Sebastian Thrun's ambitious push to create a self-driving car. As X took shape, Thrun led the project, bringing Astro Teller on board as one of his co-directors. However, as Thrun became more focused on the driverless car initiative (and later, his online education startup, Udacity), he stepped away from overseeing other X projects, leaving Teller to take over daily operations.

The meaning behind the X is open to interpretation. Initially, it was just a placeholder, but today, it symbolizes projects that aim to be 10 times better than existing solutions. Some team members see it differently, believing it represents technologies designed to make a massive impact within the next decade.

This approach is rare in today’s corporate landscape. Decades ago, large companies regularly allocated a portion of their R&D budget to bold, long-term research. However, an increasing focus on quarterly profits has made such investments rare. Most companies now prefer short-term projects, buying rights to university research or acquiring startups instead of funding their own high-risk experiments. While Google and X occasionally take this approach – such as when they acquired wind-energy company Makani – they often reject conventional business wisdom in favor of developing their own radical ideas and nurturing them over time.

Recently, when Larry Page was questioned during an earnings call about the large sums being poured into long-term research, he stood firm. Instead of justifying the spending, he turned the question around, stating that his real challenge was getting people to invest in ambitious, long-term R&D. With Google's immense financial success, he argued, shouldn't the conversation be about making more bold investments, not fewer?

Google X projects generally follow three core principles. Each must tackle an issue that impacts millions – preferably billions – of people. Each must involve a bold, almost sci-fi-like solution. And each must rely on technologies that are currently available or nearly within reach. However, according to Rich DeVaul, the head of Rapid Eval, there's a deeper principle that ties these together: No idea should be incremental.

DeVaul acknowledges that the idea of taking huge risks has become an overused Silicon Valley cliché. But for X, rejecting small, gradual improvements isn’t about ideology – it’s about practicality. "Almost anything is difficult to accomplish," he explains. "Even getting out of bed can feel hard some days. But tackling a problem that is twice or even ten times as large isn’t necessarily twice or ten times as difficult."

He argues that, in many cases, focusing on massive challenges is more productive than squeezing small, incremental gains out of existing ideas. Take automobiles, for example. Designing a car that gets 80 miles per gallon would require an enormous effort, yet it wouldn’t fundamentally solve issues like fuel consumption and emissions. But aiming for 500 miles per gallon forces a completely different approach. Instead of refining traditional vehicle designs, engineers would need to rethink the concept of the car itself. They might explore alternative fuels, radically lightweight materials, or even entirely new transportation systems. By stepping away from existing models, the possibility of creating something truly groundbreaking increases.

DeVaul leans back in his chair in a large ground-floor conference room at X, where he’s gathered with his team to demonstrate how Rapid Eval discussions work. Seated with him are Dan Piponi and Mitch Heinrich, two colleagues who offer contrasting intellectual styles. Piponi, a British mathematician and theoretical physicist, is soft-spoken and reserved – yet even at Google X, he’s considered extraordinarily intelligent. Heinrich, the team’s lead designer, carries a relaxed, art-school energy.

Heinrich has taken the initiative to create a fully equipped fabrication shop, known as the design kitchen, filled with 3D printers, lathes, and woodworking tools in a separate building next to the main X lab. He places a plastic bin full of old eyeglass frames on the table. "These were some of the early prototypes for Glass," he explains, pulling out circuit boards and some particularly unattractive designs. While they were never meant for consumers, they proved that the concept could be built, giving the team confidence in their vision.

At 43, Rich DeVaul rounds out the trio. Holding a PhD from MIT, he spent several years at Apple before joining Google X. Pinning down exactly what he studied can be a challenge – his background blends design, physics, anthropology, and machine learning. This mix of disciplines makes him a fast talker on an astonishing range of topics, from crime and robotics to materials science and artificial intelligence. In fact, it was DeVaul who originally came up with Project Loon, the initiative behind Google's Wi-Fi balloons. He made multiple attempts to prove the concept wouldn’t work but failed to do so. With no major obstacles blocking the idea, he ran the project for about a year before returning to his role at Rapid Eval.

Watching DeVaul’s team at work is a bit like observing an improv session – ideas are tossed around quickly, analyzed in real-time, and refined or discarded on the spot. Most Rapid Eval sessions involve about six people, including DeVaul, Dan Piponi, and Mitch Heinrich (with Astro Teller sometimes joining in). They meet for weekly lunches to discuss new suggestions, some originating from within Google X, others coming from Google leadership or outside experts. The best ideas move on to a formal review later in the week. At this stage, the team assesses three main factors:

• The scale of the problem – How many people would it impact?
• Technical feasibility – Can it actually be built?
• Social feasibility – If built, would people adopt and use it?

Thinking through potential roadblocks early is crucial because the challenges aren’t just technical – many are cultural and legal. For example, driverless cars still face complicated legal and infrastructure questions, while Google Glass has stirred privacy concerns. If an idea survives this scrutiny and remains intriguing, the next step is for Piponi or Heinrich to build a quick prototype, ideally within a few days. If the prototype proves promising, it moves up the chain for possible approval as an official Google X project. However, that rarely happens. "It’s incredibly difficult to reach the point where something becomes a full Google X project," DeVaul explains. And even after making it that far, many ideas are still abandoned before ever reaching the public.

Some challenges are obvious from the start. DeVaul points to Project Loon, which tackled the lack of reliable internet access for two-thirds of the world’s population. Other challenges are harder to grasp at first. He compares them to explaining smartphones to someone from the pre-smartphone era – if you tried to predict their impact back then, it would have seemed impossible. This kind of forward-thinking perspective led to projects like Google Glass, designed around the idea that one day, wearable technology will feel as natural as smartphones do now.

At this point in our conversation, we shift to more ambitious concepts—including hoverboards and space elevators.

DeVaul, an avid skateboarder, had long imagined a real hoverboard. "I just wanted one," he says with a shrug. When he pitched the idea, even he admitted it sounded ridiculous. "If an idea is completely off-the-wall, it's probably mine," he jokes. But the group saw practical applications. In industrial settings, frictionless movement could transform warehouses, making it possible to levitate and transport heavy materials with ease. "Imagine an Amazon fulfillment center where pallets float instead of rolling," DeVaul suggests. "Or a lab where heavy equipment moves to you instead of the other way around."

"Dan, show him the hoverboard," Heinrich interjects.

Piponi, a theoretical physicist, clears his throat and presents a small, metallic rectangle. A series of circular magnets cover its surface. "The first question is simple," he says. "Can you actually make an object hover?" Magnetic levitation has already been used for high-speed trains in China and Japan, but those systems require stabilizing structures to keep the trains moving in a single direction. For a hoverboard, there’s no track – it needs to remain balanced on an open surface.

The biggest challenge? Magnets naturally shift polarities, meaning a hoverboard would constantly flip over as it moved. Any skateboarder would know what that means: a disaster waiting to happen. But this type of challenge is exactly what X is built for.

"There are loopholes in these physics problems," Piponi says. "Certain materials behave in strange ways." One such material is a specific type of graphite, which allows for stable levitation over a magnetic bed. To test the concept, Piponi built a miniature hoverboard. He slides it across the table – it glides effortlessly, hovering just above the surface. When DeVaul saw it for the first time, he was blown away.

But even the most exciting ideas aren’t always practical. When Piponi tried scaling the hoverboard up, he ran into physics problems. The weight of a full-sized version would collapse the magnetic cushion, making levitation impossible. Other options – like supercooled materials – might work, but they would be costly and complex. In the end, the hoverboard was shelved.

"When we move on from an idea, it’s not failure," DeVaul explains. "It just means we’re free to work on something else."

One of those other ideas? Space elevators – a concept long rumored to be on Google X’s radar.

"You know what a space elevator is, right?" DeVaul asks. The concept involves a cable stretching from Earth to a space station tens of thousands of miles up. This sci-fi vision could revolutionize space travel, making it far cheaper and more accessible. Instead of rockets, ships could clip onto the cable and ascend gradually, one going up as another comes down.

While the idea sounds promising, there’s a major issue: materials. The cable would need to be exceptionally strong – at least 100 times stronger than the strongest steel available. One possible solution? Carbon nanotubes. Unfortunately, no one has successfully produced a perfect carbon nanotube strand longer than a meter. Without a breakthrough in materials science, the project had to be put on hold.

This limitation is why Google X doesn’t pursue ideas that rely on future advancements in materials. Electronics, however, are different – computing power improves predictably, thanks to Moore’s Law. That’s why X can confidently expect Google Glass to become less bulky and more refined over time. But with new materials, breakthroughs could happen next year – or in a century. There’s no way to predict when.

The conversation takes one last unexpected turn – teleportation. Yes, like Star Trek.

The team once debated whether it would ever be possible to "beam" people or objects across distances. Piponi analyzed the physics and concluded that teleportation violates fundamental scientific laws. However, those discussions led to valuable insights into encrypted communication systems resistant to hacking, something of great interest to Google, especially given concerns about NSA surveillance.

"Even bad ideas lead to good ones," DeVaul says. "I like to think of these challenges as ladders – one idea leads to another, and eventually, we climb to something that works."

Right now, the Rapid Eval team is closely following the work of several academics attempting to develop ultra-strong, lightweight materials.

One researcher who has caught Rich DeVaul’s attention is Caltech professor Julia Greer, who is pioneering nano trusses. "If successful, this could completely revolutionize construction," DeVaul explains. Imagine a material so compact and strong that an entire building could be prefabricated, packed into a small container, transported to a site, and then unfolded like origami – stronger than anything we build today, yet unbelievably lightweight." The room falls silent for a moment.

"I realize that sounds crazy," he adds, though he doesn’t seem to believe that himself.

At one point, DeVaul turns to me and asks if I have any ideas for Rapid Eval to consider. I had been warned he might do this, so I had prepared a suggestion: a "smart bullet" designed to reduce gun violence by preventing unintended or unlawful shootings. "If self-driving cars can be programmed to avoid harm," I say, "why not create self-guided ballistics?"

To my relief, DeVaul doesn’t dismiss the idea outright. What follows is a rapid-fire brainstorming session, where the group debates the pros and cons of "intelligent guns" versus "intelligent bullets" – the latter being significantly more difficult. The discussion shifts from self-destroying bullets with embedded hypodermic needles that could deliver a stun-drug (DeVaul’s idea) to bullets equipped with sensors that would force them to the ground before hitting an unintended target (Heinrich’s concept). Then Piponi suggests a mechanism where the bullet’s striker and explosive charge could be separated by a remote disabling switch.

As the conversation unfolds, the focus moves away from smart bullets toward more realistic solutions, such as intelligent gun holsters for law enforcement or advanced aiming technology for responsible firearm owners – ideas that might have real market appeal. However, the group also considers the political and commercial viability of such innovations. By the end, it becomes clear that while Google X operates at the edge of technological possibility, it also tries to stay grounded in practicality.

Later, I took a walk around the Google campus with Obi Felten, the team member responsible for keeping projects tethered to reality. DeVaul jokingly refers to her as "the normal person" in Rapid Eval meetings – the one who asks the hard but necessary questions: Is it legal? Would anyone buy it? Would anyone even want it?

Felten doesn’t come from an engineering background. She previously worked in Google’s European marketing division before transitioning to X, where she now holds the title "Head of Getting Moonshots Ready for Contact With the Real World." She openly admits that one of her biggest challenges is that there’s no established playbook for bringing radical technology to market.

"If you ever find a blueprint for how to do this, let me know," she jokes. Fortunately, X isn’t expected to make every project profitable. "The portfolio as a whole needs to generate revenue," she explains, "but not necessarily every single product. Some will be huge businesses, while others might transform the world without being commercially dominant."

Later this year, X plans to reveal a new top-secret initiative that will likely fall into the latter category. The details are scarce, but my conversations suggest that the team is particularly interested in transportation and clean energy. They are also heavily focused on improving medical diagnostics – seeing greater potential for impact in early disease detection rather than treatment.

During a visit to the Google X user-experience lab, I spot a mysterious object wrapped in black plastic, roughly the size of a Maltese Falcon statue. Whatever it is, it’s being tested with volunteer participants behind closed doors.

Even as X pushes forward with new projects, it must also advance the initiatives already made public. Each unveiled project needs to take at least one significant step forward this year.

• Project Loon has attracted interest from telecom giants worldwide, but it still lacks a finalized business plan and remains technically challenging to scale up. Google revealed it earlier than intended to preempt patent disclosures.
• Google Glass, closest to commercial launch, has generated massive public interest, but its success is still far from certain.
• Self-driving cars, which are still years away from mass adoption, have captured imaginations, but questions about regulations, infrastructure, and public acceptance remain unresolved.

That evening, over dinner with Astro Teller, I brought up these challenges. To me, one of the biggest hurdles facing radical innovation is that technology advances exponentially while society tends to change incrementally. People will eagerly adopt innovations that save time, reduce costs, or improve health. But something like Google Glass isn’t just about convenience – it fundamentally changes how people interact with the world.

Teller, however, believes Glass actually makes people more human, not less. He argues that the device removes the distraction of smartphones, making technology more seamless and less intrusive. But is it possible that Glass is the wrong answer to the right problem?

"Of course," Teller admits. "We’re not done. And maybe we got it wrong in some ways."

Felten and others on the X team believe that moonshot projects must be iterative. The public reaction isn’t just feedback – it’s part of the development process. "We want the world to tell us what they think," Teller explains. "That way, we can fix problems now rather than years later, after massive investments of time and money."

He leans back and reflects on the nature of X’s work. "We call them moonshots for a reason," he says. "If even one project becomes everything we hoped for, I’d be thrilled. If two succeed, I’d be overjoyed."

At one point, I mentioned my smart bullet proposal – the idea that Rapid Eval had picked apart earlier. It wasn’t a disaster, but it wasn’t exactly a success, either.

"That’s how it should be," Teller says reassuringly. "Most ideas don’t work. Almost all ideas don’t work. So it’s okay that yours didn’t either."

Then, after a moment of thought, he throws out a new idea: "What if instead of a bullet, it was a toxin that could be reversed in a week?"

He reasons that while it wouldn’t stop criminals immediately, anyone shot would have to turn themselves in for the antidote. But almost as soon as he says it, he starts shaking his head, already recognizing the challenges ahead.

"I don’t know," he admits with a grin. "I’m just brainstorming."