Everrati Builds the Electric Porsche 911 of Your Dreams

As any Porsche lover knows, the automaker produces an electric sports car, the Taycan, which in GT Weissach form (US$231,995) develops 1,019 peak horsepower and takes just 2.1 seconds to reach 60 miles per hour. But what Porsche doesn’t do is produce an electric version of its absolutely iconic 911.

At the moment, that’s a job for the British company Everrati, which installs electric power into examples of the 911 built between 1988 and 1994 (code named 964). Everatti also transforms Land and Range Rovers, as well as classic Mercedes-Benz SLs, and an interpretation of the Ford GT40. The 911s have carbon-fiber body panels for lightness and are built in California through a partnership with Aria. That company creates concept and pre-production vehicles for global automakers.

Everrati’s latest creation is the Porsche 911 Signature Wide Body. With the hard-to-miss ducktail, it resembles a 1980s Porsche Turbo—but handles better. For a price that starts at £290,000 (US$360,467) customers get a car with 500 horsepower and 368.78 pound-feet of torque. The car has a 62-kilowatt-hour battery pack from LG Chem, yielding in this lightweight configuration approximately 200 miles of range. A single motor is connected to a limited-slip differential.

Also available is a Legacy model with 247 horsepower and 228.64 pound-feet. These cars look like earlier 911s (without the wide body and ducktail, for instance) and are built in a time-consuming restoration process. Given the work required, the price is the same as the Signature.

The Everrati Porsche 911 Signature Wide Body offers 500 horsepower and 368.78 pound-feet of torque from an electric drivetrain.
Everrati

Features on the Signature include electronically adjustable suspension, regenerative braking, a “Porsche inspired” five-gauge cluster, and DC fast-charging capability. Everrati is also offering a Signature Gulf Edition of the 911, painted in the iconic blue-and-orange livery of the Gulf racing team (as seen at Le Mans and other venues).

The first Everrati 911 to go to a U.S. customer this month is a Mexico Blue Signature model delivered to California resident Matt Rogers, who co-founded the smart thermostat company that eventually became Google Nest. Rogers said in a statement that his car “captures the zeitgeist perfectly, being sustainable and environmentally conscious while also keeping the character of [Porsche’s] air-cooled era.”

Justin Lunny, Everatti co-founder and CEO, tells Penta that the company “doesn’t ‘convert’ cars to electric; instead, we redefine them as electric vehicles, worrying about such factors as driving feel and weight distribution. We hire very-experienced EV engineers and use the highest level of electric components, such as batteries and motors you would see in EVs from OEM manufacturers such as Rimac or Lotus.”

The gauges look like Porsche items, but are altered to monitor battery performance
Everrati

Lunny says that Everrati puts motor and batteries in the back, where Porsche located the engine and transmission on its 911s, with more batteries and power electronics up front, where the original gas tank resided.

U.K. customer cars will still make the trek to California. Lunny explains that right-hand-drive 911s are sourced in Britain and shipped to the U.S., where they’re stripped to the chassis and slowly built up with the new carbon-fibre panels. They then go back to the U.K. for finishing.

“EV is not the only answer, but we do believe it will become the predominate powertrain,” Lunny says.

The company concentrates on a few models, but it’s willing to entertain bespoke one-off commissions, such as an electric Lamborghini for a customer in the Middle East. Such projects require a huge engineering commitment, and the resulting vehicle isn’t by any means inexpensive, costing US$500,000 or more. But it will be fully developed as an EV.

Porsche, too, is mostly going electric, with plans to have EVs make up more than 80% of new car sales by 2030. In 2021, more than 40% of the cars delivered in Europe were at least partly electric, either plug-in hybrids or full EVs. The 911 has no plans for full electrification, though a hybrid version appears likely. Lunny himself drives a battery-powered Porsche Taycan.

A wave of corporate warnings and technical disclosures has flooded the media, with headlines worrying over “swarms” of rogue artificial-intelligence agents launching “unprecedented” cyberattacks, outsmarting their makers, and inching toward a terrifying autonomy. The most revealing part of this narrative isn’t what the software did. It’s who is telling the story—and why. When corporate leaders publicly insist that the systems they financed, engineered and deployed are suddenly beyond their power to contain, skepticism isn’t only healthy; it is essential.

For years, Silicon Valley has drawn scrutiny from civil society and global regulators over tangible harms such as youth mental health deterioration and systematic privacy violations. Today, industry figures seem to be trying to change that public image. Loudly blowing the whistle on their own systems—just as two of the leading companies were preparing for massive initial public offerings—lets AI executives position themselves as a new generation of leaders who have come to terms with their societal responsibilities. They seem to want us to believe that they no longer want to “move fast and break things” but will instead stand as vigilant guardians between humanity and a technological apocalypse.

There is one glaring problem: Software doesn’t rebel. A mathematical model possesses neither intent, malice nor the will to defy its creators, let alone extinguish our species. AI is a human artifact, engineered for profit.

When an agentic model in an evaluation sandbox connects to an unauthorized server or executes an exploit, it hasn’t staged a coup. It has tried to meet the human-defined objectives set out before it through a path its designers failed to constrain. It’s the digital equivalent of the King Midas myth, in which the king’s ill-defined wish turns even his food and drink into gold.

That powerful experimental models were able to discover novel vulnerabilities and breach external systems isn’t a sign of a dangerous superintelligence but of human error or negligence. There is no sentient actor lurking in the weights to be reasoned with, feared or pacified. There are only human software engineers, product managers and corporate boards deciding which guardrails are worth the latency cost and which permissions can be skipped in the race to market.

Policymakers and voters need to resist AI exceptionalism. In any other discipline—from civil engineering to pharmaceuticals—courts and regulators treat a system failure as evidence of bad product design and inadequate safety testing. If an aircraft crashes, we focus on finding the engineering defect, correcting it, and enforcing established liability standards for the damage created.

By leaning on an anthropomorphic narrative, Silicon Valley attempts to repackage its specific human choices that led to experimental, powerful models behaving unexpectedly during tests as an existential peril. Elevating the issue to a cosmic scale leaves the public paralyzed and takes ordinary product accountability off the table.

In the cutthroat race for venture capital and market dominance, building guardrails slows down deployment. Grandstanding about uncontrollable power costs nothing and generates billions of dollars in free publicity, justifying stock prices, all while cultivating an aura of technological capability not only to build the frontier but also ultimately to rein it in.

Governments need to recognize regulatory capture when it stares them in the face. Tech leaders’ strategy looks transparent: Alarm Washington and Brussels into creating a regime in which only trillion-dollar incumbents with fully staffed compliance and safety departments can legally operate. By sitting at the policymakers’ tables before anyone else, these companies can help draft rules digging an impassable moat protecting them from open-source developers and upstart competitors, domestic or international. The real danger is in further concentrating the tech industry into the hands of only a few companies with deep pockets.

Beijing and Washington have brushed off those tech leaders’ calls, albeit for very different reasons. Chinese state media dismissed them as part of the “Cold War playbook” and intended to preserve U.S. dominance. Xi Jinping argued for exactly the opposite at the Brics Summit on Sept. 12, calling on Brics countries to “strengthen cooperation in the field of AI, encourage open source, openness, collaboration and sharing, and break new grounds and scale new heights.” President Trump, steeped in a doctrine of unfettered capitalism and technological supremacy, called fears that AI could destroy humanity a “hoax.” Vice President JD Vance warned that AI companies “begging the government to regulate them” looked like a “Trojan Horse.”

Striving to pursue its “European way” on AI and assert regulatory leadership, Europe, by contrast, welcomed the call. European Union President Ursula von der Leyen made this clear at the State of the EU speech last Wednesday and announced that the EU will invite “the main frontier labs for a discussion on how we can support ongoing industry efforts to pace the frontier.”

Europe has been here before. In an effort to lead global regulation and react to fears borne from ChatGPT, Europe rushed its landmark AI Act into law in 2024. Already the world’s most restrictive rulebook, the framework quickly proved too broad and complex to enforce. Stalled by implementation delays and concerns about European competitiveness, the EU postponed the law’s full rollout, leaving regulations uncertain.

AI should be regulated—risks exist and should be taken seriously. But governments need to act based on available evidence and verified facts, not corporate PR panic, the views of industry insiders, or the desire for quick political wins. The greatest danger facing society isn’t that software will awaken and overthrow its human masters. It is that we will allow the creators of the software to abdicate human responsibility for the systems they choose to build and help them pull up the ladder to market access behind them.

Everrati Builds the Electric Porsche 911 of Your Dreams

AI doesn’t rebel—people design, deploy and profit from it. The real danger lies in allowing tech companies to escape accountability while shaping regulations that protect their dominance.