Eitan Cohen spends his days on a problem most people only notice when it fails them: the moment a customer picks up the phone, describes something broken, and the person on the other end has no way to actually see it. As CEO and co-founder of TechSee, a Tel Aviv company he started in 2015, Cohen has built a platform that lets support agents - and increasingly, AI - look at the router, the wiring, the error screen, the leaking valve, through the customer's own phone camera. The pitch is simple. Most support fails because the helper is blind to the problem. TechSee gives it eyes.
Today that idea runs inside more than 1,000 companies, including Fortune 500 brands. TechSee's software combines computer vision, augmented reality and what Cohen now calls agentic AI - systems that can interpret what they are shown and guide a person to a fix, step by step. The company says the approach avoids more than two million technician visits a year and has eliminated tens of thousands of tons of CO2 by keeping trucks off the road. For Cohen, those numbers are the point. The technology is only interesting because of what it removes: wasted trips, repeated calls, and the particular frustration of trying to describe something you can see but cannot name.
An idea born from a family tech-support call
The origin story is almost comically ordinary, which is part of why it works. Cohen kept getting called to help family members fix technology they could not manage on their own. He would drive over, look at the problem, and solve in minutes what had been impossible to sort out over the phone. Somewhere on one of those trips the question formed that would become a company: how could he be hands-on without physically being there?
His co-founder Amir Yoffe supplied a real-world proof point on the very day Cohen first pitched the concept. Yoffe had waited a week for an internet repair, then watched the technician diagnose the fault visually in a matter of seconds. He realized the support agent he had spoken to a week earlier could have solved the same thing remotely - if only that agent had been able to see what the technician saw. Two frustrations, the same missing ingredient. They started building.
Cohen came to the problem with an unusually well-matched background. He holds two undergraduate degrees from Tel Aviv University: one in computer science, one in psychology. It is a combination that reads almost like a job description for the company he would eventually run, where the technical challenge of teaching software to interpret a camera feed sits right next to the human challenge of keeping a frustrated customer calm and guided.
Two decades before the founding
TechSee was not Cohen's first company, and that matters to how he built it. Over roughly twenty years he had already worked across the Israeli and global technology industry - early roles at Amdocs and Nice Systems, then general manager posts at Blue Pumpkin and Merchant Circle, both of which were acquired, and a CEO role at Local Sciences, also acquired. By the time he sat down to start TechSee, he had built teams, shipped products and sold businesses. He knew what the hard parts felt like.
That experience shows up in the advice he gives other founders, which is notably unglamorous. Expect errors. Be patient. Treat the difficulties as opportunities to get stronger and to learn. It is not the language of a founder selling a frictionless rocket ship. It is the language of someone who has been through the grind more than once and came out the other side with the scars to prove it.
Selling an idea people wished they had
The early days of TechSee produced the kind of reactions founders dream about. In the first sales conversations, one senior executive told the team he had been waiting for exactly this for ten years. Another admitted, in Yoffe's retelling, that he was ashamed he had not thought of it first. Those are the responses that tell a founder the idea is not just clever but overdue - obvious in hindsight, invisible until someone builds it.
The founding vision had two halves. The first was human-to-human video support: connect an agent to a customer's camera so a person could guide another person visually. That launched first because it was the more immediate need. The second half was the automation - AI that could handle the visual interaction on its own, without an agent on the line. As the limits of text-based chatbots became clearer, that second half moved from ambition to product. TechSee describes itself now as a leader in visual and agentic AI for customer service, which is really just the automated version of the same original idea: let the machine see, then let it help.
Where he wants it to go
Cohen's stated ambition is bigger than any single feature. He and Yoffe framed their dream as making visual interaction as essential to customer experience as the CRM itself - as fundamental and unremarkable a part of the stack as the database of customer records that every company already runs. That is a high bar. CRMs are invisible infrastructure; nobody argues about whether to have one. Cohen is betting that in a few years the same will be true of the ability to see the customer's problem.
The through-line across everything he has built is a single stubborn goal, stated plainly: simplify the way people deal with technology, and make any product easy to use and free from friction. It is the reason a family tech-support headache turned into a company, and it is the standard he measures the work against. Recent recognition suggests the market agrees with the direction - in 2026, TechSee and its partners took home multiple Stevie Awards for scaling visual assistance, and the company was named among the year's top customer-service technologies alongside enterprise partners in telecom and beyond.
What makes Cohen worth watching is not that he predicted AI would matter to customer service. Nearly everyone did. It is that he picked the specific, unfashionable corner of it - vision, the thing people show rather than say - and committed to it a decade ago, before it was obvious. The two million avoided visits, the tons of CO2, the Fortune 500 logos: they all trace back to a man on a drive to his parents' house, wondering why he had to be there in person at all.