Many observers have compared the Tesla Cybertruck to Ford’s ill-fated Edsel. And actually, there are solid historical parallels.

 

On November 21, 2019, Tesla and its highly visible CEO Elon Musk were on top of the world. The Tesla S, launched in 2014, was the first viable electric car in nearly a century, while its follow-ups, the Models 3 and Y, were smashing EV sales records. That evening at the Tesla design studio in Hawthorne, California, Musk unveiled his newest and latest Tesla sensation: the Cybertruck, a radical electric pickup with a stainless steel body and interplanetary styling.

 

Before an enthusiastic crowd, Musk himself pitched the outlandish vehicle. Essentially a polygon on 35-inch tires, the truck struck many as a dystopian armored personnel carrier. The bare stainless-steel skin was actually a bulletproof exoskeleton, Musk explained, complemented with shatterproof  glass. Inside, the electronics were the most advanced in the industry: a 48-volt electrical system with 800-volt charging, full self-driving, four-wheel fly-by-wire steering. The Cybertruck, he declared, would be offered in multiple versions when it went on sale in late 2021: One was priced at $39,990, while another offered 500 miles of range. Tesla later reported that two million buyers placed pre-orders with refundable deposits.

And then four years passed.

The launch of the production Cybertruck at Tesla’s Austin, Texas factory in November of 2023, two years behind schedule, was a more muted affair. A few happy customers took delivery of their vehicles, but the production Cybertruck was a rather different vehicle than the one promised in 2019. The advanced electronics remained, but there was no exoskeleton in the biological sense. The Cybertruck was more like a conventional unit-construction vehicle with gigacastings in the floor pan and a stainless steel skin.

 

 

Now the two-wheel drive base model was priced at $60,000, a 50 percent increase from 2019, and it wouldn’t be available until 2025. There was no 500 miles of range, either. The only available model on launch day was the Foundation Series Cyberbeast with 845 hp, a range of 301 miles, and a price tag of $119,990. The dual-motor, AWD Cybertruck would be available early the next year, with a range of 340 miles and priced at $79,990.

While many prospective buyers were disappointed with the drastically higher pricing and lower range than they were promised, many others were not dissuaded. Overdosed on anticipation, enthusiastic customers lined up to take their deliveries. Not quite 40,000 Cybertrucks were sold in 2024, a fairly respectable number for such an unorthodox vehicle just ramping up production.

But in 2025, the bottom absolutely dropped out. Only 6.400 Cybertrucks were delivered in the first quarter and just 4,300 in the second quarter. By then, news outlets were already comparing the Cybertruck to the Ford Motor Company’s famous misfire, the 1958 Edsel. And in truth, there are some interesting parallels.

+   Projected versus actual sales: Ford anticipated selling 180,000 to 200,000 Edsels in the first year, a volume it was roped into by its decision to create a stand-alone dealer network. But in reality, only 63,000 vehicles were sold. In a similar way, Tesla planned to deliver 250,000 Cybertrucks in 2025, but that proved to be wildly optimistic. With barely 10,000 sold in the first half of the year, it’s never going to happen. In the Edsel and Cybertruck sales arcs, there’s an eerie echo.

 

 

+   Unorthodox styling: Both the Edsel and the Cybertruck were deliberately designed with unusual, provocative styling—the Edsel to stand out in a crowded mid-priced field, the Cybertruck to differentiate itself in the equally crowded pickup market, and to promote Tesla’s iconoclastic brand. But in both cases, it appears the buyers said no, thanks. The Edsel’s looks were openly ridiculed, especially the vertical grille. And while some Cybertruck buyers were drawn to the unconventional styling, traditional pickup buyers have mostly rejected the polygon theme. In fact, many Americans are repulsed by the Tesla’s appearance. They find the sci-fi styling actually transgressive, like an apocalyptic movie they don’t want to watch.

 

 

+   Mechanical failures: Perhaps unfairly, the Edsel was branded as a lemon. Some of the troubles arose with the Teletouch steering wheel-mounted shift control, where a minor electrical glitch could render the vehicle immobile. On the Cybertruck, there have been eight product recalls so far, including one for stainless steel body panels flying off at speed. (“The exoskeleton is falling off,” one wit noted.) New-product bugs are commonplace in the auto industry and established brands can easily weather them. But for a new brand or an unconventional product, they can be poison.

 

 

+   Marketing hype: Leading up to the Edsel’s rollout, Ford launched a nationwide promotional campaign showing covered-up Edsels on their way to the dealerships,  culminating in “E-Day,” September 4, 1957 when the car was finally unveiled. It was said to be the most extravagant product launch in history. But when the covers were pulled back, buyers didn’t much care for what they saw. Likewise, while Tesla fans were thrilled with the sensational Cybertruck reveal, when the production Cybertuck arrived two years late, overpriced, and with disappointing range, the thrill was gone for many. The two million preorders quietly backed away.

 

 

Here’s where the Edsel and Cybertruck stories diverge, we think. While Americans didn’t like the Edsel, they absolutely loathe the Cybertruck, it would appear. We don’t recall another vehicle that inspires actual revulsion from the general public. The Pontiac Aztek doesn’t come close. It’s not just the styling. Motor Trend, a pro-EV and pro-Tesla outlet, named it one of its 10 Dumbest Cars of All Time. And somehow the truck’s identity has gotten tangled up with CEO Elon Musk’s polarizing personal politics and media persona. Unflattering nicknames for the stainless-steel pickup arose: “Cybercuck.” “Deplorean.” “Incel Camino.” These labels are meant to reflect—rightly or wrongly—not just on the trucks but on the people who are assumed to drive them.

And that’s a problem. The Cybertruck is not a conventional truck, not a utility vehicle. If people want to buy it, it’s because it’s different, it stands out from the crowd, it’s cool. If the Cybertruck is not cool, if it’s a symbol of un-coolness, people have no reason to buy it. That would be the kiss of death. We would be surprised to see the Cybertruck in its current form in production for another year.

-AI images by ChatGPT