Talking Shit #1: The Tesla Paradox
Why does every car enthusiast seem to despise Tesla? One could argue that the dawn of the electric age terrifies us so much, that the only prospect for survival is to relent against the dying of the light, which in this case is to bad-mouth anything that comes out of Elon Musk’s department. Whilst that may be a part of it, nobody seems to have an issue with the Porsche Taycan or upcoming electric rivals from performance outfitters. There’s always been something offputting about the way Tesla has existed. From how they go about conducting business, to fundraising, to delivering products and to the ecosystem they’ve created within their product line, there’s always been a trailing waft of iffiness that I’ve never been able to shake.
The Future Feels Cheap
A couple of months ago I took an Uber Black Electric on my way back from the airport. It just so happened to be one of Dubai’s new fleet of Model S chauffeur cars, commissioned to highlight the UAE’s initiative towards a greener, cleaner society. I admit, I was excited to experience a Tesla for the first time, especially after my back aching 3 hour economy flight. The smooth allure of the black body lines hinted at an awaiting luxury behind its doors. To say I was disappointed with the interior is an understatement. After all, with a base price of $80,000 you’re in the big hitter territory of high-end luxury automobiles, sitting pretty with the likes of fully optioned offerings from Mercedes and Audi. The ‘wood’ trim was like MDF from a design technology lab, it felt so scratchy and cheap, just as the clearly plastic Mustang-like materials in gloss black did around the doors and dash. It’s just got this stupid big iPad in the middle of the car, drawing millennial attention away from the overall cheap feeling of the battery on wheels. Admittedly the seats themselves were cushiony and comfortable with sufficient bolstering on the sides keeping you snug in the seat. It’s just the aura of the car felt mute, it didn’t feel luxurious to me and at eighty grand it damn well should. The screens are wide, resolute, and clear. I mean look the touch screen is nice to use it feels iPad like or even slightly more accurate than that. I think the Model 3 can get away with the simplicity and cheapness of the interior at its price point, and the seats look arguably more comfortable than in the Model S in their stubbier setting but I haven’t been in one so I can’t say.
Whenever I argue the case of the interior against Tesla’s to Tesla owners I ask them a simple question, “Have you ever been in a BMW, Audi, or Mercedes at the same price point?”. The experiences are not even comparable. In a similar priced E-Class for example, you feel wrapped in a blanket of luxury, everything you touch feels like an uncontrollable temptation, silky metal and carbon cradle you as you sink into the seats that caress your shoulders and back with massage function and cool ventilation. The perforated leather and lumbar support encapsulate your experience as you waft across the road in abject luxury. You don’t feel connected to the bourgeoisie — or boujee as the kids say — side of yourself when you sit in a Tesla. You just feel connected to the screens, and one thing I’ve always loved about cars as a petrol head is the ability to escape the reality of the world around me. We already use so many screens and tablets and floating projection TVs in 12K in our day-to-day life. Why do we need to distract driver attention with more and more screens?
There’s a Funky Musk in the Air
Mr. Musk, the Great Elon of our Eon. No surprises here but I’ve never liked him. He’s always had this edgy weirdness that I can’t quite put my finger on but I know it's scammy. And what better example of his scams than the good old Cybertruck program or the Tesla Roadster that’s two years late. Maybe this reason only rings true to a select few of us who’ve really got a finger on the pulse of the car market, but the social and economic ethics that are subjugated under the control of Mr. Musk are quite displeasing. As rightly argued on the Smoking Tire podcast, the ‘reserve etiquette’ of the auto world is being abused by Tesla’s leading man. On launch, without any working or testable prototypes, Tesla allowed customers to reserve a Cybertruck online for $100. It is a common practice for larger companies to establish a means to reserve or order a car in advance of its build plan, but with Tesla, it’s abundantly clear that the reserve process is being used to finance other projects like SpaceX and things like the Tesla Roadster. The premise is that Elon’s ventures have been relatively unprofitable with his product lines and are losing money rapidly. As a result, the reserve gambit acts as a kind of gauze to maintain the influx of cash without asking the bank for a loan on the merit of their dwindling finances. The orders for a Cybertruck, that is simply not feasible to pass safety standards or basic regulations will provide clear intention to a lending agent that funds will be coming in to fulfill the terms of the loan. The math is that in relative terms of the cost of a car, a $100 reserve fee is nothing to most people and can easily be forgotten about when it's in reference to the securing place of a car which is many times the value of the initial reservation fee. With this Elon Musk can go to a bank and say well look 1 million people have placed $100 into the orders for this vehicle so we have some operating capital to play with, please give us XXX amount so that we can do more R&D and start to fulfill these orders. My guess is that the money is going towards the cash-dry production line of Tesla Roadsters that have yet to hit the market. In any case, whatever rings true, Elon Musk has had a difficult time making good on his promises.
Let Me Drive Dad!
I think it's impossible to remember how many times I’ve asked my dad to let me drive his car, both before and after I could legally drive a car. So many times it must’ve been as irritating as that duck song I keep playing for my niece. How I dreamed of stepping into that old LS 460 we had, sliding the auto box into drive and creeping up to a gentle RPM as we swanned out of the community onto the road. Feeling the resistance of the steering wheel as we came over the cresting interchange turning towards what was actually the marking for a shoulder, but to me and others like me, a tightening apex. I remember lusting over the action of driving a car. And now you mean to tell me that people are so lazy and uninterested, in a magic so beautiful that it allowed you to escape the monotonous consistency of reality, that nobody wants to drive anymore? People just want to click a button on their docile device and be robotically transferred like some lump of meat from one place to another. No surprise then I loathe the mere concept of Tesla’s self-driving solution. Forget being a petrol head, forget enjoying cars, forget any of that. I implore you to recognize the social impact of self-driving cars. Cars make us more aware, of what’s going on around us, they make us more disciplined in maintaining and following important rules, they teach us the consequence of breaking those rules. There is an astute realness about driving that needs to be preserved even in the laziest of cars.
It’s a Bit Culty
Even when I’ve had the opportunity to drive very cool supercars, I’ve always been able to give my honest opinion about how it felt to drive them without fear of being shouted at by the owners and being barred from future drives if my comments weren’t to their liking. However, the ramifications of bad-mouthing a Tesla to an aspiring or current owner of the brand could prove to not only be friendship-shattering but even more so fatal. There is such an enthusiasm around the great and grand Tesla that I feel like I should be saying a prayer for every time I’ve ever cursed Elon Musks' name for fear of being struck by a bolt of lightning by a passing Model 3. I remember watching an episode of the Grand Tour where Clarkson rather sarcastically gleamed about the Model X’s excellence in a bit of a dig to the culture of cultishly raving about the brand. They are decent cars and I would be wrong to say otherwise. But they aren’t exemplary and that’s where the rubber meets the road on a lot of the arguments between Tesla tools and everyday car folk. When I really ponder on why I don’t like Tesla, it's because of the ‘god-like’ resonance the owners seem to have over others, “you’re just jealous that my Tesla is quicker than your Shelby in a 0–60” or “the acceleration is completely destructive for a sedan and you just hate that our is better than yours”. Any form of arrogance is irritating but there’s something about battery benders that just peeves me off I still, in writing, can’t describe what it is exactly but it’s annoying.
