Tesla lost over $50 billion in market value in under six months.

It’s the kind of money that can send a human to Mars—twice—and still have enough left to buy every person in the U.S. a new iPhone.

Tesla's favorability in the United States has reached its lowest point since 2016. The decline is particularly pronounced among liberal and moderate Americans, with liberals rating Tesla at minus 34.9 and moderates at minus 9.1, compared to an average impression score of 17.2 for all automakers. (Business Insider)

And yet, nothing changed about the cars.
No major recalls. No tech failures. No environmental scandals.

The product stayed the same.

That shift—subtle, cultural, ideological—is the kind that reshapes public trust in innovation. And we should all be paying close attention.

Public trust in the systems meant to move us forward is fragile. When the one of the most important climate tech companies turns the product into a political statement, the consequences don’t stay in the boardroom. They ripple out.

Electric vehicles become symbols in a culture war. Clean energy becomes tainted by personal ideology. The automotive industry, which was once a symbol of freedom and comfort, is now pressuring people to decide not what works best for them, but what side they're on.
Progress becomes a partisan choice.

When the meaning of a product is allowed to drift this far from its purpose, we don’t just lose a brand—we lose public belief in the future we were supposed to be building together. When the meaning starts to fracture, rebuilding belief isn’t a matter of marketing, branding and product.
‍
It’s a generational repair job.

‍

Cultural Infrastructure Can’t Be Privately Owned

Tesla transcended being just a car company. Whether intentionally or not, it became part of a larger narrative: the global shift away from fossil fuels. And this narrative is too significant.

Public trust in innovation, especially concerning climate change, isn't a brand asset—it's cultural infrastructure. When a prominent player in this transition becomes politicized, the repercussions extend beyond the brand itself. Tesla's transformation from a symbol of innovation to a polarizing entity has had ripple effects across the EV industry. Recent surveys indicate a notable decline in public interest and trust in electric vehicles, with Tesla's controversies playing a significant role.​

From January to April 2025, 66% of consumers reported neither owning nor being interested in purchasing an EV, marking a 7 % point increase from 2022. Among those without EV ownership but with purchasing intentions, there was a 9-point decline to 20% over the same period. (Civic Science)

The company's controversies have cast a shadow over the entire EV sector, leading to increased skepticism and hesitancy among potential buyers. As William Roberts noted, "I don't think it's good for the EV market to have Tesla seen in a negative light - imploding."

This politicization affects public opinion, policy-making, and the overall perception of emerging climate solutions.

Tesla's situation is not unique.

Bud Light's collaboration with transgender influencer Dylan Mulvaney in 2023 led to significant backlash, including boycotts and a notable decline in sales. The company's response was criticized as reactive and lacking a clear stance, exacerbating the situation.

In 2018, Nike featured Colin Kaepernick in its "Just Do It" campaign. The move sparked both support and backlash. Nike's clear stance resonated with its target audience and even benefited them from a business perspective.

So what happens when the stakes aren’t shoes or beer or cars?
What happens when this drift infects medical innovation? Education? AI governance?
What happens when progress becomes a symbols of tribal identity?

We’ve already seen it—with vaccines. With renewable energy. With AI.

Campaigns, strategies, money, statements, they all have the power to change us. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the "badder". And it's ALWAYS a matter of priorities.

The Drift That No One Designed

Tesla didn't formally announce a new direction. There was no official pivot or values manifesto. Yet, over the past few years, a gradual realignment occurred—through public statements, social media activity, and political engagements.

This shift wasn't part of a strategic plan. No executive team decided to alienate a segment of the customer base. There was no deliberate move to become a symbol of cultural division. It unfolded organically.

Once that transformation occurred, the product could no longer speak for itself.

Nearly 30% of respondents believed associations with controversial figures like Elon Musk could drastically raise scrutiny and damage a brand. (The Guardian)

The personal conduct of executives in the LinkedIn era, has a magnified impact on public perception. While a strong personal brand can humanize a company, missteps can lead to significant damage

Leadership forgets its place in the ecosystem and it treats global infrastructure like a personal stage.

We are all, in some way, borrowing the future. When we leave this place, we don’t get to take our stock options or follower counts with us. All we leave behind is the shape of the world we helped create.
For those at the helm of the most powerful brands of our time, that responsibility is not optional.
It’s sacred.

Meaning Is Not Owned, It’s Borrowed

A prevalent misconception in modern business is the belief that companies have complete control over their brand. In reality, they can shape and suggest their brand identity, but the true meaning resides in the perceptions of those who engage with it.

For years, Tesla's brand was shaped by engineers, early adopters, climate activists, and tech enthusiasts. Purchasing a Tesla wasn't merely acquiring a vehicle—it was embracing a narrative of progress and innovation.

However, belief is volatile. It doesn't wait for clarification. When the signals from leadership diverge from the established narrative, people don't provide feedback. They disengage. As is their right.

What we’re witnessing now isn’t just a brand crisis—it’s a market correction in trust.

And while Tesla fumbles the narrative of electric transformation, others are quietly building futures that still feel believable.
‍
Take Porsche, for example. While Tesla becomes increasingly politicized, Porsche is doubling down on synthetic e-fuels—non-electric, zero-carbon alternatives.
‍
It’s not a press release, it’s a portfolio hedge. They’re not trying to win a culture war. They’re future-proofing their product line while the rest of the industry fights over narratives.

In an era where brand value is inseparable from public alignment, that kind of strategic neutrality—technological diversification without ideological baggage—might end up being the smarter bet.

Because this isn’t about who shouts loudest.
It’s about who’s still standing when the noise dies down.

And if the last few months have proven anything, it’s that no amount of brand equity protects you from losing the one thing that matters most: belief. No one is immune from legacy. No brand is pure.

You can be a symbol of something broken, and still decide to do better.
Even when you're deep in it. Even when the spotlight is unforgiving.
Even if you started on the wrong side of history.

What matters isn’t just the drift.
It’s whether you ever decide to correct the course.