looks like anything but a car from the prancing horse
For more than seventy years, Ferrari sold not merely a car but a covenant — a promise written in engine roar and low-slung steel. In May 2026, the company unveiled the Luce, its first all-electric vehicle shaped by designer Jony Ive, and found that a brand built on sensation cannot easily survive the silence of reinvention. The backlash from collectors, politicians, and former stewards of the prancing horse raises a question older than any marque: when a legend changes its nature to survive, does it remain a legend at all?
- The Luce matches supercar performance on paper but strips away the sensory language — the growl, the low stance, the predatory silhouette — that Ferrari devotees consider the soul of the brand.
- Condemnation arrived from the highest quarters: a former chairman warned of 'the destruction of a legend,' Italy's deputy prime minister invoked the founder's ghost, and collectors publicly renamed the car 'the Loser.'
- Ferrari's gamble is not made in a vacuum — Chinese manufacturers like BYD are undercutting Western EV costs by 30 percent and building electric supercars that directly threaten Ferrari's traditional market, while rivals like Lamborghini are retreating toward hybrids.
- CEO Benedetto Vigna is betting on a precedent: the Purosangue SUV survived similar outrage in 2022 and opened new markets, suggesting controversy alone does not determine a product's fate.
- The Luce appears aimed not at the faithful but at younger, EV-comfortable buyers who may never mourn what they never knew — making the car's success dependent on an audience Ferrari has never before needed to court.
Ferrari has always traded in a very specific promise — the low silhouette, the mechanical roar, the growl that announces the car before it arrives. For over seven decades, that formula held. Then in May 2026, the company unveiled the Luce, its first all-electric vehicle designed by Jony Ive, and discovered that some promises, once broken, are not easily forgiven.
The Luce is genuinely fast — 0 to 60 in 2.5 seconds, a top speed above 190 miles per hour. But speed alone does not make a Ferrari. The car sits higher than its predecessors, its profile squared and modern rather than predatory. There is no engine note, no mechanical heartbeat. To those who have spent their lives loving the brand, it felt like a betrayal.
The backlash came swiftly and from unexpected places. Luca Cordero di Montezemolo, who led Ferrari for three decades, warned the Luce risked destroying a legend and suggested removing the prancing horse badge entirely. Italy's deputy prime minister questioned what Enzo Ferrari would make of a car that looks like anything but one of his. On social media, one commenter called it an abomination; another joked that Enzo would rise from his grave to reclaim the company.
The timing sharpens the stakes. Chinese manufacturers have cracked EV economics in ways Western companies have not — the IEA estimates Chinese supply chains cut production costs by at least 30 percent. BYD's Yangwang U9, priced at $250,000, reaches 60 miles per hour in 2.3 seconds. Rivals like Lamborghini and Porsche have pulled back from full electrification. Ferrari, under CEO Benedetto Vigna, has chosen to press forward instead.
Vigna has been here before. The Purosangue, Ferrari's first SUV, drew near-identical outrage in 2022 — and sold well, opening markets the brand had never reached. He appears to believe the Luce is a similar inflection point, aimed not at traditional buyers but at younger consumers who may find the car's modernity a feature rather than a flaw. Whether the controversy converts to sales, and whether Ferrari's identity survives the wager, remains genuinely unresolved.
Ferrari has built its reputation on a very specific promise: the low-slung silhouette, the roaring engine, the unmistakable growl that announces arrival before the car comes into view. For more than seven decades, that formula worked. Then, in May 2026, the company unveiled the Luce—its first all-electric vehicle, designed by Jony Ive, the man who shaped the iPhone—and discovered that some promises, once broken, cannot be easily repaired.
The Luce is fast. It reaches 60 miles per hour in 2.5 seconds and tops out above 190 miles per hour, numbers that would make most supercars competitive. But speed alone does not make a Ferrari. The car sits higher than its predecessors, its profile squared and modern rather than predatory. There is no engine note, no mechanical heartbeat. To many who have spent their lives loving the brand, it looked like a betrayal.
The backlash arrived swiftly and from unexpected quarters. Luca Cordero di Montezemolo, who led Ferrari for three decades, told reporters the Luce risked "the destruction of a legend" and suggested the company remove its iconic prancing horse badge entirely. Matteo Salvini, Italy's deputy prime minister and transport minister, questioned what Enzo Ferrari—the company's founder—would make of a car that "looks like anything but a car from the prancing horse." On social media, the criticism turned visceral. One commenter called it an "abomination." Another joked that Enzo would rise from his grave to reclaim the company. Shaun Baker, an Australian collector who has owned more than fifty Ferraris, took to calling it the "Loser."
The timing of Ferrari's gamble matters. The global automotive industry is being reshaped by Chinese manufacturers who have cracked the economics of electric vehicles in ways Western companies have not. The International Energy Agency estimates that Chinese supply chains reduce EV production costs by at least 30 percent compared to the rest of the world. Companies like BYD are now building electric supercars—the Yangwang U9, priced at $250,000, accelerates to 60 miles per hour in just over 2.3 seconds—that directly challenge Ferrari's traditional market. Porsche, Lamborghini, Honda, and Ford have all scaled back their EV ambitions in response. Lamborghini's boss recently suggested that hybrid cars, not full electrification, represent "the right way to go."
Ferrari's leadership, under Benedetto Vigna, has chosen a different path. Vigna has defended the Luce's price as fair compensation for innovation and reported strong interest from potential buyers. He is not new to controversy. The Purosangue, Ferrari's first SUV, sparked similar outcry when it launched in 2022—critics said a four-door model would damage the brand's exclusivity—yet it sold well and opened new markets. The Luce, Vigna appears to believe, is a similar inflection point.
Some industry observers see method in the apparent madness. James Wong, a Singapore-based car analyst, praised the Luce's interior design but acknowledged the car is "unrecognisable" as a Ferrari. Yet he and others suggest the car may not be aimed at traditional Ferrari buyers at all. Younger consumers, more comfortable with electric powertrains, might find the Luce appealing precisely because it does not look like a supercar. New customers drawn to the brand for the first time might never know what they are missing. The controversy itself—the media storm, the arguments, the AI-generated redesigns that users claimed looked better—has kept the Luce in conversation. Whether that conversation converts to sales, and whether Ferrari's gamble preserves or destroys the brand's identity, remains an open question.
Citações Notáveis
Ferrari was the aspirational brand to own. But with the Luce, they've hurt their image.— Shaun Baker, Australian car collector and dealer
The Luce is risking the destruction of a legend and the firm should remove its iconic badge from the car.— Luca Cordero di Montezemolo, former Ferrari chairman
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why would Ferrari, of all companies, risk its identity on something so radically different?
Because the market they've always dominated is being invaded. Chinese companies have figured out how to make electric cars cheaper and faster. Ferrari had to choose: evolve or become a museum piece.
But couldn't they have made an electric car that still looked like a Ferrari?
Maybe. But then it would just be a Ferrari with a different engine—a compromise that satisfies no one. Jony Ive's design is saying something different: we're not trying to be what we were.
And the backlash? Does that worry them?
It should. But Vigna has seen this before with the Purosangue. People said it would ruin the brand. It didn't. It expanded it. The question is whether the Luce does the same or whether this time he's miscalculated.
What's the real risk here?
That Ferrari stops being aspirational. The brand's power has always come from exclusivity and heritage. If you break the visual language too completely, you might attract new buyers but lose the old ones—and the old ones are the ones who made Ferrari legendary.
So this could work?
It could. If the car is genuinely revolutionary and if younger buyers embrace it. But it could also be the moment Ferrari became just another luxury EV brand.