The Republicans’ fetish for Tesla’s Cybertruck But Elon Musk's futuristic car is full of issues

In America, Republicans have a few defining traits: they’re often loud, convinced they’re always right, somehow always manage to remind everyone that they’re in love with Trump (maybe with a MAGA hat or a flag on their pickup), have virtually no sense of style and, more recently, have developed an obsession with Tesla’s Cybertruck.

Brutalist? Futuristic? It doesn’t really matter. As Wired notes, “for some, it’s a stainless steel status symbol. For others, it’s fascism on wheels. Either way, it doesn’t go unnoticed.” Elon Musk’s off-road vehicle costs around $90,000 and it’s ugly, really ugly. Since its launch at the end of 2023, it hasn’t stopped making headlines: panels that warp, windshields that crack on their own, paint issues, and a design that looks like it was pulled straight out of a post-apocalyptic film shot on a college student’s budget.

And yet, online, the Cybertruck has become much more than just a vehicle; it’s now a political symbol, almost a cultural fetish. On one side are Musk’s devotees, convinced they’re driving the future; on the other, an anti-Cybertruck movement that mocks its shape, performance, and the ideological message it carries. It’s no coincidence that, as Wired reported, one proud owner interviewed was a former inmate who had served time for taking part in the January 6 Capitol assault. But how did an electric car built to save the planet become a Republican icon?

Trump and Musk as undisputed idols

It all starts with one assumption: whatever falls into the hands (or narrative) of Elon Musk eventually drifts to the right. It already happened with Twitter, now X.com, which has turned into a haven for conspiracy theorists and ultraconservatives, and with Tesla, which went from being a pioneer of sustainable mobility to the manifesto of a toxic masculinity disguised as technological progress. Unsurprisingly, among former fans, stickers have started circulating reading “I bought it before Elon lost his mind.”

But the connection with Trump took things even further. During a livestream last year, Adin Ross, a content creator beloved by America’s alt-right, gifted the former President (then busy with his re-election campaign) a Cybertruck. “Wow! That’s an Elon car,” Trump exclaimed, visibly pleased as he admired the steel body, calling it “incredible” and “beautiful.”

Ultimately, the Cybertruck perfectly embodies the Trumpian aesthetic, built on aggression and machismo. It’s the car for those who want to show they “own the road,” for those who dream of a strong, tough, invincible America. For supporters, it’s a symbol of freedom and individual power; for critics, an icon of cultural decline, a caricature of the American dream rendered in stainless steel.

The victims of Tesla’s Cybertruck

The truth is, the car doesn’t work well. In fact, it works badly. Very badly. In recent months, Tesla has once again come under investigation for alleged design flaws in the Cybertruck after two California families sued the company over the deaths of their children in a crash. As The Guardian reported, the parents of one of the victims accused Tesla of having known for years about a structural defect that turned a potentially survivable crash into a deadly fire.

According to the California Highway Patrol report, the car crashed into a tree at high speed and instantly caught fire. The electric doors, powered by the same battery as the vehicle, locked due to the blaze, trapping passengers inside.

Why do Republicans love the Cybertruck?

But that’s not all. As CNN reported, last summer a Florida court ordered Tesla to pay $243 million to the family of a 22-year-old woman killed by one of its cars while on Autopilot mode. More recently, Reuters revealed a new recall of more than 63,000 Cybertrucks due to a defect in the front headlight software, which made them too bright and potentially capable of blinding oncoming drivers.

To make matters worse, a recent report by the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety (IIHS) further questioned the vehicle’s safety. Independent crash tests revealed inconsistent performance and major weaknesses in passenger protection systems, debunking Musk’s promises of indestructibility—the very narrative on which the Cybertruck was built.

At this point, it’s clear that the only truly futuristic thing about Tesla’s pickup is its ability to combine the worst of dystopian design with the flaws of modern engineering. And like every object idolized by Republicans, loud, expensive, and surprisingly fragile (much like themselves), the Cybertruck perfectly reflects the party’s philosophy.