A Review by the Auto Motive Electronic Editorial Team
The Day It Broke the Internet
It’s hard to forget the night Tesla’s Cybertruck made its debut. The event, held in Los Angeles in late 2019, wasn’t just another car reveal — it was theatre. Elon Musk, always the master of spectacle, stood on stage in front of what looked like a low-poly tank pulled straight from a dystopian video game. It had the audacity to be unapologetically angular, clad in raw stainless steel, and boasted “armour glass” windows that, ironically, shattered during the live demonstration. That moment — unexpected, awkward, hilarious — became an instant meme. But more importantly, it cemented the Cybertruck’s place in the cultural zeitgeist.
For Tesla, this wasn’t a failure. If anything, it was a marketing coup. The clip of the broken window went viral within minutes, and suddenly everyone, from petrolheads to tech sceptics, was talking about this bizarre wedge-shaped vehicle. That was the point. Tesla didn’t want to blend in with the traditional truck market — it wanted to break it apart and rebuild it in its own image.
A Smash That Went Viral
There’s a kind of genius in launching a product that people can’t stop mocking. In the age of memes and algorithms, attention is currency. While legacy car brands spend millions refining their designs to look “acceptable” to the broadest market, Tesla took a sledgehammer to convention — almost literally. Within hours of the launch, Cybertruck was trending worldwide, and Tesla reportedly racked up hundreds of thousands of pre-orders, each requiring only a small refundable deposit. The hype, it seemed, was working.
And yet, underneath the laughs and the headlines, something deeper was brewing. Was this simply a PR stunt gone right? Or was Tesla genuinely reimagining the vehicle from the ground up?
Elon Musk and the Art of Provocation
Elon Musk isn’t just Tesla’s CEO — he’s the company’s brand. And Cybertruck is perhaps his boldest expression yet. It’s a provocation aimed squarely at an industry he’s been trying to disrupt for over a decade. When asked why the design looked nothing like any other truck, Musk simply replied: “Trucks have been the same for a long time. We want something different.”
That “different” has drawn both awe and ridicule. But Musk doesn’t seem to mind. His approach has always been high-risk, high-reward. The Cybertruck may not be pretty in a traditional sense, but that’s exactly why it’s unforgettable. And in an industry drowning in samey crossovers and conservative pickups, unforgettable counts for a lot.
Form Over Function or Both?
When the Cybertruck first rolled onto the stage, the immediate reaction wasn’t applause — it was confusion. Was this a real vehicle? Was Tesla serious? It looked like a stealth bomber with wheels, a stainless steel triangle on oversized tyres, something more suited to a sci-fi film set than a suburban driveway. But Musk’s vision was clear: not only was it real, it was meant to challenge the very definition of what a pickup truck should be.
Let’s start with the exterior. The Cybertruck’s shell is made from ultra-hard 30X cold-rolled stainless steel, a material more commonly found in aerospace or industrial applications than in consumer vehicles. Tesla claims this “exoskeleton” design enhances durability and reduces the need for paint — no more worrying about scratches or dings. It also means the body panels can’t be stamped with traditional automotive tooling, which partly explains the truck’s unapologetically angular shape. It’s not that Tesla rejected curves; it’s that curves rejected the material.
But is all this design theatre just for show? That depends on how you define utility. The Cybertruck’s flat panels and sharp lines aren’t merely aesthetic — they allow for a simpler manufacturing process, fewer moving parts in the body structure, and a modular, potentially more repairable platform. And while it may look like a brutalist sculpture, it’s intended to function as a heavy-duty utility vehicle with real-world performance in mind.
Tesla promises up to 500 miles of range (in the top configuration), a 0–60 mph time of under 3 seconds, and towing capacity upwards of 6,000 kg — numbers that would make even the most die-hard petrolheads pause. Of course, these figures are still largely theoretical. As of now, only a handful of units have made their way into the hands of influencers and early testers. Real-world data remains limited, and many of the grand claims are yet to be fully validated on public roads or in commercial use.
Still, the Cybertruck’s design isn’t just about shock value. Its flat bed — or “vault”, as Tesla dramatically calls it — is covered by a retractable tonneau, offering secure storage that’s more versatile than it looks. The adjustable air suspension system, which allows the vehicle to raise or lower its ride height on command, adds further practicality for both on- and off-road conditions. In theory, this is a machine that can tackle a muddy trail in Wales, haul furniture across Manchester, and cruise through the streets of central London — all while turning heads at every corner.
Yet it’s precisely that spectacle that divides opinion. Critics argue that the Cybertruck prioritises attention over function, that it’s an experiment in design bravado rather than a practical vehicle. They point to its unwieldy dimensions, which may pose challenges in tight European cities, and to the fact that not all drivers want to feel like they’re piloting a spacecraft to Tesco.
But Tesla has never been about following rules — it’s about rewriting them. Whether the Cybertruck will become a staple of British roads or remain a quirky icon in California driveways is still unclear. What’s evident, though, is that the company didn’t set out to build a traditional truck. It set out to start a conversation — and that part, at least, it’s already won.
The Cybertruck and the UK Market
It’s one thing to create a futuristic electric pickup for the open roads of Texas or the wide lanes of Los Angeles. It’s quite another to imagine that same vehicle navigating the narrower, more congested streets of London, Birmingham or Edinburgh. And that’s precisely where the Cybertruck’s global ambitions begin to wobble.
The UK has always had a distinct relationship with its roads. Compared to the sprawling highways of the United States, our infrastructure is tighter, older, and, frankly, less forgiving. The average UK parking space is about 2.4 metres wide — not a problem for your typical hatchback or compact SUV, but potentially a nightmare for a vehicle the size of the Cybertruck, which stretches to over 5.8 metres long and 2 metres wide, not including mirrors. That’s bigger than most vans on British roads. Getting one of these beasts into a multi-storey car park in Bristol or squeezing it into a residential space in Brighton might prove to be more trouble than it’s worth.
Then there’s the issue of compliance. The UK has strict road safety regulations and pedestrian protection standards that differ from those in the US. Tesla will likely need to modify the Cybertruck before it can be fully road-legal across the UK and Europe — especially given its sharp edges and heavy, rigid bodywork. Unlike traditional vehicles that crumple on impact to absorb energy, the Cybertruck’s hard exoskeleton raises concerns about how it would behave in collisions involving pedestrians or smaller cars.
Beyond legality and practicality, there’s also the cultural question. Pickup trucks have never dominated the UK market the way they have in America. Here, they’ve traditionally been tools for tradespeople, not lifestyle vehicles. The few models that do exist — the Ford Ranger, Toyota Hilux, Isuzu D-Max — are relatively modest, both in size and in image. The Cybertruck, by contrast, arrives not just as a machine, but as a statement. It’s a brash, attention-seeking object that seems to shout where British drivers generally prefer to whisper.
And yet, this could also be its edge. In a country where EV adoption is accelerating — with nearly a quarter of all new cars registered in 2024 being electric — there’s growing appetite for innovation. Tesla already enjoys a strong foothold in the UK market with the Model 3 and Model Y frequently topping sales charts. So there’s no doubt that the Cybertruck would find a loyal niche of buyers — tech enthusiasts, early adopters, and those who simply want to stand out.
There are also practical advantages that could appeal. With its huge battery pack, the Cybertruck could theoretically offer enormous range and act as a mobile power station, even capable of supplying energy back to a home. Its towing and cargo capacity might suit rural landowners, construction professionals, or adventurers seeking an all-in-one electric tool for both work and leisure. In theory, it could be the most capable EV on UK roads — if it can get through the gate.
But that’s a big “if.” Production delays, export approvals, and the as-yet unknown price point in pounds sterling all cloud the timeline. And let’s not forget that demand is likely to outstrip supply for quite some time, especially as Tesla continues to ramp up production at its Texas Gigafactory.
So will we see Cybertrucks squeezing past black cabs and double-deckers any time soon? Unlikely — at least not in numbers. But for a certain type of British driver, the ones who view driving not just as transport but as identity, the Cybertruck might just be weird and wonderful enough to work.
The Competition Is Already Here
While the Cybertruck may have grabbed headlines with its outlandish design and bold promises, it’s far from the only player in the electric pickup space — and by the time it arrives in meaningful numbers on British shores, the race may already be well underway.
Across the Atlantic, several automakers have been quietly — and efficiently — rolling out their own interpretations of what an electric truck should be. The Ford F-150 Lightning, for instance, takes a far more conservative approach. Visually, it looks like a traditional pickup. That’s intentional. Ford understood that many of its loyal customers wanted to embrace electric power without feeling like they were driving a spaceship. And it worked — early reviews have praised its usability, familiar layout, and seamless transition from petrol to electric. While the Lightning is currently available only in North America, Ford has a strong global footprint and the capacity to scale if demand arises.
Then there’s Rivian — a company that, much like Tesla in its early days, positioned itself as an innovator in the EV space. Its R1T pickup has already made waves in the US with its premium build, thoughtful interior, and genuinely off-road-ready performance. Rivian doesn’t have a European distribution network yet, but it’s reportedly eyeing international expansion, including the UK. With its more manageable size and subtler design, the R1T could be better suited for British roads than the Cybertruck.
Meanwhile, legacy automakers such as Volkswagen, GM, and Toyota are either developing or teasing their own electric utility vehicles, and Chinese manufacturers like BYD are advancing at lightning pace in the global EV market. In short, by the time the Cybertruck is road-ready for British drivers, the segment may be far more crowded than it was in 2019 when it first shocked the world.
Tesla’s advantage, of course, is its ecosystem. The company has a loyal fan base, one of the best public charging networks in Europe, and a software platform that continues to evolve long after the car is delivered. Over-the-air updates, autonomous driving features, and a uniquely tech-first approach to vehicle ownership are all part of the appeal. If you’re buying into Tesla, you’re not just buying a car — you’re buying into a vision of the future.
But competitors are catching up, both in tech and in branding. Ford’s BlueCruise and GM’s Super Cruise are beginning to rival Tesla’s Autopilot. And as more governments introduce EV incentives and infrastructure funding, the barriers to entry for new manufacturers are getting lower. This means Tesla is no longer the scrappy underdog — it’s the one being chased.
And that raises an uncomfortable question: is the Cybertruck arriving too late to define the market it once intended to dominate?
For British consumers, this may matter less than it seems. The competition is good — it gives buyers choice, keeps prices in check, and drives innovation. But it also means that the Cybertruck will have to prove itself not just as a conversation piece, but as a serious, usable, and reliable vehicle in a segment that’s rapidly maturing.
Hype, Speculation, and Market Reaction
When a Vehicle Becomes a Headline
From the moment the Cybertruck was unveiled, it has existed as much in headlines as on production lines. With its angular shell and apocalyptic energy, it quickly became a media darling — the kind of object that television anchors, YouTubers, and TikTok creators couldn’t stop talking about. But for all the attention, real-world deliveries remained elusive. For years, the Cybertruck was stuck in a state of quantum automotive existence: simultaneously a global phenomenon and something you couldn’t actually buy.
Tesla claimed over a million reservations in the first 12–18 months after launch. These weren’t firm orders, of course — just £100 (or $100) deposits, fully refundable. But they told a story. People weren’t just interested in buying the Cybertruck. They wanted to believe in it.
And that belief turned into real money — not for Tesla’s vehicle division, but for its share price. Any whisper of Cybertruck progress would send Tesla stock soaring. Musk, never shy about stirring speculation, used platforms like X (formerly Twitter) to fan the flames, teasing design tweaks, production milestones, and even video clips of the truck casually towing massive loads through the Texas mud. Investors lapped it up.
Speculative Gold or Product in Waiting?
Yet the longer the delays stretched on, the more the hype began to teeter into uncertainty. Would Tesla actually deliver on the bold promises? Could it meet crash standards? Would the price be remotely close to what was originally stated — a base model at under $40,000?
By 2024, expectations had shifted. Tesla removed price estimates from its website. Musk, in his usual unpredictable fashion, downplayed early production numbers and hinted that initial builds would be “beta” versions — essentially public prototypes. This gave loyalists something to hope for, but it also reinforced doubts among sceptics. In the UK, where consumer trust and reliability matter deeply in automotive purchases, that uncertainty doesn’t always translate well.
The British Investor and the Tesla Narrative
On this side of the Atlantic, Tesla has become a known quantity. Many UK investors have exposure to Tesla either directly or through tech-heavy global funds, and Musk’s ability to sway the market is no secret. But with the Cybertruck, some financial analysts have begun to wonder whether the product is a distraction more than a profit engine. Unlike the Model 3 or Y, which sold in the millions, the Cybertruck feels more like a limited-edition experiment — visually dramatic, but operationally uncertain.
Even so, the hype machine continues to churn. Early test units have begun trickling out in North America, with mixed reviews. Some call it visionary, others frustratingly impractical. It’s fast, yes. And it’s loud — not in sound, but in presence. But whether it’s the right fit for mass adoption in the UK remains up for debate.
A Culture Shift or a Niche Toy?
Is It Built for the Masses or the Millionaires?
One of the key promises Tesla made when the Cybertruck was revealed was accessibility. The idea of a futuristic, all-electric utility vehicle with performance on par with supercars — all for under $40,000 — sounded too good to be true. And, as time has passed, it seems that it was. While official UK pricing has yet to be confirmed, industry analysts suggest that by the time the Cybertruck makes its way across the Atlantic, it will likely cost well north of £70,000 — possibly more, depending on the configuration and import factors.
That price point places it firmly out of reach for most British drivers. Rather than being a truck for tradespeople, delivery services, or families who might otherwise consider a Nissan Navara or Ford Ranger, the Cybertruck risks becoming a novelty purchase — a tech toy for the well-off. In that sense, it may follow the path of the original Tesla Roadster: eye-catching, fast, and largely symbolic.
There’s also a psychological divide. The average British buyer tends to value understatement, efficiency, and practicality. A sharply angular, six-metre-long electric behemoth that looks like it rolled off the set of Blade Runner doesn’t quite align with that. Even in more affluent areas where luxury EVs are now commonplace, the Cybertruck might still draw confused stares rather than admiration.
Cultural Clash: America vs. Europe
In many ways, the Cybertruck is an embodiment of American ambition — big, bold, brash, and not particularly bothered with fitting in. It’s a statement piece, not just of technology but of identity. Owning one says something — and whether that’s “I love the future” or “I like being different” depends on who’s looking.
But the UK — and Europe more broadly — doesn’t always embrace this kind of messaging. Our streets are older. Our homes are smaller. Our appetite for excess is tempered by a sense of modesty and spatial reality. A vehicle that might be perfectly at home in a sprawling Texas suburb would feel like a spaceship trying to dock in a terraced driveway in Leeds.
Moreover, Europe already has its own vision of electric mobility: smaller EVs for dense cities, cleaner public transport, and bike infrastructure that is rapidly expanding. The Cybertruck doesn’t fit neatly into this picture. It’s not that the UK won’t tolerate eccentric vehicles — we’ve embraced everything from Smart cars to the Citroën Ami — but the Cybertruck asks more than just patience. It asks for space, infrastructure, and a cultural shift that may not arrive on its schedule.
Mirage or Milestone?
So, where does the Cybertruck really stand? Is it the herald of a new era in automotive design and engineering, or simply a beautifully packaged distraction — a silicon mirage that shines from afar but dissipates on closer inspection?
Tesla has never played by the rules, and with the Cybertruck, it isn’t just challenging conventions — it’s daring the entire industry to respond. Whether or not that gamble pays off depends on more than specs or styling. It hinges on whether drivers — particularly outside of the U.S. — can see past the theatrics and trust the truck to work, day in and day out, in the real world.
In the UK, that’s no small ask. British drivers are pragmatic. We care about road tax bands, kerb weight, tight parking bays, and whether a vehicle will actually squeeze through a Cornish village lane without removing a side mirror. The Cybertruck answers to none of that — and yet, perhaps that’s the point. It’s not trying to be everything to everyone. It’s trying to be a vision. A bold, polarising, unapologetically weird vision.
Will we see it outside a Sainsbury’s anytime soon? Probably not. But will it go down in history as one of the most talked-about vehicles of the decade? Without question.
And maybe, in a world where every new car looks like a slightly smoother version of the one before it, that’s already a kind of success.