Text LUTZ FÜGENER
Identity is a productive force. In crowded markets, every product has its competitors, and the battle for the attention of potential customers is fundamental. The first goal is always perception; the second is a positive perception of the brand and its products. The tools for this are well known, and the most prominent among them is design. A proven method — yet rarely the most popular one. For senior managers, the relationship with design is often deeply ambivalent, because the results of this cauldron, operating according to its own rules, can neither be reliably evaluated nor calculated in advance. For a CEO with an engineering background — shaped by a world of precisely measurable values — it can certainly trigger traumatic states to be so fatefully dependent on the work of more or less eccentric designers when making billion-dollar decisions.
Lucky are those who can rely on other, ideally exclusive, instruments to achieve distinctiveness and visibility for their products. Tesla, the world’s most valuable car manufacturer by market capitalization, is one of these exceptions. The identity of products with the stylized »T« on the hood rests on at least several pillars. Design is one of them, but probably not the most important. The design of Teslas does not polarize; it is fine — good craftsmanship, nothing more, nothing less. The exception, of course, is the Cybertruck. It seems to exist to defend the honor of Tesla’s design department, proving that it can design disruptively, right up to the pain threshold if necessary — a matter of honor for designers. However, Tesla’s identity is based more on the narrative of the American Dream, the saga of the intrepid adventurer and resourceful entrepreneur. In the recent pioneering period of electric mobility, the products carried the aura of innovation and forward thinking. The spirit of Silicon Valley to take home. Because once you are in it, you are part of it. Future technology, innovation, entrepreneurial success, non-conformity, and the guarantee of being on the right side when it comes to climate protection — a booster for one’s own identity and well worth the money. And as a bonus, owning a Tesla relieved its users of the suspicion of having fallen victim to a clever marketing campaign, because design is often perceived as an accomplice to manipulative marketing. Admittedly — not entirely unjustified.

Introduced as a concept car in 1971, the Lamborghini Countach went into production in 1974, writing a new chapter in automotive history: the pioneering supercar broke with all visual habits and deliberately polarized.
The Tesla phenomenon is interesting because recent events have produced an effect that reveals the motivations of its users with the clarity of a laboratory experiment. Through clumsy interference in US and global politics, CEO Elon Musk has created unpredictable dynamics in the perception of the brand, and some formerly convinced Tesla disciples now find themselves, through no fault of their own, on the wrong side, or at least in an unfavorable light — without having moved at all. The boundaries simply shifted beneath them. And so one now sees the apologetic confession on the rear of some Teslas: »I bought this before Elon went crazy.« At least for these customers, it can be considered proven which part of the brand’s original identity was an important, or even decisive, impulse for the purchase decision. This kind of revealing statement from users of an automotive product is rare — but to rise above it would be cheap. Let he who is without vanity cast the first stone!

The design of the Tesla Cybertruck was inspired by the DeLorean DMC-12 — known from the film trilogy »Back to the Future.« The 5.68-meter long and 3.1-ton pickup seems to show that the Tesla design department can also design radically disruptively if necessary.

Identity through cult status: The Yugo’s high level of recognition to this day is remarkable. Produced from 1981 to 2008 by the former Yugoslavian, and later Serbian, car manufacturer Zastava, the model gained its ultimate breakthrough in America after being voted the »worst car in the USA« — Americans, after all, love underdog stories.
It is in the nature of things that, in a costly purchase decision such as that of an automobile, not only the product itself — in its technical design and properties — represents a compromise; the reasons that ultimately lead to the purchase are also the result of a weighing process. It is difficult to say which argument prevails in each case, because the attributes to be considered form a long list, from A for everyday usability to Z for reliability. D for design is always present, but its effect is usually difficult to quantify. Only in the exotic world of so-called supercars is comparison sometimes easier, since they are freed from many constraints — above all, that of having to be practical in the conventional sense. Even the criterion of value for money, which ranks high for family vehicles, is secondary or even irrelevant in this elite sphere. These adult toys therefore offer a useful example of the effect and creation of identities.
Traditional protagonists of this market segment are Ferrari and Lamborghini — two brands that seem fatefully linked. If the stories are to be believed, the successful tractor manufacturer Ferruccio Lamborghini once felt taken advantage of, and even disrespected, by the manufacturer of his own Ferrari 250 GTO. So, in 1963, he decided to produce his own sports cars from then on — and to do it better. The history of the young company was thus marked from the beginning by a very particular challenge: the permanent comparison with the industry leader based in Maranello, only 35 kilometers away. This is especially interesting because, for this type of automobile, there are essentially two identity-forming disciplines: design and performance. Lamborghini was already doing quite well in both, but creating an identity of its own for the young brand — beyond the claim of being an anti-Ferrari — proved existential.

The Miura was Lamborghini’s first major emancipatory step in its constant comparison with market leader Ferrari. With its innovative technology and aesthetics, it would profoundly shape not only Lamborghini’s own history, but also the supercar segment as a whole.


The Countach is considered the most influential model in Lamborghini’s history. Like the Miura, the vehicle was designed by legendary Italian designer Marcello Gandini, then chief designer at Studio Bertone.
But today — in times of rapidly developing electric drives — completely different rules apply: the power of an electric drivetrain is, de facto, almost arbitrarily scalable. For example, the battery and car manufacturer BYD has already exceeded the 3,000 hp mark with its Yangwang U9 Xtreme model and shows no signs of stopping there. Even four-door sedans can now boast electrically generated outputs of more than 1,500 hp and accelerate to 100 km/h in less than two seconds. These new horsepower acrobats now reliably deliver the racetrack records and lap times necessary for image building. Those who continue to run their engines on gasoline can no longer win in this discipline due to technical limitations.
To what extent the cyberpunks in their innovative electric rockets are poaching customers from traditional manufacturers in Italy and England cannot be analyzed in detail. However, there should be no reason for pessimism: the number of people who qualify as potential buyers solely by virtue of their wealth is constantly growing — currently, around five new billionaires are emerging worldwide each week. So the pie is getting bigger, and the fight for shares is more worthwhile than ever.

The Lamborghini Design Study Manifesto was presented on the occasion of the 20th anniversary of Lamborghini Centro Stile and has the makings of a »Countach effect«: independent, simple, timeless. Transformed into an actual product, this design has the potential to become the new benchmark for Lamborghini’s future identity.

While the market continues to grow, the classic strengths of traditional brands are losing traction. The toolbox of established competitors is visibly emptying, and the focus is increasingly shifting to aesthetics — and not only formal ones. For many customers, the electric motor cannot yet replace the emotional and sensory quality of an internal combustion engine. If mechanical complexity becomes technical sophistication and noise emissions become sound, then the eight- to twelve-cylinder engine relates to the electric motor like a mechanical luxury chronograph to a digital watch. Aesthetics decide success and failure — at Lamborghini, this responsibility has rested with chief designer Mitja Borkert since 2016.
On the occasion of the twentieth anniversary of the design studio in Sant’Agata Bolognese, Borkert presented a design intended to define Lamborghini’s design language for the future. The study, named Manifesto, is not a concept car, not even a visual model of a car, referred to in the industry as a mock-up. Manifesto is a form study, high-gloss painted and predominantly made of hard foam. One could dismiss it as a hastily created treat for the festive celebration of the aforementioned anniversary. However, one could also view the design as a decision about the fate of the brand at a time when the profits of traditional sports car manufacturers can collapse almost overnight and the cards are being completely reshuffled in this elite part of the industry as well. Borkert is always faced with the task of reaching the level of his mostly red-painted competition and all other old and new competitors, without getting too close to them thematically — not easy when all must enclose a technical package that is almost identical in its dimensions and proportions. Often, the designs from Sant’Agata Bolognese have stood out through distinctiveness, excessive angularity, even deconstruction. Manifesto, however, has the makings of a »Countach effect«: independent, simple, timeless. Transformed into an actual product, this design has the potential to become the new benchmark for Lamborghini’s future identity.
In these currently turbulent times, Stephan Winkelmann — Lamborghini’s eloquent president — will also have to jump into the deep end. Borkert has at least shown him a spot where it is deep enough.
FIRST PUBLISHED IN CHAPTER №XIII »IDENTITY« — WINTER 2025/26

