Jaguar Just Drove Another Nail Into Woke Capitalism’s Coffin

Carmaker’s Sales Collapse — Proving 'Go Woke, Go Broke' Isn’t Just a Slogan

Last year, I wrote about Jaguar’s disastrous woke rebrand and said this:

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a company so willingly toss out its entire brand identity to appease a loud, increasingly irrelevant minority of DEI zealots—until Jaguar came along.

I also predicted the company would "go belly-up within two years," and well, it looks like I may have been optimistic about the timeline.

I’ll get into the details in a second, but first—if you haven’t seen the ad at the center of Jaguar’s Copy Nothing campaign, here’s a quick reminder of what the century-old carmaker thought would reinvent its brand.

When I first saw that cringe-inducing spectacle featuring androgynous, body-positive, LGBTQ-friendly models prancing around to electronic music, I knew Jaguar had signed its own death warrant. But even I didn't anticipate the sheer scale of the destruction that would follow.

The Numbers Don't Lie

Here's where Jaguar stands about eight months after the launch of their catastrophic rebranding campaign:

• 97.5% drop in monthly European sales (April 2025 vs. April 2024).

• 93.6% drop in monthly European sales in May 2025.

• 77.8% decline in year-to-date European sales through April 2025.

• Market share now sits at a pathetic 0.1% in both Australia and the UK.

Overall, Q1 2025 Jaguar global wholesales plummeted 48% to just 7,070 units—essentially cut in half. And while we don't yet have Q2 2025 figures, those 90%+ European drops in April and May suggest Q2 will be even more devastating.

For context, when Bud Light went woke by partnering with Dylan Mulvaney—a transgender TikTok influencer known for documenting a gender transition—they lost about 30% of their sales. That was bad. But what happened with Jaguar? That’s not just a business failure—that’s a masterclass in corporate self-destruction.

Who Exactly Was This For?

When I analyzed Jaguar's target demographic using ChatGPT, the results showed their typical customer as: affluent, middle-aged to older adults (35-65+), professionals and executives, performance and luxury enthusiasts, predominantly male, traditional luxury consumers.

Does anyone at Jaguar honestly believe this demographic watched their ad featuring men in dresses and thought, "Golly, I need to get myself a Jaguar!"?

The answer, as we now know definitively, was a resounding "no."

And if anyone at Jaguar had been paying attention, the viewer reaction to the commercial should’ve been the first red flag. I didn’t see a single positive comment. But one in particular stood out:

Jaguar's pronouns are Was/Were.

Eight months later, looking at their sales apocalypse, that commenter looks like Nostradamus. Jaguar really did turn into a “was/were” company.

Now, Jaguar’s management is claiming this collapse was part of the plan—a “strategic pause” to reposition the brand as ultra-luxury and electric. But that framing doesn’t stand up to scrutiny.

What kind of carmaker thinks the best way to drum up excitement for new models is to disappear entirely?

A real strategy would’ve included some kind of transition—carryover models, marketing campaigns, something to keep the brand alive in the public consciousness.

Instead, they’ve pulled a vanishing act. If this is strategy, it’s bafflingly botched. Frankly, the whole management team should be shown the door.

I’m reminded of what Jaguar’s managing director Rawdon Glover once said:

We’d prefer to be loved by a distinct group of people rather than liked by lots of people.

Well, Rawdon, mission accomplished. Jaguar is now loved by about 49 people per month—the same number still buying your cars.

Did Jaguar Miss the Memo?

Someone ought to let Jaguar know—they’re late to the party.

We’re not in 2020 anymore. Since 2024, we’ve seen a cultural reset. Call it the end of woke, or just a long-overdue reality check—but it’s real. And since Trump’s return to the White House, that shift has kicked into higher gear.

Now, you wouldn’t know it watching Netflix or Disney (both still pumping out 2–3 year-old garbage), but the corporate winds have shifted. And hard.

If you’re skeptical, let’s look at some numbers.

You might remember the chart I shared a while back. It shows the dramatic collapse in mentions of ESG and DEI during earnings calls across companies in the Russell 3000 Index—which covers nearly every publicly traded firm in America, not just the big names.

And that was before Trump was even sworn in.

By 2025, polling showed 39% of U.S. corporations planned to scale back Pride Month involvement, with none saying they would increase it.

Companies like Mastercard, which launched elaborate Pride campaigns such as the month-long, omni-channel Your True Self is Priceless initiative in 2022, have gone completely silent on LGBTQ issues this year.

Wow. And here I was thinking they really “cared.”

Popular streamer Asmongold recently documented this corporate exodus, scrolling through major brand X accounts during Pride Month and finding... nothing. Radio silence from companies that, not long ago, were falling over each other to out-virtue-signal the rest.

Even more telling is what happened to World Pride in Washington, DC, which reportedly drew only 33% of its projected 3 million visitors.

You know why?

It’s tough to build buzz and attract crowds when major sponsors are fleeing. High-profile backers like Booz Allen Hamilton either pulled out entirely or asked not to be publicly credited. As a result, corporate fundraising came in at just half the target.

And it’s not just DC. Across other major cities—New York, San Francisco, and beyond—corporate Pride sponsorships dropped 20–30% this year.

Now, again, this corporate retreat from woke marketing didn’t start with Trump’s second term. If I had to pinpoint the real turning point, it was the massive backlash to Bud Light’s 2023 partnership with Dylan Mulvaney.

In that sense, Jaguar's management was asleep at the wheel. They launched their diversity-focused rebrand precisely as the market was rejecting corporate activism. They were the last passengers boarding a sinking ship. And now, well, it shows.

Jaguar’s transformation from iconic luxury brand to corporate virtue-signaling punchline will be studied in business schools for years to come—not as a bold rebrand, but as a cautionary tale of what happens when companies forget who actually pays the bills.

And the worst part? It was all self-inflicted.

Sure, Jaguar had problems. But they also had a storied legacy, a distinctive brand, and a loyal customer base. All they had to do was focus on making great cars and selling them to people who still care about driving.

Instead, they bent over backwards for a “distinct group of people” who, as it turns out, prefer walking.

Regards,

Lau Vegys

P.S. In case you missed it, we just put out the latest issue of Crisis Investing. We feature a rare earths pick that fits perfectly into Trump’s resource nationalism agenda—and it has a key edge most others don’t. Plus, Doug and I go over his favorite names in the portfolio, from metals to energy and more. Don’t miss it.