A curious sight greeted those who tuned into the financial news this morning: the mighty Ferrari Luce, purveyor of quad-exhausted dreams and six-figure repair bills, found itself caught in a right old pickle. It seems the Italian stallion has been whinnying rather loudly about a certain Chinese electric vehicle competitor. The nerve.
The audacity. The sheer cheek of a nation that invented gunpowder to make a battery-powered car that doesn't spontaneously combust on the M25. Industry insiders suggest this could be the greatest opportunity for British manufacturing since someone first thought to fit a kettle with a whistle.
Indeed, our very own automotive sector is poised to exploit the gap like a fox eyeing an unattended hen house. But one must ask: is this a triumph for free trade or just another excuse for middle managers to expense a business-class flight to Shenzhen? The truth, as ever, lies in the fumes.
Let us not forget that Ferrari Luce's primary competitor in the luxury EV market is a company that once recalled all its cars because the dashboard icon for 'fog lights' was imperceptibly wrong. Meanwhile, British engineers are working tirelessly to produce an electric saloon that can navigate a speed bump without shearing off its undercarriage. The government, predictably, has preened and puffed about 'levelling up' the automotive sector, which is code for 'we want some of that sweet Chinese investment but with more union jack bunting.
' The whole affair is a glorious muddle, a magnificent farce played out on the M4 corridor. And the true winner? Not the consumer.
Not the environment. Oh no, it's the hedge fund managers who will short both stocks and buy a villa in the Maldives with their bonuses. But chin up, Britain.
You may not be able to build a reliable car, but by God, you can spin a narrative better than anyone. The gap is ours to exploit. If we can find the right-sized spanner.
