While the rest of Volkswagen weeps, the raging bull pops prosecco

As mourning bells toll in the headquarters of the Volkswagen Group, somewhere in Sant’Agata Bolognese a V12 roars triumphantly through the Italian countryside. Lamborghini — the fire-breathing deity of thunder and smoke, a brand that has never once flirted with restraint or fuel economy — has not merely survived. It has flourished. Blossomed. Exploded into full, operatic glory.

Once teetering from one financial disaster to the next like a drunken matador, Lamborghini has finally found its rhythm — and its customers. In 2023, it sold 10,687 cars, up 5.7% from the year before. Revenue reached €3.09 billion, and profit surged to €835 million. This is no longer a niche toy brand for playboys with questionable taste — this is a full-blown industrial powerhouse, wrapped in carbon fibre and howling at 8,000 rpm.

So how did this happen?
Simple: Lamborghini refused to join the panic-stricken “let’s electrify everything immediately” parade.
While the rest of the industry was tripping over charging cables, Lamborghini was building the Urus — and selling 5,662 of them like hot ciabattas at a Neapolitan street market. The Huracán, that last glorious gasp of naturally aspirated freedom before the hybrid darkness descends, moved 3,609 units. Even the brand-new Revuelto — a car that sounds like a flamenco dancer and looks like an alien with a grudge against McLaren — found 1,406 homes. And someone even unearthed ten Aventadors from the back of a warehouse. Ten! Like discovering ten untouched bottles of 1961 Bordeaux under your floorboards.

And the future? Oh, it’s blindingly bright.
The Temerario is coming — a new V8-powered supercar with a name like a Spanish opera villain. And while other carmakers fall over themselves to shout “EV!” as loudly and as often as possible, Lamborghini is taking its time. They’re thinking, watching, and — crucially — learning.

Take Porsche, for example. Yes, they still make more money overall, but last year their sales dipped, profits melted like vanilla ice cream in the Sahara, and their 2025 outlook has all the vitality of a soot-spewing diesel in Greta Thunberg’s back garden.

Lamborghini isn’t leaping onto the green carousel with wide eyes and empty promises. They’ll join — eventually — but they’ll do it in a tailored suit, holding a whisky glass, and with a snarling V8 behind them like a loyal dragon.