Xiaomi’s ultra ambitions collide with hard reality Xiaomi

Xiaomi stormed into the automotive world by pitching the Ultra as a technological showpiece, a machine meant to challenge the most celebrated performance cars on the planet. The opening act looked extraordinary. Just ten minutes after the order system went live, the company announced 6,900 reservations. Two hours later, the magic figure of 10,000 was reached. The illusion did not last. A click driven by excitement and a signed purchase contract turned out to be very different commitments.

By the end of the year, thousands had shrunk to mere units, a shift that felt awkward rather than triumphant. In March, Xiaomi still spoke of record demand. By December, SU7 Ultra registrations collapsed to just 45 to 49 cars per month. Compared with the spring peak of more than 3,000 units a month, demand fell by nearly seventy times. Even if Xiaomi technically hit its annual target of selling 10,000 cars, the statistics masked an uncomfortable truth. In the second half of the year, the Ultra became a fringe product, awkwardly pushed by junior sales staff with little success.

Quality issues undermine the promise

Sales figures tell only half the story. The sharper edge lies in what Xiaomi engineers politely called software challenges, and what customers simply described as poor quality. In a major Chinese electric vehicle quality survey conducted in early 2025, the SU7 finished dead last, the most fault ridden model among 29 cars tested. In the phone business, bugs disappear with an update. In car manufacturing, physics is less negotiable. Owners complained about everything from warped bumpers and uneven body panels to ghost like software faults, including cars that decided to move on their own in the driveway.

Particularly damaging was the scandal surrounding the Ultra’s decorative elements. Carbon fibre air ducts, advertised as functional and aerodynamically beneficial, turned out to be little more than visual theatre. They cooled neither brakes nor motors. For buyers spending around 70,000 euros, this crossed a line. Hundreds demanded buybacks, arguing that at this price level, theatre belongs on a stage, not on a car.

Performance claims under pressure

Even the driving dynamics, so loudly promoted by Xiaomi, failed to escape criticism. Independent tests showed that under aggressive driving, the brakes overheated after just a few laps. For a car marketed with a record holding lap at Nürburgring, that raised uncomfortable questions. Xiaomi initially responded with a software limit that cut more than 600 horsepower to avoid risky situations. Buyers were unimpressed. Nobody pays for a four figure power output to use half of it.

The result is an image problem that no update can fully erase. The SU7 Ultra comes across as clever and fast, but let down by build quality that cannot keep pace with the ambitions of a technology giant. It feels less like a serious performance car and more like an expensive toy for grown ups.

While competitors watched with thinly disguised amusement, Xiaomi’s leadership tried to project calm, pointing to normal market dynamics. Yet such a dramatic cooling after the spotlight fades is hard to ignore. It shows that even the most loyal fan base has a financial pain threshold. Horsepower figures on a screen and eye catching acceleration times do not guarantee long term success in a market where heritage and status often outweigh processor speed.

For newcomers, the lesson is clear. The car industry moves slowly, remembers mistakes, and shows little mercy. It is a far harsher place than the fast cycling world of gadgets.