First it was whispers, then listings, then silence. Celebrities are quietly unloading Cybertrucks, and the signal is louder than hype. When Shaquille O’Neal walked away, selling every one he owned, the shock rippled far beyond gossip. If the boldest believers are cashing out, what do they know that buyers don’t? Value is sliding, trust is thinning, and a promised future suddenly feels experimental. Before you place a deposit, pause—because this exit may be the warning you were never told about.
Why Shaq’s Exit Isn’t Celebrity Gossip
When Shaquille O’Neal confirmed he’d sold all of his Cybertrucks, the internet buzzed like it always does with celebrity news. But this wasn’t about status or taste. Shaq wasn’t a casual buyer. He was a believer. He bought three Cybertrucks, publicly praising the vision and embracing the idea that this angular, stainless-steel machine represented the next era of American vehicles. Then—he was out. Completely.
For fans and would-be buyers, that raised a bigger question: why would a superfan bail so fast?
The Truck That Promised the Future
When Tesla unveiled the Cybertruck, it wasn’t marketed as just another pickup. It was positioned as a statement—bulletproof glass (remember that moment?), radical design, and the confidence that comes from Elon Musk promising disruption. Early adopters lined up to be part of the revolution.
But revolutions need momentum. And momentum is exactly what critics say the Cybertruck is losing.
A Value Slide That’s Hard to Ignore
Within roughly 12 months, resale data and listings suggest Cybertruck values have fallen by more than 35%. That’s a stunning drop for a new, hyped vehicle—one that outpaces depreciation across the pickup market by a wide margin. For owners who expected scarcity to protect value, the math isn’t working.
Why the slide? Analysts point to a mix of factors: polarizing design, quality concerns reported by early owners, delayed features, and a market cooling on novelty when practicality matters. The result is a truck that draws stares—but not necessarily confidence.
From Symbol to Punchline
Online, the Cybertruck has shifted from icon to meme. Its sharp angles dominate feeds, but often as jokes rather than praise. Owners report attention—just not the kind they hoped for. One viral quip summed it up: owning a Cybertruck doesn’t make you look powerful; it makes you look like a beta tester.
That stings because early buyers paid a premium to be first. Being first is thrilling—until it feels like you’re first to discover the flaws.
Why Celebrity Sell-Offs Matter
Celebrities don’t just buy cars; they influence narratives. When they sell quietly, it signals calculation, not impulse. They have access to advisors, data, and alternatives most buyers don’t. Their exits don’t prove a product is doomed—but they do suggest the risk-reward equation changed.
And when that happens in clusters, markets pay attention.
What Current Owners Are Saying
Talk to owners and you’ll hear mixed reviews. Some love the attention and performance. Others mention fit-and-finish issues, software quirks, and a learning curve that never quite ends. The biggest concern, though, is resale. When depreciation accelerates, enthusiasm cools fast.
Is This the End—or a Course Correction?
Tesla has weathered storms before. Updates, fixes, and price adjustments could stabilize confidence. But the Cybertruck isn’t just another model; it’s a bet on taste, timing, and trust. If those wobble, recovery takes more than patches.
The Decision Buyers Face Now
If you’re considering one, ask hard questions: Are you buying utility or identity? Can you live with rapid depreciation? Are you comfortable owning something still finding its footing?
Because when insiders start selling and believers step back, it’s worth listening.
The real cliffhanger isn’t whether celebrities sold. It’s whether the Cybertruck can win back the one thing it’s losing fastest—belief.