Do you need to preorder a Rivian?

May 2024

A car is one of the most expensive things most Americans will buy. Ninety-one percent of households own at least one car [US Census American Community Survey via Forbes]; transportation is the second largest expenditure in our monthly budgets (after housing) [Bureau of Labor Statistics via fool.com]. Transportation, though, isn’t really the point. Cars are about freedom. Independence. Exploration. Experiencing life. In America, cars really stand for something.

I’ve had good times in cars. Driving to pick up my high school sweetheart (now wife and mother to my children) in the family van. Winding up narrow switchbacks in a tropical rainforest in Hawaii behind the wheel of a 10 year old Ford Taurus rental with questionable brakes. Learning to drive stick in my dad’s brand new pickup so my roommate and I could make a 700 mile round trip weekend to pick up a vending machine we found on ebay. Hitting triple digits in a bright red Dodge Avenger on an empty freeway through the five different biomes of New Mexico. The most glorious, perfectly-balanced tail-out drift across six lanes turning right on red in a borrowed Miata with bald tires while it’s raining. Some of my good times in cars were about the car, but all my good times in cars were about the drive.

It’s worth noting that the automotive industry is huge in America, accounting for about 3% of GDP [Bureau of Economic Analysis via Deloitte Insights]. That’s around the same size as the entire arts & entertainment industry or all of the construction industry. Car companies accounted for 7 of the top 10 local TV ad buyers in 2023 [visualcapitalist.com]. There are a lot of people whose financial fortunes are tied up in the industry, and they really, really want you to buy cars. Do they care if you buy transportation? Not so much. Cars are different.

There are a lot of ways to get around if what you need is transportation. Your feet are a good start. A bike. The bus. A 1999 Camry with a sagging headliner and only two wheel covers left. This 2020 Rolls Royce Dawn convertible with an 8-speed automatic tranny, 6.6L V12 engine, and a clean carfax ($316,000, a “good value” at $14,000 below estimate). Whatever you pick, it’s going to tell people a lot about you, and that’s not all bad. The transportation aspect of cars is commoditized, and it’s why most new cars look about the same. The real money is in differentiation. What better differentiator is there than your very identity?

For several years, I imagined myself driving a Subaru WRX. I thought about what the acceleration would feel like. I thought about how the engine sounds. When walking past one parked on the street, I’d picture my life if that was my car I was walking up to. Eventually, I bought one, and it was great. It lived up to my expectations and was a lot of fun to drive. I probably had good times in that car, and I certainly loved it while I owned it. But I can’t quite recall any good car times I had with it, specifically. The anticipation was huge, and actually buying the car felt like an accomplishment. Years after selling it, I still occasionally get a nice residual from saying “Yeah, I had a WRX. A 2002. First year they were sold in the US.” I can’t help but feel like most of what I got out of this car was entirely meta: Dreaming about it. Making the purchase. Talking about it. I imagined myself as the kind of person who drives an all wheel drive turbocharged station wagon.

There’s a lot of enjoyment to be had in anticipation. Buildup, expectation, restraint, and deferred gratification are well-known phenomena, and research on dopamine delivery has added a lot to our understanding and conventional wisdom on how we react to rewards. “Everyone thought…dopamine would go up after the reward. That’s not when it goes up,” said Robert Sapolsky in 2011 when describing research on monkeys [https://www.dailymotion.com/video/xh6ceu (0m37s)]. Instead, dopamine actually goes up when the monkey gets a signal that the reward is coming. If monkeys could drive, would they be pre-ordering new cars? I say the answer is a resounding “Yes.”

A hundred dollars is not much to pay for 18 months of sweet, pleasurable anticipation. And to be sure, placing a pre-order for a Rivian R2 in 2024 means you will be anticipating for a minimum of a year and a half before the vehicle even goes into production in 2026 [https://www.theverge.com/2024/3/8/24094270/rivian-r2-reservation-number-price-refund]. I didn’t especially love cars any more than the next kid, but I did have a poster of a Dodge Viper on an oversized American flag background hanging from my wall for most of my boyhood. I wasn’t thinking about having the car; I was just thinking about the car. On the poster, as a toy, on TV, or on the street, reminders that a Dodge Viper exists thrilled me because they made my brain tingle with excitement. I knew what that car stood for, even if it was subconscious. My friend Chris sold his car and bought a used Viper (yellow) for about $30,000. His rationale? It was his dream car as a kid and you only live once. Why not?

What I want is more good times in cars, and experience tells me the car itself just isn’t going to be the main factor in getting me what I want. There is, after all, a certain magic to the basic, commoditized transportation aspect of cars. A good book, movie, or video game can transport you to another world. Most of my good times in cars were in places I’ve not visited before or since. I still try, but it’s hard to build anticipation for good times in cars based on what, where, and how I’ll drive. These memories feel too precious and fleeting to buy, and so I spend less time imagining great drives. I still have dream cars, but I’m dreaming less about the car and more about owning the car.

Ownership is a cheap stand-in for experience. Owning a Harley doesn’t compare to riding a Harley to Daytona bike week. Owning a Ferrari is nothing like a track day in a so-so sports car. We don’t buy things to own them, we buy them for how they make us feel. Anticipation and imagination are very powerful, though, so you might take great pleasure from seeing the Harley in the garage and thinking of bike week. This creates something of a conflict, because there are two different identities in tension with each other. You envision yourself as a biker, with all the associated leather, denim, chrome, tattoos, and attitude. You simultaneously are the type of person who stares at a parked Harley imagining bike week, thus earning the certain derision of all Harley owners who are currently actually riding their Harleys.

Cars are not all the same, even if they sometimes all look the same from the side. Most cars, though, are pretty good. They will get you from place to place. They will make you feel something. They will be safe and sometimes fun. They will certainly transport you. Chasing after great cars isn’t about the commoditized transportation aspect. It’s about the differentors. How the car feels, how it makes you feel about yourself, how you see yourself in it are where people spend the overwhelming amount of thought over these big, highly conspicuous purchases. There’s no denying that your car tells people a lot about you, and that makes people really want to find a perfect fit. Fantasy, imagination, anticipation, and identity play off each other to trigger all kinds of pleasure centers in our brains. We chase our dreams; the industry machinery chases more marginal profit.

Because it’s a lot of money and in most cases a big chunk of the family budget, car buying gets built up as being a big, important decision. I think this is worth reconsidering, though. Committing a big percent of your budget to a 60 month car loan is a big decision because you are spending a lot and committing yourself to keep spending for a long time. On the other hand, buying a reasonably priced used car that’s within your budget and will barely depreciate, is neither a big decision nor an important one. Chris wasn’t stressed about buying the Viper. He’d always wanted one, he could afford it, he can sell it if he doesn’t like it.

Signing up for a Rivian R2 preorder is a good use of $100. Anyone can anticipate a new car, but once your name is on the pre-order list it opens up all kinds of doors. Buy a t shirt and wear it proudly. Read the newsletters and updates. Watch the announcement videos. You are, after all, a Rivian R2 pre-owner now. You’re a part of something, and you and Rivian are ushering in a new era in affordable, eco-conscious design. Soak it all up, and bask in the warm glow of what will soon be. Test drive the first available models in 2026, and when it’s finally your turn in line to buy, get your $100 back and drive the cars you already have. Because the car won’t make a difference anyway.