
Nobody likes buying a car from a dealership. That’s not really an opinion at this point, it’s just consensus. A widely cited industry survey found 87% of people disliked something about the process, and if you’ve ever spent an afternoon waiting for a stranger to “check with his manager” over a number that was never real to begin with, you know that stat is generous.
So when a company came along and said, fine, we’ll just sell you the car ourselves — no showroom haggling, no surprise fees buried in the paperwork — you’d think the industry would take the hint and clean up its act. Instead it went to state legislatures. Fourteen states still ban Tesla from selling you a car directly. Texas is the best example: Tesla builds cars at a factory in Austin, and because of the state’s dealer-franchise law, those cars have to leave the state and come back before a Texan is allowed to buy one. Shipped out. Shipped back. Sold. Nine more states cap how many stores a direct-sales manufacturer can open, which is just banning it slowly instead of all at once.
Washington just gave a good look at how this actually moves when it moves at all. Rivian and Lucid were locked out the same way Tesla was for over a decade, until Rivian put $4.6 million behind a ballot measure that would have wiped out the state’s dealer-protection law entirely. Suddenly the lobby that had blocked expansion for years found its way to the table, and a bill passed the legislature almost unanimously. But look at how narrow the fix actually is. US-based only. All-electric only. No history of selling through a franchise dealer. A service center already open in the state. At least 300 vehicles already registered before this year. That’s not a state deciding direct sales are fine. That’s a state writing a law tight enough to let three companies through the door while keeping it bolted shut for everyone else.
Meanwhile, a guy who actually worked the sales floor looked at how much people hate the process and built a business fixing it from the buyer’s side instead. Tomi Mikula runs a company called Delivrd, and for $1,000 he and his team of negotiators will handle the whole miserable process for you — livestreamed to over half a million followers who apparently find watching a car deal more entertaining than living through one. He’s pulling in something like $200,000 a month doing it. Some dealers won’t even take his calls anymore. One called him a liar on camera and started calling him Bubba. That’s what it looks like when a market actually responds to a problem instead of legislating the response away.
Here’s the part that gets me. I don’t have an issue with regulation that solves a real problem — genuinely, I don’t. What bothers me is regulation that exists to protect one industry from a better idea and gets dressed up as something else. Nobody passed these franchise laws to protect you from a bad car-buying experience. They passed them to protect dealerships from ever having to fix one.
My two cents: if 87% of people hate how you sell something, the fix isn’t a law that stops someone else from selling it better.
[…] back to. The franchise laws were sold as consumer protection. If you’ve read my posts on which states still block Tesla and what North Dakota’s law was really for, you know where I land. A rule that protects a […]