Luo Yonghao Criticizes Xibei, Striking a Chord with Car Enthusiasts

This September, the tech and food industries had a heated argument, which unexpectedly reflected the diverse situations in the automotive industry.

The protagonist of the event is Luo Yonghao, known as both an "industry beacon" and a "master of roast." He directly slammed the catering giant Xibei, accusing them of lying 100% when they claimed to have no pre-made dishes, arguing that since the country has no standards yet, how can they say otherwise?

Xibei's response can be described as textbook-level public relations: first, they issued a stern statement condemning the false claims; next, they announced the opening of their nationwide kitchens and even factories and farms for public supervision; finally, founder Mr. Jia Guolong personally stepped in, wielding legal weapons, and emphatically presented the ultimate argument: "According to national regulations, we do not have a single dish that is pre-prepared."

For a moment, the steamed buns in the hands of the onlookers from Northwest China lost their appeal, as everyone fell into philosophical contemplation: Who ultimately decides whether a dish is pre-made? Is it the chef? The entrepreneur? The internet celebrity? Or... the official national standards written in black and white?

The smoke of this defining battle has yet to clear, yet I am amazed to find that the same identity crisis and struggle for definition are being fiercely played out in our automotive industry.

01Is the "pie" drawn by WM pre-made dishes?

Just as Luo Yonghao and Jia Guolong were fiercely debating the definition of pre-made dishes, the long-silent WM Motor suddenly served up a “main course”—a brand new five-year development plan.

This "dish" is quite luxurious: In September, the Wenzhou base resumed mass production of the WM Motor EX5 and E5 models, ensuring an annual production and sales of 10,000 units and revenue of 1 billion yuan; preparation for an IPO will be initiated before 2028; by 2030, the goal is to achieve an annual production of 1 million units and revenue of 120 billion yuan.

However, when hungry consumers and investors take a closer look, they can't help but feel uneasy: this... is a tantalizing "pie" that can't be eaten! More importantly, how should we "define" WM Motor's new dish?

You say it's a pre-made dish, but its planning is too grand, with ingredients (10 new models) as diverse as a full Manchu-Han banquet. You say it's freshly cooked, but its chef (WM Motor) has previously produced dishes (mass-produced models) that were either undercooked or abandoned afterward. Many old diners (car owners) are still troubled by the kitchen's (after-sales) lack of support.

WM Motor's predicament lies in its eagerness to define a bright and dazzling future for us, yet it struggles to properly define its precarious present. This is quite similar to Xibei emphasizing the wok hei of freshly cooked food while being unable to completely eliminate the pre-processing steps of a central kitchen.

Jia Guolong can say, "According to current national standards, I'm not pre-made food," but can WM Motor say, "According to industry standards, I'm not just a PPT car maker"? When even the most basic needs for a reassuring dining experience (stable production, reliable after-sales service) cannot be guaranteed, what is the point of arguing which cuisine this pie that WM Motor has drawn belongs to?

02Hidden door handles: smart technology or gimmick?

If the battle for WM is a fight to define a business model, then the controversy over hidden door handles is a battle that more closely relates to the practical and safety definitions from the user's perspective.

This trend, led by Tesla, has quickly become a symbol of high-end, intelligent, and minimalist design. It's as if without hidden door handles, you wouldn't even feel confident greeting others and calling yourself a new force.

But its shortcomings, just like Xibei’s pre-made dishes, can’t be hidden no matter how hard you try.

The "Frozen Throne," a winter exclusive in northern regions, occurs when, after a snowfall, the door handle and car door become one. No matter how much you scrape, pound, or pour hot water, it remains unmoved, leaving the car owner to stage a desperate "ice-breaking operation." Meanwhile, after a collision that cuts off power, can it successfully pop open? Can rescue personnel quickly find the mechanical switch within those crucial golden minutes? This has become a matter of probability.

In response, a netizen's comment hit the nail on the head: "The primary characteristic of a door handle is safe usage—and it must ensure safe usage in all kinds of unexpected situations!"

Look at how simple and straightforward the user's definition is: I don't care how technological or aesthetically pleasing you think it is, its primary requirement must be safety and reliability. Any design that sacrifices basic safety for the sake of aesthetic form is rogue behavior.

There are rumors that this design may be "cut" or regulated, and netizens are rejoicing, saying "it's about time."

This is very much like consumers' attitudes towards prepared dishes: we do not oppose industrialization and standardization, but what we hate is being deceived. If you openly admit that your product is a prepared dish and clearly label the price, then it is my choice whether to consume it or not. But if you insist on claiming that the prepared dish is freshly cooked and package cost-cutting, efficiency-driven designs as "disruptive innovation" or "future aesthetics," then you are challenging the intelligence and limits of your customers.

The controversy over hidden door handles is essentially a battle for the right to define, where users vote with their feet. Car manufacturers define it as "cool," while users are redefining it as superfluous with their frozen fingers and concerns about safety.

In summary, Luo Yonghao criticizes Xibei, WM Motor draws a new pie, and door handles are ridiculed. These three seemingly unrelated events actually share the same core issue: in an era where concepts are flying everywhere, whose definition should we trust?

Xibei says: According to national standards, I'm not pre-made food—it's defining itself by the lowest standards; WM Motor says: Look at the planning, I am the future top trend—it's defining itself by the highest vision; Automakers say: Look at the design, this is technological aesthetics—it's defining itself by the most flashy form.

And the user? The user says, "I don't care how you define it, I only care if the food is good, if the car is safe, and if promises are kept."

The definition of a user is often the most simple, fundamental, and indisputable essential need.

Ultimately, the endgame for automobiles is not about whose presentation is more glamorous, whose concept is more advanced, or whose door handle is more concealed. It ultimately comes back to the most fundamental attributes of safety, reliability, and comfort. Similarly, the value of a company does not lie in how cleverly it exploits loopholes in standards to absolve itself or how grand its plans are, but in whether it can steadfastly make every dish well, build every car with care, and serve every customer properly.

So, instead of getting caught up in word games and conceptual definitions, it’s better to focus on making the dishes tastier rather than fighting tooth and nail to prove "I am not pre-prepared food." Instead of hastily announcing a grand feast of ten new car models, it might be wiser to first serve a bowl of comforting porridge to current users. Instead of fixating on whether the door handle is hidden, it’s more important to ensure that the door can be smoothly opened by both the owner and rescuers in any situation.

Ultimately, the power of definition always lies in the hands of those users who vote with their hard-earned money and personal experiences.