BRING BACK THE JAG: The Death of Jaguar & a Formula for its Grand Comeback

In this deep-dive editorial, we explore the dramatic fall and potential rise of Jaguar - a once-legendary British car brand that lost its way in a sea of sterile rebrands and misguided marketing. This blog serves as our take and retelling of this cautionary tale and a bold blueprint for any company facing the same dilemma. From legacy automotive insights to razor-sharp branding advice, we cover Jaguar’s history, its most iconic ads, the current misfires in brand direction, and offer a provocative, passion-fueled marketing formula to bring it roaring back. Ideal for marketers, creatives, and automotive enthusiasts alike, this piece is a masterclass in turning brand failure into a global comeback in the cultural climate of 2025.

What happened to Jaguar?

We didn’t hate it. We forgot it.

That’s the worst fate a legendary brand can suffer. Not scandal or rejection, but simple, passive disinterest, accelerated by ideological marketing misfire and poor execution.

As the electric car boom gained momentum and consumers shifted their attention to the battery boxes from California and China, Jaguar tried to reinvent itself. The strategy wasn’t to fight back, but to follow the crowd. And it followed the wrong crowd.

Jaguar's pivot wasn’t subtle. The designers and marketers threw a rebrand party with fireworks, glitter and a complete identity transplant. Gone were the restrained, dignified machines that snarled through British countryside lanes. In their place, we got high-fashion EVs dressed like they were going to a Berlin art gallery. Explosive colours. Futuristic lines. Interiors that felt like boutique hotel lobbies. A botched plastic surgery that turned a British royal into Sir Lizardface Buzzkillington. And that's when we started hating it, before forgetting it again.

The cars themselves weren’t sterile, but the branding was. The logo had all the energy of a mindfulness app. The campaigns, meanwhile, looked like diversity stock footage stitched together by a planning committee.

The messaging no longer spoke to drivers. It whispered corporate apologies into the void, afraid to commit to power, class or even masculinity. The brand that once symbolised British pride and mechanical excellence now resembled a lifestyle lecture on progressive urban mobility. It felt like watching your petrolhead teenage son come home in biodegradable sneakers, humming Katy Perry, sipping oat milk (not healthy and not sustainable, by the way) and explaining why four wheels are a colonial construct after he jumped into traffic to piss off the blue collar commuters as a protest against oil companies.

The betrayal wasn’t in going electric. That’s inevitable. The betrayal was abandoning everything Jaguar stood for in the process. There was no tension, no bite, no identity left to care about. And that’s why we forgot it. But it’s not too late. The blood is still in the engine. The culture has pain points to touch on. The roar can come back. And this is how you do it.

Woke Formula for Classic Brand Suicide

There’s a formula to destroying a brand. It’s been tested, proven, and repeated across industries. First, you decouple it from its origins. Then, you try to reinvent it in the image of your desired audience instead of your actual audience. Finally, you trade your loyalists for a fantasy demographic that never really cared. Jaguar followed this formula to the letter. Let's break it down.

Step 1: Kill the Past

The first red flag came in the form of logo redesign. Gone was the three-dimensional chrome leaper that once evoked motion, aggression, and heritage. In its place came a flat, dead-eyed, sans-serif abstraction. Modernism stripped of emotion. The jaguar had been declawed. It was a logo fit for a fintech app, not a snarling British performance brand.

But it didn’t stop there. Every trace of legacy, tone, and attitude was scrubbed out of Jaguar’s digital and visual language. Marketing collateral went from brooding cinematic storytelling to sterile gradients and empty taglines. The new branding looked like it had been pulled from a Scandinavian UX agency’s pitch deck. It spoke in corporate slogans. The cat had found PowerPoint.

Step 2: Chase the Ghost Demographic

Jaguar’s fatal misstep was trying to appeal to an audience that didn’t want it in the first place - the “urban progressive”, sustainability-obsessed, tech-forward driver who shops at Aesop and treats their car like an appliance. That customer already had a Tesla. Or a Polestar. Or nothing at all. Jaguar wasn’t even in the room.

Instead of doubling down on its petrolhead DNA, the brand tried to appease the design Twitter crowd. The type who praise minimalism, but have never once heard the sound of a straight-six on full throttle. The new Jaguar wasn’t made for enthusiasts. It was made for brand consultants trying to get shortlisted at the Cannes Lions festival.

Step 3: Fire the Guns, Aim Nowhere

The actual campaign execution was as confused as the strategic direction. The new positioning promised “a quiet revolution”, but failed to articulate what was being revolted against. Jaguar announced it would become “all-electric” by 2025, a bold move - but without a single compelling product or platform to show for it. There was no concept car, no design preview, no flagship EV to lead the charge. Just a promise and a color palette.

Simultaneously, internal reshuffles gutted key parts of the product and marketing teams. Long-time Jaguar leads were replaced or repositioned under a consolidated “House of Brands” JLR structure. Creative direction splintered. The unified vision that led to successes like the British Villains campaign was replaced with a set of disconnected digital assets that had all the personality of a UN PowerPoint deck.

The I-PACE, once a strong early entry into the electric field, was left to languish without meaningful updates. New model development slowed to a crawl. Instead of teasing the future with confidence, Jaguar looked like it was apologising for its past.

Step 4: Alienate the Faithful

Legacy buyers - Jaguar’s core audience - didn’t just feel left out. They felt betrayed. People who bought an XJ for its presence, who loved the F-Type’s menace, were now being told that those values were outdated. That “heritage” was baggage. That they were part of the problem.

Even automotive journalists and enthusiasts, who had once cheered Jaguar’s renaissance under Ian Callum, began to openly mock the brand’s new direction. “The world didn’t need another soulless electric blob,” one reviewer noted. “It needed a Jaguar.”

What made it worse was the sense of desperation. The rebrand reeked of boardroom panic - a bid to stay relevant in a climate of ESG buzzwords and shareholder appeasement. But relevance isn't won by abandoning your character. It’s earned by evolving it, carefully, with conviction. What Jaguar did was amputate.

Step 5: Wait for the Silence

The public’s reaction? A shrug. The so-called revolution launched without sound, impact, or interest. Sales didn’t spike. Buzz didn’t build. Social engagement was low. Enthusiast forums went quiet. Press coverage was polite, cautious, and brief.

In the absence of vision, the vacuum grew. Consumers couldn’t define the new Jaguar, because Jaguar itself had become undefined. It was just another car company making abstract promises in lowercase Helvetica.

Brand as a Woke Experiment

Whether intentional or simply inept, Jaguar’s rebrand became a textbook case of what happens when identity is sacrificed for woke optics. The company didn’t evolve its story. It abandoned it. It tried to be everything to everyone (except, you know, the patriarchy, every straight white person, middle-age or retired Brits - the target demographic) and became nothing to anyone.

The original Jaguar was a rebel. It challenged the German establishment. It oozed confidence. It had grace and menace in equal measure. The new Jaguar isn’t even a shadow of that creature. It’s an idea with no claws, no character, and no category. A beige ghost floating in the sterile corridors of post-branding. If you want to study how to kill a brand, study this.

The History of the Jaguar Brand

Every classic car fan would agree with the romantic sentiment that Jaguar was born out of ambition and transformed into legend.

It began in 1922 as the Swallow Sidecar Company, building motorcycle sidecars before stepping into full vehicle production. By the 1930s, the company had shifted its focus entirely to cars and rebranded as Jaguar, a name chosen to evoke speed, beauty and danger.

Throughout the 1950s and 60s, Jaguar became the embodiment of British automotive excellence. The XK120 broke speed records. The D-Type won Le Mans three years in a row.

The E-Type arrived in 1961 and instantly became a cultural icon. Enzo Ferrari called it the most beautiful car ever made. Movie stars, musicians and aristocrats bought them in droves. Jaguar was elegance with teeth.

In the decades that followed, Jaguar went through turbulent times. Ownership changed hands from British Leyland to Ford and eventually to Tata Motors. Quality wavered. Identity diluted. But even when the cars misfired, the brand retained an aura. A Jaguar was never boring. Never faceless. It stood for something, even if the execution sometimes didn’t hit the mark.

What kept it alive was the mythology. The racing pedigree, the visual elegance, the snarl under the bonnet. Jaguar represented a version of Britain that refused to apologise for being fast, stylish and slightly dangerous.

That version is still powerful. Still bankable. Still sorely needed.

Top 5 Jaguar Ad Campaigns

Before the rebrands, before the identity crises, before the soul got sucked out of the leaping cat, Jaguar had a run. A real run. Not just as a manufacturer, but as a symbol of power, elegance, and something distinctly British.

Its advertising campaigns weren’t just commercials. They were declarations. Statements of taste. Of defiance. Of class wrapped in leather and chrome.

Here are 5 ad campaigns that illustrate this history:

1. British Villains – “Rendezvous” (2014)

Super Bowl XLVIII. America’s biggest advertising stage. Jaguar didn’t play it safe. It went full theatrical. Ben Kingsley, Mark Strong, and Tom Hiddleston, three of Britain’s finest onscreen villains, cruising in an F-Type around London while explaining why Brits make the best bad guys. Polished narration, sweeping shots, and the payoff line: “It’s good to be bad.”

The ad was pitch-perfect. Elegant, arrogant, cinematic. It made Jaguar cool again - dangerous, seductive, and entirely self-aware. For one glorious minute, it felt like the brand had remembered exactly who it was.

2. Tom Hiddleston – “The Art of Villainy” (2014)

A follow-up to the Super Bowl success, this shorter spot had Hiddleston monologuing from the backseat of a Jaguar, waxing lyrical about how to become the perfect villain. The performance was campy but poised, the direction tight. The message? Jaguar drivers weren’t nice guys. They were schemers. Thinkers. Operators.

It was luxury reimagined not as safety or status, but as mischief and magnetism. That mattered.

3. Desire (2013) – Starring Damian Lewis

Part short film, part ad campaign, Desire was Jaguar’s attempt at merging Hollywood with horsepower. Set in the Chilean desert, Damian Lewis plays a mysterious fixer caught in a web of violence, charm, and burnt rubber - all to deliver a red F-Type.

The ad didn’t just show the car. It romanticised it. Lana Del Rey’s “Burning Desire” played in the background. The cinematography was art-house cinema quality. It framed the F-Type not as transportation, but as a co-star.Jaguar wasn’t just selling you a vehicle. It was selling you a fantasy. An identity.

4. E-Type “Growler” Ad (1960s)

Back in the golden age, Jaguar didn’t need celebrities or short films. The E-Type sold itself - raw curves, chrome fangs, and an engine note that sounded like seduction.One of the standout ads from that era featured a head-on view of the E-Type, close-up on the iconic oval grille. No dramatic voice-over. No cheap tricks. Just a caption that read something close to: “Some cars are just born looking fast.”

It was enough. Everyone knew what the E-Type meant. Enzo Ferrari called it the most beautiful car ever made and the public agreed.

5. “Grace. Space. Pace.” (1950s–60s)

Not one ad, but an entire era. Jaguar’s most famous slogan was a promise of luxury, innovation, and performance in equal measure. Print ads from this era were clean, confident, and aspirational without pretension.

A 1957 ad for the Mk1 saloon reads, “With Jaguar, motoring becomes something more than travel. It becomes enjoyment.”  That’s the tone Jaguar had back then. Smooth, assured, effortlessly classy.

“Grace. Space. Pace.” was a product philosophy - back when copy was the priority.

These campaigns weren’t just marketing. They were chapters in Jaguar’s cultural mythology. They aligned the product with an idea - with taste, rebellion, precision, and heritage. And they did it without desperation or digital trickery.

Back then, Jaguar was desirable because it knew what it was. It leaned into its Englishness, its edge, and its elegance. These ads, especially the ones from 2013 to 2014, were arguably the last time Jaguar’s branding truly aligned with its product and purpose.

Today, we’re being asked to forget all this. To believe that a silent EV with a neutered logo and a startup aesthetic is the natural next step. But memory isn’t so easily overwritten.

You can kill the cat. You can clip its claws. But as long as these ads exist, as long as we remember how it used to roar, the spirit of Jaguar lives on - waiting for someone bold enough to bring it back.

The Present State of Jaguar

The recent past of Jaguar is defined by confusion, overspending and the wrong kind of reinvention. In 2021, Jaguar announced a full transition to an all-electric luxury brand, complete with a new design direction, brand identity and positioning. The goal was to relaunch the entire lineup by 2025 under a new electric-only strategy.

To do this, Jaguar hired outside help. Chief among them was the creative agency Spark44, who had long handled Jaguar’s global marketing. But things quickly fell apart. The new brand direction, despite being packaged as modern and visionary, came across as hollow and misplaced. It pushed away Jaguar’s loyal fanbase without attracting any new tribe to replace it.

The visual identity was flattened. The design language lost its edge. The ad campaigns shifted toward conceptual generalities rather than product-led storytelling. The cars became expensive design experiments rather than practical vehicles with heritage appeal. In short, Jaguar tried to become a tech company. And it failed.

By late 2022, internal reshuffles began. Spark44 was folded back into Accenture Song, and Jaguar’s relationship with them was restructured. Executives behind the failed push were moved around or removed. Thierry Bolloré, CEO of Jaguar Land Rover, resigned suddenly in 2022 citing “personal reasons” - a line that in this industry is often a velvet-wrapped firing. A new CEO, Adrian Mardell, stepped in with a mandate to steady the ship.

Sales have suffered. Jaguar’s global volume dropped to just over 43,000 vehicles in 2023, down from 180,000 almost a decade ago. Dealers are frustrated. The public is confused. Jaguar hasn’t produced a new mass-market model since 2019. The current lineup is stale, and the promised electric reboot is now years behind schedule.

The bottom line is simple. The rebrand flopped. The leadership panicked. And now, the slate is open again. The future is unwritten. That is the only reason this conversation still matters.

Schema for Jag’s Comeback: The Car

If Jaguar wants to matter again, it needs to build cars that make people feel something. The best way to do that isn’t to copy what Tesla is doing. It’s to rediscover what Jaguar did best, then bring it into the present.

Start with the design. Reissue classic silhouettes like the E-Type, the XJ Coupe or the XJS. Update them with modern safety standards, new materials and subtle reinterpretations. Offer two powertrains: electric and hybrid. The hybrid for those who still want a growl. The electric for those who want silence but not sterility.

Don’t ignore the sound. Embrace it. Add engineered audio profiles that bring back the visceral thrill of a snarling Jag. Let people choose between vintage roar, modern purr or pure silence. Give them something to bond with.

Pricing should be realistic. Jaguar was never a billionaire’s toy. It was a dream within reach. Keep the primary range aspirational, not untouchable. Offer limited editions for collectors, but build the core cars for the road and for the people who actually want to drive.

Formula for Jag’s Comeback: The Brand

Jaguar’s brand has been diluted by the need to appear progressive, palatable and platform-ready. The result is a loss of confidence. The fix is not subtle. It requires a cultural reset.

Bring back the old logos with the the leaping cat - the angry, vintage, legendary front-facing badge. Ditch the flat, fintech-looking typography. Reinstate visual design that is loud, proud and unmistakably Jaguar. The past isn’t something to be embarrassed about. It’s a weapon, to be used by the right people for great effect.

Jaguar should lean into Britishness, not in a flag-waving political sense, but in an aesthetic and cultural one. Partner with institutions like the RAF, British racing heritage and even local councils. Give cars to NHS nurses, retired factory workers, former athletes, veterans. People who remember Jaguar as a source of national pride. Let them be the ambassadors. Document their stories. Show the legacy returning to the hands of those who always loved it. Partner with charities and demonstrate that while releasing cars that can only be afforded by the upper-middle class, you're still not out of touch and are using your corporate presence to help everyday Brits through these tough economic times.

This isn’t about reclaiming identity. It’s about building belonging. Jaguar isn’t for the elite anymore. It’s for the bold, proud, stylish men. That positioning should be unshakable.

Schema for Jag’s Comeback: The Ad

The perfect Jaguar ad doesn’t need a big budget. It needs truth. A father and son walk into a garage. The camera follows them through dust, old tools, faded posters and quiet reverence. Covered in the back is a car. The son pulls off the sheet. It’s a new Jaguar, but it looks like the one his father used to work on.

The father tells a story. Driving it on his wedding day. The wind, the road, the sense of freedom. They sit in the new model together. The son turns the key. Nothing. Then he taps the pedal. The sound of the original Jaguar engine fills the garage like a resurrection. They look at each other. The headlights flick on.

They drive. Across the countryside. Past monuments. Through tunnels. No special effects. Just two generations, one car and a silent pact between the past and the future.

Tagline is revealed: "Bring Back the Jag", followed by a classic Jaguar logo. Fellas, I can shoot this ad with my smartphone and it would destroy your most recent woke virus manifestation like a pitbull would destroy a baby at a park. An illustrative palate cleanser to wake you up before the next section.

Schema for Jag’s Comeback: The Marketing Edge

There is growing fatigue with sanitised branding and risk-averse messaging. The era of soft, broad, meaningless campaigns is collapsing under its own weight. People are hungry for depth, identity and brands that take a stance. Look at the Sydney Sweeney campaign "Sydney Sweeney has great jeans" - the woke went nuts, while the "right" went to buy.

Jaguar is in a prime position to own that space in the automotive industry. It can be the car brand that reintroduces emotion to electric. It can be the brand that speaks to the left-behind without pandering. It can be the brand that remembers what it means to feel power under your foot and pride in your machine.

The resurgence of vinyl, classic tailoring, manual watches and analogue cameras shows that culture is swinging back toward texture and authenticity. Jaguar doesn’t need to preach rebellion. It needs to embody it.

Use figures like Jeremy Clarkson not as gimmicks, but as cultural connectors. Mind you, they didn't want anything to do with your most recent identity - but you can rest assured they'll be your advocates to the public if you bring back the classic British legends with a modern twist - and the crowd will follow. There’s already alignment. Build on it. Dedicate a fleet for giveaways and joyrides. Let Clarkson & Co destroy some on camera. Let people talk. Let the woke attack you, while they filter themselves out and leave buyers with intent drawn towards you.

Schema for Jag’s Comeback: The Marketing Funnel

Jaguar’s marketing funnel should be brutally clear. It should mirror Tesla’s simplicity without the tech cult. It should betray corporate wokeness and connect generations with simple, human storytelling that presents a one of a kind product design mentality.

Start with product design that speaks for itself. Launch it with one hero ad that frames the new era as a return, not a reinvention. Drive traffic to a direct-to-consumer site with preorders, waitlists and test drive bookings. Use social media not for trends but for documentary-style storytelling - garage rebuilds, fan stories, design showcases.

Everything else remains the same - support this with a network of small, high-impact brand events. Pop-ups at racetracks. Collaborations with real British artisans. Product placements in films that treat cars as characters, not props.

Make the brand feel inevitable. Make it feel like a movement that never left us.

Bring Back the Jag

Jaguar doesn’t need to become something new. It needs to become itself. Boldly. Unapologetically. And beautifully.

There is still room in the market for a car that stirs the blood. There is still space for a brand that speaks with a spine. Jaguar has the history, the design legacy and the cultural gravity to do it. But only if it stops pretending to be something else.

The soul is still there. The roar is still possible.

Bring back the Jag.

P.S. The Elephant in the Boardroom

Here's the catch. Jaguar is not owned by the British, so it has no interest in being British. They've proved it with the rebrand. Watch it again to really get pissed off and primed for the reality check:

You can coat it in Union Jack packaging, let the accents roll off the marketing decks, and cue up Elgar in the background, but the truth remains. Jaguar Land Rover is owned, operated, and directed by Tata Motors, a multinational conglomerate headquartered in Mumbai, India.

The romanticised "British car company" is now a portfolio asset in a much larger empire, one that also builds trucks, buses, and commuter hatchbacks for the Indian domestic market.

There is nothing inherently wrong with global ownership. BMW owns Rolls-Royce. Geely owns Lotus and Volvo. Stellantis is a spaghetti bowl of European and American brands. But in Jaguar’s case, the foreign parent seems to have let go of the wheel. Not out of incompetence, but perhaps by design.

Here is the uncomfortable hypothesis for those who are hopeful about the return of Jaguar - and that's us as well. Tata Motors didn’t save Jaguar. They humiliated it.

Look at the rebrand. Gone is the leaping cat. Gone is the classical serif logo. What remains is a neutered sans-serif identity that looks like it was art-directed by a procurement department.

Jaguar is now positioned as a “modern luxury” EV brand. But luxury for whom? Where’s the class? Where’s the sex appeal? Where’s the grit? It’s like putting a Savile Row suit on a scarecrow and calling it fashion-forward.

Now, some will say, “But Tata invested heavily. They saved jobs. They gave JLR autonomy.” Sure. On paper. But let's think about this from a longer colonial lens.

You do not buy a British crown jewel without knowing what it meant to the British. Jaguar wasn't just a car brand. It was national pride on four wheels. It was Stirling Moss and Le Mans. It was the gentleman rogue’s choice of transportation.

So what happens if you, a former colony, now in a position of global economic clout, acquire such a symbol? Do you nurture it? Or do you rework it until it’s unrecognisable?

You don't need to swing a hammer to destroy a legacy. You just need to strip it of meaning. Slowly. Carefully. Under the guise of progress. In this case, radical corporate progressivism - wokeness.

Since Tata took over in 2008, Jaguar’s path has been erratic at best. Strong starts like the F-Type, F-Pace, and those villainy ads were followed by confusing detours, vague strategies, and now the full-on identity crisis of turning Jaguar into some kind of “Tesla for introverts.”

Tata isn’t shouting about Jaguar in India. In fact, they keep their Tata-branded vehicles and Jaguar on completely different marketing planets. Their own line of EVs like the Tata Nexon and Tiago are surging in domestic popularity while Jaguar becomes an increasingly irrelevant footnote in the global luxury conversation.

So what’s the plan? Is Tata content to let Jaguar fade into a quiet, sterile electric corner while it builds its empire on its own terms? Or is this a slow-motion revenge fantasy, an undoing of Britain’s industrial icon by a former colonial subject turned capitalist heavyweight?

The fact remains - Jaguar is gone, along with its British legacy. If the goal was to preserve Jaguar, the attempt wasn't preservation. It was taxidermy.

And the cat doesn’t look like it’s about to leap. It looks like it’s been neutered, malnourished and mounted by a soulless culture.

unthink marketing,

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