Driving Lamborghini’s $600,000 Ultra-Powerful Plug-In Hybrid

No longer are supercars powered strictly by muscular V8 and V12 engines, producing a mighty roar as they burn gallons of gas at a ferocious rate. Today’s entries can have hybrid, plug-in hybrid, or pure electric drive. But they’re still awesomely fast, with neck-snapping acceleration.

The new Lamborghini Revuelto, a novel form of plug-in hybrid, puts out an eye-opening 1,001 horsepower (with 739 pound-feet of torque) via a combination of three electric motors (two on the front axle) and a mid-mounted—and exposed to the elements—V12 that, by itself, produces 825 horsepower. It manages to produce more power with some beneficial weight loss. That’s coupled to an eight-speed dual-clutch automatic (with manual paddles) and a 3.8-kilowatt-hour battery pack (with LG cells) that gives the Revuelto five or six miles of all-electric travel.

Hybrid drive in the Revuelto is not so much to achieve better fuel economy, though that’s one result, but is primarily a way of boosting power output as needed. It also yields all-wheel drive. Sales started early this year, and Lamborghini plans to produce about 1,500 to 1,600 Revueltos annually (with the supply limited by the company’s ability to produce its carbon-fiber structure). The inventory is sold out until 2026. As is true of many supercar companies, the SUV is the biggest seller—Lamborghini produces about 5,000 Urus SUV models each year.

The Lamborghini Revueltos in convoy in the Hudson Valley.
Lamborghini photo

The list price of the 2024 Revuelto is US$604,363. As tested, with the biggest option being US$13,100 for the special greyish paint, the bottom line was US$681,258. Lamborghini handed over the Revuelto keys at the 140-acre Wildflower Farms resort in Gardiner, N.Y., for a 90-minute drive around the scenic Hudson Valley. Although the car is capable of a stated 217 miles per hour in the right context, it was still huge fun to drive it at much more moderate speeds on the curvy local roads.

Matteo Ortenzi, product line director for the Revuelto, explained that having two motors up front increases the opportunity for effective torque vectoring, which improves handling by delivering power to the individual wheels as needed. “The feel is of a lighter and more powerful car,” Ortenzi says. “We didn’t build the Revuelto just to say we did a hybrid.”

As in other hybrids, the Revuelto returns power to the battery on deceleration, a process called “regenerative” braking or in Ortenzi’s words, “using negative torque.” After the 90-minute drive, the Revuelto still had a 90% charge. Lamborghini doesn’t think owners will need to plug it in often, though it provides a charging cord. The charge portal is actually under the front hood, a “frunk” where the car has its limited luggage space.

A row of Revueltos with scissor doors up.
Jim Motavalli photo

Entering through the vertically opening scissor doors requires some agility, but soon becomes second nature. Leg room is good, and the bolstered seats hold the driver in firmly—a good thing considering the speeds and g-forces the car can achieve. The gauges are brightly digital, with huge single-digit numbers for the gear selected. There’s an 8.4-inch touchscreen mounted centrally, and a third 12.3-inch unit for the passenger. The start-stop button is under a military-grade protective cover.

The drive started in EV mode, yielding a quiet getaway that didn’t disturb resort guests. Small dials on the dash control the driving modes. Città (city) is for city electric, Strada (street) for comfortable cruising, Sport (self-explanatory), and Corsa (race, for total performance).

All the modes were sampled, but Strada was a nice balance of performance and driving pleasure. Sometimes using paddles seems not worth the bother, but in the Revuelto the big flippers provided instant gear changes and a nice feeling of control. Slowing down, the transmission acts on its own to downshift. Everything works together: the tight steering (with rear-wheel steering, too), the firm but not harsh suspension, and the hugely reassuring carbon-ceramic brakes. The engine barks out a very Italian song. It’s quite a driver’s car, though not one that can take the family to Disneyland.

The Revueltos engine is exposed to the elements.
Jim Motavalli photo

In the classic muscle car, huge V8 engines were stuffed under the hoods of regular passenger vehicles, sometimes without much thought as to how the powerful result would get around corners or stop. The Revuelto, despite that fearsome 1,001 horsepower, seems to have been fully engineered to handle what it puts on the ground. It can reach 62 miles per hour in 2.5 seconds, with the driver in firm control.

Plug-in hybrids like the Revuelto are a big step toward battery EVs. Lamborghini showed the Lanzador, a fully electric concept car, during Monterey Car Week in 2023 . Exactly when a production model will appear is unclear. “It’s not when, but how,” Ortenzi says. “The world doesn’t need just another electric car; it needs an electric Lamborghini.”

A wave of corporate warnings and technical disclosures has flooded the media, with headlines worrying over “swarms” of rogue artificial-intelligence agents launching “unprecedented” cyberattacks, outsmarting their makers, and inching toward a terrifying autonomy. The most revealing part of this narrative isn’t what the software did. It’s who is telling the story—and why. When corporate leaders publicly insist that the systems they financed, engineered and deployed are suddenly beyond their power to contain, skepticism isn’t only healthy; it is essential.

For years, Silicon Valley has drawn scrutiny from civil society and global regulators over tangible harms such as youth mental health deterioration and systematic privacy violations. Today, industry figures seem to be trying to change that public image. Loudly blowing the whistle on their own systems—just as two of the leading companies were preparing for massive initial public offerings—lets AI executives position themselves as a new generation of leaders who have come to terms with their societal responsibilities. They seem to want us to believe that they no longer want to “move fast and break things” but will instead stand as vigilant guardians between humanity and a technological apocalypse.

There is one glaring problem: Software doesn’t rebel. A mathematical model possesses neither intent, malice nor the will to defy its creators, let alone extinguish our species. AI is a human artifact, engineered for profit.

When an agentic model in an evaluation sandbox connects to an unauthorized server or executes an exploit, it hasn’t staged a coup. It has tried to meet the human-defined objectives set out before it through a path its designers failed to constrain. It’s the digital equivalent of the King Midas myth, in which the king’s ill-defined wish turns even his food and drink into gold.

That powerful experimental models were able to discover novel vulnerabilities and breach external systems isn’t a sign of a dangerous superintelligence but of human error or negligence. There is no sentient actor lurking in the weights to be reasoned with, feared or pacified. There are only human software engineers, product managers and corporate boards deciding which guardrails are worth the latency cost and which permissions can be skipped in the race to market.

Policymakers and voters need to resist AI exceptionalism. In any other discipline—from civil engineering to pharmaceuticals—courts and regulators treat a system failure as evidence of bad product design and inadequate safety testing. If an aircraft crashes, we focus on finding the engineering defect, correcting it, and enforcing established liability standards for the damage created.

By leaning on an anthropomorphic narrative, Silicon Valley attempts to repackage its specific human choices that led to experimental, powerful models behaving unexpectedly during tests as an existential peril. Elevating the issue to a cosmic scale leaves the public paralyzed and takes ordinary product accountability off the table.

In the cutthroat race for venture capital and market dominance, building guardrails slows down deployment. Grandstanding about uncontrollable power costs nothing and generates billions of dollars in free publicity, justifying stock prices, all while cultivating an aura of technological capability not only to build the frontier but also ultimately to rein it in.

Governments need to recognize regulatory capture when it stares them in the face. Tech leaders’ strategy looks transparent: Alarm Washington and Brussels into creating a regime in which only trillion-dollar incumbents with fully staffed compliance and safety departments can legally operate. By sitting at the policymakers’ tables before anyone else, these companies can help draft rules digging an impassable moat protecting them from open-source developers and upstart competitors, domestic or international. The real danger is in further concentrating the tech industry into the hands of only a few companies with deep pockets.

Beijing and Washington have brushed off those tech leaders’ calls, albeit for very different reasons. Chinese state media dismissed them as part of the “Cold War playbook” and intended to preserve U.S. dominance. Xi Jinping argued for exactly the opposite at the Brics Summit on Sept. 12, calling on Brics countries to “strengthen cooperation in the field of AI, encourage open source, openness, collaboration and sharing, and break new grounds and scale new heights.” President Trump, steeped in a doctrine of unfettered capitalism and technological supremacy, called fears that AI could destroy humanity a “hoax.” Vice President JD Vance warned that AI companies “begging the government to regulate them” looked like a “Trojan Horse.”

Striving to pursue its “European way” on AI and assert regulatory leadership, Europe, by contrast, welcomed the call. European Union President Ursula von der Leyen made this clear at the State of the EU speech last Wednesday and announced that the EU will invite “the main frontier labs for a discussion on how we can support ongoing industry efforts to pace the frontier.”

Europe has been here before. In an effort to lead global regulation and react to fears borne from ChatGPT, Europe rushed its landmark AI Act into law in 2024. Already the world’s most restrictive rulebook, the framework quickly proved too broad and complex to enforce. Stalled by implementation delays and concerns about European competitiveness, the EU postponed the law’s full rollout, leaving regulations uncertain.

AI should be regulated—risks exist and should be taken seriously. But governments need to act based on available evidence and verified facts, not corporate PR panic, the views of industry insiders, or the desire for quick political wins. The greatest danger facing society isn’t that software will awaken and overthrow its human masters. It is that we will allow the creators of the software to abdicate human responsibility for the systems they choose to build and help them pull up the ladder to market access behind them.

Driving Lamborghini’s $600,000 Ultra-Powerful Plug-In Hybrid

AI doesn’t rebel—people design, deploy and profit from it. The real danger lies in allowing tech companies to escape accountability while shaping regulations that protect their dominance.