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Protesters hold signs and sing chants during a protest against Elon Musk and his Tesla car company outside the Tesla dealership in Boston, Massachusetts on March 15, 2025.
Tesla no longer behaves like a company focused on innovation, customer loyalty, or product integrity. It behaves like a company driven by ego.
As the controller of Lehigh County and a pension board member, I am entrusted with safeguarding public workers' retirement savings—people who fix our roads, teach our children, and keep our community running. This duty requires more than spreadsheets. It demands foresight, integrity, and courage when risks outweigh rewards. Public pensions are not just private retirements—they are public trusts. Every dollar mismanaged today becomes a broken promise tomorrow.
That's why I introduced a resolution, which our board passed, to halt new Tesla stock purchases in our actively managed funds.
Tesla's earnings have collapsed by 71% compared to last year. Auto revenues are down 20%. Sales in Germany plummeted 76% in February. Tesla lost 49% of its market share in China while BYD gained 161%. General Motors, once dismissed as outdated, now leads domestic electric Vehicle sales with a 50% increase in 2024. Its price-to-earnings ratio, how much investors pay for every dollar the company earns, is wildly inflated compared to industry norms. That kind of mismatch isn't a vote of confidence; it's a flashing warning light.
Public pension boards have long been treated as silent partners in the economy. But silence is no longer neutral. We are shareholders in the future, and that gives us responsibility.
But the numbers tell only part of the story. Tesla is bleeding trust.
The company's CEO, Elon Musk, has made himself a spectacle. He dismantled Twitter's identity on a whim, and now, by becoming a symbol of political division, he's destabilizing one of America's most recognizable brands. The consequences are already here: public walkouts, showroom protests, declining global sales.
For those of us managing public money, those signs matter. Tesla no longer behaves like a company focused on innovation, customer loyalty, or product integrity. It behaves like a company driven by ego. That is not a foundation we can trust with our employees' retirements.
This is why we voted to pause. We also requested that our investment consultant provide a complete accounting of our exposure.
We are not alone in this concern. Dutch and Danish pension funds have already divested. Canada's largest public-sector union has called for action. In the U.S., state treasurers and union leaders are beginning to raise similar alarms. Momentum is building, and it's grounded in a simple reality: Fiduciary responsibility must be insulated from erratic leadership.
Tesla has spent years fighting off unions, firing organizers, intimidating workers, and refusing to sign collective bargaining agreements. But now, the stability it has rejected might be the only thing that can restore what it has lost. Unions don't just raise wages, they stabilize companies. They create guardrails that protect against reckless leadership and ensure that decision-makers are accountable not just to shareholders, but to the people who build the product. A unionized workforce would offer not just internal structure, but public credibility. When workers have power, companies are held to account.
I urge public pension funds nationwide, especially those shaped by organized labor, including the United Auto Workers, to look hard at their Tesla holdings. These funds represent the collective strength of working people. They should not underwrite volatility, reward self-interest, or ignore risk. Coordinated action by labor-aligned funds can do more than shift portfolios; it can send a clear message to the market: Long-term value isn't earned through celebrity or chaos, but through companies that treat their workers, customers, and shareholders like they matter.
There is a connection between morality and capitalism. Profit built on spectacle crumbles quickly. But profit built on trust, stability, and accountability, that endures. That's the kind of return our retirees deserve.
Public pension boards have long been treated as silent partners in the economy. But silence is no longer neutral. We are shareholders in the future, and that gives us responsibility. We can't build a just economy while funding its collapse. If our dollars prop up instability, then silence is complicity.
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As the controller of Lehigh County and a pension board member, I am entrusted with safeguarding public workers' retirement savings—people who fix our roads, teach our children, and keep our community running. This duty requires more than spreadsheets. It demands foresight, integrity, and courage when risks outweigh rewards. Public pensions are not just private retirements—they are public trusts. Every dollar mismanaged today becomes a broken promise tomorrow.
That's why I introduced a resolution, which our board passed, to halt new Tesla stock purchases in our actively managed funds.
Tesla's earnings have collapsed by 71% compared to last year. Auto revenues are down 20%. Sales in Germany plummeted 76% in February. Tesla lost 49% of its market share in China while BYD gained 161%. General Motors, once dismissed as outdated, now leads domestic electric Vehicle sales with a 50% increase in 2024. Its price-to-earnings ratio, how much investors pay for every dollar the company earns, is wildly inflated compared to industry norms. That kind of mismatch isn't a vote of confidence; it's a flashing warning light.
Public pension boards have long been treated as silent partners in the economy. But silence is no longer neutral. We are shareholders in the future, and that gives us responsibility.
But the numbers tell only part of the story. Tesla is bleeding trust.
The company's CEO, Elon Musk, has made himself a spectacle. He dismantled Twitter's identity on a whim, and now, by becoming a symbol of political division, he's destabilizing one of America's most recognizable brands. The consequences are already here: public walkouts, showroom protests, declining global sales.
For those of us managing public money, those signs matter. Tesla no longer behaves like a company focused on innovation, customer loyalty, or product integrity. It behaves like a company driven by ego. That is not a foundation we can trust with our employees' retirements.
This is why we voted to pause. We also requested that our investment consultant provide a complete accounting of our exposure.
We are not alone in this concern. Dutch and Danish pension funds have already divested. Canada's largest public-sector union has called for action. In the U.S., state treasurers and union leaders are beginning to raise similar alarms. Momentum is building, and it's grounded in a simple reality: Fiduciary responsibility must be insulated from erratic leadership.
Tesla has spent years fighting off unions, firing organizers, intimidating workers, and refusing to sign collective bargaining agreements. But now, the stability it has rejected might be the only thing that can restore what it has lost. Unions don't just raise wages, they stabilize companies. They create guardrails that protect against reckless leadership and ensure that decision-makers are accountable not just to shareholders, but to the people who build the product. A unionized workforce would offer not just internal structure, but public credibility. When workers have power, companies are held to account.
I urge public pension funds nationwide, especially those shaped by organized labor, including the United Auto Workers, to look hard at their Tesla holdings. These funds represent the collective strength of working people. They should not underwrite volatility, reward self-interest, or ignore risk. Coordinated action by labor-aligned funds can do more than shift portfolios; it can send a clear message to the market: Long-term value isn't earned through celebrity or chaos, but through companies that treat their workers, customers, and shareholders like they matter.
There is a connection between morality and capitalism. Profit built on spectacle crumbles quickly. But profit built on trust, stability, and accountability, that endures. That's the kind of return our retirees deserve.
Public pension boards have long been treated as silent partners in the economy. But silence is no longer neutral. We are shareholders in the future, and that gives us responsibility. We can't build a just economy while funding its collapse. If our dollars prop up instability, then silence is complicity.
As the controller of Lehigh County and a pension board member, I am entrusted with safeguarding public workers' retirement savings—people who fix our roads, teach our children, and keep our community running. This duty requires more than spreadsheets. It demands foresight, integrity, and courage when risks outweigh rewards. Public pensions are not just private retirements—they are public trusts. Every dollar mismanaged today becomes a broken promise tomorrow.
That's why I introduced a resolution, which our board passed, to halt new Tesla stock purchases in our actively managed funds.
Tesla's earnings have collapsed by 71% compared to last year. Auto revenues are down 20%. Sales in Germany plummeted 76% in February. Tesla lost 49% of its market share in China while BYD gained 161%. General Motors, once dismissed as outdated, now leads domestic electric Vehicle sales with a 50% increase in 2024. Its price-to-earnings ratio, how much investors pay for every dollar the company earns, is wildly inflated compared to industry norms. That kind of mismatch isn't a vote of confidence; it's a flashing warning light.
Public pension boards have long been treated as silent partners in the economy. But silence is no longer neutral. We are shareholders in the future, and that gives us responsibility.
But the numbers tell only part of the story. Tesla is bleeding trust.
The company's CEO, Elon Musk, has made himself a spectacle. He dismantled Twitter's identity on a whim, and now, by becoming a symbol of political division, he's destabilizing one of America's most recognizable brands. The consequences are already here: public walkouts, showroom protests, declining global sales.
For those of us managing public money, those signs matter. Tesla no longer behaves like a company focused on innovation, customer loyalty, or product integrity. It behaves like a company driven by ego. That is not a foundation we can trust with our employees' retirements.
This is why we voted to pause. We also requested that our investment consultant provide a complete accounting of our exposure.
We are not alone in this concern. Dutch and Danish pension funds have already divested. Canada's largest public-sector union has called for action. In the U.S., state treasurers and union leaders are beginning to raise similar alarms. Momentum is building, and it's grounded in a simple reality: Fiduciary responsibility must be insulated from erratic leadership.
Tesla has spent years fighting off unions, firing organizers, intimidating workers, and refusing to sign collective bargaining agreements. But now, the stability it has rejected might be the only thing that can restore what it has lost. Unions don't just raise wages, they stabilize companies. They create guardrails that protect against reckless leadership and ensure that decision-makers are accountable not just to shareholders, but to the people who build the product. A unionized workforce would offer not just internal structure, but public credibility. When workers have power, companies are held to account.
I urge public pension funds nationwide, especially those shaped by organized labor, including the United Auto Workers, to look hard at their Tesla holdings. These funds represent the collective strength of working people. They should not underwrite volatility, reward self-interest, or ignore risk. Coordinated action by labor-aligned funds can do more than shift portfolios; it can send a clear message to the market: Long-term value isn't earned through celebrity or chaos, but through companies that treat their workers, customers, and shareholders like they matter.
There is a connection between morality and capitalism. Profit built on spectacle crumbles quickly. But profit built on trust, stability, and accountability, that endures. That's the kind of return our retirees deserve.
Public pension boards have long been treated as silent partners in the economy. But silence is no longer neutral. We are shareholders in the future, and that gives us responsibility. We can't build a just economy while funding its collapse. If our dollars prop up instability, then silence is complicity.