Well, well. Just when we thought Harley-Davidson was done vacuuming up executives for the season, Milwaukee cracked open the HR filing cabinet again and started pulling names like raffle tickets. Apparently “Holiday Housecleaning” wasn’t the finale — it was just intermission.
Because today, Harley announced leadership changes that bear about as much resemblance to “strategic alignment” as a flat tire does to a performance upgrade. Honestly, it feels like someone emptied the building and then reopened the doors only for the people carrying fresh résumés.
Today’s New Lineup in the Corporate Circus
Bryan Niketh, returns as Chief Operating Officer, inheriting product development, management, and operations. Congratulations, Bryan: here’s a stack of headaches, don’t lose them. Niketh was most recently serving as President of White River Marine Group, a maker and distributor of fishing and recreational boats (part of Bass Pro Group). Previously he spent many years at Harley-Davidson: he was Senior Vice President of Product and Operations (2020–2022), and before that Vice President of Product Development (2017–2020), and earlier going back to 2014 he was in more junior roles.
Matthew Ryan, Ph.D., the new Chief Marketing & Technology Officer, now controls both storytelling and the tools used to deliver it. Sounds like Harley wants its marketing messages to sync perfectly with… whatever tech plan they’re still pretending exists. Previously he was Chief Marketing Officer at Boyd Gaming (BYD), a U.S. based casino and hospitality company, primarily operating casinos, hotels and entertainment venues.
And Marcus Fischer, Chief Brand Officer, now decides what Harley “means.” Good luck, Marcus — that word has at least six definitions depending on who you ask and how much they paid over MSRP. It gets interesting as previously, he was the CEO of Carmichael Lynch (a prominent Minneapolis ad agency), (parent company is Omnicom) who orchestrated the brand strategy, creative direction, and long-term brand position for Harley-Davidson. Marcus departed the company back in June 2025 after leading the group for eight years. After an acquisition ($13.5B) of Interpublic Group, Omnicom announce 4,000 job cuts in December 2025 adding to the previous 3,200 positions cut earlier in the year.
Because Why Not Shake the Tree Again?
Harley claims these changes are all about “strengthening the leadership team.” Funny how strengthening always seems to involve emptying out offices and stapling new titles onto doors.
If you’re keeping score: that’s a new CEO not long ago, two execs quietly exiting stage left last week, and four fresh roles announced this week. At this rate, Harley’s leadership org chart needs a daily weather report.
What Could This Mean for Riders?
Depends which part of the company survives the spin cycle:
Product decisions might accelerate, or they might funnel through more layers than a midwinter riding jacket.
Marketing could get sharper… or we get more lifestyle ads featuring people who’ve never thrown a leg over a bike.
Dealers might see better support, or they might get more surveys, software updates, and “strategy toolkits.”
Younger riders might become the focus — right after Harley figures out how to get them to walk into a dealership without laughing at the price tags.
Let’s Be Honest: Something Is Going On
This isn’t calm-and-collected corporate planning. This is the kind of hyperactive reshuffling you see when someone finally admits the strategy drawer is full of bad ideas and hopes new faces can pretend otherwise.
I’m not saying Harley’s panicking — but if motorcycles made the same noises the corporate office is making right now, you’d pull over and check for loose bolts.
Will this new batch of executives stabilize the ship? Actually steer it? Or at least figure out which direction the map is supposed to face?
We’ll find out soon enough. Bikes don’t care about reorgs — but riders sure notice when leadership chaos trickles down into the showroom.
Until then, grab popcorn. Milwaukee’s December drama is putting the Hallmark Channel to shame.
Cue the dramatic throttle twist—because once again, Harley-Davidson just can’t seem to keep the corporate bolts from rattling loose.
Harley-Davidson CEO Artie Starrs
Just when the exhaust fumes from Zeitz’s Great Exit Tour were starting to clear—remember, the sustainability sage rode off into advisory-land back in October—the Motor Company drops another gear-grinding surprise.
On December 5, Harley announced that Jagdish Krishnan (Chief Digital & Operations Officer) and Luke Mansfield (Chief Commercial Officer) are both rolling out of Milwaukee HQ on December 31, 2025.
And, naturally, they’re floating down softly on the sweet, quilted wings of the Executive Severance Plan. Nothing like a corporate airbag to cushion that landing, huh?
Not Just Paper-Pushers — These Were Zeitz’s Golden Children
Let’s not kid ourselves: these two weren’t middle-management clipboard wranglers. They were architects of the Zeitz Era, drafted in to drag Harley—sometimes kicking, often screaming—into digital relevance.
Jagdish Krishnan
The IT maestro from Bose who Zeitz hired in 2020 to completely overhaul the digital plumbing. Online sales, dealership tech, backend infrastructure—he had his hands on the whole digital dashboard.
Jagdish Krishnan
Luke Mansfield
A fizz-forward marketing mind from PepsiCo and Samsung who joined in 2018, climbed up to CCO in 2024, and was supposed to turn Harley’s global strategy into something more exciting than a spreadsheet full of declining unit sales.
These were Zeitz’s people. His “Rewire” and “Hardwire” initiatives were their playgrounds. But Zeitz has since been kicked upstairs into “senior advisory” purgatory while new CEO Artie Starrs—the guy with résumés stamped Topgolf and Pizza Hut—is now steering the ship.
Luke Mansfield
If Harley suddenly starts serving carb-happy cafe vibes with test rides, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
And to plug the leadership leak? CFO Jonathan Root will now juggle the Chief Commercial Officer role in the interim. Hope he’s got a strong clutch hand.
So… Why the Sudden Double Ejection?
Harley calls it “mutual.” Corporate translation: “We opened the door. They saw the writing on the wall. Everyone nodded politely and pretended it was friendly.”
Let’s roll through the likely reasons:
Speculation #1: Digital Dreams Hit a Dead Battery
Krishnan’s digital push may have been a victim of a cold reality: Harley riders don’t want to configure their Hog on an app like they’re ordering groceries. And with EV momentum sputtering harder than a carb on a cold January morning, maybe the Motor Company is hitting the brakes on big digital investments.
Or maybe Bose wants their guy back—sound systems are simpler than Harley’s corporate drama.
Speculation #2: Commercial Spark Fizzled
Mansfield’s big-brand consumer goods style may have landed with all the authenticity of a Pepsi ad in Sturgis. Harley’s a lifestyle, not an activation™. When your core customers value grit, grease, and road stories, marketing jargon can feel like a pothole at 80 mph.
Plus, if Harley’s considering cost-cutting, two hefty executive salaries make easy targets—especially if their Zeitz-era strategies weren’t moving the needle.
Speculation #3: Starrs Is Cleaning House
New CEO. New playbook. Old leaders out. Seen it before, will see it again.
Starrs may be prepping Harley for a pivot—from product-first to experience-first. Maybe he wants Topgolf-style dealership hangouts, VR test rides, or “community engagement activations.” Or maybe he’s just stripping away the layers of Zeitz’s blueprint before rebuilding from scratch.
Whispers in the alley say this could be step one in a broader teardown: cost cuts, portfolio tightening, maybe even dealer consolidation.
Buckle up. This ain’t over.
Where Does This Leave the Riders?
Here’s the truth Harley seems to forget every couple of quarters:
The soul of the brand doesn’t live in the C-suite. It lives in the saddle.
Execs may come and go with their corporate buzzwords and severance chutes, but riders stick around because of the thunder, the stories, the freedom.
Krishnan and Mansfield? Thanks for the PowerPoints. Artie Starrs? Time to prove you can steer something more complicated than a pizza empire.
Is this latest shake-up a long-overdue tune-up… or the first step in a complete frame-off rebuild nobody asked for?
Sound off below, folks. Let’s hear your theories, your rants, and your best “told ya so’s.”
They handed out commercial truck licenses like Costco samples. And now, every motorcycle rider in America is paying the price.
That rumble on I‑5? It’s not just the familiar growl of an overloaded semi barreling toward you at 80 mph. It’s the sound of a federal safety net finally snapping under the weight of years of bureaucratic incompetence.
In a story that should be front-page news but somehow isn’t, the Department of Transportation just slammed the brakes on a licensing loophole so wide you could drive a convoy of unvetted semis through it. California, Oregon, Washington, Pennsylvania, Texas, South Dakota, Colorado — all caught. But this isn’t just about paperwork. It’s about who’s behind the wheel of the 40-ton missile next to your Harley on the open road.
One driver was even cleared to drive a school busafter their immigration status had expired.
And while that might be a bureaucratic error to some politician in Sacramento, to the rest of us — especially bikers — it’s a lethal mistake.
You ride with no roll cage. No airbags. No margin for error. One wrong move from a rookie behind the wheel of a semi and you’re an oil stain on I‑84. And that rookie? In some states, they got licensed faster than you got your motorcycle registration renewed.
Oregon Slams the Brakes (Too Late?)
Even Oregon — the crunchy, compost-loving, government-hugging state where safety gets its own office space — finally admitted they were caught flat-footed.
Yesterday on October 1st, Oregon DMVceased all issuance of limited-term (non-domiciled) CDLs and learner permits after being smacked with the new emergency federal rule. They didn’t just pause new licenses — they froze everything:
No transfers
No renewals
No reprints
No upgrades
Not even replacements for lost or stolen cards
Why? Because like everyone else, they were giving out licenses to people with nothing more than an employment authorization document (EAD) — not full proof of lawful presence, not legal entry records, not verified visa categories. And now, Oregon’s 1,400 limited-term CDL holders are stuck in limbo — and the DMV is admitting it’ll take statutory change, system overhauls, and policy rewrites to even catch up. AND, give it 6-hours before they request more taxpayer money…to fix the IT system.
Let that sink in.
They were licensing truckers without a system even capable of enforcing federal law.
But at least they stopped. Eventually.
The Hypocrisy Is Laughable — If You’re Not Riding a Harley
These same blue states will lecture you on carbon footprints, tell you to trade your Road King for a light rail pass, and fine you for jaywalking in a “walkable district” — and yet they handed out commercial truck licenses like they were Spotify trial codes.
The same agencies that’ll charge you $180 for a vanity plate are now admitting they can’t even verify immigration status before issuing a CDL.
So you — the rider — are left weaving between rigs driven by people who might’ve had their license handed out by a state that didn’t verify a single thing beyond “did your form say EAD?”
So Where Are We Now?
California has 30 days to clean up its act or lose $160 million in federal highway funding.
Oregon just hit the panic button and froze everything until it can overhaul its entire process.
And the rest of us? We still have to ride like our lives depend on it.
Because they do.
Final Word
The open road was supposed to be freedom — not a rolling game of Russian roulette. Harley riders shouldn’t need to dodge semi-trucks driven by barely vetted operators who walked out of a DMV with a commercial license and no questions asked.
And don’t let Oregon off the hook just because they hit the brakes. They were part of the problem. The only reason they stopped is because the feds stepped in.
So next time you ride, remember this: you kept your machine road-ready. You followed the law. You earned your freedom.
With Harley now in the hands of a guy whose resume screams mozzarella and mulligans (M&M), it’s only natural to wonder: what vision is he pitching behind closed doors? Fortunately, someone smuggled out this memo from the shuttered Strategic Innovation Division (SID)—the memo was tucked inside a garlic knot inside an interplant mail envelope.
LEAKED INTERNAL MEMO
Subject:Accelerating Passion: Strategic Vision for Harley 3.0™ From:Artie Starrs, CEO, Harley-Davidson To: All Harley-Davidson Employees Dated: October 1, 2025 Confidential – Do Not Forward to Bikers
Team, today marks Day One of a delicious new journey and a bold new round for Harley-Davidson. I am thrilled to be joining this iconic clubhouse of culture—I mean, motorcycle brand—and I am humbled to be handed the Big Bertha driver trusted to get us airborne and steer us straight down the fairway… or should I say, open road?
Since Zeitz has left the building and his 5+ year old Hardwire initiative will be forever known as DeadWire™ — “The Premium Experience of Nothing Happening.”
As someone who has led legendary institutions like Pizza Hut (PH) and Topgolf (TG), I know how to transform great American brands into even greater American experiences—using synergy, sauce, and a little something I call Vertical Integration Through Experiential Activation™ (VITEA).
Big Ideas for Big Bikes
Let’s ride through my 5-Point STAR(R)S Strategic Framework:
We’ll apply proven “sell-by” cheese logistics principles to Harley’s parts pipeline. No more delays. No more excuses. And possibly… more cheese for dealers.
2. Throttle-to-Table™ Dealership Redesign (TTT)
Starting Q1’26, every Harley dealership will be retrofitted with:
A Topgolf mini-range (clubs provided and an updated Harley-Davidson app to log all challenges)
A drive-thru pizza oven
A “Find Your Inner Biker” self-actualization pod with AI-guided meditation (sponsored by Meta)
3. The Road Crust Ultra™ (Concept Bike)
What if a touring bike could bake a personal pan pizza at highway speed? We’ve convened engineers, chefs, and shamans to answer that exact question. And taking a woke/DEI page from Zeitz, every Road Crust Ultra™ will offset its emissions with carbon-neutral parmesan credits.
4. Rebranding the HOG: Meet the HÜG™
Extensive Gen Z research revealed the word “hog” is “low-vibe” and “smells like grandpas.” So we’re rebranding the Harley Owners Group as a HÜG™ (Holistic Urban Gentlemen). Each HÜG membership will come with:
Free beer mug crystals and a 6-pack of Bud Slight™
An essential oil diffuser (choose among 3-odors)
A Bluetooth speaker that only plays early Bad Bunny
5. Core Rider Outreach
We will not abandon our legacy riders. Instead, we’ll incentivize transformation. Any rider over 55 who trades in their Ultra Limited for a LiveWhiner™ will receive:
1 year of HÜG™ loyalty points (loyalty program gives you parmesan “slices” (i.e. points))
Free Spotify Premium (with Topgolf ads)
A “Not Your Grandpa’s Harley” tote bag and bumper sticker
Culture Shift: From Grease to G.R.I.T.S.™
Our new internal motto is G.R.I.T.S.:
Growth
Relevance
Inclusivity
TikTok
Sauce
Let’s lean into the future—not back on the kickstand of the past. And soon we’ll launch P.I.S.T.O.N.™ (Passion, Innovation, Synergy, TikTok, Omnichannel, Nachos).
Final Thoughts
I understand this brand has a rich, oil-soaked, denim-wrapped history. That’s great. We love the past. But it’s 2025, people. Gasoline is $5/gallon. The kids vape mozzarella. It’s time we adapt.
As I always said at Pizza Hut:
“You can’t deliver the future if you’re stuck reheating the past.”
Now let’s go team and make Harley hot, fresh, and 30 minutes or less.
They’ll throw him a grand farewell party, of course.
Jochen Zeitz with LiveWire – Photo Credit: Joshua Kurpings
It’ll be held at the Harley-Davidson Museum in Milwaukee, surrounded by the ghosts of Flatheads and Knuckleheads, with PR drones buzzing, and speeches thick with praise. Jochen Zeitz will roll in on a LiveWire—symbol of his electrified “vision”—past rows of politely clapping execs in tailored leathers who never once twisted a throttle outside a trade show. There’ll be champagne instead of beer, “purpose-driven” jargon instead of shop talk, and a carefully curated highlight reel that skips past dealer closures, missed EV targets, and shrinking ridership.
They’ll call it “The Last Ride.” A final photo op. Legacy, boxed and bow-tied.
When the dust settles and the last champagne flute clinks at his goodbye gala, Zeitz will ride off into the sunset with a golden parachute stitched from millions in salary, bonuses, and stock awards. Decades of “purpose-driven capitalism” rhetoric—paid for, quite literally, by the riders, the dealers, and the workers left to make sense of the mess.
Once the cameras are packed away and the press releases hit the wire, reality will linger like burnt rubber on the showroom floor. Because for all the talk of “redefining Harley for the future,” what Jochen Zeitz leaves behind is a company weighed down by contradictions, disconnection, and decisions that cost more than they returned.
He didn’t kill Harley. But he didn’t exactly save it, either.
1. A Strategy That Promised Revival, Delivered Retreat
Zeitz’s Hardwire plan was pitched as a comeback: fewer, better bikes. High-margin focus. Electrification. “Desirability” over volume.
But what it actually delivered was a narrower customer base, a gutted product lineup, and a pipeline that stopped inviting new riders in. Touring, cruiser, and trike shipments have declined. Entry-level and mid-market bikes were cut back hard. LiveWire, his pet EV project, went public and immediately floundered—missing targets, delaying launches, and hemorrhaging cash.
Harley under Zeitz didn’t pivot—it retreated. It became more expensive, less inclusive, and less available. The loudest sound wasn’t pipes—it was the sound of the brand’s reach shrinking.
2. Dealers in the Cold, Customers Disenfranchised
Zeitz’s obsession with “premium positioning” left Harley’s dealer network bleeding. Dealer profitability plummeted. Dozens of long-time stores shuttered. Those who stayed saw margins squeezed, support pulled back, and loyalty strained.
Customers? They got higher prices, fewer choices, and trade-in values that tanked. Financing got tougher. Base models disappeared. Newcomers were priced out. The bar to join the Harley world kept rising—until it became more of a wall than an invitation.
Harley used to be aspirational. Zeitz turned it into exclusionary. Harley’s paradox: insist on exclusivity & margin, discourage volume & access. A premium image only works if people can participate—entry‑riders, mid‑riders, not just the wealthy or nostalgic. Hardwire seems to have forgotten that motorcycles are aspiration plus community; strip out the community, you have a lonely seat.
3. Culture, Leadership, and Identity — Fading Edges
A brand isn’t just machines: it’s people, identity, rituals. The Milwaukee HQ, the face‑to‑face presence, the soul of acoustic V‑twins on pavement. It wasn’t just the bikes that lost their edge. Harley’s leadership culture under Zeitz became remote—literally and figuratively. Headquarters in Milwaukee was hollowed out. Remote work became standard. And Zeitz himself? Rarely seen. Operating from Santa Fe, London, Africa—anywhere but among the steel and staff that built the brand.
Leadership churned. Five of the six senior managers who delivered Hardwire in 2022 are no longer with Harley. Turnover, burnout, disengagement.
And the brand’s soul? It eroded. Harley’s American identity—the mythos of grit, grease, and garage-built rebellion—got traded in for global strategy decks and ESG talking points. Zeitz wanted Harley to become the “Prada of Motorcycles.” He forgot it already was something iconic.
4. Financials, Shareholders, and the Erosion of Trust
Sure, Zeitz cut costs. Margins improved. Wall Street liked the buzzwords—for a while.
But strip away the optics and the financials tell a harder story:
EV investments severely underperformed
Shareholder value lagged
Market share eroded in core segments
Revenue growth stalled
And then, a shareholder revolt went in motion
A group of activist investors pushed back hard, accusing Zeitz and the board of insular leadership, poor communication, and questionable judgment. The proxy battle heated up—and it’s wasn’t just about stock prices. It was about who gets to decide what Harley is for.
And maybe more importantly—who it’s not for anymore.
5. What’s Being Abandoned: Soul, Roots, & Long-Term Potential
What Zeitz leaves behind isn’t just the bad or the broken. It’s what might have been: a more durable connection with younger riders, a living product pipeline that balances the legendary big irons with accessible bikes; a dealer network energized, not squeezed; an identity that evolves without splitting.
That potential is being abandoned in favor of short‑term profit focus, high‑margin models, and a shrinking customer base. Ironies abound: Harley wants to be “desirable,” but designs less to invite, more to exclude. Sounds like desirability, smells like elitism.
The Road Forward: Rebuilding What Was Lost
As the curtain falls on the Zeitz era, what Harley needs isn’t another “visionary.” It needs someone who understands that a motorcycle brand is more than margins and marketing. It’s people. Passion. The sense of belonging that comes from being in the saddle, wind in your face, part of something bigger than a product line.
Harley needs to reconnect. To dealers. To new riders. To core riders. To its American soul.
Because when Zeitz walks offstage and the lights go down on The Last Ride, the question left behind won’t be about ESG targets or premium positioning. It’ll be this:
Can Harley still be Harley—without forgetting who it’s for?
And the answer will come not from the next CEO’s slide deck, but from the parking lots, the garages, the rallies, and the riders who never stopped believing in the machine—even if the boardroom did.
Let’s get something straight: Honda can build a rocket. Harley can barely build an electric motorcycle.
2025 Honda Goldwing
That’s not me being cheeky — it’s the truth.
Honda is the world’s largest manufacturer of motorcycles, producing over twenty million units annually and making the company the world’s largest manufacturer of internal combustion engines. They also build cars, lawnmowers, outboard motors, humanoid robots, jets, engines, and now orbital rockets. Harley builds big, loud cruisers that are meant to be heard before they’re seen. One is a silent genius. The other is an aging rockstar playing the same three chords — still packing stadiums, but increasingly to gray-haired fans.
I just read a fascinating piece from Bismarck Brief (behind paywall) titled “Honda Maintains Technical Sophistication in Spite of Stagnation.” It’s a quiet indictment of Honda’s capabilities without courage — a company so stacked with engineering talent it could dominate, but instead… doesn’t.
It got me thinking. Because Harley is the opposite. Technically modest, but with brand swagger so strong it can sell you the idea of freedom for $35,000 and a monthly payment that’ll outlast your marriage.
Let’s compare.
HondaJet Echelon
Honda: The Silent Samurai
Honda doesn’t need to shout. It’s in your generator. Your Civic. Your weed whacker. It made a private jet that’s more efficient than a Cessna. It built ASIMO, the robot that can climb stairs better than your uncle.
But here’s the problem: all that brilliance, and Honda’s playing defense. According to the Brief, Honda’s suffering from a leadership vacuum. It’s got the tools, but not the vision. Like a band with perfect pitch but no songs worth remembering.
Some examples?
Honda Marine V8 Engines – BF350
Toto (excluding “Africa”) were studio monsters. Played on everyone’s records in the 80’s. Incredibly polished, technically elite yet most don’t know exactly one song other than “Africa.” Need another? Joe Satriani or Steve Vai. Guitar gods. Flawless technique, but ask anyone to hum a melody and you’ll get silence.
Back to Honda. They could be building the future of transportation. Instead, they’re just… existing. Quietly. Safely. Stagnantly.
Harley-Davidson: The Loud Legend
Harley’s a different beast. It’s all about identity. It sells the dream — not the tech.
Harley-Davidson CVO Road Glide RR
You don’t buy a Harley for torque curves and frame stiffness. You buy it for the growl, the chrome, the open road mythology. You buy it to feel like a badass, even if you’re just cruising to Applebee’s.
But Harley’s been boxed in by its own legend. For years, they ignored electric. The LiveWire launch was a case study in “too little, too late.” They’ve tried to attract younger riders, but guess what? The young don’t want 800-pound nostalgia machines that cost as much as a Tesla.
So they’re stuck: lean too hard into the past, and you die with your fanbase. Pivot too hard toward the future, and you piss off the lifers.
Head to Head: Engineering vs Emotion
The Real Story: Two Companies Trapped in Their Own Strengths
Honda Dealer in India
Honda’s biggest problem? It’s too competent. It knows how to do everything — so it does nothing bold. No big bets, no moonshots, just quiet execution. But the future isn’t built by people playing not to lose. It’s built by people who take swings.
Harley’s problem? It’s too iconic. That logo is both its shield and its prison. The moment they try to evolve too fast, the old-school riders scream betrayal. But if they don’t evolve, the market will move on without them.
They’re both trapped — one by perfectionism, the other by nostalgia.
So What Happens Now?
If Honda ever wakes up and puts its tech where its mouth isn’t, it could eat the electric motorcycle market alive. Build a 250lb EV with GP tech, a 200 mile range and a price tag under $10k, and it’s game over for everyone.
If Harley figures out how to build an electric bike that doesn’t feel like a compromise, and makes it cool — not apologetic — they might bring the legend to a new generation.
But right now?
Honda’s the quiet genius who refuses to enter the talent show.They can build a rocket or a robot that does backflips. But they haven’t moved the room lately.
Harley, for all its flaws, is that guy still playing “Sweet Home Alabama” at every bar gig (a song/band that I love!), hoping the crowd doesn’t notice his amp’s unplugged. It’s messy, but it hits you.
Bottom Line Harley has soul. Honda has skills.
Harley needs innovation. Honda needs guts.
They both need to stop coasting — because the road ahead doesn’t care who you used to be.
Photos courtesy of Honda and Harley CVO Road Glide RR taken by author.
The chrome might still shine, but Harley-Davidson’s corporate conscience just got dented.
The Japan Fair Trade Commission slapped Harley-Davidson Japan with a ¥200 million fine (about $1.4 million USD) and a cease-and-desist order for shoving excessive sales quotas down their dealers’ throats.
And let’s be real: this wasn’t just some rogue local exec getting quota-happy in Tokyo. This mess traces right back to Milwaukee — to a boardroom where CEO Jochen Zeitz has been steering the Motor Company into what critics call a high-margin, low-soul direction.
What Went Down
The facts are ugly: since at least January 2023, Harley-Davidson Japan set sky-high sales targets for 38 major dealers — unilaterally, without negotiation. Miss your numbers twice in a row? Your contract renewal is “under review.” Dealers weren’t just encouraged — they were cornered.
Some were even forced to buy and register new bikes themselves, just to keep up appearances and avoid Harley pulling the plug on their dealership agreements. That’s right — brand new bikes being funneled into the used market before their seats were even warm.
The JFTC called it what it is: illegal coercion. And for anyone who’s ever run a shop or turned a wrench, this smells like the worst kind of corporate overreach.
Japanese Yen (YPY)
Where the Blame Rumbles From: The Zeitz Doctrine
You can’t talk about this fiasco without mentioning Jochen Zeitz, Harley’s CEO and (for now) executive chairman.
Under his so-called “Hardwire” strategy, Zeitz pushed Harley toward a “premium, desirable, core product” vision. Translation? Jack up margins, pull back from low-cost models, and squeeze more from fewer dealers. It’s a Wall Street strategy, not a Main Street one.
And if you’re wondering where these aggressive quotas came from — surprise: Harley-Davidson Japan hiked sales targets by 30% in 2023, and by nearly 40% in 2024, all without solid market justification. When dealers objected, Harley didn’t blink. Just pushed harder.
Dealers begged for relief. They asked for transparency. They got shrugs and silence. Under Zeitz, dealer relationships have been described by insiders as “dismissive at best, hostile at worst.” One dealer group said Zeitz brushed off widespread concerns as “noise from a small group of angry dealers.” That’s some next-level denial.
In fact, earlier this year, the National Powersports Dealer Association publicly accused Zeitz of fostering a “culture of fear” and called for a complete overhaul of Harley’s leadership. Harley’s board didn’t listen. But now maybe Japan just did them a favor.
Harley-Davidson Japan – Shibuya
This Isn’t Just About Japan
If you think this is some isolated screw-up in a faraway market, think again. It’s the kind of behavior that blooms when leadership puts numbers over people, brand over brotherhood. And when dealers — the lifeblood of Harley’s culture — get reduced to pawns in a spreadsheet game, you lose something bigger than market share.
You lose the soul of the ride.
The Ride Ahead
Zeitz is stepping down as CEO on October 1st — not fast enough for some — but staying on as Chairman. That’s like the guy who wrecked your bike insisting he’ll still be in the sidecar. Great!
The truth is, Harley’s greatest threat isn’t competition from Indian, or the shift to EVs, or even Gen Z’s indifference. It’s corporate arrogance. It’s treating loyal dealers like disposable contractors. It’s forgetting that Harley isn’t just a business — it’s a culture. A way of life.
If Harley-Davidson wants to survive — let alone matter — in the years ahead, it has to stop acting like a hedge fund with a V-Twin logo. Start listening to riders. Respect dealers. And stop forcing bad behavior from the top down.
Final Thought
You don’t build brand loyalty with bullet-point strategies and Wall Street quotas. You build it by standing behind the people who’ve stood behind the brand. Dealers. Riders. Builders. The ones who kept the fire burning while executives played musical chairs in the C-suite.
The rubber meets the road in the shop, not the boardroom.
Something’s rumbling out there—and it’s not just the sound of a V-Twin firing up on a Sunday ride.
Melbourne, Australia
Across the country, Harley-Davidson dealerships—once the anchor of steel, sweat, and community—are closing down. Not just one. Not just a handful. We’re talking a wave.
And the reasons? They’re as varied as the paint jobs on a Softail Deluxe.
What’s Happening on Main Street
In Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania, Vreeland Brothers is packing it in after 35 years. The owners aren’t bitter—they’re just cold. Literally. “We don’t want to go through another winter,” they said. Can you blame them?
Out west in San Francisco, a dealership with over a century of history was shuttered in June 2024. The cause? One word from the owner: “chaos.” A management change sent everything sideways. That’s corporate for you—sometimes it takes less time to kill a dealership than to oil a chain.
Titusville, Florida? Another Harley shop gone. No press release, no swan song—just lights off and doors closed. Same thing in New York City, where the iconic dealership in Manhattan bowed out in September 2024, citing “economic challenges.” In the city that never sleeps, even the Iron Horse has to slow down.
Coeur d’Alene, Idaho
In Kewanee, Illinois, Reiman’s Harley-Davidson decided to ride into the sunset in October 2024, but with a twist—they handed over the reins to Walter Brothers in Peoria. At least the chrome lives on somewhere.
Seasonally, West Bend, Wisconsin took a breather. From November 2024 to April 2025, the shop went dark for winter. Not permanent, but it’s a reflection of how razor-thin things have become—dealerships are now adjusting to the seasons like they’re ski lodges.
Missouri’s Hideout Harley-Davidson also announced a permanent closure, in March 2025. Details? Sparse. It’s a quiet goodbye for a dealership that once roared with weekend warriors and Friday-night wrenchers.
And then there’s High Country Harley-Davidson, with locations in Frederick, Colorado and Cheyenne, Wyoming. After 25 years, they posted an emotional farewell in mid-2025, thanking their community and waving the flag one last time. No bitterness, just a heartfelt departure. The kind of exit that hits you in the ribs.
During CEO Jochen Zeitz’s tenure, dealer numbers fell by about 100 (~700 down to ~600), indicating a substantial contraction of the network over 4 years.
At Zidell’s – South Waterfront Portland, Oregon
Why This Matters (More Than You Think)
Look, this isn’t just about businesses closing. This is about something deeper: culture, community, and the soul of a brand that’s been throttling along since 1903.
Dealerships are more than sales floors—they’re the front lines of Harley’s identity. It’s where riders meet, where stories start, and where dreams are financed (sometimes at a terrifying APR).
So what’s behind the closures?
Dealer fatigue. Small dealers can’t keep up with costly corporate mandates—like multi-million-dollar (‘Taj-Mahals’) showroom upgrades that don’t match foot traffic or sales.
Over-supplied and under-supported. Harley keeps shipping bikes like it’s 2006, but the sales numbers aren’t there. Inventory stacks up, interest payments grow, and the showroom floor becomes a graveyard of unsold steel.
Aging riders. The core Harley demographic? Let’s just say AARP sends us mail. Younger buyers aren’t flooding in to replace them.
Digital burnout. Online gear sales from Harley itself are undercutting dealerships. That fancy jacket you saw in the shop? It’s $40 cheaper on Harley’s website. Try competing with your own supplier.
Corporate misalignment. Even Harley insiders are feeling the heat. Over 200 dealers pushed back via the National Powersports Dealer Association. It worked—Harley paused some renovation requirements. But the damage was already done for many.
Where This Road Goes Next
Harley-Davidson reported a $117 million loss in 2024. U.S. market share dipped. Jochen Zeitz (CEO) is stepping down and in October Artie Starrs—formerly of Topgolf—is learning to *ride a motorcycle and get his DMV endorsement.
New leader. Same challenges.
Dealers are disappearing not because people hate motorcycles. Far from it. They’re closing because the structure around them—the economics, the expectations, the ecosystem—isn’t built for sustainability anymore. At least not for the little guy.
What we’re watching isn’t just a business contraction.
It’s the slow fraying of Harley’s connection to the streets.
Because without the local dealer—without the ride events, the service bays, the handshake financing—Harley risks becoming another brand on a screen, not a culture you can feel rumbling in your bones.
So here’s the question: Is this a temporary stall… or are we watching the clutch slip for good?
Time, riders, and a hell of a lot of rethinking will tell.
*Despite his leadership credentials, there is no public mention of Artie Starrs riding, learning to ride, licensed to ride, ever owned a mini-bike, or having any motorcycle hobby. His known and publicly stated interests are listed as hiking, golf, live music, and family time.
For Jim “Foz” Fosgate, it was a garage in Arizona in 1973—where tools stick to your hand and heat warps the air. Foz wasn’t chasing fame. He was chasing sound. The kind you don’t just hear—it rearranges your spine.
He figured out something the industry had missed: music and the human ear don’t always play nice. Especially at low volume. Bass? Gone. Impact? Vanished. Emotion? Flatlined.
So Foz built a fix. He called it the Frequency Energizer, but the world knows it as the Punch EQ.
That one spark lit the fuse. He built the first car amp. Filed 18 patents. Changed how we listen to music—on the road and in our living rooms. Ever watched a movie in surround sound? That’s Foz. The guy didn’t just amplify sound—he weaponized it.
Fast forward: Fosgate Electronics evolves into Rockford Fosgate, now based in Tempe, Arizona. A brand that doesn’t speak softly and never rides stock.
Harley Cranks It Up
Harley’s first stock stereo system hit the scene in 1992, tucked into the Electra Glide. Word is, it came from a European firm—Harman Kardon—and slid into bikes with a radio and cassette deck. Decent tech for the time. Functional. Safe.
But riders wanted more than “functional.” So in 2014, Harley launched Project Rushmore, their big leap into rider-focused tech. The Boom! Box infotainment system hit the scene with touchscreen nav, voice control, and closed-loop integration that made it all feel seamless. Not bad. But it still had aftermarket energy.
You know what doesn’t feel like an add-on?
The Year Harley Got Loud
In 2021, Harley-Davidson and Rockford Fosgate locked in. No more hoping your system holds up. No more rewiring your bike with a YouTube tutorial and prayer. This was factory-installed fury. Straight off the line.
The MY21 CVO Street Glide and CVO Road Glide came loaded. Not optional. Not bolted on later. Born this way.
Let that sink in. This wasn’t just a better stereo—it was the audio soul of Harley’s top-tier touring bikes. Tuned for the ride. Built to take the hit from wind, speed, rain, RPMs, and whatever else you can throw at it.
Now, fair warning—some riders have had minor hiccups. Firmware quirks. A little speaker fade here and there. Welcome to tech in the real world. But even with a few speed bumps, this isn’t some flashy gimmick. It’s a full-send audio system that hits just as hard as the Milwaukee-Eight rumbling under you.
Built for Gloves. Tuned for Speed.
Rockford didn’t dial it down for the mainstream. They engineered the systems for wind shear and open throttle. It’s not for the garage. It’s for the Dakota plains, the high desert, the rain-soaked stretch between nowhere and somewhere.
And if you’re the kind of rider who thinks four speakers are cute…
Stage 5: When “Loud” Isn’t Loud Enough
Multiple fairing speakers. Saddlebag-mounted speakers. Two 10” subwoofers inside the bags. Two 800-watt amps to drive the earth-shaking low end. That’s 1,600 watts of “sorry officer, I didn’t hear the siren” energy.
Also: maybe leave some room in your saddlebags for a change of clothes. Or don’t. Priorities.
No More Compromises
Now Harley riders don’t have to choose between power and clarity. It comes baked in.
That red Rockford Fosgate badge on the grille? It’s not just branding—it’s a warning shot.
In 2022, Rockford Fosgate was acquired by Patrick Industries, expanding their reach into RVs, marine audio, and residential spaces. But the fire didn’t go corporate. The sound stayed dirty, loud, and real.
That same year, the world lost a true original—Jim “Foz” Fosgate passed away. But his fingerprints are still on every track that makes your ribs hum and your helmet shake. The mission hasn’t changed: Build gear that makes you feel something.
You Don’t Just Hear It. You Ride It.
If you’ve ever ripped across empty highway with the soundtrack in your chest, not just your ears—tip your helmet to Foz. If you haven’t? Well, maybe it’s time.
Harley-Davidson just announced and named Arthur (Artie) Starrs as its next CEO. The move is supposed to bring in “fresh leadership” after Jochen Zeitz rides off into the sunset, presumably weighed down by a suitcase stuffed with hundred-dollar bills and millions in stock options. But, if this feels familiar — like a chapter pulled straight from the AMF disaster manual — you’re not wrong.
Let’s rewind.
A Quick History Lesson: The AMF Debacle
Back in 1969, AMF — a company known for bowling alleys and bicycles — bought Harley-Davidson. Problem was, they didn’t know squat about motorcycles, let alone how to manage a union shop or run a dealership network. They focused on cranking out bikes fast instead of building them right. Quality tanked. The brand took a nosedive. By 1981, Harley was nearly dead, and it took a management-led buyout to pull it back from the brink.
So here we are, decades later, Harley’s board is handing over the reins to a guy with a background in pizza delivery and tech golf.
Seriously?
Who Is Artie Starrs?
Starrs has a résumé that reads more like a summer MBA case study than something fit for a legacy motorcycle brand. He ran Pizza Hut globally and was most recently CEO of Topgolf — the flashy, tech-driven golf hangout chain. So yes, he’s got experience running consumer-facing brands. He’s grown revenue. He’s built teams. But has he ever run a company that manufactures high-precision machines? No. Has he worked with union-represented labor? No. Has he dealt with government regulators, trade policy, or import tariffs? No.
And that last point matters — because Harley-Davidson is caught right in the middle of those issues.
Big Red Flags
1. Manufacturing? What Manufacturing? Harley doesn’t make tacos or putters. This is heavy metal, engineered performance. It’s one thing to run a restaurant chain — it’s another to manage complex supply chains, machining tolerances, and skilled trades. Starrs has never done any of that.
2. Union Labor? Harley’s workforce isn’t a bunch of part-time teenagers slinging pizzas. These are skilled, often union-represented workers who don’t respond well to corporate fluff. That relationship has to be earned and respected — not learned on the job.
3. Dealers Aren’t Franchisees Sure, Starrs ran Pizza Hut and understands franchising. Topgolf and Pizza Hut deal in scripted experiences and controlled environments. Motorcycle dealers are different animals. They live and breathe the brand. They’ve got skin in the game — literally. And lately, many are pissed about pricing, margins, inventory levels and the direction of the brand. Starrs walks into a dealer network on edge. That tension already exists — and it won’t go away with a smile and a sales deck.
4. It’s the Brand, Stupid Harley isn’t a tech platform. It’s a lifestyle. A culture. A legacy. If Starrs thinks he can “modernize the experience” without alienating Harley’s core riders, he better buckle up — that road’s got potholes. Harley is about heritage, rebellion, and machines that make your heart race. If Starrs goes too far in trying to attract a new crowd without respecting the old guard, he could tear the soul out of the brand. In fact, his Bio from Top Golf highlights him as a strong advocate for driving meaningful customer experiences and an inclusive culture.That “inclusive” term might play well in the boardroom or a tech-driven entertainment brand, but in the Harley-Davidson universe, “inclusive culture” hits a different nerve entirely! It’s been a landmine and code for “corporate woke politics.” Not because inclusivity is inherently bad — it’s not — but because he’s entering a tribal, brand-loyal, authenticity-obsessed culture that doesn’t trust corporate buzzwords. He’ll need to prove that inclusivity doesn’t mean erasing the essence of Harley’s culture.
5. No Government Policy or Tariff Background. This is a big one. Harley’s been tangled in a mess of import tariffs, particularly with parts coming from the EU and Asia. Zeitz had to navigate those issues constantly — especially during these early Trump months. Starrs, by contrast, has NO track record of dealing with trade policy, federal agencies, or global regulatory bodies. He’s never been the guy at the table when Washington gets involved. And yet, that’s exactly the kind of fight Harley’s in.
So Is This a Disaster Waiting to Happen?
Yes — it could be. The signs are all there. This reads like AMF all over again. A board bringing in a consumer executive to “refresh the brand,” without fully understanding what makes Harley work — and more importantly, what’s kept it alive.
Harley doesn’t need a lifestyle marketer right now. It needs someone who understands motorcycles, factories, unions, dealer networks, pricing and trade regulations — or someone smart enough to know what they don’t know and surround themselves with people who do. Starrs could still prove me wrong, but right now, he’s starting with a full tank of skepticism and not much else.
Sans-Facial Hair – Artie Starrs
Final Thought — Let’s Call It What It Probably Is
The beard. If the beard sticks around, it’ll be interesting to see how it evolves. Does he show up at Sturgis with it? Is it part of the long game — or just a one-photo stunt for the press release? Artie Starrs has spent most of his public career clean-shaven, as you’d expect from a fast-food exec or entertainment CEO doing media rounds. But now, suddenly, in the Harley-Davidson announcement photo — BOOM, there it is: a neatly trimmed, full beard. It’s not Duck Dynasty, but it’s enough to notice. And it doesn’t look accidental.
So, is it just a pandemic-era fashion choice? Or is it something more calculated? A nod to the brand. A way of saying: “Hey, I’m not some corporate suit — I understand your world.”
Picture Left to Right: Blayne Hatcher HDMC, Stephanie Sunker, Caroline Calhoon, Chris Calhoon, Zakk, Artie Starrs HDMC, Alex Trester, Kevin Favier and Jeremy Lee.
And honestly, Harley’s PR team likely encouraged it. A visual first impression matters. Facial hair — even a mild version — softens the corporate edges and gives him a chance to look a little more rider, a little less boardroom. The irony is, Harley-Davidson doesn’t need Starrs to look like a biker. It needs him to lead like someone who respects the culture — not cosplay it. And if he’s growing facial hair to “fit in,” that could be just the first sign that this leadership shift is more about optics than substance.
Final, Final, Thought
Starrs, is expected to remain with Topgolf International through September 2025 to assist with an orderly transition. Topgolf has its own set of financial issues and the strategic direction or commitment to separating Topgolf from other Topgolf Callaway Brands Corp. (NYSE: MODG) remains in place to pursue a spin-off or sale of Topgolf.
The Motor Company is gambling on another outsider. Let’s hope they don’t get burned — again.
UPDATED: October 2, 2025 — According to this Facebook post, Mr. Starrs acquired a motorcycle endorsement and purchased a motorcycle from Maverick Harley-Davidson in Carrollton, Texas. They state: “He was enrolled in their Riding Academy Motorcycle Training Course and nailed it—license in hand—and came straight back to handpick his dream Harley (see above photo).“
Northwest Harley Blog 
