98% of the cars on the market are pointless, vague, milquetoastmobiles. Yes, your favorite car probably is too. But before you start frothing at the mouth, let me give you an example of the sort of car I mean: The BMW M3.
Hold on, put down the pitchforks and torches. Stay with me. I know the M3 is popular—I've read more glowing reviews of it than I can count. Having been lucky enough to drive a 335i and sit in an M3, I have no doubt that it's fast, or that it's luxurious. Part of me would love to own one. But part of me thinks it's a pretty limp-wristed effort on BMW's part.
Doesn't BMW repeat at least 3 times a commercial that it's products are the “Ultimate Driving Machine?” And if that's their philosophy, shouldn't the M cars epitomize it? But somehow when I think of an “ultimate driving machine”, the M3 doesn't seem to fit. To me, such an ultimate machine should be a lightweight machine polished to a razor's edge of performance. It should be the kind of car that is intimidating to drive, but rewarding if you can master it. The M3's stunning V8 and manual transmission fit this vision—but the heated seats, automatic climate control, nav system, adjustable suspension, HID headlights, leather everything, optional automatic trans, and high curb weight emphatically do not.
If BMW makes a stripped out, lightened CSL version as they've done in the past, that will be a lot closer—but they'll charge more for it and I find it baldly insulting to pay more for what amounts to less car, or for what they should have built in the first place. Yes the old CSLs weren't exactly street-friendly, but that's the point! Posers and wannabes can have a 335i. You should want an M3 only if you're hardcore—and wouldn't it benefit BMW if M3 ownership stood for something?
For similar reasons, I have issues with most cars on the market. I've said it before but maybe 80% of the automotive market serves no purpose at all. Every car maker has a number of models that have no redeeming features at all, that are cynically designed with the knowledge of a public who views driving as a chore. The most popular car in America, the silver Toyota Camry, is the prime offender in this category.
I think a good car should have a clearly defined reason for being. You don't find many of those, but I'll give a few examples:
The Jeep Wrangler (up till 2006)
I've driven two of these. They drive like tractors no matter what engine and transmission they have. They sound like a tractor too, and they probably get similar gas mileage. They were designed before the acronym “NVH” existed. They are rough, uncomfortable, primitive and on that basis you wonder who'd buy them. And that's the point. They are engineered almost solely to go off-road. Doesn't matter if you ever TAKE yours off road, the point is that it CAN. The overriding fact of that purpose is their entire appeal—and if you doubt this, look at their popularity.
The Dodge Viper
Built to go fast. No traction control. No fancy suspension. No fancy transmission. No luxuries at all. A reputation for being just as tack-spittingly mean, as lethal even, as it's namesake. They built the mighty V10 by sticking two extra cylinders on the end of a truck V8 that dates back to the 1960s. Then they stuck it in a car so small they had to route the hot exhaust through the doorsills—which means that if you carelessly put your hand on one, this car will do you an injury before you ever get to drive it. Once again, this car was built for a purpose, and at that it excels.
The Honda S2000
Built to be the very embodiment of a sports car. It isn't fast, but it's so small and tight it doesn't have to be. The cockpit surrounds you exactly as you'd expect something deserving of the name “cockpit” to. Every single control is literally a finger's reach away from the steering wheel. The steering, brakes and transmission are absolutely perfectly calibrated. The engine sings to a stratospheric 9000 RPM. This car sticks so hard that I puckered up long before it did. It's said that it was designed to be a four-wheeled motorcycle...and it is. This is such a good sports car that it made me, a lifelong devotee of American muscle, a man with a sticker on his Jeep castigating imports with such vulgarity that I can't print it here, want a Honda.
The Pontiac GTO (2004-2006)
400 horsepower, 6 speeds and IRS for the price of a Mustang of a hundred ponies, one gear and a solid axle less. Looks like a Grand Prix, but if you “get it”, that's part of the appeal. Many traditionalists didn't like it—but even they will admit it was brought over from Australia and souped up for American roads in the same spirit as Jim Wangers had when he shoe-horned a 389 into a Tempest in 1964 and started it all.
So what am I getting at here? Simple. If you build a car to a purpose, it will excel. It will be an awesome car in it's own right, and it will add immensely to your brand to produce it.
Why don't auto makers get this? As much as I hate to say it, there's a place for the silver Toyota Camries of the world. But there's also a place for a hell of a lot more “real cars”, cars built for a purpose. Get with it, car makers. Give me something before I'm so old and gray that I buy a Camry.
