My Auto Company Bail-Out Plan: Sell the Focus RS

The Future of Ford: Currently on Sale in the UK
(Image Credits: Ford of Europe, UK)

TO: President Barack Obama, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington DC.

Dear Sir,

Call me old-fashioned, but back in the day car companies sold cars. Trouble is, somewhere along the line the business-types became more important than the engineers and political infighting superseded common sense. My favorite (most recent) example of this has to be the Ford Focus. I've written previously about how there are two Foci out there in the world. Here is the current American model; here is the current European (UK market) model.

Now I'm sure, Mr. President, that you will have particular thoughts on this based on your geography, but which would you rather own? The trouble with it is that you cannot, and will never have, a choice. Ford is actually two (three if you count Australia) separate companies with two (three) separate design offices with two (three?) separate design languages. Actually, it looks--much like their accents--that the Australians and English stay closer to one another than to the American language. A sensible mind would say, "wait a second, why build two of the same type of car?" The trouble is that sensible people only earn pink slips in the auto industry.

In the last episode of Top Gear (12 July), Jeremy Clarkson had a whacking great time in the new Focus RS. Here's a thought: an affordable, practical, 3-door hatchback with 300 horsepower, a high-tech differential, Bluetooth connectivity all for the equivalent price of about a Volkswagen R32 or Audi A3. Sounds like the kind of car that Ford needs to be selling, doesn't it? Problem is, they won't. Instead, America will get that exciting, Dodge Avenger-esque styling. Boy, doesn't THAT send your pulse racing.

The trouble is that American automakers have been so busy fighting amongst themselves that they haven't realized a couple of important points. The first is that none of them have styled something original since the Dodge Viper; and even that was a tarted up modern Shelby Cobra. Hence, nothing fresh is entering the American design aesthetic. Furthermore, Ford of American remains insistent that the European division can't possibly design a car for the American market because it is so "different." Yet, all this time, Honda, Toyota, and VW seem to be able to design cars for us "different" Americans. The second is that we, as consumers, have spoken with our silence. By not buying the droll, beige, generic cars rolling off Detroit production lines we've made quite clear that whatever they're selling we'll have no part of. When, all this time, our European cousins have been living it up, driving the Fords we should have had all along.

So, Mr. President, if I may respectfully offer my advice, if I were your 'car czar' my bail-out plan would be to bring things back to basics. Have the car companies sell the great cars that they are already building in America. Champagne would fall from the heavens, brands would be born again; that which was old would be made new. The Focus RS is either, sir, a vision of the future or another painful example of corporate-consumer disconnection.

Respectfully Yours,

Fuel Interjected

The Ship of Theseus, Automobile Restoration, and the Legendary "Barn Car"

There is a curious paradox, called ‘The Ship of Theseus’, that is frequently presented in introductory philosophy courses at universities. The ancient Greek historian, Plutarch, recounted how the Athenians repaired and kept the ship belonging to Theseus, the founder-king of Athens, as a memorial to him for centuries after his death.

The Athenians would, as needed, take each dilapidated plank of wood off of the ship, replacing it with a newer, seaworthy plank. Over time, so much repair work had been done on the ship that it was suspected that very little, if any, of the original wood from the ship remained. As the story goes, the ancient philosophers used to argue at length over whether the repaired ship was still in fact Theseus’ ship, since it contained very few, if any, of its original parts. Some argued that the repaired ship was a new ship that was very different in kind from the original, despite its identical appearance, while others argued that the ship’s identity had remained constant throughout time, still being Theseus’ original ship, despite the numerous repairs.

To this argument it is often added: What if the Athenians had been saving all of the planks they took off of the ship and used all of these original planks to construct another ship, would this ship be Theseus’ ship, or would the other repaired ship be Theseus’ ship?

Proposing a solution to the paradox of The Ship of Theseus is best saved for the philosophers but, nevertheless, its application to the automobile world is rather interesting. Imagine the following scenario. The current record for an automobile at auction is held by a 1957 Ferrari Testa Rossa (one of my favorite classics), at $12.15 million. This Ferrari was in pristine condition, having underwent an expensive, meticulous restoration. Now, imagine that another one of the twenty-two Ferrari 250 Testa Rossas made in 1957-58, is found in an old barn in, say, the Midwestern United States. It is a true example of a legendary “Barn Car,” a classic remaining in its original condition, free of any restoration, covered in dust and cobwebs from years of immobility.

We place a great deal of value in restored automobiles. Restorations range from simple jobs—maybe just a careful re-paint—to extensive projects involving removing and replacing each and every bolt, a so-called “bolts-off” restoration. Nevertheless, the goal is to restore the automobile as closely as possible to its original condition when it left the factory floor. Nevertheless, a true Barn Car is a near-priceless find, despite its dilapidated condition. Barn cars are valued for their original, unmolested condition, making them perfect candidates for restoration.

So, looking at it from an automobile enthusiast’s perspective, not a philosopher’s, which of the two ’57 250 TR is the more “real” ’57 250 TR? The restoration has returned the car to its original condition when it was new. Everything on the car, from its paint scheme, to its engine components, is as it was when new. As with any excellent restoration, if placed in 1957, the restoration would fit perfectly. Surely the individual that paid such a princely sum for the restored ’57 did not get a very pricey new car, but a true classic, right?

The other ’57, the Barn Car, however, is truly original. None of its parts have been replaced, nothing changed from its original condition, apart from the wear and tear common to a car that has not moved for decades. Despite the dust and cobwebs it has acquired from decades of immobility, an automobile enthusiast would call this “beautiful” just as readily as he or she would the restored ’57 250 TR sitting on the auction block. While it is difficult to say which of the two would fetch more on the market, it is sufficient to say that both are worth more than most of us can imagine.

It has always fascinated me how automobile enthusiasts balance aesthetics and functionality. The Barn Car, to be sure, will not start, but its original, untouched condition is both rare and beautiful, a relic of automobile history, unchanged and preserved for decades. Much like the imagined ship composed of all the original planks taken off as the Athenians conducted repairs, it is beautiful in its originality, but functionally useless. The restored ’57, of course, has a running engine and will drive like it did in 1957. While it, too, is a beautiful sight, knowing that an untouched Barn Car example of the very same car exists might make us wonder if this restored car, which is aimed aesthetically at imitating the originality of the Bar Car, is more beautiful.

Considering this balancing of aesthetics and functionality, I am unsure of which ’57 is more the “real” ’57 250 TR. It seems—for its automobile application, not in the original Ship of Theseus paradox—to come down to which one you are willing to assign more weight, aesthetics or functionality. Which do you choose?

If Ants Can Do It, America, So Can You!

Traffic: A Bug's Life?
(Image Credits: Pixar Studios)

The Economist's Tech.view blog had a brilliant post yesterday about the similarities and differences between traffic flows and ant trails. The correspondent acknowledged that there are myriad differences between ants which--put, simply--lack free will and the ever-selfish motorist. My personal favorite quote was the following:

Leaving aside roadworks, traffic jams are ultimately caused by drivers doing something stupid—taking unnecessary risks, misjudging distances, over-estimating their own skill or simply driving too fast. Don’t expect that to change much. In fact, as cars get safer, drivers seem to compensate by taking even bigger risks.

One of the first things that I was taught when I was learning to drive was to avoid using brakes on the Interstate. Now, I know, this doesn't sound like terribly brilliant advice. However, there is no denying the fact that the first indication of a hazard to a highway motorist is illuminated brake lights in the distance. Otherwise, at highway speeds especially, aerodynamic drag and a little something called 'paying attention to the road' should be sufficient to reduce speed in the event that the car in front of you reduces his speed just so. Otherwise you'll send 'jamitons' (only at MIT, I tell you, only at MIT) rippling back through the traffic behind you. You'd get mad if someone walking in front of you on the sidewalk stopped all of a sudden. Why not exercise a little courtesy on the road, as well?