Italian Car + Turbocharger = Insult + ...?

Ferrari Says It's Turbo Time. Yikes.

(Image Credits: www.cincity2000.com)

Let's be real honest about something: it is possible to have too much of a good thing. Eat too much chocolate and you'll get fat. Drink too much and you'll either create a hurricane of vomit or end up in the hospital. Create a car with too much power and... well...

That is why the reports coming out that Ferrari is planning to turbocharge its engines in the future are so alarming. It's not that the Prancing Horse badge hasn't had breathing assistance in the past. The Autoblog article rightfully points out that the old F40 was a blown-V8. However, everyone had turbochargers back in the 1980s; even the Plymouth Voyager. Turbochargers were like fringed bangs, mullets, and shoulder pads; everyone had them, but not everyone was sure why.

A momentary interruption to our normally scheduled rant as we present material that

MAY CONTAIN ENGINEERING LIKE SUBSTANCE

Turbocharging: A Simple Primer

The benefits of turbocharging are simple: take a smaller, more efficient engine, strap on a vacuum, and get the power of a much larger engine when you want it. Simple, effective. This power boost is made possible by forcing more air into the combustion chamber; more air means more oxygen to react with fuel; more reaction means more power. Superchargers work in a similar fashion--ramming air into cylinders--however, they have the downside of being belt-driven; that is, it takes some of the power that you are making to run the supercharger. Not so, the turbocharger.
Hot exhaust gases created from combustion leave the cylinder and rapidly expand down the exhaust pipe at high velocity. This volume change is wasted in normal (or, to use engine parlance, normally aspirated) engines. However, by placing a turbine (turbo, get it?) upstream of the cylinder, it is possible to take advantage of this expansion and power a compressor off the same shaft as the turbine with a much smaller penalty paid in lost engine power. Turbochargers are lithe devices that operate at extremely high speeds and temperatures making them some of the most advanced, and fragile, systems in place on cars today. Despite their lightweight, though,  turbochargers still require time to accelerate to operational speed; enter the dreaded turbo lag.
What is turbo lag? Well, when you put the foot down in your normally aspirated car you get what engineers refer to as a "linear" response. The more that you put your foot down, the more acceleration that you perceive. This tends to progress in a very natural and expected fashion; the further your foot goes down, the faster the car goes, by proportion. Whether or not this is in fact linear is inconsequential. Now put a turbocharger onto the engine. Rather than increasing proportionally with throttle opening, the amount of air entering the engine with increasing engine speed is in fact exponential. The faster a turbocharger runs, the more air that it will pull into the cylinder, further accelerating the turbocharger. To get this reinforcing feedback, though, requires the engine to be running at sufficient speed to generate enough exhaust gases to be expanding fast enough down the cylinder to power the turbocharger. Furthermore, turbocharging allows the carmaker to use a smaller engine than they otherwise would. A small engine with no boost is not a very powerful engine. Yet, when the turbocharger reaches operating speed, the power will not come on gradually. Instead, it often slams home with frightening effect. Driving an unfamiliar turbocharged car can be a harrowing experience. The effect of turbo lag is exacerbated by having larger turbochargers; obviously, larger turbines mean larger inertia, mean more torque required for the same acceleration (thanks, Mr. Newton).

There have been several attempts over the years to mitigate --note, no one has ever claimed to be solving or to have solved the problem of turbo lag before the gents in Maranello -- the effects of turbo lag. The Supra Mk V had what are called "sequential" turbochargers. On these engines, a smaller turbo is placed in series with a larger one. At lower engine speeds, the smaller turbo "spools up" faster, giving boost at the low end. By the time the smaller turbo has reached its maximum operational velocity (at which point it produces no more boost pressure) the larger turbo is, theoretically, reaching its operating point; picking up where the little guy left off. This requires a very testy and time consuming development process. The two turbochargers must be sized properly such that one gives way to the other in a seamless fashion across a broad range of engine speeds. Rally cars have utilized "anti-lag systems" for years. For these systems, air from the intake side is admitted to the exhaust to keep the turbo spinning at a higher speed than if it were simply allowed to "stage down." Finally, VW has taken the novel approach of using both a supercharger and a turbocharger in what it calls a "twincharging" system. Despite initial expectations--and having driven one--I can say that the engine is marvelous. It delivers fantastic power down low and keeps on the boost well into the higher reaches of the tachometer. Even more impressively, it makes 160HP feel like all you will ever need, with the right 6-speed transmission, of course.

END TECHNICAL BANTER

With all this technology currently available, I really do wonder what Ferrari could be cooking up. They are masters of style, yes. Masters of advanced technology and innovative solutions to long-standing problems in automotive design? Not hardly. Back in the 1980s, automakers were putting turbochargers onto cars to get ghastly amounts of horsepower from engines that could barely handle it. Unsurprisingly, pressurizing an engine occasionally led to detonation. Today's computer-controlled engine management systems are vastly improved over their great-granddaddies from the "Me" decade, but they can't stop an over exuberant driver from spending a bit too long with the "go" pedal down a few too many times. Ferrari drivers are not known for restraint.
It will be necessary for Ferrari to increase their average fuel consumption if they intend to continue selling cars in California (see the marvelously ludicrous rumored Ferrari hybrid). Yet, I remain unconvinced. A turbocharged Ferrari has all the appeal of a monkey strapped to a stick of dynamite. He might be fun for awhile, but at some point he's going to bite you... or explode.

Tommi Kaira Prius: All Show, Still No Go

Proof That It's Okay to Be A Hypocrite
(Image Credits: Autocar Magazine Online)

Fans of Gran Turismo will have heard of Japanese tuning outfit Tommi Kaira. While TK earned digital fame for its mental versions of the Skyline GT-R and Mitsubishi Lancer, it seems that the erstwhile wrenchmen wanted to do something a little more, how shall we put it, green. Enter the Tommi Kaira Prius. This is a very important car. Before you laugh that one off, let me explain why. There have been a whole raft of so-called "hybrids" out there; the Escalade, Silverado, and rumored Ferrari V12 hybrid come to mind. These are little other than normal gas-guzzlers with large hybrids. Think of them as thirsty beasts wearing a cuddly, Earth-friendly badge. Tommi Kaira have unwittingly produced the exact antithesis of these cars: a hybrid dressed up like a sports car! Wow! Like Andre Agassi said back in his Canon days, image is everything. The question I'm left with is, what image exactly is TK going for? It is a niche car, that is for sure. But how large can the niche be for people that want a sporty-looking, though not altogether sporty driving hybrid car? It's the sort of people who want to wear outdoor performance clothing, but don't want to have to go through the hassle of actually going outdoors. Hey, maybe TK is on to something...

Ferrari Hybrid: Because California Cares

Look! It's a Plug-In Ferrari. Oh Wait, It's Just a Toy.
(Image Credits: hobbytron.com)

In this Autocar Online posting, Ferrari announces that their first hybrid car 'is likely to be a V12.' The stated reason, according to Ferrari president Amadeo Felisa:

"California will be the model that drives our innovations," he said, "because we feel its customers are more concerned about these things."

As my peers put it, to which 'things' is Mr. Felisa referring? Hybrid vehicles? V12 engines? Precisely why does Ferrari need a hybrid vehicle? Most importantly, why does Ferrari need a hybrid engined V12? Presumably, to meet Corporate Average Fuel Economy (CAFE) standards for the brand, it would be possible to sell enough hybrid engined V8s to offset the consumption of the paltry few V12s that Ferrari sell. For example, the last V12 engined Ferrari was the Enzo. During its three year production run, only 400 examples were sold worldwide.

Let's cut through the marketing-speak to the motivations behind what Mr. Felisa is saying:

1. The possibility alone of a hybrid Ferrari keeps Ferrari relevant, both technologically and psychologically. There has been an awful lot of talk about how the 'supercar age' is on the wane. By incorporating 'green' technologies like hybrid drive into sports cars, the sports car companies show that they are not completely out of touch. However, the absurdity of a hybrid V12 engine shows that reality isn't mixed in the Kool-Aid in Maranello.
2. California is a huge market for Ferrari. Back in the 1980s, when emissions and crash standards were introduced in the United States, Ferraris and Lamborghinis were sold on the gray market to bypass federalization requirements. If California continues its tack of having more stringent emissions requirements than the rest of the nation, Ferrari could quickly find itself legislated out of one of its primary revenue sources. That is simply unacceptable from an economic standpoint.

I applaud Mr. Felisa's carefully chosen words; decidedly free from the 'greenwashing' rhetoric that seems to color so much of what's going on at Frankfurt. As the industry continues to struggle for relevance, its anamolous brands like Ferrari, Aston Martin, and Porsche will find it continually more difficult to justify their own existence. Whether hybrid sports cars provide that grounding is uncertain, but let's hope for clearer statements in the future.

Ferrari Prostitution

A Prancing Pony?
(Image Credits: Autocar Magazine Online)

Fresh off the Autocar feed is the "Ferrari" Abarth 500; evidently the car that appeals to 'Ferrari owners who want a small everyday car.' Let's think about this: if Ferrari owners wanted small, everyday cars then they would have purchased small, everyday cars. Instead, they purchased Ferraris. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with this. If they have the money, why not buy a Ferrari? There are so few Ferraris on the road that the environmental ramifications are offset by plebes such as you and me.
However, this is nothing but prostitution. Ferrari is selling itself in the midst of a dire financial crisis in the hopes of cashing in on its brand name by selling a "Ferrari"-branded Fiat to yobs and wannabes. It's like owning a Ferrari hat or shirt or bottle of cologne that you can drive. The best part is that they try and pass it off as competition, since Aston Martin is releasing an 'Aston' version of the Toyota iQ called the Cygnet. This isn't competition, it's copying. Evidently, Ferrari is not so immune to the downturn as they would like us to believe. Both companies should beware, though. The appeal of both lies in their exclusivity. Imagine if Moët and Chandon decided to release a special M & C version of Coca-Cola; would it be anything other than a soda? Of course not. What you are looking at is 1.4L of tarted up soda.

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?