Eurocentric

With few exceptions, I make European choices. I drink LavAzza coffee, San Pellegrino water, and PG Tips tea. Kef loudspeakers rule. Omega watches are without peer. Greek food is my favorite. I would choose Moto Guzzi over Harley Davidson. James Bond could kick Captain America’s ass if it came down to it. When I was in the Navy, my sidearm was a Beretta M9, not a Colt 1911. And even though I have always lived in the heart of NASCAR country, I prefer delicate Formula One race cars to two-ton billboards going around in circles.

It comes as no surprise that I like European cars best. The first thing I built with Legos was a Saab 99 Turbo. The Lamborghini Countach represented pornography to me more than any glossy spread of a naked girl. A Volvo Turbo wagon was just about the coolest thing this side of a Ferrari. As a result of these tendencies, I once had a BMW E30. It was gorgeous. I was known by the car because there were exactly three other BMW’s in the tiny little town in which I found myself. A tall, pretty redhead wanted to marry me because of the car. I was urged to run for student council at the small college I went to because everybody knew I had a BMW. Every pledge to my fraternity had to ride down a treacherous mountain road in my (mostly sideways) BMW in order to pass initiation. For whatever reason, owning a BMW made me something different than had I owned a Ford.

To me, these were all fringe benefits, because I liked the way the little sedan drove. It was not very fast, but it made the most of what it had. I understand rev-matched downshifting, trailing throttle oversteer, and threshold braking because of that car. Of course, I also understand Bosch Jetronic fuel injection diagnostics, the difference between DOT3 and DOT4 brake fluid, and exactly how much it costs to buy factory parts for a BMW because of that car.

It would seem, then, that a 1980’s 3 series is the very definition of precision engineering. Truth be told, however, it was nothing special. Compared to a pedestrian Honda Civic of the day, it was a dinosaur. It had one cam on top of its iron block two valve engine. It had a simple strut front and trailing arm rear suspension. And it broke, constantly. The Civic, on the other hand, had a sophisticated DOHC 16 valve all aluminum engine with proprietary multi-port sequential fuel injection. The suspension was by short and long arms front and multi-link rear. It got better gas mileage while making substantially more power than the BMW. And it never, ever broke. But nobody wanted to marry you if you had a Civic. The same is true for most Asian cars. They have historically been superior to most other cars, and it seems the world is oblivious.

Eurocentricity eventually reached a tipping point in the early 90’s when Daimler Chrysler’s upper management released a memo stating nobody cared how well cars were engineered and built as long as it had a peace symbol on the hood, so start making crap. Indeed nobody cared, because the products from Mercedes-Benz have been crap for the last 20 years, and they are still a solvent corporation. And Mercedes-Benz is not alone. Porsche saved itself with the modern Boxster and 911, even though the engine has a well-known flaw that may result in catastrophic engine failure with no warning. BMW M division, who previously used magic and hand assembly to turn normal BMW’s into fire-breathing monsters, has become a sticker and software affair. VW / Audi / Seat / Skoda / Bentley use the same basic chassis for almost every car they produce, and price the product accordingly. Clearly, then, the accountants are in charge. I do not know what engineers at modern car companies do anymore. Probably jump out of very high office tower windows.

Your current choice of cars is surprisingly homogenous. Regulations and profit determine how cars are made, not designers and engineers. As a result, when I daydream about cars it is not about the latest carbon fiber tubbed BMW i3, it is about classics like a BMW 635CSi or Triumph TR6 or Peugeot 505 STi or an original Range Rover. And it is not that I don’t like American or Asian classics, but I would rather have a Volvo 245 over a Toyota Cressida wagon. Or a Jaguar XJ6 instead of a Chevrolet Impala.

A case in point, the Lotus Esprit V8 or Aston Martin DB7 is a brilliant value these days, but a more logical choice for the same money would be the Acura / Honda NSX.  We are talking here about premium sports cars, where passion and aesthetics take precedence over form and function. The Lotus is achingly beautiful, while the Aston is simply the definition of stunning. The Esprit was designed during the Nixon administration and the DB7 is based on an ancient Jaguar chassis.  It would be very optimistic to describe either car as unreliable.  The NSX, on the other hand, is built like any other honda.  

Visibility is good, the air conditioner works, the interior is quiet, and the entire car is hand built with high-quality materials and good ergonomics.  Only an idiot would choose a Lotus  or Aston over a Honda. But, I know which one will end up in my garage. And it is not that I don’t like the NSX, it is a fantastic car. But when it is compared to a Lotus or Aston Martin or any number of Porsches in the same price range, I tend to want the unreliable, poorly made, stunningly beautiful European car. Sure, they are fragile and slow, but at least they are expensive.

Maybe that best describes some European commodities. They are no better than, and can be substantially less reliable than the equivalent Asian or American product. This in no way diminishes the appeal of the European article. For instance, a Maserati Quattroporte is so much more appealing than a Cadillac CTS-V there is simply no reason to imagine a dilemma in choosing one over the other, despite the fact that the Cadillac is easily the better car.  But the Maserati has something undefinable that the shockingly fast and better made Cadillac is missing.  The Maserati is sophisticated and seductive, the Cadillac is competent.  When we make choices based on emotions, we usually make mistakes.  European cars can stir emotions that transcend normal considerations for simple transportation.  Moving oneself from point A to point B is accomplished equally well in a Toyota or an Alfa Romeo.   But I know which way I want to travel.  Besides, no tall redhead is going to care about your new Toyota.