In Focus: The PT Barnum Principle, Or How To Turn Off Lady Lawyers

by Mark Ewing on August 26, 2010

With women now numbering well over 50 percent of all graduating seniors at major universities, you’d think manufacturers and their ad agencies would do a better job appealing to them. College grads have more buying power over the course of their lives, even if current economic conditions ensure a tough decade for 20-somethings. In recent months, ads from both Chevy and Ford have been put under my nose by rather well-educated young women, graduates of various professional schools.

The first ad brought to my attention? Chevrolet Equinox in Vogue, the issue with French actress Marion Cotillard on the cover. (Follow the link, then scroll down to a slide show of Cotillard’s spread in Vogue.) A two-page spread showing the car’s instrument panel (IP) photographed point of view (POV), with the Manhattan skyline in the distance, I’ve posted it below. First point? Ah, you’re not in Manhattan, but Jersey. Next? Oh, there’s a Manhattan brownstone in the rearview mirror, when in fact you would have an empty Jersey parking lot in the mirror. But wait, there’s more. Though women will tell you they WANT a spot in a vehicle to place a purse, apparently they don’t want to read lines like, “We’ve given the center console enough room to stow a handbag… .” Perhaps better to show than tell. The Equinox ad targets fans of Sex and the City, as the pull quote is ”Built for Blahniks,” lifted from that insightful arbiter of national taste, Time.

The ad is pathetic for more than its copy. It’s obviously a construct with the IP photographed in-studio, or even generated in virtual space with a wire frame, the Manhattan skyline then dropped into place. And this typically crude Detroit pastiche is presented in Vogue? To the halfwits at the Chevy agency, I say this: Check the photo gallery with Marion Cotillard. Highly artistic, beautifully art directed, sexually provocative to the rare male who might be shown the feature (I sure liked it)—in short, classic Vogue. It’s aimed at women with elevated tastes, who possess an understanding of fashion, art and design, and who might have the money to buy the fashions and cosmetics advertised, if not the true haute couture clothing. Vogue ain’t Cosmo, guys. When you cooked up this ad, you were thinking like men from Sterling Heights, Michigan, and not from Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce. You let budgets force a series of stupid decisions. But the women you’re trying to attract? They’re enjoying the art and design of Vogue. Why don’t you try a bit of it yourself? You know, hire a real fashion photographer, or a car shooter with artistic capability. Instead of pedantically showing the instrument panel—I can hear former GM exec Bob Lutz yammering about how “we’re selling product here”—why don’t you place the Equinox in a tableau that fits the creative standards of Vogue? Show the vehicle as part of someone’s life, not as a set of components, or a hackneyed attempt to reach Sex and the City fans. You could even be somewhat predictable and place it next to a Monet-inspired haystack at dawn or dusk. But then, not everything works with a wire frame and stock photos. And the message this hashed together ad sends is clear: Chevy has no sense of style and no cultural depth, so why would you want to buy the Equinox? Unless you think the readers would be interested, and you create ads that will appeal, stick to Ladies Home Journal or Parade with ads like this.

The saddest component of this story and the reaction? Missed opportunity. The afternoon this ad was presented by a professional woman: Stanford, Hastings, 31, worked in Europe, New York, and LA, artistic understanding, fashion-conscious, a sensible WASP who would be open to any vehicle she believed was solid, safe, reliable, and a good deal, drives the Honda that carried her through law school. She was along for the afternoon. We’d just left a movie theater (brilliant Italian movie with the uninspired title I Am Love, with British actress Tilda Swinton in the lead), I needed to top off the gas tank and, right on cue, an Equinox appeared at the Chevron station. I pointed out the Equinox to the woman, then stepped out to fill the tank. I gathered these comments on the way to dinner: “I like it. It’s more upright. It doesn’t have those weird little windows like that ugly Accord wagon thing you pointed out earlier [editor’s note: she means the Crosstour, which she hates]. I bet you can see out of it. I like the design.” As the conversation rolled along, she added this: “I took mom to my Honda dealer for her CR-V. I think the guys at those kinds of dealers, Ford and Chevy, would treat me like a stupid woman.”

And how can you change that perception with clumsy pastiche ads in Vogue? Reminds me of the Dodge La Femme–ham-fisted.

Where the Equinox ad was deemed a bit patronizing and clumsy—the women in my informal poll LIKED the idea of a center console pocket that can hold a huge purse, but didn’t want to be told about it in a patronizing way—a series of Ford TV ads was viewed as an utter and complete insult. And man, do I mean an insult. If Ford thinks they will convert any of these women into Lincoln owners after they’ve seen the Dirty Jobs ads, they need to lay down the crack pipes.

I gathered reaction on the Dirty Jobs ads promoting Escape and Edge. Mike Rowe, who sang professionally with the Baltimore Opera before finding a new career in TV, is the host of the cable TV hit show, Dirty Jobs. In these ads, he comes across as condescending and insulting toward women, though I suspect he doesn’t mean to be. Now, if this were a regional or local dealer ad campaign for the Midwest and Plains states, maybe the south, Ford might get away with this, though I’d like to think women anywhere in America wouldn’t appreciate the messaging. But on a national level? Shown to women with professional degrees? Are you kidding me? It shows how utterly out of touch Detroit is. All the more disappointing because Jim Farley, who heads up Ford marketing, earned his MBA at Stanford. Hey, Farley? You once worked at Scion. Well, many of your fellow graduates of “the farm” are unimpressed with the ads.

In the first ad, Mr. Dirty Jobs speaks to the confusion of the female, who cannot choose between Edge and Escape. In the second ad, we see the idiot female lunging back and forth between the two vehicles in the Ford showroom as Mr. Dirty Jobs commentates. HA HA HA. Look at the confused bubblehead female. Yeah, OK, this ad will appeal to many engineers and marketing humps I used to work with in Dearborn, guys who would consider attending a foreign film in Royal Oak or Ann Arbor as an indication of homosexuality, but the ad ensures that when my friend the young lawyer needs to replace her Honda, it won’t be with the very nice (and I am sincere in this comment) 2011 Ford Explorer I saw a couple of weeks ago. If you insult women who are capable of writing the check, how do you sell these vehicles? And if ever you want to meet a practical, sensible group, it’s this segment of the population. Due to the burden of student loans and the current economic condition of our country, most of them have little interest in expensive show-off cars. They’re perfect candidates for the new Ford Explorer CUV, assuming it’s well made.

Worse yet, Mr. Dirty Jobs is actually INSIDE a Ford dealer in this ad, reinforcing the perception that domestic dealers are populated with Neanderthals, who will be condescending toward women, trying to take advantage of them. Is this a wise approach, Mr. Farley? Or did your lieutenants even think it through? You’ve clearly forgotten all you learned at Toyota, Lexus and Scion, where ads are positive and, ummm, gender-neutral.

Admittedly, PT Barnum was right about never going broke under-estimating the taste of the American public. And maybe Ford marketing guys are accepting that they will never get these young professionals. In California terms, Ford is a Fontana product, not beach town or Pasadena. Sad reality, as I can imagine myself recommending the new Ford Explorer if the quality proves out. I’ve recommended the Taurus as an option to folks exploring family sedans.

But these ads also blunt a truth recently expressed by an old friend who once worked with Ford. He’s not a wordsmith, so I had fun with his initial misstatement: “Ford is a completely classless company.” I told him that though I agree many Ford managers I’ve dealt with proved completely classless, what he really meant was that Ford transcends socio-economic boundaries, primarily because a Ford F-series is a fine product, an excellent bit of industrial design, and possesses a trait most Americans admire: honesty. And Ford has heritage cars that appeal across the American social spectrum. Who wouldn’t want the 1966 Mustang convertible painted in Porsche Guards Red owned by the Cars In Context IT guru? Warren Buffet would be happy to cruise that beauty. The same can be said for a Chevy pickup. An F-series is like Levis: rich or poor, they’re an honest statement and perfectly acceptable damn near anyplace. But Ford blows that potential when they run ads that mock half the population.

This fear and loathing of car dealerships in general and domestic dealerships in particular is fostered by ad campaigns like Ford’s. The women polled for this In Focus piece found validation in the ads, validation of their negative views of car dealers in general. They also immediately concluded the ads were aimed at males, not females. Gee, no kidding.

Over the coming decades, we can’t ask Ford and GM to compete against the high-end Germans or Japanese brands for the dollars of these young women. But oddly enough Toyota and Honda ads are for the most part viewed as positive. They show happy people driving Camrys and Accords. They do not portray either men or women in a negative light. They show ownership as a positive experience.

The women polled all loved the current BMW ads, which show men and women as equals, taking joy in their vehicles. One ad for a domestic product that several women told me they really like? The new Jeep campaign: What we make defines us. We used to be great, and we will be great again, starting now. When I mentioned that the Jeep Grand Cherokee was so good that the Germans used its pieces to make the new M-class before dumping Chrysler, they were intrigued. For a lady doctor in the Rocky Mountains, I’d recommend taking a look at the Grand Cherokee, along with a Sequoia and a Subaru (she’s not much into cars, loves the little Corolla she has driven through all phases of her medical training, and would likely trust the Toyota brand, or go for that crunchy granola Subaru image). And all women in the polling population appreciated the Ken Burns style of the Jeep ad, evoking the greatest generation, for whom most of these women have a sense of reverence, if not by family connection then through historic appreciation fostered by their educations. They all liked the message sent by this ad, which also fits difficult times.

Detroit, take a hint: travel beyond the Rouge River sometime. Dearborn is not actually the center of the universe, nor is the Ren Cen.

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In Focus: The Coming Storm

by Chris Sawyer on August 25, 2010

This article originally appeared August 20, 2010. I wrote it for my former editor’s site as part of a two-week commitment while he took a well-deserved vacation. Editor Ewing liked it so much, he asked that it be reprinted here. Enjoy.

The week of Detroit’s annual Dream Cruise is one of increasing energy. The number of out-of-state plates increases. More cars are cruising Woodward Avenue each night. An increasing number of people line the streets in lawn chairs and in parking lots to watch the cars go by. Everything from a BMW Isetta with a Chevy V8 hanging out the back to pristine Ford Mavericks and Pinto to hand-built hot rods to Depression-era and earlier cars to high-end sports cars roam the road. And so it was Thursday night.

I was in the middle of the scrum with my girlfriend. No, we didn’t have the 1969 Lotus Elan or the 1969 Ford Cortina. (Both are off the road.) We had a smart car. An incongruous vehicle, I’ll admit, in a sea of muscle cars. Coming back down Woodward on our first loop, we were surprised to hear the air-raid sirens going off. To a person in the Midwest, that can only mean one thing: Tornado. The local radio stations were talking about a line of severe thunderstorms heading our way, and the skies behind us had turned a dark blue-black. Time to leave.

Crawling along with traffic, we grabbed the first major side street we could find, and headed for home. And the smart’s three-cylinder engine and automated manual transmission chugged us along in a quick but choppy fashion. That’s when the thought that had been rattling around in my head since hitting Woodward popped into view.

At the start of the month, the CEO of Hyundai’s American operations, John Krafcik, had announced that his company was going to make a “moon shot” and build vehicles that would have a fleet average of 50 mpg by 2025. This publicity stunt got a lot of attention, and probably seemed like a good idea, since no one expected the federal government to raise CAFE standards above 45 mpg. At 50 mpg, Hyundai looked like exemplary corporate citizens, ignoring the fact that the Korean car maker is far from a full-line automaker, and it could bask in the green glow of sycophantic media adulation. Only 45 mpg isn’t that far above 35 mpg to a bureaucrat.

Then came word that Washington is looking to raise fleet fuel economy to 60 mpg by 2025. A figure even the diminutive smart I was driving can’t come close to reaching. That would mean forcing automakers to adopt mass electrification of the fleet, forcing hundreds of thousands of pure electrics onto the market each year. Prices would rise. Costs would skyrocket. Trucks would all but disappear. More than a few automakers would be in grave danger of collapsing under the strain. And for what?

As the dark clouds moved closer, I thought of the futility of this Soviet-style top-down regulation. It takes at least 15 years to turn over the fleet. That means it would be 2040 at the earliest before anyone would even begin to see the fruits of the new standards, if their implementation didn’t slow down new cars sales. In less time than it takes to write the new mileage standards, and all of the loopholes that will be necessary to make it possible to reach the magic 60 mpg average, the energy question could be solved by getting the government out of the way. Diesel could drastically cut energy use and reduce greenhouse gas emissions (if you believe that global warming isn’t a gigantic Ponzi scheme and farce), but at the cost of increased particulate emissions that might kill 162,000 people over 70 years. I’ve written about this before, but doubt that sanity will enter a political equation that revolves around exercising and keeping power.

Still, as the weather reports became more numerous, I couldn’t help but think that, in some Blade Runner future, I might have to depend on a fuel cell or battery or highly stressed combustion engine to get me and my loved ones to safety. I don’t doubt the ability of engineers to figure out ways to make things work. I do, however, doubt the ability of some power-obsessed, do-gooder bureaucrat who lives in one of the most insular cities on the planet to decide what form my future transportation will take. It’s my life, my future, my determination.

The storm passed our area without harm (others were not so lucky), and we parked the smart in my driveway and went in to watch the storm coverage on TV. Ticking and popping as it cooled down after a brisk drive, the smart sat tired but content. It’s the right choice for someone, but not necessarily for me. If forced to, I could live with it, but that’s a decision I’d prefer to make on my own so that my future Dream Cruises don’t become a nightmare born of publicity stunts and bureaucratic overreach.

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In Focus: The Indy Racing League

by Chris Sawyer on August 18, 2010

Dallara Hondas at the 2010 Indy 500. (Bret Kelly photo)

It has taken a few weeks for me to absorb the Indy Racing League’s rule package for 2012, especially in light of the fact that the league put together a panel of experts, and promised a new direction. They were prodded by the creation of the dragster-like DeltaWing project that promised to radically alter the look of IRL racing, dramatically lower costs and create an “open source” network that would design and build upgrades for the car, above all the bodywork, that would be available to all competitors. In addition, simulations suggested the DeltaWing’s extreme low-drag shape would match or exceed the current Dallara chassis’ speeds around Indianapolis Motor Speedway, use only 300 horsepower to do it, and open the door to automakers racing slightly modified street engines with computer-controlled fuel regulators to keep everyone honest.

DeltaWing proposal was anything but conventional.

DeltaWing proposal was anything but conventional.

Though the DeltaWing would have been built in Indiana (apparently a major requirement for the 2012 IRL car), it was rejected by the establishment before a prototype could even be built, a sure sign of how threatening it was to the status quo. Rousing from its months long slumber on the new-car front, the IRL leapt into action, announcing the 2012 rules package. The only thing that survived from the DeltaWing was the “open source” bodywork. Only now it is mounted to a Dallara-designed and –built “safety cell” (chassis) and powered by a 2.4-liter turbocharged V6 race motor. Only Honda has announced plans to build an engine for the series. Honda. Dallara. On the surface, nothing has changed.

The IRL claims automakers and companies like Boeing and Lockheed may (the key word in everything surrounding the 2012 car) build their own bodywork for the Dallara chassis. Obviously, no one ever stopped to consider why an automaker would create brand-specific (the IRL’s term) bodywork for a car that might not be running their engine. Or why aeronautical companies like Boeing or Lockheed might want to participate. Yes, they have legions of trained aerodynamicists who could pump out bodywork designs in a weekend, but—other than Boeing creating a 787-inspired theme to keep that much-delayed project fresh in the minds of consumers and airlines—why bother? There’s no upside for them here.

Oh wait. Lotus has said it will produce unique bodywork for the new car, but that’s a long way from Ferrari doing the same—or Ford. Lotus is in the midst of a rebranding campaign, trying to reignite the passion and image it once had when competing at the top levels of motorsport. Lotus has little to lose, though Toyota, which supplies the powertrains for Lotus’ road cars, can’t be too thrilled that the British sports car maker’s name is so closely associated with rival Honda. Though you have to wonder if they care. It’s not like the IRL is front page news.

Lego would be proud. Mix-and-match bodywork for standardized Dallara chassis (Ron McQueeny photo)

Lego-ville. Mix-and-match body, standardized chassis. (Ron McQueeny photo)

However, if other car makers decide to build an engine for the series, how does this differ from the Grand Am’s Daytona prototypes, other than the fact that Grand Am allows multiple chassis makers to participate? Like the 2012 IRL rules, the Grand Am keeps a tight lid on technology, requires cars to run brand-specific bodywork (in this case matched to the engine being used), and puts an emphasis on “the show” rather than on pure competition. It’s claimed this keeps costs low, gives more teams the chance to compete on an even playing field, and does away with expensive technologies the fans care nothing about. Yet the same few teams win every year, just like in the IRL. In Grand Am, it comes down to dollars for reengineering of the “spec” car, and prep work that leads to reliability. Will you even have that in the IRL? All of this suggests a series too far gone to be salvaged, and of interest to only the most ardent enthusiast.

So what is the answer? It depends very much on whom you ask. Just after the 2010 Indy 500, Editor Ewing contacted Bill Riley of Riley Technologies, a long-standing race car engineering company, and Peter Brock, a designer and life-long racing enthusiast best known for his shaping of the Cobra Daytona Coupe, creation of the BRE Datsuns, and his ongoing pursuit of automotive invention. To put it mildly, they did not agree on the direction the IRL should take.

According to Riley, “It’s a shame the crowds are leaving such a great event, but there may not be much popular appeal for this type of motorsport, a problem common to all forms of professional racing.” [Riley noted that the 24 Hours of Lemons received twice as many Google hits as did the 24 Hours of Le Mans.] That didn’t stop Riley, whose father, Bob, designed A.J. Foyt’s 1977 Indy 500 winning Coyote, from suggesting a few changes that might turn the tide of apathy. He began by proposing greatly narrowing the tires so that drivers are forced to brake at the end of the straights on the ovals. This reduces cornering speeds and increases the reliance on driver talent.

As for the type of engines used, Riley said, “You need a two-pronged approach. Though standard production engines are too ‘light’ to survive real competition, the league should mandate engines built using stock dimensions (bore, stroke, block angle, etc.) fitted with turbos and pop-off valves.” Riley believes these engines should run on a strictly regulated amount of fuel to force efficiency and reduce the likelihood of teams running massive amounts of turbo boost. To force longevity and keep costs under control, each car would be limited to one engine per race weekend. In this same vein, Riley said the production engines should not be fully stressed members as are current race engines. “Though this goes against current engineering principles,” he said, “cradling the motor eliminates the massive amount of work that goes into designing the block and heads of fully stressed race engines.”

Interestingly, Riley agrees, in principle, with the direction the IRL has taken with the safety cell. “A standardized safety cell, roll hoop and other fundamentals, produced under contract by Dallara, Panoz or a similar company, would certainly be a good way to create innovation without sacrificing driver or spectator safety.” However, he also thought that such a series would merely make the top teams more dominant, as they can pile on the money necessary to innovate in the wind tunnel.

1980 Chaparral brought innovation, and ground effects, to Indy. (Ron McQueeny photo)

1980 Chaparral brought innovation to Indy. (Ron McQueeny photo)

Peter Brock agrees with Riley and the IRL that a standardized safety cell is essential to guaranteeing the hard-won safety gains of the past decade. However, his ideal Indy car rules have only four main points:

  1. Limit tires and wheels to anything that will fit through a spec “box” template that defines overall width and height.
  2. Limit aerodynamics to anything directly attached to the main body (no wings or separated front aero devices). Absolutely no under-body or through-the-body air (ground effects) except that which is used to cool air or oil or feed the engine’s intake.
  3. Spec fuel (ethanol), but leave tank size free.
  4. Any size production engine block and heads (internals are free, as long as the result is normally aspirated) or any 3.0-liter normally aspirated “race engine.”

Like Riley, Brock is adamant that the “driver pod” must pass current FIA crash specifications. He is equally adamant that, “Everything else should be wide open to promote innovative engineering solutions at minimal cost, and place a premium on driver ability. Most importantly, this will separate the performance envelope of each design solution so different cars will have certain advantages over others so drivers can pass more easily.”

It’s hard to say who is right. Tough economic times bring shrinking sponsorship dollars and force sanctioning bodies and competitors to find innovative ways to reduce expenditures. Yet poll after poll shows that Indy car fans are tired of grids filled with cars delineated by their paint jobs, powered by spec engines, and plagued with a lack of competition both on and off the track. Tight packs circling together on tight ovals, the epitome of a “good show,” are seen as contrived and boring. These polls suggest fans want a series where the engineers, the engine builders and teams each contribute to success on the track. And where the drivers have to drive, not just breathe the throttle at the entrance of a corner and squeeze the steering wheel a bit. It’s hard to imagine that the 2012 IRL racer meets any of their requirements.

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In Focus: Guest Blogs At Auto Field Guide

by Mark Ewing on August 13, 2010

Editor Sawyer has been asked to be the guest blogger on the autofieldguide.com/blog web site. It seems his former boss and readers just can’t get enough of his prose. Sawyer’s first entry launched on Monday, and he’s scheduled to write a new piece every other day for the next two weeks. That’s more work than he does around here. But you can’t expect too much out of an old industry geek. Unless of course the topic is in some way, shape or form related to Lotus.

Check out his three two posts here, and here, and here, and drop by to see what he has to say on Friday and next week. It should be interesting.

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In Brief: Ford Taurus SHO

by Chris Sawyer on August 5, 2010

In its first incarnation, the Taurus SHO was an American take on a European sport sedan—powered by a Yamaha-designed and developed high-output V6. It was a cult favorite, and a success that followed the SVT credo without coming through that organization. By the time the second-generation SHO was ready, the Taurus had grown, it’s Audi 5000 lookalike styling was shoved aside for a mass of ovals (grille, roofline, rear window, etc.), and the Yamaha V6 was replaced by an under-performing Yamaha V8. It wasn’t nearly as pure or successful as the original.

Fast-forward a few years. The Taurus name is dropped, and the Five Hundred takes over. Conservative, blocky, and built off a modified Volvo XC90 SUV platform, it was a car potential buyers would vote most likely to be bought with an AARP discount. Replacing the generic front end with a rendition of Ford’s three-bar grille helped give it some badly needed personality, as did replacing the Five Hundred name (a leftover from the 1960s) with the more current Taurus badge. But it wasn’t enough.

Chopping two inches out of the roof and giving it bodywork similar to that found on Ford’s Interceptor concept made the new Taurus something the Five Hundred/Taurus wasn’t: stylish. It also helped hide the sheer size of the vehicle, while giving it a look similar to, but more modern than, Chrysler’s 300C. Dropping in a twin-turbocharged EcoBoost V6 with 365 hp and 350 lb-ft of torque and mating it to an all-wheel-drive system brought dreams of an American Audi A6, especially considering the SHO’s $37,770 base price. That’s a lot for a Ford, and $12,600 above the price of a base Taurus. [Our test car, fitted with options like heated and cooled seats, adaptive cruise control, voice-activated navigation and other items stickered at $44,440.] The question then becomes: Is it worth it?

Engine, Transmission, Drivetrain

It’s amazing what a difference a modern V6 will make to a car. Though the original SHO used a throaty, high-revving Yamaha-designed V6, more pedestrian versions of the original 1980s Taurus were stuck with an engine more suited to tractors and delivery trucks than modern automobiles. This time around Ford began with a modern 3.5-liter, 24-valve engine, added direct injection and twin turbochargers, and came up with a powerplant that can be both frugal and powerful. Treat it nicely, and you’ll see 22 mpg on average. Drop the hammer consistently, and that number can drop as low 16 mpg.

The EcoBoost V6 is mated to a six-speed automatic transmission. There is no manual option. However, Ford has seen fit to give the SHO steering wheel-mounted paddles so you can pick your gear. Push and pull the plastic paddles to change up and down. It sounds simple, but it isn’t. As with the Cadillac CTS Sport Wagon we recently tested, you must first move the shift lever from “D” (Drive) to “M” (Manual) before you can take advantage of this capability. Perhaps the domestic automakers believe this prevents drivers from accidentally changing gears at inopportune times, an issue the in-house product lawyers would bring up. If true, the buyers are idiots who don’t deserve the privilege. As for the rest of us, the ability to drop down a gear or two, or shift up when we want, is not worth the bother of driving around all day in “M” mode or depressing the lock button on the shifter, dropping it into manual mode and activating the buttons. By the time that happens, the opportunity is gone. Interestingly, the European automakers don’t require this multi-step process, and their cars are more satisfying as a result. Then again, they also don’t have push-on, push-off parking brake pedals like the SHO, either. A nice Fifties touch. Makes me think of President Eisenhower.

Pumping 365 hp through the front wheels would have been a problem, so the SHO comes standard with all-wheel drive. Brake torque the car from a stop, and you can get a satisfyingly rapid launch with little drama as power is shunted to the rear wheels to help acceleration and reduce torque steer. It’s not an NHRA funny car by any means, though it is quick, and the lack of drama is in keeping with the SHO’s sophisticated demeanor. [Note: Engineers tell us of a basically stock SHO whose boost has been turned up to the point where it produces 500 hp and runs the quarter-mile in less than 11 seconds. It is a test bed for a high-output 2012 model that will produce more than 400 hp.]

Suspension, Steering, Brakes

This is where the magic begins. As good as the drivetrain is, the suspension is better. It does not sacrifice ride comfort for capability, keeps body roll in corners to a minimum, and doesn’t seem to care whether there’s just a driver onboard or a full complement of passengers. Just don’t expect the SHO to hunt down BMW M5s on your favorite twisting road. It’s a large, heavy (4,368-lb.) sedan with SUV roots. That Ford has gone as far as it has with this basic package is impressive, and proof that it has some of the more accomplished ride-and-handling engineers around.

Though one could quibble with the damper valving at the extremes of travel or how it handles very specific types of surfaces at speed, 95% of the time you’ll never notice any problems. The SHO doesn’t so much glide as it covers ground with a maturity and sophistication most other large sport sedans, especially those from American makers, can’t comprehend. And while the electric power-assisted steering is lacking in feel (almost all electric steering systems suffer this problem, don’t they?), its weight and effort are matched to those of other controls in the cockpit, especially the aluminum-clad brake and throttle pedals. Someone cared, and it shows.

I never had the opportunity to test the brakes to the point of fade, but the twin-piston front and single-piston rear disc brakes proved more than capable of pulling the SHO down straight and true every time. If there is a fault, it is that the brakes are slow to actuate, not coming on until the pedal had been depressed about an inch. Though the pedal felt solid, the lack of an immediate reaction caused me to wonder just how effective the brakes might be in a panic situation. As a result, I never pushed the SHO as hard and deep into a corner as I might if the pedal stroke had given me more confidence.

For $995, you can order the SHO Performance Package, which upgrades the brake pads, retunes the shocks, adds stiffer springs, features a “Track Mode/True Off” setting on the standard electric stability control system, and substitutes 20-in. chrome wheels with Goodyear Eagle F1 summer performance tires. Most drivers will find the standard spec just fine, and I can’t imagine anyone taking a car as large as the SHO to the local road course for a track day.

Body, Design, Quality

Ford’s quality has improved significantly over the past few years, and the SHO was proof of this. Unlike the extra-ugly second-generation Taurus SHO V8, which felt like it would self-destruct within weeks of the last payment clearing the bank, the 2011 model felt solid, safe and secure. No doubt, a good portion of that is due to its Volvo heritage, and improvements made in Ford build process. Mullaly was smart to poach a Toyota quality engineer when he first signed up at Ford.

Overall, the car is handsome, though its high beltline and narrow rear window make vision to the rear something of a problem. Thankfully, our test car had Ford’s Blind Spot Monitoring System and a rearview camera that displays what it sees in either the rearview mirror or the optional navigation screen. However, you have to wait before backing up in the morning as the nav screen has to first display the Ford oval and a “Sound Designed By Sony” message before showing you what is behind the car. Guys? Can you drop the brand messaging when it comes to real-world situations where safety should be of the highest concern?

Interior, Ergonomics

The Taurus has a sleek, double-cowl instrument panel that sweeps away from the driver and front-seat passenger in order to make the interior airier and roomier than it otherwise might have felt. Unfortunately, this places the buttons at the top of the center stack beyond easy reach, and the architecture of the dash actually limits the adjustability of the dash vents. It’s not possible to adjust them below mid-chest, making it impossible to cool the lower body. And the vents extend below the silver weave trim panels that extend across the front of the instrument panel. This makes the dash look more cut-up and less cohesive than it otherwise might have been, and is an unforced error in what is a handsome cabin.

Ordering Rapid Spec 402A adds a power moonroof, 12-speaker Sony audio system, heated rear seats, power rear window sunshade, rain-sensing wipers, automatic high beam control, adjustable pedals with memory, and heated and cooled front seats. On muggy days, the latter proved to be a nice addition and worth the $3,500 package price.

The seats of our test car were trimmed in leather with suede inserts that keep you from sliding around. As a result, the SHO doesn’t need large seat bolsters to keep you in place under heavy cornering because the fabric is holding you in place, but all that suede stiction can impede entry and exit, particularly if you like corduroy pants and have a large behind. However, a slightly longer lower cushion would go a long way toward making these one of the most comfortable front seats in the industry.

Rear-seat passengers don’t miss out, their slightly higher seating position helping to reduce both claustrophobia and motion sickness. A large center armrest with integrated cupholders can be folded down when the center position isn’t in use, and the seatbacks fold down to increase the SHO’s cargo capacity from huge to enormous. The 20.1 cu. ft. trunk is large enough to satisfy even the most prodigious hit man.

Conclusion

The Taurus SHO is not an American Audi S6 or BMW M5. It is a large, capable, surprisingly sophisticated American sport sedan that is well-suited to American driving conditions, but more than capable of holding its own on a favorite stretch of road. It is available with technology many of its competitors can’t match, and a price—while high for a Ford—that is thousands less than European and Japanese sport sedans.

Which brings me back to the question posed initially: Is it worth it? Yes. The Taurus SHO impressed all who rode in it with its ability to gobble highway miles, subdue corners without inflicting pain on the passengers, accelerate quickly and return decent fuel economy. Despite its faults, minor though they are, it is a monument to how far Ford has come in a few short years. Perhaps “the Company” has finally broken its bad habits and will not rest on the scant few laurels it has garnered in the past 18 months. Good though the Taurus SHO is, those that follow will have to be even better.

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In Context: 2011 Hyundai Sonata Limited

by Mark Ewing on July 28, 2010

Hyundai is getting a lot of soft-touch press these days, working this new love affair to best advantage, crowing a bit about Hyundai’s nascent role as leader and innovator. After spending a week with a loaded Sonata, and visiting a couple of dealers to look over the stock on the ground, I’d say Hyundai has a major effort ahead to become an innovator, as the Sonata is nothing more than a pleasing mash-up of ideas from other companies, a blatant compilation piece. The car also has flawed suspension and steering, and some hit-and-miss quality, mostly relating to the assembly and fit of molded pieces, both inside and outside the car, but also to fundamentals of the structure. However, Sonata is a clear statement of intent from the Koreans that they will compete on par with Detroit, and the second tier of Japanese companies, and with a bit more work can compete with Honda, Subaru and Toyota in the future. Hyundai does not make my very narrow recommended list, but with a little work, they just might.

Prime Numbers

  • Price: $25,295. As Tested: $28,415
  • Engine: 2.4-liter DOHC inline four
  • Horsepower: 198 hp @ 6,300 rpm
  • Torque: 184 @ 4,250 rpm
  • Drivetrain: Front-engine, front-wheel-drive with six-speed automatic transmission, including semi-auto shift.
  • Suspension F/R: MacPherson struts/multi-link independent
  • Length: 189.8-in.
  • Width: 72.2-in.
  • Height: 57.9-in.
  • Wheelbase: 110.0-in.
  • Weight: 3,316 lb.

Who’s The Buyer

This car is for you if:

  • You buy knock-off Rolexes from downtown sidewalk vendors.
  • You appreciate getting a lot of “stuff” for the money, and are not overly concerned with long-term residual value or comprehensive quality.
  • You will revel in explaining your purchase to your neighbors, who might not be aware that Hyundai (and its vassal Kia) have caught up with Detroit and the lower echelon of Japanese carmakers.

This car is not for you if:

  • You appreciate the superior build quality of the best Japanese car companies (e.g., Honda, Subaru and Toyota).
  • You can’t get on the Hyundai bandwagon, and embrace a company with an evolving image in the marketplace.
  • When chatting with the neighbors, you don’t want to explain or defend any purchase.

Alternatives To Consider

  • Toyota Camry XLE. When you get in this car, you know why it has dominated the market for more than a decade. Though it holds no appeal for enthusiast magazine writers because it is compromised towards comfort, that’s exactly why it remains the benchmark. The engine is silky smooth, the six-speed automatic “learns” your driving style over time (an ECU tracks how you drive) to smooth out shift action, the seating is comfortable front and rear, and the thrifting of this car has been nowhere near as obnoxious as in the Honda Accord. Thanks to the unwarranted Obama attacks on Toyota, the financing deals are pretty good. The top-line Camry XLE with engine and transmission comparable to Sonata is about $950 than the Sonata, but you get a Toyota.
  • Honda Accord EX. Comparably equipped, it’s LESS than the Sonata, and it’s a Honda. Hmmmmm. OK, Accord is another car with Bangle-derivative exterior design. We’ve criticized Honda for its blatant cutting of corners—the farther you get from the driver’s seat, the cheaper the car becomes. Though Honda’s small-displacement fours are arguably the best in the US, their larger four-cylinder is noticeably rougher and cobbier than the comparable Toyota motor. However, both Honda and Toyota engines are markedly superior to the Hyundai engine.  Hondas feel “sportier” because the front suspension is right on the edge of too harsh, but this makes the car seem more responsive than the softly sprung Hyundai.
  • Ford Fusion SEL. If Bob Lutz and his various co-conspirators at GM product development over the past eight years had tried a little harder, the Malibu might have turned out as well as the Fusion. Admittedly, Malibu is pretty good, standing out for its steering and handling, an area where the Sonata falls on its face. But Fusion is the safer bet if you want to be a patriot and buy American.  The four-cylinder Fusion SEL model is about $500 less than the Hyundai, and it’s much, much better looking. Thanks to the refreshing change brought by a CEO who is an accomplished engineer, Ford is also turning out far sharper products than in recent decades.
  • VW Jetta. It’s German. Compared to anything Korean, it’s better-built, has original thinking, has far superior suspension and steering with resulting vastly superior driving experience, it’s an example of clean industrial design, and you don’t have to defend the purchase. Like the Fusion, much shorter in the wheelbase than the 110-inches of the Sonata bit smaller and thus less family-oriented, but also less costly. VW has evolving quality—the hope is the Porsche executives being drawn over to the VW side can bring with them the lessons of the Toyota Production System that Porsche has followed for nearly a decade. A VW is still superior to anything from the Koreans. Also, you can get the TDI Clean Diesel version for about the same price as the Hyundai, and get far, far better fuel mileage. The TDI is definitely the coolest model in the Jetta lineup.

HYUNDAI WAS PEDDLING EXCELS in the mid-Eighties when I entered the car magazine business. The only thing on the road worse than a Hyundai was a Yugo, or perhaps a Mitsubishi, from which Hyundais were derived. In the Eighties and Nineties, you had to be a halfwit to buy a Hyundai. Forgettable products like the S-Coupe and early Tiburons didn’t change matters. Ten years ago while working at an ill-fated dot.com, I drove a Tiburon and couldn’t believe how horrible the steering was—at the time I made the comment that my uncle’s Model T speedster had superior steering.

Forward 25 years from that first Excel, with decades of help from Porsche Engineering and Group Lotus, plus various partnerships with companies like DaimlerChrysler (for the current 2.4-liter GEMMA engine), and Hyundai is no longer a joke. In short, the cars are worth inclusion on the comparison shopping list.

Though a week spent with a Sonata was proof enough that Hyundai is NOT a top tier automaker yet, in spite of what some journalists might think, busy to curry favor, the issues holding them back can (and should) be fixed very easily. We know GM is most terrified of Hyundai, as should be the other two Detroit companies, which have had variable quality over the past few decades. Hyundai is poised to eat Detroit’s lunch—if it can step up. With a more focused production quality system, Hyundai might reach parity with the best of the Japanese, but that’s a much longer haul than the Koreans recognize.

My perception of Hyundai will be forever tainted by their first 15 to 20 years of shoddy products foisted on America. But a new generation of buyers might not hold the same negative perceptions, and they are up for grabs. With Gen Y and the Millennials entering adult life and earning money for themselves, they represent the best chance for any company ready to compete. Not surprisingly, Hyundai wants on that express train to global success, and has followed a program of fast model redesigns (each generation lasts no more than four years) to churn the market and keep things fresh. And each generation of Hyundai is superior to the previous generation.

Engine, Transmission, Drivetrain

Hyundai Motor America is filled with former Detroit guys. The former Detroit engineer who handles powertrain development did an exceptional job with the Hyundai 2.4-liter, an engine developed in partnership with DaimlerChrysler. The engine is a bit rough, with a loping, loose character, but the calibration is pretty good. The six-speed transmission will hold revs nearly to redline, and then deliver well-damped yet crisp shifts. The Tiptronic shifter works OK, though the car’s suspension and steering are so sloppy that one is not inspired to become more involved in the driving process by bumping the shifter around. The only reason to use the Tip shifter is to engage a lower ratio to get more consistent revs when climbing a mountain road, or get more engine braking when working down a steep hill or mountain. Otherwise, why bother with it? This is not an engaging car—Sonata is a family tool, not a sports sedan.

We did not find the engine as refined, quiet or turbine-like as a comparable Honda or Toyota, but GM and Chrysler (much of the Fiat engineering that’s coming here as “Chryslers” is derived from GM/Opel/Saab joint-venture work of the past decade) and the lesser Japanese ought to be concerned. If the Koreans continue to partner with the right folks, as they did with DaimlerChrysler to develop this engine, they can potentially surpass GM and Fiat-Chrysler.

To pull around a family sedan or a CUV, Hyundai’s 2.4-liter is far better than adequate. If that sounds like damning with faint praise, it’s only because engines for this segment tend to lack character. They serve a purpose, and are meant to be durable family servants. The DaimlerChrysler/Hyundai engine in the Sonata should serve well for years, and provide decent gas mileage.

Suspension, Steering, Brakes

Steering and suspension? Thisis where the Koreans really fall on their faces, flat. Most buyers won’t know the difference when toddling around town, but this is point of pride for an engineering company.

First, the steering. It’s nicely weighted, with a hefty feel that will appeal to males and more aggressive females. OK, great. But that 1961 Dion classic sums it up: They call me the wanderer. When you’re forced to make corrections around a gentle bend on a freeway, the steering and relevant suspension geometry is junk. Oddly, it CAN take a decent set in some corners, but even then, you might find yourself making at least one correction. Worst of it is the constant meandering, which speaks to a lack of caster and self-centering. Ten years ago I adopted a description for this, after driving an early Kia Rio that felt like it was built from leftover parts, with no calibration work: shopping cart steering. The Sonata is not as bad as a ten-year-old Kia Rio, but it sure isn’t a Porsche. And much as many, including myself, have criticized some Toyotas of the past decade for uninvolved steering, Hyundai would be lucky if the Sonata steered like an old Toyota Echo. My ‘49 Cadillac does a better job of taking a set in a corner. Steering of this low quality is disgraceful. Hyundai, you get low marks: D-.

Suspension tuning? The ride is not bad at all when cruising at 65-70 mph on a Southern California freeway. Most buyers will like it. The springing is relatively soft and when the car is NOT being pushed hard, it delivers a pleasant, smooth ride. Excellent if you never do more than visit the grocery store or drive a few miles to work.

I took the Sonata over a favorite road in my neighborhood that runs between water channels and over an active oil and natural gas field. Thanks to soft earth and gas pressure, the road is truly a roller coaster, nearly as good as some of the whoop-dee-doos I used to drive across at the Dearborn Proving Grounds. Put the Sonata over this road at reasonable speeds and you’re forced to conclude the Koreans know nothing about suspension set-up, and particularly how jounce and rebound in shock absorbers are used to control body motions over bumps or when cornering. On two of the whoops, the rear suspension lost its way and the rear end was literally gyrating to the right, inspiring little confidence. Put a couple of big, fat guys in the back seat and the handling could really get interesting. Our Editor Sawyer found this to be the case when he attended the original press introduction of the Sonata. Boomps-a-daisy over larger rolls and bumps in the road.

A good team of engineers can fix such horrific dynamics, and Hyundai should buy in the American or European talent needed. That team of engineers should spend a fair amount of time tuning the shock absorbers. Of course, that effort would be mostly pointless unless competent engineers rework the front suspension geometry to cure the serious flaws of the steering system.

In short, Hyundai has figured out how to copy the leaders, but they don’t understand the fine details. Perhaps good enough for grandma, but not for a family that travels to mountain camp grounds. And certainly not as rewarding to steer as either a Malibu, or a Honda Accord.

Body, Design, Quality

Sonata’s exterior design is a synthetic blend of Lexus ES350, 3-series, and C-class with a sprits of who-knows-what to complete the cocktail. That said, the styling is nothing if not bold, the fenderline spearing into the shoulder and running strongly right into the top of the taillight. From the side and rear the Sonata has an aggressive, sculptural look. Lexus ES-derived headlights combined with the mouthy grille give the Sonata a distinctive if droopy face. In short, Sonata is a blatant knockoff of the Lexus ES350, and likely won’t age so well.

Body build is very good. As Editor Sawyer would point out, the steel manufacturers ran a promotion on how to hem together a fine steel body, in hopes of increasing business and keeping the industry from shifting to more use of alloy. Right down to the means of putting the pieces together, Hyundai picked up the methods the steel industry mapped out, most blatantly. The body is pretty well put together, but it did suffer odd tremors over certain road surfaces, as the suspension movements were communicated into the body structure. Hyundai has put together a pretty good body structure, but they are no match yet for Honda or Toyota—or VW, whose bodies in most cases have that typically German billet feel. Hyundai? Not so much. They need to spend more time in the “tube” figuring out the weak points of the structure. If they can’t bend the metal properly, they can at least add lightweight braces to help quell the often-unpleasant vibrations and tremors. As with the steering and suspension, close but not top tier.

Interior, Ergonomics

The closer you get to the driver’s seat, the more Hyundai invests in the quality of the materials. Again, damning with faint praise.

The Raspberry Beret purple leather of our test car probably only sells well in certain neighborhoods most of us would prefer to avoid. I found it downright hideous. But in black or tan leather? This would be a very appealing interior. Also, with a 110-in. wheelbase, the Sonata delivers a whole lot of interior room for the money. Here, Hyundai is cleverly splitting the market, offering the sort of room you get from a Passat, Avalon, or other super-sized family sedan, but at the cost of a conventional family sedan. Very clever product planning.

Hyundai executives proclaim their nascent leadership in automotive engineering and design. I don’t see it. Interior features are all copycat. For AC and ventilation controls, cue up Volvo “mode man.” For audio/video/navigation, the Koreans cribbed Infiniti. For gauges, Infiniti again, with a dash of Ford Taurus. Shifter? Cue up BMW’s current dual-clutch shifter. A bit pathetic for a company that contends it will soon lead the world. And the materials are a mish-mash, with shiny black plastic and bright trim for Mode Man and the shifter, and soft-touch black matte for the other buttons. Oh, and the Infiniti knock-off AVN control is executed in a dull alloy, which stands in glaring contrast with the Mode Man trim, which would do well on a child’s toy car. Al lthe appeal of a Korean-made LG washer/dryer set.

Major pieces of the dash lined up pretty well, an impressive advance for Hyundai. But the materials are an odd mix of soft touch and hard. The hard materials also had, hmm, interesting graining. Having just taken a look at the new Ford Explorer, which has very nice soft-touch material all around the driver and front passenger, with beautiful detailing and design, this Hyundai mash-up is pretty pathetic. This is not leadership. This is cribbing.

And here’s the best measure of how the thinking doesn’t go all the way through the product, a clear sign that leadership is a fair piece down the road. Cruise control buttons are placed on the steering wheel, just like on a Detroit car. But to make the cruise work, boy, you have to press awfully hard, so hard it can aggravate your case of Blackberry Thumb. Again, the buttons and materials look great on the surface, but the underlying quality is not there. If you want to run with the big dogs, you have to deliver quality on all levels, not just the surface. Nice buttons? Again, Honda and Toyota, and now I’d have to say some Fords, at least those introduced in the past year or so. Hyundai needs to think beyond mimicry and instead properly engineer everything, not just the surface layer.

Conclusion

To once again reach to vintage rock and roll, Hyundai is far from leader of the pack. That said, if Detroit executives are not dropping pucks in their pants, I’d be surprised. Even Honda and Toyota had better find the flaws in Hyundai vehicles and clearly communicate to consumers visiting their showrooms WHY a Honda or Toyota is superior to a Sonata. Hyundai only needs a measure of highly focused engineering work to at least run in the pack with Honda and Toyota. Of course, one set of recalls and Hyundai will collapse, knocked down to its old 1985 Excel image. Perhaps GM can ask Henry Waxman and Obama to carry out a smear campaign on Hyundai next. I love Hyundai’s ads, with that wry, warm voice of Jeff Bridges damn near making you think Hyundai is as American as apple pie and kimchi. Hiring Jeff Bridges was and is a masterstroke. What a glorious voice.

Many of the US enthusiast car magazines are fawning over Hyundai. Would I recommend this car over the established players? No. But I would suggest to some folks I know to test drive a Hyundai as part of a thorough investigation of the market. Both in major systems (suspension, steering) and in minor touchpoints (feel and accuracy of dials and buttons), Hyundai is far from parity with the industry’s best. My favored recommendations in family cars remain Honda, Subaru and Toyota, with VW held in reserve for friends who want something out of the ordinary.

Coda: Hyundai Goulash

I love archaic slang, strange words and phrases people used 20, 30, even 500 years ago. I also enjoy what one might call vintage comedy. Before he became Sheriff Andy Taylor on TV, Andy Griffith was a brilliant comedic storyteller. Jonathan Winters in the Fifties was as nuts as he ever was. And then there was Allan Sherman, a Jewish comedian I found far more palatable than the offensive Lenny Bruce, who I’ve never found terribly amusing. The week I spent with the Hyundai Sonata had me singing a variation of an Allan Sherman ditty I loved to listen to as a kid: Hungarian Goulash, which I’ve posted below. Why the connection? Because the Sonata is made the same way: a mash-up, or goulash, of design and engineering concepts blatantly copied from other companies. If Toyota and Honda are McDonalds, then Hyundai is at best Arby’s, or perhaps angling to be Burger King, the alternative. I hope the explanation is enough that you don’t find the posted video too random or obtuse. I enjoyed my week of Hyundai Goulash, but I would recommend other dishes before ordering any more of this off the menu. If you like this one, follow through to YouTube and enjoy a few more Allan Sherman classics, like Camp Granada, the Sherman song most people are familiar with.

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In Context: Cadillac CTS Sport Wagon Premium Collection

by Chris Sawyer on July 26, 2010

As the highest volume vehicle in its stable, the CTS is as critical to Cadillac’s success as the 3 Series is to BMW’s. Which is why, for the second generation, Cadillac has added both a coupe and station wagon to the lineup. Neither will sell in volumes as large as the sedan, but each is designed to extend the reach of the CTS to buyers who might otherwise be tempted by a different brand. Like the sedan, both the CTS wagon and coupe offer a pair of V6s, and eventually will be fitted with a supercharged 556-hp V8. However, the wagon has another task, appealing to those who think the Cadillac SRX crossover isn’t sporty or sleek enough for their needs.

Prime Numbers

  • Price: $48,665. As Tested: $52,040
  • Engine: All-aluminum dual overhead cam 3.6-liter V6 with cast-in-place bore liners, direct injection, variable valve timing.
  • Horsepower: 304 @ 6,700 rpm
  • Torque: 273 @ 5,200 rpm
  • Drivetrain: Front-engine/Rear-drive (AWD optional)
  • Suspension, F/R: Short and long arm with aluminum upper and lower control arms, hydraulic bushings, anti-roll bar/Subframe-mounted multi-link independent, anti-roll bar.
  • Length: 191.6-in.
  • Width: 72.5-in.
  • Height: 58.2-in.
  • Wheelbase: 113.4-in.
  • Weight: 3,905-lb.

Who’s The Buyer?

This car is for you if:

  1. You have been looking for an American performance sedan, but need a bit more carrying capacity and utility for your Mad Men lifestyle.
  2. The only thing that kept you from buying the CTS sedan was its intriguing design lacks the overall cohesion found on the wagon.
  3. Tired of the German mainstays of the market, you want something different, and won’t buy “name” brands that offer less for more.

This car is NOT for you if:

  1. You believe that Cadillac’s “performance package” should include the available Recaro sport seats as standard equipment.
  2. The little details are as important, if not more important, than the overall design concept.
  3. Whenever you think of “sport wagons” your mind immediately plays Deutschland Über Alles.

Alternatives To Consider:

  • Audi A6 Avant: Like the CTS, the A6 Avant is more an automotive backpack than a true wagon, more concerned with styling than function. Prices start at $53,310, but the Audi comes standard with quattro all-wheel-drive, a 300 hp/310 lb-ft direct injection V6, and one of the most luxurious and highest quality interiors in the industry. But, like its German competitors, the Audi charges a premium price of entry, then dings you each time you want to add more.
  • BMW 535i Gran Turismo: The 5 Series wagon is no longer sold in the US. In its place, BMW has the Gran Turismo, a vehicle that tries to walk the line between sedan and hatchback. Interior and exterior dimensions are quite close the CTS, but the Gran Turismo starts at an eye-watering $56,000. Its automatic transmission has eight forward speeds, an odd rear port that lets you choose if you want to open the back like a sedan or hatchback, a twin-turbo inline six with 300 hp and 300 lb-ft of torque, and fewer standard features than the CTS. You can easily option the rear-drive version of the 5 Series GT to almost $70,000.
  • Mercedes E350 4MATIC Wagon: Dimensionally the E350 wagon is fractions of an inch larger than the Cadillac, and more expensive. At $56,200 (an AWD CTS Wagon Premium Collection starts at $50,565), the E350 4MATIC has one more ratios in its transmission, standard all-wheel-drive, weighs 208 lb. more, and has 36 fewer horsepower. The Cadillac leads in terms of comfort and convenience items (navigation with 40 GB hard drive, keyless entry/start, heated and cooled front seats, etc.) for less money, but the Benz has the lead in standard safety features and that most important component of a luxury vehicle, image.

Not long after the introduction of the gen-one CTS, Cadillac and GM executives claimed the brand was back. It wasn’t. There were too many rough edges, too many substandard material choices and too little focus on a coherent theme and image to make that claim. With the second-generation CTS, Cadillac comes much closer to delivering. And while the Sport Wagon tends more toward stylish hatchback than true wagon, it faces established competition from Audi, BMW and Mercedes, and leaves one question to be answered. Is it up to the task?

Engine, Transmission, Drivetrain

The 3.6-liter V6 and six-speed automatic make a potent and fuel-efficient combination, with 34 more horsepower than the base 3.0-liter engine, and the same EPA fuel economy rating (18 mpg city/27 mpg highway). Plus, its 50 lb-ft advantage over the smaller engine means you don’t have to accelerate as hard or carry as low a gear to get from Point A to Point B quickly, especially when that torque is spread out over a wide and reasonably flat curve. In this instance, the powertrain conjures images of Cadillacs of old, capable of effortless acceleration with minimum fuss and bother. Drive it like you have a crate of eggs balanced on the roof, and the powertrain oozes the CTS away from stoplights, or into the passing lane.

Drop the hammer and it responds quickly, like a cat startled out of slumber. Felines may be the fastest mammals to go from a dead sleep to wide awake, but they do so with more gracefulness than the Cadillac. That’s because the transmission bangs off shifts in rapid-fire succession with a modicum of harshness its ancestors from Cadillac’s glory years (1930s to the mid 1960s) never would have allowed. This is the price of powertrain efficiency. Nevertheless, one hardly experiences this quite as forcefully with either the German or Japanese luxury brands.

The price of GM’s past sins, however, are much more readily apparent. Put the shift lever into manual mode (Why the extra step? Audi, for one, lets you use the paddles in either “drive” or “sport” mode.), and you can use the shift buttons on the back of the leather-clad steering wheel to choose up- or downshifts. If you want to, that is. Unlike competitors that provide metallic or even metal-look paddles that sit slightly above and behind the wheel, GM gives drivers large, slick, shiny plastic buttons hidden on the back of the steering wheel, as Mercedes did some years ago. And nothing says “quality” like parts that feel as though they have been through several cost-down meetings in order to save a few cents. Now that GM is flush with taxpayer cash, relieved of debt, and has its assembly costs under control, it might consider a more pleasing choice for the next-generation CTS. One that celebrates the fact it allows driver-directed shifts rather than hiding the fact.

Suspension, Steering, Brakes

The variable-assist rack-and-pinion power steering, on the other hand, has a nice weight and feel. It walks the line between luxury and sportiness well, undoubtedly helped by the fact that the assist is hydraulic and not electric. (The “buffering” effect of the hydraulic fluid combined with mechanical— i.e. analog—control means conventional hydraulic steering tends to feel more “natural” than most digitally controlled electric power steering units.) Another factor is the slightly front-biased weight distribution (51% front, 49% rear). It gives the front end a solid, planted feel without also feeling heavy.

Under most conditions the fully independent suspension does a nice job. Even with the optional 19-in. Summer Tire Performance Package, which includes 19-in. polished aluminum wheels, 19-in. summer-only tires, sport suspension system, steering wheel-mounted shift controls, performance cooling system and performance disc brakes, it is not overly harsh for a brand that is still more luxury than sport. However, enter a corner with a rough surface or a straight stretch where the roughness is not equally distributed side-to-side, and the rear end will start to oscillate in a circular motion. It’s like a dancer sticking out her tush and making circular motions—a motion both undignified and slightly unnerving. I never got the chance to see if this effect is reduced by adding either passengers or cargo, but I didn’t care. It shouldn’t do this in the first place. You have to ask: Did the suspension guys simply fall asleep or were they not paying attention at this point?

Braking is excellent, the CTS Sport Wagon pulling down straight and true, aided by a four-channel ABS system that gives a broad threshold before intervening. It’s a trait I’ve noticed in all of GM’s new models, and one for which the company’s brake engineers should be applauded. Both the front and rear discs are ventilated, with large 13.6-in. front discs clamped by twin-piston cast-iron calipers, and aluminum single-piston calipers grabbing the 13.4-in. rear discs.

Body, Design, Quality

CTS is blessed with a solid, quiet structure. Though I have no comparative numbers by which to judge, it feels nearly as strong as any of its European competitors, and thus a good platform on which to build. What it lacks is that unmistakable “carved from billet” feel the Germans have mastered in recent years, though it has heft and meatiness missing in some of the Asian luxury cars in this class. A good compromise.

The same can be said of the design, which carries over enough of Cadillac’s “Art & Science” design language to be readily recognizable, but not so much as to be a cartoon. When the original CTS hit the streets in 2002, it wore angular sheetmetal said to be inspired by the F-117 Nighthawk, and an instrument panel whose center stack resembled a tower computer. The reason being that GM concluded these were the things for which America was readily known. It was much more successful than the warmed over Opel-based Catera it replaced.

[A side note: Before Cadillac changed its naming convention, the CTS was to retain the Catera name. But, by adding the initials for “Touring Sedan” after the first initial of the previous generation’s name, it came up with CTS. The same sleight of hand gave us the STS (Seville) and DTS (Deville).]

Though the Sigma platform has been heavily revised, the second-gen CTS rides on the same 113.4-in wheelbase but is over an inch taller and two inches wider. Those dimensional changes gave designers the room in which to add curves to the facets, making the car more curvaceous, subtle and slick. The front end is bolder, making a more modern yet classical Cadillac statement, and the flanks are taut and muscular. Finally, Art & Science now shows a stylish coherence it originally lacked, much like Chris Bangle’s “flame surfacing” has evolved at BMW. And with the wagon, the CTS refines that further with a long curved roof and V-shaped rear deck that exorcise the awkward Stealth Fighter remnants found around the sedan’s rear deck. This is the most handsome CTS to date.

The design’s many character lines have the potential to be a fit-and-finish nightmare. Leave even one panel slightly misaligned, and the result is immediately noticeable. There were no mismatches on our test car. From the fascias to the doors to the power rear hatch, the CTS showed no signs of ill-fitting panels, paint mismatches or other quality lapses. On this front, GM and Cadillac are finally up to spec.

Interior, Ergonomics

Remember the slick plastic shifter buttons? They aren’t the only questionable materials found in the CTS. Despite a handsome “cut and sew” covering for the instrument panel’s upper section that adds depth, dimension and luxury to this expanse—it looks like a custom leather-covered dashtop and is made by the same people who supply Mercedes—someone at GM felt it was acceptable for the gauge cluster’s surround to be an injection-molded plastic piece with chrome trim. It reminds me of the liberal chrome trim on my sister-in-law’s 1959 Cadillac Series 62 Coupe, but in plastic, not steel. A better choice would have been to forego the surround completely, and opt for a cleaner, richer look more in keeping with the CTS’ competitive set. If Cadillac wishes to stick with the airplane theme, perhaps the next generation CTS will adopt the reconfigurable “glass cockpit” video screen technology shown in the XTS concept car (below), and found in modern war planes.

Similarly, the front seatbacks are fitted with hard plastic covers that wrap around the lower rear seatbacks, sound hollow when tapped and feel cheap. Granted, these probably were chosen to form the front wall of the cargo area when the rear seats are folded, but a soft-touch finish would help immensely. Or take a tip from Mercedes and inset the plastic into the seatback where it is less obvious.

Like many current GM seats the standard front buckets have short lower cushions that leave the thigh inadequately supported. Thankfully, Cadillac now lets Performance or Premium trim level buyers order the comfortably sporty Recaro seats found on the CTS-V. These are excellent seats, with proper support everywhere, especially the lower torso and legs. I can understand why it might not be standard on the Premium trim level, but shouldn’t they be standard on the Performance package? Editor Ewing argues, persuasively, that these seats may be a bit too aggressive for most buyers and cost more than the standard seats. Therefore, Cadillac made the right choice. That’s logical, but disregards the fact that the standard seats don’t offer the support they should. Perhaps a compromise is in order: Cadillac designers should visit a Volvo dealership to see how comfortable, supportive standard seating is done, and leave the Recaros on the option list.

Thankfully, the cargo area is well finished, with aluminum tie-down rails on either side of the floor, recessed flush with the carpet. Lift the floor board up and you’ll find a shallow water-resistant Styrofoam carrier finished with ribs and the Cadillac script. It limits road noise transmitted through the cargo area. No complaints here, except that the attention to detail on this small item is greater than that shown on items like the gauge cluster bezel and front seatbacks. Strange.

Audio, Video, Navigation

Everything that I can say here about the CTS’ navigation system has already been said in our review of the Cadillac SRX crossover. The 8.0-in. screen is crisp and clear, and doubles as a monitor for the rearview camera, as well as a display for the audio and climate control systems. It is easy to use, but plagued by a number of lookalike buttons, though I suspect within a few weeks one would grow familiar with them. XM NavTraffic lets you access real-time traffic and weather information for as long as you keep your subscription payments current. (The first three months are free.) It’s a big help in cities like New York, Los Angeles and Atlanta where traffic often is a nightmare. As if that wasn’t enough, the CTS Sport Wagon comes standard with a one-year subscription to OnStar. In addition to its other features, it offers turn-by-turn navigation as well, which seems more than a bit redundant, though we live in a culture where too much is just right.

The Bose audio system features 5.1 surround sound, a 40 gigabyte hard drive, Bluetooth phone connectivity and iPod compatibility. The system can rattle the windows, has great separation, but lacks ultimate crispness and clarity. Thankfully, the unit can be activated through the steering wheel-mounted controls, and owners won’t have the problem I did of rifling through presets that didn’t match my taste. Changing them would have taken too much effort, a fault common to many uplevel audio units, and a reason that the first automaker to allow a quick “drag and drop” on-screen preset menu will win many fans.

Conclusion

The Cadillac CTS Sport Wagon is a surprising entry in the luxury market. It offers more equipment for less money than most of its competition, and has a decidedly American take on what makes a sports luxury vehicle. It is not, however, completely formed. There are just enough shortcomings to suggest that GM had its eyes focused on the bottom line cost of this platform, not on providing the best materials, best responses or best experience. Some of that stems from GM’s past troubles, and should be vanquished as it competes on an equal financial footing in the future. However, other shortfalls suggest a lack of imagination or reach, and failure to iron out differences that can make the combination of “performance” and “luxury” troublesome. The CTS Sport Wagon is one of the finest and most capable sport wagons available, and is worthy of a test drive and consideration. But, with a little more work, it could have been more than a strong contender. It could have been the king.

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