C. Van Tune is a former Editor-in-Chief of Motor Trend.

I received an email today that I thought you’d be interested in. It came from the PR department of the upcoming Los Angeles Auto Show, proudly noting how many “green cars” would be on display. No other vehicles were noted, just a long list of save-the-planet people movers: Seventy-one in all.

Ugh.

Times are rapidly changing for the worse in the car business if you’re a lover of gasoline-ignited horsepower. The days are numbered for today’s traditional performance cars, regardless of nameplate. The sobering slap across our faces is that all car companies (including even Ferrari and Porsche) are working on hybrid, fuel cell, and/or full-electric versions in order to meet the upcoming more stringent government mpg and emissions requirements. And regardless of the feel-good spin put on such cars by their giddy purveyors, the cold, hard truth is that driving as we know it will forever change.

Like Ewing has experienced, I’ve driven several full-electric “performance” cars. But while they can accelerate quickly, they simply have no soul. No muscular sounds of the engine revving, no rumbling exhaust note, no burnouts, no power-shifting of gears. Just a limp-wristed whirring of the electric motor(s) as the car is propelled. Sure, it may go 0-60 mph in five seconds, but the experience isn’t anything like you’re accustomed. I’m guessing it’s like the difference between sex with a blow-up doll versus the real thing. Only it’s worse than that. It’s more like the government has outlawed sex with real women and said you can only do it with a gov’t-approved blow-up doll from now on. They’ve decided it’s better for the planet that way. And, no, your opinion doesn’t matter.

Factoring in all of the above, I believe that 2012 (or possibly 2013) will become the lasting high-water mark for the worldwide roster of great performance cars. Sort of like 1970 was the pinnacle of the original muscle car era. But I’m also concerned that the game-changing impact of what’s happening today won’t be recognized by the public until it’s too late.

My advice: If you want to own a brand-new gasoline-powered performance vehicle, buy it now. I believe that the values of many of today’s most powerful cars will climb after they’re gone from production. Those machines will truly be the last of their lineages, as subsequent new models will become morphed into alternate-fuel-powered, amorphous, androgynous drones. To modify the old gun-owners’ maxim: The government will take my Ferrari 458 Italia when they pry it from my cold, dead fingers. Yes, even if gasoline has been outlawed and I can’t drive it. Hell, if that’s the case, then bury me in it.

Just a couple of years ago, the highlight of any auto show would’ve been performance cars, luxury vehicles and big, powerful trucks and their SUV cousins. For 2012, it’s the following list of High Mileage and Green-Tech Vehicles.

This is our future, like it or not. And it will only get worse for devotees of dinosaur-fueled performance cars like you and me.

40-plus MPG
Audi A3 TDI (clean diesel)
Chevrolet Cruze Eco
Chevrolet Sonic
Ford Focus SFE
Ford Fiesta SFE
Honda Civic GX
Honda Civic HF
Hyundai Accent
Hyundai Elantra
Hyundai Veloster
Kia Rio (2012)
Mazda3 SKYACTIV (2012)
Smart ForTwo
Volkswagen Jetta TDI (clean diesel)
Volkswagen Jetta SportWagon TDI (clean diesel)
Volkswagen Passat TDI (clean diesel)
Volkswagen Golf TDI (clean diesel)

Hybrids and Plug-in hybrids
BMW i8 Concept
BMW ActiveHybrid 7
BMW ActiveHybrid X6
Buick LaCrosse eAssist
Buick Regal eAssist
Cadillac Ciel concept
Cadillac Escalade Hybrid
Chevrolet Malibu Eco
Chevrolet Tahoe Hybrid
Chevrolet Volt
Ford C-MAX Energi plug-in hybrid
Ford Fusion Hybrid
Fisker Karma
Fisker Surf
GMC Yukon Hybrid
GMC Yukon Denali Hybrid
Honda CR-Z Sport Hybrid Coupe
Honda Civic Hybrid
Honda Insight
Honda Plug-in Hybrid concept
Hyundai Sonata Hybrid
Infiniti M35 Hybrid
KIA Optima Hybrid
Lincoln MKZ Hybrid
Lexus CT 200h
Lexus GS 450h

Lexus LS 600h L
Lexus RX 450h
Porsche Cayenne S Hybrid
Porsche Panamera S Hybrid
Toyota Camry Hybrid
Toyota Highlander Hybrid
Toyota Prius
Toyota Prius v
Toyota Prius Plug-in Hybrid
Volkswagen Touareg Hybrid

Clean Diesel Vehicles
Audi A3 TDI
Audi Q7 TDI
BMW 335d Sedan
Mercedes-Benz S350 BlueTEC
Volkswagen Jetta TDI
Volkswagen Jetta SportWagen TDI
Volkswagen Passat TDI
Volkswagen Golf TDI

Electric Vehicles
BMW i3 Concept
CODA Sedan
Ford Focus BEV prototype
Fiat 500 EV
Mitsubishi i
Nissan LEAF
Smart ForTwo
Toyota RAV4
DOK-ING XD

Hydrogen/Hydrogen Fuel Cell
Honda FCX Clarity

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

– Dylan Thomas

I was reading Motor Trend Classic and came across a Bob Lutz profile scribed by a former GM guy. Thanks to Flipboard, I’ve seen all manner of Lutzian wisdom floating around the Internet, like Bob’s tale about approval process for the Cadillac Christmas card, an example of the bureaucracy at GM—a bureaucracy that Lutz should have aggressively chopped down in his eight years of partnership with Rick Wagoner.

Lutz is currently promoting his new book, Cars Guys Vs. Bean Counters: The Battle for the Soul of American Business, a book meant to redefine Bob’s legacy of pointless niche cars and near-total lack of accomplishment at GM. Bob provided “air cover” at Chrysler for Tom Gale and Francois Castaing, allowing the always-struggling company to make progress for a few years, but at GM Lutz failed.

Here’s a link to another Lutzian piece, in which Bob explains how the evil bureaucracy did in GM. Thanks for stating the obvious and passing it off as insight and wisdom, Bob. We never would have guessed that GM is a bloated bureaucracy filled with blowhards. Sadly, it still is, with a political appointee as CEO. Lutz is fortunate that so many of the online journalists simply post rehashed press releases, allowing companies and guys like Bob to sell their interpretation of reality.

Long story short, Lutz and Wagoner share most of the blame for putting GM in so vulnerable a position that a US president could illegally seize private property and hand ownership to the UAW and bankers. The GM bond holders got the shaft, the price they paid for allowing Lutz and Wagoner to fiddle while GM spiraled out of control.

Admittedly, GM’s rot started in the late Sixties when the company stopped inventing and leading. They gave up on the Corvair, including a four-cylinder variant of the drivetrain that could have been used to power a front-drive car. GM stopped thinking. Like a big tree, GM took a long time to die. But Lutz and Wagoner were like copper spikes driven into that tree, killing it dead. Lutz knew the job was dangerous when he took it, so he has no room to whine about being the last Vice-Chairman before collapse. Lutz gladly took the big paychecks.

Simple fact: Lutz had eight years to turn GM around, make it grow green again. What did he do? What he has always done: bluster while championing nearly profitless niche cars that appeal to the mostly irrelevant enthusiast press.

GM was on the verge of extinction before Bob saw fit to create an Opel-derived Chevy Malibu that is perhaps the fifth or sixth best family sedan in the US. Drive a Malibu back-to-back with Accord, Camry, Altima, the flawed but elegant Mazda6, and even the Fusion and you can guess where Malibu ranks: dead last. I wouldn’t recommend this car to anyone. Camry and Accord come first, and I have a soft spot for the Mazda6 (it needs calibration work, but it sure is pretty).

Lutz was not focused on the real business of building cars for profit. He seemed more concerned with the “car guy” carnival act. We can rattle off examples. Here goes. You can skip to the end if you like. My point has already been made.

Corvettes

Let’s start with a sacred cow among “enthusiasts” and “car guys”: the Corvette ZR-1. GM already had the Z06, a magnificent specimen with a seven-liter small block that delivers a uniquely American high-performance experience. Z06 is every bit as valid as sports car from Italy, Germany or Japan. It’s a very American answer: simple, robust, tough, making massive horsepower through displacement, building on half-century-old proven engineering themes. And with natural aspiration, there’s at least a tenuous link between Z06 and the highly successful Le Mans Corvettes.

Lutz’s old PR guy, Steve Harris, who served Lutz at Chrysler and GM, loaned me a Z06 for a week-long test a few years ago, a big deal considering several journalists at the time were seeing red mist and crashing them. Fantastic car, that Z06. I had driven previous iterations of the Z06 with a bit over 400 horsepower, but 505 horsepower proved just about right. Exhausting to drive for anything length of time due to fairly intense NVH generated by tires, suspension, and the engine, but the Z06 was and is the real deal. I took a girlfriend’s father out for a round of burnouts and power slides, much to his delight, and took a long weekend trip in the car. Not a great touring car, but a fabulous sprinter. Everyone who had a ride in the Z06 was impressed, if a bit frazzled.

But the Z06 Lutz inherited wasn’t enough to pump Bob’s ego. No, he had to build a second ultra-high-performance Corvette to prove his enthusiast bones. Why? Why spend that money when every division of GM was saddled with hopelessly mediocre cars, and GM’s only profit center was body-on-frame trucks and SUVs?

The other mistake here? Lutz wasted cash that could have been invested in updates to the existing Corvette, which has a horrible man-machine relationship. Drive a mid-engine Porsche or Ferrari and you can practically feel the corners of the car through the palms of your hands. Same with a BMW. But Corvette? You’re sunk down in it, high cowl, long snout, amorphous blob of a rear end, and it takes a lot of miles to understand where the corners are.

At the least, GM could have invested the money creating a much higher quality interior for the Corvette, with better materials—and better seat padding to lessen the vibrations reaching the driver and passenger. And perhaps quieted down the rear suspension so a Corvette doesn’t pound driver and passenger into submission in less than an hour. GM could have invested in body panels to give Z06 a visually distinct appearance. Instead, Lutz pissed away budget on a supercharged V8 and carbon body panels that don’t really make the ZR-1 look much different, and result in a car that is, yes, faster, but to what purpose?

Waste of cash, Bob.

And I say that in spite of the fact I love the very existence of the ZR-1, as does every other red-blooded American. But wrong time, wrong place to spend the money, even if the actual investment was not significant. I guess Bob figured he was recreating the “magic” of that early Viper, which was among the most primitive and miserable sports cars ever made, and did not become worthy until it was raced at Le Mans and the aluminum suspension was developed. If the ZR-1 had announced the arrival of a new generation of exceptional GM cars and CUVs, OK. But it did not.

Solstice

Building a second overpowered Corvette wasn’t enough, so Lutz wasted time and money on the Pontiac Solstice, a poorly packaged sports car that barely sold, even when reskinned for Saturn. Smoke and mirrors.

Unlike Miata, which can accommodate big oafs like Bob and me, the Solstice was only suitable for little fellas. When I drove an early Solstice press car, my knees were pressed into the lower dashboard. I’m over six two, which is not uncommon among American males raised on Wonderbread. You’re a tall, lanky fella yourself, Bob. You didn’t notice this fundamental ergonomic problem?

Mazda rightly copied the folding top design of the Fiat 124 Spyder of the late Sixties and early Seventies. With one hand, a woman or wimpy guy can pull a Miata’s top up in a single smooth action, executed in seconds. Mazda refined an Italian concept into high art.

Lutz got his Motorama Jones all ginned up, and allowed the Solstice team to create one of the most incredibly stupid convertible tops of all time, with a back window that reminds of the side curtains on a Fifties English roadster, or a pup tent used by Amudsen on his Antarctic sojourns. As I recall, the process goes like this: unlatch the clamshell, unlatch the top clamps, get out, stand by the rear wheel arch and shove the top into the hold, reach up to grab the clam shell and push it down, climb in and buckle up. Uh huh. Watch the video posted here, from some guy arguing that the top is just swell. In a sudden rain storm, putting the top up on a Solstice would leave anyone soaked. It’s stupid.

Solstice felt cheap inside and out—because it was cheap. Miatas have fairly nice interiors, with good materials and fairly high build quality.

No matter the efforts of Heinricy and others to give Solstice a road racing and drifting pedigree, no one considered Solstice a worthy sports car. The GM Ecotech lump had all the charm of a tractor motor, though over the years Opel and GM have developed this four-cylinder—it no longer sounds like it’s ready to grenade at high revs. I readily acknowledge that accomplishment. But too little, too late for Solstice.

And Bob? A sports car is not supposed to shift like a ’49 Ford. Sorry, dude, but the Solstice shift action left much to be desired. The Miata remains the benchmark for small-displacement sports cars that are easily afforded by anyone in the US, even if Miatas are favored by mid-life crisis females, gays and old duffers who fondly remember their MGAs and Triumph TR4s. Miatas have always been lithe, nimble and balanced, with a perfect “snick-snick” shifter and a motor that’s reasonably smooth. Solstice could make a Healey 100-4 seem refined.

You invested way too much money in vehicle architecture that did not readily lend itself to the creation of other niche vehicles, and thus it was hard to spread the cost around. But imagine if you’d had the gumption to go ahead with that little rear-wheel-drive Nomad roughly based on the Solstice architecture. You would have been years ahead of the curve with a low-cost rear-drive sedan and wagon. GM would have looked cool—a tough job, making GM look cool. But Bob, you let the UAW dictate production of that vehicle. Big mistake. Amazing to think you are always playing the tough guy.

Cadillac

I recall sitting with another of Lutz’s lieutenants, who proclaimed that he “wasn’t worried about Cadillac” the summer of 2001.

I wouldn’t recommend a CTS over the BMW 3-series (the benchmark), Lexus IS350 or a Mercedes C-class. Nice enough car, a handsome car in second-generation form. Lutz gets high marks for creating a rear-drive platform, but CTS doesn’t sell at a price advantage and it does nothing as well or better than the competition. Why would a consumer settle for fourth or fifth best if it costs the same as a BMW, Lexus, Audi or Mercedes? Can Lutz really blame it all on the bean counters?

I do like the CTS sport wagon. I only wish the car were more completely evolved, with a better engine and a more complete feel.

Then, to once again prove his enthusiast bones, Lutz put a ZR-1-derived engine in the CTS (not quite the same engine, but related). Great advertising and marketing expenditure if the press is measured against cost of advertising—and such PR praise is considered more valuable than a straight-up media buy. Nissan’s GT-R is a marketing exercise, not a profit center, so we can make an argument in favor of the CTS-V.

But Lutz once again forgot that a car company must build cars people can live with and afford. When it comes down to it, I’d pick an M3 or IS-F over a Cadillac CTS-V. So even on Cadillac’s niche efforts, Lutz failed.

Need I bring up STS? Another great idea, but Lutz didn’t push far enough, didn’t set the bar high enough. I sincerely hoped this car would have been a true 5-series competitor, but it was not.

Lucky for Bob the body-on-frame Escalades drive profit.

Volt

And then came Volt. Lutz chattered about a “moon shot program” for GM, but Volt turned out to be a Plug-In Prius with a few tweaks and an unproven battery pack. Admittedly, the transmission system works very well—very smooth. Hearty congratulations to the engineers who developed it. It might sell for awhile in Santa Monica and Malibu.

If ever there were a car to make a Prius v look extra-sexy, damn, it’s the Volt, which is a typical GM design: hackneyed, trashy and candied up all at the same time. Volt’s back seat is cramped and miserable, a killer failing in a family sedan.

Several of my friends are retired “enthusiast” magazine editors. Like me, they help family and friends with new car purchases. You know what they tell people about Volt? Better to buy a Civic or Corolla, which are better made, get decent gas mileage, have roomier interiors, and MSRP is 50 percent less than Volt, depending on trim level and how you measure the true cost of a Volt. You can buy a pair of Corollas or Civics for the cost of a Volt, and they’re superior cars. The difference in fuel/energy savings is not enough to push people into a Volt.

Oh, Bob, the CEO of a rival car company figures Volt is more like a $50,000 car. So even with that Obama credit to lower the price, should Volt be considered a success if GM is also potentially underwriting the cost to the tune of $8-10,000? This is supposed to be the salvation of GM and Detroit? One can argue that pushing the technology out there is most important, with development to improve over each generation of the Volt, eventually bringing costs down. That’s how Prius evolved in the market.

But the jury is still out on Volt. Honestly? I hope it succeeds in later evolutions, because it’s an interesting concept, just not ready for prime time. The early adopters, who are probably High Priest Greenies, seem to like the car. But unless it gets dramatically better as a real car, I won’t recommend it. I’ll leave it to Hollywood to love the Volt.

Buick

When the Buick Lucerne arrived, there were trumpets and fanfare to announce that this wasn’t really a “Lutz” Buick. How long did Lutz need to turn Buick around?

The Malibu-based Lacrosse is an obvious rip-off of the Lexus ES350. Is that car supposed to sway me? It’s handsome, typical of GM design at its best, but it’s a gussied up Malibu, and as previously stated, Malibu is not in the same universe with Accord, Camry, Altima, or even the flawed but beautiful Mazda6.

The only GM vehicle of the “Lutz” era I can point to and say, “That ain’t bad”? Buick Enclave, and it’s not so good that it blows away the alternatives. Design boss Ed Welburn did a great job on this product, arguably his best piece in production.

Measurables

Here’s the reason why Lutz should retire quietly from public life.

You’ve been measured, Bob. You know, measurables, that favorite of all MBAs. You have a Berkeley MBA, don’t you, Bob?

He was sent to Michigan during the Bush Administration. Lanky red-haired fella, a certain Jimmy Stewart presence, name of Mulally.

Mulally accomplished in less than two years what Lutz couldn’t do in the better part of a decade: he took the ship’s wheel and turned the tub around before it went over the falls. And boy, Ford was headed over the falls. (Rent the Clint Eastwood movie “White Hunter, Black Heart” and watch the riverboat scene for a perfect visual of Mulally’s accomplishment, turning the boat around just before the waterfall. I wish I could find that bit of film on youtube.)

Many a former colleague within Ford engineering has told me that Mulally was making all the right moves within months of his arrival. I regularly heard lines like, “You know, he’s actually firing all the guys who deserve a bullet in the head. Remember Mr. So and So? That jerk who helped destroy SVT? Yeah, Mulally invited him to take a cardboard box and clear out his desk.”

The guys on the inside reckon Mulally had identified and addressed the fundamental flaws within 18 months, though obviously getting the enterprise turned around is a work in progress. And instead of a government bailout, the company went to the Wall Street pawn brokers for a massive loan, gambling Ford’s very existence on a plan to save the company.

Unlike Lutz, who hired three stooges to validate his enthusiast credentials, Mulally tapped Derrick Kuzak, an engineer, to set the bar for product development. Ford shouldn’t puff its chest too much because they’re still not the best player on stage, but they’ve made excellent progress and are once again considered a worthy opponent. They just can’t slack off or they’ll be in trouble again, very soon.

On a recent family trip to Denver, we had no choice but a Chevy Impala rental car. Lutz should hold his head down in shame. Wearisome suspension and tire noise combined with a gutless, loud engine. And the gauges, lit in that familiar sickly GM blue-green, are the spiritual descendents of the gauges in a 1987 Corsica or Beretta. In contrast, a 2011 Taurus is smooth and quiet, with pretty darn good dynamic qualities. Handsome, with excellent interior materials, Taurus is as good a measuring stick as any.

Like most other Detroit executives, you’ve been measured, Bob, and found lacking.

Iacocca And The ABL Edict

When I was a mere lad, wet behind the ears, I met Lutz on a number of press trips. Lutz provided “air cover” for Tom Gale and Francois Castaing. I’m sure both those gentlemen will defend Lutz to high heaven, but let’s remember that Iacocca slogan: ABL, which meant Anyone But Lutz. That’s where CEO Eaton came from, the ABL edict.

I like Tom Gale, very much. The sort of older designer who mentors and guides furtive young minds. Sort of like older scientists who can mentor young minds that burn brightly.

And though Gale’s “cab forward” was a gimmick that led to a poor man-machine relationship in all those Nineties Chryslers, boy, they sure looked good and drove fairly well, thanks to Castaing.

More importantly, Tom Gale wanted Dodge Ram to echo the bold forms of the World War II era Dodge command car, the old war wagon. Ram sales went from a pathetic dribble to big profit. I worked for Lutz’s old pal from BMW, John Plant, who was head of Ford SVT early on. When that Ram turned up, he related one of his stories in a marketing meeting. A friend in Vermont, a dairy farmer as I recall, told John, “Fendahs, John. That Dodge has fendahs.” Yes, Tom Gale realized that a truck could also have a bit of style. Ram had fenders, and it sold.

Prowlers and Vipers do not make a volume car company, though in the case of Chrysler they provided some sizzle while Gale and Castaing made the most of the pieces they had. It was the Ram that saved Chrysler from that late Eighties and early Nineties dip, along with the minivan. You should have remembered that, Bob.

The End, Finito

Bob, you may think you led with style, chalking up a few niche cars that appeal to the feeble-minded of the enthusiast magazine and website world, but in fact you failed miserably at GM. Your performance has been disgraceful. Eight years of ego-flexing, and pandering to the “enthusiast” journalists of Detroit, who at all cost will spout your views and support you. You never should have been more than marketing manager for Corvette, Bob. You’re John Heinricy with more polish, better suits, and no engineering credentials. And Heinricy kept his mouth shut and got the job done.

In eight years you gave us the following:

• ZR-1 Corvette, which seems frivolous when parked next to a Z06 Corvette
• Pontiac Solstice, which is a pile of junk compared to a Miata
• Buick Lacrosse, which is nice, but a blatant rip-off of a Lexus ES350
• Cadillac CTS, which is a pretty good car and a good first step, but really isn’t as good as a BMW 3, Lexus IS, Audi A4 or Mercedes C-class. I love the CTS sport wagon
• Malibu, which has good dynamic qualities and the first GM four-cylinder in my experience that doesn’t sound like it will explode at revs over 4,000, but it is nowhere near as good as a Camry, Accord, Altima or Mazda6
• Camaro, which is enormous, has horrible ergonomics, mail-slot windows, and based on input I’ve received from folks racing them, has more than a few engineering “patches” under those glitzy body panels
• A Chevy small block V8 that has continued to evolve, with great results, but I’m not sure you really had much to do with that, Bob
• A jelly bean Pontiac GTO from Australia, which was a horrible car in most respects, and looked like a bloated Saturn. Good concept, but execution was terrible.

And by the way, Bob, you and Wagoner pushed GM into bankruptcy, you guys made GM easy prey for a president with Marxist tendencies. Your mistakes, your blundering left GM fatally weak, allowing the bankers in league with the president to chop up GM and hand out ownership to unions and the favored associates of the bankers, and strip the rightful owners of their due.

Bob, please don’t rage against the dying of the light. Just go gentle into that good night.

“It leaked oil. I got down on my hands and knees to smell it. It was like perfume.”      – Soichiro Honda

“Meanwhile, startling as it is that all visible evidence of invention should have been refined out of this instrument and that there should be delivered to us an object as natural as a pebble polished by the waves, it is equally wonderful that he who uses this instrument should be able to forget that it is a machine.” – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Wind, Sand and Stars

In his recent post about the Detroit auto show, Editor Sawyer did not mention the 2012 Honda Civic show properties. When asked why, he said that the Civics were not worthy of coverage. After considerable thought, I decided to sift the Honda site for photos and probe a bit. I’m forced to disagree with his conclusion. I am amused by Honda’s choice of venue to unveil this popular car, as the Civic is almost always among the nation’s top ten sellers and the denizens of Detroit are certainly no friends. Civic is the foundation of the Honda brand, no matter that Accord outsells it. Civic and its relatives, like the excellent CR-V, the Element, and the Fit, are the core of Honda, no matter the success of the Odyssey.

Though a chunky evolution of the well-pressed lines of the current Civic, the 2012 Civic is also smaller on the outside and bigger on the inside. As for appearance, Honda is not known for producing the most attractive cars. Remember the first generations of the Prelude? Woof. But loyal Honda customers don’t turn to the company for flashy design. They want quality, and that characteristic Seiko-like performance. No matter what GM/Opel or Fiat or even Ford of Europe produce, it’s going to be a long time before their small-displacement four-cylinders are anything like a Honda four. If Honda carries over the current powertrains—base, high-performance Si and the “green” CNG and Hybrid—and evolves those engines and transmissions mid-cycle (2014 model year), the Civic will remain among the top ten sellers, just like Toyota’s carefully evolved Corolla.

Honda has enough equity in the bank to offer a flub now and then, but from the looks of it, this Civic is not going to be one of them. Watch the videos posted below to comprehend the depth of this company’s past achievement, and promise for the future.

Sure, the Honda Crosstour looks like a pregnant Narwhal about to give birth, its tail whipping frantically to usher out the progeny. Crosstour is unattractive, and the interior is claustrophobic, that Narwhal shape greatly limiting rearward visibility and creating a cramped rear seat. Our own tech guru owns an Accord V6 and loves it, every bit as much as he loves his old BMWs and his Suzuki GSX-R. But he also laughs when I call the Crosstour the Narwhal.

Honda Ridgeline? Detroiters love to dump on this vehicle, but they can only see it through their own lens. It’s not meant to compete with Silverado and F-150, or Tundra. It’s a quirky pickup for Honda people. Yes, it has seriously stupid design mistakes, like a spare tire that would be trapped under your payload—if you got a flat while hauling dirt, you’d have to shovel plenty before changing the tire. Stupid. Ridgeline is designed for Honda people who want to pull a couple of watercraft to Lake Isabella for the weekend. Yes, it’s ugly. But it’s a play truck, not a work truck, a concept Detroiters cannot grasp.

And the biggest of Honda’s current flubs? The CR-Z, though Honda claims sales are doing OK. It’s uglier than a dung beetle, it’s nothing more than an Insight two-door, and the interior is so incredibly cheap I wonder what on earth Honda’s product planners were thinking. Look at the plastics inside. The backside of a cheap Chinese-made clock radio has more sex appeal and style than the inside of a Honda CR-Z, not to mention a Kia Forte Koup or Scion tC. This is not the insightful engineering and innovation one expects from the corporate descendent of Soichiro Honda. I’d still take it over a Chevy Volt because I know the fundamentals will have that Seiko feel and reliability, but it’s not terribly impressive. The CR-Z is a reminder that even Honda turns out an ugly baby now and then. Oooof.

The current Civic is quintessential Honda: crisp, clean, light, efficient, and looking both a bit conservative yet fresh at the same time. A freshly pressed suit from a conservative maker like Hart, Schaffner & Marx. Just like the good old days when Pininfarina sketched the Honda bodies. The current Civic Si, though hampered by signature peaky VTEC power, is an interesting car to drive quickly, though paying nearly $30,000 for the Mugen version is downright stupid and Honda should think carefully about how to evolve a performance sub-brand. Honda’s big-displacement engines lack for refinement, but the small-bore engine of the Civic is silky smooth. Man, they’re nice little motors. Transmission action is silky, too. Very nice.

I’ve spent a lot of time in the current Civic. Super-tight body structure. Clanky rear suspension—amazingly so, due to poorly thought-out damping and bushings. Brakes are OK, but pedal feel is calibrated for grandma, or really wimpy fellas. Steering has little to no feel. Put a Civic EX on an autocross course and you’ll enjoy plowing understeer at every turn, even when you work hard NOT to push the car and you steer with a very, very light hand, with delicate inputs.

When the 2012 Civic unveiled at the 2011 Detroit auto show is finally replaced, assuming a five-year product cadence that carries us into 2017, and assuming it’s an evolution of the current body shell, the basics of the Civic will be more than a decade old.

Civic’s extra-long product life tells you a few things: a decade-old Honda body structure will still be better than anything Opel’s cooking up for GM and most likely as good or better than anything Ford of Europe will create in the coming few years as Fiesta and Focus evolutions. It will certainly whip the beejesus out of any of Fiat’s small vehicles. Among volume producers, Honda and Toyota make the strongest, tightest body structures, and don’t let any Detroit or Korean blowhards tell you otherwise. BMW makes tight structures, too, like the MINI, and damn they’re starting to look like a “volume” manufacturer, but MINIs tend to be a bit heavy, and cost a whole lot. The same applies to BMWs, only more so. But luxury is another story.

Unlike Editor Sawyer, I’m not disappointed with the Civic Concept. My first real car after college was a 1984 Civic hatchback. Not a pretty car, but much beloved in Ewing Lore, nicknamed The Super Coop, my hommage to Super Chicken. The next? A Civic EX coupe purchased in 1996 while living in Michigan and working at Ford SVT, purchased as a form of protest against the crap Ford dealer that destroyed the engine of the Escort GT I had circa 1994-95. That 1996 Civic was shockingly quiet and refined compared to the rasty, loud, and rough Escort GT I bought as a sign of loyalty when first moving to Michigan. I have not forgotten the sense of exhilaration driving it home that first night, from Plymouth, Michigan, to Ann Arbor, taking great delight in the smooth shifter and engine, and an interior that was spooky quiet compared to the nasty Mazda-based Escort hatchback I had turned in. Hell, I could hear myself thinking. My girlfriend has the same 2001 Accord Coupe she bought after graduation from college, and it is beautifully made. Frankly, it’s better than the Hondas being sold now, with an interior every bit equal to the Mercedes of the time, and in some ways superior.

Like everyone else, Honda is stalling on introduction of a new Civic because the market has been so bad. Everyone in the car business is waiting and hoping for the economy to turn around before introducing cool new products. That’s most likely why they’re taking time to replace the current Civic.

The concluding verse in my Honda Civic love letter? Hell, I’m not even writing it. Randy Riggs, who once edited the sports car magazine I worked on for many years and who now ably edits Vintage Motorsport (a true work of art and certainly worth the price of admission), had a chance meeting with Soichiro Honda some years ago. Like me, Randy declares Soichiro a personal hero. Soichiro was the Japanese equivalent of Enzo Ferrari or Ettore Bugatti in many respects—he made gorgeous Grand Prix bikes and cars that whipped the Europeans on their home turf—yet also comparable in many regards to Henry Ford, a great industrialist. Imagine starting a company making little engines to clip onto bicycles, and about a decade later dominating the Europeans at the Isle of Man TT, and then entering Formula Grand Prix racing with a car of your own design and actually winning a race. The key? Honda is an engineering company specializing in transportation. Here is Randy’s description of that moment in time:

“I can’t remember the year (1973 or ‘74) and place where I met Mr. Honda, but it was at a motorcycle show or intro. Back then Honda encouraged idea projects from employees—I hope they still do. I was offered the chance to drive an employee’s conception of a personal people mover (think very early Segway), electric as I recall. Soichiro Honda was my passenger. It was an honor because he was one of my big heroes and through an interpreter Mr. Honda said, ‘Thank you very much. You are a very good pilot. I enjoyed very much the ride.’”

“I wish someone nearby had a camera. It was one of those moments in your life that happen out of the blue and for no particular reason other than being in the right place at the right time.”

(And no, there is not the least implication that Randy shares my opinions of the Narwhal or anything else posted here, guys.)

Though Honda’s car division is currently playing safe and thus not entirely fulfilling the innovative spirit of Soichiro—Honda needs to step up—I don’t agree with Editor Sawyer’s assessment of the upcoming Civic, and I’m not looking to see Honda fall from grace, supplanted by a revived Detroit. Not at all. I suspect next year you will still find the best-selling cars in America to be Toyota’s Camry and Corolla and Honda’s Accord and Civic, with a Nissan Altima and perhaps a Ford rental-fleet special tossed in.

Honda is an advanced engineering company that happens to specialize in transportation. Watch the videos below. I trust such a company to come up with a pretty good car, one I can depend on. If the next Civic is a careful evolution rather than a bold stroke, perhaps that’s because Honda is not digging itself out of a ditch.

And the U3-X personal mobility prototype.

Oh, and the Honda jet. I will fly nothing but Boeing unless I have absolutely no choice–I drive to Vegas to avoid Airbus planes–but I would feel pretty safe on a Honda jet. The American private jets are excellent and remain the first choice, but I have no doubt a Honda would get me where I want to go in style and comfort.

And just so you get my joke, meet the Narwhal, inspiration for the Honda Crosstour.