Dean Radin believes some people are psychic. No surprise there; investigating psychic phenomena is what Radin does for a living. And yet, when author Mary Roach asked the electrical engineer if there's a middle ground between believing that the dead contact the living through electromechanical devices and viewing the whole thing a hoax, Radin said "The middle ground between genuinely true and outright faking is unconscious delusion." Welcome to GM's world. 

I have no doubt that GM CEO Rick Wagoner and his acolytes will face this quarter's $3.25b loss with equanimity. Why not? During the last four years, they've glibly provided every imaginable excuse for GM's inability to book a profit; from "restructuring" costs, to labor buyouts, to the housing crisis and gas prices and beyond. The "turnaround is on course" is burned into their collective unconscious. They murmur reassuring words– to themselves and the outside world– and get back to the business of losing money.

In reality, there was a time when GM had the financial clout to make a $3.25b quarterly loss look like a right cross to a WWE wrestler's chin. But whether or not Wagoner et al admit it, the automaker's $23.9b supply of cash, marketable securities and other available funds– and that's worldwide folks, not North America– simply isn't enough to see the automaker through the current crisis, or the crisis to come.

The key point: GM needs to be analyzed for its cash flow, not earnings. This quarter, GM’s direct operating cash flow was negative $3.9b including special items. Total cash flow after non-operating items: negative $3.4b. Speaking to financial analysts, COO Fritz Henderson' tried to compare GM's current cash levels vs. last year's first financial quarter. But that’s irrelevant. All that matters is cash generated vs. cash spent over the last three months. And that’s decidedly negative.

In fact, GM was only saved from a total C11 meltdown in recent years by asset sales (well north of $10b, maybe as much as $20b). There's no escaping it: GM's business is going up in flames. You can feel the burn at the sharp end.

Henderson said GM NA's dealer inventory in April is around 840k units, the lowest level since 1983. But Fritz also said dealer stocks of full-size pickup trucks– GM's former cash cow– are still "higher than we'd like." Uh, GM has stopped making pickups (thanks to a strike by American Axle workers). And Toyota is about to pile discounts of the hood of its superabundance of Tundras. And Ford is about to launch the new F-150.

But it ain't just lost pickup profits plaguing GM. SUV sales have also cratered. In March, GM's truck and SUV sales (combined) dropped 22 percent. Worse still: falling SUV/pickup residuals trap existing GM owners in their current rigs. They can't be turned into repeat buyers to soak-up truck production– should it ever restart in any meaningful fashion.

Meanwhile, GM has no credible small cars to take up the slack. In a market where B-Class cars are flying off the lot, GM's products come complete with rebates. The automaker has no known programs to develop profitable vehicles in this segment except the Volt– which is (sticking with reality) a non-starter. For traditional domestic car buyers, a resurgent Ford looks set to steal whatever's left of GM's lunch.

In the financial realm, there's blood all over the carpet. Thanks to bad loans, bad management and a bad economy, GM's former financial powerhouse– car and mortgage lender GMAC– is heading for disaster. In terms of that beleaguered cash pile, GM has announced that it will advance up to $650m to its bankrupt former division Delphi in 2008. At the same time, GM's credit ratings are falling. Will the company lose access to its existing credit facilities?

As always, Wagoner and GM's camp followers cling to whatever good news they can pull from the wreckage. Today's Bloomberg headline on GM's Q1 loss sets the standard for self-denial: "GM Has Smaller Loss Than Estimated on Overseas Sales." In other words, overseas markets will keep GM afloat. Only, as discussed here many times and explained above, it won't. As TTAC commentator lprocter1982 points out, "GM's international profits, combined, don't equal even a third of their total loss."

To use the vernacular, stick a fork in GM. It's done. It's all over bar the lawsuits, recriminations, government bail-outs and unfurled golden parachutes. In fact, if GM's management accepted the full reality of the company's situation, they'd file for Chapter 11 now, while the automaker still has enough cash to reinvent itself, before Chapter 7 dissolution.

Of course, that would mean the end of Rick Wagoner's administration, his $14.4m annual compensation package and the sharp exit of his fantastically well-paid people (e.g. Car Czar Bob Lutz). Could the GM Empire finally be destroyed by unbridled personal greed? In truth, it's a done deal.

Last year, I scored over $400 worth of auto supplies. All it cost me was sales tax, a few stamps and about thirty minutes of my time. It was a lot of good stuff too: 24 quarts of synthetic motor oil, six gallons of coolant and a seemingly endless amount of top quality car waxes and detail products. Heck, I was even able to get three different tool sets and free wipes once all my maintenance work was done! Unfortunately, for a frugal enthusiast like me, that was then and this is now.

The auto parts market has changed dramatically in the last year. As I reported previously, soaring commodity prices have increased demand for recycling (rather than resale). At the same time, the economic downturn has millions of American motorists hanging onto their cars longer, and buying used instead of new. Rising raw costs and increased demand has made it a seller’s market.

Thus far this year, I’ve scored nothing free. Zero, nilch, nada. Every once in a while I see a complete oil change for $6.99, a free brake ‘inspection’ (with the obligatory small print shop fee) and parts store tools that are still thankfully available for free rental. It’s not the end of the world, but inflation is becoming a real bastard on the finances! Everything costs money now. As enthusiasts we have to watch for the deals whenever they arise.

In my neck of the woods, six auto parts stores serve local pistonheads and repair shops: Advance Auto Parts, NAPA, Autozone, O’Reillys, Pep Boys, and arguably (cough! cough!) Wal-Mart. Each one has their own strengths and weaknesses that I try to play off each other during the year.

For example, Advance often has the cheapest parts available. This makes it a favorite among auto repair facilities and cheapskates in my neck of the woods. For the ‘trader’ who likes to tinker during weekends, Advance is often a good source. However, the ‘keeper’ should only get those parts that have lifetime warranties. From my perspective, that means they should focus instead on the quality side of the equation. Which calls for some serious online cross-shopping.

NAPA offers higher quality parts at a price. From my experience, NAPA’s the ‘Target’ equivalent. If you’re the type who doesn’t want to pay a premium for dealer parts but still wants quality, NAPA may have the best offerings. Rarely will NAPA ever have a good deal on motor oil or detail products. They do however have great deals for those folks looking to keep their car driving like a premium product.

Autozone is good for oils and accessories. It’s the perfect cross-shopping alternative to NAPA and Advance. In my experience, they have the widest selection, and it’s not too difficult to find parts that are similar to the other two retailers. As with all big box retailer these days, many products are virtually identical. Even though the parts manufacturer’s name may be different, it may have indeed come from the very same [Chinese] factory. An online visit to all three of these retailers is always worth the while for TTACers on a budget.

O’Reilly’s offers the most free and cheap repair tools. When they’re overstocked, they also have the best sales. However, you have to visit their stores to find the deals. Last year I bought over $300 worth of auto parts for virtually nothing because I went through the trouble of looking through the coupon rack right by the entrance. A list of 40 products were given in one little note card. An hour later, I was stocked for virtually the entire year. O’Reilly’s also have one of the most diverse additive product offerings I’ve seen. 

Pep Boys and Wal-Mart are usually the cheap tire / cheap oil places. Pep Boys will have the $6.99 oil change deals and Wal-Mart offers oil changes for less than $20. Wal-Mart offers every day low prices while you have to search the Pep Boys Sunday circulars to get the right deals.

Watch out for hidden charges and miscellaneous fees. If you’re one of those that prefer to have someone else do the wrenching, make sure you know the total cost before you visit. Wal-Mart installs tires and changes your oil. Pep Boys will do that and install parts as well. In both instances, I would still prefer the services of a reputable independent mechanic.

Car-part.com is another excellent source for factory parts. I suggest you visit the site before going the used/recycled route. Craigslist can be a Shangri-la for cheap parts, and EBay still offers plenty of good deals for those who are willing to wait a week.

In the today’s world of car parts, there's no such thing as a free quart of synthetic oil. It pays to look around and shop smart.

There’s an often-repeated statistic: U.S. Buick dealers sell just four cars per dealer per month. It’s true, but c’mon; that was last year’s totals. In March, Buick sales slipped to three cars per dealer. Thanks to TTAC’s Frank Williams, I’ve had a chance to examine the exact dealer and sales stats for the Beyond Precision people. Having deconstructed the data, I can declare that this seemingly absurd three cars a month number, while strictly true, isn’t the whole story. The “whole story” is much worse.   

First, to be strictly accurate, the 36 cars per Buick dealer per year stat doesn’t include trucks. Add-in Enclave sales and you’re up to 60 sales per dealer per year. (Only Ferrari, Isuzu and Rolls have lower averages.) You may wonder how any car dealer could survive on such meager portions. The short answer is, they don’t. GM’s 90 “exclusive” Buick dealers sell quite a bit more than a car per week. The problem isn’t these Buick stores; it’s the “dualed” and “tripled” Buick franchises; 29 of them for every solo dealer.   

To help you wrap you mind around those numbers, there are over 2700 places where you could, if pressed, buy a Buick. That “coverage” includes as many franchises as Toyota, Lexus, Honda and Acura. Combined. All to support numbers slightly larger than sales of Honda’s Odyssey. The scariest part ISN’T that the average Buick dealer sells a car a week (probably less). The bigger problem is that these franchises can survive selling so few.   

One of the less-mentioned side effects of The Big 2.8’s massive brand spread and bloated dealer networks: “franchise bloat.” GM, Ford, Chrysler have about 6500, 4000 and 3500 “dealerships” (i.e. buildings) respectively. Toyota/Lexus and Honda/Acura have about 1100 stores each; Nissan/Infiniti 1000. Now, let's talk franchises. Detroit automakers have 13,000, 6800 and 8300 franchises. Toyota clock in at about 1500; Honda and Nissan have about 1200 franchisees.    

Franchise glut means dealers are frequently bidding against each other on price, and fighting for product allocation. But there’s an even bigger downside for Detroit: multiple franchises give dealers greater leverage. A dealer receiving cars from two or more streams can concentrate their efforts where it’s most profitable (e.g. on whichever line is getting a marketing boost at the moment). The languishing brands can be milked for limited-allocation cars until a particular model catches fire. Or, in Buick’s case, not.

While it's been argued that single-line dealers lead to too many models spread across too many price points, at least a single-line car dealer can’t play Peter off against Paul at similar price points. In other words, they’re not hurting one brand by helping another.

But the single biggest problem caused by franchise bloat down Detroit way is that it’s made killing brands more difficult, rather than easier.

In theory, bringing in additional lines reduces the damages dealers can claim when you kill a given brand (Chrysler did this when axing Eagle). Yes, but– lopping off brands does nothing to trim the bloated number of dealers. A two or three-headed dealer may not be a money machine, but there is no real way to “starve” it.  

So, when you get right down to it, the real obstacle to killing Buick isn’t those 90 stand-alone dealers. They can be bought. It’s the 2600 other guys who will still be selling GM cars when the smoke clears.

Having to pay off 2700 dealers to reduce the “footprint” by less than 100 wouldn’t work even when GM was flush. Ford is in better shape; they at least only have effectively two brands (Mercury does not exist away from Lincoln or Ford). Of course, that makes terminating Mercury completely useless from the “reducing dealers” standpoint. And pity poor Chrysler/Cerberus. It really is a three-headed dog; some 75 percent of their dealerships are multi-branded, often offering all three marques.

Hang on. If franchise glut is such an enormous problem for Detroit, why is GM consolidating their dealer networks (Buick/ Pontiac/GMC; Cadillac/Saab/Hummer)? Hell if I know. The new multi-franchise system leaves GM with the same dealer glut as before. And now, if they really want to cut Buick dealers, they’ll have to kill Buick AND Pontiac AND GMC together.

In the meantime GM will have four competing “mainstream” distribution channels (including Chevy and Saturn). Well, at least sending one or two of these mega-franchises into that long good night is [theoretically] doable. Ford and Chrysler lack even that option.

And so three-cars-per-dealer Buick is, at the end of the day, a zombie. And now that GM (and Chrysler) doesn’t have the multiple billions needed to make these problems go away, there’s only way out of this entire over-dealered, over-franchised mess. But will anyone buy a car from a bankrupt automaker? From Buick NA’s perspective, it doesn’t really matter anymore. Now that’s scary.

You can argue who makes the best car in any given segment or genre ‘til you’re blue in the face. As for who has the best auto ads, there isn’t much debate: Volkswagen. Once again, the Boys from Wolfsburg have commissioned another Clio candidate. This time ‘round, it’s a talking (if ironically immobile) Bug named Max, starring as a talk show host. [Max ad not shown here; above is a vintage VW ad] The new ad, devised by Miami’s Crispin Porter + Bogusky agency, sums-up the automaker’s gestalt even better than “de-pimp my ride” and “Fast"– and not in a good way.

The first thing that stands out about the new ad: the fact that the host is a Beetle. Roots, rock, reggae be damned. At the risk of stating the obvious, the Beetle isn’t even made anymore. Not here. Not Mexico. Nowhere. CP+G know what they’re doing though; in her more lucid moments, even Lindsay Lohan recognizes that old thing. The Bug’s iconic shape is an instant attention-getter.

Yes, but, to what end? Why would VW want to remind its U.S. customers of a car whose looks, personality and market positioning better suit American car buyers than anything VW offers them today? Lest we forget, there’s a NEW Beetle out there, somewhere. What’s old is new and what’s new doesn’t count? Strange logic.

Anyway, if you think about it, despite the backup band, Max really isn’t really a talk show host. On the subconscious level, Max is a therapist. You know, one-on-one chat. German accent. Piercing questions. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar– and sometimes it isn’t.

The funny thing is, if anyone should be “on the couch,” it’s the Beetle. Here ist ein volks wagen designed by a budding sports car maker (who ended-up building tanks and ass-engined hedge explorers) at the request of a failed artist who never learned to drive or met a country he didn’t want to invade.

Contemplating VW’s gleaming representation of past glory, the new ad raises enough uncomfortable questions to keep Dr. Phil busy for, oh, two episodes or so. For starters, how does Max feel about the fact that his children and grandchildren have lost their way? With some notable exceptions (e.g. the European Golf), grandpa’s progeny have misplaced and/or abandoned their ancestor’s world-beating strengths (not to say polluted their genetic advantage): reliability and frugality.

Nowhere is this more true than in the U.S. For much of the 1960s, the VW Beetle WAS the American import market. None of the Bug variants were fast. Few were pretty. Their handling would have been a scandal (if such things had been scandalous) and they had ergonomic “issues.” (One ad featured a snowplow driver driving his beetle to work; off-camera, he’d lit himself on fire to keep warm.) But Beetles were cheap to buy and even cheaper to keep running. 

And then Toyota and Datsun proved they could build appliances every bit as well using engineering that wasn’t 25 years old. Cute couldn’t keep the Beetle afloat forever (so to speak). The Bug’s children were in and out of rehab for years, guzzling gas, lost, never really finding a purpose in life. 

Dr. Phil would also ask Max how he feels about his parent’s move stateside. While Max might give Mama props for being the first U.S. transplant, the [not a real] Doctor would confront him with the fact that the relocation was an unmitigated disaster. In fact, a discussion of the quality of the resulting products might be better suited for the Jerry Springer show; at the risk of offending the good people of Pennsylvania, we’re talking total trailer trash.

Rabbit production at the Westmoreland factory was so god damn awful– and expensive– that the resulting products single-handedly destroyed VW’s U.S. reputation. Mama? She eventually fled for Brazil. So, Max, how does THAT make you feel?

Given the Bug’s world domination, getting Max out of denial is hardly a foregone conclusion. But we could arm Phil with some stats. VW sells 200k cars per year stateside. They’re now aiming to sell 1m. How? By reintroducing the Phaeton? Isn’t it time Max strolled into the boardroom, stare his inheritors straight in the eye and, Mommie Dearest-style, said “Don’t fuck with me fellas”?

Clearly, VW’s not-so-mad Max ad campaign is a huge mistake. It reminds people of what VW should be, but isn't. Other than making a car that doesn’t break and providing dealerships that don’t piss on customers from a great height, the ad highlights the fact that VW still doesn’t know where/what they want to be in the US market.

Until Volkswagen returns to the characteristics that made it great in the first place, until they get reality squared away with their image, they will continue to fail in America. It’s one thing to celebrate the past. It’s another to do so while ignoring its lessons. 

As a child I loved to play on swings. Leaning back and kicking my legs forward, I could propel myself into momentary weightlessness. Of course, every good swing ended with an acrobatic dismount. At the point of greatest forward momentum, I would let go of the chains and launch myself off the seat. For a brief moment I would be flying. Like an astronaut on NASA’s vomit comet, I would arc across the back yard. The sensation was thrilling. But I wasn’t a bird. Gravity’s hand never failed to pull me back to earth. And so it is with General Motors. 

Today, The General defies gravity. Officially. The global automaker flies near the top of the newly released Fortune 500 list. Corporate revenues of $182b earned GM the number four spot (down one position) on Fortune Magazine’s Fortune 500, trailing only Wal-Mart Stores, Exxon Mobil, and Chevron. As Borat would say, “High five.”

What’s more, General Motors also scored on the list of The World’s 50 Most Innovative Companies. Collaboratively produced by BusinessWeek (BW) and the prestigious Boston Consulting Group (BCG), GM took eighteenth spot on this tally of cutting edge companies. Unlike the Fortune 500, which is strictly a measure of revenue, the BW-BCG list is based on the survey of 2,950 “senior executives” (weighted 80 percent), records of three-year margin growth and revenue growth (5 percent each), and three-year stock returns (10 percent).

GM, who BW dubs a “dark horse,” must have killed on the executive survey because their financials suck. (More on that later.) Fifty-five percent of survey respondents cited General Motors’ products as their most distinguishing innovation (as opposed to innovative customer experience, processes, or business model). 

Clearly, the tens of millions (not to say billions) of dollars The General’s spent greenwashing its image has successfully advanced the automaker’s high tech rep within the business community’s chattering classes. One thinks specifically of GM’s highly-promoted, oft-delayed, completely unproven, Prius-chasing gas – electric Chevrolet Volt. And then of GM’s Green Car of the Year Award-winning dual-mode hybrid SUVs. But not specifically of anything actually selling in any number.  

I’m at a loss to explain how GM ranks eighteenth of fifty overall behind Toyota (#3), Tata Group (#6), BMW (#14) and Honda (#16) while it is second on the top ten list of innovative automakers produced from the same data by BW-BCG. On that list, GM trail Toyota but edges-out Tata, BMW and Honda. Go figure.

Nonetheless, let us imagine GM flying through the air like a boy slung from a swing, intoxicated by the sweet air of high praise and honor. Now picture a speeding Chevy Aveo slamming into the unyielding off-set crash barrier at the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety. Let’s call that wall GM’s financial report.

During 2007, General Motors suffered $39 b-b-b-b-billion in losses. Among the Fortune 500, GM takes first place in that metric (or last place, depending on how you look at it). Earnings per share fell $68.45, revenue fell twelve percent and assets shrunk $26b. 

In fact, General Motors is the only company in the Fortune top ten that lost money, save FoMoCo (who lost a paltry $2.7b). Even the two banks that cracked Forbes’ top ten– Citigroup and Bank of America– managed to turn tidy profits. This despite the ravaging impact of the well-publicized sub-prime mortgage loan losses. To top that off, from 2004 to 2007, GM stock returns slumped eleven percent.

If that number doesn’t put things in proper perspective, consider that General Motors lost nearly as much as Exxon Mobil made ($40.6b). Combine GM’s losses to those of GMAC ($2.3b)– which The General mostly and wisely unloaded during the year– and GM’s losses would have eclipsed the most profitable company in the world.

Unfortunately, conditions in 2008 are no better than ’07. Near-bankrupt suppliers continue to threaten disruption to GM’s manufacturing plants. Commodities market speculation is driving oil and gasoline prices to new highs, and GM has no credible economy car for the vital U.S. market. The American economy continues to flag and consumers are buying fewer new cars. E85, in which GM is so deeply invested, is fast emerging as an eco-fraud and the Volt’s got no batteries. The labor unions are proving that they will yield no quarter so long as the General has a dollar in the bank, no matter how fast their cash is burning up.

Couldda, shouldda, wouldda. Things would certainly be different today if corporate management had started hopping with their new found sense of urgency, say, ten years ago. Or twenty. Or thirty.  Can General Motors get its feet back under itself before it hits the ground or are they going to land squarely on their head? Either way, despite this week’s headlines, the company is in a financial free fall and it’s going to hit the ground.

My next door neighbor is one of those classic 'car traders.' He buys, fixes, drives, fixes, drives, fixes, etc. When the repairs finally get to be too much time and hassle, he sells the car. I've seen a lot of nameplates come and go through his driveway. Hondas and Nissans stay for a while. Saabs require constant weekend tinkering. And Volkswagens need more plastics than a Barbie factory. Only one brand has stuck around, for nearly a decade now: his family Volvo wagon. And therein lies the tale.

Back in the day, older Volvos were [rightly] known for their long list of standard safety virtues: side impact protection systems, whiplash protection, four wheel ABS disc brakes and traction control. Only an S-Class Mercedes or a few good friends from my home state of New Jersey offered more protection… and both required a lot more scratch.

These Volvo's of Yore were a lot more than just glorified safety barges. They were luxurious in a way that no Toyonda of the time could touch. The 'safest car on the road' was supremely comfortable, with Goldilocks perfect seats and terrific visibility. These thrones of near-luxury beatitude came complete with CD changers, turbochargers, all-wheel drive and a narrow girth. The combo made the Volvo wagon a favorite for buyers seeking a safe, European-style family car with a modicum of sporting character.

For a while, Volvo stood alone in the marketplace. Throughout the eighties into the nineties, while the Japanese and Americans followed the herd that became the SUV and minivan stampede, Volvo maintained its traditional virtues: a wagon (and sedan) that offered protection, build quality and comfort at a family-friendly price. It was a good bet– that unfortunately gave way to lots of bad bets.

In 1999, Ford bought Volvo. It wouldn't be fair to say that Volvo had jumped the shark by then. But you could say they'd lost their mojo. Or, more accurately, their competitors had found it.

At the turn of the last century, gas was [still] inexpensive, luxury was trickling down and, worst of all for Volvo, safety regulations had leveled the playing field. The Camry and Accord– once distant pretenders to Volvo's safety throne– released legitimate alternatives that cost thousands less than the mostly built-in-Europe S60's and V70's. Traction Control, standard ABS braking, side-curtain airbags, in-floor frame rails (used to move energy to the car body instead of the occupants) and new design architectures made these mainstream vehicles comparable to the sedan versions of Volvo's FWD models.

All of the sudden, Volvo's safety 'statement' became a debate. Still, if Volvo had simply progressed with the times in terms of product quality, the brand might have remained a serious contender. Unfortunately, Volvos were becoming expensive propositions for their soon to be disloyal customers. ABS modules, evaporator cores, severe engine throttle body issues (which required multiple recalls) and low-quality interior glues made virtually all the pre-Ford Volvos high dollar propositions for the automotive novice. The majority of whom represented Volvo's traditional conservative clientele.

The post-Ford 2001 refreshing of the V70 wagon resulted in numerous electrical glitches and transmissions that eventually went from a firm smooth ka-thunk to a $3000+ kaput. Volvo's clean competitive advantage gradually became a bit more hazy in the marketplace. J.D. Power reflected this new, less appealing reality when it released sub-par customer retention ratings for the Volvo brand.

By this time, Subaru had gained enormous traction amongst the Volvo crowd by offering cheaper and better made Foresters and Outbacks. In 2002, Volvo unleashed its XC90 into the American market. While the late-the-the-party SUV garnered tremendous sales success, the upmarket vehicle solidified a move away from Volvo's sensible, lower middle-class roots.

Despite its brand-faithful, class-leading safety, the thirsty XC was a "me too" vehicle with LOTS of lower-priced competition: compact SUVs with room, safety and features aplenty. Escapes, RAV4's, and CRV's posed a question for which Volvo didn't have an answer. "Why do we need to spend more for a Volvo?" At the same time, luxury brands' compact SUVs crowded Volvo from on high.

Today's Volvo is hanging in there. Sales have fallen 8.3 percent (to 106,213 units) year-to-date, but that's not bad in a generally down market. The bigger question is this: what is a Volvo? The revised V-wagons are an admirable attempt to recapture the old magic in America's post-SUV landscape, but the brand's defenders have positioned Volvos too high in the price ladder for its traditional clientele. The chances that Volvo can compete against the established luxury brands are, still, slim.

The term "Volvo wagon" as a phrase synonymous for affordable durability is dead. In the meantime, cars like my neighbors pre-Ford 1996 Volvo wagon are still running strong, giving serious street cred to a brand that really hasn't lead the field since 2001. Now what?

With the notable exception of Dan Neil's work at the LA Times, the vast majority of newspaper car reviews are written to fill the spaces between automotive advertisements while sucking-up to the dealers and manufacturers who provide the ad revenue. When I caught sight of Tom Keane's take on the new Chevrolet Malibu Hybrid in the San Francisco Chronicle, I decided to see if the paper that fired TTAC's founder for his infamous Subaru Tribeca B9 "flying vagina" review had any teeth left in its automotive editorial coverage. In a word, no.

Keane didn't just imbibe the GM Kool-Aid, he cut-and-pasted it. The scribe went straight for the official press release to "explain the design" as having "a strong stance and bold proportions" and "a visually lower, yet longer, greenhouse and shorter deck [to] suggest motion and agility." It features an "aggressive, stable stance and rear-profile with Corvette cues that connects to Chevrolet's rich performance heritage."

Hey, at least Keane admitted the description came from "the Chevrolet people." But he begins the piece with his own, bold assertion. "With gasoline topping $3.50, there's no better time to drive the Malibu Hybrid."

To make his case, Keane compares the gas-electric 'Bu to the much thirstier 3.6-liter V6-powered Malibu, which gets 17 mpg city, 26 mpg highway and 20 mpg combined. He points out that the Hybrid is $4k less than this more-deluxe model. Well, yes. And it beats a Suburban LTZ by $22K, 12 mpg city and 15 mpg highway. So why not use the Yukotahburbalade if you're going to make an inherently biased apples/oranges comparison?

Reality check: the 2.4-liter four-cylinder Malibu Hybrid gets 24 mpg city and 32 mpg highway; 27 combined on the EPA test cycle. The non-hybrid model with a 2.4-liter four-cylinder engine gets 22 mpg city, 30 mpg highway and 25 combined– a difference of only two mpg across the board.  In contrast, the Camry Hybrid betters its gas-powered sibling by 12 mpg city, three mpg highway and nine mpg combined.

But what can Keane do? He can't point out if you spend $4k more for the Hybrid you only gain two mpg. That might make readers think GM isn't very good at hybrids, and we can't have that. In fact, reading this paean to erstwhile pistonhead perfection, I began to wonder if Keane worked in the SF Chronicle's advertising department. You know, formally. No joke. It happens all the time. At the bottom of the review, I read © Motor Matters, 2008.

Motor Matters caters primarily to the newspaper industry. The website proudly proclaims they have "12 automotive writers to provide editorial support for your automotive advertisers." They provide "accurate, clean copy written by… people [who] are highly respected by the automotive industry." Well duh! What's not to respect for an auto exec or dealer thrilled to the gills by glowing reviews of the latest metal? Motor Matters cites the number of papers that carry their reviews as "evidence that what we produce is informative to readers and beneficial to advertisers."

Motor Matters make no bones about their complete lack of editorial integrity. Their reviewers "give driving impressions, report their findings with integrity, but not in an objectionable manner." Screw the readers, for whom an automobile is their second largest financial purchase (after their house). Screw the truth. 

Motor Matters' website provides links to suitable examples of their fundamentally unobjectionable copy, hoping to lure newspapers ready, willing and able to sacrifice editorial honesty for the good of their automotive advertisers. One of these is Keane's review of the Chrysler Sebring convertible. 

To refresh your memory, when TTAC's Captain Mike Solowiow tested the Sebring, he noted "when the trunk lid pops to swallow the top, the entire car shakes like a pole dancer, wobbles a bit and then clunks alarmingly when sealing shut." His conclusion?  "I wouldn't keep the Sebring past the standard warranty period based solely on the scary top operation… If it was my hard-earned $30Kish, I'd spend it on a Mustang GT Convertible, VW EOS, SAAB 9-3, Mazda MX-5 or ANYTHING else."

So what was Keane's take? He loved the "bright interior appearance, " the "remarkable shifting of various hardtop components as they… folded into the rear compartment" and "its attractive design." In parroting a variety of numbers provided by the factory, he cites the top's "30-second opening and closing operation" (which Capt Mike actually timed at 45 seconds). Keane closes with "this automaker offers up-scale quality vehicles with eye-appeal."  Oh, and that "their products should keep the Chrysler showrooms busy for a long time." Has he even driven past a Chrysler showroom lately?

[BTW: Keane also mentions that a Chrysler engineer accompanied him on the test drive. Nope. No bias shown there.]

We understand that automotive writers like Keane have to put food on their table. We know they're part of a corrupt system that's as outdated as some of the products they're shamelessly promoting. Sadly, we also know that the average newspaper reader is oblivious to the lies, spinmongery and propaganda perpetuated by the craven automotive press. Rest assured that as long as media outlets keep publishing crap like this, TTAC will keep sounding the alarm. And telling The Truth About Cars.

GM is re-organizing its corporate structure. It’s putting its eight brands into four divisions under four car czarettes, in a three-three-one-one configuration. For those of you who can’t guess which GM brand will go with which (as there’s no neat, logical way to make these groupings), it’s Cadillac, Hummer and Saab; Buick, Pontiac and GMC; and Saturn and Chevy on their lonesome. “We are further streamlining the organization,” GM’s President of North America announced. “To reduce complexity, align resources to improve the consumer experience and improve bottom line business results." It’s a deeply misguided maneuver.

The problem with GM’s restructuring is patently obvious. What exactly does the Cadillac brand have to do with Hummer? Caddy is supposed to be GM’s upmarket answer to BMW, Mercedes, Lexus and (less charitably) Infiniti and Acura. Hummer offers a limited range of pseudo-military, gas-guzzling off-roaders competing with Jeep, Land Rover and Toyota’s Land Cruiser. Saab– an ostensibly Euro (Nordic?) near-luxury brand– is a better fit with Cadillac. But better doesn’t mean good.

The combination of Buick, Pontiac and GMC (BPG in GM-speak) doesn’t offer even a glimmer of unifying logic. Doctors cars (and a CUV), performance-oriented vehicles and gussied-up Chevy trucks? It’s like lemon maple fudge ice cream. Although no one at GM (or within the automotive media) seems particularly bothered by this bizarre new “sales channel” development, how is the “customer experience” improved by the creation of such an odd trifecta of car brands? 

If the customer-facing side of this concept is dubious to the point of dementia, reorganizing GM to “streamline” the bureaucracy to reflect these shotgun marriages makes even less sense. In fact, by placing BPG and, uh, CSH into twin fiefdoms, GM is reinforcing a mistake of gargantuan proportions, guaranteeing that it will forever remain in branding Hell. Think of it this way…

There is no way GM can create compelling products that sustain eight coherent automotive marques by grabbing a generic anycar off the shelf and tweaking it here and there to fit some pre-determined idea of a brand's demands. In theory, perhaps. In practice, the Saab 9-7X. With large scale intra-brand platform, drivetrain and components sharing, the temptation to cut corners, to dumb-down the possibility of brand-specific excellence for “easy money” or the greater good, is simply too great. Ipso facto.

Consolidating BPG and CSH is bound to accentuate this problem. While turning eight hungry mouths into four must be an orgasmic idea for GM’s Beancounter-in-Chief and his Beancounter COO, it will destroy what little remains of GM’s octo-brand equity and sink the company even deeper into its current morass of mediocrity. That’s because maintaining brand independence is not an administrative issue. It’s the key to excellence.

Great brands– and thus great products– are the result of a corporate culture deeply dedicated to particular way of seeing the world. You can argue about BMW’s realization of its "ultimate driving machine" ethos, but this guiding principle dominates every aspect of the German automaker’s existence. You can see it in the choice of office furniture. The pictures on the wall of their HQ’s cafeteria. The hushed tones in the waiting room. And you can feel it around a corner, even in Bimmer’s most “piggish” vehicles.

Compare and contrast this situation with Saturn. If “what is a Saturn” is a tough question, “WHERE is Saturn” is a logical corollary. BMW may have field ops in Spartanburg and Shenyang, but its heart is in Munich. You could make a coherent argument that the Saturn brand died when they left Spring Hill, Tennessee; a southern enclave whose honesty and friendliness informed the entire company.

Putting Buick, Pontiac and GMC under one roof– whether metaphorically or literally– will rip the heart and soul out of all three brands. In many important ways, they will simply cease to exist. The same Borg-like assimilation will afflict Cadillac, Hummer and Saab, with equally disastrous results.

Greater integration of executive control for these six GM brands is the exact opposite of what The General should be doing to guarantee their survival– if their survival is, indeed, the goal. It will accelerate the process of badge-engineering that has bedeviled the company post Alfred P. Sloan. And, ironically enough, the consolidation of power under two executives will exacerbate the executive infighting that has been the hallmark of GM’s long, slow, painful fall from grace.

If you doubt the accuracy of this analysis, re-read Troy Clarke’s quote at the beginning of this article. While the Prez’ suggestion that GM should “reduce complexity” is about as controversial as motherhood, the main, indeed central problem with GM NA is that its products LACK complexity. Or, more accurately, individuality. How does placing six disparate brands into two new fiefdoms create distinct, distinctive and marketable products? Answer: it doesn’t.

Pop quiz, hot shot: What's longer than a Ford Excursion, older than the Beatles' Revolver, blacker than midnight, totally devoid of seatbelts and soon heading to the Czech Republic? The pictures don't lie: a 1965 Buick LeSabre 400. Yes, the lure of a small finder's fee and my irrational obsession for anything with four wheels has once again seen me purchase a hunk of Detroit iron for a mysterious man somewhere north of Prague. Who am I to resist?

Luckily this Buick was being held behind the Orange Curtain, which is only a 30-mile jaunt from my hilly compound near Downtown Los Angeles. As fate would have it, I still have the 1981 C3 Corvette. Cashier's check in glove box, a friend and I decided to set off to retrieve the LeSabre.

First, we decided that he should test out the 'Vette to make sure my driving companion was comfortable with the ‘Vette's thirteen inches of clutch travel and tractor-like controls. He wasn't. So we hopped into the WRX.

Thirty minutes later we were in Irvine staring at nineteen and a half feet of utter darkness, punctuated by chrome and brass. I've seen surf boards smaller than the bumpers. You could stash the entire Gambini family in the trunk. Talk about a back seat; the original wheels were passengers. All four of ‘em. With tires. It seems ludicrous that the LeSabre front seats accommodate as many as the four-door BMW X6-or is that the other way around?

Title in hand, I fired up the LeSabre and pointed it in the direction of a gas station. And then stalled. And stalled. And stalled. And stalled seven more times. The seller had warned me that the carburetor was "a little funny." Apparently, I needed to double pump the pedal to mix the fuel and air properly. Trouble is, the throttle is bottom hinged and the seat is so deep and far back that I kept messing up the mix. And stalling.

Finally, I removed my right shoe and got the big black beauty moving. Seventy-five dollars and at least a dozen stalls later, we're off.

Other than bored, alcoholic housewives who celebrate their uniqueness on reality TV, long, wide empty streets that cut straight through what used to be citrus groves are Orange County's defining feature. I pushed the Buick up to an indicated 50 mph and called my friend (who's worriedly following me) to ask how fast we're actually going. "50 mph." Well alright then, we're good to go. Or, as Farago would say, not.

You see, the aforementioned scenario occurred just before I learned that the Buick doesn't have brakes. Well, OK, there are four tired, 43-year-old Detroit drums, but they don't actually stop the car. All they do is ask nicely if the Buick LeSabre feels like slowing down. Sadly, the car's deaf.

So there I was, blissfully unaware of this mechanical deficit, about to make a 90-degree right hand turn. Long story short, apparently curves weren't a feature of American roads when the second generation LeSabre was penned. I now know what it's like to pilot a submarine. I made a mental note to increase braking distances by 1,000 percent and hopped on the freeway, heading towards Disneyland.

Traffic was light. The Buick's tweaked mill (Holley carb, Edelbrock headers) was shockingly capable of motivating nearly two tons of vintage metal up to and past freeway speeds. In fact, with the Super Turbine 400 slushbox in "D" and my foot off the gas, the LeSabre was happy to plod along at 30 mph. A light toe-tap summoned 70 mph; a decidedly comfy cruising speed.

Despite a complete lack of handling and the persistent feeling in my gut that I'm about to die, the Buick was fun. While only sporting two doors, the LeSabre has six window cranks (side quarter vents, window, rear window) and my favorite all time feature: kick-on brights. There was so much cavernous space that I could put my right arm across the back of the seat and not even get kinda close to the passenger door. And of course everybody was staring at me.

My biggest gripe was with the Buick's ride. Sure, the suspension's dropped (and shot), but the tackytastic, uber-low profile tires on massive donks make potholes feel like severe fender benders. I hit two patches of nastiness in a row and was certain I'd been rear-ended. But here's the good news. As soon as this baby hits continental Europe, my Czech benefactor will be ditching the ugly wheels and installing a disk brake kit.

Despite my rep as TTAC's resident treehugger cum racer (go figure), the LeSabre is my kind of car: a machine with genuine American style. Too bad our Ameri-Pesos are only worth seven swizzle sticks, ‘cause this baby's a keeper.

TTAC's monthly By The Numbers editorial tracks everything from fuel-sucking SUVs to the gas-sipping Prius. In this month's report, the sales stat were bleak almost across the board. Almost, but not quite. Economy car sales are, as you'd expect, relatively robust. To bring a little joy to readers fed-up with a steady stream of bad news, I decided to chart new car sales for subcompacts and compacts from the "Big 6:" Chrysler, Ford, GM, Honda, Nissan and Toyota. The stats run for all of '07, and year-to-date. Here's how the so-called bottom of the automotive food chain is looking, with review links and inventory levels thrown-in for good measure…

Subcompacts

Honda's Fit is giving the competition fits. Sales of Jonny Lieberman's favorite sub-compact are up a whopping 61.4 percent over last March. Annual sales are even more impressive: jumping some 77 percent over last year. Hard to believe, but the Toyota Yaris did even better on the month, clocking-in with a 70.1 percent increase. The car RF said "isn't a pig to drive" didn't do quite as well on the year, rising "only" 58.3% over the first three months. Nissan's Versa is picking-up steam too. It was up 24.6 percent for March and 20.5 percent for the year. The good news ended at Chevy dealers' doors. The Korean-built Chevy Aveo's sales were way down– a 45.6 percent drop from last March.  Annual sales of PJ's whipping post are down 19.2 percent from this time last year.

The inventory levels for these mighty mites reflect their sales show. Chevy started April with a 113-day supply of Aveos. Honda only stocked enough Fits to last 27 days, and Nissan's supply of Versas would last 53 days. Toyota doesn't break out individual models in their inventory numbers, but they started the month with a 51-day supply of cars and trucks.

Compact

Compact sales look equally robust, with a couple of surprising exceptions. The Dodge Caliber went up 10.1 percent in March and is 15.2 percent ahead of last year. Ford's Focus is in SYNC, with a 24 percent jump in March and a 23.2 percent gain over 2007 year to date.  The Honda Civic finished the month 10.2 percent ahead of last March and up 13.8 percent on last year. The compact-in-name-only Nissan Sentra had a strong showing, increasing 12.8 percent in March and 20.5 percent for the year to date.

The surprises: the Chevy Cobalt and Toyota Corolla. Both showed sales decreases in March. Sales of the car Chris Paukert called "a solid set-up man" (back in 2005) dropped 23.8 percent. The Corolla fell even further, down 26.9 percent. For the year to date, Cobalt's still holding its own, with a 14.5 percent increase over last year. Corolla's sales so far this year are down 24 percent.

As with the subcompacts, inventory levels of the compacts reflect the monthly sales. April began with a 48-day supply of Calibers and a 54-day supply of Foci on dealers' lots. Honda dealers started the month with a 52-day supply of Civic. The Sentra started the month with the ideal 60-day level. Chevy faced April Fool's Day with a 75-day supply of Cobalts. Just like with the Yaris, the inventory level for the Corolla wasn't available.

The Future

You'll see a flurry of activity in the subcompact and compact segment over the next few years, particularly from the American manufacturers. They've all but ignored these markets while chasing truck profits, with two not even playing in the subcompact segment. And now it's coming back to haunt them. With the 35-mpg CAFE standard looming on the horizon, The Big 2.8 have put their small car skates on.

Ford's decision to make SYNC an option on the Focus (rather than limiting the technology to their more expensive vehicles) and the forthcoming importation of the new Fiesta reflect this new priority. Chrysler's deal with Nissan will give them a Japanese-built small car in a couple of years; their partnership with Chery should bear fruit soon. GM's focusing a lot of attention on GMDAT, their corporate small car nexus. 

While they play catch-up, China and/or India could well send a bevy of small cars to our shores. And Toyandasan and friends aren't aren't sitting back watching by the market segment they dominate lip away. They'll keep improving their products to maintain their lead. The end result: an American small car renaissance. It is, in fact, the silver lining.

In 280 BC, King Pyrrhus took on the might of the Roman Army– and won. In one of history’s most insightful strategic assessments, the King surveyed the corpse-littered battlefield and concluded, “one more such victory shall undo us.” Since then, the term “Pyrrhic victory” describes a conflict in which a force expends so much energy winning a battle that it loses the war. It’s a lesson General Motors seems determined not to learn. The latest chapter in this continuing saga of self-delusion: the Buick Enclave. The Enclave is a false promise that illuminates GM’s strategic poverty, and its resulting weakness.

By now, Buick should be dead, its resources folded into the remaining GM brands for the greater good. The fading tri-shield is an icon for retirement home parking lots. The average buyer’s age is 65. U.S. sales have tumbled to just under 186k vehicles in 2007, falling by more than 50 percent in five years. In fact, Americans purchased fewer Buicks in 2007 than in 1937, during the Great Depression. Even Oldsmobile was moving more metal when it was axed in 2000.

But a funny thing happened on the way to the graveyard: last year’s launch of the Buick Enclave. The crossover garnered the sort of positive buzz that was once unthinkable for a Buick. The Lambda-platform CUV has earned accolades usually reserved for luxury imports, with waiting lists and inventory shortages to match. It’s not just the fanboys– even the Wall Street Journal, Automotive News and the Guardian has trumpeted its success.

Some of the resulting optimism for the Buick brand is understandable. Enclave buyers belong to a highly coveted pool, sporting an average age of 53 and median annual household incomes of $130k. By appealing to high earners, the Enclave generates substantially higher revenues than its fellow Lambda triplets. J.D. Power reports recent average transaction prices of $38,479, $3500 greater than the mid-tier GMC Acadia and more than $5600 above the Saturn Outlook. Thanks to Enclave’s sales performance, Buick’s overall transaction prices increased 16.1 percent over the year, substantially outperforming the industry average of 0.6 percent.

The actual sales figures, however, are less inspiring. At its current sales pace of about 45 – 50k units per year, Enclave deliveries lag behind such rivals as Lexus RX and Ford Edge, as well as its badge-engineered brother, the GMC Acadia. Those hoping for a Lambda-based home run will need to find another ballpark.

A closer look at the much-ballyhooed inventory shortages reveals that the General botched the Enclave’s launch. The CUV’s initial scarcity was not caused by staggering demand, as GM had boasted. Rather, a parts shortage was the culprit, suggesting a mismanaged supply chain. Moreover, Buick’s previous CUV experience could be a bad omen for the new kid in town. The Rendezvous also initially outperformed expectations before it fell off the charts, fell into a rat hole and died.

Buick’s ongoing plunge is dramatic enough to make the Titanic look seaworthy. Buick’s sedan lineup is speeding toward irrelevance. Sales in 2007 tumbled 23 percent, as the Lacrosse and Lucerne both posted double-digit declines. 2008 promises to be a repeat; year-to-date March deliveries are down almost 15 percent from last year. 

This hemorrhaging poses a palpable threat to the Enclave’s future. The Enclave delivers high-potential customers who are all dressed up with no place to go. The brand is effectively a one-vehicle outpost, incapable of exploiting Enclave’s boomer appeal.

Consequently, Buick’s future rests squarely on the shoulders of the upcoming 2010 Lacrosse sedan. The new car must win over youthful import buyers if the badge is to escape its malaise. Easier said than done. After all, it is the failure of the current Lucerne and Lacrosse that created this dilemma in the first place. A Vegas craps table would offer better odds.

The Enclave is a good soldier, but it was drafted by the wrong army for the wrong battlefield. With its stylish looks and near-luxury positioning, the Enclave embodies just about everything a Cadillac should be. Meanwhile, Cadillac is set to update the SRX and add a second CUV. All this while Chevrolet introduces a fourth Lambda-based CUV that looks remarkably like… the Buick Enclave.

For cannibals craving barbeque, the buffet will not be lacking for choice.

So it’s déjà vu all over again. Instead of acting decisively to rebuild their supreme marque and take it into battle against Lexus, BMW, Audi and Mercedes, GM is dedicating scarce resources to wage a civil war. The Enclave represents an obvious return to the not-so-distant past, when the domestic automaker garbled its branding to grab every sale possible, long-term consequences be damned. 

GM can’t afford this kind of success. In their efforts to rescue every badge, GM is winning some battles– and losing the war. If The General is to survive, it must bury Buick, marshal its forces and move on.

"Ford on a good day is always about the people," declared Jim Farley, group vice president of Ford marketing and communications. Like many of these pre-digested pronouncements, Farley’s seemingly innocuous, feel-good assertion is fraught with unintentional meaning. What does Farley mean by “Ford on a good day?” What’s Ford about on a BAD day? Is Ford bi-polar? Manic depressive? Does it forget to take its meds? And what about the contradiction between “on a good day” and “always?”  And, most damning of all, Ford is NOT about the people. It’s about the product.

I know: cars don’t build people, people build cars. I have consistently and persistently argued that corporate culture ultimately determines an automaker’s success or failure in the marketplace. A public declaration of respect for your workers is never a bad thing. And there’s nothing inherently wrong (or innovative) with Farley exhorting FoMoCo’s extended family to move the metal; the alleged point of his “Drive One” marketing campaign. The problem is, once again, one of subtext and nuance.

Drive One’s underlying assumption: Ford has won– or at least drawn level– in the battle to build desirable products. Hence the recently launched national ads trumpeting the fact that Ford’s initial build quality is now “as good as Toyota’s.” This may be true, but it’s not particularly motivational. In fact, the statement does more to draw attention to and underline Toyota’s reputation for quality than give potential Ford customers a unique and persuasive reason to switch to The Blue Oval. For this, Ford relies on Microsoft’s SYNC gizmo, whose exclusivity is set to expire.  

Ford’s Drive One campaign is based on the same “chip on our shoulder” attitude that’s bedeviled the domestics’ thinking for the last decade or more: our vehicles don’t suck, people just THINK they suck because they're American products (excluding the Mexican, South Korean, Belgian and Australian thing). But don’t take my word for it. "It's a marketer's dream to be here right now because the reality doesn't match up with perception," John Felice, Ford-brand general marketing manager, told Automotive News. "It's that gap between reality and perception that this whole thing is designed to close."

Unfortunately, Ford dealers are down with that. "It's incredibly frustrating to be a Ford dealer and know we have the best showroom we've had and yet we don't have people coming in to consider us," says Ford-Lincoln-Mercury franchise owner Jeff Robberson. "The need for this campaign was huge." Robberson’s contention that Ford has the best showroom they’ve ever had completely ignores the other guys’ product lineup, and fails to provide a compelling reason for customers to darken his doors.

So here we are again. Rather than concentrating on making their products unassailable, or at least choosing a unique selling point and sticking with it, Ford’s marketing efforts are once again [still] focused on its customer’s supposedly ignorance, perceived bias and, let’s face it, stupidity. If anything, the Ford campaign’s stridency– “Drive One” as opposed to “Have you driven a Ford lately?”– indicates a hardening of the automaker’s indefensible, defensive position.

The “get your ass behind the wheel of one of our cars and then you’ll see why you should buy one” marketing strategy completely ignores important buying considerations: long-term build quality, depreciation (i.e. total cost of ownership), dealer service and, of course, comparative product excellence. Ford made a stab at this crucial component with its rigged Car & Driver pimpatorial comparo, then abandoned it for… this. Which is what? A farrago of ad messages wrapped-up in a command to take a test drive.

The wider, ultimate question remains unanswered: why? Why should anyone test drive a Ford? Even more crucially, what exactly is a Ford?

It doesn’t really matter how Farley’s followers implement the Drive One campaign (human viral marketing is, if nothing else, cheap). It doesn’t even matter if more people take a Ford for a spin in the next month than the previous six. When considering Ford’s chances of survival, the central and damning fact is that [ironically enough] Drive One focuses on four product areas: quality, safety, environmentally friendly initiatives and technology. That’s three too many.

You don’t have to be a professional branding guru to know you shouldn't market a product based on four disparate selling points (at least not without a single unifying concept). But it was my understanding that Jim Farley answers to that job description. Ford poached Farley from that most focused of car companies (Toyota) at tremendous expense, presumably to apply his proven expertise to Ford’s sagging fortunes. And yet it seems as if Farley’s new employer’s lack of focus (both figurative and literal) has infected his thinking.

Not to put too fine a point on it, “Drive One” is the same old shit in a different wrapper.

I am comfy, reclining in my chair. It’s not a power-actuated Connolly-wrapped throne, but it supports me well enough, like the bench seats of American cars of yore. It’s so easy, sipping a coffee, commenting on the honor of an automotive world passing by. I’m enlightened by Edison’s accomplishment, a light bulb born of endless attempts, scribbling down the wretched life stories of Detroit, seeing the sad eyes of jobless people. I can not print down my tears on the keyboard, nor teleport the saltiness of its character.

I sigh, as millions do, the silent exhale of despair. I mentally walk the doomed path through the pages of the American car industry’s history. I look left and see union arrogance, indignation, intransigence and bully boy tactics. I look right and see management arrogance, incompetence, denial and destruction. I see missed opportunities and senseless distractions. I see pigs at a trough, oblivious to the abattoir's long shadow.

I consider the symptoms of the disease of disinterest, that’s leaving this once holy industrial landscape void. I see the smallest of nits. I taste, I feel, I smell those tiny gaps of a job left undone. A childish slip: those half a dime per square meter cheaper fabrics, those grayish knobs and squeaky rattles from unresolved underpinnings. I remember stories of mechanical failures born of apathy, whose correction was never offered freely, with humility.

I recall the early transgressors on Detroit’s turf, and admire— as millions came to do— their persistence. I celebrate their dedication– even as I decry the home teams’ inability to see past their fat paychecks and generous perks. How much effort would it have taken to respond, to stiff-arm the opposition, rather than laugh as they sprinted towards the end zone, and then, eventually, scramble to catch-up?

The resulting migration started as a trickle, and ended-up a torrent. In an aftertaste of a cheap, high octane alcohol, some still give in and forgive. In a never ending hangover, these supporters crawl out from the dust of zero rebates. Propelled by amnesia and increasingly willful ignorance, the cycle repeats itself. But the crowd shrinks, like a sweater washed too many times at too high a temperature.  

Relative to itself, Detroit’s gains are, now, enormous. And yes, their pickup trucks are still the gold standard. But there’s no escaping it: gas guzzlers are like beached whales that cannot return to sea. And dozens of factories are closing. Jobs are disappearing. An industrial waste land, a new rust belt, is aborning.

I wish I could remind Detroit that customers choosing transplanted metal ain’t aliens or Cold War spawns. They were— are— hard-working Americans who depend on their transportation for their quality of life. And the workers who can no longer earn their living from these keepers of the faith are real people too. Management dashed their workers’ expectations of a better life on the rocks of their scotch and soda. There’s only one thing more cynical: their union collaborators. 

Where is the discussion of this diaspora? Doesn’t the country know that the domestic automotive industry is still a major economic engine? Can’t they hear it faltering, misfiring? The fat cats can be forgiven. It is their nature. But what of the rest of us? Are we content to let these captains of industry run aground? Can we not see that we will, inevitably, pay for the lifeboats?

Eventually, as Detroit’s Big Three sink beneath the waves, an entire country will despair. Entire communities will be left with anorexic paychecks and bulimic monthly payments. On the wider level, without a viable industrial base, Americans march forward, wading the more and more shallow wadis of service industries, hanging the legacy luggage to our children who will carry on the entitlements and interest payments for the Rising Dragon and their Sakura neighbors.    

We should fret and fume, not shrink and shrug, at the apathy and awkwardness whenever fingers get reluctant on the first obstacles of detailing or finalizing an assembly line. We should rip those wires out from game consoles and recreate a can-do garage culture. We should get those comics books out of schools and teach our children not to believe in promises, but the sweat of their own brow. We should tell them that success comes from five percent genius endlessly polished by perseverance.

Perhaps not. Perhaps we should stand back and let society learn the truth of the old maxim: the more painful the lesson, the more important it is. And just let it go. Knowing that we have met the enemy and now, in southern transplant enclaves, he is us. Hoping that a new Detroit will emerge from the ashes of its own incompetence. A Detroit that can renew its contract with the American dream, and wipe the tears from its supporters eyes.

For some people-– maybe not TTAC readers, but some people-– the cup holder is one of the most important parts of the car. Sure, torque between 4,000 and 6,000 rpms and brake fade are important. But when you’re crawling along at 15 mph with two antsy kids, your suspension’s settings simply don’t matter. The cup holder does.

Henry Petroski, Professor of Engineering and History at Duke University, North Carolina, wrote a piece (Drink Me – How Americans came to have cup holders in their cars) for Slate a few years ago. Petroski reported that he “repeatedly heard articulate people say that their family’s latest automobile purchase hinged on which cup holders worked best for them.” He traces the history of the device from indents in glove-box lids, through those hanging baskets in the JC Whitney catalogue, to the wells dug in almost every flat surface a modern interior offers. My Honda minivan as 49 cup holders. 

Petroski failed to address why cupholders are so important. For that, we need a cultural anthropologist like G. Clotaire Rapaille. Rapaille specializes in Jungian archetype analysis and its effect on the reptilian brain (not the brain of lizards, per se, but the oldest part of our human brains). By tuning into the unspoken needs at our core, Rapaille has helped huge conglomerates sell more cars, coffee, toilet paper and cheese.

Rapaille states “…what was the key element of safety when you were a child? It was that your mother fed you, and there was warm liquid. That’s why cup holders are absolutely crucial for safety. If there is a car that has no cup holder, it is not safe. If I can put my coffee there, if I can have my food, if everything is round, if it’s soft, and if I’m high, then I feel safe. It’s amazing that intelligent, educated women will look at a car and the first thing they will look at is how many cup holders it has.”

Cup holders hold the place of mother’s milk in our roving steel and glass wombs. It’s an utterly ridiculous idea… unless you consider the corroborating evidence.

University of California psychology professor Richard Coss is the father of evolutionary aesthetics, a concept he birthed in the late 70s. The idea is: part of your temporal lobes understands art emotionally and analytically. Deeper parts of your brain respond to art instinctively. To illustrate the point, Coss points to The Snake Goddess and Her Enemy by Paul Klee. People usually feel discomfort upon seeing the unblinking eyes and snake shapes. In our history, unblinking eyes and snakes have never been good things for our species. Death and death, really.

Around the same time Gordon Orians, at the University of Washington, studied how blackbirds choose where to live. He noticed humans also seem attracted to similar, specific features: presence of water, large trees, open space, distant views. Humans tend to like the savanna, where we did a good portion of our evolving. He did a study with paintings. The images that had the right mix of water, protection, vegetation and view were ranked highest again and again, across cultures. In the 30 years to follow, Coss and Orians’s work has been examined, analyzed, re-tested and (let’s go for it) substantiated.

Understanding the relative benefits of the environment is a skill with obvious evolutionary benefits. A skill that may have found it’s way into our hardwiring, and functions still, even as our concern shifts from safely navigating open plains to the contemplating the interior of the Land Rover trudging over it.

Accepting that we respond to automotive interiors on a subconscious level is even easier than explaining why chimps might like "A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte.” The feeling of a car is all important, whether you’re looking for a little risk or avoiding it altogether.

The new Infiniti EX is an intriguing example. By most standards of logic, this is not a great vehicle. It’s a less stable G35 for more money or, alternatively, an FX with less room. Get inside the thing and it doesn’t seem like a bad idea at all. Sitting in the EX is like retiring to your study. It offers everything the savanna does.

The EX’ round, undulating design is womb-like. Layers of leather are not vegetation, but certainly natural. The car gives you an extended view from a safe position. There is an organic flow that feels orderly and cozy. There is no trickling stream in the car-– the rational brain would kick your lizard brain and shake its head within a head – but there’s a cup holder for everyone. Front and back. 

Cup holders complete an interior, sometimes taking the whole car along for the ride.

The great hybrid showdown is coming. GM Car Czar Bob Lutz has thrown down the gauntlet: “We are headed for the OK Corral.” In fact, GM has staked its reputation on the Volt, intending to “leapfrog the Prius” and evoking America’s Apollo moon-shot program. Meanwhile, Toyota continues its domination of the alt power mindspace, finalizing their third generation Prius. While we prepare for the clash of the hybrids, let’s take a closer look at the contenders…

In the serial-hybrid corner: the Chevrolet Volt. Actually, GM prefers to call its gas -electric plug-in an “extended-range electric vehicle” or E-REV.

The Volt will feature a rechargeable 16kw lithium-ion battery pack. Its 120kw/160hp electric motor provides the motive power. A 53kw generator driven by an efficiency-optimized (non-E85) three-cylinder gasoline engine kicks-in when the batteries are depleted to a 30 percent state of charge (SOC). The Volt’s generator will then cycle as needed to keep the batteries within a targeted SOC range. Fuel economy– after initial charge depletion– is a projected 50mpg.

The Volt’s target price started at $30k. More recently, GM’s Car Czar declared that the Volt would sell for about $48k. The winner of TTAC’s annual Bob Lutz award reckons $40k might be possible “without making any profit.” For comparison purposes, we’ll assume an MSRP $44k.

GM has confirmed that the Volt’s first year production run will be limited to 10k units. After de-bugging, the number will rise to 100k and possibly beyond– depending on demand, how large a financial loss GM is willing to accept and for how long.

Even if the Volt’s batteries perform to specifications, GM’s initial promise of a forty-mile EV range has evaporated. GM now says continuous highway-speed driving will deplete the E-REV’s battery in “closer to 32 miles.” And that’s probably at the low end of typical highway speeds (as per the EPA highway cycle). A brisker freeway run, elevation gains, extreme temperatures and the use of heater, A/C and other electrical peripherals will all take their toll on the Volt’s range. It could easily descend into the twenties or… less.

Toyota will introduce their gen3 2010 Prius in January 2009. It will use a refined version of Toyota’s parallel Hybrid-Synergy drive (HSD), whereby electric and mechanically-transferred gasoline-engine propulsion are used individually as well as in various blended forms for propulsion.

Toyota has clearly stated goals for the gen3 Prius: reduced HSD-specific costs, weight reductions and most importantly, a targeted gain in efficiency of 15-20 percent. This should result in combined EPA mileage numbers of 53 – 55mpg (2008: 46mpg). Since average user mileage for gen2 Prius runs 42-44mpg, gen3 Prius should deliver real world mileage of 50+mpg.

The new Prius will have a more powerful electric motor and increased battery capacity, extending its limited EV-only range. Other refinements: improved aerodynamics, further efficiency gains in the Atkinson-cycle gas engine; and improved regenerative braking and hybrid system control.

For the first two years of production, Toyota will stick with the tried-and-proven NiMH batteries. In 2010, li-ion cells will go into volume production at Toyota’s battery supplier Panasonic. With the higher energy density of the li-ion pack, it’s safe to assume that the EV-only range of the base Prius will increase, perhaps double. This should further increase fuel efficiency, possibly to about 55mpg.

Additionally, there will be a plug-in Prius. Fleet tests start in 2010. If all goes well, volume production will begin the following year. Early versions will have a NiMH pack that will provide an EV range of about seven miles and an EV top speed of 62mph. When the definitive li-ion plug-in Prius arrives, its EV range could be some twenty miles.

Toyota has announced a 60 percent production increase for the gen3 Prius– from 280k units in 2007 to 450k in 2009 (worldwide). The car’s average transaction price should stay level, or possibly contract further. We’ll assume $22k for our comparisons. An educated guess at the price for the plug-in version: $30k.

Our comparison will encompass three primary criteria: owner economics, environmental benefits and “green cachet” (to both owner and manufacturer).

Hypothetical economic scenario one: six weekly round trips of 35 miles each. In this example, the Volt would never need a drop of gasoline (except for the occasional auto-programmed runs to cycle fuel and oil). If we inflation-adjust today’s electric rates, a recharge will average about one dollar. Annual “fuel” cost: $312.

A Prius would take 220 gallons of gas @ 50mpg to cover the same 11k miles. Assuming $4/gallon in 2011, annual fuel cost is $880. The Volt’s $22k purchase premium over the Prius would take 39 years to amortize. A $40k “subsidized” Volt would take a mere 32 years. These calculations don’t include interest, either on the higher purchase price of the Volt, or on the money saved (opportunity cost). 

Even if we slash electric rates in half, to 50 cents a charge, it would still take over thirty years to amortize the Volt’s higher purchase price. Comparing the Volt to the plug-in Prius is even less favorable to the Chevy: it would take 58 years to recoup the Volt’s $14k price differential.

Scenario Two: a short daily commute of twelve miles round trip (3744 miles annually) and an additional 3744 miles on long-distance trips @ 50mpg. The Volt’s total annual combined “fuel” cost is $400. The regular Prius’ annual fuel cost is $600. It would take 110 years to amortize the Volt. And the plug-in Prius, which can make the short commute all-electrically, trumps the Volt altogether, with fuel costs of $372. And it costs $14k less.

Scenario three: a long-distance commute with a daily round trip of seventy miles, plus 6k of long-distance miles (23.5k annual total). The Volt’s fuel costs run $1465 annually. The Prius’ are $1880, resulting in a 53 year payback for the Volt. And the plug-in Prius accomplishes the task with a $1488 fuel bill, only $23 more than the Volt (609 year payback!).

Scenario two and three point out the Volt’s two biggest weaknesses: its expensive and heavy battery pack becomes increasingly less cost-effective when its maximum range is not fully utilized (Scenario 2). And its serial hybrid drive is no more efficient (if anything, somewhat less so) at continuous highway speed than Toyota’s HSD (Scenario 3). The Volt’s efficiency losses of generation, conversion, battery storage, re-conversion to AC, and electric drive-motor losses equal or exceed the minimal efficiency loss of the Prius’ mechanical transmission.

All of the above scenarios point out the glaring economic disadvantage of the Volt due to its high cost. Its price would have to come down to $28k to justify a (barely) reasonable ten-year payback in the Volt-optimal Scenario One, and substantially less for the others.

Plug-ins clearly are not about the economics, because even the plug-in Prius (@$30k) has a payback of between 24 and 35 years versus the regular $22k Prius in the above three scenarios.

A comparison and analysis of the environmental-social benefits of hybrids versus plug-ins quickly becomes complicated, due to the variable sources of electricity (high or low carbon content). But the over-arching issue of total (cumulative) gas savings offers some simpler answers.

Aggregate gas savings are much more readily and cost-effectively accomplished through large numbers of conventional hybrids (Prius) than small numbers of somewhat more efficient but much more costly plug-ins. Toyota’s 2009 production of about 500k Priora (@ 50mpg) will save 120 million gallons of gasoline compared to a like number of 25mpg conventional mid-sized sedans, at little or no incremental cost.

But 100k Volts produced per year at an adjusted/equivalent 100mpg save only 36m gallons over the 25mpg car, and a mere 120k gallons over a like number of Priora; in both cases at an incremental cost of some $22 million. Smaller gains in economy spread over a large number of vehicles always delivers a much greater cumulative savings than a small number of super-high efficiency cars.

Even if plug-in hybrids are driven on cycles that maximize their EV range, greenhouse gas (GHG) reductions are surprisingly modest, and highly dependent on the carbon-intensity of the electric source. A new study by Carnegie Mellon shows that unless plug-ins are matched to low-carbon electric sources, GHG emission gains (compared to conventional hybrids) are minimal, and negative in some circumstances.

These and a number of other objective criteria clearly suggest that finite public (and private) resources are best spent in the expansion of existing high-efficiency hybrids, like the Prius and the upcoming new lower-cost Honda hybrid sedan, rather than exotic and expensive limited-production vehicles like the Volt– at least until li-ion battery prices drop dramatically. Meanwhile, GM does not have a Prius-like hybrid to sell, or in the planning stages.

Objective criteria are not the main reason for the GM’s “moon shot” investment in the Volt. When it comes to “green bragging rights,” the Volt may well out-score the Prius– at least for GM and its eager cadre of early adopters. If the final styling is both distinctive and has “it” (like the concept), if the Hollywood crowd adopts it as their newest green baby, if the words “plug-in” or “E-REV” supersede plain-old “hybrid” in green-speak, the Volt could become THE car of the green-tinged moment.

But let’s be clear: both eco-consciousness and the Toyota Prius have moved beyond fads, into fully blown trends. (Federal legislation sealed the deal.) The Chevy Volt and the Toyota Prius must ultimately compete in the automotive mainstream, where the Volt is at a supreme price disadvantage. Unless GM is willing to heavily subsidize the Volt for many years, no matter how good it is, the Prius will kick its ass.