Ladies' Home Journal, Parenting, Better Homes & Gardens, In Style, Cookie Magazine, Cooking Light, Domino, Health, Home, Nick Jr. Magazine, Pregnancy, Self, Working Mother and Babytalk. In case you were thinking Mr. Karesh's review of the new all-new Dodge Caravan indicated that Chrysler is targeting its Man-Van at a male demographic, those are the mags that will feature ads for the people mover. And yet, this Sunday, right in the heart of NFL TV time, The Dodge Boys are running ads showing Man-Van family bonding (with Dad at the helm) to entice "young families" into their Caravan of love. Is Dodge having problems with its sexuality? Perhaps. Remember the brouhaha about the Dodge Caliber, the fairy and the [alleged] fairy? Another clue: at the same time it's rolling out it's Man-Van, Dodge is introducing their new tagline. They're trading "Grab Your Package And Drive a Muy Macho Dodge You Horny Bastard" (or something like that) to the deeply androgynous "Grab Life." Yes, and then what?

Bad branding was one of the prominent themes of TTAC’s 2006 Ten Worst Automobiles Today (TWAT) awards. No fewer than four vehicles on the list were derided for their corrosive effect on their brand. Ahead of our ’07 rundown (so to speak), RF has thrown a spear at Lexus’ decision to launch a performance-oriented F-Series sub-brand. The publisher claims a hot shit Lexus derivative is bad branding on wheels. So will a Lexus’ F-Series eventually find a place in TTAC’s Hall of Shame, or is it simply a case of line extension done right? 

Some thinkers claim that brand identification is a survival instinct. “Don’t eat the yellow frogs-– you’ll die” has become “Drive a Trabant and you won’t make it to work and your family will starve to death.” In that sense, branding is a learned response that’s passed down through the generations. “Like my pa and his pa before him, I am a Chevy man. Son, urinate on that Tundra.” Taking it a step further, branding can help an individual pass on his or her genes. “Yeah, but he drives a Super Bee!”  

Ultimately, branding is so strong because humans need it. The human body, especially the brain, tends toward efficiency. It’s much more efficient to remember a single brand icon– which represents impressions of quality, value and prestige– than keeping track of the thousands of variables that constitute a car. Some might call this intellectual laziness. I disagree. Analyzing every jot of information from the world around us is immobilizing. Utilizing well-developed brand constructs is a frequently reliable shortcut that allows us to think and act quickly.

People get grouchy when companies mess with well-established brand constructs because it disrupts the efficiency of our thinking. We rebel when Ford produces a pickup under the Lincoln moniker because it screws with our notion that Lincoln should make big cushy luxury cars.  Brand confusion results when a product is marketed that’s so different from our on-board expectations that it defies logical accommodation. The abominable LT forces us to rethink our inner definition of what “Lincoln” means.

If car buying were coldly logical, everyone would be driving the equivalent of a fleet car. Halo cars work because they strengthen emotional bonds that people develop for vibrant brands. People tend to cheer for the success of brands they love the same way they root for their favorite sports team. They feel vindicated when their team wins and are disgusted when they lose.

Is a “Chevy guy” more likely to buy a Monte Carlo just because Chevy makes the Corvette? Absolutely!  Okay, not the Monte Carlo. But they are more likely to stay within the Chevy family if they can’t afford the Vette because they are more likely to believe that the same engineering goodness that goes into the 505hp LS7 engine somehow blessed the lump of iron under their own car’s hood.

But Lexus is a brand without automotive quintessence. It lacks history. Its styling cues hail from images associated with other automaker’s cars.  An open cockpit wood-spoked Lexus never raced over grassy lanes through the English countryside.  JFK never rode in the back of a Lexus. No revered designers named Enzo or Ferry ever worked for Lexus creating disruptive technology innovations that fundamentally redefined what a car is.

Lexus’ place in the mind of buyers is dependent on its archetype: Mercedes. Lexus is the sensible alternative to German luxury cars for one-third less money, with Toyota reliability. By itself, Lexus doesn’t exist in terms of definitive automotive performance or ride characteristics. So the company can safely extend its line following successful Teutonic templates– as long as it adheres to price point and reliability expectations.

By producing sportier cars, Toyota’s premium brand isn’t experimenting with a F-atal F-oray downmarket. The highway is littered with the bones of companies that made this mistake (Cadillac, Jaguar and even Mercedes). Neither is the circle-L making a play up market into exotic car pricing. Volkswagen illustrated the F-olly of that thinking. While I have not seen pricing on the F-Series, I expect is will be a F-raction of AMG; somewhere safely in the realm of one-half to two-thirds of the price of Stuttgart’s monster-engined luxobarges.

The first generation Lexus SC touring coupe has served as a performance-oriented placeholder in my mind for what kind of car the Lexus brand represents. There is no danger or dishonor in upping the performance level on this or any other Lexus-branded machine, provided it maintains the core values that brought Lexus the success it so richly deserves.

An F-optioned Lexus will be just that: an option. It will not confuse or distract or disappoint the brand’s “core” followers if only because they won’t buy it. In short, the exceptional Supra failed as a Toyota. I welcome its reincarnation as a Lexus.

Carmakers spend millions of dollars on producing concept cars for the Frankfurt Auto Show et. al. But what is a concept car? Is it something a car company is going to do, wants to do, or might one day do? Yes. There are three main categories: teasers (cars that will eventually hit the market in castrated form), styling exercises (masturbatory, image-building efforts that showcase a carmaker's abilities) and science fiction (the shape of things not to come). Needless to say, teasers first.

Ford's Verve may be a tease, but it sure left me feeling satisfied. The model’s lean proportions and aggressive stance are four-wheeled foreplay, while the detailing shows a masterful grasp of sex appeal. Check out those flush aluminum window frames and the interior lighting straight from a high-class mobile phone. I’m sure we’ll see elements of the Verve on the forthcoming Fiesta and Ka, hopefully without birthing a bastard. Cigarette?

Speaking of teases, it seem like the “new” Chevy Camaro has been playing peek-a-boo since John F. Kennedy told Berliners he was a jelly donut. Although the convertible version shown in Frankfurt is fresh, there’s a fine line between a permanent tease and a damn bore. Transformer? I’m done with her. In contrast, Honda's Accord Tourer Concept is practically a done deal, set for introduction in 2008. It is a super-clean design that wanders over the aesthetic border into sterility– not unlike generic-Japanese cars of the 1990s.

BMW thinks its ready-for-’08 X6 is a "completely new kind of car." Ja, it’s part sports car, part SUV. The official description sounds like the beginning a bad joke, but people who don't know what kind of car they want (except that they want a BMW) will take it seriously enough to keep the factory humming. Unlike the majority of this century’s Bangled Bimmers, the X6 isn’t ugly. But I couldn’t find anything particularly likeable in this escapee from Dr. Moreau's island.

Mitsubishi’s Concept-cX showcar may be equally conflicted, but the execution is pretty darn good for an undead company. The cX has Scion’s typography and lots of Mitsubishi styling cues, such as the Lancer's shark's mouth. It’s also slathered in “Green Plastic;” a polymer made from bamboo stolen from hungry pandas. Anyway, the cX certainly improves on the Suzuki SX-4 which inspired it.

VW salesmen pining for the word “Up!” get their own car. Its slab sides and unimaginative design evoke the spirit [sic] of the existing Polo. It reminds me of Ulla in "The Producers,” who likes to "tidyy oop!" apartments (if only because I’m easily distracted). Sadly, the Up! is no four-wheeled Uma Thurman. With its rear-engine design, it probably won't drive as well, either.

The contrast to Toyota's iQ Concept couldn't be larger (smaller?). Toyota’s iQ is about the size of a Smart (go figure), looks more modern, seats three adults and one sprog (or four Oompa-Loompas) and shares crucial design clues with the Auris and Yaris.   

Fellow columnist Jay Shoemaker is right: the Mercedes F-700 is a hit (and no, it doesn't use hydrogen fuel cell technology). Whether or not the DiesOtto engine (1.8-liter, 258hp) ever comes to fruition, the next, or next-to-next S-Class Mercedes, looks stunning. There's some HR Giger evilness to it, which is a good idea for a plutocrat's car. Inside, there’s none of the present S-class' grandfatherly design clues.

The detailing of the cross-town rival BMW’s CS concept is difficult in parts. Do we really want scalloped arches above the rear wheels? It does look appropriately long and swoopy though. If the replacement for the current 7-Series looks likes this, then we won't bitch (as much).

Another pleasantly evil design for 2012: the Nissan Mixim. It dark, geometric style is all about the Vader. Which is exactly the way a small car should look: easy on the Chihuahua, heavy on the Death Star. The Mixim boasts three-abreast seating, a wraparound video screen and lots of origami detailing.

The Koreans are on a [pletzel] roll, and they have the concepts to prove it. The Kia Kee [first image] copies some elements of the Audi Awwwww– I mean, R8. But it’s a good idea of a sports car for 2010. And the Hyundai iBlue is a good (if blurry) vision of a one-box people-carrier of the future: large yet approachable.

Yes, the future is one-box– at least that’s what science fiction movies have been saying for the past 15 years. And thus, GM/Opel's Flextreme (take THAT Ford Flex and Mr. Funkmaster) provides the usual Sci-Fi elements: opposite-opening doors, low sills, flexible seating. We've seen it all before, but it looks pretty good when executed this well. One question, though: will all cars in the future have Segways coming out of their butts?

In an article this past June, I looked at the disconnect between what some politicians say about automobiles, fuel mileage and the environment, and what they drive.   Exhibit A: presidential hopeful Barak Obama. Mr. Obama famously berated the Detroit Economic Club about Motown’s opposition to tighter fuel economy standards– with a Chrysler 300C stashed in his garage. The instant the media exposed this hypocrisy, Obama traded his Hemi-powered luxobarge for the PC pol’s pal: a Ford Escape Hybrid. That got me wondering what our other national leaders might have parked in their garages…

As TTAC’s resident numbers wonk, I was looking forward to tabulating a list of cars that our members of Congress drive. I’d then cross-reference it by party affiliation and auto industry involvement. Just for fun, I’d track down their voting record on issues like fuel economy and emission standards and see how they match up. (Yeah, I know. I need to get a life.) So I wrote a letter to every U.S. Senator, thinking I’d write the members of the House of Representatives at a later date.

I respectfully introduced myself and this website, and explained my request. “I’m working on an article on the personal transportation choices of our national leaders [which] will reveal the automotive taste and style of our most important congressmen and women.” I asked for the make, model and year of the vehicle or vehicles they drive for work, and which cars they own personally (registered both in their own or their spouse’s name). I also asked for their approximate yearly mileage.

After printing 99 letters (this was right after Senator Thomas of Wyoming passed away), licking 99 envelopes and affixing 99 stamps, I dropped the missives in a mailbox and waited. And waited. And waited. A little over three weeks later, I received an email from the “Office of Senator Saxby Chambliss.”

Thank you for contacting me regarding your website. It is good to hear from you.

I am flattered that you have chosen to include me in your article on the personal transportation choices of national leaders. However, because of my public status, I am unable to answer personal questions such as these.

I wish you the best of luck with your article and your website, and if I can ever be of assistance in the future, please do not hesitate to let me know.

I suspect the fact that I’m a Georgia resident– eligible to vote for Senator Chambliss the next time he’s up for reelection– inspired the politician to become the sole exception to Senatorial automotive omerata.  I repeat: no other United States Senator deigned to respond to my simple request for information.

Could it be, as Sen. Chambliss’ email implies, that the Senators’ personal transportation is a matter of national security? I can understand a Senator not wanting to identify his/her specific family car because of security concerns, but I didn’t ask for anything that would uniquely identify their vehicle, such as a license plate number or color. Likewise, knowing what kind of car a U.S. Senator leases (or the GSA provides) for “official business” doesn’t exactly sound like NSA-quality information.

In fact, the U.S. Government Printing Office prepares reports on the subject: "Statement of Disbursements of the House" and "Report of the Secretary of the Senate.” They list expenditures– including transportation expenses such as automobile leases– for all members of Congress. However, these reports aren’t posted on line. And the most recent version of the Senate report in the GPO bookstore dates back to 2003. So even though it’s published twice a year, the information isn’t easily accessible to the public.

So what’s with the veil of secrecy over our political employees’ transportation choices?  My guess: they don’t want to be “Obama’d.” Given the recent media fascination with fuel conservation, carbon footprints, alternative fuels and the trade deficit, our elected representatives can’t risk the general public finding out that they or their families drive SUVs, gas-guzzling luxobarges or (gasp!) a car produced by a foreign-owned automaker.

It wouldn’t be the first time a member of Congress was caught with their pants down (so to speak) doing something contradictory to what they’ve said on the record. Fool them once? Anyway, it beggars belief that the men and women who are seeking to guide the automotive destiny for tens of millions of Americans, who will write the laws that will control the fate of one of our most important industries, would shrug off any idea of personal accountability. 

I’ve decided not to write the members of the House; I don’t want spend $170 on postage to be ignored again. If any of you know what your federal reps drive, please post it in a comment below. In the meantime I’ll keep digging. 

If you’re a gearhead monitoring the international media, you’d be forgiven for thinking the Frankfurt Auto Show was run by and for Friends of the Earth. Low-emission Mercedes! Low-consumption VWs! Hydrogen Kias! Ethanol Saabs! Non-existent plug-in hybrids! A casual visitor to this event might wonder if he’d gone to the wrong show. Why is it that all the interesting new cars premiering in Frankfurt are non-green? Why do people crowd around sexy new cars such as the 1-Series BMW, while nobody (save the press) gather ‘round the various not-quite-developed Mueslimobiles? 

Frankfurt’s eco-mania a sign of the times I suppose, when it’s not enough to do well; you have to be seen to be doing good. Well good for them. As for me and my fellow pistonheads, we’re more interested in the more exciting not-so-very-PC fare: sexy new sheetmetal concepts and machines ready to leave donut marks on any road paved with good intentions.

Let's start with the car that thousands of North Americans Bimmer fans are lusting for: the BMW 1-Series Coupe. I had to touch base with my inner pedant to think of any niggles… Since when is the two-door sedan version of a hatchback called a Coupe? Why does a small sports car have to have electric seats, electric sunroof, electric everything? Surely there’s a better play: make it all manual and charge the snot out of Bimmer’s long-suffering optionistas. Otherwise, the 1 could be The One: Neo– I mean, Bangle’s best.

The new Audi A4 is another sure-fire hit. Ingolstadt’s once entry-level model oozes sophistication in an entirely A5 kinda way. The exterior has grown more elegant and substantial. The car's new architecture, with the engine moved back for better handling and a shorter snout, promises a better drive. If it works as well as it looks, then I predict a runaway success.

Audi interiors still set the bar. Anyone coveting a Cadillac CTS’ cabin should have seen the envious looks non-Audi executives were giving the cabin as they stood in line to sit inside.

I can't predict such success for the new Jaguar XF. Sure, it looks OK. As a relative to the new, long and wide Ford Mondeo, it has a nice stance. But is it special enough to put Jaguar back on its pedestal? If it drives better than  the competition, then we will say congrats to Jag, and good riddance to retro styling. Otherwise, thumbs down.

Speaking of Mondeo-related, I liked the new Mazda6. The design is suffused with Lexus-like elements, but it’s so anonymous that it’s almost invisible. (Did I say “but?” Perhaps I should have said “and.”) Nobody really seemed to care about the poor thing. There it sat. Unappreciated. Unloved. Under-admired. Ready to kick ass in the marketplace.

The new Cadillac BLS Station Wagon would probably be happy to be anonymous. Does anybody have the foggiest idea of what GM is thinking with this thing? I'll be ****** if I do, but let’s speculate.

First stage: uh, let's do a small Cadillac and sell it in Europe– no harm in that, right? If that doesn’t work, we can also not sell it in Mexico and South Africa. Second stage: Nobody is buying the BaconLettuceSalami, so let's slip a FIAT diesel up front. Chapter three: the BuLlShit is still a flop, so let's try a station wagon. Jeez, what's next, a BLSamino pickup truck just for our friends at Jalopnik? This is a car that nobody asked for, or ever will.

Moving from the sublime to the ridiculous, I was curious to check out the new Fiat 500. They’re advertising it with the slogan "You Are, We Car.” No; it’s not one of those bi-lingual in-flight magazine translations. It’s supposed to be enigmatically cute. I wanted to feed– I mean like the 500, but the We Car’s inside is cramped and gimmicky and the whole thing is not even as nouveau retro as the old New Beetle.

And that is about it. Yes there is a Mini Clubman, which is about as exciting as a mini club sandwich. And Mercedes served-up a C-Class Station Wagon, which has enough carrying capacity to transport a decade’s worth of C-Class Station Wagon brochures. VW’s got a mini-SUV for those who STILL don’t get it, and a pleasant Skoda station wagon for those who do.

Next up: concept cars. Guess how many are green themed?

During my brief stint in British advertising, I had the distinct pleasure of working with one Paul Harvey Douglas. Paul was the world’s best headline writer. He could distill an entire advertising campaign down to a single sentence, a phrase, a word. I wonder what PHD would have made of Lexus' ad for its new F-Series automobiles. “What is F?” the two-page Autoweek center spread asks. “F is everything you thought we weren’t,” it answers. I could almost hear Paul’s derisive snort. “F means their brand’s in ‘effing trouble,” he would have pronounced. Too right, mate.

Let’s start by parsing the imagery. I have no idea what the smoke drifting through the heart of the “teaser” ad is supposed to mean. It’s not, as savvy enthusiasts might expect, tire smoke. It looks more like cigarette smoke. More specifically, advertising cigarette smoke. You know: the kind of photo-shopped psychedelic smouldering that’s been carefully crafted to hide nightmarish images that stimulate your subconscious desire to, uh, smoke.

After copious quantities of Clos De Bois, I can make out a dragon’s head, a couple of demonic faces and a Toucan-beaked hoodie-wearing beastie. And I feel a strange desire to fire-up a doobie. Anyway, the background above the horizontal plume is elegantly pin-striped, like a City gentleman’s business suit. The background below is jet black. As “F” is Lexus’ new performance sub-brand, the change is a subconscious signal that Lexus is about to offer both baby Bentleys and supersonic stealth bombers.

So here we have an ad that clearly signals Toyota’s intention to take the idea of Lexus as provider of floaty-drifty sarcophagi-on-wheels to America’s well-moneyed set and burn it in the same furnace the Vatican uses when the Cardinals get together to elevate one of their own to God’s CEO. Presumably, when you see the white [demon-filled] smoke rising heavenwards, you’ll know Lexus has been reborn, ready to kick some major league sports sedan ass.

Why? Why does Lexus need to build a sports or even a sporty car? I asked this question before, after attempting to cane the thoroughly unrewarding IS 350. I’ll ask it again. How many customers walk into a Lexus dealer thinking right, THIS is the place where I’ll finally find a car that’ll blow the doors off an M3 on the Nürburgring! That’s a bit like rocking-up to your local Volkswagen dealer looking for a $95k luxury sedan. Or heading over to a Porsche dealer for an SUV. Or journeying to a Chevy dealer for a $60k sports car.

Don’t get me wrong: those are all wonderful cars. And I know Mercedes’ in-house performance division sells more $100k+ automobiles than any other manufacturer in the world. But that doesn’t mean they should. In fact, the fact that they have may have had a little something to do with the fact that Lexus’ LS is kicking Mercedes S-Class in the ass (the score so far: 23.4k to 17.5k).

I also understand that you kinda expect a Lexus to offer at least modicum of body control and a soupcon of genuine forward thrust. But that’s because you’re a pistonhead. For the vast majority of Lexus buyers, it’s all about rock solid build quality, sumptuous materials, tomb-like silence, obsequious service, snob appeal and mindless wafting. IF the average Lexus customer thought about it, they’d probably think that the idea of a sporty Lexus is… confusing. And that’s because it is.

In fact, let’s say you weren’t a pistonhead and didn’t know that F is supposed to be the new M. If you read the AutoWeek ad headline literally– “F is everything you thought we weren’t”– you’d have to think a Lexus F is going to be cheap, nasty, loud, uncomfortable and unreliable. And that would make the new F Lexus’ evil twin. You don’t have to Google Garth Knight to know how THAT plot line turns out. 

In short, the whole Lexus F thing is what branding experts would call The Mother of All Stupid Ideas. And there’s only one reason why a brand so strong my appliance installer called my new Kitchen Maid the “Lexus of dishwashers” would want to launch an anti-brand brand: boredom. I firmly believe that halo cars, sporting sub-brands and wacky brand digressions are simply a way for bored executives to avoid facing the long, tough, often dull slog that good branding– and product development– requires.

If Toyota wanted to build Porsche-killers, it should have created a new brand. Of course, Lexus’ decision to take its eye firmly off the ball is good news for its competition. Well, it would be if the other luxury automobile brands weren’t making the same mistakes: too many models at too many price points, too many genres, conflicting subdivisions, etc. At this point, Ferrari, Maserati and Bentley are the ones to watch. At the moment, they’re everything you think they are. 

[Listen to branding guru Al Reis discuss Lexus' F below] 

August's U.S. sales results are in. Upon their release, GM crowed about their market-bucking triumph– neglecting to mention the fact that 25 percent of those sales sailed with the fleets. Meanwhile, Chrysler blamed its sales decline on diminished fleet flogging. Ford was "encouraged by sales of their crossover vehicles" (i.e. stuck in the dog house). And Toyota pinned their sales drop on the subprime lending crisis and a supply-line-interrupting Japanese earthquake. Whatever. Bottom line: August wasn't kind to many of the models we're tracking on your behalf.

Passenger Cars

Despite GM's hefty commercial sales, their Chevrolet Impala fleet queen fell 4.5 percent below last August's sales total. Year-to-date (YTD), Impala sales rose 14.8 percent over 2006. Chrysler must have stopped dumping 300s into the fleets; sales plunged almost 23 percent from last August, down 15 percent YTD. The Ford Fusion dropped 19 percent from last August, although holding steady with a 0.38 percent YTD increase. Camry sales leveled off, up one percent over last August. The longer-term trend is upwards, with a 7.3 percent increase YTD. 

Pickup Trucks

After ramping up Silverado incentives, the pickup's sales picked up by 16K units from last August. While that's a whopping 31 percent surge, YTD they're down 2.2 percent. Huge rebates didn't help the Dodge Ram; sales fell 5.5 percent, down 1.3 percent YTD. Ford offered small-to-moderate rebates on their F-Series pickups, failing to forestall a 9.9 percent tumble, dragging the model down 12 percent YTD. 

Toyota backed off incentives on Tundra. Sales dropped by 5K units from July to August. But the new Tundra is still kicking the old Tundra's ass. Sales rose 69 percent from last August, up 58 percent YTD. 

Truck-Based SUVs

Sales of "traditional" SUVs continue to slide as fuel-conscious consumers make the move to CUVs and family sedans. Sales of Chevrolet's Tahoe went down by eight percent from last August, 14.8 percent YTD. The Dodge Durango plunged 41 percent from last August, down 27 percent year to date. The Ford Explorer's drop wasn't quite as precipitous but it was still down 26 percent from last August and 23 percent YTD. Toyota 4Runner sales were actually up slightly, rising one percent from last August. But they're still down 18.4 percent YTD. 

CUVs

As predicted, SUV refugees are igniting sales of CUVs; as the former drops, the latter rises. The Chevrolet Equinox helped power GM's August increase with a 13.5 percent gain. That said, Equinox sales fell by 23 percent YTD. Chrysler's Pacifica continues to tempt the executioner's blade, with sales down 48 percent from last August and 27.6 percent YTD.  

Ford continues to pin its hopes on the Escape. It didn't fail them. Sales of FoMoCo's cute-ute rose by 4.4 percent over last August, up 3.2 percent year to date. The redesigned-for-‘07 Toyota RAV-4 continues to sell well; August sales were up by 11 percent, 13 percent YTD. 

New Models

All three of our new-for-07 models had been dropping since May. All three showed some recovery in August. The GMC Acadia picked up almost 200 additional sales from July– but still clocked in some 3.2K below May's peak. Even so, the Acadia remains the most popular of GM's Lambda-platform CUVs, selling 5.8K in August (vs. Enclave's 3.8K and Outlook's 3.2K). The Ford Edge and Jeep Compass both showed strong gains over July, each selling around 1100 additional units.  

Total Sales

As most anyone who follows the auto industry knows, GM's total sales were up six percent from the same month last year. However, even with that strong sales spurt, they're down 7.4 percent YTD, with production cuts set to slice both sales and share even deeper. 

Chrysler's down six percent from last August, down 14 percent YTD. While decreased fleet sales certainly played a part in the decline, we're thinking a combination of uncertainty over the future of the company and a truck/SUV-heavy product line were more significant factors.  

Ford's in a similar situation and their numbers show it. The Blue Oval Boyz' August sales sank by 14.4 percent; a 12.5 percent drop YTD. Proving that even a perennial sales champ isn't entirely immune to market forces and economic meta-fluctuations, Toyota's August sales dropped 2.8 percent. But they're still up 4.9 percent YTD. 

The Future

GM's set to introduce their latest Hail Mary model: the Chevrolet Malibu. Honda's refreshed Accord should keep the ‘Bu from conquesting quality-conscious buyers, and gives Toyota's Camry buyers something to think about. 

Chrysler's in flux; their new CEO's still figuring out what to keep and what to cut. Ford's still relying on their truck/SUV/CUV lineup to carry them. And Toyota's juggernaut chugs on.

All of them (and the rest) are sailing straight into economic headwinds. It's been a tough year for the U.S. auto industry– that's about to get a whole lot tougher.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Facing falling membership, the United Auto Workers (UAW) is rapidly expanding into non-automotive industries like education and health care. Meanwhile, the UAW continues its full-court press against Toyota and Honda's American factories. So far, the union's attempts to transplant unionism into the transplants' plants have been an abject failure. But try they must. And now there's a new object of their affections: Japanese parts maker DENSO.

Sean McAlinden, analyst for the Center for Automotive Research, outlines the target– and the stakes. "For the survival of the union, they have to start organizing the Toyota system in North America. Right at the head of the line is DENSO.''  

DENSO is Japan's largest auto-parts company. Twenty-one percent of DENSO's total $31.1b annual sales come from North America. Stateside, DENSO has ten factories in six states employing over 6,800 [non-union] employees. DENSO supplies all three U.S. automakers and Toyota (which owns 23 percent of the company). In North America, 45 percent of their business lies with The Big 2.8. And here's where the plot thickens.

The Big 2.8 are currently negotiating their UAW contracts. One of their main goals: dump transfer responsibility for retirees' health care onto the union via a union-administered Voluntary Employees' Beneficiary Association (VEBA) superfund. The union is fully aware that Wall Street is hot for the deal, which means the automakers want the VEBA more than anything else (save sales). The UAW is using this leverage to their full advantage.

U.S. labor laws allow employers to openly campaign against a union's attempts to organize their workers. UAW negotiators have threatened to oppose a VEBA unless the U.S. auto manufacturers pressure DENSO to "remain neutral" while the UAW tries to organize their workers. 

According to Bloomberg, General Motors has indicated a willingness to roll over do as the union asks. No surprise there: GM has the most to gain from a UAW-run VEBA (and the most to lose if they don't set one up). The jury's still out on Ford's and Chrysler's reaction. But let's face it: if a mobster was leaning on sports promoter to pressure a fighter into taking a dive, it would be called  extortion. Apparently, when the union does the same sort of thing, it's called "negotiation."

No matter what you call, this does not bode well. If The Big 2.8 are doing business with DENSO, it's because DENSO can supply the best parts for the lowest price. Applying pressure to DENSO could triger a counter-strike (so to speak). While 45 percent of DENSO's North American business comes from Detroit, that's 45 percent of the 21 percent of the company's total business that's done in North America, or just over 10 percent of the total. If DENSO tells the UAW's Detroit puppets to go pound sand, the company retains 90 percent of their current business. Safe!

But not so safe for Detroit. How long do you think it would take GM and Friends to find other suppliers, and how many UAW production lines do you think they'd have to shut down in the interim?

Alternatively, DENSO could agree to step aside and allow the UAW to plunder organize its workers. The cost of the parts they produce will rise accordingly. The Big 2.8 are complaining that union labor costs are driving them out of business. If Detroit's looking for ways to cut production costs and increase profits, forcing their suppliers into a situation where they'll have to charge more probably isn't a helpful strategy.

Hopefully, GM and the others will come to their senses and refuse to play the UAW's game. If they give on this one, they'll show the UAW how desperate they are. They'll signal the UAW that they're willing to be the union's bitch in other power struggles. But The Big 2.8 want that VEBA so bad it hurts. So is it damned if they do, damned if they don't? More like same old, same old. Once again, it's a question of short-term versus long-term thinking. 

If there's one thing American automakers need to learn, it's how to say no to those forces that have steered them onto the edge of the abyss, and hold fast for a brighter future. While there's no doubt that GM, Ford and Chrysler need to rethink their own role in creating their current predicament, acquiescing to the union's ambitions at this critical stage of the game would be like cutting off their nose so they can smell better. Going along to get along didn't work then. It won't work now.

The House that Henry Built was close to ruin when Junior Bill fell on his sword to bounce Boeing’s best to The Blue Oval. One year later, BusinessWeek (BW) gives FoMoCo CEO Alan Mulally an A-. And yet the reaper’s blade still hangs over Dearborn. And Mulally still toils to prove that his first year’s effort was worth $133.55 per minute (based on a 60 hour work week). Meanwhile, surveying the lay of the land post-Mulally, we reckon BW’s senior correspondent had more than sweetened tumbâk in his hookah when he penned this report card.

David Kiley grades the new CEO in seven categories: Profit and Loss, Restructuring Savvy, Products, Marketing, Personnel, Culture Change, and The Vision Thing. While Kiley’s overall mark might be correct, he gets most of the individual scores wrong; grading high where Mulally struggles and low where he shines.

The biggest gaff is the A Kiley bestows for Profit and Loss. It’s based on the $750m profit that NYSE:F booked for its second quarter. That same 10-Q report showed that the earnings were buoyed in part by the one-time sale of Aston Martin. Palming-off Auntie Aston netted the struggling automaker $187m in profit, infusing nearly $1b in cash into Ford’s corporate coffers.

Ford’s positive second quarter is hardly evidence of a turnaround. As Kiley sticks a gold star on Mulally’s forehead for P&L brilliance, he acknowledges that Ford expects to record a full year loss for 2007 and 2008 before turning a full year profit (pretty please) in 2009. Selling Aston Martin was an overdue obligation, not an insightful act reflecting CEO enlightenment.

My grade for P&L: B. This assessment is propped-up by benefit of the doubt, since it’s too soon to be ascribing Ford’s [potential] financial performance to anything Big Al initiated during his first 365 days.

Mulally also earns the top mark from BusinessWeek for Products. Does this mean Ford finally has a replacement for the aging, uncompetitive US Focus? Don’t be silly. Kiley writes, “Mulally, of course, hasn’t had time to bring any new products to market… But Mulally has busted through the Ford culture and structure of regional fiefdoms that created waste and duplication throughout its global enterprise, and bedeviled his predecessors.” 

For this he gets an A? Ford’s American product pipeline is bone dry. In ’09, dealers will see a refreshed F-150, a reskinned Ford Fusion and Lincoln MKZ, and the “new” Lincoln MKS and Flex. And that’s it. Aside from renaming and fixing some of the worst bits of a poor-selling Taurus and its badge-engineered bretheren, nothing has changed down at the showroom… lately. Or will… soon. My score for Products: a C-.

It’s easily argued that challenging the automaker’s recalcitrant corporate culture has been Mulally’s greatest impact thus far. Yet BusinessWeek bestows a paltry ‘B+’.

During his tenure, Mulally has attacked the bureaucratic plaque that has slowly strangled the company’s lifeblood. Executive managers have been shaken from their organizational silos. Big Al meets with his executive committee daily and forbids them from hiding behind reams of financial reports. Executive must be fluent with their operational metrics and fiscal results. Most of all, Mr. Mulally has introduced a concept forgotten long ago by the insular silver haired boardroom Town Car jockeys. It’s a term familiar to the rest of the working world: accountability.

His influence has sent tremors of discontent throughout the gilded good ole boy network, delighting the few remaining FoMoCo ideologues who want to get back to the business of making great cars. More needs to be accomplished; I’d like to see some high-profile firings and organizational shakeups. But for a first year effort in the face of systemic opposition, Mulally deserves a resounding A.

Lest I be accused of harboring feelings of ill will toward BusinessWeek, let me point out that I fully agree with their conclusions regarding Mulally’s Restructuring Savvy (B+), Marketing (B), and Personnel (B-).

BW’s final assessment: FoMoCo’s new chief deserves an A for The Vision Thing. Certainly, some hope has been restored within The House of Ford, stemming from the former Boeing exec’s efforts to reform the culture and from its [fleeting] recent financial results. While this hope is fundamental to motivating the organization toward success, we have only seen baby steps towards recovery.

In year one, Mulally’s throw down to the status quo created some genuine organizational momentum. To really rock The Glass House in year two, he must capitalize on the big Mo. He must reach outside the myopic automaker’s in-house talent to recruit execs who aren’t afraid to question everything.

Early indications are that Alan Mulally’s a good thing for Ford. For the sake of Ford’s 283,000 employees, dealers, suppliers and shareholders, let’s hope he’s not too little too late.

[Read the BusinessWeek article here ] 

Imagine GM CEO Rick Wagoner in his RenCen bunker in the middle of August. Reports from the front indicate his North American division faces a third straight month of lowered sales. As the architect of a turnaround plan with no publicly defined goals (including a return to profitability), Wagoner’s given himself plenty of wiggle room. But a bad August– in the face of production cutbacks and a rapidly declining market– would finally trigger Wall Street’s alarm clock. So what does he do? He cheats. 

In August, GM’s year-on-year sales rose by 6.1 percent. In the same period, Toyota’s sales declined by 2.8 percent. On the face of it, it’s a stunning result. The media and Wall Street’s reaction was both swift and positive. “Investors given hope after GM bucks downtrend” MSNBC proclaimed. On Tuesday, GM shares rose by $1.18 (3.8 percent). Clearly, Wagoner's wily ways worked: he dodged the bullet.

Despite the obvious anomaly, industry experts weren’t all that interested in examining the figures for a suitable explanation. IRN Inc. auto analyst Erich Merkle spoke for many when he told Bloomberg “It was a quirky month.” Quirky or not, all GM's upward movement came from light truck sales, which rose by 16.5 percent. (Passenger cars sales tanked by a Toyota-beating 7.8 percent.) So the press credited the jump to a sudden increase in consumer demand for GM's pickups and called it good. Very good.

And yet, the clues to the real state of affairs were there for all to see, right in GM’s press release. “When combining retail sales with our growing commercial business, our sales were up when compared with last August,” Marketing Maven Mark LaNeve crowed. "With the double-digit decline in daily rental sales so far this year, and an overall market that remains challenging and competitive, we continue to stabilize our retail share and pricing in the market.”

Growing commercial business? Is this the same GM that said it loud and said it proud: we hereby swear-off fleet sales to protect retail residuals and get GM out of the “pile ‘em high and sell ‘em cheap” mentality? The numbers tell the tale. In August, GM’s total fleet sales rose by 21 percent. And as for LaNeve’s professed “double digit decline in daily rental sales,” note the “so far this year” qualifier. GM’s sales to rental companies increased by 24 percent during August.

In other words, Wagoner’s mob reneged on their promise to their retail customers. They sacrificed their retail customer's vehicular equity to goose the company's August numbers. They cheated. Sometime in mid-August, someone placed a call to fleet buyers and said OK, we’re done starving you of cheap cars. How many would you like ‘cause we got LOTS.

It’s hard to be specific. In a radical and deeply suspicious break with previous policy, GM didn’t separate out fleet and retail sales numbers for August. But the fact that sales of all the usual rental car suspects (Pontiac G6, Chevrolet Impala, Chevrolet Malibu, etc.) matched or exceeded last year’s totals in a declining market is pretty damn damning. If you think about it, that 7.8 percent drop in GM's car sales would have been catastrophic without bulk sales.

As for the trucks, again, we have no idea how many went to fleets. But you can bet it was a bunch. Whenever there’s a statistical anomaly–such as the reversal of GM’s sales losses and Toyota’s sales gains– common sense says something’s changed. On the retail truck side, there’s only one factor that could explain a Silverado or Sierra surge: increased incentives. From July 31 onwards, GM offered from $2k to $4k incentives or zero percent financing on their pickups– even as Toyota quietly dropped national incentives on their Tundra.

Sacrificing profits for sales might increase sales, but it does nothing for profits. So even if GM's 30 percent increase in pickup truck sales isn’t fleet related, the surge isn’t all that it’s cracked-up to be. Truth be told, The General’s recent pickup truck production cutbacks sent a clear signal to alert observers that the automaker's August sales increase must be a temporary bump on a rocky road to oblivion. Short term, GM’s headed straight for lower pickup truck sales AND reduced profit.

Since the numbers received so much attention, let’s finish with the numbers.

Frank Williams says GM’s August increase is based on percentage change per sales day. If you just compare the total numbers from Aug ‘07 to Aug ’06, there's only a 4.9 percent sales increase. Since both months had the same number of selling days (27), there’s only one reason to change the formula: to inflate the percentages. But no matter how they slice it, GM’s still down 7.5 percent overall year to date. While a few models may be showing some increases, the overall trend is decidedly downwards.

Mr. Wagoner can hide from the truth, but there’s nowhere left to run.

As Motor Trend (MT) and its buff book brethren hemorrhage readers and cash to the Internet, they’ve reacted in the only way they know how: by kow-towing to their advertisers with even greater ardor and even lower journalistic standards (yes, “special advertising section” readers, it is possible). But what really galls is their continued belief that they’re superior to both Internet websites and those who visit them. MT’s first test review of the 2008 Subaru Impreza WRX is a perfect case in point.

”OMGWRXLOL: Subaru's latest rally-bred rocket crash lands on the Internet. We pick up the pieces and set the record straight.” 

The headline capping Edward Loh’s review of the WRX immediately exposes both Motor Trend’s superiority complex and their lack of clue. Here on the “internets,” abbreviations like “OMG” and “LOL” haven’t been used by anyone other than Dateline sex predators since 1998. Needless to say, Loh’s lead takes the ignorant arrogance-shaped ball and runs with it.

“Immediately after subscribers received our May issue– the one with our exclusive first look at the 2008 Subaru Impreza WRX– the cover and story photos lit up Internet forums and blogs around the world. Auto enthusiasts flocked en masse to their favorite sites to weigh in on the new look.”

The scribe is implying that Motor Trend’s WRX coverage scooped the net, and then inspired it to sound-off. Not so, Loh. Australiancaradvice.com had full WRX pics and specs on March 27. Cars.ign.com covered the WRX on April 4, and Autochannel.com posted on April 5. Even if the magazine’s editor or ad manager had “convinced” Subaru to hide the WRX from the world for MT, the idea that a buff book with a two-month lead time still sets the automotive agenda is simply preposterous. 

After quoting Internet posters’ pithiest comments (without paying freelance fees), Loh condescends to set the record straight.

“Amidst the knee-jerk reactionaries were a few cooler heads willing to wait out the hype until they drove the car before rendering final judgment. What a novel idea.”

Keep in mind that the vast majority of the Internet comments slated the WRX for its looks (which are, let’s face it, hideous). After vilifying any such conjecture, Loh immediately concedes that “WRXs have never been lookers,” and attempts to reframe the debate while displaying his [supposed] Internet savvy.

“They've always been drivers, and whether you're sprinting across town or around a mountain pass, the new 2008 WRX should make you LOL. Why? Because under the controversial new sheetmetal is much the same WRX you know and love.”

Well exactly. While the WRX’ competitors have moved on, offering more horsepower and plenty of dynamic fluidity, the “new” Legacy-based WRX offers only two important differences from its predecessor: the horsepower and torque arrive 500rpm earlier and the car gets five percent better fuel economy. And that’s what pissed-off the “forum trolls” [sic].

In this disappointment they are not alone. Even the traditionally gentle mainstream publications have trashed the new WRX. Automobile concluded “we’re not convinced: since when should a Subaru look and drive like a Toyota – and an ugly one at that?” Edmunds’ Inside Line summarized a pile of bad news: “Engine runs out of steam early; soft suspension with lots of body roll; sleepy styling.” Car and Driver: We suspect [the “WRX faithful”] will transfer their affections to the STI or other brands.”

Even though Loh admits that the new WRX turns in identical acceleration and slalom times as the old car, he’s determined to prove the Internet arrivistes are wrong. Or, if you prefer, fellate Subaru by praising handling-oriented changes that don’t actually improve the car's handling. Oh and…

“Gone are the stark silver plastics and restrictive rear legroom; occupants are now treated to more room in every direction, richly textured surfaces, and seats redesigned to support the entire back. Getting in and out is easier, too; the rear doors now open wider by one full stop and close with a satisfying thunk.”     

Again, Mr. Loh’s doesn’t understand that the Subie-loving Internet denizens aren’t interested in surface textures or thunking doors; they wanted better looks, more bang-for-the-buck and major handling advances.

Mr. Loh’s cheery assessment of the 2008 WRX finally ends with– get this– an olive branch. 

“What's the take-home message for the forum trolls? Give it a chance. With all the content Subaru has managed to cram under its controversial skin, the new WRX should have you laughing out loud.”

We take home a different message. Consumers are expressing themselves in huge numbers on the Internet. Their perspective is just as valid as the “pros.” In fact more so; it’s their money that keeps carmakers afloat. Or not. Meanwhile, so long as the mainstream press perches on its pedestal, it won’t be able to see everyone else sawing away at the base down below.

[Read MT's WRX review here.] 

Last week, I spoke with former Florida Oldsmobile dealer Robert Horvath. Horvath insisted that General Motors cut a secret deal with Toyota to deep-six Olds. Reacting to this tin foil hat analysis of Oldsmobile’s demise, TTAC commentator canfood extended his deepest sympathies. “When something so unexpected and seemingly nonsensical happens it causes people to attribute it to some kind of outside force or even some kind of supernatural event.” Less charitably, if you refuse to accept reality long enough, you lose the ability to do so. The men helming GM are on that arc.

Bob Lutz is the poster child for GM's delusional denial. For some reason, GM’s Vice Chairman of Product Development can't get his head around the fact that only a handful of his employer's products are demonstrably better than the competitions', while most are patently worse. The idea that the new Chevrolet Malibu is no Accord killer simply doesn't appear on the former Marine aviator's radar screen. And if the new Honda Accord [continues to] kick the Malibu’s ass in the sales chart? Why there must be other, more sinister forces at work. 

In fact, it’s only a matter of time before Maximum Bob will be shuffling around a swank hotel in a terry cloth bathrobe muttering Horvathian diatribes about The Black Dragon Society’s secret pact with The Oval Office. Rick Wagoner will eventually succumb to the same paranoid psychosis– only he’ll bore bystanders with endless, detailed expositions on currency manipulation, health care policy, union relations and the unequal burden of federal regulations on American automakers. 

I know I’m getting ahead of myself. I'm preparing for GM’s August sales stats. Even as the bad news hits the wires, The General’s spinmeisters will claim the faltering housing market caused a general downturn in U.S. automobile sales which, they will insist, led to their precarious predicament. In other words, the corporate big wigs will trot-out the Curly defense: “I’m a victim of coicumstance!”

Of course, Toyota’s growth in this declining market is proof positive that GM is a “victim” of nothing more (or less) than its own incompetence. Not to put too fine a point on it, the artist formerly known as the world’s largest automaker is circling the bowl because it can’t get out of its own way.

I mean that literally. GM’s stifling bureaucratic structure lies at the heart of the American automaker's multi-decade fall from grace. And if you thought GM’s management had reacted to the company's evaporating U.S. market share by keelhauling its corporate culture, ending octo-divisional internecine warfare and unleashing the world-class creativity lingering within, think again.

From tail lamp designs to drivetrains, GM product decisions are [still] made, remade, unmade, abandoned and resurrected with scant regard to deadlines, aesthetics or electro-mechanical harmony. What’s worse, GM’s new emphasis on “global development” has made the design process worse. Which brand gets what bit when and where in what form for how much is now a subject of international debate.

Overlapping fiefdoms continue to force GM designers and engineers to implement the simplest solution, rather than the best. A new Cadillac based on the old Saab platform? A new Saab on a Chevy platform? We can do that! Three new crossovers on the same Lambda platform? Why not four? Saturn Aura and Chevy Malibu twins based on an Opel? OK! Import another rear-wheel-drive Aussie V8 for Pontiac after the first one flopped? Go for it! It all makes perfect sense to someone. (I'm looking at you Mr. Car Czar). But not the consumer.

It’s the bureaucracy, stupid. And what has GM’s CEO done to dismantle the enemy within? Nothing. Why would he? Dismantling GM’s bureaucracy would destroy Rick Wagoner's power base and annihilate the only world he's ever known. And yet the devolution of power was GM's only possible savior. 

Ask yourself this: would an independent Pontiac have created the lackluster lineup currently littering their dealers’ lots? Would those dealers also be selling Buick sedans and crossovers and GMC pickup trucks and SUVs? Would a full functional Cadillac offer cars that compete on price rather than style or quality? If Saturn had controlled its own destiny, would they have built Americanized Opels for their rabidly loyal customers? And what about Oldsmobile? As Mr. Horvath pointed out (repeatedly), the Oldsmobile Cutlass was America’s best selling car from 1970 to 1985.

In truth, GM’s bureaucracy killed Oldsmobile the same way it’s poisoning Pontiac, Cadillac, Saturn and the five other brands GM flogs stateside. By failing to nurture, protect and value each brand’s [once] unique promise to its customers; by chasing the next big thing rather than doing every little thing to fulfill that promise, GM's sucked the soul right out their product.

At some point in the not too distant future, the cancer will kill the host. GM’s bureaucracy will drive the company into bankruptcy. Toyota and the transplants may have been the instrument of this ignominy, but they were never its cause.

Press cars are specially selected, carefully prepared and meticulously maintained. Why wouldn’t they be? You can hardly expect a manufacturer to pluck a car from the assembly line and trust their model’s reputation to the vagaries of quality control– even though the car’s less likely to receive a harsh critique than a seventh grade production of The Wizard of Oz. To their credit, the manufacturers eventually “let go;” surrendering specially selected, carefully prepared new vehicles to the buff books’ long-term fleets. When things go wrong, as they do, the result betrays the tension between payola and editorial credibility. 

In the August 20 issue of Autoweek, Mac Morrison provides an update on the mag’s long-term 2007 Jaguar XK-R drop top. “IT’S SO FINE, IT’S SUNSHINE” dismisses any thoughts that the mag’s Jag might have some of those pesky reliability issues that have dogged the brand since, um, ever. The strapline pours on the feel good: “Jaguar’s XK-R is a universal favorite" (also all caps, but it hurts my ears).

“Opinions on our new Jaguar in its first three months with us are nearly unanimous, with each driving experience a carbon copy of those preceding it. And those experiences are good."

Morrison’s paean to pussycat perfection begins with that most revealing of collective possessive pronouns: “our.” From the fourth word, the author signals objectivity’s defenestration; as the Zen saying goes, that which you own owns you. Of course, the $97,875 XK-R in question ($92,500 plus $5,375-worth of Autoweek selected options) doesn’t really belong to Mr. Morrison or Autoweek. But the responsibility to maintain more than a modicum of editorial independence does.

Anyway, describing the staff’s reaction to maximum Jagitude as “nearly unanimous” is like saying that Parindsehole Hiltohanchie is “virtually clean and sober;” we instantly want to know about those exceptions. No wonder Morrison feels compelled to calm us down and call it good.

“The exhaust gurgle sounds genuinely like an agitated cat on full alert. If that strikes you as a cliché, then you’ve never heard an XK-R on wide-open throttle. The taut yet comfortable suspension compresses and rebounds fluidly through corners as the gearbox cracks off perfect downshifts with a flick of the paddle. Passengers absorb it all from the confines of a cockpit born for long, top-down, sunset cruises.”

Although a cliché is a cliché because it’s true, you get the picture: it’s a fantastic automobile. Well, fair enough. But none of this adds much to J.P. Vettraino’s original review. What we want to know– still– is how the blown cat has held up to long term scrutiny.

After three paragraphs of passionate reverence, including the reassurance that “not one driver voiced disappointment with the overall experience,” Morrison finally gets down to business. 

The scribe slates the XK-R’s touch screen for its user-antagonism, condemns the trunk-mounted antenna’s aesthetics as “ridiculous on a $98,000 car," slates it for its sloth-like retraction and blames the tardiness for a $500 post-car wash repair bill. And then, the real money shot…

“Our XK-R also exhibited some strange electronic (ahem) glitches. Once it would not detect the key. Another time, the backup sensors went beserk for no apparent reason, while one editor claimed multiple warning lights illuminated and disappeared just as mysteriously. Yet another driver experienced cruise-control failure. None of the problems repeated and the car spent no days out of service.”

It’s a damning indictment of Jaguar’s quality control, wrapped in (ahem) qualifiers and obvious backpedaling (the editor “claimed” idiot light malfunction). Nevertheless, it was said, and Morrison ends the update with a justifiable blend of boosterism and foreboding.

“We certainly do not question the enthusiasm that exists for Jaguar’s latest. Here’s hoping the next nine months provide no significant reason to do so.”

We certainly do question the need for AutoWeek, Car and Driver, Motor Trend, etc. to run manufacturer-sponsored long term fleets, the lack of full disclosure and the unanswered question of whether or not the dealers who service the vehicles know that they’re doing so on behalf of a motoring journalist.

Obviously, readers want to know the real world livability and reliability of new-to-market cars, and how they’re treated down at the dealership when things go awry. But that information is best provided by real world drivers driving honest-to-God production vehicles. In fact, AutoWeek does just that in an excellent regular feature sampling owners’ comments. So what’s the point of the long-term fleet?

No matter how you answer that question, a larger one looms: what effect does such an expensive freebie have on a publication’s editorial integrity? There’s an implied quid pro quo: don’t be too harsh on our products and your multi-thousand dollar ticket on the new car gravy train is assured. It’s an ethically unjustifiable extravagance.

There. I’ve said it. The cat is out of the bag.

Jaguar's embargo on pictures of their new XF midrange model expired over the weekend. After seeing the snaps, it’s clear the brand is set to follow suit. Whereas the Jaguar C-XF concept car was a stunning shape with brilliant details, the production version is… meh. Of course, the concept-to-production castration has afflicted many a dream car. But the transformation is particularly regrettable for Jag. While Porsche had 14 years to move production Boxsters back toward the spirit of the original concept, Jaguar is out of time. 

The past fifteen years have been excruciating for fans of the once-legendary British brand. Although Jag’s reliability and quality were removed from the laughing stocks, the company’s management made a stunning and seemingly endless series of catastrophic miscalculations: retro-styling, anemic engines, diesel engines, station wagons, anemic diesel station wagons and a model so execrable it threatened to banish “X” to the bottom of the cool letter list. And the rest, including misbegotten marketing and Ye Olde Ford lack of continual development.

Fast forward to today and the time has come for Lyon’s legacy to face the final curtain– or at least a transfer of ownership from Ford to someone else. But even as FoMoCo prepares to cut bait and fish, Jaguar needs something, anything, to keep itself alive until someone, somewhere can get into resurrection mode. The XF is so not it. In fact, the sedan may reduce the marque's selling price and hinder any efforts to apply the paddles to the brand’s sunken chest. 

The C-XF made the auto show circuit to demonstrate that the old cat had at least one life left. Even before it headed back to the Galactica for federalization, Jag supporters fretted that its claws would be removed. Designer Ian Callum felt compelled to assure onlookers that the concept vehicle would be locked away in the Jaguar "vault" after it made the rounds.

And the concept might still be in that vault, for all we know. Meanwhile the production version of the C-XF is exactly what its admirers feared: yet another bland brand betrayal. 

For example, the door handles, hidden in the B and C pillars on the concept, are now sticking out on the sides of the car just like everything else on the road.  The concept’s glamorous headlamps have become globular and saggy headlights. The C-XF’s low roofline was lifted to allow taller folks to enter comfortably; a sure sign that God hates proper sports cars. 

Jag’s interior defecators took the C-XF’s break-from-tradition cabin– remarkable not just for its shape but for the absence of traditional stuffy Jaguar club-room finishing– and threw it in the rubbish bin. In its stead, the production XF will be adorned with the usual almost BMW-quality leather and wood polished until it looks just like plastic. Oh, a few novel elements from the concept’s interior made it to market.

A gimmicky gear selector knob called JaguarDrive SelectorTM rises from the XF’s center tunnel. Trick yes, but also a bold declaration that Jag’s "true sports saloon” will have neither a manual gearbox nor a dual clutch S-tronic DSG type deal. And although the XF’s six-speed automatic is a welcome advance, it keeps Jaguar in its now traditional spot: one step behind the competition. Lest we forget, Mercedes is packing seven-speed boxes into its cars thee days, and the rest of the luxury pack are paddling pistonheads to performance-related profit.

The XF also features covered air vents that “roll back” when the driver presses  the push-button ignition– that pulses like a “beating heart” (or annoying idiot light). It’s a direct steal from the Volkswagen Phaeton, with one critical telling difference: when the Vee Dub reaches the appropriate cabin temperature, the fascia rolls back and continues heating or cooling with indirect ventilation. Not so the XF. So, what’s the point?

The XF’s engine lineup is the real bright spot in this tarted-up Teutonic wannabe– if only because it isn’t a 3.0-liter Duratec V6. Well not for the Yanks anyway. While the Eurozone gets the old six-pot and a diesel option, American XF’s come one way: with a 300-horse V8. Hang on; Jaguar's latest example of cutting-edge engineering needs two extra cylinders to put out what Infiniti, Cadillac, Acura, Lexus, and BMW are doing with six pipes? And while the eventual 420-horse supercharged V8 will be a screamer, it's far from enough to pull this buggy out of the mud.

On the face of it, before a test drive, the XF looks like it's too little too late. Again. If The Blue Oval Boyz hadn't lost $12.6b last year, the XF might be acceptable. If Jaguar's U.S. sales were more like 2002's 60k cars and not 2006's 20k, the XF might be a "solid effort." But Coventry doesn't have that luxury. The XF needed to be a grand-slam home run. It isn’t. Here’s hoping the new management has better luck. 

Since the late 30's, the UAW and America's home-grown automakers have been locked in a balance of terror. The arrangement has kept the peace- at a price. Which was pretty much anything the UAW wanted. No-cost life-long health care? A "jobs bank" for superfluous workers? Sure! The Mutually Assured Destruction principle worked as long as the automakers could afford it. But now they can't, and the question is no longer who will blink first, but how much the UAW is willing to surrender to survive. 

Going into this year's contract negotiations, GM, Ford and Chrysler have all made it abundantly clear that they expect the UAW to make concessions on health care, wages and working conditions. Of course, the UAW's leadership bared their teeth and growled; workers at several plants voted to strike if necessary. The saber-rattling worked in previous years, so why not try it again?

For one thing, the UAW is a pale shadow of its former self. In 1969, the organization counted 1.53m members. Today, the union can claim no more than 180k dues-paying autoworkers. The days when union bosses could summon powerful politicians with a single Vito Corleone-esque phone call are over. Less contentiously, Dana Johnson, chief economist of Comerica Inc., says the unions are no longer "the pacesetters of the overall economy." 

Equally important, the union's employers are not what they once were, either. Setting aside the fact that all of them are mortgaged up to their eyeballs, staring down the barrel of bankruptcy, The Big 2.8 are no longer land-locked enterprises with distant relatives.

Ford and GM have established production facilities in China, India, Thailand, Brazil, Mexico and other low-labor-cost countries. What's more, U.S. car brands have "gone native," mixing their DNA with foreign-made vehicles. GM sells German Opels as Saturns, Korean Daewoos as Chevrolets, and Australian Holdens as Pontiacs. It's only a matter of time before Chinese Buicks hit the scene.  

Chrysler also sells "hecho en Mexico" vehicles, and recently signed up with a Chinese partner. Ford's moving as quickly as it can towards "globalization." In short, while The Big 2.8 still need their UAW-staffed U.S. production facilities, they don't rely on them to the extent that they did merely a decade ago. The threat of out-sourcing looms large over many a UAW factory, tipping the balance of power in the automakers' direction.

At the same time, the UAW must now deal with the end of pattern bargaining, where all three domestics signed identical union contracts. While the union itself signaled this change by refusing to offer DaimlerChrysler the same "health care giveback" afforded GM, Chrysler's transfer to private equity group Cerberus guaranteed the end of Detroit's "all for one and one for all" arrangement.

For example, Ford and GM will most likely offer to establish a multi-billion dollar union-controlled health care fund to ditch their endlessly escalating health care costs once and for all- eventually. As befits an equity fund, Cerberus is more interested in a short term solution. And no wonder: they had enough trouble raising the funds to buy Chrysler in the first place, and the credit markets have contracted since. A gigantic lump sum payment is simply out of the question.

For the UAW, two- (or even three-) track negotiations are an enormous headache. If the union tries to hang onto pattern bargaining, one or more of the automakers could choose the nuclear option. If the UAW allows different contract terms for different companies, they're bound to piss off part (or all) of their membership. 

In the face of this diminution of their bargaining power, the UAW has tried to open a fourth front: Toyota. This morning, members of [a UAW invention called] the Kentucky Workers' Rights Board submitted a list of "recommendations" for improving working conditions at ToMoCo's KY factory. Needless to say, company executives refused to meet with them. Toyota spokesman Rick Hesterberg stated, "If they have recommendations or proposals for us, they can leave them here for us to review."   

The UAW doesn't stand a chance. If the union looks set to organize their plants, Toyota's bound to retaliate by closing their only UAW facility: the NUMMI plant in California. If it escalates from there, Toyota's top dogs could pull part of their U.S. production back to Japan. And last but not least, Toyota builds Camrys in China; if anyone can export vehicles to the American market from China, it's got to be Toyota.

The UAW's effort to glom onto Toyota is a quixotic campaign that only serves to remind industry observers how the mighty have fallen. In truth, the UAW's hold over domestic automakers is weak, and getting weaker. While none of The Big 2.8 are bound to do anything that looks like union-busting, they're methodically positioning themselves to operate without any UAW members. But even that may not be enough to guarantee their survival. Mutually assured extinction?