Based on the emails I’ve been receiving from TrueDelta’s members, I have underestimated the impact of the unintended acceleration fiasco on Toyota’s future sales. This fiasco is going to hurt Toyota, possibly for years to come. The problem isn’t that many people feel that Toyotas are unsafe. Most seem to recognize that a very small percentage of Toyotas have suffered from unintended acceleration. But they’re hearing about problem after problem, so Toyota’s quality seems to be lower. Most of all, Toyota’s public statements have seemed dodgy, and people seem to feel that they cannot trust the company to keep owners’ best interests or even their safety in mind.

Read More >

We’ve seen the signs coming for some time: rumors from Japan, declining car sales at home, advertisments selling cars as “the ultimate mobile device.” And the picture that’s beginning to reveal itself is a challenging one for fans of four-wheeled transport. Young people, once a deep well of enthusiasm and sales growth for the car industry, are no longer as auto-obsessed as they once were. And their vibrant presence in the automotive world does not seem likely to return any time soon, either. How do I know? Because, like an increasing number of people in their twenties, I don’t own a car.

Read More >

There is always going to be a generation gap. The term “generation gap” was coined in the 60s when it became evident that Baby Boomers had developed a whole new set of rules for themselves that put a significant chasm between them and their parents in terms of interests and values. Generation gaps will always define new generations and every generation will march to the beat of their own drum. For me, the gap got Grand Canyon wide when I read the LA Times piece by Martin Zimmerman that cited a J D Power study which indicated that Generation Y has less interest in cars. As a lifelong car guy who built an entire social world around cars I would have to ask; “Generation why?”

Read More >

Why is a soon-to-be success story gathering dust at TATA dealers across India? Much like the initial growing pains of the Ford Model T, the $2000 Nano currently lies on waiting lists. Given the lopsided supply/demand and construction conflagrations with the government, I reckon enterprising Indians are flipping the Nanos living in parking lot limbo for profit. Still, my precious few moments sitting in somebody’s dusty Nano left me impressed. Not because it was a perfect machine: I saw automotive history in the making.

Read More >

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Beholders have beheld the new Honda Crosstour and found it not beautiful. Ugly, in fact. Ten years ago, this condem-nation wouldn’t have been a problem for the vehicle’s manufacturer. At worst, a few aesthetically-offended members of the automotive press would have nibbled the hand that feeds, gently alluding to the vehicle’s “challenging” exterior. Otherwise, the illusion that the Honda Crosstour isn’t a Gorgon-on-wheels would have been maintained—at least until “disappointing” sales proved the point. Those days are gone. These days, Honda’s decision to green light an ugly automobile has unleashed a major PR debacle. Welcome to the Internet, fellas. I did warn you.

True story. Once upon a time, I wrote that the Subaru B9 Tribeca was ugly. More specifically, I called the Subie SUV’s front end a “flying vagina.” Excrement and rotary air moving device collided. Subaru had me fired from my job as car reviewer for the San Francisco Chronicle. The anti-TTAC backlash was fast and furious. BMW, Chrysler, Subaru, Toyota, GM—every single mainstream carmaker in the United States took TTAC off their press car list. Including Honda.

HoMoCo tried to dress up their contribution to the ban as a sudden realization that TTAC was too small for press car consideration. I didn’t argue the point. Why bother? We were small. But I told the PR flack in question that he was missing the point. The game was changing. Thanks to the Internet, the Japanese carmaker couldn’t hide from the truth about their cars. You know, eventually.

I figured GM’s bankruptcy would be the beginning of the end for decades of journalistic bribery and collusion. When the largest and most monolithic of the American automakers went down, the industry would realize they had to face the truth about their products, or face extinction. While I didn’t expect the chastened car companies to embrace their protagonist, I thought the post-GM C11 automakers would at least begin to see the value of a website that left no holds barred.

At that point, perhaps, carmakers might reach out to us and engage our writers and commentators in something roughly akin to a conversation. An open, honest and frank exchange of views about their vehicles’ shortcomings, leading to better products and customer relations. I predicted that the first car company to fully embrace Internet openness would have an enormous competitive advantage.

Here’s what I didn’t understand: TTAC was part of the problem. Yes, we host a not inconsiderable 1.1 million unique visitors per month. But we’re still an elitist outfit. Not to coin a phrase, we report, you decide. Old school. Or, more accurately, outdated.

The Crosstour controversy proves that the power of the truth has leapfrogged gatekeepers—both old and new—and landed on the keyboards of individual enthusiasts. To wit: a TTAC writer didn’t force Honda’s hand in the matter of its ugly ass CUV. Everyone did. Honda’s Facebook page was the medium. “The Crosstour is ugly” was the message.

And now that the message is out there, Honda can’t deal. Their efforts to do so, via their “Message to Fans,” misunderstands the fundamentally no-bullshit nature of Internet “debate.” By doing so, Honda only makes things worse.

Hi, Facebook fans. We’re listening, and we want to address a few things you’ve been talking about over the past few days. The photos: Arguably, the two studio photos we posted didn’t give you enough detail, nor were they the best to showcase the vehicle. There are more photos on the way. Maybe it’s like a bad yearbook photo or something, and we think the new photos will clear things up. It’s not the European wagon: We’ve seen a lot of comments about the desire for a wagon, but this is neither a wagon nor designed for wagon buyers. We think the Euro wagon is a cool vehicle, too, and we appreciate the feedback… but a version of that wasn’t our intention here. That’s another segment worthy of our consideration, but the Accord Crosstour, built on the larger, Accord platform, is meant to give you the best of two worlds – the versatility of an SUV with the sportiness of a car. Many of you don’t like the styling: It may not be for everyone. Our research suggests that the styling does test well among people shopping for a crossover.

Arguably? “A bad yearbook photo?” “Clear things up?” Honda’s rip-post is defensive, evasive, obfuscatory, condescending. Moreover, it shows that the automaker is so far out of the cultural loop they don’t realize that the phrase the “best of two worlds” evokes the deeply uncool Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus paradigm. And “We’re listening” brings to mind blowhard fictional shrink Frasier Crane. Taken as a whole, it’s hard to imagine Honda drafting a worse reply to their “fans” that doesn’t include the words FOAD.

More to the point, Honda fails to understand that the Internet wins. The web has revealed that their would-be emperor is buck naked and unattractive; rendering their previous product design and research worthless. And there’s nothing Honda can do to change this perception amongst the automotive opinion shapers. Because it’s not perception. It’s reality.

Honda can’t fix ugly. Unless, of course, they do. Honda could spend tens of millions of dollars to rectify this now-obvious mistake. Lest we forget, despite Subaru’s vicious anti-TTAC smear campaign, the car company quickly modified the Tribeca’s flying vagina front end into a Chrysler Pacifica-esque snout. Will Honda follow suit and change the Crosstour?

In some ways, it doesn’t matter. The autoblogosphere has forced Honda to face the truth about their car. For those of us who love cars—not forgetting that hatred is love turned upside down—the fact that Honda may be shamed into returning to product excellence is a truly wondrous thing.

It turns out that Gil Scott-Heron was right: the revolution will not be televised. It’s on Facebook.

[Read Part One here]

Like many American car buyers, I place reliability near the top of my “must have” list. Over on GM’s FastLane blog, I told GM they’d conquer [some] Toyota and Honda customers when the American automaker’s ten-year-old cars offered the same service as ten-year-old Toyotas and Hondas. Truth be told, New GM may not HAVE ten years. So it’s no surprise that they tried to wow me with tail fins and technology. When the speeches finally ended in the Proving Ground auditorium, I was invited to sample New GM in the “now.” Our PR handlers gave us a quick safety talk (don’t do anything stupid, obey the traffic wardens) and turned us loose.

GM’s Milford Proving Ground had two test tracks: “performance” and “city.” The urban track was the less popular of the two. I used it almost exclusively; I wanted to do as much driving and as little waiting as possible. The course was a mix of coned paths across extremely large parking lots and stretches of some of the Proving Grounds road system. It included a short slalom and some S-curves, so you could exercise the vehicles a bit.

My original intent: test only cars I might actually buy. Ordinarily, that would be the Chevrolet Aveo, Cobalt or Malibu. For some reason, the Aveo and Cobalt didn’t get invited to the event. Someone else grabbed the Malibu first, so I headed for the Buick LaCrosse.

Buick LaCrosse

A friendly-looking woman wearing slacks and a polo shirt stood alongside the Buick sedan. It was Jeanne Merchant, the LaCrosse’s Vehicle Line Director. I didn’t waste her time.

“Can I drive it?” I asked.

“Sure!”

If GM fails, I’m not going to shed a tear for Bob Lutz or Fritz Henderson. I’m going to hold them responsible for the automaker’s destruction. But there are hundreds if not thousands of other GM employees whose lives are more like mine, and I’m sympathetic to their plight. Even so, mismanaged businesses fail. It’s never pretty, but it’s a fact of life. The people who work for the competition have to eat, too.

Merchant’s sense of pride gave me reason to hope for GM’s troops. She was completely confident I was going to like the Buick LaCrosse.

I’d read Dan Neil’s review, favorably comparing the LaCrosse to a Lexus. I’m not qualified to judge the Buick against a Lexus; I drive a derivative of the 1996 Corolla. But the LaCrosse has a lot of inherent appeal; it’s nicely appointed with an extremely attractive interior. It provides comfortable seats, an equally comfortable ride and handles well enough for its intended mission.

The 3.0-liter engine offers sufficient power to move the car along without drama. Even with the 3.6-liter engine (sampled later), it’s no sports sedan; but as a quiet cruiser, it succeeds. If Buick can get people to try the LaCrosse, many of them are going to like it.

Chevrolet Malibu

I was not nearly as impressed by the Chevrolet Malibu. First, cars in my price range are never as impressive as cars above it. Second, the Toyota Camry is a better car.

The four-cylinder Camry is eager to get up and go, whereas the Malibu must be prodded into action. Equally important, the Camry quickly finds the right gear in every situation, where the Malibu can be caught out. The Camry’s handling isn’t anything to write home about, but it’s competent and straightforward. The Malibu I tested had more engine vibration and less poise.

I often hear people claim the Malibu is better looking than the Camry. I’m willing to bet that most of those people prefer the Malibu’s design because they want a reason to prefer a Chevy to a Toyota. Ditto the “appliance” condemnation of the Camry. The Malibu has four doors, a modest size engine and front wheel-drive. It’s the same kind of appliance as the Camry, only not as good.

Cadillac CTS Sport Wagon

The Aveo and Cobalt were unavailable so . . . why not?

Driving a CTS Sport Wagon is miles better than riding in the back of a CTS. Halfway through the course, I asked my GM handler if I could do a U-turn and go through the slalom again. The Sport Wagon offers easily controllable balance through the corners. It’s attractive, comfortable and goes like hell. What’s not to love?

On reflection, I don’t think the CTS Sports Wagon handles much better than the mid-90s BMW 3-Series I drove last year. That car felt much more nimble, with far better fuel economy. Of course, the CTS is a bigger machine and this one is bigger still, but I suppose that a contemporary, similarly-priced BMW wagon would be equally impressive.

On the positive side, the CTS Sport Wagon offers some practical features, such as a roof rack that completely disappears and rails with adjustable tie-down D rings in the wayback. I found myself wondering: if a CTS wagon is such a great idea, where’s my Cobalt or Malibu wagon?

Clean Diesel

I’m not the target market for a diesel automobile. If I have to take another three-day trip to Philmont with eight Scouts, three other adults and a trailer, I’d be happy to rent a fifteen passenger, diesel-powered passenger van. Otherwise, forget it. In fact, I can’t even remember if the vehicle was badged Chevy or GMC.

The van was about 7500 pounds, empty. My speed kept falling off. The oil burner had enough power, but the noise punished me for seeking higher rpm. The dynamics were predictably truck-like. The good news: GM says it’s now offering a 6.0-liter clean diesel engine with a urea-based system (not presented). I wrassled the van back to its parking spot, thanked the GM rep and went to look for something more my speed.

Cruze Control

Most of the Tweeters missed this one as well; they were “busy” queueing-up for the Cadillac CTS-V, and the Chevrolet Camaros and the Corvettes. The Cruze was parked by itself, with a lonely-looking Mike Danowski standing by it.

“Can I drive it?”

Mike looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, no.”

“Can I get in and look around?”

“Absolutely!”

The Cruze has an excellent interior. If the two-tone seats aren’t leather, they’re an excellent facsimile. The Cruze’s cabin is bright and airy, with good sight lines and readily managed controls. The Cruze has a lot of zing, which a the highly competent Corolla LE lacks. If the Chevy offers good performance and class-compliant fuel economy, prospective Corolla buyers may be tempted.

That’s a lot of ifs. Still, the Corolla has left the door open, a little. The 1.8-liter Corolla LE’s four-speed automatic could sure use another gear. Even if the Cruze offers a fifth gear, winning a Camry loyalist to a new Chevy is the definition of a tough sell.

The Cruze was GM’s only small car at the event, and it wasn’t driveable. GM had made no real effort to win me over with small cars.

Saturn Vue PHEV Hybrid (Soon to be the Buick Something PHEV Hybrid)

My friend Dave drove this proto-Buick. Dave doesn’t believe in CO2-induced Global Warming. He couldn’t care less how much CO2 is blown out the tailpipe. To Dave, hybrids are irrelevant.

When Dave mashed the pedal flat to the floor, the tester’s electric motor and the gas engine woke up and the vehicle leaped ahead. “Dave, the point of a hybrid is to save gas by allowing the gas and electric engines to cooperate and work appropriately with each other and . . . Oh, never mind.” As Dave hustled the gas – electric Vue through the S-curves, the vehicle managed to stay on battery power for at least a short time.

GM representative Carol Johnson admitted that the hybrid soon-to-be Buick CUV’s weight was an issue, along with battery cost. She indicated that GM would get some of the cargo room back, but the vehicle would lose its spare tire. Dave’s lead foot aside . . .

“Why have you got a V6 up there?”

Johnson said GM management believed that the vehicle’s cost, brand and market indicated a need for accelerative performance.

“But it’s the fuel economy that sells these things,” I countered. “Toyota sold 19,000 Priuses last month. It doesn’t have excellent performance.”

Carol looked at me, “I know.”

Of course she does.

HCCI Test Vehicle

The Tweeters also ignored GM’s Homogeneous Charge Compression Ignition (HCCI) vehicle. It was parked near the Cruze, so I thought it was also a static display. Engineer Vijay Ramappan was happy to find someone curious about the technology. The last I knew, HCCI didn’t work.

“Can I drive it?”

“Sure!”

The car was equipped with a fire extinguisher. “Are we going to need that?” Dave asked. Vijay shook his head. “That’s just a safety regulation.”

Vijay’s laptop was wired into the car. An LCD display perched atop the center stack showed the engine’s operating zone. Danger! Checking the throttle’s effect on the display’s dots is far more interesting than watching the road ahead.

The HCCI car has the oomph of a regular 2.4-liter engine, perhaps bit more. There’s a tiny bit of diesel clatter and a very slight shudder at certain times. I attributed the sensation to the shift from spark to compression and back, but it might have been the transmission.

Vijay says GM’s put about 15,000 miles on the HCCI powerplant. He admitted that high-pressure fuel delivery and cylinder pressure sensors added to the engine’s expense. Unsurprisingly, he thought volume could drive costs down. Fuel economy would be significantly increased and the engine cost should eventually compare favorably with diesels. And you don’t have to use diesel; the HCCI powerplant should run well on E-85.

“Will you beat everybody else to market?” I asked.

Vijay frowned, just for a moment. “We don’t know. I think so.” He listed a few of the major manufacturers, what he knew about their programs and whether or not they seemed to be making announcements. Most of the others have been quiet, which could be a hopeful sign for GM. [ED: Or a sign that they don’t consider the technology commercially viable.] A new technology or capability can help sell a car to alienated customers.

Yukon Two-Mode Hybrid

Dave drove again and flogged the thing mercilessly. I couldn’t see the dash all that well from my seat, so I don’t know whether or not he was able to degrade fuel economy into the gallons-per-mile range. He was certainly trying his best.

The Yukon Hybrid was car-like and comfortable—and expensive. It’s over $50,000, roughly $15,000 more than a base Yukon and much more than an Acadia, which gets better highway fuel economy. Product Manager Tom Hughes revealed that GM sold about 600 two-mode hybrids last month.

Despite their failure in the marketplace, GM appears to be digging in. They claim they aren’t going to abandon the large-vehicle hybrid market. Hughes says improvements are on their way. A lower price would be the most useful improvement of all.

Greenhorn?

I appreciated the opportunity to talk to GM about their products. As the automaker can’t prove their new vehicles’ decadal reliability, or drop the price so low that reliability doesn’t matter, the junket was a suitable Plan B to put their products back on my menu. But was this junket simply a charm offensive aimed at eliminating the so-called “perception gap” or something more?

I talked to TTAC’s publisher about this. Farago assured me that GM employees (and auto industry types in general) are good people who always do their best. “No one wakes up in the morning and says, ‘I’m going to build a crap car,'” Farago said. “But GM’s culture is working against them. Most of their employees can’t even see it happening.”

Jeanne Merchant, Mike Danowski, Vijay Ramappan and their GM colleagues all had pride in their vehicles. After careful thought, I don’t think it’s misplaced. The real question: is it enough? It’s early days, but has New GM done enough to win over customers from rival brands? More to the point, did they win me over?

[Read Part 3 on Monday]

Like tens of millions of American consumers, I shop for my cars online. I do due diligence; working hard to filter-out fraud and minimize the unavoidable unpredictability inherent to such transactions. My methodology is far from perfect—as my recent experience will attest. In fact, my tale of woe provides a real life example of how the biggest online seller—eBay—responds to fraudulent transactions.

I was looking for a sedan with relatively low mileage. Something a bit interesting, but not insane. Somewhere between, say, a Honda Accord and an Alfa 164. I trolled eBay’s No Reserve auctions looking for a deal. And there she was: a 2002 Mazda Millenia L 65k miles, good condition.

Before bidding, I ran a Carfax (clean) and checked the seller’s reputation (500 transactions, 98% good). It appeared that the seller wasn’t a dealer; the vehicle was listed as “my” (i.e. his) car. I checked the Mazda’s book value in comparison to the auction price. I researched the model and noted the Millenia’s predilection for failing automatic tranny’s and clogged egr valves. I asked the seller about these potential pitfalls. His response (recorded in eBay): the tranny had never needed servicing, shifted smoothly, and there were no dashboard lights on.

I placed a $4,050 bid and “won.” I paid my $500 Paypal deposit. Three days later, my brother and I embarked on a 500-mile round-trip road trip to pick up my new ride.

The test drive went well. Clean, nice interior. No funny sounds, bad shifts, etc. Being somewhat mechanically adept—but unable to put it up on a rack—I gave the Millenia L a careful inspection. I handed over the cash and hit the road. The journey home proceeded without event. And then . . .

The check engine light came on. I ran the codes at Advance: egr. The seller had the codes erased prior to selling the car. Then, a small transmission fluid leak. A slightly rough 1-2 shift. The leak grew larger every day. As I went into the glovebox for the manual to check on the recommended fluid level, I found a balled-up receipt for 24 ounces of “Lucas Transmission Fix.”  The receipt was dated the same day I’d picked-up the car.

I’ve been had.

I drove the car into the shop. The mechanic identified a front seal leak, which required dropping the transmission—and my pants, to the tune of $850.

I contacted eBay. The website’s calm, helpful rep said working with the seller was my first, best option for recompense. Customers who’ve proved that they’ve done this, and still can’t resolve the issue, can then file a claim with the eBay’s “Auction Insurance Agency.”

When I contacted the eBay seller, he told that he didn’t actually sell me the car; he let his “boy” post it on his eBay account. When I called the “real” seller, he offered to swap-in a replacement transmission from a wrecked Millenia. Uh, no. I secured five different quotes for the work. I choose the shop with the best quote.

Once Cottman Transmisson dropped the tranny, they discovered that the Millenia needed a full rebuild plus torque converter. After multiple calls and emails between myself and the actual seller, it was clear he was unwilling to pay to have a reputable shop fix the car properly. So I sent an email to eBay’s Auction Insurance Agency (AIA).

I received a phone call the next day. I described my situation, including the receipt for the Transmission Fix. AIA’s requirement: get two quotes on fixing the exact problem from two ASE certified shops. But no one will quote transmission work unless they can personally get inside the tranny. Even so, I eventually convinced a shop to write-up an estimate on the same amount of work. I faxed my quotes along with the receipt for the transmission liquid, proof of transaction, and my story in writing.

AIA tried to get payment from the seller. That didn’t go well. In fact, the agent told me that they “may” shut down the eBay seller’s account. Which would still leave the “real” seller unpunished, but it’s the right thing to do. At least it’s not my problem anymore.

eBay’s insurance policy only covers major components: transmissions and engines and . . . basically, that’s it. I had to spring for the Millenia’s torque converter ($360), which somehow isn’t considered part of a transmission. But eBay paid for the transmission rebuild: $1600.

I consider myself lucky. But this was an expensive lesson. Aside from the out-of-pocket expenses, I spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to recover from my initial mistake. My big concern: how well would my claim have turned-out if the fraud not been so easy to prove? What if I hadn’t bought from eBay? I’ll always be a bit more weary of their No Reserve auctions, but I guess my experience proves the sometimes you get what you pay for—even when you don’t.

Earlier this week, J.D. Power gave the automotive world a new score to ponder: the Vehicle Launch Index (VLI). This addition to the survey giant’s quality canon aims to measure how well manufacturers launch new or redesigned models. It’s a worthy endeavor; a new model’s success in its first few months often predicts its long-term sales and profitability. But what do these new J.D. Power scores tell us? In the immortal words of Jeff Spicoli: I don’t know.

This first set of VLI scores includes 27 models introduced in the first ten months of 2008. The top scorer: the Hyundai Genesis. The bottom scorer: the Toyota Matrix. Speaking to Automotive News [sub], J.D. Power Senior Vice President Gary Dilts characterized the Hyundai luxury sedan’s launch as “flawless;” a characterization that captured the media’s immediate attention and pleased the Korean automaker to no end. The rear wheel-drive sedan’s score: 689 out of 1,000. Flawless? On a curve?

That’s only the first of many VLI oddities. The VW Routan falls just three points shy of the 582-point average. The slow-selling German-engineered (or not) minivan had a decent launch—who knew? The Audi A4 ranks much lower, tying with the now-defunct Pontiac G8. So should Volkswagen of America aim for more launches like the Routan’s, and fewer like the A4’s? Meanwhile, the Ford Flex, which has had an agonizingly slow start and (according to J.D. Power’s IQS) poor initial quality, ranks near the top of the VLI.

How can models that are selling poorly or that have poor initial quality attain decent, even high scores for their launch/re-launch? Drilling down, J.D. Power’s VLI scores include turn rate, vehicle revenue, dealer gross profit, incentive spend, credit quality, residual value, customer appeal and initial quality.

J.D. Power’s famous Initial Quality Survey (IQS) combines two totally different elements: design quality and mechanical quality. As a result, the line between them is muddled. In fact, it’s still not entirely clear what a particular IQS score represents.

With the VLI, J.D. Power has taken this lack of clarity to a whole new level. Where the IQS has two subscores, the VLI has [at least] eight. So when looking at any particular score, it’s impossible to say what it represents. The Ford Flex and VW Routan did well at . . . some things. The Audi A4 blew it with . . . maybe the same things. Maybe something else. Who knows?

These model subscores aren’t the only part of the VLI that J.D. Power’s keeping from public scrunity. The actual formula has also been kept under wraps. Nothing is said about how the variables and weights in this secret formula were determined—except that the formula followed from “carefully analyzing more than 90 vehicle launches.”

Without knowing this formula, it’s far from clear how much weight each factor receives. Judging from the scores, initial quality doesn’t carry much weight. Nor does how close a model comes to achieving its sales targets. Maybe all eight-plus factors are equally weighted, such that none of them carries much weight by itself?

One thing is clear: the VLI isn’t evaluating launches from a car buyer’s perspective.

Car buyers, who’ve learned to be wary of buying a new model in its first year, are focused on their need for information on a vehicle’s initial reliability. “Appeal” they can judge with their own eyes. They couldn’t care less about dealer profitability and inventory turns (whatever that is). Car buyers’ needs would be much better served by a metric that focuses on initial reliability and that provides this information as quickly as possible. [Fair disclosure: Mr. Karesh’s TrueDelta offers a Car Reliability Survey offers that information.]

Of course, it should come as no surprise that a J.D. Power-crafted metric would focus on the manufacturer’s needs. J.D. Power earns its millions by serving manufacturers, not by serving car buyers. Their M.O.: persuade manufacturers that they need a high score based on a proprietary formula, then sell them the data and consulting services that will help them boost their scores.

In the official press release, J.D. Power offers some tips to its corporate benfactors gratis: set realistic prices, set realistic sales targets, style the vehicle well, and achieve high initial quality. (Notable by their absence: advertising and PR.) Of course, everyone in the biz already knows this much; much as everyone knows that the way to lose weight is to eat less and exercise more. The hard part isn’t knowing what should be done, but doing it.

Meanwhile, J.D. gets another service to sell to the biz, while auto industry execs get more hardware for their ego shelf and another bullet point for their resume. Well good for them. But the VLI’s yet another example of car biz navel gazing, a metric that marginalizes a central, well-established fact: the customer comes first.

In the wake of JD Powers’ Initial Quality Survey, several other lesser-known awards are giving OEMs a whole new reason to cobble together a press release touting their top place, improvement or mere presence in one of these meaningless satisfaction surveys. And why not? It’s summer, and things (sales, in specific) are slow. And the award fandango is win-win. The awards allow OEMs to ridiculously inflate the importance of their results, while publicizing the research firms that created the awards. Case in point, the Dodge Ram.

The Ram got top full-size truck honors in the “Strategic Vision Total Quality Index,” a result that prompted the Chrysler Blog headline “Ram Ranked as Best Truck Ever (No Exaggeration).” Except that the survey (like so many meaningless surveys) only gathers impressions of quality and satisfaction from owners of 2008/2009 models, providing a less-than complete picture of “total quality.” In other words, yes exaggeration. But by embracing subjectivity and endless categorization, the awards dance keeps shuffling along.

“We know Total Quality is strengthened by delighting customers and getting them to love you. We stand ready to include love in all the work that we do since measuring love is the next step in discriminating between winning and losing in today’s competitive environment,” explains Strategic Vision’s Darrel Edwards.

But how do you measure such an ineffable emotion with any reliability? As the Bard put it, “love is not love which alters when it alteration [Ed: or awkward panel gap] finds, Or Bends with the remover to remove. O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark.” In short, who doesn’t love their new car? Finding out whether a car lives up to its owner’s expectations is more a measure of the owners than the car.

“Vehicles that score highest in the Vehicle Satisfaction Awards hit the mark with their buyers by delivering value and satisfaction across a wide range of attributes,” says George Peterson, of Auto Pacific, and grand pimp of the 2009 Vehicle Satisfaction Awards. “The winners perform well in 48 separate categories that objectively measure the ownership experience.”

Leaving the challenge of “objectively measuring satisfaction” aside for a moment, that’s 48 freaking categories! Which means every OEM is guaranteed to have at least one “class-leading” vehicle to brag about in press release which backhandedly legitimizes the award. Which is the whole point.

Not that such circle-jerkery is necessarily an inherently bad thing. People often buy cars for irrational reasons, a fact that has gone a long way towards making the auto industry what it is today. If consumers want to factor an aggregation of opinion and after-the-fact purchase justification into their decisions, so be it. But it’s not like either partner in the awards fandango acknowledges that the data in question is scarcely an improvement on a single random opinion of a given car.

“In a year that promises to be the toughest in more than a decade, car buyers are being especially prudent, and the data we’ve analyzed for the Vehicle Satisfaction Award will help this year’s customers make wise purchase decisions,” says Peterson of his award. “We’ve found that more than 25% of respondents are positively influenced by awards like the VSA when deciding on a car and this trend will certainly continue given the economy.”

But wise purchase decisions have nothing to do with it. These awards are little more than marketing information, to be overemphasized by marketing departments. To the consumer, a test drive will tell you more about your likely satisfaction with a given vehicle than any survey can (incidentally,whatever happened to the 24 hour test drive?). Meanwhile, despite slow sales across the industry, every OEM has at least one “winner.” And therein lies the real problem.

The proliferation of meaningless awards contributes to what is already one of the banes of the auto industry: attention span drain. Just as most consumers would be hard pressed to match every automotive brand with its OEM, the public is so inundated with quality survey awards that it’s impossible to expect consumers to seperate the wheat from the chaff. And the wild divergence in results only adds to the confusion.

Jaguar/Land Rover and Volkswagen, for example, may rank towards the bottom in more objective long-term quality and reliability testing, but a press release based on the opinions of buyers who have yet to experience engine sludging or electrical issues conveniently allows them to tout their quality and out-publicize their negative results.

Meanwhile, the awards keep on coming. There are infinite paths to an ill-advised vehicle purchase, but awards purporting to measure intangible attributes using questionable methodologies continue to be the best publicized of the bunch. Deluding consumers and OEMs alike may be good for business, but not in any meaningful or sustainable way.

Consumers, in particular, would be well served to ditch the annual awards and focus instead on methodical, long-term reliability studies such as Consumer Reports or True Delta. If emotional reactions to a vehicle are (for some reason) important to your buying decision, even online forums offer a broader range of reactions and dialogue than an awards aggregate. The truth is out there, but only if you look past the press releases touting useless awards.

The so-called “Cash for Clunkers” legislation demonstrates everything that’s wrong with a political process playing in the market arena.  It’s legislation that will do little to improve car sales. But it will drive traffic to dealers—mostly credit bandits scurrying around trying to buy new cars they can’t really afford.

There is one fundamental issue which restricts the usefulness of either the House version or the Senate (Feinstein-sponsored eco-version) of the legislation. Simply put, many current owners of low-value vehicles are unlikely to possess the resources to acquire outright for cash or qualify for financing on a new vehicle. Such owners are typically used car buyers, not new car buyers, and are likely the second, third, or later owner of said vehicle.

The benefit of the voucher diminishes as the value of the new vehicle increases (on a percentage basis), so customers with larger passenger vehicles or trucks looking to buy new of comparable size receive less perceived value from the voucher.

And worse, the value of the voucher limits qualifying vehicles to those which have an actual cash value (ACV) below the voucher value and also have EPA combined mileage rating low enough to meet the required mileage threshold gain or the limit to qualify in the first place (18 mpg for passenger cars in HR2571 or 17 mpg for all classes in the Feinstein bill).

The combination of these two factors limits the pool of vehicles to mostly older large passenger cars, SUVs, and trucks. Smaller vehicles, such as more recent vintage Honda Civics and Toyota Corollas, would not qualify for vouchers, as their combined mileage rating exceeds the maximum threshold value already in either bill and are likely worth more than the voucher anyways.

One key provision is that the vehicle traded must be owned and insured by the current owner for at least one year and must be in “drivable condition.” This will limit the formation of a “secondary market” of voucher-eligible vehicles and hence will not raise the minimum value on clunkers sitting on dealer lots. (It cannot be assumed that everyone will be honest and it’s not far fetched to believe that there will be fraud on the ownership requirements.)

The one category of vehicles that will likely gain the most from this program: the compact truck segment, such as the Ford Ranger, Toyota Tacoma, Nissan Frontier, and, perhaps, the Chevy Colorado. The base models of these vehicles tend to be relatively inexpensive, with four-cylinder engines. Owners can maximize the value of the voucher on a percentage basis on a price basis, especially when manufacturer rebates and dealer discounts are included.

And the maximum voucher could be obtained by buyers coming out of larger engine passenger vehicles (such as an old Monte Carlo) trading for a new light truck to gain the bigger mileage boost to qualify for the biggest voucher.  These buyers need transportation (and financial assistance) in order to get a new vehicle – and the type of vehicle may be less important to them.

While this “cash for clunkers” program appears to be successful in Germany, there are other factors at work there. For example, small cars are more prevalent in Europe than in the USA (due to energy costs). Then there’s the qualifying restriction; it’s simply based on vehicle age: nine years or older. And the fact that the rebate is equivalent to the German VAT paid on smaller mass-market cars. Many manufacturers also matched the government rebate, making lower cost vehicles even more affordable. [NB: larger vehicles, particularly in the luxury class, saw very little benefit from the program.]

The net benefit of this program will not necessarily come from sales of new vehicles, but rather a government-sponsored marketing effort (courtesy of the news media and dealer promotion) to drive traffic to new car dealers.  Without a doubt, owners of low value vehicles of any type will consider exploring a new car purchase in response to the hype of vouchers providing a minimum value on their existing vehicle. But most of them probably can’t qualify for financing (and don’t have the cash anyways), so they’ll either leave disappointed or end up driving home in a newer used car.

All in all, don’t expect the proposed Cash4Clunkers legislation to create a big boost in U.S. new car sales. It’s just a promotion by the government to make it look like it’s a good thing for the environment and the economy.  But what’s really scary: it foretells a future where the government will really start to modify our taste for fun, powerful (but less fuel efficient) vehicles through coercive taxes and penalties—while promoting Pelosi-cars through government giveaways.

The Senate should kill this wasteful legislation now before things really get crazy. May I suggest you call yours?

The Web as we know it is a teenager, but car makers seem to think it’s a baby: cute, with much potential, but inscrutable and insomnia-inducing. One could think of numerous, obvious new applications for automotive marketing, but we don’t see them in practice. Click on a manufacturer’s site to get an instant, confirmed test drive appointment for a car of your ideal configuration? Nope. Can you publicize your satisfaction or dissatisfaction with a dealer on a maker’s site (similar to what yelp.com is enabling for all kinds of services)? No dice. Indeed, most commercial car stuff on the web is conventional, and boring. But recently I’ve heard of some Web-based brand-building that is supposed to be better. Here are three examples from the UK.

Volkswagen has created an online racing game for its new Golf GTI. Players can take to a 30ft by 25ft slot car track and negotiate hairpins, straights and narrow bridges. (They use the UK term “Scalextric” in the game, but you don’t have to worry about this). In other words, it’s a simulation of a racing simulation from the 1950s. If you’re not miserable at it, then be prepared to get a message saying “you’ve registered a lap time of x seconds and you’ve qualified for a chance to win a GTI for 3 months!”

It sounds incredibly lame, but the implementation is quite charming (in an English way). I doubt it works in non-British cultures though, and I am sure it wouldn’t translate into any real-world sales if the VW GTI weren’t so good. Playing slot cars is fun when you’re spending two hours with pals, whooping and drinking; but as a video game, it gets sad after about 15 minutes.

It’s a marketing maxim that men like games but women like stories. In that vein, Renault TV is less about how James May would spend an afternoon and more about trying to make a brand sympathetic to a general (i.e., more female) audience. The French manufacturer says it’s an alternative to advertising. Apparently, it offers “more varied messages, creating deeper audience engagement,” by focusing on people, through features on Renault enthusiasts and celebrity drivers. (Renault enthusiasts? I didn’t know they still existed.)

Launch programs include a BBC star driving his vintage Renault 4 from London to Mongolia, entertainingly telling us how some Kazakhs who helped him en route were “absolute idiots”. Another of several well-produced clips is about a bird sanctuary in the Camargue. (Anti-SUV note of the day: you don’t need one to transport injured flamingos or building beams).

I also enjoyed the report on the the cars that a former Renault head of R&D has collected, featuring as it does delectable Alpines and Spyders. Included, and not to be missed: footage of the legendary F1 Espace, a minivan that did 0-60 in two seconds. Along with a feature on the R5/LeCar (believe it or not, we Europeans loved that car), it tries to reinforce the brand’s heritage. Conceivably, this sort of entertaining storytelling can strengthen a brand.

However, the “Autotainment” section, where a PR lady pumps current Renaults, is mostly boring and unbelievable—the kind of advertising nobody wants to watch. So, it almost defeats Renault TV’s premise: to invest in the brand by humanizing it, and not just to push product.

Honda’s “C It Now” (CIN) is a world’s first: a dealership-to-home video technology that “promises to revolutionise car sales.” The idea: buyers in their homes can take a live, detailed tour of a new or used car via a camcorder held by someone at a dealership. A demonstration looks promising, but I’m not convinced this is the future.

What I need from a used-car salesman is his reliable word that a car is as described, or, alternatively, I need a scoring system à la eBay. A video can’t prove to me there is no dog smell, out-of alignment suspension or scratched paint. Also, despite a useful training video, I’m skeptical about the average used-car salesman’s willingness and ability to do a good video presentation.

Honda says a car can now be purchased without the buyer seeing it in the metal, but would you? On the other hand, Honda hints at the real reason why CIN might become popular: “CIN allows people to shop for cars at their leisure, a real bonus for those who don’t want to make the trip to a showroom.” In other words: if you don’t like the looks of that pesky salesman, don’t worry about him getting pushy. Just close your browser.

How many Mercedes owners change their own oil to save a few bucks? The latest “Meet the Volkswagens” TV ad doesn’t just insult Benz owners’— and everyone else’s—intelligence. It’s also racially insensitive. By depicting a white guy with his face blackened with oil, it raises the specter of 19th century minstrel shows. OK, that’s a stretch. But so is VW’s supposition that reminding customers of their over-familiarity with their local dealer’s service department is a good thing. And what does a Microbus sliding out of a nearby garage have to do with anything, Amigo? Wait . . . cue-up the Routan commercial . . .

There’s that Microbus again, with its “Cars” rip-off happy hippy stoner’s voice (as opposed to the Beetle’s Arte Johnson-esque German accent). In this ad, the Routan asks an Odyssey owner if her van has an “autobahn-tuned suspension.” Instead of checking her meds, soccer Mom replies that there’s no autobahn in Japan. True! Nor is there an autobahn in Canada, where Chrysler builds the Routan. Or Lincoln, Alabama, where Honda builds the Odyssey. Or the rest of America, where Odyssey mom lives. To the same point, the day a Routan driver explores the limits of her minivan’s autobahn-tuned suspension is the day I’m parking my Audi.

Needless to say, VW doesn’t have the corner on bad commercials. Suzuki’s “Supercar” ad makes it look like an SX-4—or any other car— can’t traverse a pothole without shifting into 4WD. How about Saturn’s recent campaign, where they attempt to reassure their remaining customers that they’re still the “just plain folks” brand that they were back when they were barbecuing—I mean building cars—in Tennessee? A Saturn salesman warns viewers that there’s a car company out there that’ll take your car away from you if you lose your job. Jeez. How un-American is that?

He’s alluding to the “Hyundai Assurance” program where you can return the car with no impact on your credit rating if you lose your job and can’t make payments. Mr. Saturn makes it sound like Hyundai’ll hunt you down and pry the car from your hands as soon as you’re unemployed. Then Saturn man assures you that his [temporary] employer would never treat you that way. Really? Anyone want to guess what Saturn will do the day after their nine-month grace period on payments expires and you’re still unemployed and not making the payments?

And what happens to Saturn’s “Total Confidence” plan after GM sells the “ReThink” brand to the Chinese or Roger Penske or whomever shows up with cash in hand? Or no one at all? Call me cautious but I wouldn’t feel too confident about Saturn’s ability to back any of their promises at this juncture.

Chrysler’s latest commercials proclaim that the bankrupt company (shhhh!) builds dugouts, lockers, easy chairs, radar systems, TV stations, starting gates, skyscrapers, fish finders, battery chargers, base camps, luxury suites, transporters, mechanical bulls, sanctuaries, viewmasters, security cameras, troop transports, and moving vans. No wonder their sales numbers looks so bad. They’ve been building all these neat things while everyone else is building cars and trucks. But don’t worry, be happy! It’s all backed by the U.S. Government, so buy your whatever-it- is they build with total confidence!

Ford wants you to know they’re still building trucks. BIG trucks. In fact, one commercial highlights their extra-cost tailgate and bedside steps and tells you how much you need them to get in and out of the bed of the F-150.  Well, if they’re that important, why aren’t they standard? Or even better, if it’s such a chore to get stuff out of the back, why doesn’t Ford make the F-150 a more manageable size so you can just reach over the side to get what you want, like you could a few years back?

If you’re Chevy, and you can’t match the competition’s feature, you just make fun of it! In a Silverado commercial, Howie Long ridicules an F-150 driver (the usual stereotypical clumsy, balding, overweight schlub they use when they want you to know someone’s less than a “real” man) for using his “man step.” It’s the same sort of “you’re a faggot” put-down used by brain-dead high school football players (not to stereotype or anything) on classmates who can program a computer.

After questioning their competition’s customers’ sexuality, Chevy brags about Silverado’s “unbeatable” five year/100K mile powertrain warranty. But they won’t compare their warranty to the Dodge Ram’s lifetime powertrain warranty. Instead, they just belittle the Ram’s less-than-real-man owner for having a heated steering wheel and a manicure.

One good thing that’s come from the auto industry meltdown: fewer car commercials. Unfortunately, the remaining ones are getting worse, as the automakers grow increasingly desperate for sales. They’ll try anything to attract attention, whether it’s lying, belittling the competition or insulting viewers’ intelligence. Come to think of it, what’s changed?

All’s not well with Turtle Wax. To wit: in a recent Piston Slap article, numerous commentators made less-than-flattering remarks about the brand’s products and image, indicating that Turtle Wax is suffering a dramatic loss of brand equity. It’s a big problem at a bad time. Last October, 3M acquired Meguiar’s. Barry Meguiar is a tireless and charismatic promoter who’s deeply in tune with car care gestalt. With the normally staid Triple M’s enormous resources behind him, the Divine Mr. M could put a serious hurt on Tommy the Turtle. It’s time to put the terrapin’s marketing under the microscope.

The crux of Turtle Wax’s problem was apparent the moment I entered the company’s wood-paneled conference room. The company displayed a farrago of Turtle Wax branded products, sporting vastly different color schemes, graphics, containers and brand names. Why wasn’t everything in a “Turtle Wax Green” bottle, with Tommy the Turtle placed front and center?

Potato chips. Your local grocery store carries a huge variety of potato chips: regular, fat-free, low-calorie, ruffled, jalapeño, small bags, big bags, etc. Potato chip makers don’t like this product fragmentation; it’s expensive to create and stock new variations. But retailers want their shelves filled with as much variety as possible. If a potato chip maker doesn’t play the game, another manufacturer grabs their shelf space.

Same deal at AutoZone. They allocate shelf space according to product lines, not sales of individual products. In other words, the classic green bottle may account for 40 percent of Turtle Wax sales, but it doesn’t get 40 percent of Turtle Wax’s shelf space. The challenge: how do you create a huge “family” of car care products that look similar enough to extend the brand without triggering Stendhal Syndrome?

In this Meguiar’s has the edge. All of its products feature a large script of the brand name over a black/maroon background. In contrast, Turtle Wax has reduced Tommy to a polo shirt logo, and slapped him on all manner of color schemes and container types (thanks to the logo, they all include the word “wax”). AND there are completely Tommy-less Turtle Wax products, some of which have nothing to do with traditional Turtle Wax car care (e.g., CD2 Engine Treatment).

Turtle Wax is aware of their packaging problems. Their redesigned Zip Wax bottle shows progress towards a more unified front, but there’s no question that their band extensions are cannibals out of control. The Turtle Wax website has a prominent “Help Me Choose” function where you can select from three products that all do roughly the same thing—without being able to choose multiple preferences.

Turtle Wax’s ICE brand points to an even uglier truth: success doesn’t always breed success.

Thanks in part to a distribution deal with Wal-Mart, ICE is America’s number one car care product. But the product’s association with the massest of mass market retailers alienates a wealthier, more automotively diverse demographic of car enthusiasts. Which creates a perception gap large enough for the Zainos (via word-of-mouth), Mothers (with their über-exclusive Shine Award) and Barry Meguiars (Host of Car Crazy) of the world to cut into their business.

ICE’s mass market positioning—offering a product without prominent Turtle Wax branding—makes it vulnerable to attacks from below (cheap, no-name knock-offs) and above (premium products reaching down for sales). Turtle Wax reps said the recession is adding brand insensitive customers looking to shine their old ride. It’s not clear how co/re/de-branding a Turtle Wax product could be considered the best way to create future loyalty.

For those who believe branding is bullshit and choose products for their attributes, consider this: after relaying TTAC commentator kurtamaxxguy’s query about the polymer quality of ICE versus its competitors, Turtle Wax indirectly admitted the differences are like consumer perception for Coke and Pepsi. And the (claimed) lukewarm reception to Proctor and Gamble’s excellent “Mr. Clean” system proves that better living through better chemistry isn’t The Truth About Turtle Wax.

Does any of this sound familiar? A company that adds sub-brands to expand its market share, and then loses market share to more focused competitors? The parallels with GM run even deeper.

Turtle Wax is big in China. Channeling their inner Buick, Turtle Wax does well at Chinese Sam’s Club outlets, selling the same ICE kit that you’ll find in the US for roughly five times more coin (about $100). Each store averages around 100 units annually. Meanwhile, Turtle Wax doesn’t sell their full product range in the PRC; the Chinese ICE brand (not Turtle Wax) has no fraternal or external competitors. For now.

Like GM, Turtle Wax’s future depends on recognizing and highlighting their core values and applying them across a more limited product spectrum, in a coherent, effective and instantly recognizable way.

[Turtle Wax paid for Sajeev’s airfare, transfers, hotel, meals and accommodation. They have also provided sample products for review at no charge.]

Britain’s recently presented budget contains a new vehicle scrappage incentive, making Old Blighty the final major European economy to jump on the alleged “green stimulus” bandwagon. Thirteen other European nations, including France, Germany, Italy, Spain and Poland, have introduced similar measures, which provide government incentives to new car buyers who scrap an older vehicle. But will Britain’s new program (which offers up to $2,900 in incentives) have the same salutary effects on new car sales as France (March sales up 8 percent) and Germany’s (March new registrations up 40 percent)? Closer to home, how will the solidified Euro-consensus on scrappage schemes affect the chances of a similar program in the US? Although the programs have already been hailed as the savior of European new car-sales, these things don’t always translate well across different markets. Under a critical lens, issues with the latest British plan indicate a number of problems with bringing such a program stateside.

Britain’s plan to provide about $3K towards a new car purchase per 10-year-or-older scrapped vehicle seeks to limit the measure’s impact on an already-tight budget, likely in response to Germany’s massive oversubscription to the program. As our Bertel Schmitt has reported, what began as a €1.5 billion program has ballooned into a €5 billion expenditure. To limit this kind of cost overrun, the British plan (sensibly enough) limits the offer to “only” 300,000 purchases. But beyond the numerical limitation, the British government is also requiring the “auto industry” to provide half of the incentive, about $1,500 per car. Who will be responsible for providing the second half of this incentive (importers, retailers, manufacturers)? Still no word from Downing Street.

Commentators like The Telegraph‘s Mike Rutherford have expressed concerns as to whether the industry will actually step up with the extra $1,500. It’s safe to say that the industry’s  enthusiasm level likely won’t equal the government’s, which will see its modest outlay more than returned by new vehicle VAT receipts. Moving past the question of whether this is a $1,500 incentive not a $3K incentive, Rutherford isn’t alone in expressing serious doubt as to whether consumers will materially benefit from the measure.

A web-based auto retail manager defines part of the problem to Bloomberg: “The U.K. car market is entirely different to those on the continent in that buyers typically change their car after three years when the finance agreement and warranty expire.” Besides a possible shortage of older cars to be scrapped, there’s also an issue of new vehicle availability, as imports to the Isles have been cut in line with falling demand.

And, as Rutherford points out, many 10-year or older vehicles may be worth considerably more than even the manufacturer-matched full $3K (especially considering Britain is crawling with classic and near-classic car nuts). Even more troubling, the incentive could end up shrinking the massive incentives already offered by manufacturers on new cars. $7,000 incentives on Fords and 40 percent discounts on Opels could dry up in the face of government stimulus, actually creating worse conditions for new car buyers. Throw in the likelihood of a dramatic drop-off in sales when the stimulus runs out (assuming it functions as planned) and the devastating effects on newer used car prices and fleet values (estimated to wipe out nearly $9 billion in value nationwide) and the British plan appears fraught with potential problems, even having learned from the experiences of continental cash-for-clunker experiments.

Back in the states, there seems to be little doubt that some form of cash-for-clunker scrappage bill will become law. Reuters reports that Goldman Sachs is already upgrading FoMoCo’s rating on the twin assumptions that GM and Chrysler will enter bankruptcy and that a clunker bill will be passed. Two competing bills have already been introduced (Tom Harkin’s S.3737 and Betty Sutton’s H.R.1550) and industry lapdog John Dingell has promised to include a similar provision in the upcoming climate change bill. This despite warnings from Britain that clunker bills are extremely inefficient as an environmental measure at best, and could actually increase carbon emissions.

The major concern with a possible US clunker bill is the indication that only “domestically produced” vehicles would qualify for federal bob. Both Harkin and Sutton’s bills have some form of “Buy American” stipulations. Harkin’s is particularly protectionist, while Sutton’s includes vouchers for certain vehicles built in North America (although at lower levels than vehicles “manufactured in the US”). Dingell will certainly try his darndest to funnel voucher money directly to Detroit. Though these measures seek to mitigate a lack of manufacturing stimulus that has been a noted criticism of European scrappage bills, yet more unintended consequences await such provisions: namely challenges on free-trade terms from Canada and Europe.

But such measures will be necessary to ensure any benefit at all to the US industry, which has weaknesses in its small-car portfolio, where scrappage-stimulated sales have been boosted the most. Absent environmental and manufacturing benefits (assuming the US wants to avoid a nasty trade war), a scrappage bill will benefit only scrap yards and new-car dealers. And yet an overabundance of dealers is fundamental to the auto industry’s wider woes. Though Europe’s scrappage results look good on paper to a sales-starved US industry, the consequences don’t seem to outweigh the benefits.

A few weeks of vacation from the blogosphere’s non-stop news cycle can leave a blogger feeling a bit behind the times. Two weeks is an eternity in internet time, but stepping away from the barrage of news, spin, hype and hysteria is good for the sense of perspective. Especially if the down time is spent exploring countries on the local typical family vehicle, complete with two wheels, four speeds and about 100ccs of thundering power. Beyond the sheer novelty of seeing entire families commuting on a moped (“Daddy, Nguyen isn’t staying on his side of the pillion seat”), travel in the developing world shows how insulated America is from the transportation realities of the rest of the world. If the $1,000 entry to the world of moped ownership is a major (if attainable) hurdle for workaday Vietnamese, even sub-$10K vehicles face what a GM sales release might call “a challenging sales environment.” Try to explain the “green premium” for hybrids and plug-in vehicles to an auto-aspirational third-worlder, and watch as the idea of paying more for less room and power draws only puzzled bemusement. Hair shirts, it appears, are strictly a fad for the western and wealthy. Case in point: the world’s first plug-in hybrid, the Chinese BYD F3DM.

BYD’s Corolla-aping PHEV raised more than a few eyebrows (many skeptical) when specs and concepts first appeared. Warren Buffet’s hefty investment into the cell phone battery maker quieted the skeptics and gave green-hued futurists a license to thrill. A 60-mile plug-in range, a multiple-mode hybrid system and a price tag under $25K had American hypermilers factoring in local tax credits and greengasming at the fantasy of it all. But in the world’s new largest market for automobiles, even $20K is a huge amount of money. And it turns out that one society’s eco-fantasy is another society’s overpriced, overly-complex answer to a question nobody has asked.

Xinhua reports (yes, nearly a week ago) that BYD’s F3DM has utterly failed to attract Chinese consumers; the firm has sold only 80 models since it went on sale in December. Apparently 20 of those were bought by the city of Shenzhen (think China’s Detroit) with the rest going to the local branch of China Construction Branch. In fact, BYD never even attempted to target private consumers with the model, despite the fact that an F3DM costs 30-40 percent less than a Toyota Prius (which only sold about 3,500 units in China between 2006 and 2008). Even the government isn’t rushing to put its citizens in the alleged volks-hybrid, offering a $7K hybrid subsidy to fleet buyers only.

Even with government help bringing the F3DM’s price under $20K, fleet sales aren’t as strong as BYD had hoped. Shenzen’s plan to buy more for the city’s taxi fleet is on hold as even BYD officials admit that the price needs to come down. BYD’s CEO Wang Chuanfu says that increasing production volume could help bring the F3DM’s price to a more-realistic $15K, but without institutions stepping up to prime the sales pump, the promise of a sub-$10K PHEV (after government subsidies)—and mass market sales—remain out of reach.

And even though the F3DM isn’t dependent on a charging-station infrastructure, price isn’t the only concern keeping buyers away. BYD faces an image challenge having never made anything more car-like than a laptop battery just a few years ago, and even its much-vaunted battery technology seems to struggle to meet on-paper performance numbers. According to Xinhua (hardly bomb-throwers when it comes to Chinese businesses), the 60-mile electric range is only attainable driving at a steady 30 mph. And recharging from a home wall socket takes nine hours.

But these tradeoffs and the correlating plug-in efficiency rewards only have meaning in the context of price, and here the lesson for Chevy’s Volt are plain to see. GM’s $40K profitless wonder defies fiscal logic on a comparable scale, offering only the most image-conscious greenies a value proposition worth even including. Like the F3DM, the Volt’s target audience (if not consumer) is the government, and the same increased volume-decreased price mirage lingers on the horizon. But unlike China (BYD expects its sales to double for the second year in a row, hitting 400,000 units), America’s demand for automobiles is in double-digit decline. And that includes demand for the much cheaper hybrids that are already available in the marketplace.

But we don’t have theorize about private PHEV sales levels for much longer. Shenzhen rolled out hybrid subsidies for private consumers this month which would cut the price of an F3DM in half, to about $10K. This coincides with a BYD plan to launch “a mass marketing excercise to promote the car to private buyers.” But if the car-crazed, yet pragmatic Chinese do start buying the F3DM, it will be at half the original MSRP, a feat that GM can’t hope to pull off with its Volt. Unless they just slap in powertrains from BYD, which is hedging its consumer-market gamble by offering to license technology to Western firms. In any case, BYD’s consumer sales push will give us some idea of private PHEV demand (and its required stimulus) by the time the Volt launches. Sales trends are easier to follow when they start at 80 units per quarter.