THE front-page headline of The
Detroit News last Monday blared “GM Powers Up” in letters of a size usually
reserved for
bulletins like “WAR ENDS.” For a day at least,
General Motors owned industry bragging rights
with its introduction of the
Chevrolet Volt electric car at the North American
International Auto Show. Investors were happy;
G.M.’s stock price rose a bit.
There was, however, one problem:
The Volt does not run. The batteries
it requires to deliver the driving range
and economy G.M.
promised have not been developed. Granted,
G.M. was candid about this shortcoming, and the
Volt is at least as close to reality
as many of the so-called concept cars that
appeared at the show in the past.
So why do carmakers push ideas
that don’t quite work, or innovations
that aren’t quite finished, into the bright
global spotlight
of the annual auto show here?
Fact is, for decades automakers
have used exhibitions like this
to showcase dream cars with dreamed-up powertrains
wholly
incapable of their advertised feats. Putting
wings on the fenders may not make a flying car,
but it may be enough to get some
publicity for your company. Journalists on
the auto beat quickly learn to take the more outlandish
claims — cars with
soybean-based bodies, or those said to have
lightning-quick acceleration while achieving
100 miles a gallon
— with several grains of salt.
The people who create such dream
machines say they are just continuing
a long tradition of using auto shows as
idea factories.
With their concept cars they are testing the
waters, thinking out loud, exploring the outer
edges of what might be possible
— or playing a game of liar’s poker, trying
to psych out the competition.
In the book, “Modern Chrysler Concept Cars,” the author Matt DeLorenzo noted that from 1987 to 1999, Chrysler produced
As word leaked out that these
and other concept car engines were
less than sincere efforts by manufacturers
perhaps
more interested in headlines than making real
products, reporters began to ask tougher questions
about powertrain feasibility.
In 2000, in response to skeptics
who wondered whether the current
crop of concept cars would really run,
G.M. invited the press,
to drive the cars at its Michigan proving
ground. The test was tightly regulated: a G.M.
employee was to accompany the driver
and the cars could not be driven above 25
m.p.h.
The results were not persuasive;
the Buick LaCrosse, a retro-themed
concept bristling with electronic controls,
trapped its
occupants inside because an electrical failure
prevented the experimental Quiet Servant voice-command
system from obeying
a crucial spoken command, “Open doors.”
The engine froze up on another
concept car, the Cadillac Imaj.
When I asked the engineer assigned to the
GMC Terradyne
pickup to accompany me on a drive, he muttered
something like, “I told them this wasn’t a good
idea.” After about 100 feet
of slow-speed chugging, the Terradyne’s engine
(said to be a 6.6-liter turbodiesel V-8) seized
up and the pickup was towed away.
And while G.M. was forthright
this year that its Volt wasn’t yet
a running vehicle, not all manufacturers
seemed inclined to full
disclosure. Many of today’s concepts, unveiled
amid great fanfare, still don’t have roadworthy
engines. Some have no engine at all.
For example, Nissan is showing
off its engineless (and hoodless)
Bevel concept car at this year’s Detroit
show.
Nissan says the Bevel’s power would come from
a hybrid electric version of a “small, efficient
V-6,” although Nissan has not made
that powertrain. Obviously, the Bevel isn’t
going anywhere — literally or figuratively.
The engine almost seems irrelevant
with two of Mazda’s 2007 design
studies, the Nagare and Ryuga, which appear
to have
been styled without considering where the
mechanical bits might be installed.
Ford’s Airstream concept, in
theory at least, would be a plug-in
electric-hydrogen hybrid car using a system
that remains
unperfected even after years of technical
exploration.