(EXPANDED FROM 5/18/2022)
Karl Ludvigsen has a website called Why Cars Are So Bad. A few years ago he posted on it the text of a speech he delivered back in 1989. Included in his remarks was a question that I think is still important: “will national characteristics continue to play a role in transport design in the future? Yes or no. If yes, why, and if no, why not?” (Ludvigsen, 2022).
My perception is that national characteristics in automotive design have mostly disappeared over the last 36 years. For example, whereas a Mercedes-Benz once looked significantly different from cars designed in Great Britain, France, Sweden, Italy, the United States or Japan, today they all tend to blur together.
And when new cars do stand out, it is usually because of superficial styling gimmicks such as BMW’s recent obsession with grilles that look like Chuck E. Cheese. Or Lexus’ recent infatuation with lobster-claw grilles.
The auto industry’s bean counters would presumably laud the international homogenization of car design. At least in theory, a generic “anycar” could be popular in a larger number of markets than one with nationalistic peccadillos.
In addition, a vehicle whose basic architecture does not deviate too far from the norm could achieve greater economies of scale by being shared with other brands — regardless of their national origin. This has become an increasingly important consideration as the auto industry has consolidated through mergers, acquisitions and partnerships.
Is the homogenization of auto design a good thing?
I would suggest that it is not. For one thing, the blurring of national characteristics serves to reduce consumer choice. Here I should emphasize that when I use the term “design,” I am not just talking about a vehicle’s styling. What made a Mercedes-Benz W123 distinctive wasn’t just superficial features such as its radiator grille. The unique way the car looked was heavily informed by a greater emphasis on space efficiency, aerodynamics and safety than American cars of that time period.
Also see ‘How often did renaming a car fail to help it sell better?’
In other words, what made a Mercedes different was ultimately grounded in the automaker’s underlying philosophy of what a car should be. In the postwar era those corporate philosophies could be dramatically different. Often those differences were heavily influenced by the automaker’s nation of origin. German engineers, product planners and marketeers tended to explore different approaches than, say, their French counterparts.
Today you can still see glimmers of differentiation, but it tends to be superficial — at least among the legacy automakers. Whatever else one might say about the influx of electric vehicle startups, they have brought into the industry some fresh thinking that goes well beyond what a front end should look like.
As a case in point, a Tesla Cybertruck is a strikingly original design. So is a Canoo. Or a Bollinger (go here for further discussion).
All of the EVs just mentioned are of U.S. origin. Thus, one could argue that design diversity can still occur in a globally integrated industry. Perhaps, but a goodly number of these EV startups may also not survive because of the enormous challenges of breaking into the auto industry.
If we are going to see a new era of design diversity, the legacy automakers would need to step back from their tendency to gravitate toward global conformity. In a vague sense that would represent the automotive equivalent of the craft beer movement.
Styling fads could swing back to less homogeneity
Design fads can swing back and forth like a pendulum. At least that’s what designer Jason White (2012) suggested in a blog post he wrote that asked, “So . . . Is Teutonic car design obsolete?”
His answer: “It’s quite possible that someday, some year, the market will grow weary of ‘surface entertainment’ and yearn for something more honest. When that will happen is tough to pinpoint, but history suggests that it eventually will.”
Also see ‘Yes, but WHY do today’s automobiles look so similar?’
That’s certainly plausible, but will the fad be similar to the retro design movement, which amounted to little more than a vapid exercise in brand management (go here for further discussion)?
A genuine revitalization of national design characteristics would require corporate management — and their design staff — to let go of their fear of being too different. It would also require stepping back from a fixation with maximizing economies of scale globally. The only way I see that happening is if a troubled automaker decided in desperation to try something different . . . and it was so popular that other automakers copied them.
NOTES:
This article was originally posted on May 18, 2022 and expanded on October 14, 2024.
Share your reactions to this post with a comment below or a note to the editor.
RE:SOURCES
- Ludvigsen, Karl: 2022. “Talking Transport Design.” Why Cars Are So Bad. Posted May 18.
- White, Jason; 2012. “So . . . Is Teutonic car design obsolete?” AutoDesign. Posted December. Website no longer online.
Was the height of international automotive design the Mercedes-Benz W123 and Peugeot 404 ?
That could very well be.
Interesting article and lots of clear examples of groupthink. Perhaps we should differentiate the leaders from the followers. The M-B S-Class has proceeded along a fairly strict evolution of design over the last 70 years. Aerodynamics played an ever greater role particularly in the 1980s-90s under Bruno Sacco.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bruno_Sacco
I think the current S-Class would look pretty much the same regardless of the competitive pressures acting on it all these years. Its streamlining represents a healthy collaboration between aerodynamic efficiency and styling. The Audi 5000 may well have prodded it initially, but once it got going it needed no more help.
There is also the U.S. pick-up and large body-on-frame SUV market to consider. One could argue that national grounding and individual expression are enjoying a heyday.
Interesting. I’ll briefly step back a bit (and try not to go over the edge!).
Our world seems to be in turmoil. Or do I mean tension? On the one hand you have mass migration of peoples from one country to another, on the other you also have rising nationalism in some quarters. Globally, a push toward multiculturalism is offset by a pushback toward affirming national identity. These pushes seem to be getting more extreme. Given this fluid and unsettled state of society, what would we expect to see reflected in design?
Back in the sixties, society seemed to be a lot calmer, more stable. You knew your country. You tended to stay put, unless you were rich or were pushed. And cars tended to show some sort of national identity. German design was rational, and often carried more chrome than the European norm. British design was conservative, and often seemed to be behind the times. French cars were functional above all else; aesthetics often seemed almost forgotten. Swedish? Well, what did a curvy Saab 99 have in common with a boxy Volvo 144? I’m still trying to figure that one out. Yet even then you had designers like Pininfarina using the same themes and proportions on the Peugeot 404, Fiat 1800 and Austin Cambridge. Yes, there was some difference in detail, sure, but the Fiat didn’t necessarily say Italian, nor the Austin British. Or the Peugeot French. Rather they all said International Modern – until fins went out of fashion before the tooling was paid off.
Yes, America started the tailfin, but other countries followed. America started the formal look Brougham thing, and the rest of the world (mostly) passed.
Design seems to have been circling an aesthetic plughole for the last twenty years or so. Not only is there no national distinctiveness, but there is also no clear direction forward. Business would say there must be new product, but proportions seem to have settled at an optimum: so designers seem to have resorted to fussy applied decoration and a largely meaningless re-crinkling of the sheetmetal to show New.
I look at that Hyundai, Kia and Genesis you showed us, and maybe there is a trend toward simplicity; there is certainly less obtuse decoration, fewer odd bits hanging off, but you have flat-panelled angularity on the Hyundai, a more emotive curvier look on the Kia, and even more curvaceousness on the Genesis. Which is the most modern? Take your pick! The Hyundai is the more distinctive, but does that necessarily make it modern? Is that the way forward?
And then you have Mazda, with even more flamboyance resulting in curious but not unattractive surfacing which would be a panelbeater’s nightmare; it was bad enough on my ’05 3.