These days I ponder the future of performance at GM a lot more than I used to. For obvious reasons, it affects where the content of this magazine is headed in the years ahead. But there's more to it than that. You might think of me as the editor of GMHTP first, but I'd argue that I'm foremost a GMHTP reader and GM EFI enthusiast. That's why it bothers me when I read quotes like this one given by GM vice chairman Bob Lutz at the 2001 SEMA Show, and published in the November 5 issue of Automotive News:
"Performance is more than just raw, straight-line performance, which was personified, perhaps, by the Firebird. But there's also sophisticated performance. I would like to see Pontiac get a lot closer in the overall driving experience to BMW, which does not mean raw performance, but overall performance-ride, handling sophistication, (steering responsiveness). There's a lot we can do in that area without having a great big high-torque V8."
If you've got high-octane running in your veins like I do, this statement is the functional equivalent of a knife in the spleen. To this I respond, look Bob, if I want a BMW, I'll buy a BMW. What I really want is a ground-pounding Mack Daddy V8 that will lay rubber from here to Bavaria and leave those snooty German cars gagging on my dust. That's why I bought my '93 Formula in the first place.
Now that I've got that out of my system, I'll say, sticker price notwithstanding, German engineering and manufacturing are arguably second to none. The BMWs I've had the pleasure of driving are superbly-built and extremely refined, but a BMW just ain't my style. Capisce?
So what gives? Isn't Lutz the same guy who pushed the Viper through at Chrysler? A Viper is as far away from a BMW as a performance car can get, so I've gotta believe there's more to this situation than meets the eye.
The fact that Lutz said these things at the 2001 SEMA Show gives the situation an irony of Shakespearean proportion. If ever there was a place you wouldn't want to make a comment like this, it's at the SEMA Show. Big performance without big power is like sizzle without the steak. Talk without the walk. Bark without the bite. SEMA without the chromed 22-inch blades.
My epiphany came three nights ago while watching Ford's new Thunderbird commercial. A Lamborghini Countach with a gearhead driver and a hot babe roll up to a new T-bird at a stop sign. The Lambo's driver revs the gas and beckons his girl to get out and flag a street race with the T-bird. She grudgingly gets out, drops her hanky, and the Lambo peels out, sans T-bird. The T-bird driver asks the girl if she wants a ride and she gets in with him. The two then cruise away slowly.
Thought it was pretty funny too, until I got the message: performance of the motivational kind isn't cool. Style is in, power is out.
And this new marketing strategy isn't limited to Ford either. The Chrysler Prowler and new Chevrolet SSR fall in exactly the same niche as the T-bird. Halo models with powerful looks have always been in favor at dealerships, in corporate boardrooms and, most importantly, with buyers, but the important distinction is that this time around performance is depressingly absent from the visual promise.
Why?
It's real simple. If you can convince premium customers to buy into the dream that power and performance isn't the main thing for a top-of-the-line, must-be-seen-in halo model, then the manufacturer saves big-time. There's no profound impact on CAFE, no gas-guzzler tax, no powertrain development snafus, no warranty claim headaches, and far fewer product liability and insurance concerns. Woo-hoo! Everybody's happy. Except for the real gearheads. (Thank goodness this marketing mentality hasn't gotten on a boat and migrated to Australia and GM's Holden division. Those blokes know cars and they're not about to let their watercooler become tainted with the same stuff haunting Detroit boardrooms and Madison Avenue ad agencies.)