I, like many people with a passion for cars, find it easy to be
cynical about the emergence of new marques such as Lexus, Infiniti and Acura in
the late-1980s. Where I differ from most is I don’t regard all of the cars as
`imitations’; I think it is a shame they were deliberately distanced from some
capable and underrated forbears for marketing
purposes.
The new brands were called into being to create ``instant heritage’’ that would allow the Japanese makers to compete against Jaguar, BMW, Mercedes Benz, Cadillac, Lincoln and Chrysler and, to a lesser extent, the bigger Peugeots, Citroens and Alfa
Romeos.
One reason for the up market push was the Japanese corporates
realised there was the potential to make a lot of money. They had evolved
sophisticated manufacturing techniques coupled with an advanced design
capability that delivered quality and reliability that exceeded the best out of
Germany at lower cost. Unfortunately, because of the snob factor, they were
unable to charge the same money for a Cressida (Corona MkII in some markets)
that Mercedes could pull down for a surprisingly similar E-class or BMW for a 5
series sedan.
Pressure, meanwhile, was being applied at the other end of the
scale by the industrial revolution that had been taking place in South Korea.
Low cost, well-optioned peoples’ cars had been the Japanese
industry’s bread and butter since the 1960s when Bluebirds, Corollas, Carinas,
Isuzu Bellets, Hino Contessas, Mazda 1000s, Datsun 1000s and 1600s and the like
blew Hillman Hunters, Austin 1800s, Morris 1100 and 1500s out of the water
around the world. While many of the Japanese cars were quaintly styled and
unfortunately named (think Nissan Cedric and Datsun Fairlady) they usually
performed better, were much more reliable and didn’t fall apart on a corrugated
dirt road like some of the competition.
By the late 1980s the big Japanese makers were well aware the
days of wine and roses were drawing to a close. They had a good knowledge of
what was happening in South Korea, having in some cases, helped set that
industry up, and realised there wasn’t much profit to be found at the bottom
end of the market. When sales success depends on having the cheapest new car on
Parramatta Road the margins are paper thin. You can even sell Ladas if they are
cheap enough.
Quasi prestige models, while expensive to develop and market,
were appealing for a number of reasons.
One is they are very profitable in themselves; another is they can be
used as ``hero cars’’ that add a little lustre to your more plebeian
offerings.
Prestige car buyers are generally pretty thick when it comes to
actual versus perceived value. If you can convince them their new car will be
even more special if they choose a more expensive trim level or super-size the
engine, salesmen can write their own cheques (usually after they have upsold the
wood duck into the invisible true glaze molecular paint protection system
first).
Ask yourself this? Did it really cost Mercedes Benz $US20,000 a
unit more to build a 560SE than a 300SE in 1989? And, more importantly, was M-Bs
most expensive sedan and the ultimate W126 value for money? The then asking
price for the 300SE with the newly introduced SOHC 3 litre six was $US44,850 in
America. The 560SE, with the last iteration of the venerable SOHC V8, cost
$US64,230 or just under 50 per cent more than the identical car with the smaller
engine. I’m intimately familiar with both. You can’t pick them from the driver’s
seat and the 560 is drives like a bloated tank of a thing that hoovers up fuel
at a remarkable rate on even the lightest throttle setting. It may have been a
240km/h car in Germany but certainly wasn’t in the USA specification that was
also sold in Australia.
The 132kw 300SE, in contrast, performs surprisingly strongly
despite a 2.6 litre capacity deficit. It had a top speed of 205km/h and turned
in a 9.4 second 0-100km/h time. The 170kw DOHC version of the same engine could
propel a 1770kg car to 240km/h and reach 100km/h in just 8.5 seconds. An American or Australian delivered 177kw 560SEL will fall well short of both
these figures. Your 50 per cent loading for a flashier boot badge certainly did
not deliver the commensurate increase in performance. Even the 205kw European
560SEs maxed out at 240km/h and took 7.2 seconds to reach
100km/h.
While my point is that the big-bore V8 was priced purely on the
basis of perceived prestige and was poor value for money, it is interesting to
pause to consider why the 300SE went so well and why the 560SE (and to a lesser
extent the 420SE and the 500SE) were so inefficient by comparison. The M103
(SOHC) and M104 (DOHC) sixes were the latest in a range of new engines that had
begun with the introduction of the M102 SOHC 2-litre four in the first 190E.
They were the future while the V-8s, which had first seen the light of day back
in 1972 in 150kw 3.5 litre guise, were the
past.
It’s no wonder Toyota and Nissan thought 1989 was a good to bring
out the Lexus and the Infiniti. The LS 400, the only Lexus likely to achieve
classic status in my opinion, stole a march on M-Bs long overdue W-140 S-class.
Toyota’s finest had a 32-valve quad cam 184 kw V8, 240km/h top speed, and most
importantly, the ability to cruise at 110km/h at 2000 revs. This latter quality
delivered highway fuel consumption of 9l/100km against the 560SE’s 11.1. The
first 30 miles per gallon V8 had
arrived!
While the styling, which combined elements of the Cressida and
the wide-body Camry that was still on the drawing board, was bland it was also
uncontroversial. Buyers, tired of waiting for more than a decade for M-B to come
up with something new, responded positively to the
newcomer.
Infiniti offered a similar mechanical package in its even more
blandly styled Q45, a luxury export to the US (so also a Lexus!), that could
have been mistaken for Ford America’s much cheaper Taurus of the same
year.
While the Q45 and the LS400 served as the point of the spear,
Nissan and Toyota had always planned to use the top end cars to upsell some
their lesser models to a new audience. Nissan borrowed the excellent 3-litre
123kw V6 we saw in the first Australian Maxima for the Infiniti M30 coupe and
cabriolet. The same engine also saw service in the Nissan Leopard which was not
sold here.
Toyota was even more blatant. In addition to selling the LS400 in
its own market (where anti-Toyota snobbery wasn’t a factor) as the Toyota
Celsior, it also promoted the car Australia knew as the Camry V6 to Lexus
Status. Like the ES 300 that followed the LS400 to Australia, the ES 250 was a
better dressed version of its more prosaic sibling with frameless windows and
snazzy trim. Under the bonnet not even a mechanic would be able to tell them
apart.
This is not to say either the ES250 or the ES300 were bad things;
quite the reverse. In terms of sophistication, performance and driveability the
first Camry V6 was right up there with some high priced front wheel drive
product out of France and Germany. That 2.5 litre quad cam 24 valve V6 was
producing 118kw at a time when Holden was proud of 125kw out of 3.8 litre V6 and
140kw out of a 5 litre V8. The Camry V6 was good for 210km/h and went from
0-100km/h in 9 seconds. This is roughly the same as the Mercedes 300SE we were
discussing earlier.
The point to which I have discursively been wending my way for
some time now is that the 1980s had seen a revolution in Japanese manufacturing
and design. Both were world class but, unfortunately, many elements of the
market had failed to pick up on this. How else can you explain M-Bs arrogance in
sticking with the same design for its ultimate sedan for almost 12 years. The
updates were relatively minor and, by the time it went out of production, the
W126 was well and truly yesterday’s hero with dated V8s, appalling fuel
consumption and few if any of the little flourishes that punters were now
looking for.
An Australian businessmen who changed his car every 40,000km
during the 1980s may well have ended up owning six W126s back to back. Is it
little wonder that when the Japanese offered fresher and more efficient
alternatives so many people jumped on the bandwagon?
The lacklustre performance of the Australian car manufacturing
industry in the 1980s, with its failure to embrace new technology capable of
lifting performance, fuel efficiency and reliability, largely blinds us to what a revolutionary time this decade was. When the first 380SE was built it was a revelation. By the time the last 420SE came down the line at Stuttgart it was a glorious and beautiful anachronism in much the same way the XJ6 had become a decade before.
Japan had been able to creep ahead by dint of its long standing
history of blending European technology with Americana styling. I recently
encountered what I consider to be the finest product of this tradition on the
forecourt of a service station in Canberra. It was a 1989 Toyota Crown V8, a
vehicle I consider much more desirable than the blandly inoffensive LS 400.
As the picture on this page indicates, this is a car that could
only have come from Japan. This, to my mind, says it is a more honest representation of the Japanese industry than the toned down prestige models designed for western consumers. The fact the Crown is now almost entirely produced for Japanese domestic consumption bears this out.
So how does the late 1980s Crown V8 stack up against the Lexus?
Quite well in fact. It is smaller, lighter (but solider) and definitely more of
a statement on the road. Wheras the Lexus relied on unitary construction the
Crown was still wedded to a rock-solid box frame chassis. It is 486cm long,
174.5cm wide and, in the hardtop form pictured here, 141cm high.
The LS400, by way of comparison, is 499.5cm long, 182cm wide and 141cm
high.
Fitted with the 140kw DOHC inline six we saw in the last Cressida, the Crown could muscle along quite nicely despite weighing 1620kw in hardtop form. Top speed is rated at 210km with fuel consumption on the highway of about 10l/100km.
The independent suspension was quite sophisticated, apparently borrowing heavily from the Mercedes play book. It utilised semi-trailing arms and air suspension.
While I don’t have the performance figures on the V8 model of the
1989 Crown I believe they would be similar to the LS 400. Both cars shared the
same drivetrain; the 184kw 3969cm V8 married to a four speed automatic with a
3.615 final drive ratio (significantly higher than the 4 final drive ratio used
on the Crown 6). Given the LS400 weighed 1720kg the Crown should, if anything, be
slightly more spritely. That would give it a top speed of 240km/h and a sub-8
second 0-100km/h time. It is unlikely the Crown, which is set more for
cushion-like comfort than handling response at speed, would keep up with its
evil clone on a twisty road however. The big Cs are a popular taxi and executive
transport choice in their home country and the ability to soak up the occasional
Tokyo pothole is rated more highly than the ability to lay down a hot lap at Le
Mans.
The Crown I saw at Gungahlin reawakened long dormant memories of
the string of Cressidas I owned in the late 1990s. They were all great cars;
true `lounge rooms on wheels’ and rarely missed a beat even though they were
usually 10 or 15 years old when I bought
them. It also made me revisit ancient memories of a Prince Gloria 6 I owned in the late 1970s, a wonderful car but one that even then was impossible to obtain the parts to keep on the road.
While it is unlikely I will be swapping either of my Mercedes (a 1974 280E
and a 1995 320SE) for a Crown any time soon, I am glad there are people out there
who appreciate this model enough to import one from Japan and make the effort to
keep it on the road and in near new condition.
Long before the Lexus and the Infiniti ever came along to challenge decades of German and British complacency, cars like the Skyline, the Corona Mk11, the Crown and 240C, 260C and 280C showed that Japan could build cars of quality that had an east meets west appeal that was theirs and theirs alone.
cynical about the emergence of new marques such as Lexus, Infiniti and Acura in
the late-1980s. Where I differ from most is I don’t regard all of the cars as
`imitations’; I think it is a shame they were deliberately distanced from some
capable and underrated forbears for marketing
purposes.
The new brands were called into being to create ``instant heritage’’ that would allow the Japanese makers to compete against Jaguar, BMW, Mercedes Benz, Cadillac, Lincoln and Chrysler and, to a lesser extent, the bigger Peugeots, Citroens and Alfa
Romeos.
One reason for the up market push was the Japanese corporates
realised there was the potential to make a lot of money. They had evolved
sophisticated manufacturing techniques coupled with an advanced design
capability that delivered quality and reliability that exceeded the best out of
Germany at lower cost. Unfortunately, because of the snob factor, they were
unable to charge the same money for a Cressida (Corona MkII in some markets)
that Mercedes could pull down for a surprisingly similar E-class or BMW for a 5
series sedan.
Pressure, meanwhile, was being applied at the other end of the
scale by the industrial revolution that had been taking place in South Korea.
Low cost, well-optioned peoples’ cars had been the Japanese
industry’s bread and butter since the 1960s when Bluebirds, Corollas, Carinas,
Isuzu Bellets, Hino Contessas, Mazda 1000s, Datsun 1000s and 1600s and the like
blew Hillman Hunters, Austin 1800s, Morris 1100 and 1500s out of the water
around the world. While many of the Japanese cars were quaintly styled and
unfortunately named (think Nissan Cedric and Datsun Fairlady) they usually
performed better, were much more reliable and didn’t fall apart on a corrugated
dirt road like some of the competition.
By the late 1980s the big Japanese makers were well aware the
days of wine and roses were drawing to a close. They had a good knowledge of
what was happening in South Korea, having in some cases, helped set that
industry up, and realised there wasn’t much profit to be found at the bottom
end of the market. When sales success depends on having the cheapest new car on
Parramatta Road the margins are paper thin. You can even sell Ladas if they are
cheap enough.
Quasi prestige models, while expensive to develop and market,
were appealing for a number of reasons.
One is they are very profitable in themselves; another is they can be
used as ``hero cars’’ that add a little lustre to your more plebeian
offerings.
Prestige car buyers are generally pretty thick when it comes to
actual versus perceived value. If you can convince them their new car will be
even more special if they choose a more expensive trim level or super-size the
engine, salesmen can write their own cheques (usually after they have upsold the
wood duck into the invisible true glaze molecular paint protection system
first).
Ask yourself this? Did it really cost Mercedes Benz $US20,000 a
unit more to build a 560SE than a 300SE in 1989? And, more importantly, was M-Bs
most expensive sedan and the ultimate W126 value for money? The then asking
price for the 300SE with the newly introduced SOHC 3 litre six was $US44,850 in
America. The 560SE, with the last iteration of the venerable SOHC V8, cost
$US64,230 or just under 50 per cent more than the identical car with the smaller
engine. I’m intimately familiar with both. You can’t pick them from the driver’s
seat and the 560 is drives like a bloated tank of a thing that hoovers up fuel
at a remarkable rate on even the lightest throttle setting. It may have been a
240km/h car in Germany but certainly wasn’t in the USA specification that was
also sold in Australia.
The 132kw 300SE, in contrast, performs surprisingly strongly
despite a 2.6 litre capacity deficit. It had a top speed of 205km/h and turned
in a 9.4 second 0-100km/h time. The 170kw DOHC version of the same engine could
propel a 1770kg car to 240km/h and reach 100km/h in just 8.5 seconds. An American or Australian delivered 177kw 560SEL will fall well short of both
these figures. Your 50 per cent loading for a flashier boot badge certainly did
not deliver the commensurate increase in performance. Even the 205kw European
560SEs maxed out at 240km/h and took 7.2 seconds to reach
100km/h.
While my point is that the big-bore V8 was priced purely on the
basis of perceived prestige and was poor value for money, it is interesting to
pause to consider why the 300SE went so well and why the 560SE (and to a lesser
extent the 420SE and the 500SE) were so inefficient by comparison. The M103
(SOHC) and M104 (DOHC) sixes were the latest in a range of new engines that had
begun with the introduction of the M102 SOHC 2-litre four in the first 190E.
They were the future while the V-8s, which had first seen the light of day back
in 1972 in 150kw 3.5 litre guise, were the
past.
It’s no wonder Toyota and Nissan thought 1989 was a good to bring
out the Lexus and the Infiniti. The LS 400, the only Lexus likely to achieve
classic status in my opinion, stole a march on M-Bs long overdue W-140 S-class.
Toyota’s finest had a 32-valve quad cam 184 kw V8, 240km/h top speed, and most
importantly, the ability to cruise at 110km/h at 2000 revs. This latter quality
delivered highway fuel consumption of 9l/100km against the 560SE’s 11.1. The
first 30 miles per gallon V8 had
arrived!
While the styling, which combined elements of the Cressida and
the wide-body Camry that was still on the drawing board, was bland it was also
uncontroversial. Buyers, tired of waiting for more than a decade for M-B to come
up with something new, responded positively to the
newcomer.
Infiniti offered a similar mechanical package in its even more
blandly styled Q45, a luxury export to the US (so also a Lexus!), that could
have been mistaken for Ford America’s much cheaper Taurus of the same
year.
While the Q45 and the LS400 served as the point of the spear,
Nissan and Toyota had always planned to use the top end cars to upsell some
their lesser models to a new audience. Nissan borrowed the excellent 3-litre
123kw V6 we saw in the first Australian Maxima for the Infiniti M30 coupe and
cabriolet. The same engine also saw service in the Nissan Leopard which was not
sold here.
Toyota was even more blatant. In addition to selling the LS400 in
its own market (where anti-Toyota snobbery wasn’t a factor) as the Toyota
Celsior, it also promoted the car Australia knew as the Camry V6 to Lexus
Status. Like the ES 300 that followed the LS400 to Australia, the ES 250 was a
better dressed version of its more prosaic sibling with frameless windows and
snazzy trim. Under the bonnet not even a mechanic would be able to tell them
apart.
This is not to say either the ES250 or the ES300 were bad things;
quite the reverse. In terms of sophistication, performance and driveability the
first Camry V6 was right up there with some high priced front wheel drive
product out of France and Germany. That 2.5 litre quad cam 24 valve V6 was
producing 118kw at a time when Holden was proud of 125kw out of 3.8 litre V6 and
140kw out of a 5 litre V8. The Camry V6 was good for 210km/h and went from
0-100km/h in 9 seconds. This is roughly the same as the Mercedes 300SE we were
discussing earlier.
The point to which I have discursively been wending my way for
some time now is that the 1980s had seen a revolution in Japanese manufacturing
and design. Both were world class but, unfortunately, many elements of the
market had failed to pick up on this. How else can you explain M-Bs arrogance in
sticking with the same design for its ultimate sedan for almost 12 years. The
updates were relatively minor and, by the time it went out of production, the
W126 was well and truly yesterday’s hero with dated V8s, appalling fuel
consumption and few if any of the little flourishes that punters were now
looking for.
An Australian businessmen who changed his car every 40,000km
during the 1980s may well have ended up owning six W126s back to back. Is it
little wonder that when the Japanese offered fresher and more efficient
alternatives so many people jumped on the bandwagon?
The lacklustre performance of the Australian car manufacturing
industry in the 1980s, with its failure to embrace new technology capable of
lifting performance, fuel efficiency and reliability, largely blinds us to what a revolutionary time this decade was. When the first 380SE was built it was a revelation. By the time the last 420SE came down the line at Stuttgart it was a glorious and beautiful anachronism in much the same way the XJ6 had become a decade before.
Japan had been able to creep ahead by dint of its long standing
history of blending European technology with Americana styling. I recently
encountered what I consider to be the finest product of this tradition on the
forecourt of a service station in Canberra. It was a 1989 Toyota Crown V8, a
vehicle I consider much more desirable than the blandly inoffensive LS 400.
As the picture on this page indicates, this is a car that could
only have come from Japan. This, to my mind, says it is a more honest representation of the Japanese industry than the toned down prestige models designed for western consumers. The fact the Crown is now almost entirely produced for Japanese domestic consumption bears this out.
So how does the late 1980s Crown V8 stack up against the Lexus?
Quite well in fact. It is smaller, lighter (but solider) and definitely more of
a statement on the road. Wheras the Lexus relied on unitary construction the
Crown was still wedded to a rock-solid box frame chassis. It is 486cm long,
174.5cm wide and, in the hardtop form pictured here, 141cm high.
The LS400, by way of comparison, is 499.5cm long, 182cm wide and 141cm
high.
Fitted with the 140kw DOHC inline six we saw in the last Cressida, the Crown could muscle along quite nicely despite weighing 1620kw in hardtop form. Top speed is rated at 210km with fuel consumption on the highway of about 10l/100km.
The independent suspension was quite sophisticated, apparently borrowing heavily from the Mercedes play book. It utilised semi-trailing arms and air suspension.
While I don’t have the performance figures on the V8 model of the
1989 Crown I believe they would be similar to the LS 400. Both cars shared the
same drivetrain; the 184kw 3969cm V8 married to a four speed automatic with a
3.615 final drive ratio (significantly higher than the 4 final drive ratio used
on the Crown 6). Given the LS400 weighed 1720kg the Crown should, if anything, be
slightly more spritely. That would give it a top speed of 240km/h and a sub-8
second 0-100km/h time. It is unlikely the Crown, which is set more for
cushion-like comfort than handling response at speed, would keep up with its
evil clone on a twisty road however. The big Cs are a popular taxi and executive
transport choice in their home country and the ability to soak up the occasional
Tokyo pothole is rated more highly than the ability to lay down a hot lap at Le
Mans.
The Crown I saw at Gungahlin reawakened long dormant memories of
the string of Cressidas I owned in the late 1990s. They were all great cars;
true `lounge rooms on wheels’ and rarely missed a beat even though they were
usually 10 or 15 years old when I bought
them. It also made me revisit ancient memories of a Prince Gloria 6 I owned in the late 1970s, a wonderful car but one that even then was impossible to obtain the parts to keep on the road.
While it is unlikely I will be swapping either of my Mercedes (a 1974 280E
and a 1995 320SE) for a Crown any time soon, I am glad there are people out there
who appreciate this model enough to import one from Japan and make the effort to
keep it on the road and in near new condition.
Long before the Lexus and the Infiniti ever came along to challenge decades of German and British complacency, cars like the Skyline, the Corona Mk11, the Crown and 240C, 260C and 280C showed that Japan could build cars of quality that had an east meets west appeal that was theirs and theirs alone.