Why expensive cars are so... expensive

As a car enthusiast, I’m often called upon by others to explain just why it is that new cars cost so much. People want to know why a new, middle-of-the-road sedan such as a Toyota Corolla costs R175 000 for the cheapest model in the range.


They want to know why the 30-year old design of the recently deceased Citi-Golf resulted in the sportier models costing over R100 000. More commonly, people want to know why on earth luxury German cars are so far out of reach because of their excessive prices.

I’ll be the first to admit that often, I am stumped as to how to justify the cost of these four-wheeled wonders that we simply can’t do without. Many are ridiculously overpriced.

And then this past weekend, it all made sense. Well, some of it.

I had the fantastic opportunity to drive a virtually brand new BMW 335i Coupe Steptronic. It is one of my personal dream machines and a vehicle defined by orgasmic numbers: 3-litre engine, twin turbo chargers, 0-100km/h in about 5,5 seconds and, as of December 2009… a R617 700 price tag.

335i is more than just a pretty face

Over R600 000 for what many will describe simply as a “fast, nice” car. Yet what so many people without a penchant for motoring often overlook is the substance in the detail.
True motoring aficionados (and admittedly those with a healthy balance in their bank account), see so much more in their prized possessions than a chunk of metal bolted onto four wheels.

It’s the same as an artist that only buys their materials from the most exclusive stationery store and not the CNA at KC, even though that painting of the sea through a quaint kitchen’s window will probably end up looking pretty much the same.
Or, by the same token, it’s the reason that an IT guru spends hundreds of rands more on a wireless mouse with an ergonomically designed shape with grippy supports for your hands when it essentially does the same job as an R80 version that you can grab at Clicks.

So with that in mind, allow me to try and justify the price tag of a luxury sports car like the 335i.

Its engine is a masterpiece, being incredibly potent, aurally pleasing when pressing on, whisper-quiet when cruising, and with not a hint of lag when accelerating. The small turbo charger operates at low engine speeds and the larger one takes over at higher speeds – an exceptional technological rarity in engine design.

Unbeknown to many, award-winning engines like these aren’t conceptualised, designed and produced overnight; the best materials are used and the most incredibly adept engineers spend hours, days, weeks and more perfecting its every detail. To put into production an engine of this complexity requires far greater resources, skill and time than an engine in Corollas, Corsas, Golfs and even some cheaper BMWs and Mercs.

To the chassis we go, then. The suspension is supple when you’re in a relaxed mood but sporty when you aren’t. Turning the wheel is effortless and the sharp responses of the car make it feel like a much smaller machine. A Tazz feels way more cumbersome and is just over half the weight of this BMW.

Inside the car, I’m going to ignore the very long list of ultra-modern features fitted to it and focus on the basics.
Unlike “normal” cars, the 335i doesn’t rattle or squeak at all (and it will likely continue to not rattle or squeak for many more years to come).
Nothing in the interior that shouldn’t move, moves. All the plastics have a classy and cushioned feel without the cheap, shiny, hard textures of lesser vehicles.

When you go over bumps, you don’t feel it reverberating through the steering wheel.

The sound of the indicator clicking can be heard, but it’s distant and somehow just not as annoying as in your car. The roof-mounted grab handles float back into position after use whereas the same items in your car snap back into position with a hard, loud bang.

Shifting into drive, you don’t feel the car physically changing gear. Only the illuminated electronic display tells you what the transmission is doing.

I could go on and on. All the things I’ve just mentioned are tiny when taken in isolation and will be mostly unnoticed by the average passenger. Together, however, they allow for an extremely comfortable machine designed to make your journey a most pleasurable one; a representation of precision engineering at its best. And notably, it isn’t a remotely cheap undertaking to produce a car as refined as the 335i.

I emerged from the car feeling like I could spend days exploring its every astonishing detail.

On a more sane level, a Toyota Auris is more expensive than a Toyota Yaris for a reason other than it being larger. The Auris is quieter, smoother, and more attention has been given to it to make it feel like the more costly car that it is.
In every price range across all manufacturers, these subtle yet significant differences can be seen and help account for the sharp rise in price as you go further up the scale.

Yes, I can hear many of you shouting in fury about all this refinement mumbo jumbo and the “experience” that a car provides; it is essentially about getting from A to B and in that regard, the atrocious new Chinese cars do the same job as the BMW for a lot less cash.
And it’s also true that many of the people driving around in flashy cars like the 335i bought it for a reason that’s not nearly as tangible as those that I’ve mentioned. They have no clue what has gone into producing their pride and joy.

What absolutely can’t be denied, however, is that the few fortunate individuals able to afford these dream machines are paying a hell of a lot of money for a hell of a lot of the best that man can offer them in the shape of a car.

Seems like a fair trade to me.

eCCCentric C3

Many of us know of the Citroёn C3. A trendy, clever and comfy “boutique” hatch sold in the lively supermini segment of the market.
What many are largely unaware of is the closely-related Citroёn C3 Pluriel. About as common as Paris Hilton winning an Oscar, this exceptionally unique vehicle was launched on the South African market back in 2004.
I can’t recall ever spotting one of them on the road, though, and it’s not difficult to figure out why.

The C3 Pluriel (good gracious, even the name is ridiculous) was conceptualised and designed as a single vehicle to cater for a mind-boggling array of needs.
So, provided you misplaced your mind and good sense of judgement and purchased a Pluriel, you could theoretically configure your new pride and “toy” as a hatchback, pillarless coupe, cabriolet or even a good old fashioned bakkie / pick-up.

The brutally burning question is why you’d want to do all this. The answer is simply that you would not.

To be fair, Citroёn has always been about forward-thinking and the showcasing of design trends which rival manufacturers would only pick up on years later. Think Citroёn DS or the legendary 2CV to get an idea of what I’m getting at.
The C3 Pluriel, however, is complete and utter overkill.


The intricate roof structure consists primarily of two, 1,85m, 12kg arches. They are as easy to remove as a loose-fitting jacket, but not remotely near as easy to store.
Let’s get real. You’re looking fabulous cruising along the Camps Bay beachfront and decide to go topless – with your Pluriel, that is…

What on earth are you then expected to do with 24kg and almost 4 metres of the stuff?
You could of course leave them at home and take comfort in the fact that should you get caught
in an unexpected thunderstorm, Citroёn has thoughtfully equipped the Pluriel with mildly
water-repellent seat fabric. Just be sure not to rub your skin over the coarse material too
enthusiastically.

My advice is simple. Don’t buy a Citroёn C3 Pluriel.

The Mini Clubman, Ford Ka, Citroёn’s very own C4 and plenty of other oddballs out there represent far more practical ways to stand out in a crowd.

Tricky Trends

In the great world of cars, trends good and bad are followed relentlessly. Manufacturers get so caught up in “the moment” of what’s perceived as trendsetting that they often design features or sometimes entire cars that actually go against the very essence of what their brand stands for.

Somehow, the Toyota Yaris doesn’t come standard with an air conditioner or alloy wheels and yet it is fitted with an extravagant centrally mounted digital (on the hatchback, analogue on the sedan) instrument display. The Renault Scenic is another example of this instrument display.
Do these manufacturers not know that if something is not directly in your line of view, your significantly inferior peripheral vision takes over? Hardly conducive towards safe family motoring, something both Renault and Toyota strive to provide.

Then we have the first generation Polo Classic (at least, the first generation launched in South Africa).
While it was seriously unpretty / boring and therefore couldn’t have had ambitions of setting any trend, it nevertheless was fitted with a design feature that (and I stand to be corrected here) I had never before seen on a car and which spread rapidly to other vehicles – namely, a single rear reverse light.
There can be no logical explanation for this besides cost-cutting. What it does is to provide the rear of your car with an unbalanced appearance and permanently make it appear as though one reverse light is broken. It is also less safe – if anything happens to be obscuring the side of the vehicle without that reverse light, those viewing it from behind won’t always know it’s moving backwards.
Seems a petty concern, but it’s simply unnecessary.

It is my next “trend” that really gets me hot under the collar (and depending on which car I happen to drive, her too!).
Apparently, modern vehicles have become so impeccably well engineered that some of them no longer require the once obligatory temperature gauge. All that is now needed is a single and often miniscule red lamp in the instrument panel that illuminates once your engine is probably on the verge of exploding while you’re traversing De Waal Drive at 20km/h on a Friday afternoon.
The very point of a gauge is to be able to constantly be aware of how warm the engine is. This way, you’ll be alerted instantly when it starts to heat up and long before steam starts spewing from underneath the bonnet of your Chevrolet Spark (which, you guessed it, is one of the offenders).
As advanced as they have become, modern vehicles’ engines still run on petrol, they still rely upon a cooling system and they can still overheat.

Car names are another moot point. It seems as though designing a car from scratch takes so much effort that there is insufficient brainpower left for the team to think up a reasonable model name.
Volkswagen has loads of fun revising its dated CitiGolf every 5 days or so, complete with new individual designations for each model in the line-up that range from an eerie canine to a synonym for doggedness; I doubt anyone will feel very good telling their mother-in-law that they drive a Citi Wolf or a TenaCiti. A sharply raised eyebrow is sure to follow.
Manufacturers of 4X4s are perhaps even worse. They can’t resist the tendency to drown their gas-guzzling beasts in an hilarious assortment of masculine words like Defender, Discovery, Commander or Outback. Or, if you often indulge in the odd trip around your backyard, you could get yourself a VW Touran Track and Field. Not many could have predicted that cars would one day be named according to the surface they’re adept at driving on.
Let’s all hold thumbs for a BMW X5 Road and Driveway.

But perhaps more bizarre than all of these is a car that tries extremely hard to be trendy when it is actually quite terrible.
The range-topping Tata Indigo GLX comes standard with awful interior plastics, a breathless engine, refinement notable only by its absence and… a dual rear DVD entertainment system. Hell, they’ve even thrown in leather upholstery. Whether it’s real leather or not is highly
debatable.


Tata Indigo

What it all boils down to is that far too often, being perceived as cool, funky or trendy takes preference over reliability, practicality and good old common sense.
Then again, who would say no to the ridiculously overindulgent fingerprint recognition system on the Audi A8 that adjusts seats and the like to your preferences at the touch of a little electronic pad…? Not me.