Car design versus product design

Alongside anyone with a whiff of automotive fandom, I eagerly awaited the arrival of the ‘Apple’ Ferrari. Not just to pass judgement on how it looked, but to see how a couple of product designers reputed to be the best on the globe could show car designers how it should be done.

I won’t pass judgement on this particular car; there’s already droves of public opinion on the internet, and it’s certainly ignited some impassioned conversation. What I find so intriguing is how non-car designers approach the challenge, and why throughout history it’s never been as groundbreaking as promised.

In 1936 Charles-Édouard Jeanneret, better known as the French architecture giant Le Corbusier, proposed the Voiture Minimum. He’d always longed to design a car and created a space efficient small car that looked like it had been made using an architect’s drafting tools – geometric arches, straight lines, and flat panels. Despite being innovative in terms of aerodynamics and packaging, the design looked somewhat toy-like and progressed no further.

The 1933 Dymaxion car, by another renowned architect Buckminster Fuller, was a spectacular device. Construction owed a lot to aircraft principles and materials, and the 11-seater claimed exceptional fuel efficiency and top speed due to its pioneering aerodynamics. Its layout, however, attempted to defy physics. A three-wheeler with the single rear wheel doing the steering, and a rear-mounted V8 channeled to the front axle made for hazardous stability. The first prototype suffered a fatal crash at the entrance to Chicago’s world fair.

Many of Italy’s most famous car designers were also trained architects, so it’s no surprise there are a few examples of discipline crossover.

Carlo Mollino’s elegant Nardi-Giannini 750 Bisiluro (‘twin torpedo’) was a twin-pontooned design connected with an inverted wing. Its revolutionary aerodynamics resulted in a very competitive car at the 1955 Le Mans which might have done well had it not been jettisoned off the road, caught in the vortex from a passing Jaguar D-Type.

Less successful was Mario Bellini Architects Kar-A-Sutra which it appears was designed solely to be parked up and lounged about in.

Although Zaha Hadid has inarguably designed some of the world’s most beautiful buildings, her Z-car proposal, both three- and four-wheel versions, failed to capture the imagination.

As a discipline, product design sits very close to car design, particularly for interiors, so it’s understandable that a product designer will offer a fresh perspective to an industry that is seen by some to be stuck in a very narrow cul-de-sac.

Early in his career as the global Design Director of Ford, J Mays had some ambitious plans for the Blue Oval. He commissioned product designer Marc Newson to design a futuristic vision for Ford after seeing Newson’s Lockheed lounge chair in a Madonna video. The same Marc who has also put his hand to the new Ferrari Luce – alongside his old mate, Jony Ive.

The Ford 021C, named after its orange Pantone exterior colour, was built in the Ford-owned Ghia studio in Turin, completed in 1999. It originally received a somewhat harsh reception, being seen as naive and cartoon-like, however it has aged well and although a bit too boxy and symmetrical, several of its features have stood the test of time. The clean, uninterrupted surfaces are fresh and modern, and the colour and materials alongside some of the interior detailing are still intriguing.

James Dyson, one of this country’s most well-known product designers, couldn’t resist the temptation to design and actually manufacture a car at the peak of his visibility. He brought together a team of well-respected car engineers but went out of his way not to hire any car designers, presumably to ensure none could corrupt his vision.

Dyson employed 400 people working in a dedicated facility and sunk £500 million into the project. His vision was for a large electric seven-seat SUV with a six-figure price tag.

The car itself, other than its 24in wheels, was somewhat anonymous looking and featured a very simple, spacious cabin that prioritised seat comfort. As a design in itself it didn’t set the world alight, and I imagine it would have struggled to justify its pricing. The car was scrapped for being commercially unviable.

So why is it so difficult for architects or product designers to design cars? First of all, designing cars is hard.

Cars are perhaps the most complex consumer products there are, a maze of both mechanical and electrical components integrated and packaged in the tightest possible spaces. Cars are also subject to the most draconian legislation governing safety and energy usage. They’re expected to work over all surfaces at any temperature, endure huge abuse with next to no maintenance. These days they’re also expected to drive themselves.

All car companies have an army of engineers to scale this mountain of complexity, of course, but the best car designers have to deeply understand the consequences of any decisions they make, and how that integrates into this web of complexity.

A car is also a collection of separately designed products built together to harmonise into a seamless whole. Or at least that’s the idea. Every component requires the same fastidious attention to ensure it’s perfectly designed, be it a headlight, steering wheel or switch. But what really differentiates a car designer is the sense of emotion that goes into a car.

Jaguar’s founder, Sir William Lyons, is quoted as saying: ‘The car is the closest thing we will create to something that is alive.’

Proportion, sculpture, and tension are the language and disciplines we use. And how they work together can never be underestimated.

Cars are unique amongst most products in that they move and have character; they behave differently to one another and all tell a different story. That shape you see drifting down your local high street has had every surface and detail pored over obsessively until it’s as close to perfect as its designers can make it, the creation of lines and form owing more to art and sculpture than maths. And how that car is made unique often involves respecting and evolving a legacy, moving forward enough without rejecting where you came from.

Not all car designers are petrolheads, but they know about movement, stance, and above all, how to create emotion. Product designers, in comparison, are rational, realistic, and responsible. They value precision, simplicity and seriousness.

So, returning to my school talk: if you’re a student, which one are you? And who do you want to design your car?