on 2040-cars

Auto blog

The story of the 2014 Chevrolet SS: "Luxury, power, refinement, handling"

Not including the women and men who built it, the 2014 Chevrolet SS has only been seen in person by a piddling number of people - fewer humans than would fill the gymnasium at a high school volleyball game. Not including the men and women who built it, no one has driven it. Even so, it is already saddled with two controversies: the way it looks and the way it shifts.
First to that shifting. Did we love the last Americanized Holden, the awesomely sportsome Pontiac G8 GXP, and its six-speed manual? Of course. Do we wish the SS came with a six-speed manual? Of course. But we'd like a toboggan to come with a manual transmission. We'd put a manual transmission on a weasel if we could because we're just wired that way; if it moves, it should come with a stick and a clutch. Or at least the option.
Let's climb down off the ledge, though. We haven't driven the SS and we have no idea how good (or not) the automatic is. And the Hobson's Choice in transmissions when it comes to sport sedans like the BMW M5, Mercedes-Benz E63 AMG and Jaguar XFR-S and, oh yeah, cars-that-really-should-have-manuals like the Audi R8 and Nissan GT-R and Porsche 918 and every single Lamborghini and Ferrari, for instance, hasn't stopped us from enjoying what is clearly the gruesome, dual-clutched demise of Western automotive civilization. Because in spite of our ululations at the dying of the six-speed light, we understand.

GM’s move to Woodward is the right one — for the company and for Detroit

Back in 2018, Chevy invited me to attend the Detroit Auto Show on the company dime to get an early preview of the then-newly redesigned Silverado. The trip involved a stay at the Renaissance Center — just a quick People Mover ride from the show. IÂ’d been visiting Detroit in January for nearly a decade, and not once had I set foot inside General MotorsÂ’ glass-sided headquarters. I was intrigued, to say the least. Thinking back on my time in the buildings that GM will leave behind when it departs for the new Hudson's site on Woodward Avenue, two things struck me. For one, its hotel rooms are cold in January. Sure, itÂ’s glass towers designed in the 1960s and '70s; I calibrated my expectations accordingly. But when I could only barely see out of the place for all the ice forming on the inside of the glass, it drove home just how flawed this iconic structure is.  My second and more pertinent observation was that the RenCen doesnÂ’t really feel like itÂ’s in a city at all, much less one as populous as Detroit. The complex is effectively severed from its surroundings by swirling ribbons of both river and asphalt. To the west sits the Windsor tunnel entrance; to the east, parking lots for nearly as far as the eye can see. To its north is the massive Jefferson Avenue and to its south, the Detroit River. You get the sense that if Henry Ford II and his team of investors had gotten their way, the whole thing would have been built offshore with the swirling channel doubling as a moat. This isnÂ’t a building the draws the city in; itÂ’s one designed to keep it out. Frost on the inside of the RenCen hotel glass. Contrasted with the new Hudson's project GM intends to move into, a mixed-use anchor with residential, office, retail and entertainment offerings smack-dab in Detroit's most vibrant district, the RenCen is a symbol of an era when each office in DetroitÂ’s downtown was an island in a rising sea of dilapidation. Back then, those who fortified against the rapid erosion of DetroitÂ’s urban bedrock stood the best chance of surviving. This was the era that brought us ugly skyways and eventually the People Mover — anything to help suburban commuters keep their metaphorical feet dry. The RenCen offered — and still offers — virtually any necessity and plenty of nice-to-haves, all accessible without ever venturing outside, especially in the winter, but those enticements are geared to those who trek in from suburbia to toil in its hallways.

General Motors and EVs: No stranger to firsts, but where's the leadership?

2015 is already shaping up to be the year of "affordable, 200-mile EV" concepts. Nissan and Tesla have each been talking about them for some time, the latter promising to unveil its Model 3 at the North American International Auto Show in January before balking when the time came. Instead, Chevrolet beat them all by unveiling the Bolt concept at the same event, followed shortly thereafter with suggestions of a 2016 launch – potentially offering the first nationwide EV with anything close to that range. It was the ballsiest EV-related move General Motors has made in a quarter century. But will it remain so? Exactly 25 years before the Bolt rolled up onto the turntable, then-Chairman Roger Smith unveiled GM's last ground-up EV concept, the even-more-unfortunately-named Impact, at the Los Angeles Auto Show in January 1990. A few months later, he surprised most of his colleagues by announcing its intended production in honor of Earth Day. It was the first modern foray into electric vehicles for the US by any automaker, one that was rewarded by the State of California with what is now known as the Zero Emissions Vehicle mandate. The program not only forced other automakers into competing with Roger's pet project, but inspired all of them to fight it like small children against bedtime. Some years later, the drivers themselves weighed in, with a biting documentary about that obstinance and the leadership it cost both GM and the country. Within months, GM was first back into the fray of plug-in vehicles. Many criticized the company for starting with a PHEV rather than jump straight back into EVs. The choice wasn't totally out of the blue – even EV1 was meant to be followed by a PHEV. And especially on the heels of Who Killed the Electric Car?, some skittishness was understandable: even a successful EV would invite a "we told you so" public reaction, underscoring their mistake in ending the EV1 program. If a new EV didn't do well, they'd be convicted in the public eye as serial killers. All while seeking a federal bailout. For all the flak, the resulting Chevy Volt was and is a better car than GM has ever gotten credit for. But the company seemed to grow weary of having to overcome its varied past, and while the current owners remain happy, much of the stakeholder and community engagement that so effectively built early goodwill and sales growth faded not long after launch. Marketing has been spotty in both consistency and effectiveness.