What Makes People Buy That Car?

Marketing Trends in the Auto Industry, a Photo Essay

William Sundwick

They were called “horseless carriages” for a reason. The earliest automobiles had open bodies fashioned from wood, sometimes with a folding top, like popular carriage designs of the time.

Soon, however, there emerged more luxurious closed bodies, often only the passenger cabin, with the driver still exposed to the elements. But these “cabs” were generally considered to occupy only the top end of the market, or livery vehicles.

The Model T Ford then created a “mass market” for automobiles in the United States. But roughly by the end of the First World War, closed bodies became more commonplace – even for the Model T. Ford had competitors by this time, many makes were marketed to less than upper-class buyers. And, as the maturing auto industry moved through the 1920s, there seemed to be a stock selection of body styles. There were coupes (with or without jump seats in the rear), sedans (two or four doors, but with full back seat), town cars and limousines for the chauffeur-driven elite (passenger

compartments separated from driver by full glass partition), and roadsters (no back seat, except possible “rumble seat”) or phaetons for the “open air” crowd (old style “touring” bodies with four doors and spacious rear seat).

These different body types appealed to folks now driving longer distances, often between cities. Both comfort and reliability became the most common marketing pitches for all auto-makers. In the U.S., General Motors, Chrysler Corporation, Nash, Hudson,

Studebaker and Packard all laid claim to significant portions of the market in the ‘20s and ‘30s. (Ford, the originator of the market, was overtaken in market share by both GM and Chrysler by the time World War II began).

Closed bodies (coupes and sedans) dominated the market from the onset of the Great Depression in 1930. Comfort and quiet, along with new features like radios, heaters, and window cranks made the passenger cabin a much more parlor-like experience, even in the popular-price segment where Chevrolet and Plymouth became the new market leaders.

Styling of auto bodies underwent some drastic changes in the 1930s. It was not just the enclosed quiet of the cabin that characterized cars of that decade, but major marketing initiatives around

“streamlining” and appearance of speed (if not reality) pitched by all manufacturers as a desirable look of the future. As always, the future was more appealing to younger buyers. And, younger buyers were coming in greater numbers as we approached entry into World War II. The most extreme futuristic streamlining, like Chrysler’s “Airflow” design of 1934, seemed avant-garde by the standards of the time.

Through the decade, running boards gradually disappeared from all cars, pontoon fenders with fared-in headlights became the norm, smooth curves replaced boxy shapes in all body styles. Horsepower ratings also began to be advertised during the 1930s and became a major marketing strategy after the war.

Tasteful, curvy streamlining and pontoon fenders began to fade post-war, as a brash new generation of designers took over in Detroit. GM’s Harley Earl (the dean of that earlier generation of stylists) retired, and people like

Raymond Loewy (Studebaker fame) took his place.

While a spacious, comfortable cabins continued to be important to the post-war auto buyer, new demands from the growing popularity of family vacations by car took on more importance. Trunks had to accommodate ever more luggage – not to mention golf clubs! This, in turn, caused another aesthetic shift in the appearance of auto bodies. Long hoods (to accommodate powerful V8 engines) were supplemented by long trunks. Cars got very large. The cabin area, now diminished as a percentage of the overall length, was made to seem bigger by much more glass. Wrap-around windshields and rear windows. The literal disappearance of side window frames (when

lowered) made the “hardtop” body style (two or four door) the most popular configuration in the ‘50s and ‘60s.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, there was a reaction to the apparent excess of the huge cars, powerful engines, and lots of chrome. Beginning even before the war, a niche market for imported small cars (usually from Britain, like Austin, Morris, MG) started to develop, especially in coastal cities. By the early ‘50s, this market had grown enough that many British automakers were equipping their export

vehicles with left-hand drive, aimed specifically at the U.S. and Canadian markets.

While the price of gasoline was never a constraint in the U.S., as it was for the native designers in Europe (not to mention their narrower urban streetscapes), the general cultural reaction against bigness and flashiness grew to such an extent that Detroit had to respond. But, since product development cycles in the auto industry are attenuated over several years, the new Detroit “compacts” didn’t arrive until 1960. By that time, Volkswagen Beetles had become a common sight in most of America. Rambler led the way somewhat earlier and could show a growing market share in the mid-to-late ‘50s as proof.

Keeping up with changing tastes of a young, more suburban, market in the fifties and sixties led to some important trends. Two body types that grew into an impressive social mainstay were convertibles and station wagons. Both body styles imbued a certain social status to their owners – convertibles implied youth, daring,

and enough affluence to have one car (of two) dedicated more to fun than practicality. Wagons frequently had three rows of seating,
for growing numbers of kids, not necessarily your own, but the neighbors’! For a while, it was thought that kids enjoyed facing the rear window in that third-row seat, although some safety concerns were later raised about that configuration. Even without the third row, wagons were great cargo carriers -- virtual car-truck hybrids! They were great for suburban shopping and family vacations, able to accommodate long things, like surfboards or plywood paneling for the basement.

Automobile marketing became more mysterious, at least in the eyes of this observer, in the 1970s.  Convertibles began to disappear – supposedly killed off by the insurance industry. And, while big cars with big engines continued to dominate Detroit, small imports retained a large following. What is strange, both for the domestic bodies and imported offerings, is the popularity of two-door models. For some reason, and I’ve been unable to find a psychological study explaining it, two-door bodies

across all segments of the market, outsold four-door bodies. Why? What possible advantage would buyers of that era see in having only two doors? Ingress and egress to the rear seat was harder. But even large cars with much rear seat leg and hip room, seemed to have popular two-door variants. Many of the two-door cars had tiny rear quarter windows, giving rear seat passengers privacy, perhaps, but decreasing visibility for driver. It seemed a perverse design trend, and it continued into the 1980s.

The coming of the BMW (and others, both foreign and domestic) four-door sport sedans in the ‘90s effectively killed that mystery market for two-door cars. There was no longer any connection

between “sportiness” and having only two doors.

Of course, throughout the history of the automobile, there have been many smaller niche markets: electric cars in the teens, sports cars from the 1920s on, drag racing wannabes in the muscle car era of the ‘60s and early ‘70s, and early 4x4s (Jeeps and pickups). Trucks moved from a rural niche market for private transportation into the mainstream with the coming of the smaller Japanese pickups in the 1980s.


The original Jeep was the first SUV. But Toyota, Nissan, then GM, Ford, and Chrysler all discovered

these truck-based wagons. The Chevy Suburban had been around since before the war but was relegated to one of those niche markets until suddenly, in the mid-70s, competition blossomed. Jeep Cherokees, Chevy Blazers, Ford Broncos, Toyota 4-Runners and Nissan Pathfinders all roared into the 1980s as the new best sellers.

 They were, indeed, trucks. They were all built on a pickup frame, with a body (two-door at first, later expanded to four doors) that
included a bouncy, but roomy, rear seat.

As trucks developed their own market segment, complete with luxo-cruisers, monster off-road vehicles, and compacts for urban living, it occurred to the intrepid auto designers that a true car-truck hybrid might fuse the enthusiasm of the SUV buyer with the family buyer who had previously settled for a matronly minivan. The “crossover” was thus born.

2018 Buick Enclave

2018 Honda CR-V

Crossovers emerged in a variety of form factors, from large three-row quasi-minivans (Buick Enclave, Toyota Highlander, Honda Pilot), to compact two-row versions (Toyota RAV-4, Honda CR-V, Subaru Forester), to sub-compact little cars (Fiat 500X, Honda HR-V, Ford EcoSport). Compact crossovers are now the hottest selling market segment of all, with larger and smaller versions close
behind.

2019 Ford EcoSport

It seems that a combination of a “high ride” (you look down on traffic) and the practicality of a large open cargo area (accommodates bulky items) are the main selling points. The main distinction between a crossover and an SUV is that the crossover always has a unitized body-frame, like other car bodies, but unlike the separate platform frame of truck-based SUVs. Hence, the ride is more car-like.

This is where we have come after more than 100 years of automotive market segmentation and design whims. Practicality combined with comfort and freedom have always ruled the marketplace. Of course, my unsupported impressions are subject to dispute. I’ve always been partial to the Harley Earl period at General Motors, myself!

Exploring the Sundwick Automotive Photo Library: Part III – Imports in the Heart of the Auto Industry, Detroit-Flint, 1953-63

William Sundwick

Beginning in the 1950s, before Detroit discovered “compacts,” there were dealer franchises in the heart of the auto industry, from Detroit to Flint, that sought to fill a growing demand for small, economical cars. They sold various low-priced models from Great Britain, France, Germany, Italy, Sweden, and even Czechoslovakia. In the 1940s there had been attempts by U.S. automakers to market smaller cars, but the only successful model was the Rambler from American Motors, first introduced in 1950 (still Nash at that time).

There, in the “belly of the beast,” a rebellious sense captured some local consumers who were skeptical of the long-term viability of their communities’ dependence on the dominant American auto manufacturers. In Flint, it was GM. These consumers were non-conformists. Yes, they wanted sensible, economical transportation, but they also just wanted to be different from their neighbors!

In my family, the first to express his non-conformity this way was my Uncle Carl. He taught music in the Detroit public schools, and was the conductor of a large high school orchestra. One of my earliest “car memories” was of his peculiar little Renault 4 CV, which he owned about the time we moved north from Dearborn to Flint. The 4 CV was well-known in France at the time, but I certainly had never seen one here, in eastern Michigan.

Its engineering was based on the rear-engine platform which was becoming popular in Europe for many small cars. But, unlike the VW beetle, it used a tiny (550 cc, or “4 CheVaux” by French measures) cast iron in-line four – not the horizontally opposed aluminum engine used in VWs and Porsches. And, also unlike VW, it had four doors! My uncle’s 4 CV was black, but when I studied in France during my junior year abroad in 1967-68, I discovered they were made in other colors, too. 

After moving to Flint, I discovered that, even in that smaller city –in effect, a General Motors “company town” – there were a few people that owned low-priced imported cars. I saw Austins and Morrises,  and those popular-priced sports cars: MG and Triumph. Austin-Healeys had a bit more muscle, didn’t see too many in Flint. Nobody would spend the money for a Jaguar XK-120.  

Imported did seem to mean English in those days – perhaps due to the regional influence of the Detroit BMC (British Motor Corporation) franchise, Falvey Motors.

When the Renault Dauphine replaced the 4 CV in the late ‘50s, they became popular as well (there was even a Renault dealer on the outskirts of Flint).

Volkswagen was in the mix, but hardly dominant among the various European choices.

In my Flint neighborhood, soon after moving there, I discovered an insurance salesman on the next street who drove a beautiful Jaguar Mk. VII sedan (selling for $5-6K, even in the fifties), and a strange family of central European origin who bought a Czech Skoda! (Where? I don’t know … were they Communists? Don’t know that, either).

Then, another uncle in Detroit (Uncle Bob) was bitten by the import fever. He was an independent CPA, apparently feeling no allegiance in his vehicle choice to Detroit automakers (well, he did have a second car, a Ford Country Squire, as I remember) … first he 

bought a spiffy Triumph TR-3 roadster, then a tiny Fiat 600, later a

 

slightly larger Fiat 1100 wagon. He also passed along the old issues of his Road & Track subscription to me, after he finished them.

One thing that sets these 1950s imports apart from the Japanese invasion of later decades is that they were not demonstrably higher quality than contemporary American cars. In fact, buyers were generally willing to settle for lower quality as a fair trade-off for their considerably lower retail price. Most were notoriously unreliable – and, parts may have been costlier than those from domestic manufacturers. 

Here is where Rambler excelled, after establishing itself nationwide in the mid-fifties. It had comparable reliability to other American makes, yet still offered that appealing smaller size and greater fuel economy, for a price slightly lower than market leading Chevrolets, Fords, and Plymouths. In the aggregate, Rambler and these imports motivated new “compact” designs from Detroit’s Big Three by 1960 (Chevrolet Corvair, Ford Falcon, and Plymouth Valiant).

General Motors, prior to the introduction of the Corvair, had tested the waters domestically by selling German Opels through Buick dealers across the U.S. Ford had been trying to do this with English Fords, selectively in certain markets (including Detroit) throughout the fifties. 

Chrysler briefly partnered with Rootes Group in Britain (Hillman, Sunbeam) and Simca in France, but somewhat later, and with little impact where I lived.

By the early sixties, the British imports (except for those great popular sports cars) and smaller Germans (save VW) were fading

from the scene, until something revolutionary entered the American market in the early sixties, again putting Britain briefly in the center of attention. This was the original BMC Mini, designed by Alec Issigonis, and first reaching our shores in 1962.

Renault and Fiat kept a following through the sixties, but Borgward, Goliath, DKW, and that weird Czech import, Skoda, all disappeared. Swedish Saabs and Volvos made their first big U.S. push in the late ‘50s, too. And, Alfa Romeo competed directly with the Brits -- giving their signature low-priced sports car platform an Italian accent (low-priced compared to Jags, Porsches, or Mercedes SLs, at least).

As the sixties wore on, interest in most of the European brands continued to decline, with Volkswagen and sports cars the exceptions. The Japanese, first arriving on the West Coast only in the late ’50s (Datsun and Toyota), and East Coast in the mid-60s, would remake the landscape for the domestic auto industry in the following decades. Detroit ultimately would become a shadow of its former self.