(first posted 1/28/2013) The Chevrolet Vega’s genesis goes back to the fall of 1959, a point in time up to which the compact car market was primarily served by imports such as the Volkswagen Beetle and a few domestics, including the Studebaker Lark and Rambler American. The Big Three saw an opportunity and jumped into the market in 1960 with the Chevrolet Corvair, Ford Falcon and Plymouth Valiant, all of which saw some levels of success.
By the end of the decade, the Studebaker and Rambler marques were effectively gone from the US Market, and cars like the Chevrolet Nova, Ford Maverick and AMC Hornet, while deemed “compacts,” were really only small versions of traditional mid-size cars designed to seat six. Powertrains may have started with thrifty four and six-cylinder engines, but V8 engines were also on tap. These were certainly not the compacts of a decade previous, and it was becoming evident that there was a new opportunity in the true subcompact car space.
By the mid-1960s, both Chevrolet and Pontiac had small car concepts on the boards, but Ed Cole, then GM Executive Vice-President, had also started a small car development program using GM’s corporate engineering and design staff, which was presented for review by Chairman James Roche in 1967. As interest in moving forward with a sub-compact grew, Cole’s design was chosen over the Chevrolet and Pontiac Design Studio concepts, making the Vega the first car at General Motors to be a “corporate” car as opposed to a divisional one, a move which was not well received by the staff at Chevrolet Division.
Meanwhile, John DeLorean had been reassigned from head of Pontiac Division to the Chevrolet Division, which was behind schedule on the 1970 Camaro, Nova and Corvette, and was also bleeding from fallout over bad publicity on the Corvair. DeLorean played by his own rules, which rankled many at GM, but he was also an effective manager, and made dramatic improvements at Chevrolet in short order.
In the middle of all those challenges sat Vega. The car was already on the “prime path” to production, so other than making a few tweaks here and there, and implementing a rigorous quality inspection routine, DeLorean really couldn’t hope to do more—Vega would have to ship “as-is.”
A series of teaser ads led up to the launch of Vega in September, 1970, and initially, four variants of the H-body were available. While the Notchback sedan and Kammback wagons shared rooflines (and thus doors and other components), the more popular Hatchback had a lower roofline and shared a fold-down rear seat with the Kammback. The cars were identical from the cowl forward. The Panel Express model (CC here) was a bit of an odd duck—basically a stripper with only a driver’s seat and steel panels in place of the rear quarter lites, it was designed to be a light delivery truck, and if my memory is correct, was actually listed in Chevrolet’s literature as a truck, not a car. This variant represented about 2% of H-body production.
A GT version of Vega could be ordered, which brought a little more power (110hp vs. 90) through use of a two-barrel carburetor and slightly “warmer” cam grind, along with full instrumentation on the dash.
All Vegas were designed to be transported vertically on specially-designed rail cars which could hold 30 cars instead of the 18 a standard auto carrier held.
DeLorean and Chevrolet Division were still trying to make Vega into something worthy of all the hype, and in 1972 built a prototype with an aluminum-block V8, which ran sub-14 second quarter miles as tested by Hot Rod Magazine. It was not to be, however, repeating the rejection Chevrolet Divisions had experienced in 1968, which its own in-house engine design with an aluminum head (shown above in the XP-898 concept car which utilized many Vega components) was passed over for the cast iron head engine used in production.
In 1973, Vega was lengthened slightly by adding three inches between the front bumper and grill (with a steel filler panel to improve the aesthetics). 1973 would also bring the introduction of the Pontiac Astre to Canadian markets. Astre is French for “star,” a play on Vega’s name. Astre would be offered in the same configurations as Vega, only with the Kammback being called the Safari and an SJ trim level topping out the options list.
1974 and federal regulations brought a fairly substantial restyle to the growing H-body line due to the 5mph bumper mandate.
Astre’s taillights adopted the Firebird’s from that model year as well.
In February, 1974, calendar-challenged GM launched the Spirit of America special edition Vega, essentially a paint and decal package, presumably intended to capitalize on the upcoming American Bicentennial.
Around this time, GM was pressing ahead with plans for a rotary-engined Vega, but as more and more problems surfaced, including rising gasoline prices, it became obvious that the rotary was a dead end as an option in an economy sub-compact car.
1975 would bring some fun options to the H-body offerings, starting with the Pontiac Astre L’il Wide Track option, designed to spice up sales a bit.
Chevrolet, after missing its initial deadline, would also finally introduce the Cosworth Vega in 1975.
The Panel Express was dropped from the option list at the end of the 1975 model year, and the Monza was introduced alongside the Buick Skyhawk and Oldsmobile Starfire.
Things got really confusing with the Pontiacs, as you had the Astre in 1975, which was still based on the Vega design. 1976 brought the Sunbird, and either my search-fu is off, or it appears the initial Sunbirds were also Vega-derived.
To make things even more confusing, the Sunbird wagon continued to use the Vega Kammback design up through 1979.
1976 saw the cancellation of the Cosworth Vega, and the introduction of the limited-edition Nomad Wagon (note the restyled rear quarter window treatment).
Not wanting to miss out on the Broughamification of America™, the Vega Cabriolet Notchback was tarted up a bit to fit the bill.
Little changed in 1977 as the original H-body cars were phased out, the Monza and derivatives having taken the baton by this point. Remaining Vega components were used up by offering a Monza “S” version in 1980—it was essentially a stripped-down Vega with a restyled grill.
Monza was offered in several trim options for 1977, including the Mirage (shown) and Spyder (in either the Z01 Package, which had some hardware upgrades, or the Z02 Appearance Package). Base engines were still the Durabilt four, but an optional 145hp 305 c.i.d. V8 could also be ordered.
1979 brought a restyled grill to all Monza models except the 2+2, and was the final production year for the H-body, after a total of around four million vehicles produced for all makes, models and variants.
After a two-year hiatus, Chevrolet would introduce the successor to the H-body platform, the Chevrolet Cavalier and its four brand siblings. The J-body would be in production for over twenty years with well over 10 million units produced.
One could effectively come to the conclusion then, that the H-body experiment was GM’s “practice run” for the sub-compact car market. They truly did hit the mark in several areas (styling, handling, decent price and economy), but were hobbled by the end results of corporate politics and cost-cutting, which resulted in the Vega in particular receiving such a black eye that it never really recovered, despite having become a decent quality car by the end of its run. Monza and its siblings of course benefited from all that (and one can’t help but wonder if the name and styling change were intended as a move to slowly back away from Vega’s reputation).
The H-body platform turned out to be highly flexible, supporting a wide range of engines and stylistic variants, which were effective in keeping the sales numbers reasonably high, and for a decently-long production run as well.
GM, emboldened by its success with the H-body experiment, would press on with renewed energy, to the point where the J-body cars truly were “badge engineered” without regard to brand promise and expectations (Cimarron by Cadillac, I’m looking at you).
GM in the 1960s created some pretty wild and unique cars, and the brands still stood for something. The 1970s were the H-body decade, and it’s obvious to us now (hindsight being 20-20) that perhaps it was Ed Cole’s decision of 1968 to pursue a common-platform “corporate car” that indeed was the very moment that GM changed paths and truly started the decline that eventually killed the company.
I have owned 10 H-body cars 2 were new never had problems with them other than my new 72 GT. It has a piece of metal in the float bowl that would move around and block fuel flow. I do all my own repairs and found them very reliable and easy to fix. Still have this one in my garage and find it lots of fun.
My first car was a new 1979 Chevy Monza hatchback with the 3.2 V6. Had it about 9-10 years and put about 120,000 miles on it. Very good car. A few issues but for the most part, a reliable, fun car. Biggest complaint is that it was horrible in the snow to the point of being unsafe on slippery roads. Fast forward to 2009 and I bought another Monza hatchback…this one with a 305 V8. 10 years later, still have it and it runs great, though it is a weekend car and not a daily driver. My two 1979 Monzas were very good, surprisingly reliable cars. Maybe by 1979, they worked a lot of the bugs out.
No 2300cc ‘Vega’ motor anymore by ’79, major source of problems.
Had 6 H bodies, and never had a problem with any of them. I wish I could be around when these new “musclecars” look and perform when they’re 46 years old. Built out of cheap plastic and reynolds wrap bodies, and all aluminum, leaky ass blocks. You can have all the “700hp” Demon Hellcat, “Coyote” Mustangs you want, but if you can’t get it to the ground, it don’t mean squat. I’ve personally relished in watching many of them spinning out into curbs, trees, ending up in the woods trying to keep up with my, declared by most in this blog, POS ’75 Monza Towne Coupe. 450 hp 400 small block, with a built TH350, and an Eaton 2:93 posi is is enough to embarrass the inexperienced in front of their social media addicted girlfriends. 155 mph not to the floor. Gotta love a hand built death machine.
Always liked the silver with red inside Vega’s.
“Why the hell would anyone buy an Oldsmobile or Pontiac when they could get a nearly identical Chevy for much less?”
Same with Mercury, why bother after the Grand Marquis market faded away? While Dodge priced themselves as Plymouths and said “get a mid level brand for less”, pushing away lower brand. Chrysler and Buick still barely hanging on these days.
OTOH, GMC gets well off suburbanites who “refuse to be seen in a Chevy”, so the “Sloan Ladder” seems to still work for trucks.
It was all about money. GM created the Vega, because it wanted a profitable small car. It was cheaply made because it wanted a profitable car. It was shipped as a lemon, because GM wanted a profitable small car. GM lost scads of loyal owners, because they bought a Vega – which ended up not being such a profitable car.
The Vega was what happens when a oversized corporation filled with overpaid idiots, focus more on marketing and profits than on putting a decent car together.
I bet not a single moron got fired over the Vega debacle either.
Fired? More like promoted. As evidence, one need look no further than the 1979 X-body (Citation).
What’s stunning is that after foisting the one-two, Vega-Citation punch on the American car buying public, GM, somehow, managed to hang on for another three ‘decades’ before declaring bankruptcy. That is simply incredible.
Not sure how true the following is yet read the H-Body and T-Body reportedly shared the same origin by way of the 1964 General Motors XP-813 on the Cars: Design & Style
Facebook page.
If the above can indeed be verified, how much componentry did the Vega and Chevette share with each other? Would it be closer to the mark to say the Chevette was loosely to some degree a shortened Vega (or was the Vega with the exception of their engines basically an enlarged Chevette despite appearing first in 1970?), on the basis the 5-door Chevette in North America upon its introduction shared a similar enough wheelbase as the then discontinued Vega?
Not true. First off, these various XP designs were just that: concepts and clays. They never advanced to the pre-engineering phase. If certain stylistic cues were reused on later cars like the Vega or T-Car, that does not mean there was a direct lineage.
The Vega obviously came first, and is a 100% homegrown (US) design with front and rear suspensions that very closely resemble those used by larger Chevy cars (Camaro, Nova).
The T-Car was engineered at Opel, Its front and rear suspensions are quite different from the Vega. It was a smaller Euro-centric successor to the previous Kadett, from whom it borrowed its rear suspension design.
They are two very different cars.
Thanks for clearing up the matter.
Apart from a V6 Chevette test car did GM in North America look at emulating the overseas versions of the T-Car by fitting their Chevette with larger engines to create a “Halo” effect, since the online info appears to establish the Vega engine for all of its large displacement to negligible emissions strangled output (never mind the Cosworth Vega motor) was actually lighter than the 1.6 (Isuzu?) engine used in the Chevette?
In that respect a relatively big jump in displacement for the North American Chevette whether from 1.6 to 2.3-litres or 1.6 to 2-litres would not be unusual when looking at Vauxhall’s version with its 1.3 and 2.3 engines, while the 2-litre Cosworth Vega engine would be comparable with the Kadett C’s 1.9/2-litre models or the 2-litre Impulse/Piazza.
Probably not in any serious way, because the mission of the U.S.-spec T-body Chevette was to be cheap and to prop up Chevrolet CAFE numbers. Chevrolet’s idea of special halo version of the Chevette in this period was the ultra-cheapo Scooter, a stripped-down model designed for the lowest possible price. There was a “high-output” 49-state engine with a whopping 5 additional horsepower, because a Chevy wasn’t a Chevy if there wasn’t SOMETHING for the salesperson to talk punters into adding for just a few dollars more, but if someone wanted something a little sportier, a Chevrolet dealer would surely have steered them into an H-body Monza.
It wasn’t that there was any technical reason Chevrolet couldn’t have put a bigger engine in the Chevette, it was that there was no business reason. Scooter notwithstanding, if you look at the list prices of the Chevette and the list prices of the Monza, there was really not a lot of daylight between them. Each step up in size generally meant bigger per-unit profits, and so there was very little incentive to make the Chevette sportier or nicer if in the process it was just going to steal sales from the Monza, or the Nova, or the Malibu.
This is part of the reason why the U.S. Chevette has such a lackluster reputation in this country. Unlike, say, the Mk2 Ford Escort in the UK, there really weren’t any “cool” versions to elevate the reputation of the dour price-leader variants. It was a car Chevrolet felt they needed to have, but weren’t that interested in people actually wanting.
This was one of the really fundamental differences between smaller cars in the U.S. market and smaller cars elsewhere: It was almost always going to be more profitable to steer buyers into a bigger model than to sell them a fancier version of the small one.
With something like a Corolla in Japan or a RWD Escort in Europe, there were various reasons some buyers just weren’t going to go for a bigger car, which created an incentive for automakers to develop plusher and/or sportier versions of those smaller models. For instance, in Japan in the seventies, there were quite a few repeat Corolla buyers, and Toyota was keen to cater to those customers.
In the States, neither domestic automakers nor their dealers particularly wanted the buyers of the smaller, cheaper models to buy two of them in succession. The object was almost always to get them to trade up, and because the overall cost of ownership of a car in the U.S. is not strongly correlated to size or engine displacement or even fuel economy, getting buyers to step up to the next larger model was both reasonably possible and good for the bottom line.
S models were built in 1978 not 1980 as leftover Vega bodies were from 1977. Also no mention that the 262V8 was initially offered in Monzas.
I have doubts any Vega-bodied Monza S coupes were ever sold, much less the almost-3000 units often claimed. The brochure shot here is almost the only one I’ve ever seen even in photos or real life (I once found one other photo that I posted on the rare Vega/Monza thread), and a Google image search for a Monza S comes up blank except for the photo shown here.
In Quebec, in French, we called these cars Chevrolet « dégâts »and Pontiac « désastre ». Dégâts means damage, ans desastre means disaster. It was prophetic!
What else did this corporate engineering staff work on? Was it a new organization made up of people from the divisions? It seems expensively redundant, or had they already decided to begin to centralize almost everything, as happened later?
Engineering Staff was not part of the divisions, which had their own engineering departments, and it had been around for a very long time (since well before WW2). It was a Sloan thing, kind of a follow-on to Kettering’s Research Laboratories.
It did various advanced and developmental engineering projects, some of which were picked up by one or more of the production divisions. For instance, their transmission development group did a lot of work on torque converter transmissions, which led in the forties to Buick Dynaflow and the original Chevrolet Powerglide transmission, and a group within Engineering Staff did a lot of the initial development on the Buick aluminum V-8, although Buick ended up redesigning it quite extensively. As I understand it, Engineering Staff also provided additional engineering support for divisional projects, I assume on a consultancy basis.
Since each division had its own engineering staff, including an “advanced” section doing R&D, it was arguably redundant, but Sloan was very keen on the importance of enabling the corporation to develop new technology and new engineering IP, which, given the rapid pace of automotive development in the twenties and thirties, was a fairly logical idea. The divisional R&D was focused on that division’s needs, and it was clear there would sometimes be promising new technology that would be beyond the resources, budget, or inclination of any one division, but that it was in the corporation’s interests to develop, either for the eventual benefit of the manufacturing and supply divisions or to license to other companies.
Chapter 14 of Alfred Sloan’s My Years With General Motors explains how the central-office Engineering Staff came to be. He described its purpose like this:
“The Engineering Staff provides an intermediate, medium-range link between the Research Laboratories and divisional engineering activities. It chiefly develops new engineering concepts and designs, and appraises them for commercial application.”