Here’s the thing: some of us have relationships with cars. This is an indisputable fact, yet on the surface it makes no sense at all. Cars are manufactured objects. They are insentient. They cannot return our devotion, at least until AI evolves another few degrees. Should any friends and/or family members confess to having a relationship with their refrigerator, I would most likely edge cautiously into a far corner of the kitchen, cell phone in hand, carefully considering the proper moment to call the local mental health hotline. At the same time, our fridge is, like our car, simply another manufactured metal box that undergoes a styling refresh and addition of features every few years. In preserving our food it provides an essential service on par with our car’s role in providing a means to get from point A to point B.
Yet most people–correct me if I’m wrong–never become emotionally attached to a refrigerator. What gives?
This is no doubt too weighty a question to pose in one of these short forays into automotive history, but nevertheless I have some observations: first, automobile obsession is by no means a universal condition. My wife, for example, hasn’t the slightest interest in cars; in fact, she barely recognizes our current vehicle in the Costco parking lot. For her, the automobile may rank well below our refrigerator given that that our KitchenAid icebox requires negligible maintenance and doesn’t require a weekly top-up of freon to the tune of $60.
Second, auto obsession could very well be generational, as it shows signs of abating. I have little doubt there are some members of the rising generation(s) that may be car-fixated, but proportionately their numbers seem far fewer than, for example, within my peer group. Many factors are involved in this apparent decline, but some that come immediately to mind include the car’s implication in climate change together with the fact that there are too damn many of them and they cost too much to buy and keep. One of our sons doesn’t own one of the culprits at all and has no desire to as he lives in the heart of the city where a car is demonstrably more trouble and expense than it’s worth.
The third, perhaps we can lay at the feet of the zeitgeist . . . humans evolve and interests wax and wane. The automobile was once on the cutting edge of technological advancement and innovation, but that hasn’t been the case for quite some time. I admit that the monumental push toward automotive electrification may seem to bely this assertion, but that phenomenon may be attributed to the need to address some of the underlying issues posed by the internal combustion engine that has powered many millions of cars for well over a hundred years. Otherwise, technological and scientific focus has moved on to other arenas, including the aforementioned AI, as well as space travel and the hazily-termed metaverse, together with scientific, social, and political concerns more pressing than mere transportation.
Historically, of course, mere transportation has been a very big deal, especially on the personal level. For the past few generations the automobile has supplied a measure of freedom and mobility unknown in the vast span of human history. The car has allowed us to see large parts of the nation and world that would have been largely beyond our reach in earlier times, together with the mobility to change life circumstances at a moment’s notice. However, that was only part of the bargain. My Simca, Saab, or Lancia could have provided that capability and still existed on the level of the humble refrigerator, as an appliance.
So, there must be some other factors involved.
In my humble opinion, our fascination with the automobile has come about because it exists at the intersection of technology and art. Art, you might ask, glancing suspiciously at the aforementioned Simca, Saab, and Lancia. I certainly could have chosen better examples, you could argue, such as the Ferrari Daytona referenced a few episodes back. Point taken, but art is more than mere aesthetics: as applied to the automobile, art is the totality of design applied to address specific questions, including how we protect and preserve both driver and occupants of the vehicle while at the same time providing a tactile and visual experience that allows them to interact with machine and environment in a way that is . . . pleasing.
Pleasing, of course, is a loaded and inexact word as pleasing people can mean a variety of different things in different situations and different locales. For Detroit in the Brougham Era, it meant appealing to a contrived sense of luxury and well-being that cosseted the car’s occupants from the vicissitudes of an encroaching world. Pleasing Germans of the same general period may have meant providing a solid platform with which to negotiate the rigors and risks of the Autobahn. For the French it might mean an experience tangentially related to the American Brougham expectation, except it was dialed back and re-purposed: comfort was still important, but so was economy of means with more regard for form-follows-function rather than baroque excess.
Pleasing the Italians of the same period meant a variety of things depending on the application. For the family berlina a fusion of French and German standards might have been in order, with autostrada performance edging out comfort. For the sporting machinery, outward appearance was ratcheted up as a factor; the Italians have had a keen eye for form since at least the Renaissance and the reduced necessity for creature comforts together with the need to accommodate only one or two passengers allowed designers to dial up the styling (art for art’s sake) factor.
Like the British Empire before it, the UK auto industry of the ’70’s was all over the map. England addressed the entire spectrum of the automotive hierarchy, from the lowliest Reliant Robin and Austin Mini to the aristocratic Aston Martin and Rolls-Royce, with entries in every niche along the way. How did the disintegrating British car industry please its clientele in the home market? By giving them everything they demanded until the system collapsed. Did a specific British automotive attribute exist? It’s difficult to choose just one. The sports car is arguably a British invention, so we could concentrate on that aspect. Or we could choose the engineering purity of the Mini or the Lotus Elan. Or we could tout the invention of that SUV archetype, the Range Rover, or perhaps extol the sensual qualities of uppah-class Connolly leather and burl walnut dashes, a British hallmark . . . there’s something for everyone, but it all came crashing down and British auto industry exists now only as captive divisions of foreign-owned conglomerates.
And the Japanese? You might argue that Japan’s auto industry’s goal was to please the world. It was the first to concentrate on something besides its home market, although it capably served that as well, from Kei cars to the twelve-cylinder Toyota Century. But early on the Japanese auto industry realized its future survival would rely on foreign markets, something other nations’ manufacturers seemed slow to realize. So how is a Japanese car defined so far as pleasing its customer base? Depends on which customer we are talking about, as soon they set out to please everyone, everywhere, and came damn close to succeeding. Then, for good measure, the South Koreans followed in their footsteps. Could the Chinese and Vietnamese be far behind?
All this is a very roundabout way of getting to today’s real story, the next Japanese car to find a foothold in our household. After two American vehicles that succeeded in fulfilling their assigned utilitarian role while inspiring minimal passion, or pleasure, as it were, the little Geo Metro from last week’s episode inched toward the pleasure principal (with apologies to but not direct citation of Herr Freud). Did the Metro arrive somewhere in the vicinity of that intersection between art and technology? I think it did. As with the Mini and Lotus cited above, there was a certain purity of engineering and design that verged on the inspirational, at least in my eyes. It was mostly in the Mini mold, but to some degree it also referenced the Lotus, whose goal had been to achieve the most with the least. “Simplify, then add lightness,” in Colin Chapman’s words.
And so we finally arrive at today’s featured car: a 1997 Nissan Sentra.
Together with Toyota, Nissan faced the vicissitudes of the American market early on, learning as it went. For a long time its reputation shone brightly, maybe the brightest of any of the Asian companies. The 510 proved that the Japanese could build a world class economy car, and then the engineers added two cylinders to the 510’s OHC Four and blitzed a moribund sports car market with the 240Z, aka the Japanese E-Type. Then for good measure in 1989 they dropped their latest SOHC V6 into a new Maxima and stormed the bastion of the heretofore unassailable Euro sports sedan.
By 1997, Nissan seemed unstoppable. They presented a full range in the U.S., from the DOHC 16 valve Sentra to the V6 Maxima and that uber-SUV, the Pathfinder, together with the awe-inspiring 240Z successor, the 300ZX. In response, Honda offered a SOHC 4 Civic, an underwhelming six cylinder Accord, a re-badged Isuzu Trooper, and a 2.2 liter four cylinder Prelude. Oh, also Nissan had the bang-up-to date Quest minivan and Honda had the stopgap first generation Odyssey . Toyota’s range may have competed more directly, but it retained a somewhat staid reputation in comparison to Nissan’s burnished performance image.
This was the background in which I chose a car to follow the Metro. The ubiquitous Civic seemed nice enough, but appeared quite plain for what you paid, plus Honda dealers were notoriously unyielding on price. The Corolla had a reputation for blandness, plus I was not far removed from the negative vibes of my time-less (as in refusing to stay in time) previous Toyota. Of the the indomitable Japanese triumvirate that left Nissan.
I’d never owned a Nissan, although I’d had plenty of seat time in various models owned by friends over the years, including a couple of 510 wagons, a B-210 (or was it a B-52? Memories fade), and a 240Z. The Z-car was a special case as I commuted in a work carpool with four people; the catch was one of the designated cars was a Datsun two seater, which meant that on the 240Z’s appointed days two of us were relegated to the rear luggage compartment, where we lay supine. Sounds uncomfortable, right? Yes, but we were also close to the rear speakers, which is where I first heard Hotel California, so the pain wasn’t without rewards.
In any case, an acquaintance had recently purchased the local Nissan franchise, so when I noticed an ad in the Saturday newspaper car section proclaiming leasing deals with zero down and $110 monthly payments, I was off like a shot to check out the Sentra. Now the previous incarnation of the Sentra included the SE-R model that had become an enthusiast touchstone, so my car geek radar had definitely picked up on that tidbit. I consulted the oracle, in this case, Car and Driver, and found a glowing assessment of the reworked for ’95 model. What more incentive did I need?
Given that I knew the owner, I was immediately ushered into his office and he performed the honors. His only concern expressed during the whole process was, “Can you drive a stick?” Well, we know the answer to that. A total of one hour later I was driving home in a freshly prepped ’97 GXE, refrigerator white with a 115 horsepower (more than double the Metro’s total), 1.6 liter twin-cam,16 valve VVT and a 5-speed manual. By my standards, the GXE came absolutely loaded, with a/c, power windows and mirrors, cruise control, a cassette stereo, and upscale velour upholstery, all for just over a hundred bucks a month–not exactly chump change in 1997, but still a pretty low entry fee for a brand new car. The terms allowed 12,000 miles a year and provided free oil changes for the three year life of the lease.
Obviously, the Sentra was a class up on the Metro, but it remained a very small car by American standards. Any perceived extra bulk was minimal, so driving it didn’t require a great deal of adjustment, save for when you floored the throttle, and then, Whoa, Nelly . . . it was like being beamed up to the Enterprise. That still-little-though-much-bigger-than-the-Metro’s four cylinder just pulled and pulled, all the way up to its 6800 RPM redline (once broken in, needless to say). Under the hood the engine looked like something out of a tuner’s shop with a composite valve cover. For 1997, that was pretty impressive stuff. As for handling, C and D observed that the Sentra had “exemplary grip” (maybe limited by its its 155/80 13 inch tires); the new beam axle replacing the previous generation’s fully independent set-up was viewed with suspicion, but performance-wise it was pretty much a wash. For an economy car, the Sentra seemed like an enthusiast’s holy grail.
As for the interior, it impressed. Frankly, the dash, seats and general appearance all seemed a class above the (ahem) Civic, and more than matched the current Lexus-fied Corolla. In objective terms, space could be a bit limited for four or five people, but it was a limo compared to our Metro. And among the superlatives with which it showered the Nissan, Car and Driver observed that “BMW’s 3-series . . . could learn something from (the) Sentra’s anti-austerity”, an observation that would come back to haunt Nissan.
In summary, it was an admirable package, representative of what I came to think of as ‘Peak Nissan’. You could argue in fact that this period of the late ’90’s was ‘Peak Japan’, as the Japanese auto industry was flexing its muscle, manufacturing several vehicles that were impressive in engineering, content, and quality. Think of the 1997 300ZX, Mazda RX-7, and the Toyota Supra, cars still regarded as high water marks, not not only for their respective manufacturers, but the entire industry. Oh, and then there was the Lexus LS 400, which frightened and then lit a fire beneath the entire German automotive establishment, while the Acura NSX did the same for the exotic car industry.
And then . . . and then . . .
The bottom dropped out. As the new millennium dawned, Nissan merged with Renault and in a palace coup the cost cutters took control with their austerity programs and bottom line fixation. Honda and Toyota also became implicated in the race to the bottom, or at least the middle, as their new models were noticeably shadows of their former glory. The next generation Camry, Civic, Accord, Maxima, Altima, and indeed most of the new products of the Japanese titans were met with reservations by the automotive press due to a decline in features and apparent quality of materials. And then one by one the iconic sports models disappeared, leaving a vacuum in their place.
Some time later when I drove the successor to my ’97 Sentra, I was shocked to find that most of those qualities I’d admired and extolled had disappeared in the next generation. Granted, the car in question had a few miles on it by then, but everything was sagging: the doors, the upholstery, the headliner, the muffler . . . you name it. The car bore almost no relation to its predecessor.
Reputation is ultimately a fickle thing. It thrives until it doesn’t. Just ask General Motors. By the end of the decade, Nissan’s rested in tatters. The soul of the company went AWOL, victim of the good (?) intentions of those mired in the old Oscar Wilde adage: ‘they understand the price of everything and the value of nothing’. I’m not going to argue that engineers, designers, and stylists need always be given free rein without adult supervision (my beloved Lancia, sadly, is a case in point), but when the bean counters gain ultimate control and dictatorial powers there comes a time when the intersection between art and technology becomes so blurred that it is effectively lost. This is why you can’t insist that a car is like a refrigerator . . . emotions are in play, together with a hard-to-quantify something at the heart of an automobile. ‘Soul’ may be a term overused when it comes to cars, but it may be the most useful description of that crossroads where art and technology interact.
And Nissan lost it.
Rather than leading the charge when it came to producing soulful cars, they began to regress backwards into the production of appliances. The newfangled CVT saves some manufacturing cost and gets decent gas mileage? Buy ’em by the truckload! They need a rebuild in 50,000 miles? Oops! Our Renault partner makes a living by producing ugly, but charming cars? We’ll make ugly, but charmless cars! GM and Chrysler employ playskool-grade plastics that look like crap and wear even worse? Where’s our checkbook?
I occasionally drove Nissan rentals over the following years, the most egregious example being a mid-teens Versa four door. Its CVT drone was occasionally interrupted by an alarming moaning that seemed to indicate imminent mechanical Armageddon. At the same time I was sweating bullets as we attempted to negotiate a steep grade, given that it seemed unlikely the car would ever reach the summit without trailing assorted gears and rubber bands in its wake. Meantime, the Versa’s interior’s chief feature was its sheer cheapness: in contrast to my ’97 Sentra, it seemed that every feature had been chosen on the basis of a deep native stinginess. All told, it was a depressing and joyless ride.
A first generation Rogue of the same vintage shared many of the Versa’s shortcomings: everything seemed to be designed with cost-cutting in mind. Its interior, though reasonably airy, still seemed cramped and cheerless, while a good deal of the trim seemed to be plastic masquerading as chrome. As for styling, such as it was, the little SUV had a face only a mother could love. At least, unlike the Versa, the seats were comfortable.
Some years later at the airport car rental counter in Portland, Maine I was given the choice between a vast Chevy Suburban and a current model Nissan Murano. Glancing at my wallet and calculating the cost to fill the Suburban’s 28 gallon gas tank together with its 17 mpg thirst, I went with the Murano, which apparently been sent on its way from the factory carrying the lowest available trim level. All the same, I noted that some progress in materials and aesthetics had been made, but for a vehicle aimed at the near-luxury market it still featured ample evidence of penny-pinching. The Murano performed well enough, CVT notwithstanding, with a helping of V6 grunt, and it had those comfortable Nissan seats, but for an SUV whose list price was well above my daily driver at home, it did not impress. Plus, what was going on with that rear quarter panel?
The final sample was a modest subcompact Kicks I picked up in New Orleans this spring, a model that filled a budget niche not far above and beyond the one occupied by the old Versa sedan during the previous decade. The Kicks may be the closest thing we have stateside to the SUV category I mentioned last week, the Shoebox Economy Size, although it is a size up from the Suzuki Ignis that struck my fancy a couple of months ago. It comes with 1.6 liters and 122 horsepower, neck and neck with the specs of my ’97 Sentra . . . not much progress engine-wise in two and a half decades, then . . . and is FWD only, so the utility part of the equation is in question. Nevertheless, the Nissan actually had something approaching, dare I say it, a soul. We drove the little car down I-10 to Gulf Shores, Alabama and back, a minnow amongst the domestic 4×4-gaping-chrome- grill-land-sharks. Aside from the intimidation factor, the itty-bitty SUV held its own, and was actually fairly enjoyable to drive. It may have even evoked a few slumbering memories of my old Sentra from 1997: a blessing from the Lord, to quote Monty Python.
Will Nissan emerge from its penny-pinched and moribund state to arise from its death bed? Stranger things have happened. With Carlos Ghosn, the dark lord of austerity, in the slammer, things may yet improve. The newer models, starting with the Kicks and the latest Rogue and Altima, show some promise, as does the late-to-the-retro-party Z. Will the company ever regain its former premier position in the automobile pantheon? That remains a tall order. First, Nissan has to reclaim their space at the junction where art and technology meet, and pray that they might breathe a smidgen of soul back into their hapless progeny. At the same time maybe they can remember how they once were able to connect with (and please) those customers who seek inspiration and connection with their cars. Should they succeed, maybe they could show BMW how it’s done.
I remember a time when I was very impressed by Nissan. Although I have always had much Honda Love, I also had a relationship with Nissan. A cousin bought a 280Z around 1976. My father bought a 4×4 King Cab pickup in 1980-81 and a former law partner bought a bright red 89 or 90 Maxima (the 4DSC). I never much cared for the styling of the Altima, and started to lose interest after that. And then, as you say, things went bad.
I recall that the Versa came out the same time as the Honda Fit, and we checked out both. You nailed it when you said that the Versa lacked joy – I didn’t care enough to even drive it.
And what a horrible feeling it is to get used to a beautifully designed, feature-packed model only to see the cost-cutters go to work on it and suck all of the appeal out of later versions.
I rode in a base hatch Versa a few years ago. It belonged to a retired attorney, a friend-of-friends. It was joyless even as a passenger for a short ride. And I certainly wondered why this guy, who could probably afford anything, chose such a dull car. He had a nice house in Palo Alto and I suspect he had a nicer refrigerator.
LOL! His refrigerator is more expensive than his car! Which is definitely possible, there are some damned expensive fridges out there.
And everything on a new refrigerator, like most everything else these days, can be controlled by your phone. Didn’t I read that there’s a model that will automatically add used items to your grocery list? If not, there will be soon . . .
After checking out the prices of new refrigerators, if he bought one a Versa was probably all he could afford!
I haven’t driven the Versa hatchback, but I’ve been told it’s not quite so dire as the old sedan. Unfortunately, it looks like it’s been axed and the sedan is all that remains for the U.S. market. Have to admit that the latest Versa sedan doesn’t look as bad. I suppose one may turn up at the rental car counter, but I would probably select something else if given a choice.
I also had a friend that kept a 4DSC for many years. The styling never did age much, but as with any twenty year old car, keeping it on the road became a challenge. I admit that the version that followed never had the same appeal.
Fantastic little cars, these were. I bought a ’96 GXE 5-speed in December of that year for $11,995 out the door, and it remains the best car I ever owned. I wasn’t enthralled with the looks of it, particularly the cheap plastic wheel covers that didn’t like to seat properly on the rim, making them look “wobbly”, but it was well equipped, fairly fun to drive, and it did its job flawlessly for nearly 6 years and well over 200,000 miles. The odometer stopped working at 186k, and I owned it for another year after that, so I estimate about 220k when I sold it on for $800 via Ebay in late 2002. As evidenced by my mileage, those were very busy years, and the Sentra was my 120 mile round-trip daily commuter as well as the primary car for our family of 4 for most of its time with me. Not a single hiccup did it utter. It asked for nothing but oil changes and typical wear items. I was so impressed with it that in 2000 I bought an off-lease ’97 Quest to replace my then wife’s aging but beloved Saab, and we got great service from that one too. Peak Nissan, for sure.
Amen concerning those plastic wheel covers! I always envied the GLE’s for their aluminum wheels (and their tachometers–it was at least a misdemeanor not to have provided a tach for the Sentra’s high-winding engine).
I’m pleased to hear that your GXE held up. I only had the abbreviated leasing experience, so I always wondered about longevity. Next week’s number delves into a long term experience with one of the Nissan’s close competitors. (Spoiler) It didn’t come out as well as your Sentra.
I had the opportunity to drive one of those Quests at the time, and I admit that I thought it was the best van on the market at the time.
1997 peak Nissan? Right before they experience a financial collapse and get taken over by Renault? No. That’s like saying a 2007 Cobalt was peak GM.
https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1999-jan-31-fi-3405-story.html
Well, I think the point was that the ’97 generation was the last before the cost cutting began in earnest after the Renault merger.
As Paul stated in his post, the cost cutting began long before the Renault take over.
I know the Renault Nissan Mitsubishi Alliance likes to call it a merger, but it was as much of a “merger of equals” as the DaimlerChrysler merger. Yes Nissan got a small share of Renault in the deal, but Renault got much more of Nissan and more importantly Renault got control.
I bought a driveway stain 97 Sentra NZ new 2 prior owners 363,000kms on the odo 5 speed manual pwr glass no AC it ran and drove as well as it ever had I’d known it since ’99 when my exs sister bought it as a low mileage lightly used car, when I got it it was dirty with a couple of rust repairs done and other wise untouched it passed a WOF inspection immediately I registered it adjusted the clutch cable and drove it a few times,
I bought it to give to my teen daughter as an alternative to my Citroen Xsara TDI but no she like the turbo diesel shove and the pin sharp handling of the Citroen and kept that, I sold the Sentra before I got to like it too much and saw it again last year still going strong.
They were great little cars for what they were good fuel economy, anvil like reliability, medium to good handling within the Japanese national speed limit on good roads, However I know exactly why my girl preferred the Xsara, comfort and excellent road manners/handling are hard to go past, ease of repair and parts availability hadnt entered her orbit yet as I been able to do any repairs the Xsara needed, now that she has experience of that she accepted a Corolla from the same aunt that had achieved driveway stain status after being replaced by two EVs a Leaf and a Tesla,
I had a rental Tiida the Sentras badge replacement and it was horrible.
Love the driveway stain description for older cars! Never heard that one. Amazing tale of the 363,000 km Sentra, too. What a survivor. I probably would have sided with your daughter given the choice between the Nissan and the Citroen as I have a weakness for French cars in general.
The Tilda in the U.S. was called the Versa hatchback, and the consensus here seemed to be that the hatchback wasn’t quite so bad as the sedan, but I never drove one so can’t comment.
Peugeot peaked later than that with the 406 beautiful cars in styling and to drive.
Nissan chopped two cylinders from the Prince six for the 510 they inherited from the merger and replaced them for their 240/260 Z and C sedans but for pickups in this market kept building the BMC B series into the late 70s.
I drove a Peugeot 308 diesel of that vintage from Paris up to northern Germany and back. I loved that car–one of my top all-time rentals.
I’ll have to do some research on the NZ Nissans . . . sounds like some were quite different from what we received stateside. The BMC tie-in is news to me, at least.
That might be the most thorough and thought-provoking introduction to a COAL I’ve ever read! And it made me realize I’m kind of attached to my refrigerator right now. It’s 13 years old and after a brush with replacement a couple years ago, I realized I don’t like most new fridges nearly as much. I’ll be sad when it dies.
I think people are attached to cars so much because they are so intertwined with our lives. Everywhere you go almost, your car is involved, including many of the most memorable events. First date? Car was there. First real job? Car was there. Wedding? The first thing you did as a couple after the event was drive off in the car. Etc., etc. The only product people buy that has more emotional attachment is their house, which of course is even more intertwined with life.
I do agree that the artistic aspect of automobiles has a lot to do with the passion surrounding them.
As for Nissan, you’re essay makes me realize I have very few opinions about Nissan. It’s the manufacturer I have the least personal connection with. I’ve never owned one, never driven one, and I don’t remember ever even riding in one. No close family members or friends have had one. I can think of connections to almost every other major company, but not Nissan. I do admire them for keeping the Z going all these years, and Godzilla is a hell of a car (from what I’ve heard).
You’re not alone in liking older refrigerators.
https://monitortop.freeforums.net/
Although the ones featured in this forum are more like 70-90 years old!
I can understand having an attachment to an old refrigerator. . . those things lasted forever! Isn’t it the rule of thumb that most major appliances have a seven year life span these days? And they cost an absolute fortune.
Thanks Jon! And I’m intrigued to hear that someone may be attached to his fridge! Mine is mostly tolerated, probably due to the memory of crawling under the house to run a water line for the ice maker.
I think you’re right about the way we associate our cars with memories of landmark events in our lives, and that’s probably a factor in our attachment to them. I’ll have to reflect, though . . . have bad memories affected my feelings for certain cars, as well?
I admit the Skyline GTR didn’t enter my head as I was writing–we see so few of them here in the U.S. that they’re a bit off the radar, but I have seen them around recently, mostly in the hands of Asian students at the local college.
This COAL entry has a “History Of The World Part 1” sense to it, in that you’ve pretty much summarized not only the ups and downs of the automotive experience as seen through Nissan-tinted glasses, but also the “relationships” that some humans establish with this unique group of modern mobility appliances.
This brings up a long held belief of mine that nothing fails like success. Paul N’s “Deadly Sins” series nicely describes this repeating concept in the automotive world.
A more human centered example of failing success is PayPal, Tesla, and SpaceX creator Elon Musk, who abandoned his golden goose concept of creating great companies to buying an established company (Twitter) and (at least from today’s perspective) is screwing up so badly that bankruptcy of his overpriced prize is mentioned in financial circles.
Perhaps arrogance over past successes, whether it is Nissan’s, GM’s, or Elon Musk’s is a cause for these deadly sins, or maybe [also] it is the greedy desire too make greater profits by penny pinching products and services and thinking no one will notice, but it seems clear – success eventually seems to breed failure.
Thank you for a well written and quite comprehensive history of the [automotive] world. Part One.
By the way, I had a first generation body style Datsun Z (1978 280Z) and it is hard to think that two adults could lie in the way back without great discomfit; regardless of what Eagles song was playing.
Good points. I do think it’s too early to predict what the outcome will be with Twitter. Musk is a lot of things, but dumb is not one of them. According to him, his interest in Twitter is not purely financial. No one knows what his game plan is exactly, but I’d be shocked if it went out of business and surprised if he didn’t improve its position in the long run.
What is Musk’s end game? I wonder if he knows? I admit, he used to intrigue me, but now he seems like someone who has begun to believe his press clippings. That said, I give him props for pretty much single-handedly raising the electric car into the public consciousness. We’ll certainly learn in the near future how smart he really is, I suspect.
The more I read about automotive history, the more I realize that I would never have made it as an auto executive. We berate the Roger Smiths and Carlos Ghosns of the the world, but I’m not sure who could have changed the corporate cultures of their respective companies. After all, objects in motion tend to stay in motion. It will be interesting to see how the Elon Musk saga turns out. Definitely not looking promising at the moment, and all because of hubris, or so it would seem.
Thanks for the photo! That brings back memories. The Z we rode in was that exact color. Still not sure how two of us fit back there, but we were both pretty skinny dudes in those days.
It appears that Nissan used cheap, sub-standard materials in their cars and trucks from the 1980’s thru today?
Interiors and exterior paint quality of the Nissans that I have observed in parking lots here in New Orleans don’t seem to hold up nearly as well as the same years Toyotas.
Is that especially true because of the heat and humidity of New Orleans? Would the discrepancy between Nissans and Toyotas be smaller in a cooler climate?
That was my first thought. Some of the testimonials above seem to indicate that the potential for a long life was there, at least in some Nissans. But I’ve also seen some pretty sorry looking survivors of all the major brands. All Japanese cars, I believe, of the 70’s and 80’s had rust issues, Toyotas included, but Honda may have been the worst until they finally got a grip on the problem. I’ve definitely seen many rusty Nissans, too, but most everyone seems to addressed the problem at this late date. I’ve read that Mazda continued to have rust issues into the ’00’s, but they seem okay in our climate, at least.
I’d argue that a key difference between cars and kitchen appliances, at least the big electrical appliances, is the level of interaction. I suspect many people get more engaged with a good chef’s knife or even a blender, than with their fridge. As for the generation thing, I’m in my mid-60’s and have several friends of my age who have little or no interest in cars, even if they are skilled high mileage drivers.
And when it comes to Nissan, if you put aside the sportier cars like the Z or later Skylines, I’d argue that the original 510 was peak Nissan. Sure, the Sentra you owned may have been better than its successors, but the 510 was so different than the pushrod and leaf sprung Japanese norm (at least for sedans exported to the US) and I think it really set the bar. Plus it was very popular with a diverse group of customers, in a way that has been matched only by the Civic, and for the Honda that took a long time (again, speaking for the US).
Anyway, I hope this doesn’t come off as critical; your post was insightful, superbly written as always, and I liked the way your observations led into your purchase of the Sentra. I suspect you will always be the only COAL contributor who owned both a Simca and a Sentra.
Perhaps the only one who owned a Simca and a Sentra, but not the only one who wrote about a Simca and a Sentra in his COAL 🙂
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/cars-of-a-lifetime/coal-1964-simca-1000-big-car-and-little-car/
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/cars-of-a-lifetime/coal-1993-nissan-sentra-se-r-how-do-you-define-daily-driver/
The exception proves the rule!
I tend to agree that the 510 was iconic for its time. The strange thing is that it seemed to come out of nowhere, and then Nissan/Datsun reverted back into making cars that fit the Japanese stereotype for awhile, with the exception of the Z, and then the 4DSC changed the equation once again. Interesting that the 510 still looks good today, while some of its successors just look odd.
Interesting observation, too about the chef’s knives and blenders. You can spend a fortune on both, which seems interesting considering their pretty basic functions. I suppose you could add the espresso maker to the list, too.
A great read, as always.
You did omit a very key historical aspect regarding Nissan: It was dying (massive losses) precisely because its old formula (which was so appealing to you) wasn’t working anymore. After massive losses in the mid ’90s, Carlos Ghosn arrived as CEO in 1996 to turn things around. Of course he had to cut costs drastically; otherwise Nissan would have gone bankrupt. And then the alliance with Renault happened in 1999, with Renault investing very large sums in Nissan to keep it afloat.
You seem to suggest that it was the cost cutting that almost killed Nissan; it was the other way around. They were on an unsustainable path, and cost cutting saved the company. And yes, the other Japanese had to cost-cut too. It was a painful time, but essentially necessary to survive. Buyers were not going to pay a 25-50% to buy a “fat” Camry over a Taurus anymore.
Yes, the cost cutting on interiors went a bit too far, and as you’ve noticed, in the last 15 years or so, things have evened out in that regard.
Frankly, very few cars in the whole industry escaped the cost-cutting era of the late 90s; everyone had to do it in order to keep competitive with the others. And then they all learned how to find a reasonable middle ground without increasing costs materially.
Your Sentra was already an early victim of that cost-cutting, with its simpler beam rear suspension and some other changes. But yes, the Versa was something all-together cheaper yet. It was targeted to the very bottom of the market.
The reality is that buyers like you, that used to buy small cars like the Sentra back then could afford something a bit nicer/bigger a decade or so later, and thus the market stratified, like the rest of our society.
Hey – do you think we’ve seen that before?
You know, like when we ended up with giant plastic crappy cars, circa 1970-1977?
It is possible that when marketing says “size sells”, but to keep prices down, the quality drops to satisfy the need for the larger vehicle size?
We might be seeing giant plastic crappy SUVs soon?
There might be some cause/effect there?
Re: giant plastic crappy SUVs: could we already be there?
This is why I will never be CEO of General Motors! Or one reason, at least. Utter incompetence may be another factor, though . . .
History does seem to confirm that any company run by or for enthusiasts can expect a relatively short shelf life. Look at BMW and Porsche. They have decided to follow the market rather than die making a final stand on the hill of sports car purity. They still make cars for the enthusiast, but they are not the major sellers by any stretch of the imagination. The latest example might be Mazda, who no longer trumpets Zoom Zoom, but quietly goes about building bigger and bigger SUV’s. And then there’s the Ferrari Purosangue.
The austerity issue is an intriguing one, not only as it pertains to automobiles, but macroeconomics as well, as battles are still being fought on the proper way to manage economic downturns. We went from a Keynesian approach to Thatcherism, or really the Chicago School of Economics approach, and there’s a great deal of anger and bitterness about its impact (op.cit. Naomi Klein). The British PM recently lost her job because she insisted on implementing divisive austerity measures. The basic question posed is: does austerity really work, or is it just another international income redistribution scheme? But those are all questions above my pays grade.
In automotive terms, austerity may have worked until it didn’t. Costs can only be cut so far until you end up with Nissan and GM in the ’00’s. Now everyone seems to fight to see how many features they can add on. But your comment on market stratification and the larger issue of car companies surviving downturns and changing market conditions is well taken.
Carlos Ghosn arrived
as CEOin 1996 to turn things aroundAt Renault, not Nissan. His success in turning Renault’s fortunes around saw him rise within their ranks prior to the Renault-Nissan alliance, and following that announcement he was appointed COO of Nissan to stop their bleeding. Nothing Nissan did prior to this remotely came close to getting costs under control and the near entirety of their home market product range was selling at a loss when Ghosn showed up…
Steven, what an enjoyable read! I applaud the fearlessness with which you approach assigning national character to the auto industries of various countries. Much to think about and to debate there. I guess one big difference between the characteristics of the various marques at their “peak” and now is that nowadays there’s much less room for a brand to show national character. The industry is so truly international/multinational that I don’t know how relevant it is in the modern world to think about the original country of origin for any particular brand. Nevertheless, it’s a fun place to start when trying to grasp or debate what may make one brand unique from another.
Personally, I’d put “Peak Nissan” back a few years, closer to the early than the mid-1990s. Of course, that’s based on my personal experience with a Nissan Sentra SE-R (see my COAL chapter about that, linked above). I loved my SE-R for all of the reasons why you enjoyed your GXE…but I think that between the 3rd (mine) and 4th generation Sentra (your GXE), Nissan shifted to a less performance, more cushy, car. Not that there’s anything wrong with comfort (and no human should have to ride long in the back seat of a 2nd generation Sentra), but I think that Nissan sort of lost its way trying to make a larger, less sporty, car. And that continued IMO.
Maybe the 2nd generation SE-R was more boy-racer than Nissan could ultimately support as the brand seemed to definitely be shifting to a more grown-up image along with generally upsizing all of its models by the mid 90s. It is all about taste, but for me, that was past peak.
Wow, with this opus, I wonder where you go next! 🙂
Oh, and btw, don’t go selling appliances short on soul. Refrigerators may be a bit frosty, but some appliances, like washing machines, seem to have soul and personality to spare…I’m just saying. And some cars that many (including me) refer to as “appliances” – e.g., the Toyota Prius – do seem to have tremendous followings.
Yes, don’t underestimate the power of a washing machine to change lives! There was a whole TV miniseries about how a washing machine led to one man’s dramatic downfall (Fargo season 1).
I think this might be true in a number of different ways. I don’t know how well the Sentra SE-R sold, but it can’t have done any favors to the already weakening coupe market, in particular the Nissan NX (same running gear but less practical, weirder-looking, and more expensive) and the 240SX (which was a bunch more expensive and didn’t offer a lot of performance advantage unless you were very keen on RWD or were planning on doing your own modifications). That was certainly my take at the time — they had three different cars that appealed to a similar range of buyers, and of the three, the Sentra made the most sense and was certainly the least expensive for Nissan.
When you look at the way Nissan developed those three coupes, you can begin to understand how their approach wasn’t sustainable and how they came to the dire straits they faced at the end of the 90’s. At the time, the choice must have been attractive for the sports coupe customer, but in the end the market was to small to merit that kind of attention,
It certainly didn’t help that the NX was sort of a rotten egg. I’m not fond of any of the Jerry Hirschberg Nissan designs, and the NX headlight treatment was enough to provoke trypophobia. The S14 240SX was reasonably handsome, but it was expensive, and the KA24E engine was gruff and not that powerful (especially given that a 240SX cost about as much as a Mazda MX-6 with the slick K-series V-6). The Sentra was a box, but it was an honest box, and the SE-R was a better value than the other two.
There were a lot of reasons for the collapse of the coupe market, but I have to think part of it was this awkward divide where the really desirable ones were way out of reach in price and the more attainable ones weren’t necessarily that appealing by that point.
Thanks, Jeff. Although I’m probably more naive than fearless! And I agree that the market has changed so much there’s not much room for national character any more, which is sad in some ways. It’s like American towns losing their distinctive downtowns. Everyplace looks the same now.
I tend to agree that peak Nissan was the 4DSC era. Certainly the Maxima that followed was already on the downhill slope. It’s an interesting question, in any case, and I’m sure someone has thought about it more carefully than I have.
Agree, also, on the appliance observation, although the newly introduced Prius may finally break out of the appliance niche! It’s quite a looker, maybe the best styled Toyota in quite some time.
“Peak Nissan” was the 89-94 Maxima, 93-97 Altima, 90-96 ZX, and 91-93 NX (an obscure car, but one of my favourites.) The next generations of *ima had the fat cut out by the popping of the Japanese bubble, then “Le Cost Killer” came in and took a scalpel to whatever shreds of finish and quality remained.
That said, the Sentra seemed to get lost in the ’90s. The previous-generation model was hobbled by antiseptic styling and its lack of airbags. This generation looked nice enough, but was there any compelling reason to choose one over a Civic or Corolla other than a better dealership, or a better price? I also recall the companion two-door was derided as a debasement of the 200SX name, and the SE-R decried as dynamically inferior to the B13 version that came before.
I had an airbag in my B13 Sentra. Also ABS. The airbag was a rare option that I chose to pay all of I think $90 extra for.
But I totally agree with your overall point about how the Sentra got lost in the 90s. And I think that’s why one reason Nissan gradually moved it into being what had been an Altima at the start of the decade. That, and like what Paul said above…not enough buyers really wanted a small car like the B13 Sentra by the mid-90s (and beyond).
Agree that “Peak Nissan” was before 1997, with “4DSC” Maxima, first Altima and B13 Sentra SE-R.
Fall 1997 was the ’98 Altima release and looked like a toad. Was too big for compact, too small for mid-size. Also, agree the B14 Sentra was blah compared to previous version. And disliked the 200SX, was like a Ford Tempo coupe, snoozy.
the ’98 Altima seemed to be trying a little too hard to be an Infiniti . . .
I always like the NX, too. Along with the little V6 Mazda MX-3. Enthusiasts had a lot of choices back then. They were probably a little spoiled.
Agreed, too, concerning the 200SX. A little too bland and didn’t live up to the image of its bigger brother. As for the Sentra comparison with the Civic, I address that next week!
It will be interesting when someone writes the real story of the Nissan-Renault marriage along with the Carlos Ghosn saga. Frankly, his story is one of those truth is stranger than fiction tales. Did anyone at the time realize the depth of Nissan’s difficulties?
It’s more or less a cliche in publishing that everyone has a washing machine, but that doesn’t mean there’s a market for the equivalent of a buff book about washing machines.
I’ve been idly thinking about a replacement for my current rather meh 2005 Honda Civic. I haven’t driven one, but it’s my impression that a Mazda3 would have a better fun-to-drive factor.
I’m not sure if that’s a challenge to test that cliche!
There goes my plans for “Washing Machines and Dryers: the Glory Years”!
We’ll be getting to the Mazda 3 very soon. You’re right about the 3’s fun to drive factor, although granted that the 2005 was a low point for the Civic.
We used to really have a large rental fleet of Nissan vehicles.
You know how rental fleets go – graveyard of unmovable or overproduced cars, right?
Well, I lived in rental cars for a large international rental car business and could choose my rides. Sometimes I would choose the Nissan to check it out.
Except for the Nissan Z and Maxima (during the 4DSC generation) – Nissans always failed to meet expectations compared to their competition. Overpriced and underwhelming. Knew there was going to be issues going forward for them back during those years.
I wouldn’t want a Nissan, even today.
Sad.
I have to say that it’s going to take a great deal of effort on Nissan’s part to get me to the point of buying one of their cars again. I’d be interested to hear more about your rental fleet and which brand worked the best and was the most reliable/durable…
Deep thoughts, Steven. I have bookmarked this to come back to and read again.
The psychology of our automotive affection. Personally I think it arises from mankind’s affection for the horse in previous centuries. You choose your horse/s with (more or less) care, you get used to it, care for it, look after ailments as they arise, and in time get to explore its limits – how fast it can go, how much it can pull. As your horse ages you might look towards a replacement before it breaks down and leaves you embarrassingly stranded. A friend comes to visit, and you admire his horse/s. You wonder how good his horse is compared with yours. Maybe you get a touch jealous of his horse and/or cart/carriage/whatever. And then there are people for whom “It’s just a horse”. part of the everyday landscape. .
Replace ‘horse’ with ‘car’ and it all sounds automotively familiar.
Intersection of technology and art? I’ll buy that.
Nissan? I think they’ve been Renaulted to death in Australia. Can’t think when I last saw a new one.
Thank you, Peter! I appreciate the encouragement,
You may be on to something with the horse tie-in. You would think I would have come to the same conclusion as my father was a horseman and I grew up with them. You really could have a relationship with a horse and I can see how it could be transferred to the automobile when the time came.
So, there aren’t many Nissan’s in Australia? I would think Oz would be a major market.
We used to be a huge market for them, Steven. They were assembled here, but somehow locally assembled Nissans never seemed as well built as local Toyotas or Mitsubishis.
They badly misjudged what used to be their major strength, the four cylinder family car market, replacing the RWD Bluebird 910 with a four cylinder version of the R31 Skyline called Pintara, a car which made a Volvo 740 look like your favourite supermodel. Meanwhile the rest of the world got a FWD Bluebird. I kind of lost interest in Nissan at that point (except for watching the later R32 Skyline GTRs at Bathurst), figuring they were an old man’s car company.
They tried with the better-looking U12 Bluebird (still using the Pintara name) with anecdotally worse assembly, before replacing that with the odd-looking U13 which almost nobody bought. Stories circulated in the press that they were going to close down, and even fewer folk bought them. Sure enough, local assembly stopped.
Downmarket the Pulsar (now imported) bopped along nicely until it was replaced by the awful Renault-platform Tiida, and upmarket the Maxima was offered, but you rarely saw them. For the last five years or so they’ve only sold SUVs, and you don’t see many of them. Horror stories of their CVTs leaving folk stranded (I’ve been in one that broke down) sent buyers elsewhere.
Nissan’s market share is down to around 4% here, comfortably outsold by the likes of Mazda, Hyundai and Kia. Toyota is #1 with >20%. I remember that generation of Sentra (Pulsar) being popular here, but that was a while ago. Nothing offered here really stands out.
By the way, we bought a new refrigerator this Spring when our 20+ year old SubZero was just requiring too many repairs and sometimes with long parts leadtimes. We replaced it with the only in-stock fridge that wouldn’t have required $10-20k in kitchen cabinetwork to fill the gap left by the giant SubZero. The new one is German.
That was a long run with the SubZero, probably much longer than the average life span of a refrigerator these days. Our daughter just bought a full suite of Italian kitchen major appliances. I’ll be interested to see how they hold up. And your German one, as well.
I am completely guilty when it comes to placing a major importance on relationships with cars. In my fifty years of car buying and owning, I can only think of two cars that I had that I didn’t initially care about. My first car, a ’66 Mustang was something that I was “encouraged” to buy by my Dad, and my first minivan, a ’90 Caravan, which I was “encouraged” to buy out of familial need. I eventually developed a relationship based upon respect for that Dodge, and my next minivan was chosen to please me. I got a fully loaded ’97 Chrysler Town and Country LXI, which I loved from day one.
My current stable consists only of vehicles that I love; two Mustangs, an F150, a Flex, and my newest and most improbable addition, an ’05 Lincoln Navigator. This year I’ve divested myself of three hobby cars that couldn’t sustain a strong relationship, all older Jags. A ’51 Mark VII (total project car), ’97 XJ6, and ’89 XJS convertible.
I had a few Datsuns too. Most notably a ’77 280 ZX 2+2, and a ’92 300 ZX. Also had a ’90 Civic SI, loved these too. Life is too short to drive boring cars.
I had a 2001 Sentra GXE (B15 generation, 2001-2006) from new. This gen is a mild refresh of the car featured (of the B14 generation) in the opening. Had a 1.8 engine (QG18DE) with 126 hp and 5 speed. Mine had four O2 sensors, I think later ones had fewer. The base XE and the better trimmed GXE had the same engine with the XE having a taller axle ratio. In the first two or three years of the B15, there was an SE model with the beloved and venerable SR20 engine with a few more horses. Later hot-spec Sentras had a 2.5 engine also used in the Altima, that was known for consuming screws that were supposed to fasten something in the intake tract. Assembly was at Agusascalientes (Mexico), recently moved from Tennessee.
I kept mine for about 15 years and 170,000 miles without it needing a significant repair. At the end of my time with it, it was getting rusty & the drivers’ floorboard connection to the left unibody was failing. A CEL sent me to my local mechanic, who recommended another shop (emissions specialist), who stated the price to fix was going to be north of $1000. (I need to re-register it so driving it with the CEL was not an option.) I don’t remember it ever needing a significant repair until then. Close call/near miss was the airbag light came on when I was driving over an extremely rough section of road. Reset it by pressing the door dome light switch 11 times within 11 seconds, or something. Didn’t get a Takata recall notice but worried about that.
Was offered almost nothing in trade for it, so sold it to an acquaintance who was a fairly skilled home mechanic. He fixed (likely) the evap system for next to nothing, solved the CEL. (Wasn’t the gas cap-tried that myself.) It was his daily driver for about two more years & he literally drove it all over the country without any worries about its fitness for duty. He might still be driving it except it was totalled by a drunk running a stop sign. Surely it was well over 200,000 miles when that happened.
My ownership impessions –
Extremely comfortable driver’s seat. As for the rest of the accomodations, I once chauferred myself & four others for a 200 mile trip. One of the riders said it was like a limo compared to his Saturn.
Steering was rubbery and vague. Very little on-center feel. Needed constant corrections in crosswinds. Was still ‘tossable’ with its short wheelbase and quick ratio and adequate suspension.
Clutch and transmission were light touch, certainly not like the 70s Detroit cars I’d driven in earlier times. Clutch got a little heavier when the drivetrain fully warmed up; something must’ve been binding slightly. Worried me but never caused a problem, never had to replace the clutch. Finding 3rd gear in a hurry, as in a 2-lane passing maneuver, was a bit of a challenge. On one road trip relatively early in my ownership, it cause me a problem when I repeatedly selected 5th when trying for 3rd while passing on a 2-lane road. The shift linkage was a beefy solid rod, was just up to me to figure it out.
Engine power at 126 hp was totally sufficient. Had good torque at low-mid RPMs, made for great response in everyday driving. MPGs for me usually in the range 35-40, although I focused on economy in my driving manners most of the time.
McPherson strut front, and ‘multilink beam’ rear suspension that cut costs & also resulted in a capacious trunk vs. the B13 that was ‘peak Sentra’ for enthusiasts. I was often amazed at how big & how much stuff the thing held when we needed it to. The rear was held up by coils of course (did anything but trucks still use leaves then?). The lateral link was not just a Panhard rod, the ‘multilink beam’ Scott-Russel linkage is?was? unique to Nissan. Nice technical description here: “https://www.se-r.net/about/g20/scc/oct98/tb.html. Nissan engineers’ peper here but will cost you $30. https://www.sae.org/publications/technical-papers/content/950585/ . The rear suspension got generally good reviews for roadholding, except that it was reputedly prone to snap oversteer at the limit. I never experienced it, never wanted to. Did experience the rear end ‘jacking’ itself once when I was on a curvaceous exit ramp at rather high speed. Was steering to the right – ok – then braking and quick snap to the left – rear end of the car was suddenly a few inches higher off the pavement in the midst of that turn. Dry road & I was slowing down for an ever harder right, don’t think I came close to wiping out.
So, the car certainly had its flaws, but I still think it was the best new car I’ve ever owned. Beat the Renault Alliance (hey, I’m from Kenosha and my friends worked at the plant – though if I’d asked them, they’d have warned me away) which had its charms but was just a bit too flimsy and cheap feeling, and too slow with the 1.4 engine. Narrowly beat out the 1989 Accord LXi, due to its calipers always hanging & warping the rotors, and to the less comfortable seats and driving position and less useful trunk space and single-folding seat. And beats the 2017 Cruze (had Mom’s GM bucks and wanted adult-accomodative rear seats) that I own today, with its sluggish-shifting manual transmission too biased toward OD ratios, its 1.4 TGDI engine that I’m worried over the pistons in, its relatively poor low-speed torque that I don’t want to chance using too much of anyway, and its only marginally improved fuel economy. Also harder to get in & out of though I am getting older.
In sum, the B15 2001-2006 Sentras were post-merger and were cheapened somewhat, but were mostly ‘in the can’ designs at the time of the merger (no CVT!). They weren’t great cars from an enthusiast’s view, but still, they still had much of what made Nissan a desirable car at the time, a very good car for average drivers in average duty.
Very nice writeup, homage, and lament.
Nissan’s trajectory has been an immense disappointment. Probably worthy of a Deadly Sins series. There are some signs of life there recently, but they so thoroughly torched their own reputation that it will take a long time to rebuild brand perception. Far harder to climb up the hill you chose to tumble down.
I’d personally take the Lexus-fied Corolla, that was quite an eye-popping refined piece for the time, but your Sentra was a great car. Brother in law had one well into the 200s and it served him well. That was traded in on a spaceship Elantra, which is now burning excessive oil as H/K seem prone to do, at half the miles.