For the past 95 years, Peugeot have used the “zero in the middle” numbering system for their car models. The first number is like a series – the bigger it is, the bigger the car – and the third number is more of a generation. Some series are true mainstays: there was a 201 (which initiated this numbering system in 1929), and the 202, 203, 204, 205, 206, 207 and 208 followed. Same for the 40- series. The 10- and 50- were less used, but featured some of the marque’s biggest hits. Then, there is the curse of the 60- series – the one that never really panned out.
For unlike their eternal domestic rivals, Citroën and Renault, Peugeot never quite managed to find success with any of their executive cars. And it hasn’t been through lack of trying. The 601 was a short-lived model (1933-35) with a wheezy engine – Peugeot dropped it and focused on the far more profitable 402. The war and reconstruction put the whole 60- series on ice for decades, before the 604 was launched in 1975. Ten years later, it was dismissed, having had a disappointing run.
There was no immediate replacement – the 505 was still selling quite well, so the higher-trim variant got the PRV V6 and filled the gap at the top of the range. But Peugeot weren’t done trying. The new flagship would be a completely new approach: to save costs, it would share the planned Citroën XM’s platform, engines and transmissions. That would make it a FWD model, but it had to be distinctly Peugeot – no hydropneumatics, no wagon variant, conservative three-box styling and, above all, solidity and quality.
Work on the new 605 began in late 1984, known internally as “Programme Z6.” Two styling proposals were presented to the top brass – the in-house team’s and Pininfarina’s, as was usual with Peugeot since the ‘50s. The Italians won that round, but soon people caught wind of the upcoming Alfa 164, which they felt looked pretty similar (a common enough issue with PF, historically). So the in-house team, with the help of Paul Bracq, reworked the Pininfarina design to make it more in line with the impending 405, to be launched in 1987.
The Z6 project was ambitious: the car was to run the gamut from 2-litre family hauler and Diesel highway cruiser all the way up to plush, V6-powered BMW-fighter. It was stuffed with more gadgets than ever before, with an unprecedented (for Peugeot) amount of wiring and relays running throughout the car. The unveiling was set to 1990 and projected sales over the next decade estimated at half a million. But then the PSA top brass, looking at their arch-rivals at Renault, thought the R25’s rumoured replacement might steal their thunder, so the whole Peugeot 605 / Citroën XM schedule was moved forward by a year – at the 1989 Frankfurt Motor Show, right in the backyard of Mercedes, Audi and BMW. Oh, the hubris.
Peugeot’s new flagship was born a tad premature. This had little to no incidence on many aspects of the car – the suspension (MacPherson struts at the front, IRS with double wishbones and coils at the rear) worked like a charm, the engines (a 2-litre 4-cyl. either caburated (115hp) or with Bosch fuel injection (130hp) and the famous 3-litre PRV 6-cyl. either with 12 valves (170hp) or 24 (200hp) were quite decent, if a little thirsty for the V6. No, the issue was the electrics.
The 605 was an expensive car and had a lot of nifty toys. The higher the trim, the more buttons were present in the cabin. But the massive wiring loom was quite substandard and developed a lot of shorts. Most times, this would only be an annoyance – windows wouldn’t open or the clock wouldn’t work. But some electric gremlins would also affect far more important features, such as headlights, windshield wipers or turn signals. Some cars even died suddenly on the highway.
The same problems affected the Citroën XM and, for the first couple of model years (1990 and 1991), PSA engineers worked overtime to address the issue. Ever the gentleman, Peugeot boss Jacques Calvet blamed the technical glitches suffered by the new PSA flagship cars on industrial action and hinted at deliberate sabotage. Most contemporary observers scoffed at the idea: there had been strikes in 1990, but somehow only the 605 and the XM were affected by them in this way.
Word travelled quick and initial sales were well below expectations – and well behind the Renault 25, which had still not been replaced. Peugeot could only issue a fleet-wide recall in 1992 and rewire the cars; the top-of-the-line SV24 models even had to be sent back to the factory for this. In the meantime, a couple of Diesel options were made available, which proved to be pretty popular on the domestic market. But the 605’s reputation was irredeemably tarnished by its first two model years; sales improved, but never exactly took off.
Another big problem entirely of Peugeot’s own making was the decision to give the 605 a more pronounced family kinship to its stablemate, the highly successful 405. The two cars were aimed at different customers and shared no sheetmetal, yet it was difficult to tell them apart from a distance. The 605 was wider and beefier than the 405, and the taillamps were a bit different, but that was just not enough to give the big Pug its own personality. Instead, it just seemed dated even as it was being launched.
The interior had also been designed by Pininfarina, but it seemed to age rather quickly, like the rest of the car. The 605 was given a quick facelift for MY 1995, chiefly consisting in a new grille and new headlights, but the dash stayed stuck in the ‘80s, with that tacked-on wood trim failing to add a touch of class to the whole deal.
Interior fit and finish was reputed to be better overall on these than it had been on the 604 – faint praise, but the learning curve had been steep. Unfortunately, Peugeot were still well behind the best in the business (e.g. Mercedes-Benz, Lexus or Volvo) and barely level-pegging with Lancia or Rover in terms of perceived quality. And that’s how they were seen in France, never mind export markets. Finding replacement parts – such as a door card for our Japanese market feature car – would take some doing nowadays.
Export sales, which were supposed to account for 60% of the 605’s totals, were well below expectations, especially from 1995 onward. It’s amazing that this late model example found a buyer in Japan, of all places. The heraldic lion badge on the trunk makes this a post-1996 car, on of the last external improvements afforded to a model that, by that point, was in literal free-fall, commercially speaking. Production was halted in May 1999, with plenty of cars in stock to sell for the rest of the year, as the 607 took over.
In total, a little over 250k units were made in ten years – of which 195k were made before the 1995 facelift. Furthermore, only 17% of 605s were powered by the V6, like this Japanese export model. The 607 that followed was pretty much a rebodied 605 (with more modern engines), as in the end, Peugeot had managed to turn their beleaguered executive sled into something reliable and competent. By then, nobody cared.
And the 607 similarly fell victim to the curse, somehow managing to tally a markedly worse score (under 170k units built in 11 years) than its predecessor. Nowadays, the big Pug is called 508. Best steer clear of the 6.
Related post:
Car Show Capsule: 1994-96 Peugeot 605-amino – They Wanted A French Ute, by William Stopford
It was the replacement for the 505 but looks like a larger 405.
A car with class and style. Something common in Pugs from the 80s and 90s.
Aesthetically it is much prettier than the sedans that were sold in the US in those years.
Interesting to read the advertisement “Conduire est un plaisir”. It is almost the same as BMW’s “Aus Freude am Fahren” ( = For the joy of driving).
It’s one of the more attractive large French cars out there and to my eyes, still holds up well today. Then again, I feel the same way about the 405 and while I do like the 505 having them all in the lineup at the same time (and for quite a while) felt a bit discordant.
The public problem with the design is likely that it debuted on the 405 and then trickled up. Had the 605 debuted first it may have helped both cars, not that the 405 had problems with that aspect.
Personally I find the Alfa 164 rather fetching as well, presented with a good 605 especially in this particular color) and a good 164 it’d be a difficult choice. I know you don’t see all that many Peugeots where you are and this would be far down the list of the ones most likely to be seen, so a very welcome sight.
That’s a ctually a really good point that I have never thought about. It should be easier to sell a smalller 605 than a bigger 405.
It’s alway the same : Put a switch from Jag into a Mondeo and everybody will say: “Oooh, look ! This car has got a switch from a Jaguar !
Put the same switch from a Mondeo into a Jag, and (almost) everybody will say:
“What a crappy banger it is – even the switches were taken from Ford’s part bin”.
That’s the way, people are “ticking”.
Since these weren’t sold in the US, I’m not exactly familiar with them, but the similarity with the 405 is just a bit too strong, diluting its prestige factor, to the extent it hoped to have one.
I’ll confess to rather liking the solid look of these, a contrast, it seems, to their sturdiness of function. They look more interesting in reality than photos. But I am unlikely to find one hereabouts, though they were for sale in this country, priced at a mere $80,000AUD in ’94.
They just sold 48 of them during their lifespan.
Given what else that sum could buy, I’m surprised they sold so many. Needless to say, I haven’t seen any of those 48.
The 405 was really successful here in Uruguay (as it was in Argentina). As for 605s, you’d see them downtown or in executive’s parking spots. The local agent took the trouble of importing many variants, so it’s likely there were just a few of each. I really liked the model but in a few years most were run down or simply disappeared. I guess it didn’t pay to have spares in stock. The 405s on the other side were also in several variants and many of them are still on the street almost 30 years later, most of them with the telltale clatter and black smoke plume.
These were never on my radar – as were most 90s cars. Not distinctive enough, much like the 405 and Alfa as others also mentioned.
Peugeot 605 were not that rare when new, however once these grew older they disappeared rapidly. Now you never see one. I don’t mind much, preferring a XM or old Jag more than these slightly boring sedans.
There was even “une version présidentielle”. Prolongée par Labbé. It was the French President Mitterand who had the plaisir de conduire – or at least to be driven around in it.
When the president of a company blames assembly workers for sabotaging quality (I can’t believe this was still going on in the 90s!) you know he is a dictator.
An executive-class car with a reputation for poor electrics! Surely the ultimate sign to steer clear of buying one.
And yet, without that glaring fault, it seemed to have all the right things on paper. It must have been galling for Peugeot to see Citroen’s XM and Renault’s 25 turn out reasonably successful, while this attractive car foundered. And it was attractive, unlike some later Peugeots. A family resemblance doesn’t seem to hurt Audi.
Actually it seems Peugeot asked Pininfarina to make their proposal more similar to the 164, which was already frozen in 1983 (designed by Enrico Fumia), and (accounts differ) when they were not satisfied with the result, or Pininfarina didn’t want to make a design too similar to another, they made the internal styling center rework Pinin’s proposal. Particularly, they wanted to add the side crease as in the 164 (whose styling maquette they saw in Pininfarina’s centre). It’s not very clear if this happened for the 405 or not.
I know the 604 was imperfect, but also potentially wonderful and in some respects class leading.
But this wasn’t – a French Ford Scorpio at best. What a missed opportunity.