You know what category of car book has always pissed me off? Books that claim to feature the “world’s worst cars” or some similar sort of sentiment. There’s an awful lot of these kinds of books out there, and my problem with all of them is the same: they conflate genuinely interesting cars with “worst” cars. Sure, some of the cars on these lists are genuinely bad – a broken dashboard clock is right twice a day, after all – but by far the vast majority of these cars are just ones that tried bold things or were different in some way, or suffered from marketing failings, or perhaps had one notable flaw, or something, but they’re almost never what I would consider “worst.”
I was thinking about this because I found one of these books – a small, brick-shaped volume called, simply, The World’s Worst Cars, written by Craig Cheetham and published in 2005. Interestingly, Craig has also written The World’s Greatest Cars and I presume he’s hard at work on The World’s Most Averagest Cars, coming soon to a fine bookmonger near you. Anyway, as I was flipping through this book I realized that I would be genuinely happy to drive almost any of the cars presented in the book. They all seem to be interesting cars! Not boring, with memorable technical or styling innovations and ideas; the operating principle for this book seems to be “cars that aren’t boring as all hell.”
So, with that in mind, I had an idea. I feel like these cars don’t deserve the awful treatment they’re given by being stigmatized and placed into books like this, so my plan is every day – keeping in mind how terrible I seem to be about doing things with any regularity – every day I’m going to run a simple program on one of my old-ass computers to pick a random number between 1 and 317 (the number of pages with cars in the book) and I will look at whatever page that random number refers to, and write up a quick redemption of that car.
This feels like a worthwhile plan, a good use of time, energy, and resources. So! Let’s get started! I fired up the Commodore PET, wrote the simple random-number picking program, and here’s what I got:
Okay! A nice low number was picked: 12. I’m just going with the first number the computer spits out, and I’ll only re-run it if it happens to be a repeat. So, let’s see what that car is!
The Aston Martin Lagonda! This one I think is a pretty easy start, because who the hell thinks of a Lagonda as one of the”worst” cars? Was it ahead of its time? Absolutely. Did they always work well? No, no they didn’t. Did they sell well? Well, it was always intended to be an exclusive, limited-production vehicle, and they eventual built and sold 645 of them, which was respectable. But it absolutely is an automotive design icon, a striking example of 1970s straight-edge wedge design pushed to an extreme, and the result is quite striking.
I mean, look at the damn thing! It’s a spaceship, just with nice huge wheels on it. In 1976, this thing really felt like the future. I know the book says it was from 1975, but the Aston Martin Lagonda from 1975 was an entirely different car, save for the 5.3-liter V8 making about 280 horsepower. The radical, wedge-shaped Lagonda was actually the Series 2, introduced in 1976.
Plus, it was a technological pioneer, significantly being the first production car to have an all-digital dashboard. The copy in the book refers to an “LCD” dashboard, but this is not accurate. The Lagonda had two different types of digital dashboards, one that used cathode ray tubes (CRTs) for displays, and a later one that used LED seven-segment numeric displays:
I’ve written about these fascinating dashboards before, especially the CRT-based ones, because they were wildly ahead of their time. The CRT dashboard was the first, so remember, this is 1976, and the CPU itself is only five years old and the personal computer revolution was just on the cusp of starting. The Lagonda dash used a Z80 central processor and three CRT displays with custom graphics and animated elements for each. This video isn’t great, but you can sort of see the CRTs in action here:
Our pal Doug DeMuro’s video about the Lagonda has some better CRT dash footage:
These definitely were finicky and had plenty of problems, which is why Aston Martin switched to the simpler numeric displays for the Series 3 cars (which were either LED-based of vacuum-flourescent displays – I’ve seen both referenced).
Even accepting that these early digital dash displays had plenty of problems, I don’t think we can underestimate the importance of a car that was the first to use an entirely new digital method of instrumentation, one that has become effectively expected on every new car made in the past few years. This is a pioneering car, and that alone should elevate it out of the Sewer of Worst.
Also, are you going to tell me that a car with this many lights, including pop-up lights, is somehow the worst?
No. You’re not.
Our own Autopian co-founder, Beau, happens to love these cars, and has one of the largest collections of Aston Martin Lagondas, including wagon versions and a fascinating one-off prototype two-door coupé version:
The charge that the Lagonda was not a reliable car is absolutely true. But the reasons why it was not reliable aren’t the sort of reasons that would qualify a car to be a Worst, like carelessness or genuinely stupid design or just bad quality. The reasons were far more Icarus-like, as this was a car that reached so far the reality of that 1970s and 1980s world it existed in just couldn’t quite meet the demands this car made. Even so, when these did work well, they were absolutely sublime: fast, comfortable, striking-looking machines that had real presence and brought barges full of drama and occasion anywhere they went.
You pull up in an Aston Martin Lagonda, even to this day, and people will turn to look. And they’ll feel something, something powerful, something akin to wonder and awe. Because this is a car that makes a statement, in design, in technology, and, yes, maybe a lesson in hubris, of reaching just a bit too far, too soon.
Nothing about this car, even its failings – which are significant – adds up to something that would categorize it as the “worst” of anything.
Aston Martin Lagonda, you are redeemed. If you own a copy of The World’s Worst Cars, please tear out page 12.
Now.
My dad bought a brand new one in about 1980. Pale green with dark green leather. It had the LED dashboard which never worked right but was otherwise pretty solid as I remember. I got to meet William Towns on on of the return visits to the factory for another new dashboard. The trunk was useless, the back seat sucked for us three kids, but 150 down the M1 on a regular basis was always fun.
I here for this!
I have read and owed a few superlative books, generally on motorcycles and the gaps in knowledge or what constitutes “best” is redonkulous. These books are the click bait of the printed medium.
Once you work through all the “worst” I say make a compelling arguments against all the “best”..
This is one of the few designs that will give me butterflies, an actual physical sensation. Utterly unique and to me, gorgeous. In the ’90s I used to see a dark red one in Boone, NC, occasionally; once I managed to pull into the bay next to it at a coin-op car wash and say a few awestruck fanboy words to the owner, who wasn’t in the mood to talk.
There’s a non-zero probability your program says to do the Lagonda every day you know
I love this series, and honestly I kinda love these books — well, not kinda. I just do. The book featured in the headline image is one I had growing up, and I actually credit it for helping spark an interest in the unusual and make the jump from “kid who likes supercars” to “adult who really just likes weird and interesting cars”
I probably wouldn’t be an Autopian member if it weren’t for that book!
Also I got to push back on “big wheels” The Lagonda has MASSIVE TIRES and tiny wheels. Truly astoundingly large side wall on that bad boy.
I bet it’s very comfortable.
Some people define a wheel as the rim and tire assembly, just like a wagon wheel includes the steel tire. This is not how I use the terms, but I don’t think it’s incorrect, and I take no issue with Torch using it that way.
Wow the series 1 is a very beautiful design.
I fear for the Series 2 once people like Beau aren’t around, reminds me a lot of the Mk4 Continental convertible and it’s entirely hydraulic run…everything. I was in the market for one a while back and found out that pretty much every one of them is maintained by ONE dude in the midwest who knows how to fix em. So I ended up with a cadillac series 62 of similar vintage instead (miss that guy). A Zilog Z80 isn’t complicated to work with but the amount of chips that must run these that could fail boggles and terrifies my mind. Imagine trying to find the one 8 bit chip that needs to be replaced if something like the gas gauge shorts out?!
That being said, it’s an iconic striking design and I’m here for the weird cars.
You are taking us back to the time of The Big Brick and Mortar Book Store, when anyone could push out something taking an absolute stand about something. Just in time for Christmas.
On the AM, memory reminds me that all the digikal dash wizardry was sourced initially from Texas Instruments, producing several floating target dates for a finished project, but not an actually finished project.
Ok Mr. Torch. You hit that one out of the park on the first swing. The Aston Martin Lagonda is and has always been my first choice for a magnificent
worstcar. Its electronic dashboard was astounding back in the day – and I was a sentient being back in the day, probably more so than today. Also, I love the angular styling, which is odd, because it never seemed to work for me on other wedgie cars of the day. Maybe it’s just the massive size.Again, good call Mr. Torchinsky.
Let’s see what you and the Commodore can do tomorrow!
First off Mr. T., this is an excellent idea! The Lagonda is probably one of the best selections to kick this series off!
Second, now that you’ve set expectations, we will be expecting you to follow through with your promise of one-a-day! We’re watching you!!!
Third, if the Jaguar XJ220 is on the list, I may have to buy some Doc Martins, find this alleged Craig Cheetham, and give him the biggest, swiftest kick in the ass!
The life cycle of a “World’s Worst Cars” book:
-car writer needs to make rent
-car writer slaps together hack list of “worst” cars in a couple hours
-publisher adds it to their list, probably just before Xmas or Father’s Day
-Automatically delivered to all large booksellers
-50% off immediately upon delivery
-My grandmother/auntie/mother/father-in-law remembers that Vetatur Fumare likes cars and buys it for me.
-I smile awkwardly and it ends up in a box on my curb a month later
Rinse and repeat.
The coupe looks like the offspring of a Maserati BiTurbo and a third-gen Monte Carlo. Unsure that I like it, but I don’t hate it.
Since the Biturbo came out in ’81 and the 3rd gen Monty in ’78, the Lagonda is the parent, not the progeny.
Ok, fair. Daddy Lagonda sounds a touch pervy though.
Looking forward to this one. I have that book and I’ve read it cover to cover more than once. I’m not nearly as well-versed in the ins and outs of these cars as Jason and I still caught quite a few errors.
Also, as a disclaimer, I’ve never been much of a book guy. A close friend of the family would buy car books for me any time he say them in the sale bin at the book store. If I have the book, it’s because the book store was desperate to see it go away forever.
Moore. Roger Moore. And unlike those other bums, I’m actually English.
Nope. This one doesn’t spark joy. I agree it was ahead of it’s time, but it’s the British equivalent to a ’80s/’90s American luxury car. It’s typical Malaise era madness-just look at the overhangs.
You wouldn’t think that pop-up headlights could be done wrong, but apparently-with enough money thrown at it, they can be!
Not every stroke of the pen is a masterpiece. Sometimes you have to figure out what doesn’t work the hard way.
Yup, had that book in the toilet reading nook for years. Always thought many of them in there were flat out wrong – the Lagonda being a prime example.
Since nobody’s said it yet, the blue 2-door is drop dead gorgeous. THAT’s the one I want.
Damn skippy.
I also have this book. More than just page 12 are torn out and missing. I still find the Lagonda to be a stunning futuristic looking car, and have always lusted for one. Now if my damm lottery numbers would just get picked I could indulge myself with one and afford to keep it roadworthy!
I’m gonna love this series
Most of the cars that appear in those books are cars I would like to own, and in some cases (Leyland P76 being one example) have owned.
These were flipping brilliant.
I own the book AND one of the cars featured in the book (a Rover). I am so in for this!
OK, you make a very good case for this being a cool and interesting car, and therefore not deserving of a “worst” classification. I am guessing, though, that the ownership experience was not great and there may have been some who bought this car and weren’t ready for the techno-failures that happen when a company pushes the boundaries like this. Maybe they would beg to differ?
Either way, I’d love to see one of these on the road. That design is amazing.
My parents bought me that book ater I said the quiet part out loud once when I found an old renault in a junk yard and said, “It’s so ugly. I gotta have one.”
I’d love to have the majority of the cars in that book. Flaws give us character. Character makes us ourselves.
I have that exact book! I always thought that a lot of the “worst” cars were not bad cars at all.