Motoring – John Vincent

I do find the anti-EV campaigning on social media a bit peculiar. It’s a bit like the arguments for smoking that were made in the 1950s and 60s. Combustion engine vehicles are slowly but surely going to become history. The time for that change is the subject that should be discussed and not whether it’s a good idea or not[1].

One “argument” out there is that adding together all the elements that make-up an electric vehicle there’s a lot of environmental cost in their production. There’s no doubt that nothing is for free. For example, mining lithium and cobalt are not nice in every respect. There’s the concern that demand could quickly eat-up global supply too.

The “arguments” I’ve seen fall apart when considering not only the vehicle production environmental costs but the lifetime costs of an EV when compared with an internal combustion engine vehicle. 20-years of belching out toxic emissions stacks-up. 20-years of using renewable electricity is a far better solution. In theory the potential for recycling valuable materials is high with EVs too. However, we have yet to see if that works successfully in practice.

Other “arguments” look to demean the performance of EV’s when compared to conventional vehicles. Naturally, the time taken to recharge is one of the biggest gripes. For a conventional fuelling at a petrol station a tank can be filled with 500 miles worth of fuel in 15 minutes. For a current EV more preparation, planning and patience are needed to achieve a lesser range.

Some EV performance figures are far superior to conventional air breathing vehicles. Acceleration is one. Powerful electric motors unencumbered by complex mechanical transmission systems react immediately to demands[2]. EVs use power better.

There’s another gripe or moan and that’s about weight. Taking two comparable vehicles, in performance terms, the electric one will be heavier. That’s the technology we have now.

It’s a different kind of weight if that makes any sense. What I mean is that an EV is roughly the same weight whatever the state of the machine. Whereas a vehicle that uses liquid fuel varies in weight according the amount of fuel on-board. Of course, all vehicles vary in weight depending on the payload they carry (goods or passengers or both).

What’s a little difficult to take from the anti-EV lobby is that those who complain about EVs impacting roads, due to their weight, are rarely the same people who express concerns about heavy diesel delivery trucks or Chelsea tractors thundering down residential roads.

There’s one hazard that must be managed for all types of vehicles. A view of a serious fire involving either an EV or a conventional vehicle quickly shows what that threat can do. What we have now less experience dealing with EV fires. They can be severe and difficult to supress.

Regulation is often reactive. The fire threat is real. In this case maybe we do need fire suppression systems in integrated household garages. Multistorey car parks packed full of EVs are going to be a real challenge if a major fire sparks off. That said a fire started with a “diesel-powered vehicle” can be just as challenging[3].

[1] https://www.ft.com/video/95f86c5d-5a94-4e63-bbe8-6cc5ffb59a2b

[2] https://www.caranddriver.com/features/a38887851/why-are-evs-so-quick/

[3] https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-beds-bucks-herts-67077996

In the early 1960s, there was a wonderful appreciation of Italian design. Car manufacturers looked for stylish Latin lines to package their popular models. The public were up for this, and some models became iconic. The BMC[1] Mini is often thought of as Italian in design even though it’s not.

In amongst the popular cars of the 1960s, were some that faded into the background and, although cherished at the time, now don’t star much in classic car magazines or shows. My childhood memories are pepper dashed with images of a standard family saloon. In fact, a luxury version of a car that was a workhorse of the BMC line.

It looked like two cardboard boxes lumped one on top of the other. The “style” was added by understated fins at the rear and a chrome grill that looked like a big carp mouth. Contrary to so much Italian design, aerodynamics was not a consideration. The classic four in-line 1600cc engine had the job of pushing this brick through the air.

For my family the advantage, in the pre-seatbelt era, was wide seats capable of taking parents and four boys without difficulty. Tones of junk could be carried in the boot. The “luxury” came from these seats being robust leather. Sweaty in the summer and cold in the winter. The walnut venerer dashboard and Smiths instruments tried to distinguish the model.

I’m recalling this shiny black Wolseley 16/60[2], because it was so much part of our families’ excursions around Somerset, Dorset, and Wiltshire that it really was part of the family. Sundays were reserved for visiting the uncles, aunties, and cousins. Trips to the Weymouth beach or the pantomime in Bournemouth were great motoring adventures. Studland bay was our best day out. Slowly weaving up and down rolling hills. Peerling out of the windows as the countryside drifted by.

In the early days there was the need to get back to milk the cows or set-off after the work was done. This made the day busier than most. Pre-packing the car for every eventuality we set-off with anticipation and excitement. Although there was less traffic on our country roads in the 60s, there was enough to create jams on hot sunny summer days. My mum and dad must have had fun keeping an eye on squabbling boys, bored with playing I-Spy. Return journeys were easier as we all snoozed.

I can close my eyes and clearly see a couple of those return journeys late at night. After all the excitement of shouting our hearts out: “look behind you” a dozen times my brothers slept until we got close to home. It must have been so tiring motoring through the wind and driving rain to be confronted by a flood about a mile from the farm. River waters spilled over the road. Easily a couple of feet deep.

That’s how it was late in a winter evening. I can distinctly remember my dad, in his best clothes pushing the lumbering Wolseley through a flood with us sitting high and dry. Headlight beams shining on the turbulent water. I never heard a bad word coming from him but I’m sure if I was faced with that situation the air would have turned blue.

The family’s Wolseley 16/60 was a gateway to other worlds. The marque has long since gone. Nevertheless, my memories of that car are etched into every corner of my childhood.

[1] British Motor Corporation (BMC)

[2] https://www.wolseleyownersclub.com/wolseley-cars/farina-design/wolseley-16-60/