I recently saw a MotorTrend headline that had me thinking a lot about the constant focus on a car’s quickness. It read “The Lamborghini Temerario Is the Quickest Gas Car We’ve Ever Tested,” and I immediately focused on one word: gas.
MotorTrend clearly had to emphasize gas in this instance, since electric vehicles are much quicker. The 907-horsepower Temerario hits 60 miles per hour in 2.2 seconds, which is incredible. But even MotorTrend points out that some of the lamest, most unsassuming EVs that people use on their miserable morning commutes can beat it. The Tesla Model S Plaid, the Lucid Air Sapphire… Like sure, car people know that the Model S Plaid is a potential track weapon, but if you stare at the Model S Plaid and then the Temerario, one of them looks clearly more dramatic, aerodynamic, and aggressive. And only one of them is a supercar.
A beautifully designed Italian supercar won’t reach 60 mph as quickly as a bland electric sedan. At this point, I don’t think we should even care about a car’s quickness at all because it really means nothing.
Do you want your 0-60 .4 seconds faster or actually fun?
MotorTrend’s subhead brought up the point that many of you would argue: “An EV might get you to the end of the quarter mile slightly quicker, but it won’t deliver the same thrills as the Temerario’s 10,250-rpm V8.”
Yes, the experiences are completely different. A silent, smooth, soulless rush to 60 mph in the Model S Plaid is clearly a worse experience than the screaming, adrenaline-inducing, visceral charge of the Temerario. That is undeniable to anyone (except maybe the EV owners subreddit or something). Most of us would take the raw and almost sexual 2.2-second rush inside the Temarario to the 1.89-second lurch of the Lucid Air Sapphire, even knowing you’d “lose” this drag race.
But I think this proves my point even more: the quickness of a car no longer matters. If you would sit in a “slower” car because the overall experience is just that much more enthralling, the exact quickness as a measurement is irrelevant. As EV manufacturers continue to make soccer-mom cars quicker and quicker and quicker (for some reason), this performance spec becomes all the more meaningless to anyone who loves driving. It’s not like you’d read a book just because the author made it longer. You read a book because the actual words within it are interesting and the story touches your soul.
I have no doubt in my mind that you wouldn’t turn down a beautifully designed car with incredible handling and steering response and an almost orchestra-worthy engine sound if the seller said: “I do have to warn you, this car’s 0-60 is 4 seconds.” If that did stop you, I assume you are not old enough to drive anyway.
One time, I was getting photographs taken of my Lotus Elise and my partner’s Ford Mustang GT. A group of young guys came over and were really intrigued by my car, but the questions were all about its speed and horsepower. I could tell they were disappointed to hear that the Elise has under 200 horsepower. But that’s how I knew they were not real car enthusiasts. Nobody is getting an Elise for its horsepower. Nobody is debating its 0-60 times.
I’m not saying there isn’t a time and place (or car) for that. If you want to bring your car to a drag strip, sure. But if you just want a cool, fun car that offers an amazing driving experience and makes you smile every weekend, you are not worried about the car’s exact quickness stats. You’re just not. And I’m not alone in thinking this.
A Reddit thread asked car enthusiasts if they ever got FOMO thinking about how cars are getting quicker and quicker over time. A since-deleted account answered:
I’ve actually gone the opposite direction because of it.
Mustangs got me into cars. I was obsessed with building a Mustang. I didn’t care what year or generation. I just wanted a fast car. I saved all my money starting at age 16. Spent years dreaming about buying cars I’d see on craigslist. Finally bought a foxbody at 19. My dad and I hopped it up to about 300hp and I thought it was hot s***.
This was when the S197 Mustang was out and I thought it was awesome that my car was faster than a brand new Mustang GT.
And then in a year or two the 5.0 came out and my car was suddenly ‘slow’ by comparison.
Ever since then I’ve focused on whether or not a car is fun, regardless of how fast it is. I still own my mustang and it’s still fun because I can appreciate it for what it is.
Now I’m building a Honda that will run 14’s and I’m really excited about it.
Other comments focused on the feeling of “rowing through gears” and the disappearing “raw” feeling of drivers’ cars. Some also pointed out that 600 horsepower doesn’t mean much when you are trapped behind a grandma donig 30 on an on-ramp. Like, yeah, how often are you fully sending your Porsche 911 or Temerario? If you’re not a track, probably almost never. You probably haven’t even felt your car’s true 0-60 mph quickness claim. I know I haven’t. There has never been a need to push my cars that hard, now that I think about it.
Maybe it’s due to that nostalgic feeling of missing those all-around performance cars from our childhood – the ones that made you excited at any speed – or maybe it’s truly due to the EV killing that excitement. Another thread on Reddit had a guy saying: “I think once EVs gapped V8s, 0-60 became less of a talking point. For example, the Hellcat; they used to talk about 0-60, now they talk about the sound and the feeling. Because it’s ‘only’ as [quick] as a Model 3 Performance.”
Truly. In the EV’s desperate race to hit the fastest 0-60 possible, it actually killed the hype around this stat completely. Drivers would rather focus on things that the EV can’t kill, like a car’s soul.
