I THINK I'LL TRY DEFYING GRAVITY [413]

When I say “where’s my flying car?”, I am saying “where is our vision of the future?

Fantasies of flying cars have abounded for as love as cars have been driven across the ground. They became such a cliché about frivolous predictions of our future that the film “Back to the Future” ended with a flying DeLorean as a joke, with the sequels’ sensible predictions about sky-high motorways and hovercar conversion kits making the far-off future of 2015 more realistic.

Having now passed that future, our fantasies have become more grounded, and more backward-looking than we may like. Mastering cars that no longer use an internal combustion engine, or a driver to drive them where possible, have become real-life practical concerns ahead of flying cars, and in doing so are using past glories to make this future appeal to us.

Volkswagen, in its aim to produce only electric cars in Europe from 2033, has produced a concept car named the “ID. GTI”, which they hope to enter production by 2027. Evoking the famous VW Golf GTi, which pioneering the sporty small “hot hatch” car class, it intends to replicate the driving dynamics of its predecessors to the letter. From VW’s press release, by integrating the powertrain to the car’s control system, “for the first time, it is therefore possible to adjust the drive system, running gear, steering, sound experience and even the simulated shift points in the style of one of the historical GTI models – such as the Golf GTI I from 1976, the first Golf GTI II 16V from 1986 or the legendary Golf GTI IV ‘25 years of GTI’ from 2001. This makes the ID. GTI Concept a highly dynamic time machine.”

This sounds like using cutting-edge technology to play old computer games for their nostalgia value. If VW can do this, what is stopping them from emulating any car they like, or you want? With the ID. GTI based on another concept car that is designed to be more affordable, the ID. 2all, there is nothing to prevent that car from being able to mimic an original post-war Beetle, or a Karmann-Ghia, Scirocco, Hillman Avenger, Bentley Continental, or a Lincoln Continental: each car could become a profile to pay and download, the correct dials and switches coming up on the touch-video dashboard.

Despite this, some people are still looking forward: Alef Automotive, a California-based company, has received certification from the US Federal Aviation Administration, but not yet from its road-going equivalent, to continue testing its Model A, a car with vertical take-off and landing capability, a flying range of up to 110 miles, and an estimated delivery date of 2025. The company’s founders have worked on the vehicle since 2015, having been inspired by what they saw in “Back to the Future Part II”. Prices start from $300,000.

GONNA DRIVE BACK DOWN WHERE YOU ONCE BELONGED [9]

Right now, fewer than three hundred DeLorean DMC-12 cars remain on Britain’s roads, out of a total of 8,583 made in Belfast from 1981 to 1983. However, with its gull-wing doors and stainless steel finish, and its place in popular culture secured as the mobile time machine in the “Back to the Future” films, the car inspires businesses and fan clubs to carry on servicing it, and import them from the United States, with a US company beginning to make new cars using leftover parts from Belfast.

Meanwhile, the Austin Ambassador (1982-84), an update of the wedge-shaped Princess range of 1975, that used parts borrowed from other cars, was made as a stop-gap until the Austin Montego was ready. According to howmanyleft.co.uk, out of 43,427 cars sold in the UK, there are SEVENTEEN left, including those registered as off the road.

SEVENTEEN?!

The Ambassador holds a strong place in my childhood, filled with images of “Back to the Future”. With rakish lines that still feel modern, the future was meant to look like this but, unfortunately, the DeLorean did the better job. We had a second-hand, silver 1.7 litre model, looking to me like a family-sized time machine, with a spongy red interior, ripe for being thrown up on by a small child.

We had our Ambassador until it was scrapped, due to familiar complaints of rust and poor build quality from British Leyland, the byword for industrial disputes in the 1970s and 80s. Even when they still worked, they weren’t made desirable enough – manual gearboxes only went up to four gears, and higher-equipped models still didn’t come with a rev counter, so people who could afford not to listen to their engine had to carry on as before.

The last Ambassador, given to the British Motor Industry Heritage Trust, was sold at auction in 2003, to make space for other cars. It was later bought out of storage by a club of enthusiasts, determined to make a symbol of a bad time in the British car industry worth remembering, on its own terms.

Why care? Ask the blobfish. As the general mascot of the Ugly Animal Preservation Society, and winner of a 2013 contest for the ugliest animal on Earth 2013, this endangered species depends on humanity harnessing the power of irony to save it. Turning the blobfish’s ugliness into an advantage highlights how we tend to save only the cutest species, even if the reproductive powers of some, like the Giant Panda, make that job very difficult.

It is not morally acceptable to pick and choose which animals should be saved - you do it because you should, and because you don’t want to be the one that has to say there are none left. Likewise, for those that still enjoy remembering what the British car industry used to make, the Austin Ambassador deserves to be preserved as much as the DeLorean – in fact, with the Ambassador being the much rarer car, doesn’t that make it more desirable now?