Often, when speaking with silly old bastards, I’ll trot out a particular recollection from the Australian Bicentennial Rally (Wheels, May 1988).

Mercedes-Benz entrusted me with a near-priceless 1927 Mercedes-Benz 680S to join about 300 other vintage and veteran cars on the Victorian leg of the rally.

The 680S was the road-going basis for the fabled SS and SSK racers. It weighed 1.9 tonnes, had non-assisted (left-hand drive) steering, a non-synchro gearbox and a supercharger that whined like an air raid siren. Add in a pedal configuration with the throttle in the middle and the brake on the right.

Being a psychologically unstable 25-year-old, I could adapt instantly.

At a stop in the Victorian coastal town of Sale, all the cars were lined up on a sports oval. As a grandfather and grandson approached along the row of upright-grilled, wire-wheeled, fabric-roofed old-timers, I overheard grandpa lamenting how all modern cars look the same.

“But grandpa,” said the kid, “all these cars look the same.”

1

I’ve been guilty of saying the same thing, certainly about those cars, and more recently about the soft shapes of the 1990s-2000s. When I think of peak styling diversity, I go to an age I wasn’t even around for: French cars in the 1950s-60s. Cars like the Panhard Dyna Z, Renault 4CV, the organic Dauphine, the Citroen Ami, the other-worldly DS and the hatchback-hatching Renault 4 were all on the market at the same time.

None looked like its direct competitor. Well, at a stretch, maybe the Dyna and the Dauphine – but then again, while both were 850cc sedans, one was a two-cylinder, front-wheel drive and the other, a rear-engined four-cylinder.

It’s logical to me that ever-tightening emissions and safety legislation, answered by the same computer software, would inexorably force cars towards an optimum, universal and boring-as-batshit outcome. But right now, that doesn’t seem to be the case at all. We may even be in a golden era of automotive styling diversity.

Oh, forget the mechanical side of things, where segment commonality is already rife and ubiquitousness simply accepted among EVs (think: TVs). In the absence of brand-identifying engineering features, styling is becoming all that’s left as a differentiator.

An unfortunate example that first comes to mind is BMW’s overblown, Bucky Beaver grille. BMW, along with Mercedes-Benz, was once an exemplar of design identity. Punch Bucky in the teeth and you’d have to really know your Hofmeister kinks to pick a BMW (especially an SUV) from any number of competitors.

3

However, the current Hyundai Santa Fe (above) blows my mind; it’s brave and out-of-the-box, as was the IONIQ 5 a few years ago, looking like an Atari game console from the 1980s. Neither of these siblings looks at all like the other – nor the even weirder IONIQ 6.

The Land Rover Defender (below) introduced a new language that’s equal parts aggressive and utilitarian. Sibling Range Rover’s coachbuilt curves seduce like vintage silverware. Very different from both are Toyota’s LandCruiser and Prado, which give me a modular-storage-solution vibe that also speaks of comfortable practicality.

My great mate Robert Cumberford, who’ll be turning 90 about the time you read this, kicked off his automotive design career under Harley Earl at General Motors in 1954. We have regular, rambling discussions about cars, so I ran my observation past him. He mostly disagreed.

1

“At any given time, most cars will look like each other,” he said. “Competitors look more like each other than their own ancestors. That’s down to legislation, fashion, tooling technologies … and fear on the part of (manufacturers’) directors, who often are just assholes climbing the ladder.”

Tesla, he pointed out, had a whole new EV platform and no emotional baggage. But all we got was “aggressively anonymous”.

If we are in a bit of a golden era, Robert reckons it’s not going to last. “Designers are now trying to make sure that the envelope can house EV, hybrid and ICE power,” Robert said. “You have an each-way bet, a sort of generic look that can accommodate all the technical solutions.”

This article originally appeared in the August 2025 issue of Wheels magazine. Subscribe here and gain access to 12 issues for $109 plus online access to every Wheels issue since 1953.