“A camel is a horse designed by a committee”
Anyone in the creative profession will fully understand that famous idiom. Most designers have experienced the pain of seeing one of their creations mercilessly altered by vice presidents and focus groups into something far less than their original vision. Typically, it’s just something everyone in the field understands and rolls with. In a job interview, if you show a prospective employer your portfolio of initial concepts for something that was produced at a less-than-stellar standard, they’ll typically accept that the end result was not your fault. Most important, you won’t go to your grave with epitaphs worldwide stating that you were “the designer of the world’s worst object.”
However, not all creative people are so lucky. Recently, English car designer Harris Mann passed away at the age of 85, and his obituary from many news sources did in fact claim his responsibility for a number of products dubbed “Ugliest Car Ever” or “Worst Motor Vehicle in History.” At least most of these stories admitted to the sad fact that had he been working in France, Italy, or likely any place other than British Leyland that the production versions of his most maligned designs, particularly the Austin Allegro and Triumph TR7, would have turned out far better than they did.
We’re late at the Autopian in giving Mann an obituary ourselves, so we’ll explore a bit of his work and see if we can imagine an alternate reality where his original designs, or at least something similar, came closer to fruition. The guy deserves that, doesn’t he?
The Mann Himself
Harris Mann started his design career at, of all things, a UK bus company before eventually joining Ford in time to contribute to products like the first “dogbone faced” Escort and Capri that are almost universally accepted as “cool” cars. Mann’s boss at the time, Roy Haynes, left Ford for what was then called BMC and persuaded the young designer to join him. Initially Harris worked on the Morris Marina, a car that eventually gained a poor reputation but typically not for its rather harmless styling. When Haynes eventually left the company in 1970, Mann moved up to lead of design at what had then become British Leyland.
During his tenure at the infamous firm, Mann was involved with a number of high-profile projects that were intended to change the course of the ailing giant. In virtually every case, the good intentions of the designs were somehow twisted or altered in such a way as to hinder the greater success they might have had. Let’s take a look at those two well-known, often-crapped-upon examples of his work and try to change the course of history a bit.
Austin Allegro
How, exactly, would a horse be turned into a camel by group decision making? Well, some higher-up demands a larger on-board water capacity, which requires the big hump on the back, while another insists on better visibility through a long, ungainly neck. The design gets killed by a bunch of tiny decisions that ultimately ruin what was a sound concept. [Ed Note: At Chrysler, one Jeep Wrangler JL engineer called it “Death By A Thousand Cuts.” -DT]. Harris Mann’s Allegro is probably the ultimate group design input “camel” ever in the history of the automobile.
The proof is in this initial Mann sketch from the late sixties of his vision for Austin’s new small car to replace their current “bigger Mini” 1100/1300 series. Looking a bit like a sleeker Alfa Romeo Alfasud or the Volkswagen Scirocco that wasn’t released for another half decade, the rather slick coupe in this rendering has “European Car Of The Year” written all over it. If produced this way, it certainly would not have ever been a contender for an “Ugly Car” list. So, what the hell happened?
According to excerpts from a Mann interview in 2002 shown on aronline, it was the “camel” syndrome:
‘We wanted to make a far more modern version of the 1100/1300, keeping the long, sleek look. Then a lot of other things affected it. A heater was developed at astronomical cost which was very deep. That had to go in. Then we had to put in the E-Series engine, which was more suitable for putting in a Leyland truck.’
…the whole car gained in height. That made it look shorter and stumpier. Thicker seats were added inside, which cut down on interior space. It was getting bulkier inside and out, and lost the original sleekness. That was what happened unfortunately.’
Indeed, a few little changes affect everything. Insist on a firewall and engine that are a few inches too tall and your wedge-shaped car turns into a lump of coal. It didn’t help that Leyland exaggerated the gentle curves of the sketched car since engineers wanted to incorporate developments they had made in body strength and packaging in a concept called the “Barrel Car”; that name alone tells you that “sleek” is not going to be the result of their changes.
Let’s do Harris Mann a solid and imagine what an Allegro that matched his vision might have looked like. Forget that stupid heater, screw the “barrel car” bulbous curves, and stick with the smaller A-series engine. You can see that the sum of all these seemingly minor changes dramatically alters the car. I also really pumped up the “wedge” shape that I somehow think Harris would have wanted to do by the time of the Allegro’s introduction since, at that point, his next creations (the TR7 and much-better-resolved Leyland Princess series) were all ‘bout that rake.
The animation below shows it pretty plainly:
Wait, why are there giant bumpers and a US license plate on the car in the sketch? Why not? The styling alterations have turned the All-Agro into a Alleg-Scirocco. Remember, the Big Three were offering the Pinto and the Chevette as subcompact choices at the time, so anything would be more appealing than that (if it would stay running, of course, and that’s a big “if”).
Strangely enough, the Allegro did not offer a hatchback which competitors like the VW Golf and Renualt 5 (Le Car) had by the time of the Leyland car’s launch in 1973; we’d certainly want to add that. What about the need for a larger engine option that wasn’t some big boat anchor like the E-series? An extreme alternate reality might involve Honda, the company that less than a decade later partnered with BL to save their ass with an English-built Civic called the Triumph Acclaim.
Honda could have provided the larger motors, and later had the UK manufacture the motors themselves as with the Acclaim. Combined with the styling changes, would that have been a game changer for the big UK firm? One would hope so, but if the labor strikes and quality issues of 1970s Leyland were still there, we’d probably still have a car like the actual Allegro where the rear window could pop out if you jacked it up in the wrong place. A pity, but at least it might have looked better, and our man Mr. Mann could have held his head up higher.
Triumph TR7
Here’s another truly important design idiom: a concept that’s difficult to translate to production will almost certainly not translate to production well. It’s quite possible that we’re seeing that today with the Cybertruck. Leyland seems to have made this mistake with a certain Triumph.
However, when looking to replace some of their very aging sports cars in the seventies, there is at least one thing that British Leyland did right: they chose to aim the design directly at their biggest market, the United States. The idea of a modern looking but technically rather simple targa-topped sports car was determined to be the winning formula against competitors such as the Datsun 240Z and Porsche 914. Mann was of course tasked with the styling, and his initial sketches shows a dramatic wedge similar to something Bertone might have done (and in fact did sort of do with the Runabout concept that became the Fiat X1/9). You can see below that the wedge is accentuated by a sharp, prominent character line that runs from the bottom of the front wheel arch to sweep over the back fender.
To replicate this concept faithfully on a production car would require a manufacturer that put design above all else and refused to make compromises for the sake of economy. You might already know this, but British Leyland was most certainly not such a firm.
The production TR7 did have fans, and the car hit the target American market to become the best-selling Triumph TR sports car model of all time. The low nose and design of the entire front end of the car was generally well received, with the possible exception of the pop-up headlight design that looked to many like lids for gnomes’ toilets. Everything between the neat “kamm” tail and theA-pillar, however, became the brunt of much criticism.
Here’s the famous US commercial once again; the guy in the igloo will have a hard time starting that thing tomorrow morning:
We can’t say for certain, but the translation of Mann’s notchbacked styling likely didn’t really come off exactly as he’d planned. The targa roof that would have suited this design rather well never came to fruition, and the ribbed trim detail that Harris had indicated on his drawings ended up as black plastic trims that looked a bit like BL had accidentally put speakers on the outside of the car. Also, the lower body “sweep” from the sketch has been reduced to a tiny depression that’s far too shallow to bring to life the cut on the original rendering. If you haven’t seen the initial sketch, you might wonder why this drooping shape is there in the first place. One would surmise that Harris should have changed course when he realized that his design would ultimately be so watered down (and not be an open car at all), but likely the die was cast at that point.
I personally like the quirkiness of the TR7, but then my dream car is a 1969 Lamborghini Espada in the metallic-Kermit-Frog green so you need to take my opinions with a grain of salt. Still, even if the notchback of the TR7 appealed to you, it’s unquestionably a divisive styling element that alienated a big chunk of potential buyers. The issue with the roof becomes readily apparent when you do something similar to the beloved early RX-7:
The angled glass back of the RX-7 seems to perfectly complement the wedge nose. Worse than that, the fastback hatch of the RX-7 allows for a much larger cargo area and even space for tiny rear seat in non-US markets. My guess that such changes to the Triumph (which pre-dated the Mazda sports car by four years) would have increased its popularity immensely.
Miniscule seats in the back of a TR7 might seem like a silly thing, but as a person who was about seven when this car debuted, I would have gladly ridden in back (and my parents would have been able to consider such a car, if my dad didn’t already know about Lucas electrical systems).
I fully understand what Harris was doing with the side sweep, but the car honestly does look less controversial with the sweep following a line more parallel with the hood (or bonnet, sorry). A sharper cut line above the rocker panel connects the detent above the rear bumper and below the front bumper, and also serves to break up the thick side profile of the body. I am sure that there is a reason for the funny looking pop-up light cut lines, but a far smoother hood with cleaner-closing lamps would be a final detail to really improve the car.
Yes, I’m well aware that Triumph attempted to make a larger 2+2 version of the TR7 called the Lynx, with a hatchback and different rear end treatment. BL’s woes killed its chances for production. Honestly, this thing is a bit heavy looking in back. It’s certainly no longer even remotely a sports car yet it doesn’t have the panache of larger sports coupes like the Ford Capri or Opel Manta that it was supposed to compete with.
One more thing- why couldn’t BL have offered the Rover V8 engine right at the beginning of the TR7’s life instead of throwing it in when the car (and the company) was in the death throes? A small three-and-a-half liter V8 in a mid-seventies affordable sports car? Even with Leyland quality, many would consider it. Hell, the small block V8 in the concurrent Chevy Monza required you to drop the motor to change the rear spark plugs so it isn’t like the competition had it all wrapped up, right?
The Mann Lives On
In reality, the downward spiral of British Leyland was likely going to happen regardless of the design of the cars. Let’s face it: there are few better examples of outstanding transportation design than something like a Jaguar XJ6 or an original Mini, but the poor execution couldn’t save them or the auto industry of Old Blighty as a whole. Still, we need to recognize the talents of the people at BL that really tried. If nothing else, while pouring one out for Mann, in recent months the general public got to hear more of the truth behind the wrongs done to his creations by a careless corporate conglomerate.
We can only hope that wherever Harris is now in the great beyond, he is designing wedge-shaped cars to be developed by engineers and executives from Toyota.
The Triumph TR7’s Taillights Were Way More Influential Than You Think – The Autopian
Let’s Figure Out The Best ‘Worst Car’ From Those Stupid Lists Of ‘Worst Cars’ – The Autopian
I think you cheated a bit by changing the All-aggro to a two door. Two doors always look better on a short car.
I can imagine that there are a lot of designers who cry when their beautiful concept becomes a clumsy production model. BL seemed to be really bad for this but most designers don’t have the authority of a Bill Mitchell or Harley Earle to stop their designs being ruined by bean counters.
The classic BL beancounter tom-fuckery was when the Austin Maxi had to use the doors from the much larger 1800, which completely ruined the look of the car.
Interesting to see that the front of the Allegro looked dumpy and goofy even in concept form. It was not good looking.
The TR7’s tail lights look like they were cynically re-purposed from a fiberglass caravan or delivery vehicle and not part of any design conversation whatsoever.
I have to be blunt and say i hate the TR7 concept sketch.It’s a mixture of awesome and embarrassing but definitely has more of the latter.
Thank God they changed things.
The Allegro on the other hand,they genuinely ruined
Honestly I don’t hate the Allegro, for some reason I think it turned out looking ok. I think people hate it more for what it stood for. As for TR7 and the rest, honestly, both the sketches and final versions kind of suck. Haven’t aged well at all, and not much there to begin with.
That animation really shows the change well, and I’d like to see more morphing like this when discussing design changes. Makes it much more understandable to me.
The only change you made to the TR7 that I agree with is the rear glass. Yes, it needs that sloping glass window to look truly sleek. Otherwise, the swoopy line on the side is perfectly fine and actually gives the car a lot of character that sets it apart from other cars of the time. The grille trim on the rear pillars is also just what looked sci-fi and cool in the 70s, so there’s no reason to get rid of it, all it really needed was that fastback roofline.
I think one of the things that really works to help with the visuals of the car, and something you didn’t change, is the upward sweep of the rear bumper line. It’s what the Lynx is missing and why it makes it look bigger than it is. I think that if the shoulder of the car was dropped, making the window extend below the bottom of the windshield, it would help with the strangeness of the notchback. There’s an unspoken rule that in a two door design the middle of the B-pillar must be placed directly over the rear axle centerline for the proportions to work (this rule does occasionally get broken, most commonly with mid-engine cars like the Lotus Elise). However with the TR7 the B-pillar center line ends slightly ahead of the rear axle centerline, a problem shared with the original sketches as well. This makes the rear look taller and shorter and makes the entire car look taller. If you dropped the shoulder and moved the B-pillar back a bit it would solve almost all the visual issues of the original design.
My dad had a TR7, it was slow and unreliable. the guy in town with the TR8 could not go far without overheating, so that is probably why those were too little too late.
I owned a Toyota MR2 MK1 for a couple of wonderful years and people would ask if it was a TR7. I’d say “no”. Great story!!!!!!!!!!
Any day that you get to tell people you don’t own a TR7 is a good day.
I, um, I like my Allegro.
You still have one? I’m impressed! Last one I saw was a white Vanden Plas rotting away at the back of a small second hand car dealership about twenty years ago. I had one for a while. It wasn’t a very good one.
I drove mine to work this morning and remain optimistic about driving it home again this evening. I also rally [sic] it from time to time:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tdjA7b-KLm8&t=425s
It’s in America?!?! That’s even more impressive. Wow.
Thanks, although I can’t take credit for bringing it here. A friend of mine went through a British car phase several years ago and brought over (not in this order) an MG Metro 1300, an Austin Maestro VP, this Allegro, an Allegro estate, a Princess, and I think maybe one or two others that I’m forgetting. I ended up with the first three on that list after he’d had his fun with them. I still have the Maestro and the Allegro and would love to track down the other Allegro, which was last seen a few years ago sitting somewhat forlornly in someone’s driveway in Bremerton, WA (I’m in Seattle) but I’ve never been able to find out the address or even the general part of town in which it was spotted.
I’m much more of a Michelotti fan.
The design for the Triumph Spitfire convertible yielded a 0.39 Cd, according to “Streamlining and Car Aerodynamics” by Jan Norbye. For its time period, this was among the most slippery cars available, AND it had the penalty of being a convertible working against that feature. The GT4 race cars could exceed 130 mph on a stock Spitfire engine making something around 75 horsepower, which the not-as-impressive GT6 body was based upon, also designed by Michelotti. If anything, he made Triumph successful in its early years.
The one-off Renault design of his also inspired the Alpine A110.
This is one of the reasons why I come here – your knowledge of applied aerodynamics always enlightens me!
And I’ve always loved the Spitfire. It feels, I dunno, more resolute? than its MG competition.
I will join the chorus of TR-7 lovers.
I guess we’re a bunch of weirdos here.
No! None of you are! As I said in the article, I actually like the overall looks; I was only proposing a possibility for if they wanted to entice philistines that can’t accept more avant garde design.
the TR7 was mostly just the stodgy UK sports car groups last gasp at relevancy by aping the at that time standard shape and design cues of the “supercar” of the 70’s.
I remember that commercial from when it was actually on TV, and it made me fall in love with the TR7. It’s one of the most beautiful cars you’ll ever see on the back of a trailer.
Hey, man, I proudly let my freak flag fly.
The only good Triumph designs were Michelotti designs. Fight me.
I certainly like the TR4 over the later TR6, even before they killed it with the 5MPH ram bars.
I’ve always been a fan of the TR7. I think it still looks good today. Definitely not gonna mistake it for anything else . Also, an Opel Manta mention. That was the chef’s kiss for me .
I love the TR-7, it’s so different than anything else you see on the road (late 90’s, early 2000’s, SW Michigan) I had people ask if it was a kit. BTW, convertible, never driven a hardtop TR-7
I’ve always like the TR7. I think the reworking just makes it look anonymous.
The Allegro was BL management at its worst. I would say the concept sketches look more like a Princess than a Scirocco. The Princess was a decent looking car and deserved better.
I never saw anything to dislike about the TR7, although the convertible looks better without the slightly awkward roof line. Regarding TR7 should have beens, a Sprint version with the 16V Dolomite Sprint engine should have been a production car rather than a handful of racers.
I had the one down from the princess, the Ambassador. Mine was avocado green with turbine wheels and a tan velour interior. It sometimes wouldn’t start, and sometimes wouldn’t stop, depending on how it felt that day (we called it ‘the Ambastador’). It was roomy and comfortable though. And splendidly green.
That sounds like peak 70s British Leyland. Good when it worked but broke often and rusted almost as quickly as a Lancia Beta.
I thought the TR7 was good looking from the get go, and I still do.
The Allegro treatment is definitely an improvement.
The TR7, however, Eh, you just designed a British 924. I loved the TR7 when it came out and still love it now. Loved it enough that my dad even stopped by a dealer to pick up a brochure for me. Also, the eventual ragtop version corrected your disliked B-pillar speaker grills. Something that probably wouldn’t have happened with your fastback version due to BL’s limited budgets.
I actually think the Allegro looks decent-ish with the quad round headlamp treatment some of them got, still not great, but not hugely offensive either.
They did manage to sell 642,000 of the things, which certainly wasn’t to expectations, but was a respectable number considering that it’s appearance was probably the weakest of the many headwinds against it and BL in general during the ’70s
Agreed, I never understood the hate. By no means wonderful styling, but not that bad.
And the estate was actually somewhat cool-looking.
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/00/4f/25/004f2584cc3fa1a3ed5c86168b5fd409.jpg
Nice tomato!
Here me out: change the B-pillar of the TR-7 coupe into a C-Pillar and make it a shooting-brake.
Not only do designs get butchered by production decisions like this, but lets be honest, EVERYTHING looks better in drawings. Some of the ugliest weirdest houses built from post-war through the 70’s, if you look at water color renderings of those same shitboxes, they look amazing! I used to drool over every stupid item in the Duluth Trading Company catalog, only to be disappointed when the real thing showed up looking nothing like the drawing and not living up to the description in any way shape or form. Now that it’s just photos like every other stupid catalog, I just throw the dumb thing out.
In the late ’80s, that was THE J. Peterman catalog thing (as later brilliantly satirized on Seinfeld) – beautiful color drawings, romantic stories involving vintage celebrities, promises of effortless style…to get you to buy a $20 t-shirt. It was always a minor bit of aspirational cool when it arrived in the mailbox.
I look online from time to time still, and think, just for a moment, that a ridiculous ankle-length cowboy duster might be just the ticket to make my life more interesting…damn you Peterman!!
Big box retail “power centers”, shopping centers, and outparcel “pad site” retail buildings are like that – in renderings, they’ll look like sleek California Mid Century modern things with leafy landscaping, then when they’re finished, they’re just another bland beige box of fake stucco (fucco)
My hatred of fake stucco runs deep, but from this day forward I shall only refer to it as fucco!
That TR-7 with the rear hatch looks a little like a Lamborghini to me somehow, like it has some lines from a Bishop favorite, the Silhouette.
There’s a story that Giorgetto Guigaro first saw a TR7 at the Geneva motor show. At first he said nothing. As he walked around it to take in the styling he said “Oh My God! They did it on this side too!”
I was about to put that one in there but I couldn’t find enough to totally verify it. Hey, he did put his name on a Marina he didn’t redesign.
Mann bites dog.