British Leyland—From Triumph to Tragedy

Petrol, Politics and Power

Lance Cole

• Publisher: Pen & Sword Transport
• Year: 2021
• ISBN:
  9781526748249
• Topic: Technology & Engineering
• Subtopic: Automotive Transportation & Engineering
• Index: Technology & Engineering

A history of the British automotive manufacturer and an analysis of what went wrong. What really happened at British Leyland (BL)? Was it 'just' the cars, or were other factors vital to the story? Who really was to blame for BL and MG Rover's death? The 'truth' about BL is deeper than its cars – were ultra- Left-wing plots to topple BL and British society real? Did secret deals and political intrigue really exist? Was it Labour or Conservative powers who 'killed' BL, or was it BL itself? How was it that BL's design genius was hobbled? Author Lance Cole lifts the bonnet on BL and presents a forensic yet easy to read new analysis in a story of BL, its cars, and the era of their motoring as powers on the political Left and Right waged war, sometimes even with themselves. Here is a book about cars and more, a conversation on all things BL: this is a new account of a classic British story told across a trail of evidence in a British industrial and political drama. Many mistakes made BL, but some of the cars were superb, the designs of genius, the engineering excellent; it is just that we have either forgotten, or been brainwashed into believing the worst. In a BL book like no other, written by a classic car fanatic with a background in industrial design, automotive, and wider journalism, this story lifts the lid on BL's cars and more. The author also adds inside knowledge from time working in the motor industry. Lance Cole tells the deeper BL story across the era of its greatest successes and its biggest failures. "An important and overdue book, well researched which will find a welcome place on the shelves of transport academics and motoring aficionados alike." — The Journal of the Road Transport History Association "Cole's engaging and informal writing style makes things very readable and helps us untangle a lot of the more complex shenanigans that went on. With fifty colour and fifty monochrome pictures, it's well-illustrated too. Thoroughly recommended for its astute insight whether you're a BL fan or not." — Car Mechanics

1

Questions

A brief personal pontification upon to BL or not BL

I once worked for BL’s mutation, the Austin Rover Group (ARG) or better known as Austin Rover (AR) and that only cemented my frustration at the cars of BL legacy. Arg indeed.

Checking a Montego for final acceptance, I noticed it had been built with basic L trim check-patterned rear seat trim fabric and with totally different HLS velour trim on the two front seats! The supervisor seemed unmoved. ‘Oh,’ came the disinterested response as if such incompetence was the norm. It was sent off to the dealer and he could sort it out there. There was also an orangey red Metro with beige stripes applied on one side and grey stripes along the other, both cars being straight off the production line.

I saw bodyshells arriving from Pressed Steel Swindon on a rain-soaked transporter. I also saw raw bodyshells sitting outside in the rain before being taken into the factory. I saw tinted glass fitted in one window and not in another in the same Jaguar. Mixed-up wheels and wheel trims, missing bits, specification anomalies, bare metal showing through a new Jaguar’s paint, poor rust proofing, glue smeared in cabins, all was ‘normal’. And why would electronically governed, brand new Maestros utterly refuse to fire-up properly, run cleanly, or stay in tune?

Possibly the biggest blunder I saw was a new Maestro with base model steel bumpers (in black) at the front, and the upper range car’s full-width, painted thermoplastic full bumper valance panel at the rear! Such imbecility was impossible, surely?

Why did the plastic spoilers on Rover 827 Vitesses wilt and bend? Why did the Rover Sterling interior plastics change colour after exposure to the sun, to create a mix and match quilt of rioting hues across the dashboard?

Why did Jaguars of the 1980s eat wheel bearings and dashboards? What was wrong with the electrics – always? Why did BL’s Jaguar paint seem so thin? I saw new XJ6s that seemed to only have one layer of paint applied, with such thin paint not just on the sills, but on the roof too! Often there were swathes of primer or raw metal showing through. How did these escape from the factory?

Why did bits fall off so many of our BL cars? Why did my Rover SD1 fail every month?

I nearly caused a mass walk-out when I carried a drawing from one office to the factory floor. A union rep stopped me and asked if I was a member and had the drawing been stamped and approved? I was not a union member. He exploded and shouted, ‘All out!’ then began to rant about rights and exploitation. Oh, and was I a management stooge, because I sounded ‘posh’? His reaction was irrational and not proportional. This is how bad things had got on the factory floor. It was, it seems, a tribal war.

Back in the 1990s, I drove a Honda-based Rover 827 Vitesse for a while; I also ran the ‘Sterling’ version. I enjoyed these cars but they were a it seems a bit of a con-trick. How brilliant their Honda 2.7 litre engines were (the 2.5 was weaker), how brilliant their Rover-designed interiors, yet how appalling were their fittings, build quality and suspension damping – except the revised Vitesse. What didn’t fade, fell off, and the electrics – please. The 827 drove though, and drove well; I remember a wonderful drive through the west highlands of Scotland in the 827 Vitesse, the creamy, cammy 2.7 multi-valve engine screaming and the front end turning-in with precision on wet bends. But of course, in time, it all went awry. Oh, and the rear spoiler wilted and went limp.

The Sterling was Atlantic Blue – a lovely deep cobalt hue. I loved its interior and fascia design, but after one hot summer, all the mouldings in the front cabin and fascia had changed colour – but independently. The dash top coaming was now green not grey! It broke down, just as Sterlings did all over America, thus invalidating the great British car reputation very quickly indeed.

‘Export or die’ ran the old Donald Stokes’ mantra. Death soon came.

These so-called Rovers looked good when new, but soon faded, and what was it about their structures that worried me – huge apertures for the windscreen, and cut-way doors, a very low front, thin panels, and long A-pillars? The bulkhead or firewall seemed low, the footwells so shallow. Where did these design traits come from? A lack of depth at the front of the car really worried me – it meant that there was less metal to crush and absorb impact, and less rigidity to resist intrusion. The thoughts lay dormant until I saw the ADAC, EuroNCAP, IIHS, crash test results for the then Honda Accord/Rover 600, Honda Legend, and the Civic – the cars of Honda-Rover basis.

The Germans testers criticised the original Legend for its poor impact performance but contrary to such findings, Honda said there was no risk of serious injury. EuroNCAP noted Rover 600’s serious cabin intrusion. In America, the Insurance

Institute of Highway Safety (IIHS) gave the 1995 Honda Accord only an ‘acceptable’ rating due to its risk of leg injuries stemming from front footwell collapse and intrusion (as also seen in the original Legend/800/600). In 1999, the IHHS tested the 1999 Honda Accord and commented that Honda had still not resolved the issue of its car’s leg injury criteria from footwell intrusion.1

Some years later, I worked in the Honda factory at Swindon and did some new model development driving for the company. It did not go well. I asked too many questions.

Why, I asked, did some new Civics have anti-intrusion steel bars fitted in the doors, but other identical models being built on the same production line for export to Europe’s mainland, did not? Were we prioritising safety by market profile, PR, customer ‘expectation’ and costs? Or were the ‘floating’ door bars when fitted, pointless anyway?

Why did Honda insist on such expensive double wishbone suspension (dictated from on high?) only to ruin the quality of ride effect with short dampers and springs in a low front that failed to offer correct damping or spring absorption rates? Why was there a brand new VW Passat being stripped apart in the new model development laboratory? Why did Honda end up paying Volvo about £400million to build it a new safety test centre?

I worked for Peugeot and for Saab too. The differences in their cars were interesting. I owned several Saabs and also two ‘real’ Peugeots – a 304 and a 305 – but soon Peugeot’s past quality and strength seemed to have departed. My mother’s 205 three-door was a nightmare and split at the B-pillar.

My uncle’s Rover P6 3500V8 had ‘Ambla’ seat trim with a ‘Huntsman’ vinyl roof. At least it was not BL puce or excreta hued. It was a truly great car. Our Montego estate was superb. Our Land Rover even better. BL made such good cars, but the narrative wants you to remember the bad ones. It is however rather hard to forget the bad moments. But there is more to BL and its story than that.

My aunt owned a truly bizarre Chrysler 180 and an Australian relative owned the Aussie version of the same car – which came with an extended-aircraft carrier deck-like nose job.

Chrysler in the 1970s and 1980s was not unlike BL in that it turned out rehashed and facelifted ‘series four’ badge-engineered cars, left right and centre. The Chrysler Sunbeam hatchback of the 1980s was in fact the underpinnings of the lurching, rear-wheel drive, two decades old Hillman Avenger, recast and draped over with a cleverly disguised ‘modern’ hatchback body that even used the Avenger two-door shell’s front doors. Inside, the cabin was cramped by the massive transmission tunnel and gearbox housing. Apart from the Lotus-tweaked version, the Sunbeam was a marketing con-trick. So it was not just BL who played games with the brands and the consumer.

So others got things wrong too. But they got things right as well. Think Peugeot 305 and 505, think Renault 30 and 20, think Saab 99 and 900, think VW Passat; think Mazda 626. Yet the Princess, notably the Princess 2, 2000 HLS was a superbly designed car of huge refinement – but it too was hobbled by BL built quality and also the BL narrative. Princess was brilliant – but you are not allowed to say so.

‘Badge engineering’ gone mad was not just a BL thing; we saw that old late-1960s Hillman Avenger of Sunbeam u...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• Acknowledgements
• Introduction
• 1 Questions
• 2 An Empire Ends & Another Begins
• 3 Fifties Style
• 4 Car Craft: P6 to MGB
• 5 1960s: Strike-bound Before Stokes
• 6 The ‘Fordisation’ of BLMC
• 7 ‘In Place of Strife’
• 8 1970s Numbers Games
• 9 1980s The Edwardes Effect
• 10 ‘Reds’ Under the BL Bed?
• 11 BL Brilliance
• 12 Austin to Roverisation
• 13 The Way to a Rusty Death
• Notes
• Bibliography