An Outlandish Plan to Bring Back the Manual Gearbox

From Road & Track

This past week, I was at an open-lapping day at Thunderhill, in Northern California, and I happened to run into a fellow who, in past years, had been a well-respected racer in a big-bore SCCA National class. He'd run a Corvette back then, so it was no surprise to see that he'd brought a brand-new Corvette Z06 with all the track trimmings to this event. What was a surprise: He'd chosen to buy his new track rat with an eight-speed automatic transmission.

Now, you don't get to the pointy end of an SCCA grid without knowing your way around a clutch pedal, so I didn't figure he was afraid of shifting his new Vette manually. When I asked him why he'd chosen the automatic, he shrugged his shoulders. "It's less hassle, and it's just as quick," he said. "I don't miss shifting it myself." Well, I couldn't really call him a wimp or a wannabe, so I settled for keeping my mouth shut on the matter. Apparently there's at least one bona-fide race driver out there who would rather put it in "D" and forget it, even when he's turning laps in the two-minute range around Thunderhill.

The day after I came home from the track, however, I read that prices of manual-transmission Ferraris were reaching new heights. Clearly there are some contradictory things happening here. On one hand, seasoned racers are buying automatic-transmission track cars, even when they have a choice to get that same car with a manual. On the other hand, stick-shift Ferraris are soaring in price.

It's not just the Ferraris. Have you priced a previous-generation Porsche 911 GT3 lately? Or a GT3 RS? How about the RS 4.0? They're changing hands at nearly half a million dollars a pop. Absolutely insane for a car that probably can't stay within sniffing distance of a no-options current-year 911 GT3. Meanwhile, down here where us regular people live, manual-transmission C4-generation Corvette Grand Sports are still commanding more than half of their MSRP, 22 years after leaving the showroom floor. That's more than twice what PRNDL Vettes from the same year are worth.

I'm sure I don't have to tell you what stick-shift Honda Civics from the 80s and 90s are worth, right? There's clearly real market demand for cars that don't shift themselves, and if we can judge accurately from transaction prices, that demand is climbing. Yet the vast majority of first-rank sports cars available today can't be had with a clutch pedal, and it's virtually impossible to get anything bigger than a Honda Accord without settling for an automatic.

The real question is whether we, the would-be purchasers of manual transmissions, are willing to put our money where our mouth is. I know that I personally am; the vast majority of new cars I've purchased, up to and including a 1997 Land Rover Discover, have been manuals. I specifically bought my Accord Coupe two years ago because I could shift it myself. If Acura came out with a stick-shift TLX-or even, whisper it, a stick-shift RLX-I'd trade in and buy that.

Insofar as the "standard" transmission is no longer standard in 2016, however, and given that well over 90 percent of the cars sold in this country are automatics, we have to get used to the idea that the manual transmission will be a connoisseur's option in the future, just like the Mark Levinson stereo systems in a Lexus LS460 or the unique interior packages available on a Bentley Mulsanne. It's going to cost extra.

The question is-how much extra? It's expensive for an automaker to develop a powertrain combination and to certify it for sale in the United States. It's also troublesome for dealers to have stick-shift cars on their lots. That's why Honda, for example, severely restricts the options and even the colors that you can get with their manual-equipped cars. No dealer wants to stock ten different colors of six-speed Accord coupes.

I'm going to throw out a number that is mostly made up but does come from some conversations with engineers in the auto business: 50 million bucks. That's a ballpark estimate of putting a commercially-available manual, like a Tremec, into an existing car and certifying the powertrain with the EPA. For some cars that's obviously high; it would cost Honda virtually nothing, for example, to sell a six-speed manual Accord V6 sedan. And for other cars it's probably low; think of what it would take to develop and engineer a stick-shift for the Ford Flex and Lincoln MKT, which ride on a platform that in its current form has never had anything but an automatic.

Let's roll with 50 million bucks for the moment. So if Ferrari could sell 5,000 488 GTBs with a clutch pedal over the car's lifetime, that's $10,000 per car. A mere pittance, really, when you look at the price of some Ferrari options. The same is true of the Porsche GT3. I don't understand why the current McLarens don't have an available manual-every time they raise the ante on that platform's performance and aggression, it seems to sell better.

When we look at mass-market cars, the case becomes more troublesome. I'd be willing to pay a $2500 premium for a six-speed V6 Acura TLX, so the company would have to find 19,999 other people just as stubborn as I am. Acura sold about 50,000 TLXes last year, and they'll have this generation around for four years or thereabouts. Ten percent of TLX buyers would have to take the option. I'm not sure that would happen.

Perhaps I'm looking at it all wrong. Maybe the cost of a manual option should be sent over to the marketing department. What's it cost to make a Super Bowl ad? I don't know, but it costs five million bucks to show it. How about this: The car companies make the manual transmission a no-cost option. But in order to "qualify" for a manual, you have to get five people to buy an automatic version of that same car. The cost of certifying the manual transmission is then charged to marketing.

That single stroke of marketing genius could revolutionize the way we bug the hell out of our neighbors, family, and friends. Sure, I could probably convince five people to buy Acuras so I can get my fully loaded manual-transmission RLX with the fancy stereo and the leather seats that don't smell like plastic . . . once. The next time I bought a car, I'd have to convince five more people. And most of the people I know don't buy cars as often as I do.

Eventually, you'd see car guys out in front of the grocery store, standing next to the Girl Scouts. "Miss, if you aren't going to pick up those Thin Mints today, what are the chances I could get you to buy a Porsche Macan S so I can have a GT3 RS with a clutch pedal?" We'd stand on freeway off-ramps with signs: HUNGRY (TO SHIFT MY OWN LAMBORGHINI)-PLEASE HELP-GOD BLESS. Eventually we'd be door-to-door. I can see it now: A young mother is preparing lunch for her children when the door rings. On her porch, there's a young man in a Blipshift shirt.

"If you have a few minutes, Ma'am, I'd like to share the good news with you . . . and that good news is that you can get the GMC Acadia with a seven-speed manual! Ma'am? Hello? Come back!"