The excellent steering wheel is, sadly, an endangered species.
Where it once roamed and rotated freely within the motor industry, it survives now solely in a few secure reserves, such as Dartford in Kent, Crewkerne in Somerset and Weissach in Germany.
It never used to be this way. Once, the excellent steering wheel – clean of design, round in nature and thrice-spoked – could be found everywhere.
Yesterday I was in the Autocar archives, when it struck me just how common the excellent steering wheel once was. From hot Ford Sierra to Ferrari F40, there was a good chance that any driver’s car had an excellent steering wheel, because it was a time when they were still organically-designed and singly purposed, before they were intensively farmed to squeeze more muscle, bulk and function from this most fundamental of car control devices.
So, what happened? First, the airbag, of course, striking through the steering wheel community with the viciousness and indiscrimination of ash dieback disease.
But it wasn't the airbag's fault alone. Fixing the airbag problem was simply an enabler for designers and engineers. It raised our awareness of what a steering wheel could be. Soon enough, a solution to massive airbags had been engineered and with it came a belief in our own cleverness. We'd conquered the massive airbag threat, making them pretty yet still have an explosive balloon in their midst. If we could make airbags very small and still go off at the right time, we could do anything. For the first time, we saw the steering wheel’s true potential. We saw it as an exotic, in the way the Victorians saw the grey squirrel.