Akio’s own father, Honorary Chairman Shoichiro Toyoda, and Advisor Hiroshi Okuda may have already agreed to step down voluntarily, according to a release by Chairman Fujio Cho on the 20th of this month.

This is actually somewhat consistent with Japan’s current economic climate and corporate culture, not only in a modern-day context (the Bloomberg article cites similar head-loppings at Mizuho Financial and Sanyo Electric, both companies facing the same losses this year), but also from within Toyoda’s own family; Kiichiro Toyoda, Akio’s grandfather and the automotive company’s original founder, voluntarily resigned alongside his fellow executives in 1948 when the company faced similarly flagging profits, which resulted in massive layoffs and an impending strike. He died of a stroke four years later, never to see his company’s massive spike in profitability in 1959, which continued unbroken until last year.

Toyota Corporate and Toyota of North America are still declining to comment on any changes in the company’s management.

In the midst of Toyota’s rather subdued rah-rah over becoming the new, undisputed global leader in automotive sales, executives at the Best Gosh Darned Car Company In The Known Universe are scrambling to reduce inventories and keep them commensurate with the current sub-freezing economy. Toyota is getting ready to offer substantial cash incentives in an effort to move their ‘09 vehicles off the lots as quickly as one can do in these temperatures. On top of that, Bloomberg has reported a particularly interesting announcement from Toyota spokesman Bill Kwong: the rollout of the newly-refreshed 2010 Camry, just unveiled at the Detroit Show, will be pushed back to April.

2010 models of the similarly refreshed Highlander and brand-new Venza, expected to hit dealers this month, will start shipping in earnest by February or March. The Venza, which just started blitzing dealers a couple months ago as an ‘09, is in particular need to stay in the oven for a while before the ’10s come along. While not a candidate for Toyota’s current round of cash incentives, running through February 2nd, it would be a rather embarrassing situation to pay exactly the same cost for an ‘09 Venza as the ‘10 model sitting next to it.

Toyota’s cash incentives, which started on the 19th of this month, are focused heavily on their large truck offering, the Tundra: ‘09 models get $2000 dealer cash on the hood, while the company swallows $4000 customer cash on the remaining ’08s (in case you’re skeptical about how many of those are still out there, scroll down this list to get a taste).

Surprisingly, there’s also cash on the front deck of the perennial best-selling Camry ($1000 for the customer, $500 for the dealer, non-hybrid models only), Corolla (either $1500 or $1250 depending on which trim level you choose) and even the canonized and beatified Prius ($750).

So does this prove that the mighty Achilles has exposed his weakness? Umm, let’s don’t go shooting arrows at the heels just yet–besides being in the middle of an economic downturn, mid-winter is not typically a time to get people onto your lots, hence the age-old advice that December/January is an excellent time to buy a car. In other words, you might not even HAVE arrows.

These conditions are hurting everyone right now, and Toyota is making very smart moves at the front lines right now, to avoid an embarrassing retreat later.

That’s really too bad, because perhaps one of the better annual awards, the North American Car/Truck of the Year, unveiled annually at the Detroit Show, seems to go largely unnoticed. The jury is comprised of no less than 50 international automotive journalists at any one time, who are invited to contribute based upon their breadth of knowledge and length of time covering the auto industry. The funds to cover the Awards come from membership dues only, to avoid outside influence. What I’m trying to say is, if I had to pick one “Of The Year” award each year, the North American Car/Truck Of The Year would get my Car Of The Year Award Of The Year… award.

Anyway, enough about them. The real story here is that we have a very interesting mix of vehicles on the table this year, with some clear winners, but also some surprises.

Among the Truck candidates, the Dodge Ram, Ford F-150 and Mercedes-Benz ML320 BlueTEC, the freshly redesigned F-150 looks to have a secure lock on the trophy, given its tremendous advancements in technology and feature content, and its gob-smacking reviews (this one from Dan Neil being a good indication). That’s not to say the completely redesigned Ram is chopped liver at all, though, and the ML320 carries the first diesel engine to be represented in a NATOTY final vote.

Car Of The Year is a bit less cut-and-dried. The finalists include the Ford Flex, Hyundai Genesis and Volkswagen Jetta TDI. This one is a bit tougher to suss out, although I bet the Genesis will get the nod, being a farther step forward than the Flex and certainly the Jetta Diesel. Although the TDI represents the first diesel to make COTY honors, and the first true 50-state diesel VW’s been able to offer, they’ve had three generations and several years to make the Jetta TDI the hotly desired car that it is today. The Flex, in every possible contrast, is a fresh and dynamic vehicle that just happened to arrive at exactly the wrong time; I wonder what the “Of The Year” awards would have looked like in 2005 had the Flex arrived at dealerships then.

Earlier this December, each judge was presented with a ballot in which they have 25 points to spread around the different contenders, in which a maximum of 10 points can be allotted toward any one vehicle, and the rest go toward others on the list. Jurors must dispense all 25 points on the ballot, though, to encourage a spread of winning votes, which were then sent securely to that most fabulous of tabulators (tabulous of fabulators?), Deloitte & Touche–more specifically, one Michelle Collins, D&T’s Vice Chairwoman Automotive.

Feel free to practice your deep-breathing techniques until January 11th, when the winners are unveiled in Detroit.

Anyway, according to the feelings of some conservatives, perhaps the lesser of two evils would be to allow those companies to die a glorious and bloody death on the pristine plains of the free market, thereby officially closing the book on their past sins, rather than to be castrated slowly by the greedy hands of a Democrat-controlled government. Why, they’ll be forced to make “green” vehicles, little tweet-tweet hybrids with huge, bulbous “faces” to keep jaywalkers from getting bruised while carrying their soy lattes to the Haight-Ashbury Human Be-In, don’t you just know it.

See, I don’t like either extreme. On the record, I’m not a NASCAR fan, but I wouldn’t be too quick to dismiss the entire sport. Even in lean times, I still feel that any motorsport has its advantages in terms of parts development and R&D, and in NASCAR’s case, an undeniable entertainment value, our very own horseless equivalent to the chariot races of antiquity.

In fact, I wonder if there would be a way to cushion both sides of the sword, to appease a post-collapse NASCAR crowd while keeping the politicians happy. Or at the very least, keep their hands tied to their desks:

Force NASCAR entrants to run clean diesel engines in the 2011 Camping World Truck Series.

You’re right, that’s absolutely crazy. No governing body would buy it. All the manufacturers and teams have already placed their (currently very short) development dollars on gasoline engines from now until kingdom come. But there are a few salient points out there that I believe could turn the tide in diesel’s favor.

1.) The diesel engine is not just a known quantity, it’s an object of desire and status symbol among Red State truck purchasers, widely known for its lusty torque and effortless efficiency. If the new “green” image were to leave a soylent taste in their mouth, then perhaps a generous dollop of extra horsepower and torque numbers over the existing series, some 800hp and 1100 ft-lbs of torque, would sweeten the deal. But it’s not like there’s anything wimpy at all about the working-man’s diesel, even if it doesn’t spit out gobs of black soot. Heck, since 2001 the Power Stroke Diesel 200 has consistently graced the Craftsman Truck Series calendar, even though no diesel engines of any kind have ever raced there.

2.) As in all motorsports, NASCAR included, manufacturers can obtain priceless information about high-speed endurance, heat management, durability and material strength, at a cost which we know can be at least partially recouped through the breathlessly active marketing of the NASCAR traveling circus. Except in this case, it can be applied to the diesel engine, a product which Detroit automakers (heck, even Toyota) have the tools to use right now as a cheaper, faster and better weapon in the new “green” consumer lineup.

3.) The positive PR implications for everyone involved–teams, drivers, manufacturers, event sponsors, NASCAR–would be enormous on both sides of the fuel-efficiency aisle. Whether we want to keep our oil money out of foreign hands or save an ecosystem hanging in the balance, the idea of a squirming pack of oval-racing diesel trucks has universal coolness potential, in what is already one of the most riveting smashmouth spectacles in motorsport.

To show you what I’m blabbering on about, I’ve written up the following quick-and-dirty spec for what a Camping World Series diesel racer would look like, and you can judge for yourself how grape-nuts crazy I really am:

Layout: Front-engine, rear-wheel-drive, pickup truck body with “covered” bed, fixed to NASCAR template.

Fuel type: either petroleum diesel or biodiesel, or any mixture of both, ratio free, provided by competing contractors, with an increase in required biomass content as years progress.

Fuel delivery: free. This will probably be either common-rail sequential or direct-to-cylinder piezoelectric injection. No spark ignition of any kind after initial engine start will be allowed.

Fuel capacity: fixed, 19 US gallons, location also fixed in a safety fuel cell. (This is down from the 22 gallon tank in place now, to adjust for diesel’s slight fuel economy advantage and allow for the same number of pit stops.)

Engine Displacement: fixed, 7.0 liters / 427 cubic inches.

Engine Layout: fixed, longitudinal V-8

Engine Induction: series spec, variable-vane, twin-scroll turbocharger producing 3 bar max boost, units provided by NASCAR sanctioning body free of cost, with the option to provide restricted air inlets at specific racetracks. The location of these turbochargers inside the vehicle body is free as long as they can be accessed at tech inspection. Air-to-liquid intercoolers are allowed; their location and number are free but they must not be visible from outside the bodywork of the vehicle.

Engine exhaust: starboard-side exit, mandatory particulate emissions limit of 0.025 g/km, or 0.0402 g/mi, achievable through any diesel particulate filter, specifications free as long as its parts are not visible outside the bodywork of the vehicle. This will be enforced by a mandatory sniffer device located just inside the exhaust nozzle, which transmits through a one-way datalink (see below) to the NASCAR tech inspection trailer. Failure to comply at any time will result in an immediate black flag.

Engine management: series spec computer, software and data acquisition provided by NASCAR sanctioning body free of cost, one-way secured wireless car-to-pit diagnostic link which also feeds directly to monitors at NASCAR tech inspection trailer, engine parameters adjustable by datalink cable only when the vehicle is stopped. No traction control, overboost or “push-to-pass” function will be included.

Max horsepower: free, although restrictions should keep this to between 650 - 850 crank hp, depending on ambient racetrack conditions.

Max torque: free, although restrictions should keep this to between 800 - 1200 lb-ft, depending on ambient racetrack conditions.

Gearbox: three or four speed “clutchless shift” manual transaxle, similar to the Jerico or Richmond units in place today.

Vehicle weight: minimum driverless “dry” weight 3400 lbs; minimum driverless “wet” weight, 3600 lbs.

Suspension: adjustable within current NCWS specification. (Would probably be tuned much softer at the rear to accommodate the extra horsepower and torque.)

Aero: choice of front splitter or apron, adjustable at any time during race conditions, and series spec fixed rear wing, provided by NASCAR sanctioning body free of cost, adjustable for angle-of-attack only before qualifying at each event.

Rolling stock: fixed, 13″ x 7″ steel wheels at the front and 13″ x 9.5″ at the rear, slick Goodyear racing tires with new soft compound encouraged to counter the extra torque.

Driver safety:  Approved HANS device, six-point harness and safety seat, concurrent with NASCAR regulations.

Agree? Disagree? Yawn? The floor is yours; see the comment box below.

Confirmation arrived this morning from the current 800 pound gorilla in sportscar racing: due to the current economic clusterf%&* conditions, Audi will not bring its works cars to contest the 2009 American Le Mans Series or its European cousin, the Le Mans Endurance Series, instead choosing to focus on its prototype entries in two major endurance races, the Sebring 12-hour race in early spring, and the 24 Hours of LeMans in the summer. These will be the prototype car’s only two appearances, both run by Audi Sport Team Joest.

Audi will remain focused on its A4 sedan entry in Germany’s astoundingly popular DTM series, and will also offer a racing version of its R8 production car for sale to privateer teams. That car, which was recently unveiled at the motor show in Essen, is being built to FIA GT3 specifications, a series with somewhat similar specifications to the SCCA’s SPEED World Challege GT class.

Far from being a time to stop and rest on one’s laurels, this is a perfect opportunity to evaluate why a top-level motorsport program is no mere frivolous advertisement pitch, but an important development tool for an automaker, even when the money’s tight.

Audi’s modern programs in motorsport, if you don’t count the pre-war Auto Union efforts or the current rules-strictured DTM, have focused on bringing a new technology to a certain race series (typically one which is alien to that technology), then beating competitors around the ears with it.

Their Quattro rally program, starting in 1980, introduced 4WD to what was once a 2WD-only sport, and forced their competition to either figure out a way to power all four wheels or continue to get beaten. Lancia, Peugeot, Rover, Ford and Citroen all stepped up to the challenge with their own exotic 4WD machinery, to eventually compete in the exciting (if ill-fated) FIA Group B rallying category.

The Audi Quattro sports car program in Trans-Am, and eventually IMSA, demonstrated 4WD’s devastating efficiency on a racetrack as well as looking great with fluffy 80’s hair, though neither was good enough to win a championship outright.

Roughly ten years later, Audi’s open-canopy endurance prototype R8R, and its closed-top sister the R8C, both suffered a rocky start, but the Dallara-chassis R8 sports prototype delivered a shock to endurance racing at LeMans 1999, when crews were able to swap out a failed gearbox by changing the entire rear end of the car in 3 minutes. Even without that neat trick (banned by the ACO in subsequent races) the R8 doled out crushing victories on a constant basis* from 2000 to 2005.

And most of our smart readers can finish the story from there, with the current chapter being Audi’s continued prototype dominance after the introduction of the surprisingly clean, eerily quiet diesel-powered R10 TDI, which has dominated all but the tightest city courses (those deferred to its lesser-classed–though lighter and more agile–second cousin once-removed, the amazing Porsche RS Spyder). As with Audi’s career in rally, the seismic shift to diesel technology has forced competition to keep up, starting with Peugeot’s devastatingly quick diesel challenger, the 908 HDi FAP. In the hopes of raising the bar, Audi’s R10 replacement, highlighted in the press release as the R15, will remain an open-cockpit prototype, but with dramatically different aerodynamics and a smaller, lighter and more efficient diesel powerplant.

It can be argued that Audi’s motorsports program has served as a crucible for production car technologies, the way all motorsports programs should.

Audi’s Quattro system, developed with Torsen, was not the first 4WD system to be used in a race car or even a car with sporting intentions (that honor would be bestowed on 1968’s Jensen FF Interceptor), but it was a system that was exactly right for its time, and eventually found its way into all Audi production vehicles. Today, 4WD and all-wheel-drive are common options on cars with sporting or luxury intentions, and those cars are immensely popular in regional climates where the winters get messy.

The small-displacement turbocharged V-8 in the R8 open-top prototype was used to refine and develop Volkswagen Group’s Fuel Stratified Injection, FSI for short. While not the first of its kind in automotive use (that honor goes to Ford’s ProCo system for the Crown Vic in the 1970’s), the system dumped a fine mist of charged, atomized gas directly into the firing cylinders, noticeably increasing the overall power and fuel efficiency for such a high-strung, high-pressure race engine. The FSI system, having been developed and honed at the track instead of at the hands of consumers, has since made its way successfully into the engine bay of nearly every Volkswagen Group vehicle, including Audi.

TDI on the other hand, Volkswagen Group’s acronym for Turbocharged DIrect Injection, had already gotten its start with the 1989 Audi 100 and had been in service for nearly 20 years before the system was put into service with Audi’s works racing team, in the form of the R10 TDI. The immediately obvious performance gains from a diesel powerplant (more than eight hundred foot-pounds of torque, enough to turn most drive axles into saltwater taffy) made the change worthwhile from a racing standpoint, but overall the name of the game was still development: Audi partnered with Dow Chemical to develop and test the particulate traps and NOx catalytic reduction devices at the tail end of the car, the fruits of which can just now be seen in the current crop of “clean” TDI engines available in the Volkswagen stable of brands.

It’s hoped that in the R8 GT3 program, as with other customer-car programs from Porsche (911 GT3 Cup), Ferrari (430GT and Challenge), Ford (FR500C/R) and Dodge (Viper Competition Coupe), Audi will use this opportunity as a cost-effective means to collect development data from its privateer racing customers.

While that doesn’t sound nearly as nice as being able to see the new R15 at every major city in the US and Europe, the R8 GT3 is still one heck of a sow’s ear with which to start making silk purses.

* - that run was interrupted only in 2003 by the Bentley Speed 8, itself a very heavily modified, closed-top Audi R8.

I’m pissed.

What the heck is wrong with the denizens of this country, and the people we voted into office? Why are their opinions still hopelessly outmoded, after years of excellent products and the PR to back it up? Why is the poll-bearing public so convinced that there will be NO ECONOMIC FALLOUT from a Big 3 liquidation?

Why was there no problem at all when Wall Street jerkoffs arrived in Washington–in private jets, no less–to collect their $700bn without even so much as a wink and a nudge? “It’s all good! We believe you!”

What the hell happened to this mighty auto industry, that it couldn’t survive an (arguably sizeable) economic iceberg? After all the Previous Icebergs that have been spotted in these waters (the Suez Oil Crisis, the OPEC Oil Crisis, British Leyland, Audi’s Unintended Acceleration, the early 90’s recession, MG Rover, the meltdown of GM/FIAT, 9/11, two rounds of Gulf hurricanes, the subprime lending crisis), why am I getting the overwhelming impression that Future Economic Iceberg plans were not in place before the ship had even set sail?

Why wasn’t it obvious (even to us) that maintaining six to eight automotive brands in the same market space would surely lead to consequences like this?

Why are Saab and Volvo–loveable, awesome little guys, but clearly the scrawniest pack mules–being sent to the altar before an angry God, instead of tender and juicy fattened calves like GMC and Mercury?

Moreover, with some–or all–of these cars in jeopardy, how does one credibly evaluate the consumer value of an automobile (new or used) when its maker’s fate is so clearly hanging on a thread?

I have no good answers for any of these questions in the near term. I am worried that those answers will only be written in history. And we know who writes history–the victors.

In other words, the only thing I feel truly qualified to write: now’s a good time to buy a Porsche! But only if you can pay in cash.

This week, BMW revealed some key information about its new clean diesel products to be sold in North America, and held an online press conference to answer a few questions about how BMW plans to market its twin-turbo oil burner, BMW’s first diesel offering in the States in 22 years.*

It bears noticing that this follows fresh on the news that Honda and Acura are getting cold feet about their own clean diesel initiative, and considering holding off the release of its i-CTDi-equipped Acura TSX. (source: Automotive News, sub req’d.)

First on the list, and the main crux of the press release issued the same day, is pricing for the two new models on offer, the 335d ($44,725) and x5 xDrive35d ($52,025). For both models, the diesel represents about a $4000 premium over its gasoline counterparts, which turns out to be a fairly thick stack of lettuce compared to what other diesel-loving consumers are being charged ($2000 extra for the Volkswagen Jetta TDI, and a scant $1500 extra for the Mercedes ML320 CDI, both figures from this morning’s Automotive News article, sub req’d). Bearing in mind that diesel fuel is more expensive than gasoline by a country mile in the States, this sounds like a raw deal, but BMW insists that its fuel consumption savings (roughly 30% over its petrol counterparts) might just be worth it.

BMW also insists that some of that extra cash is offset by the federal tax subsidy (the Alternative Motor Vehicle Credit) which has been put in place for high-efficiency vehicles, of which your purchase of the 335d can nab you $995, and the X5 xDrive35d will net you $1550.

There is also a great deal of technology in play with the new engine on offer, BMW’s 3-liter M52 twin-turbo diesel. Both turbos adjust to infinitely variable pressure, and the engine supports direct injection. Unlike most diesels which use cast iron, the M52’s engine block is purified magnesium fused to an aluminum core, which sheds a bunch of weight.

And, to get the embarrassing subject out of the way, it’s confirmed that the Tier 2 Bin 5-beating emissions numbers are made possible by the chemical magic known as “urea-injection”, although BMW’s brand meisters are very hesitant to use those words in succession for fear that customers will laugh hysterically.

So instead they’d like you to remember the name BluePerformance, which refers to the odorless, non-toxic blue urea solution, which is squirted into the exhaust manifold just before it reaches the catalytic converter. The urea (a chemical compound derived from ammonia) serves to split the oxides of nitrogen which makes diesel exhaust stinky, and render those components into harmless water and di-atomic nitrogen. The entire process from start to finish is called Selective Catalytic Reduction, or SCR for short.

For you chemistry geeks out there, the previous paragraph can be expressed like this (courtesy Wikipedia):

The urea solution itself goes by the name AdBlue, though according to BMW’s sources it will not be marketed under that name, since its trademark is registered overseas exclusively to a German engineering standards organization. BMW dealers over here will most likely refer to it as Diesel Exhaust Fluid. Its technical name, aus32, indicates its contents: aqueous urea solution, 32%. It actually ends up being 32.5% urea, and 67.5% purified water. The product is engineered in the confines of a (presumably very clean) lab, non-toxic and completely odorless.

The Diesel Exhaust Fluid is stored in two tanks, one “Active” tank to disperse the fluid, and another tank which stores the majority of the fluid until it’s needed. The system was designed from the outset such that, once fully filled, a tank of Diesel Exhaust Fluid should last you precisely until your next oil change, depending on how maniacal a driver you are. So, give or take about 9000 miles. And what happens when it runs out? The engine is programmed not to start without Diesel Exhaust Fluid. After they mentioned this, BMW’s engineers hastened to add that you’ll have plenty of warning before that time comes, since the car’s ECU constantly samples exhaust gases and temperatures, the big yellow warnings should start at about 1000 miles from empty. At 200 miles from empty, the warnings would be very hard to miss. Presumably, this measure is in place to sew up any loopholes about the engine’s air-quality compliance.

Lastly, the engine promises boohoodles of torque, 425 lb-ft to be precise, at 265hp. BMW simply couldn’t source a manual transmission that could handle that much twist, so it’s six-speed automatic only for both models, but surely there must be some fun to be had there. Perhaps pulling tree-stumps.

A small fleet of BluePerformance cars will be available for a quick drive around the block, at the LA Auto Show in a couple weeks. After that, demonstrators will be shipped to BMW dealers across the country, in the hopes that a quick drive will be enough to convince buyers to take an oil-burning Bimmer seriously. Or simply take one home.

* - the E28-body 524td, imported from 1985-1986.

It says no worries, guys. Why do you look so worried?

On Friday, GM spokesman John McDonald confirmed to Automotive News (sub req’d) that the automaker will indeed end a special financing deal for their certified used car program earlier than originally planned, specifying the lack of funding for credit as the primary cause. Naturally the words lack of funding causes alarm among the people who make money off of these cars, but there’s some explaining to do.

The original plan was as follows: GM would offer 3.9% financing for 60 months on all certified used Chevy Impala and Pontiac G6 cars, and Chevy Silverado and GMC Sierra pickups, purchased between this October 1st and January 5th. The change in plans moves the end-date back to November 3rd, this Monday. What’s a possible reason? The financing program was being run exclusively through GMAC Financial Services, until recently a very heavy (perhaps TOO heavy) bargaining chip in the merger talks between GM and Chrysler.

To put that in context, remember that GM has recently offered a new car financing incentive called Financing That Fits, which actively pushes buyers–and dealers–away from financing with GMAC, which had restricted its automotive loans to credit scorers of 700 and higher.

Dealers, however, are somewhat less inclined to let the lack of incentive roll off their backs. The Impala, G6, Silverado and Sierra are massive-volume models, and typically take up an enormous chunk of floorplanning at many dealers, as both new and used cars.

In fact, one of the sourced GM dealers in suburban Detroit, who claimed that those four models took up as much as 50% of his used inventory, went so far as to call the incentive recall a “bait and switch”. Some dealers had even paid more than normal for the cars at auction, once they knew there would be an incentive for them–only to have the incentive cut drastically short.

McDonald did, however, insist to Automotive News that another used car financing incentive would take its place on Tuesday, November 4th, but wouldn’t specify details about what it was or which models it would cover. If you insist on those models with that kind of financing, however, get thee to a GM Certified Used Dealer before the day is out.

I have a conundrum to share with you. In the automotive media, we’ve come to regard an automobile’s design or build flaws as “character”, or “personality”. There’s a certain romance about rough-hewn edges, to be sure, but when is a flaw just a flaw? When is it OK to be imperfect, and when is it NOT OK to be too perfect?

I have experienced a car which is imperfection personified, the Dodge Caliber SRT4. For automotive buyers of many different stripes, this over-pressured Caliber (CSRT4 for short) offers a lot of drawbacks. It’s rough, it’s unrefined, it’s overpowered, it’s loud, it’s ugly. Even if those things sound good to you, you’ll still have right to be disappointed—it’s heavier and bigger and softer than its own forebear, the Neon SRT4, a car which won raves from the press for being… honestly, about as hardcore as getting a tattoo of your face on your face.

So the verdict, therefore, is easy: With all the incriminations that can be levied against the imperfect, dubious Caliber SRT4, I loved every second I had with it.

I’m actually glad to say this hotted-up Caliber enters familiar territory in the United States by this point in history. The factory-tuned, front-wheel-drive compact car has been represented fairly well over the last couple decades: Honda’s Civic Si, Ford’s SVT Focus, Volkswagen’s GTI, Chevrolet’s newly turbocharged Cobalt/HHR SS, Mazda’s MazdaSpeed3, the MINI Cooper/Clubman S, and the previously mentioned Neon SRT4.

If you really wanted to reach into history to look for inspiration, you could pull something from Dodge’s own big-hair yearbook: the 1986 Omni GLH-S, an aggressively modified, madly turbocharged creation from my personal favorite Texas chicken farmer, Carroll Shelby. (The model’s initials: Goes Like Hell-S’more.)

In terms of price, Dodge’s modern entry falls about midway through the pack at a starting price of $22,435, with the sticker on my rather loaded tester reading $26,175. So the primary difference that the Caliber brings to this already-crowded table is the number of horses: 285 of them to be exact, making 265 pounds-feet of torque. (As if that weren’t enough, dyno graphs from owners continue to circulate that those numbers are grossly conservative.) Believe it or not, you can give thanks to the existing 2.4 liter “World Engine”, co-developed with Hyundai and Mitsubishi, which, courtesy of Chrysler’s mad scientists at Street and Racing Technology, has been treated to a honking turbocharger (good for about 15 pounds of boost) and an enormous pancake of an air-intercooler, mounted squarely behind Dodge’s cross-bar grille so the folks (who care) can see.

That’s not the only stuff the SRT squad massaged. Over the standard Caliber, the suspension is dropped 28mm in the front and 22mm in the rear, and the shocks stiffened by about 50 lbs per inch; the front brakes are brought in from the police-equipment Dodge Charger, and will even take the police-spec brake pads if you order them; the front anti-roll bar from the Caliber R/T model was brought in, as well as a stiffer rear sway bar; aggressive tires on sparkling 19” wheels are standard, in either Goodyear Eagle RS-A all-weather flavor or Goodyear Eagle F1 summer tires; the driver’s information display under the gas gauge gets a neat set of optional “performance” doodads like 0-60 time, G-loading, 1/4 and 1/8 mile times; the standard seats are replaced with body-huggers, embroidered with the SRT logo; there are minor aero improvements like a lowered front apron, extra vents in the hood, a duck-tail spoiler and molded under-body splitter.

But these details are somewhat hard to see; without the aero bits and extra leather trim, it still looks like a standard Caliber, with the same low-buck plastic interior and block-of-Velveeta exterior that car is famous for.

In other words, it’s about 10 lbs of ugly in a 5 lb bag.

So why I should care so much about this arrogant, bulging, snub-nosed monstrosity of a car is a very difficult subject to talk about in rational terms. Therefore, I’m going to argue about it irrationally.

Let’s imagine going to the store in a regular Dodge Caliber to buy some milk:

I went to the store and bought some milk.

There’s a good chap! The cats will be happy. Let’s go ahead and add three letters and a number (SRT4) to the end of that car’s name. Now, replay the scene:

I cast a Spell of Shattered Asphalt! Mighty Trees part in Fear as Two Hundred and Eighty Five Fire-Breathing Horses adjust the Rotation of the Earth, in my Quest! I seek only The Most Precious Milk…of the Holy Cow!

Uh oh. Hope he didn’t leave that on his voicemail.

Now, I don’t mean to imply that Chrysler is weaving LSD into the seat covers; the Caliber SRT4 is simply a machine that transforms the everyday back-and-forth trudge into a sensory adventure for the driver. This is a difficult car that begs for your attention and commitment during normal operation, a quality that is (unfortunately) too precious in the current American automotive market.

For example: the launch from 1^st gear. It’s simply impossible to hide damn-enough-near 300 pressurized horsepower in a front-wheel-drive car, so even with the standard stability and traction control activated, there’s still a very delicate balance between leaving rubber stripes and lurching to a halt. My first few work commutes went something like this: The traffic light would turn red. I would come to a stop, then immediately make an obnoxious F1-style standing start, yours truly holding the tach needle at about 3000 rpm (to keep from bogging down) until the light turns green, then suddenly launch off into the horizon like a catapult shot from an aircraft carrier. (To the elderly lady in the white Buick LeSabre: I was not actually attempting to challenge you, but congratulations on winning your first street race. If I had gotten into second gear, however, you would’ve gotten owned.)

Far from frustrating me, this behavior beguiled me—the CSRT4 adheres to your brain the way peanut butter sticks to your hair. From the moment I stepped out of the car, I longed to get back in and master the proper driving technique. If I just had a few more standing starts, if I could just put a few more miles on it… maybe I could smooth out that 1^st to 2^nd up-shift, maybe I could make my heel-and-toe a little less clunky, maybe I could take that S-curve on River Road without downshifting. So I took this car out at every opportunity, many times for no reason at all other than to “put miles on the car,” a condition that needs to be carefully explained to even the most understanding of spouses.

A lot of this phenomenon has to do with the everyday handling, which a lot of potential buyers will probably place in the “flaw” column, but I found immensely enjoyable. Hardcore, performance-minded buyers will probably find the stock suspension too soft and the center-of-mass too high, while the “non-car-people” will find it tosses their insides a bit too much. The former group will most likely replace the stock suspension with something more adjustable and ready for the track anyway, while the latter group will probably have never heard of the CSRT4 to begin with. The sensation that sticks out in my mind is a “pulled-down” feeling, in which any bump or irregularity in the pavement results in a solid yank downward—the car first, squishy occupants second. This happens at high speeds AND low speeds, so I have a feeling the shocks’ rebound setting (the force which pulls the wheels back toward the car, or vice-versa, after a bump) is very aggressive, in a wise attempt to keep those 285 horses stuck to the ground as often as possible. Once I got used to the frequent tugs from the seatbelt, I started to read it as a confidence-building sensation, one that’s bolstered by copious amounts of feedback through the chunky steering wheel, and plenty of feedback through the seat.

And this is where the spartan, cheap Caliber interior starts to make sense: it’s an office. When it’s just you, the bear-hug seat and the controls, the other stuff hardly matters. I would happily buy this car without a high-zoot stereo or a nav system, even though my tester had both, but I would definitely check the box for Dodge’s Uconnect hands-free Bluetooth phone pairing system, thus far the easiest I’ve ever used.

I feel even luckier that for such a rewarding driving experience, the CSRT4 returns fairly decent gas mileage– the sticker reads 22mpg city/27mpg highway on the current EPA cycle, though even with my boorish behavior around town I still managed a steady 23mpg. You can even feed it 87 octane gas if you want, though the SRT engine is much happier sipping 93 octane. These numbers pale in comparison to the venerable MINI Cooper S, which returns mpg numbers in the mid 30s, but the CSRT4 has one-hundred-and-thirteen horsepower in hand over the British contender, for a very similar price tag. Even as a certified Euro-snob and MINI-lover, I have a hard time picking a fight with that figure. You could hitch a lower-model MINI Cooper to the Cooper S, and still have less horsepower than the Dodge (which, remember, is conservatively rated).

You’ll notice two paragraphs back that I said the words “I would happily buy this car”. My longtime friends will tell you that I’m the person who’d sworn up and down that my next new car would be a MINI Cooper, but now I wonder… could I, would I dare to spend my own money on this hotter-than-a-two-dollar-pistol Caliber (pun entirely intended)? Without question, yes. This car’s flaws form a personality spectrum that leaves me maddeningly smitten. Besides driving me crazy, this car has driven straight into my shortlist.

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Would you be less offended if it said TURBO or IROC on the side?

How come we’re not being held up at stop lights? Why is no one noticing? What’s wrong with these people?

I’m clearly driving a capital-H-capital-Y-brid, because it says so in six-inch-tall letters right on the very doors of the vehicle I’m driving, which along with the 72 other badges (I don’t know, the count seems to get bigger every week) that other journalists have encountered on this particular truck, has made it the talk of the town among those who care about automobiles and their interactions with the environment.

And by “talk” I mean this: you’d think GM was putting Sierra Club stickers on Imperial AT-ATs.

By my estimation there are three kinds of people who even have the word “hybrid” on the brain when it comes time to purchase a car: people A, who just want to save money; people B, who just want to stop relying on other countries for oil; and people C, who just want to save the ecosystem.

You’re all wonderful people and I commend your efforts. But if you belong to only one of these groups, and you feel great disdain for the other two, I’m afraid GM’s big hybrid trucks are simply not for you. If you identify with two of those categories, and don’t mind three’s company, you might be interested.

If you swear devotion to all three groups, please be advised that unicorns don’t exist.

For purposes of disclosure, I should let you know that I probably fall outside of these categories, because when it comes to my money I’m not all that interested in a hybrid system on its merit alone—no matter how technically impressive it may be. I’m not intoxicated by the mere mention of the “H-word”.

I am, however, intoxicated by an automobile’s ability to get me to my destination in comfort and poise, and if you’ll allow me to cut ahead a little, I’ll tell you that the Tahoe Hybrid I sampled had those items covered very well indeed, and a lot of it is attributable to the 2-Mode Hybrid system itself.

I want to talk about that system, however, because its very transparency gives this hybrid’s image a few problems. GM’s 2-Mode Hybrid system effortlessly slushes power between a gasoline engine (in the Tahoe’s case, a massive 6 liter V8) and a pair of 60kW electric motors. The internal combustion engine and electric motor are very different powertrains that deliver torque in decidedly different ways. Getting these devices to play together without arguing is 2-Mode’s reason for being.

Believe it or not, GM’s hybrid development strategy started with larger vehicles (Allison public transit buses, actually) and downsized to fit in smaller applications like this Tahoe and its sister, the GMC Yukon Hybrid. The intention is that, other than the PR fanfare, 2-Mode will quietly work its way into whatever model lineup GM wants to apply it.

The operative word in the previous sentence is quietly. The Tahoe, like any GMT-900 truck, is already a librarian-approved driving experience, authoritatively hushed by enormous gobs of sound deadening and thick glass and Jell-O-like engine mounts, even if you should bring that mighty V8 to full song. Full thrust is available if you give the right pedal a quick jab, but this is a very big and very heavy vehicle, so it’s simply more comfortable when driven leisurely. Add an instant-on ignition, aerodynamic enhancements to smooth some of the Tahoe’s rough edges, and the electric motors that whirr along at speeds up to 25mph, and the 2-Mode system to slurry that power together with the V8, and you have probably one of the most somber and dignified driving experiences this side of a Rolls-Royce. Or, if you’re a bargain hunter, a VW Phaeton.

Whoa, hold your pitchforks. I said somber and dignified, not opulent or auspicious. Most of you Autosavants are familiar with the basic inherent goodnesses of the GMT-900 vehicles, and one of them is the finely crafted interior, which is simply a very pleasant place in which to do business. The Hybrid (starting at $50,490 for the 2WD model, about $53k for the one I tested) sits at the tippy top of the Tahoe’s pricing scale, so it gets a fair share of the upmarket LTZ’s goodies as standard. The Hybrid comes with a few differences, however.

There’s a stringent weight reduction regimen in effect to tweak the Hybrid’s mileage numbers: an aluminum hood, a smaller fuel tank (24.5 gallons), a rear hatch with fixed glass, lightweight side-steps, light alloy wheels, and the notably de-stuffed lightweight heated seats, which are just-as-dang-near comfy as the originals. The truth is, you wouldn’t notice these things unless you spend your Tuesday nights at the Splitting Hairs Club.

So, unlike the naysayers, I can see GM’s logic in employing vast swaths of decals and big chrome emblems (handsome little guys, by the way, with a circuit-board pattern printed in the green plastic), because the “hybrid” content in the Tahoe is so inconspicuous that the only way you’ll be able to get the best out of the system is to actually be repeatedly reminded that it really is a hybrid.

I was told more than a few times by contacts at GM that I should utilize the Tahoe Hybrid’s no-cost-option nav screen to display a special section which is exclusive to the Hybrid models (and the reason the nav is free): a continuous status monitor of the 2-Mode system. It’s similar to the screens in Toyota’s Hybrid Synergy Drive-equipped models in that it shows you a cartoon representation of the power transfer happening in your vehicle, the notable exception being that you can’t send more power to the shields or phasers. Not that I tried or anything.

My point is, if you want to meet those EPA numbers on the sticker (for the 2WD model I sampled, 21 city/22 highway) you should hit up the Driver Information Center underneath the tachometer, and access the Instant MPG display, which refreshes about twice a second (for the record, this is the most sensitive mpg display I’ve sampled). This, combined with the 2-Mode display, emboldens you to play the Efficiency Game, that super awesome secret hidden level that seems to be present on all hybrid cars, but in reality you can play in the comfort of in your very own beat-up Toyota Tercel. I played this very game all week in the Tahoe Hybrid and ended up with a rock-steady 19.8 mpg.

Hey, wait. That’s not that great, is it? Actually it represents about a 12% gain in efficiency over a standard Tahoe, which IS great, except… well, there’s that H-word on the side. Those folks who did express interest during my time with the Hybrid seemed universally disappointed with such a low number. Everyone–which in my case represents Groups A, B and C–seemed to be expecting more, even if this Tahoe is already an Archimedean feat of engineering in terms of efficiency, in almost direct spite of its own utility, comfort and size.

Most folks on the street still equate the word “hybrid” with a vehicle that gets at least 40-something mpg, something that would be quite frankly miraculous if it came from a three-row SUV as nice as this one.

I currently live in an area (the Deep South, if you must know) in which the Chevy Tahoe is an aspirational vehicle in its own right, and for some folks it’s even considered a sort of rite of passage into adulthood. Down here, the Tahoe (and its sister ship, the GMC Yukon) is a luxury car for people who hate luxury cars. I’m willing to wager that real fans of the Tahoe/Yukon–in other words, people who stuck around even after the Great SUV Collapse of ‘08–would seriously enjoy the Hybrid’s whizbang engineering, the extra savings in gasoline and (currently) the cash on the hood.

This is a tough subject to tackle, given the large SUV’s rapidly diminishing relevance in the American marketplace. I don’t have an easy answer with regard to the Tahoe Hybrid. It is a marvelous and silent monster, a blue-collar Orient Express. It is very hard to recommend this vehicle to anyone but the smartest of Autosavants, people who have realistic expectations, people who seek the path most definitely less trodden. If you care about saving the environment or pinching pennies or protecting our national interests, BUT none of these things matter quite as much as your romantic feelings for the big SUV, the Tahoe Hybrid would be an enjoyable fit in your garage.