Remember those concept cars from your youth? The elongated hoods, the sleek fenders, the outrageous shapes. What’s become of concept cars?
The declining market for concept vehicles could significantly affect the automotive industry’s trajectory. These unique, forward-looking cars were utilized to test new ideas, demonstrate design potential, explore advancing technology, and simply generate excitement for the future. They represented what a manufacturer could achieve without budget limitations or regulatory constraints. Will they vanish completely?
The message that a concept car is meant to convey to both manufacturers and consumers is diminishing. When individuals are inclined to view concepts with skepticism due to underlying fears about the future rather than optimism, the aspect of market research falters. If automakers cannot derive valid insights from the feedback, their objectives wobble. As manufacturers produce fewer bold concepts, perceiving it as financial folly, the one chance for dialogue about the design and functionality of future vehicles shrinks. What does this imply for the entire sector?
In the newest installment of The Drivecast, we delve into the concept car industry with Jon Ikeda, the former design lead at Acura, exploring what was, what is, and what the norms may become moving forward.
New to us? The Drivecast is The Drive‘s weekly podcast, offering behind-the-scenes insights into the most significant controversies, narratives, and influencers shaping the automotive sector, along with how our roads presently look. Backed by The Drive‘s exclusive access, original journalism, exclusives, and insights, The Drivecast aims to turn everyone into an insider.
Tune into The Drivecast via Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or Amazon Music. Enjoy it? Appreciate it? Want to assist? Leave a five-star review on your preferred platform to help increase awareness of The Drivecast. Have a suggestion, insight, request, or feedback? Drop us a line at [email protected]. We promise to read each email.
Complete Transcript
Kyle: Hello everyone and welcome to the Drivecast. I am Kyle Cheromcha, editor-in-chief of the Drive, and the Drivecast is our weekly podcast taking you behind the scenes of the biggest stories, controversies, and people shaping the auto industry.
Joel is on a well-deserved vacation after making global headlines last week with his report about getting tracked by police and nearly arrested thanks to a Flock license plate camera screw up. That story is live on thedrive.com, and if you are not one of the millions of people who saw it, what are you doing? Time to catch up because we got a lot more coming on that.
So anyway, this week, I am stepping back in with another special interview episode on a problem that could have huge implications for the future of cars, and that is the faltering business of concept cars.
Every year, automakers spend millions building full-size, one-off concept cars to market-test new ideas, showcase design potential, experiment with new technologies, and just get people excited about the next big thing. These are showcases of what a company can do when they’re free from pesky constraints like crash regulations and mass production budgets. Most never end up in showrooms, at least not without significant compromises, but that’s not the primary goal. The aim is to push boundaries, observe outcomes, and leverage insights for the cars of the future.
Historically, this approach has functioned quite well. An outstanding concept car can convert someone into a lifelong brand loyalist, and you can trace almost every feature of a new vehicle in 2026 back through initial concepts over the decades. But we cover many concept car unveils on the Drive, and in recent years, I’ve noticed a shift. They no longer possess that magical allure for the public. Outside of rare standout examples, they often incite frustration. Too many screens, excessive technology, unattractive design, too clinical, not enough cylinders—take your pick.
And sure, people love to vent online; it’s the nature of the internet. But something more significant is happening. Concept cars offer a tangible glimpse into the future, and 20 or 30 years ago, they were crafted to explore a broader spectrum of hopeful ideas about what that future could entail. Currently, the automotive future feels constrained, bleak, more costly, and increasingly dominated by software. Automakers have reduced the number of concepts they create since CGI renders are so much cheaper, and the ones that are being produced primarily aim to tackle the substantial challenges posed by electrification and self-driving technologies. A significant convergence is underway.
I’m generalizing here, as not every concept is a bulky crossover or an autonomous electric vehicle. Some impressive designs are still being produced—take a look at the Mazda Iconic SP or recent concepts from Genesis. But overall, the confidence that concept cars will lead to better, more desirable production vehicles is at an all-time low.
And here’s why this poses a problem. The signal that a concept car is meant to send to both manufacturers and consumers is weakening. When people feel compelled to respond to concepts with skepticism because they symbolize fears about the future rather than hope, the market research component collapses. When automakers can’t retrieve accurate data from such responses, their objectives crumble. And if companies create fewer bold concepts because it seems like a waste of resources, the singular opportunity for dialogue about the design, function, and representation of future cars contracts increasingly. It’s possible that this could end entirely, and then where would that leave the entire industry?
Anyway, I have been pondering this quite a bit earlier this year, but thankfully for you and me, I don’t have to wonder if car manufacturers are concerned about this. I can simply ask them, which I did. Over the last few months, I had conversations with five leading car designers from Honda, Toyota, Stellantis, Hyundai, and GM—all of whom have contributed to significant concept cars—to gain insider knowledge about the state of concepts today: what they believe is effective, what isn’t, and if there’s a way out of this situation.
We just released a comprehensive video summarizing all those interviews on our YouTube channel today, but they were truly engaging conversations. So, here on the podcast, we are sharing the full version of my discussion with Jon Ikeda, the former head of design at Acura. He’s quite candid. He certainly didn’t hold back on the mistakes he’s witnessed and made himself, why concepts are tougher to nail these days, but also why he believes they are more crucial than ever if the industry seeks to refine their output. I think you’re going to enjoy this one. Alright, let’s get into it.
Jon: So, my name is Jon Ikeda. Currently, I’m at Honda Racing Corporation, overseeing business development, but I have a long-standing history with Honda, this being my 36th year, man. Wow, 36 years. But 25 of those were focused on car design. I had the chance to learn design in Japan for six years—my first six years were in Japan—before returning here to the states at Torrance, where many Acuras and Hondas are produced. I may have complained a bit too much about the sales team, and they shifted me over to become General Manager of Sales in Acura. But I’ve been involved with the sales side for quite some time, yes.
Kyle: Do you still see yourself as a designer? If you had to sum up your identity in one word, would you say, “designer”?
Jon: I would say yes, I still identify that way. Well, perhaps I think of myself more as a creative individual. I’m not one to crunch Excel sheets for sales figures or monthly reports, you know? I find it challenging to engage that analytical side. If I’m sitting in a meeting, I find myself doodling, you know? It’s my way of focusing. So often, I walk away with a lot of “Can I have your doodles?” type of requests, you know, whatever, yes. But that’s just who I am.
Kyle: Having demand for your doodles speaks to something significant. So, my first question is, in your view, both from your time as a designer and your time leading Acura, what is the true value of concept cars or show cars for automakers today, especially compared to 25, 30, or 35 years ago when you first began? You have the ROI considerations of marketing potential, R&D creative space, and feedback from potential consumers. Where do you believe the primary value lies?
Jon: I think you have identified all of the value points—the logical perspective. In other words, let’s test some ideas, showcase them to the market, gauge reactions, and gather data points. But it’s also about trying something new as a designer, and if things resonate well, that allows engineers time to develop something that could evolve into a new vehicle, etc.
From a pure designer’s perspective—and I’m aware others may have different viewpoints—this serves as a great opportunity for increased creative freedom because it’s a singular effort. A custom hot rod might illustrate this well, but you have the chance to invest time and allow yourself to express ideas that someone might have told you, “you can’t,” you know? It unhinges options. And especially when you’re just starting, having the chance to work on show cars and genuinely express your ideas is liberating for designers. There are various reasons behind it, but selfishly, from a designer’s standpoint, it’s a creative playground, yeah.
Kyle: Which of these do you think provides the most value to automakers, though?
Jon: I would argue all of them do, you know? It’s vital to grant designers some creative liberties because out of that—and when we say freedom to express oneself, part of it is just sheer naivety since a rookie fresh out of school may not know how to piece a production vehicle together, right? However, it’s industrial design, so there are parameters needed to fabricate a real vehicle from it. You might lack constraints, yet, that naivety allows you to explore boundaries that a seasoned designer who has gone through numerous iterations might self-restrict, fearing, “Oh, that can’t be done.” It slowly begins to hamper creativity, you know? So, from a value perspective for an OEM, they seek new ideas, right? And it is essential for each OEM to allow their creative personnel some leeway from time to time to discover what they could create that’s new. I believe that new element holds significant value, yes.
Kyle: That’s something I’ve heard before—that to create a truly emotional, impactful, and lasting production vehicle, a designer must hone their skills on concept cars. It’s an essential part of a designer’s growth.
Jon: Indeed, it is. I’ve had the honor to meet some legendary design figures from the past, you know? For example, Larry Shinoda, who crafted the Corvette, was engaged with numerous fascinating show cars from Detroit General Motors back in the day. I remember a night at a bar when he briefly befriended me, and we discussed his favorite among these incredible show cars. He specifically mentioned enjoying the Monza GT he designed, saying it was his favorite due to the execution and ideas behind it.
Now, when speaking with someone like Giorgetto Giugiaro, and asking, “What’s your favorite design of all time?”, you might expect him to highlight a sports car or a show car, but he mentions the Volkswagen Rabbit. This took me by surprise, but he sounded like a true industrial designer speaking about it. He explained they aspired to develop something to replace the Beetle, basically a global vehicle, and to see such a vehicle receive widespread acceptance internationally made him feel fulfilled as a car designer. So, it ultimately depends on the individual and their interests at that specific time, yielding two completely different perspectives from two truly remarkable designers.
Kyle: That’s genuinely fascinating. Personally, I have always appreciated when a car’s form arises from its function, but I see less of that lately. I mean, crossovers are everywhere because folks need to transport families and gear, but there’s something about how clean the lines on such vehicles can be that I find appealing.
Jon: Yes, it appears clean. It is straightforward and notably challenging to execute, yes.
Kyle: Yet today’s concept cars are frequently anything but simple. How costly is it—I’m aware we are referring to the present and you’ve stepped away from the studio for some time—but what are the expenses involved in creating a functional show car? Whether fully designed inside and out or simply having electric motors for mobility?
Jon: Wow, yes, it is quite expensive. However, I notice a trend post-BEV push, which is the simplification of interior designs. Back in the day, you had gauges and dials that needed to be crafted physically, showcasing uniqueness and playfulness from an interior design viewpoint, which I thought was necessary. But nowadays, things have become much simpler and more open, featuring panels and screens, and much of the engagement with a driver is now digital. They can choose colors, gauge types, and font sizes, allowing for heightened customization due to technological advancements overall. The interior space itself has simplified, you know? I believe there are fewer buttons. Hence, I would confidently say, time-wise, creating today’s show car interiors likely requires less labor than before when you had 50 buttons and so forth. Of course, with new vehicles, detailing and such can still consume considerable time. Yet technologies such as 3D printing have emerged, facilitating things that were previously complex. So, I imagine, factoring in inflation and all, it might even out, but producing show cars in the past may have actually incurred greater costs in terms of labor, I believe.
Kyle: Yes, that makes sense. I can visualize that. Simultaneously, though, we just mentioned that designing a show car is crucial for a designer’s growth. Do you think that the increased necessity to invest time on the interior to align with what was trendy back then compared to today, where there’s simply less to tackle, is problematic? Or is it a part of making modern interiors feel more emotive and impactful?
Jon: Well, I believe it’s merely a variation in aesthetics and ambiance. And if I stated this as an exterior designer, the interior designers watching would likely argue, “He doesn’t comprehend anything.” No, there’s a lot more focus on elements that may have previously lacked attention designed to enhance inside experiences. Today, considerations like aromas and ceiling lighting to create mood are underscored, which perhaps weren’t prioritized with older show cars. But the way individuals perceive themselves inside the vehicle now holds considerable importance, right? It absolutely does. Plus, new tools are prominent. I’ve been away for quite some time, and I see how presentations are conducted now—completely different. Presentations now involve moving visuals to convey a sense of driving experience. Many of us relied on sketches; we illustrated everything. Our pre-internet Google was to spend hours in a bookstore searching through magazines for the appropriate images to cut out and stick onto a poster board to create concept boards. So yes, advancements are obvious. And certainly, with the information readily available today, young designers can discover much more unique solutions compared to prior times, yes.
Kyle: Your career as a designer and then brand manager for Acura occurred alongside the internet’s evolution into the primary communication method. The way most individuals now encounter a concept car is mainly through images or video online. Magazines are comparable, but we all acknowledge that consuming media through that avenue has changed. Auto shows have also significantly declined. Do you believe this adjustment alters how a concept car is developed, knowing most people will view it online instead of in person, and that the physical presence won’t play as substantial a role?
Jon: I don’t believe any designer approaches it from that standpoint. At the end of the day, there’s nothing like the real thing. Countless times I’ve seen something online, thought, “Eh, that’s a bit odd,” only to see it later at Monterey Car Week or somewhere and realize, “Wow, this is entirely different from what I initially perceived,” right? The comments keep flowing because many individuals can’t view the unique concept cars traveling the globe, and they can’t make it to their location. So they heavily rely on images and content. However, it’s always striking to me how, “Yeah, that’s not what I thought upon seeing it.” And sometimes it could even work in reverse; it might appear stunning on screen, then in real life it doesn’t resonate as much. It can swing either way but, yes, it remains a physical object, a 3D reality.
Kyle: We’re discussing show cars accessible to the public. Behind you is a design study that wasn’t created for public view until it landed in a museum. What are the logistical and creative approaches taken when crafting something for internal audiences versus something intended for public presentation? Because I look at that and think it could have been displayed at an auto show.
Jon: Yes, absolutely. It’s intriguing sometimes; it can go both ways. You create internally because you seek alignment. You’re attempting to build a brand, establish a certain aesthetic and feel that your design team wants to target. You’ve got designers working on an SUV, sedan, or whatever it may be, variants of vehicles, but you want them tied to a theme so that none are entirely disparate except for the grill or something, you know? It sets a long-term vision for internal teams, guiding them towards what they should aim to achieve in the upcoming years.
For this car to reach its final form, what it represents is an inside-outside mockup. Several other designers were competing, and this design won out as the theme model for the ten-year vision, right? As you work on an MDX, RDX, or another Acura vehicle, you recognize, “Hey, there are nice subtleties here that aren’t evident in this car. We should try to incorporate more of that.” It acts as a talking point, but it helps steer a direction, ensuring it doesn’t diverge too far in 50 distinct directions, you know? It aids in managing a cohesive brand image and identity for a while.
Kyle: Fascinating. So, was there a competition among designers to create something that would remain unseen by the public but help establish the brand’s future trajectory?
Jon: Yes, indeed, it’s for our use. Now, if it receives widespread appreciation like this design did, they might choose not to let it leave the studio, or they may say, “It’s so impressive; we need to showcase it, let’s put it on display.” So, it ultimately boils down to decisions over time, you know? I recall interning in Detroit; there must have been a million designs at Tech Center, you know, at General Motors that never made it public. Incredible designs, sketches, and concepts from the ’80s and ’90s that every OEM undoubtedly possesses. Some manage to emerge, while others do not. But for those frequently around it, it simply becomes part of the landscape. It’s akin to returning to school. Yes, you know, that belongs to Jimmy or James, or whatever. It’s part of what they do.
Kyle: It’s astonishing to contemplate how many designs, as you just noted, have never been revealed and may remain concealed throughout history, waiting to be discovered someday or brought back to the public. But perhaps they’ll remain undiscovered, and we’ll just never know. Amazing.
Jon: Yes, indeed. I’m sure there are plenty of recollections of various designers and people from different companies saying, “Yeah, there was this one that was wild,” or whatever. However, a unique aspect of designers is that, if you have a napkin and a pen at a bar, it may resemble this, and they can sketch it out. “No way!” you know? It’s like, “Really? Yeah, we were attempting to create that,” you know? But yes, I am confident there are many such ideas circulated around the world.
Kyle: You referenced concepts emerging from Detroit in the ’80s, and before we started recording, you mentioned Japanese concepts from the ’90s. Something I’ve heard from multiple sources is that many believe show and concept cars from that time were significantly more joyful and diverse, representing a broader selection of ideas compared to today. There seems to be a convergence happening, both in style and the objectives of these cars. Why do you think that is?
Jon: This is merely my personal opinion, right? I’m sure there are various factors, but when I was in school, if I wanted to know what someone in Italy was doing, or someone in France, or Germany, I needed to find a magazine published by a Japanese print house called Car Styling. They released these volumes every month or so, focusing on a specific vehicle from a studio, featuring concept stories, clay model photographs, and sketches they produced. You’d flip through and think, “Wow, this is exceptional,” or whatever.
I think today, with information being easily accessible, it’s challenging for designers to be the sole individuals who discover an idea they find intriguing. There are countless individuals examining it, and what’s considered cool becomes widely replicated. Before you know it, elements from that “coolness” end up in another sketch or concept. Perhaps it simply starts to merge over time. Why did cars from the ’30s, ’40s, and ’50s exhibit such distinctive designs based on their country of origin? Yet, you know Ferrari remains Ferrari, and Porsche stays Porsche, right? And even with Honda, we continue to remain true to our identity, and BMW also strives to uphold their essence. Yet, this becomes increasingly complex. The inspiration points sprawled everywhere. It’s just universal, and many designs I previously admired left me wondering, “How did they devise that idea? That’s so unique and innovative. I need to delve further into British automotive history,” as someone might say, “Have you ever examined the contour of a fender on a D-Type Jag? Have you truly looked?” You might overlook certain shapes unless you physically interact with them. But once again, it becomes challenging; it’s no longer easily accessible to appreciate the specifics like it may have been in the past. Yet, automobile fans are seeking to absorb inspiration, right? Perhaps there’s a melding of thought processes occurring? Not that it’s necessarily good or bad, as what’s cool remains appealing, you know? So, um, yes.
Kyle: I believe you’re correct that the intentionality required to seek out creative inspiration was different in a different media landscape. Now, across any creative field, there is a convergence occurring as everyone can access any concept they desire. However, I wish to propose a theory to you and hear if you agree.
Jon: Sure.
Kyle: I believe that especially during the ’80s and ’90s, the disparity between what was feasible and what was in production at the time was notably vast, particularly regarding tech and interior advancements. I’m aware you’re an exterior designer by trade, but screens weren’t integrated into vehicles yet, so including a screen in a concept car seemed revolutionary. Furthermore, the sense of possibility concerning where cars could progress seemed more expansive. Nowadays, you have as much technology as possible crammed in, focusing more on how to present that tech rather than introducing an entirely new notion. Consequently, it might give the impression that a concept car symbolizes less of a bridge toward the future.
Jon: Vehicles used to embody the essence of futurism, correct? They were the closest attempt to create something akin to a humanoid robot. They’re machines, yet they carry a certain character. For car enthusiasts like you and me, there’s that element, right? Now, numerous alternate forms reflect those aspirations as well, right? If you’re not an automotive enthusiast, consider the shift you mentioned with auto shows. CES garners a massive following regarding what advancements the future holds, right? For valid reasons. Society is evolving, and technology is evolving, all while mobility remains integral to it. So, where does the automobile fit within that landscape? Yes. Auto shows used to be the highlight, and then car companies began presenting at CES, right? Consequently, a merger is naturally occurring from an evolutionary standpoint.
And the challenging aspect is consumer expectations surrounding technology overall, ranging from phones to tablets or whatever it may offer. This leads to the mindset, “How can my car match that?” For individuals like myself who drive an Integra Type S manually, you know, I’m a caveman, truly. I am that guy. When conversing with friends, I often compare it to the era when automobiles were introduced, and individuals were told, “The days of horses are over.” The person on horseback might retort, “There are no roads, and it eats grass, can drink from a river, and we can keep moving.” Mhm. But it didn’t take long for infrastructure to adapt, allowing cars to become the premier mobility device from point A to B. And throughout that evolution, technology will continually progress, enhancing mobility for everyone. Some of that mobility will be autonomous. Yet, humans can be quite finicky, especially here in the US. We cherish our vehicles and the associated freedom, and it’s simply part of the journey, I believe.
Kyle: Yes, we love our cars in a specific manner, that’s for sure. It’s amusing you brought up future mobility because I also think there’s a distinct challenge in designing a concept car that truly resonates when attempting to demonstrate self-driving technology; this is an abstract concept in a non-functional concept car paired with EVs. It’s intriguing since most concept cars from the past typically designated ICE powertrains, yet they still maintained a wild aesthetic, implying they adhered to the same production constraints as conventional vehicles. But with an EV, those limitations often wane, which could mean the shape holds less significance in terms of translation into the final product? Do you think I’m off track there?
Jon: No, I think once everything transitions to BEV, all right, there’s no engine to consider, right? Thus, the entire packaging framework transforms. We converse about concepts such as in-wheel motors or skateboard batteries. Certainly, all components begin to shift, allowing for architectural redesign. The single aspect likely remaining unchanged is the seating and humans—they’ll still reside in these vehicles. I desired more dramatic transformations but, fundamentally, safety concerns are paramount. Fundamentally, just safety concerns that you can’t bypass will always dictate the architecture.
Now, it fascinates me that certain successful transitions, like, I’ll simply state it, the Teslas, the originals, were visually appealing. They made a strong choice. You see, when designing something unprecedented, I spoken with colleagues. If you push too far into uncharted territory, you’re making what could be a life-altering decision for the owner. They might still inhabit environments resembling their old lifestyles as structures remain unchanged, and what’s the suitable transition?
Exterior designers will tell you it all revolves around proportions. It’s not merely about how the sheet metal bends or the headlight shapes. It’s the fundamental proportions of the vehicle that determine if people regard it as visually appealing. For instance, consider the wheelbase’s relation to its height and width. A point of dialogue I always bring up is the cowl height of a vehicle. The cowl establishes everything—lowering it allows for a more gradual seat height and roofline. It generally leads to a lower hood, which likely won’t extend straight. Your fender may likely drop, necessitating a double wishbone suspension or something equivalent, right? This ultimately determines how large your wheel arch is and the overall dimensions of your wheel and tire.
When examining Japanese vehicles, particularly those from the late 80s or 90s, you might ponder why they appear so attractive despite having 15-inch rims. That’s a fair question. Since the cowl heights on Hondas and Acuras are relatively low, they didn’t need to accommodate pedestrian safety elements, correct? Not particularly safe, but regulations were different. In contrast, with the current climate of pedestrian safety and other necessities, vehicle cowls have risen, mandating higher hoods, additional clearance for engine heights and safety features. As a result, fenders become bulkier, necessitating larger wheels and tires. This is precisely why many concept cars appear equipped with gigantic wheels.
And not only that, but design aspects like vertically aligned headlights become crucial for filling front-end spaces, as seen in cars where Honda has opted for traditional aesthetics. I find it highly intriguing that you highlighted the cowl establishing dimensions and shapes as it must have factored into why Hondas maintain a classic appearance.
Jon: Well, it’s increasingly difficult for everyone, right? The cowl begins to rise, your engine and other components must align with specific benchmarks, so the hood will sit higher than desired. Ultimately, you might wind up complicating it with bulges surrounding the engine or choose to pull the headlights as low as possible to enhance your vehicle’s visual profile. Plus, when working with horizontal features, creating an impression of width becomes simpler. In contrast, vertical design elements seldom elicit a feeling of expansiveness in vehicles. Thus, all these elements constitute designer tricks employed worldwide to present their vehicles despite the stringent parameters they must meet, executing the desired aesthetic. So, if you visit a beauty salon and the stylist remarks, “Oh, you have a large head, Jon. It would be better if you had longer hair.” They might even suggest cutting it a certain way to soften your appearance. But then you pull everything back, and suddenly it’s, “Wow, you have a full face.” Such manipulations are what adept car designers encounter continuously, striving to create the look they envision, maintaining the balance between sketches and actual show cars.
Kyle: It’s amusing to consider the relationship between designing concepts and reconciling that with the tenacity of functionality and production requirements. For instance, the Precision Driving concept Acura showcased in 2016 clearly embodied the look of a show car; its proportions weren’t realistic for production. However, you see many of those design traits in the Type S concept, then in TLX and Integra. I’m curious, during its development, was there a moment of realization that, “Oh no, we have to figure out how to make this work for production while adhering to all the necessary requirements,” or was it less of a focus at that time, and you simply figured it out? The low cowl, for instance, seems like a distinctive and ambitious element there.
Jon: That’s the profound challenge when transitioning a show car to production. The dilemma is that when not confined by constraints, you can dream big; designs can be elevated to new heights without limit and thus look spectacular. Yet, embedding these into a production model means adhering to a myriad of regulatory requirements, and if you wander too far from those confines without utilizing techniques we discussed earlier, you could face significant challenges. Often we recently rolled out production versions after having created astoundingly remarkable show cars, raising the question of why production looks dissimilar. It’s often a consequence of exceeding thresholds for manufacturing capabilities or feasibility—sure, one can develop a singular unit, but if you’re pursuing to sell 50,000 units per annum, there’s a steel stamping line at stake. It necessitates an adequate amount of minutes on that line while ensuring workers can meticulously assemble components to maintain production flow. You have a plethora of considerations—engineering, production needs—all of which must be accounted for, coupled with approval processes in factories, including all our various branches at Honda, GM, or any other OEMs. And sometimes, success emerges from collaboration when an engineer proclaims, “I’ve got a solution.”
Kyle: Solutions can indeed be found.
Jon: Absolutely, yes.
Kyle: What’s your personal reaction to critiques suggesting, “Oh, the concept car looks phenomenal, but they ruined it in production?” Is it off-putting to you as a designer, or is it something you brush off?
Jon: No, some individuals may take the time to elucidate on the reasons behind it, you know? That’s fair, and you can intuit when someone’s merely seeking to provoke on social media. It’s mindless but their prerogative. If you happen to be a automotive designer without thick skin… you should reconsider this profession. Truly, you’re in the wrong line of endeavor. Crafting a vehicle requires a substantial investment of five to six years of one’s life, from a mere napkin sketch to watching it roll off the production line. It’s a lifelong commitment—often the more passionate the involvement, the closer the final product aligns with the original vision, you know?
Contextually, it’s akin to parenting; you create a child and cherish them, only for someone to suggest your child isn’t appealing. You can comprehend how personal that might feel, right? It’s an experience many designers undergo. Conversely, when you achieve success, you feel accomplished. However, the inverse experience is equally real.
Kyle: It’s a part of engaging in any public-facing endeavor. We witness similar scenarios; we might create an article that resonates strongly—people respond, “Oh my gosh, this is brilliant, we adore it!”—while on another, reactions might be, “You guys are appalling, I can’t believe I committed five minutes to your content.” It’s akin to, “Well, okay, thanks for those five minutes, I guess.” What can we truly do?
Jon: There have been instances at Acura where negative narratives have circulated regarding my tenure, such as “killjonikeda.com.” Just amusingly, I became a meme from the Integra introduction process. Our execution didn’t fit the bill, I admit. Amid this frenzy, we understood well that the Integra and NSX were products imbued with genuine emotional connections for many owners. Thus, when we reintroduced them, there was anticipation akin to, “What will it be like? Will it live up to those past experiences?” Cars elicit strong sentiments. Over time, I hope not everyone harbors resentment; conversely, I wish to believe that many will recognize how well the Integra, for instance, has been crafted by teams that cherished their work. I’m proud of this vehicle and enjoy driving it because I appreciate the individuals behind its creation. All those intricate details matter, but does it reflect the DC2 model? No. It’s a different era.
Kyle: How could you have executed that introduction differently?
Jon: Perhaps through more favorable camera angles? As we discussed earlier. Indeed, the angles were quite high, and they opted for live YouTube streaming without informing me we’d engage live; I imagined we’d edit the footage prior. Unfortunately, the angles weren’t ideal. The global audience eagerly awaited the reveal, and it culminated in a disappointment. It is candid; the reaction felt authentic. I even sent the meme to my child. Their immediate response was simply, “Bro.” Not necessarily a compliment. However, I do value the time people dedicated to articulating their feelings toward the vehicle. Yet, even a year later, our revived Integra was awarded North American Car of the Year, which says something about why people genuinely engage with its return.
Kyle: Change can be tough for people. When you reintroduce a name like that, it’s inevitable that it will not resemble its predecessor, and even with better angles, sentiments might not have shifted much. Yes, indeed. One project that piques my interest is the ASCC, the front-engine NSX successor concept that never came to fruition.
Jon: Yes, the car that was never realized, except as a racetrack model, of course.
Kyle: Right, exactly. The front-engine NSX concept you designed back in 2008 or 09—although the NSX name wasn’t explicitly mentioned during its revealing, its insinuation was clear. That recession impacted the project, but you were essentially attempting to reinvent an iconic name in response to new regulations with a wholly different format. Can you recount that experience and what you garnered from it?
Jon: The timing was intriguing, as the NSX is iconic. We understood this concept might evolve into something significant. The engine was undoubtedly stellar. But this was a front-engine project. Therefore, from a design standpoint, our focus was on showcasing that FR proportion. We wanted to sidestep misinterpreting this as a mid-engine NSX. As a show car, the emphasis was to be clean; if we moved ahead with the program, we would confront challenges down the line. Simplicity was crucial, but an FR orientation was impossible to ignore.
The styling exercise required us to be clear that it would be an FR vehicle, unquestionably. People had critiques; the NSX is inherently mid-engine, but that’s the direction the company pursued then. As designers, our duty was to optimize what we envisioned for the show car, anticipating that audiences would finally appreciate its depth once they heard its engine roar.
Kyle: If only we had that opportunity, right? That would be incredible.
Jon: They will appreciate it when they hear it. Yet, regarding design, our primary goal was to present an FR concept.
Kyle: It’s rather amusing how the timelines overlap; this concept never transitioned into full production, yet stylistically it mirrored Acura’s design cues at the time, drifting from setting a new 10-year vision, similar to the one behind you.
Jon: Certainly, you can see how elements carried over. Many years were spent reconciling the front-facing imagery of our vehicles. Every OEM extensively deliberated their character or grille design. This influenced elements implemented in the NSX as we considered what key aspects we wanted to integrate into its design. I can certainly state that the break point featured within this design endured persistently, still remaining relevant, having originated from a show car—a model that transitioned into what became the original CL. The variation between a show car and a production vehicle can be incredibly close or yet quite distant, which is evident in the lobby where displays intertwine with the realities of crafting an exceptional vehicle at Marysville, yes. We should check it out.
Kyle: It’s quite regrettable to think many pour their efforts into projects, only for them to be unveiled momentarily and then either destroyed or remain unseen. They invest in it earnestly, yet without public acknowledgment or appreciation. How’s that affect you after exerting energy designing a concept that may fade into obscurity?
Jon: It greatly depends on the designer’s character. However, one saying that holds true is that nothing ages faster than last year’s show car.
Kyle: Is that perhaps the reason we don’t observe many retro concept cars? There was a brief surge in the ’90s and 2000s, yet most concepts don’t reference the past meaningfully.
Jon: Retro references can yield successes while some fall short in my assessment. This is similar to the Integra scenario; if you attempt to replicate exactly, the outcome could be challenging. So much online may appear incredible, but if I tasked you with revealing true safety paradigms, crash zones, and all functional expectations, it wouldn’t resemble your appealing imagery. Nonetheless, I understand the excitement surrounding it; there are certainly opportunities to innovate and explore boundaries, but it should prioritize a contemporary representation.
Kyle: Were there any designs of the Integra with circular headlights at any stage, or was that never a reality?
Jon: I may not have seen it, but I would bet someone sketched it; some designer in Japan or here certainly drew it, I guarantee you.
Kyle: It would have been interesting to witness that. Yes, it would have been indeed. Yet I grasp the forward emphasis, as you noted, particularly given the project’s approach.
Jon: It’s amusing to note how, when the American iteration featured circular headlights, the Japanese variant did not. Kids there coveted the round lamps, while children here desired their counterparts. Each person longs for what’s absent, often.
Kyle: Is there a concept from your history that you regret not pushing through or one you have affection for that you wish you could claim as your own?
Jon: Personally, no. While it would be lovely for someone to drive it home, I prefer the excitement of various remarkable show cars. There are countless fascinating designs. Walking through Tech Center as an intern was genuinely mind-boggling! An exciting aspect was how each studio maintained its own room, but access was restricted. Designers traversed this central corridor to reach their studios. Within the T-intersection, studios showcased every design in 1/3 scale—they could be concepts from Buick, Pontiac, or any other brand, something utterly fascinating, right? As you observe various designs, some indeed might appear peculiar. You might find yourself incredulous, “That looks strange.” The ones that pushed boundaries often ended up parked there. The underlying logic was simple; after ten days of exposure, if most designers continued to find it too eccentric, then it was indeed unconventional. However, if after that period, half began to say, “You know, it’s growing on me,” then there was potential merit in it. Those were delightful exercises.
Kyle: It’s intriguing to consider the response to a concept car as relative to its feasibility, compared to designs that are distinctly unattainable, such as Audi’s stretchable wheelbase concept presented in 2019. It seems outlandish to expect such technology anytime soon; for many, it serves as a distraction. Such a disconnect may alter public perception of standard and likely concepts.
Jon: Indeed, the line between practicality and creativity often becomes blurred. If a concept resonates widely, it may not come off as innovative enough; if many laud it, perhaps that hints at its lack of originality. So, when developing concepts, striking that trust balance becomes paramount.
Kyle: Acura has largely maintained a steady course, steering clear of outrageous concepts. The projects I recall over the last 15 years commonly remain rooted in reality.
Jon: Both good and bad. It’d be great to produce some unconventional show cars; it’s beneficial to experiment. Just permit some creative outbursts—let’s envision what 20 years ahead may look like. Let’s allow that creativity to flow; it’s absolutely permissible. I initially stated this at the beginning, but it’s essential. It’s equally essential for designers to have that freedom to explore. Regretfully, that transition from show car to production has evolved from “amazing” to… you know, let’s stave off that sentiment; salespeople would echo that refrain constantly. Yes, we’ve gathered plenty of feedback; let’s move forward accordingly.
Kyle: Considering the concerns presented, do you anticipate the concept cars’ significance to evolve in the upcoming 10 to 20 years, or will it essentially retain its relevance? Regardless of how it may be expressed, will it still hold importance for the automotive industry, designers, and consumers?
Jon: I believe it remains significant. It must always hold importance as a means for designers to immerse in pure expression. When you see concepts, their essence is original, right? That idea plays into the Pareto principle; out of all concepts, 80% may be unviable ideas, yet without exploring, you would never uncover those 20% gems. Right? That would be remarkable. As someone who has been a director and even chief designers in the past, you must permit young designers to unleash their creativity. You cannot simply be the one issuing “no” responses. Lacking the openness to new concepts or ideas leads to stagnation in creativity. You would overlook huge opportunities. Yes, many will be uninspired, but some will absolutely captivate. This churn is necessary—things can’t remain static.
Kyle: That’s it, indeed.
Jon: That’s the crux of it? All right.
Kyle: Yes, that’s it. I believe we could converse for hours…
Jon: Yes, yes, perhaps we can enjoy a martini or a beer instead. Yes, that sounds good. Tackling this sober? Oh, dear.
Kyle: That wraps this week’s Drivecast episode. Many thanks to Jon for the engaging discussion, Honda for allowing him candidness—not that Jon ever required any permissions, as you likely gathered—our editor Tyler Mark, and, of course, thanks to you for tuning in.
Be sure to check out our YouTube channel for the complete video featuring conversations with other designers, and stay tuned as more extended interview snippets will be released in the coming week. Let us know if you enjoyed the episode by contributing your thoughts below or emailing feedback at thedrive.com. Although I have no ambition for this to become solely a concept car podcast, we could certainly drop another long-format interview here if enough people express interest.
If you appreciate our content, please take a minute to give us a five-star rating on Spotify or Apple Podcasts. It genuinely assists in getting the Drivecast noticed by a broader audience. Additionally, remember to visit thedrive.com for more stories about Joel’s close encounters with law enforcement, subscribe to our excellent newsletters—free of charge, too—follow us on Instagram and Facebook, and while you’re on YouTube, hit that subscribe button while checking out our videos. Joel is absent, so there’s no quip regarding my hair, but yes, in case you were wondering, I do have spectacular hair, you can see that there, too.
All right, we’ll catch you next week. Farewell, everyone.