#spoilers

A 2022 Honda Civic Hatchback test mule was spotted in Columbus, Ohio, sporting some of the most unnecessarily aggressive automotive camouflage in recent memory. But the thick black cladding wasn’t enough to mask what the 11th Gen Civic Forum immediately identified as a rear spoiler.

Historically, most of Honda’s design previews have been so close to the finished product that most of us don’t even bother referencing them as concept vehicles anymore. They’re akin to a final draft with a few embellishments that are likely to be toned down before anything hits the assembly line. But the 11th-generation Civic Sedan Concept came out looking like a Honda’s attempt at building the Volkswagen Jetta, leaving the manufacturer with a shortage of radical design cues to scale back.

Plymouth Superbird. Lamborghini Countach. BMW 3.0 CSL. A80 Toyota Supra. Ford Escort Cosworth. Acura Integra Type R. Subaru Impreza WRX STI.

Some cars are indellibly linked with the rear wing that sat atop their trunklids. In some cases, the spoilers weren’t mandatory, but in your mind’s eye, you always envision the WRX STI and Countach with large aerodynamic addenda.

Certainly not every edition of the Porsche 911 is fitted with a rear wing. But from ducktails to speed-sensitive units to gigantic struts supporting flat planes, the Porsche 911’s shape has been connected to additional rear bodywork for decades. The faster the 911, the more likely you were to find an extra piece affixed to the “911” above its engine.

But times, they are a-changin’. And in an attempt to mute the 2018 Porsche 911 GT3 for a mature, purist clientele, a new Touring Package deletes the GT3’s fixed rear wing and forces the fitment of a six-speed manual transmission.

Touring Package cost?

Last week, our own Doug DeMuro asked the B&B for their opinion on the stupidest automotive feature. He then gave his personal opinion as to what that feature might be. I’m here to tell you why he’s completely wrong, and why he’s probably also completely right.

There is no better way to ruin a car than by putting a spoiler on it. Don’t believe me? Picture any mainstream road car with and without a wing. Which one looks better? I think the answer looks obvious.

In our Mitsubishi Eclipse gen1 CC, it was noted that few have survived a certain process of modifications that I have now dubbed being “Eclipsed-Out”. This gen2 example seems well on the way, but it certainly hasn’t arrived at its end-state yet. Interestingly, I have found several more stock gen 1 Eclipses, but hardly an stock gen2s.

[Note: A significantly expanded and updated version of this article is here]

For most of the fifties, sixties and into the early seventies, automotive aerodynamicists were mostly non-existent, or hiding in their wind tunnels. The original promise and enthusiasm of aerodynamics was discarded as just another style fad, and gave way to less functional styling gimmicks tacked unto ever larger bricks. But the energy crisis of 1974 suddenly put the lost science in the spotlight again. And although historic low oil prices temporarily put them on the back burner, as boxy SUVs crashed through the air, it appears safe to say that the slippery science has finally found its place in the forefront of automotive design.

Is there a clinical definition for the compulsion to fit every possible exterior accessory to one’s car? J C Whitney Syndrome?

I’ve just returned from one of the most fruitful CC hunting trips ever; nabbed some awesome vintage finds. But I’m always scanning the road for anything of interest, increasing the likelihood that I’ll eventually rear-end someone. Would anyone else find interest in these three cars parked by the U of O? But repeated patterns like this somehow grab me: same maker, similar vintage, all of them spoiled. Am I losing it? My wife wants to know, because she has her doubts.