Life was much better when cars had dials and simple dashboards, rather than touch screens and haptics, reckons Cowland.
I remember the first time I slid behind the wheel of my Dad’s Mk3 Ford Cortina. It was the late ‘70s, and I was barely tall enough to see over the dash without perching on my Nan’s favourite cushion. But what a dash it was! A simple slab of vinyl with a handful of proper, clicky switches and a cluster of dials that looked like they’d been lifted straight from a Cessna cockpit. Twist the key, ‘Only to the accessory position, Paul!’ and those needles would busily twitch into life, telling you everything you needed to know at a glance. No menus, no swipes, no voice commands yelling back at you like a stroppy passenger. Just you, the road, and a straightforward exchange of information with your car.
Fast forward to today, and I was recently strafing down the motorway in some shiny new EV. It was a perfectly pleasant drive and experience, but I never think it’s a good thing when the instruments are considerably smarter than you are. Although, some might argue, in my case, that’s a very low bar to start with.
You know the kind of car. The type where the “dashboard” is merely a floating iPad that’s larger than your television at home. Want to adjust the air con? Poke the screen. Fancy some music? Swipe left, tap right, and pray you don’t accidentally summon the service menu. And don’t get me started on those haptic buttons-those pretend clicks that feel about as satisfying as high-fiving fog. One wrong prod while you’re dodging a lorry, and suddenly your heated seats are roasting your backside, when all you wanted was to listen to the rest of ‘Gardener’s Question Time’. Brilliant.
Look, I’m not some Luddite yearning for the days of red flags, handle-start engines and asbestos brakes. I get the appeal of tech. I spend most of my day creating content on my phone, and when it comes to route-finding, I’ve long been happy to swap my A-Z for my WAZE, but when it comes to cars, there’s something soul-stirring about those analogue dials. They’re tactile, they’re honest, and they don’t distract you from the main event: driving.
Remember the Smiths gauges in a classic MGB? Oil pressure, fuel, speedo, all laid out like a well-organised toolbox. You could flick your eyes down for a split second and know if your engine was happy or about relieve itself of coolant, all over your chosen route. No lag, no glare from the sun turning the screen into a mirror, just pure, unfiltered information.
Contrast that with modern setups. I’ve driven EVs where the speedo is tucked away in a corner of the touchscreen like an afterthought. And heaven help you if the software glitches, or decides to perform an ‘Over the Air’ update during your journey. Suddenly, you’re piloting a £50k brick with a frozen display, blindly guessing your destiny while the haptic feedback buzzes like an irate vespid.
Sure, they say it’s “minimalist” and “futuristic,” but to me, these days, it feels like they’ve stripped the personality out of the cockpit. Cars used to have character in their controls. The satisfying thunk of a heater lever in a Beetle, or the precise needle sweep in a Porsche 911’s rev counter. Now? It’s all flat glass and icons that look like they were designed by a committee of app developers who prefer hard drives to well, hard drives.
And let’s talk safety for a moment. Many recent studies show that touchscreen interfaces increase distraction time. You’re taking your eyes off the road longer to navigate sub-menus just to turndown the fan. In my old TR7, everything is within finger-flick reach without looking. Pull a knob for lights, tap a stalk for wipers. Simple. Effective. No firmware updates required, and certainly no over-the-air patches to fix a bugging climate control. Plus, there’s the sheer joy of it. Analogue dials age like fine wine; patina on the bezels, a faint glow from the bulbs. They tell a story. Touchscreens? They just get fingerprint-smudged and outdated faster than last year’s iPhone.
Of course, the car makers will tell you haptics are the future, blending the best of touch and feel. But give me a proper button any day. One that clicks and LATCHES with authority, not vibrates like it’s apologising for accepting your command. I’ve seen plenty of show-cars and resto-mods that retrofitted a digital dash into classic cars, and sure, it may look cool in the show-hall, but is it going to look and work quite so well on a rainy night, when the LED glare of the street lighting turns it into a disco light show? Meanwhile, I’m happily pottering in my Beetle, where the speedo needle dances like it’s enjoying the ride as much as I am. Lord knows what speed it’s actually showing, but at least I’ve got a bracket to work within. Somewhere between 20 and 40, officer!
So, here’s my plea: dial it back, folks. Next time you’re car shopping, or if you’re one of those talented designer types, seek out those simple dashes. They’re not just easier on the eyes; they’re easier on the soul. And if you’re stuck with a modern screen-fest, maybe chuck a few stickers over it for old times’ sake.
What do you reckon? Are analogue dials the hill worth dying on, or am I just a grumpy old car collector? Send your thoughts to hdc@hagerty.co.uk. I’d love to hear them.