Soft-touch too much? by Gareth Dean

In today’s automotive landscape, the issue of harder interior plastics is both everything and nothing

I’m guessing some CAR readers take motoring journalists as a soft lot and, in my case, you’d not be far wrong. Lift a car bonnet, point at an oily engine component and ask me what it does… I can certainly tell you how much power the engine produces and how fast its maker claims it will be. I can even show you how to navigate the electronic maze of the infotainment system and the point at which you need to intervene when the autonomous driving assistant becomes self-aware and chooses not to save you, but my grasp of the actual nuts and bolts stuff is rudimentary at best.

In truth, most of us aren’t the leather-mitted, oil-stained macho men of yesteryear. We do have feelings. Not in the emotional sense (although watching a motoring journalist feverishly trying to nd a Wi-fi hotspot is more heart-rending than any Greek tragedy) but more in a tactile sense. We can detect weird mechanical hiccups in a car or sense nuances of its ride quality as though our posteriors are hardwired to the chassis, reading the interplay of road surface and suspension in a bizarre bottom-reliant form of braille.

Our senses are honed towards the caprices of perceived cabin quality, with almost sonar-like acuity to trim rattles and an index ngernail capable of detecting whether the plastics are fortress-solid or Flora margarine tub-thin. It’s this particular Spidey sense that has been tingling with growing concern surrounding the quality of cabin plastics.

A case in point is the ttings in the VW Group. Not for the purpose of sole scrutiny – Volkswagen is not alone in this regard – but because the company has long set the bar for interior nishes. Differences become particularly noticeable; the changes have been incremental but are becoming more apparent. The odd bit of dense plastic is making way for hard, scratchy stuff … and slush-moulded panels are a rare nd. Our rst taste of the otherwise brilliant T-cross was slightly bitter: there are unyielding plastics aplenty, a blot on its otherwise spotless ledger.

Audi, long held as the gold standard for interior ttings, isn’t immune to this phenomenon, either. Again, a brilliant car in the guise of the latest A1 had a number of us curiously prodding the creaky plastics on the centre console. It was something so glaring in a stable of cars known for immaculately rubberised, metal-accented innards.

Pinpointing the cause of this trend is tricky. There are obvious cost and labour penalties in making a car interior as silent and squishy as possible but I’m guessing it’s a combination of production volume drive and a hangover of Volkswagen’s $33 billion Dieselgate bill that has probably taken its toll.

In the face of the COVID-19 pandemic – arguably one of the greatest challenges our society has faced in recorded history – it looks as though the plastic industry, upon which such things as high-quality vehicle trim depends, is being put through the wringer. Not in the sense that its production capacity has been drastically reduced, though. Industry heads in the US and UK foresee a surge in demand thanks in part to issues like hygiene measures in the shape of increased plastic packaging for food items. More importantly, the raw product will be channelled into items such as surgical gloves, IV tubing and other medical equipment in the battle against the virus. Along with the knock-on effect – from procurement of raw materials to supply chains and retail – motor industry budgets will likely tighten. This doesn’t bode well for squishy-plastic cabin bits.

Many may nd my observation rather trivial because it’s not as though we spend our driving time constantly stroking centre consoles and tapping panels. Although it’s nowhere near as taxing as the self-isolation we’re enduring under lockdown, our time behind the wheel is a form of societal isolation. Our recent shift to working remotely has us marvelling at just how big a bite commuting takes out of our day. However, it’s fair to assume – whether in self-isolation or time spent in traf c – we’d rather be seated on a padded sofa than a plastic school chair.

Here’s hoping the tenacity that has helped humans adjust to a world under pressure from COVID-19 – and technological ingenuity such as Ford’s ability to produce vehicle plastics from sources like soy waste and leftovers from tequila production in Mexico – will ensure we have a soft landing (and softer cabin plastics) on the other side.