TOYOTA DMT, 2001
Many of us have been stuck at our home desks for a long time now, banned from the endless commute, overbright lighting and fishbowl feel of the office. If only we could take the home office outside, on the move, switch it up a bit. Except Toyota was well ahead of the game back at the 2001 Tokyo Motor Show.
That year’s slogan was “Open the Door! The Automobile’s Bright Future”, which reads like it might take an interpreter and therapy to fully unpack what might have been intended in the original Japanese. The DMT concept
– or Dual Mode Traveller to its friends – was intended to provide a versatile space for its owner, and just imagine the Bright Future you could have had with one of these.
The show car had an office set up in the back of it that looked like someone had been sent out to the nearest discount furniture store about 40 minutes before the show opened, but the idea was there. The potential for the DMT was only limited by the owner’s imagination and budget. There was a partition between the front cabin and rear space, but a door opened up and you could step down into the back. A home office away from home, if you will.
There weren’t many details about the engine set-up, but we do know the CMT was powered by a 2.4-litre petrol that also saw action in the RAV4 and Previa models from the same era. Of course, had the DMT gone into production, it would have been ripe for one of the Japanese carmaker’s hybrid units.
The DMT was airy up front, none of the usual oppressive space restrictions you associate with being stuck in the cabin of a working van. Where would you put your redtop newspaper? There were light woods, crazy chairs with headrests apparently inspired by loo rolls and dash controls seemingly modelled on the iPod. Even the full-width instrument panel in front of the windscreen glowed an enticing blue.
Forget the office, though – wouldn’t the DMT be just the thing to solve the housing crisis? Imagine rows and rows parked in the supermarket bays at the back that no one ever uses. Conveniently located public housing for thousands. Bosh, there’s no need to thank us, the government.
Sure, our plan to house people in endless thousands of odd looking vans would probably evoke a strong reaction. “Hellishly depressing” and “no way to live” are strong sentences to throw around, but you’d get used to your new way of life quickly enough. Worried about the lack of space? Park your new starter home near a park. You can stroll around and feed the ducks to your heart’s content. Open the door! This could be your bright new future.