1960–1962 Plymouth Valiant Versus 1986–1991 Ford Taurus – Closer Than They Appear

In the fall of 1959, Chrysler introduced a new compact car called Valiant, with sound engineering, good road manners and controversial styling; it was an also-ran in the market, although it survived a long time once it adopted more conventional styling. In the fall of 1985, Ford introduced a new midsize car called Taurus, with sound engineering, good road manners, and controversial styling; it was a huge hit that only stumbled when Ford adopted an even more confrontational design for 1996. Although these cars couldn’t look more different, I realized recently that the early Valiant and the early Taurus were surprisingly similar in number of respects, including their inside and outside dimensions. Let’s see how they compared.

Recently, I ran a Vintage Review post of John R. Bond’s technical analysis of the 1960 Valiant. In looking at the specifications of the original Valiant (which, as its fans know, wasn’t badged as a Plymouth until 1961), I realized they sounded awfully familiar: The 1960–1962 Valiant sedan was very nearly the same size as the 1986–1991 Ford Taurus, one of the most successful American cars of the ’80s and early ’90s.

How close were the Valiant and Taurus in size? Here’s how their exterior dimensions compared:

1960 Valiant vs. 1986 Taurus,
Major Exterior Dimensions (Sedans)

Dimension	Valiant	Taurus
Overall length	184.0 in.	188.4 in.
Wheelbase	106.5 in.	106.0 in.
Overall width	70.4 in.	70.4 in.
Track width, front	56.0 in.	61.6 in.
Track width, rear	55.5 in.	60.5 in.
Overall height	53.3 in.	54.3 in.

 

(Although some of the pictures in this post are of 1961 and 1987 cars, the exterior dimensions didn’t change; Plymouth quoted a slightly shorter overall length of 183.7 inches for the 1961 Valiant, but I think the difference was whether or not the optional bumper guards were counted.)

Just to look at them, the idea that the Valiant was lower than the sleek Taurus doesn’t quite compute — the way the Valiant greenhouse integrates with the body makes it look taller — but lower it was, by precisely one inch.

That the Taurus was almost 4 inches longer is a little easier to see, and was due mostly to its more prominent bumpers: Although the 5-mph bumper standards had been gutted by the time the Taurus debut, Ford noted proudly that the Taurus still had 5-mph bumpers, not the weaker 2.5-mph protection that federal regulations deemed adequate from 1983 on.

As for the Valiant, well — it had bumpers, which might be enough for minor parking mishaps, but they made no pretense of energy absorption, and it wouldn’t take much of a shunt for something expensive to happen to those bug-eyed-monster taillights.

The other major dimensional difference was in track width. In North America, the early Valiant had dinky 6.50 x 13 low-pressure tires, which seemed to lurk sheepishly within the wheelhouses. (As Australian CC readers will no doubt point out, Australian Valiants got 14-inch wheels, originally with 5.90 x 14 4-ply tires.)

The Taurus originally had 14-inch wheels, with either 195/70R14 or 205/70R14 tires, which better filled out the wheel wells — getting the right “stance” had been an important Taurus design priority.

Interior Dimensions

With such similar exterior differences, it shouldn’t be surprising that the Valiant and the Taurus also had very similar interior room:

1960 Valiant vs. 1986 Taurus,
Major Interior Dimensions (Sedans)

Dimension	Valiant	Taurus
Legroom, front	44.4 in.	41.7 in.
Headroom, front	37.9 in.	38.3 in.
Hip room, front	57.0 in.	54.8 in.
Legroom, rear	38.9 in.	37.5 in.
Headroom, rear	37.4 in.	37.6 in.
Hip room, rear	57.0 in.	56.4 in.

 

Interestingly, the 1961 Valiant specs list 1.6 inches less front legroom and an extra 0.9 inches of legroom in back, with a slightly lower seat height. (I would normally assume that meant the front seat tracks had been shifted forward for 1961 to give rear passengers a bit more space, but the listed minimum rear kneeroom was actually a bit less for 1961, so I’m not sure.) Chrysler doesn’t appear to have quoted shoulder room for the first-generation Valiant; for the Taurus, it was 57.5 inches front and rear.

You’ll notice that the Valiant had the edge in both front hip room and front legroom. I think the greater legroom was a product of the Slant Six engine being pushed forward to reduce toe board intrusion. Although the Taurus had front-wheel-drive, the need to leave room to transversely mount the optional V-6 (which most buyers ordered) and allow crush space for frontal impact protection meant that the engine couldn’t be shifted as far forward. As for the Ford’s disadvantage in front hip room, that was probably due mostly to the integral door armrests, which were more intrusive than the dinky little ones included on the Valiant V-200.

Although packaging is one of the big selling points of front-wheel-drive, it’s clear from this comparison that FWD didn’t make the cabin of the Taurus dramatically roomier for its size. The central tunnel was smaller than in the RWD Valiant (it was a structural element rather than a passage for the driveshaft), but that was about it. Taurus rear seat room was by no means bad — it was roomy for a mainstream ’80s family car, which contributed in no small way to its popularity — but it didn’t have any particular advantage over the old RWD Valiant.

Where the Taurus really gained in packaging efficiency was behind the rear seat, where the lack of a driven axle and the relatively compact MacPherson strut independent rear suspension freed up additional space. Like the Valiant, the Taurus stowed its spare tire in a well under the trunk floor, but it had room for a significantly bigger fuel tank (16 U.S. gallons, compared to 13 gallons for the Valiant, with an 18.6-gallon extended-range tank optional for an extra $46) while still holding more luggage.

Regarding trunk space, the Valiant specifications claimed an impressive-sounding capacity of 24.9 cubic feet, but unless you were filling the trunk with unbagged sand or a lifetime supply of Tootsie Rolls, the shape of the trunk and the downward slope of the rear deck limited its utility. The 17 cu. ft. trunk capacity quoted in the Taurus specifications was measured using the SAE standard for usable luggage space, which obviously benefited from the Taurus sedan’s more squared-off deck shape. Measured on the same basis, the Valiant trunk rated a less-impressive 13.5 cu. ft. — looking at the shape, you can see why.

By early ’60s American standards, the Valiant was a compact car, although it was considered a big family sedan in Australia, South Africa, and other markets. After two oil crises and successive waves of downsizing, the U.S. had come to a similar place: The EPA classified the Taurus as a midsize car based on total passenger and cargo volume (117.1 cu. ft.). While I don’t have SAE interior volume data for the Valiant, it probably would have fallen into that category as well.

Weight and Aerodynamics

Frustratingly, the Valiant brochure specifications don’t list factory curb weights, but Road & Track estimated 2,750 lb for a manual-shift 1960 Valiant, while The Autocar measured a LHD Valiant with TorqueFlite and a radio at 2,821 lb with 6 U.S. gallons of fuel, which would be a curb weight of about 2,866 lb. Coincidentally, that was within a few pounds of the 2,863 lb base curb weight of a four-cylinder 1986 Taurus L sedan.

The Taurus was somewhat heavier than the Valiant, especially with the optional V-6 engine. (Car and Driver‘s well-equipped Taurus LX test car, which had the V-6, air conditioning, power windows, and other extras, weighed 3,251 lb.) However, most of the difference was due to the Ford’s additional equipment (including standard power steering and power brakes with front discs), as well as the 5-mph bumpers, door beams, and other safety and emissions gear.

When the Valiant came out, Chrysler made noises about the supposed aerodynamic efficiency of its gawky stag-beetle styling, but the reality was that the Valiant was no more pleasing to the air than it was to the eye. The 1960 Valiant sedan’s drag coefficient (Cd) was 0.50, no better than average for American sedans of the time. The Taurus was dramatically slicker, with a Cd of 0.32, which was very good though not extraordinary for the mid-’80s.

(In a 1960 SAE paper on the new compacts, John R. Bond presented an estimated CD of only 0.41 for the Valiant, which would have made it a bit better than the early Corvair. However, that figure was calculated based on coast-down measurements, whereas the 0.50 Cd figure was measured in a wind tunnel.)

Performance and Handling

Initially, the Valiant offered only a 170 cu. in. (2.8-liter) six, conservatively rated at 101 gross horsepower; a 225 cu. in. (3.7-liter) version became optional in mid-1961. The Taurus came with a fuel-injected 153 cu. in. (2.5-liter) four with 88 net hp, although most buyers ordered the 182 cu. in. (3.0-liter) Vulcan V-6, which was the only engine available at launch; the unhappy 232 cu. in. (3.8-liter) Essex V-6 became available in 1988.

I’ve never seen actual measured performance figures for the four-cylinder Taurus, but I suspect it was in roughly the same ballpark as the 170 Valiant, which on a good day might hit 60 mph in the high 14-second range with manual transmission and around 17 seconds with automatic. The 3.0-liter Vulcan engine, which made 140 net hp, was in another league: Ford claimed 0 to 60 mph in 12 seconds, but even Consumer Reports managed 11.5 seconds, and Car and Driver cracked 10 seconds. C/D was annoyed that the AXOD transaxle wouldn’t stay in overdrive fourth in top-speed runs, but their test car pulled to redline in third, giving a top speed of 114 mph — almost 20 mph faster than the draggier, less-powerful Valiant.

The Valiant and the Taurus were surprisingly similar in fuel economy. Popular Science averaged 20.31 mpg over 10,000 miles with a manual-shift 1960 Valiant, about the same as Motor Life observed with their stick-shift car. Adjusted EPA combined ratings for the 1986–1987 Taurus were 20 mpg with automatic for either engine, although slicker aerodynamics and taller gearing let the Taurus eke out better mileage in freeway driving. The original EPA highway rating for the V-6 Taurus was a decent 28 mpg, and Consumer Reports managed up to 35 mpg on the expressway.

The Valiant was much-lauded in its day for its fine handling. Its Torsion-Aire suspension wasn’t very sophisticated by modern standards, but the Valiant had a low center of gravity, relatively firm damping, and well-controlled body lean, aided by a stiff unitized body structure. Much the same was true of the Taurus, whose fully independent suspension had been tuned for almost European ride and handling, with good body control and excellent composure. Where the Taurus really scored over the Valiant (other than in tire technology, which had improved a lot in 25 years) was in steering: The Taurus had standard power steering, which required only 2.6 turns lock-to-lock and had fine road feel, where the Valiant steering felt numb with either the undergeared manual steering or optional power assist.

However, the Valiant actually had a tighter turning radius than the FWD Taurus, with a turning circle of 37.1 feet compared to the Ford’s 39.8 feet.

That Old Devil Styling

In many respects, the old Valiant compared surprisingly well to the Taurus. Obviously, the Valiant lacked emissions controls and crash protection, and its tires and brakes were not up to ’80s standards (although the early Taurus also left something to be desired in the braking department), but it was little wonder that this basic package had remained competitive well into the ’70s. Other than its slapdash assembly quality, the only really insuperable flaw of the early Valiant was its terminally eccentric styling, which badly hampered the commercial prospects of the 1960–1962 models.

Styling was a make-or-break point for the Taurus as well, but the 1986 Taurus was not nearly as odd except perhaps in comparison with an LTD Crown Victoria. There were the inevitable cracks about “jellybean styling” (Lee Iacocca derisively called the Taurus and Sable “potato cars” and predicted they’d flop), but the Taurus was sleek and modern-looking, achieving its good aerodynamics with a minimum of aesthetic penalty. It still looks perfectly normal today; the worst you could say about it is that it’s a little anodyne.

Just as importantly, the Taurus resembled upscale European sedans that much of the target audience saw as aspirational. It didn’t exactly look like an Audi 5000, but it was obviously the same kind of car, which was no bad thing. Also, Ford had already dabbled enough in the aero idiom with the Thunderbird, Tempo, and Continental Mark VII that the Taurus wasn’t really a huge departure even among the company’s existing offerings, and it was less willfully odd than the peculiar European Ford Sierra (offered here as the Merkur XR4Ti), whose “jelly mold” styling had proved divisive in Europe.

By contrast, the Valiant didn’t have much precedent other than Virgil Exner’s weirder ’50s flights of fancy, and time has not validated it. It didn’t look European; it looked like Mars Attacks! The early Valiant has its fans (it takes all kinds, I guess), but it was a strange-looking car even in its day, which was why it struggled to sell as many cars in three model years as the more palatable Ford Falcon sold in its first season.

To the extent that the 1986 Taurus was a radical car, it was one the American mainstream was ready for. The same couldn’t be said for the awkward fish-faced 1996 Taurus, or for the original Valiant. Whatever the virtues of the basic package, the world STILL isn’t ready for whatever Chrysler thought it was doing with the styling of the 1960–1962 Valiant, and I’m not sure it ever will be.

Related Reading

Vintage R&T Review: 1960 Valiant — A Technical Analysis Of Chrysler’s New Compact (by me)
Curbside Classic: 1960 -1962 Plymouth Valiant – No One’s Kid Brother (by Laurence Jones)
Curbside Classic: 1962 Plymouth Valiant – Doing Too Much (by Joseph Dennis)
Curbside Classic: 1986 Ford Taurus/Mercury Sable – At This Moment, You Mean Everything (by Edward Snitkoff)
Automotive History: 1986 Ford Taurus – Good Role Models And Clear Objectives Create A Breakthrough Car (by Edward Snitkoff)
Curbside Analysis: 1986 Taurus: The Most Important American Car Since The Model T (by Paul N)