How often does a truly revolutionary car appear? Let’s disqualify uranium powered flying cars on the cover of Popular Science and other quirky eccentrics from consideration, but focus on mass production cars that profoundly and permanently changed the autosphere. Narrow the field further to the small-size end of the US market post WWII, and the number of candidates is all of…two. The VW Beetle completely turned the US car market (and careless drivers) on its head, both in its technical specifications and in creating a mass small-car market. The Beetle had a brilliant twenty-year run, and just as it was running out of compression, it handed the baton to that other revolutionary, the Honda Civic.
The Civic appeared here in 1973, and immediately recreated the VW cult phenomena of the mid-fifties: drivers waving to each other. That was only diluted (like the Beetle’s) when rampant Civic-mania made waving tedious. It didn’t take long for that to happen, arriving as it did on the cusp of the first energy crisis. The Civic was an instant hit: forty miles per gallon, a $2150 price tag ($11k adjusted), and a blast to drive. The thin-skinned Civic weighed barely 1500 pounds, which made it feel a ton livelier than its 52 hp 1200 cc engine would suggest. Don’t think I’m exaggerating either: Ford’s new 1975 “compact” Granada weighed 2000 lbs more and sported 75 horses from a 3.3 liter six. The Civic was the Mini Cooper of that slothful era.
Its super-compact FWD two-box hatchback package was revolutionary in these parts. OK, that wasn’t exactly new in Europe, and a gaggle of Minis, Austin 1100s and Simcas 1204s had made their way stateside. But none of them were significant sellers, and all of them had weaknesses that kept the concept out of the mainstream. The Civic finally put FWD two-box cars up and down Main Street, Anytown, USA. And not just for its innovative design, but the way it all worked together. The Civic was truly greater than the sum of its tiny parts.
While the baby Honda broke some serious new ground in the US, its revolutionary impact was perhaps even greater in Japan. Even more conservative than the US, the small car sector there was totally dominated by conventional RWD three-box sedans. The Civic was as radical in its design as was Honda’s aspirations to build a popular, cheap mass-produced car. Up to that point, Honda was strictly a low-volume producer of niche four-wheeled vehicles: the sporty N600 microcar; the sports cars series 500 – 800; and the brilliant but prohibitively expensive 1300.
The Civic’s name announced its intentions: to be an everyman’s car, a Japanese Volkswagen. And Honda was certainly not encumbered by the inertia and tooling that kept Toyota building RWD Corollas until 1987. Four-wheel independent strut suspension, smooth and rev-happy 1200cc OHC alloy four engine, slick-shifting transmission, hatchback, ultra-lightweight construction, and attention to detail defined the formula. And if that weren’t enough, Honda gave a slap in the face to the industry big guys with the CVCC (compound vortex combustion chamber) engine that appeared two years later in 1974.
The EPA standards for ’75–’76 called for a 90% reduction in smog-forming exhaust components. The Big Three had managed some delays, because they needed time to ramp up the catalytic converters they needed to meet this standard. And here comes Honda with the first engine to meet the standard, and without any catalyst. Since the CVCC could run on cheaper leaded gas, its fuel costs were unbeatable.
The Civic hooked a large swath of Americans to a whole new automotive dimension: Japanese reliability crossed with European-style driving fun. One literally wears these diminutive Civics like a snug yet reasonably-comfortable pair of pants. The sparse dash design is brilliantly clean, handsome and timeless compared to the typical Detroit mid-seventies wood-grained-vinyl Baroque dashboard confabulations. And everything works just so on the Civic, like just about every Honda since. This is it, the prototype of the Honda way; the formula for the company’s lasting success.
I assume these early Civics must have certain weak spots other than their cancer-attracting thin sheet metal, but none that I’m particularly aware of. In 1977, a co-worker in LA had one of these, an early small-bumpered ’73 1200. He had taken it back to the Midwest for just a year or so, and was already fighting the curse. He actually stripped the interior of his four year old Civic in a heroic effort to track down and attack the sources of the rot. I suspect it was only a delaying tactic at best, because once they started to go, it was inevitably terminal. Yet none of the examples in Eugene show any signs of visible rust. Salt is obviously the enemy, not rain.
Do you perceive an aura of death surrounding this particular Civic? It was palpable when I found it washed up like flotsam on a busy corner. It sat there for weeks, forlorn, abandoned and unlocked, and every time I passed it I started mentally composing its obituary. And not just for this one, but for all gen1 Civics, because this is the first and only one I’d found since starting Curbside Classics.
Sure enough, after about a month of sitting there, it was gone; undoubtedly to the great impound yard by the River Styx. But Lo! Lazarus arises, proclaiming: “the reports of my death are greatly exaggerated”. It was suddenly back on the street, and shortly thereafter I started running into more gen1 Civics. Did this black Messiah release the souls of other Civics in its trip to the underworld?
At last count, there are about a half-dozen of these revolutionaries still at work in Eugene. For someone documenting the disappearance of endangered auto species, this is akin to the reappearance of the passenger pigeon.
Well, Eugene is home to numerous old revolutionaries of many stripes from the early seventies. And they often stay undercover until they’re exposed. But these old Civics deserve immortality, not the wrecking yard. Please put an air cleaner on this one, and keep these little old Hondas on the road, alongside all those Beetles. They’re a living history lesson in the American revolution.
Note: a rerun of an older post.
I had a ’75 CVCC five speed and it was an impressive little car. It was a coupe instead of a hatchback but I found it comfortable and usable. The fact that it could use either leaded or unleaded gas was one of the attractions. I had owned many Honda motorcycles over the years and was an admirer of Honda engineering. Later I bought an early Civic wagon and it was a very useful vehicle and could haul all kinds of stuff, Unfortunately this was hobbled by a two speed Hondamatic. My final Civic was a ’90 SI that I bought new and that car remains one of my favorite cars ever. Over the years I’ve strayed away from small efficient cars, I even owned a Lincoln Navigator for a time! Lately I’ve thought that I’d like to get another small efficient car, like a Honda Fit or another small four door hatchback/CUV. My Mustangs have gotten around 25 mpg. but I’d like something that would get over 35 mpg. There are lots to choose from.
My girlfriend at the time bought a 77 Civic and paid a premium because of a longshoreman’s strike on the BC coast. Japanese cars couldn’t be off loaded at the ports. Japanese imports ran out after a few weeks. She paid around $5,000 Cdn including tax.
It certainly was a nice car and seeing one in my neck of the woods this summer I didn’t realize how small they were. But reliable and great on gas they were. I suspect after she returned to Ontario that Civic would have rusted to nothing after a few years out there.
Fond memories of my 76 Honda Civic wagon while in Hawaii – perfect island car. Mine was also the semi-automatic which took the fun out of spinning the little CVCC engine up.
One of the biggest draws of the Civic was an early example of the Japanese industry’s adoption of the Deming method of quality control. Aside from the aforementioned propensity to rust, these were exceptionally well-built vehicles, and a huge part was not only the assembly, but the careful control of parts built to tight specifications.
A prime example of this was, unlike domestic engines which tended to run in a lopey, agricultural manner, Honda’s engines were smooth as silk, and here’s a reason. When US suppliers cast their pistons, they were just tossed into a box and randomly pulled for installation, with no group of pistons weighing the same. But Honda’s pistons, after being cast, were carefully grouped in matched ‘sets’, meaning the weights were virtually identical. So, there was inherent balance in the way Honda engines ran.
I owned one, a ’73, and it was a brilliant, brilliant device, even 12 years on. Their only deficiency compared to fancied Euro types of this size was the ride, which was a tad brittle. No fore-aft compliance, it felt like (which was for years a Euro specialty). Everything else was just plain superior to the fancied brands.
The elegant dash, the RWD-feeling gear snicketies, the great rack steering, the handling, the unexpected roominess, all of it quite outrageously superior to the dreary, badly-suspended and noisy slop from Toyota or Datsun or Mazda.
Best of all, that weeny engine could be driven perfectly respectably using just 2000, 2500 rpm, like some old school six. It could also be wheedled along at 4500, for really good progress. But it could also be flogged up to 6500 in each gear, and really make itself known, and in no version of these uses was it ever uncouth.
What a car. It made Honda, no doubt, and set a template for the qualities of their cars thereafter. They’ve never made anything as disruptive since.
Yep ;
These were _total_ game changers .
The weak spot I discovered was : Americans hate to get oil changes so after about 60,000 miles they’d begin to smoke blue .
This meant lots of popular 5 year old cars I could buy for $150, slap in a $250 Japanese take out engine and flip for $1,500.
SWEET =8-) .
Plus of course they really were fun to drive .
-Nate
Saw them for the first time at the 1974 Chicago Auto Show. The imports were on the lower floor, and the Civic was a stand out. Adorable appearance and ingeniously intuitive. After spending two hours ogling the domestics, the Civic was clearly revolutionary and years ahead. Still have the Harvest Gold colored brochure.
Cars back then aped muscle cars, pony cars, or luxury cars. Cheap rides were stripped versions, and still sold similarly. The Beetle was cute. American brands did cute, like the Rambler, but the Civic was new.
The Civic didn’t sell based on sportiness. It was cute, but its main selling point was practicality, purposefully and ingeniously selling a break from the past. This was very different. Even Datsun and Toyota were selling mini American rides. The Civic was a logical choice. That was new.
We were ready for a change. The Civic showed us how to motor around in a modern practical car.
The first time I rode in, or even saw, one of these was a slushy/snowy late fall evening in St. John’s, Newfoundland. It was tiny, comically so I thought at the time (‘Can four of us get in this thing?? Yes, barely.’). But I was impressed by the interior design and general sense of quality. And it seemed to enjoy the increasingly snowy streets.
One of the many things that made Honda a success in the USA at the time were a generation of kids, like me, that rode Honda motorcycles. We already knew the build quality and engineering of Honda products, so it was a natural for your first new car. I, however was into German stuff and had moved up to a BMW bike and bought a German-made Ford Fiesta as my first new four wheeled ride, replacing an old VW. It was fun, but not that reliable. My only real excuse was that Honda dealers were marking Civic’s above sticker and Ford dealers traditionally making deals.
The local Pontiac dealer struggled during the energy crisis until he got a Honda franchise, like printing money. Pontiac is long gone and Scott Robinson Honda in Torrance is still a money printing machine.
The Honda Fit I drive is the descendant of the original Civic, not the current Civic, which has grown into a midsize sedan.