Over the years, the downsized 1978–1980 Pontiac Grand Prix has taken a lot of heat here at CC, even attaining Deadly Sin status. Was it really so bad? Let’s take a fresh look at this contemporary road test of a 1979 Grand Prix SJ with the four-barrel 301 and the very rare four-speed manual, originally published in the January 1979 issue of Motor Trend.
If this test seems familiar, your memory serves you well: Perry Shoar covered it back in 2014. However, that was more than a decade ago, and attitudes change, so I thought it was worth reevaluating.
Motor Trend editor John Ethridge began, as road tests of this era often did, with a nostalgic lament for the “fresh, clean look” of the ’60s Grand Prix. (Close readers will of course notice that he was off by a year: The first Grand Prix arrived for 1962, not 1961.) He went on to admit:
The present-day GP that is the subject of this test doesn’t have the same degree of separate identity from other Pontiacs and GM cars built on the same basic chassis that it formerly did, but it does manage a character of its own with artful application of detail design. The most handsome aspect of the car, judging by the comments it elicited, is its profile. The staunchly formal roofline and bright rocker moldings conspire to make the car look longer than it really is—a much-sought-after effect in the styling trade.
Like the car I found for the color exterior photos in this post, the M/T test car was also two-tone, albeit in Claret over Carmine rather than Platinum over Dark Charcoal. Two-tone paint was a $197 option on the 1979 Grand Prix, serving to accentuate the flowing lines of the front and rear fenders.
M/T‘s test car was a Grand Prix SJ, which they described like this:
The SJ designation orders a long list of extras, some frivolous, but a lot of them solid, desirable items, too. Among the latter are the 4.9-liter 4-bbl V-8 engine (which the test car had), power steering and brakes, brushed aluminum instrument panel with extra gauges and trip odometer, sport steering wheel, extra lamps for various compartments and instrument panel, added acoustical insulation, bucket seats and a floor-selected automatic transmission.
Pontiac didn’t certify the 301 engines for California emissions, so the California SJ substituted the LG4 Chevrolet 305-4V, which had slightly more power (155 hp versus 150 hp), but less torque (225 lb-ft versus 240 lb-ft).
The popularity of the SJ trim level (a Duesenberg-inspired designation Pontiac had first used in 1969) had peaked in 1976 and diminished markedly after that. By 1979, it accounted for only about 11.5 percent of Grand Prix sales.
Motor Trend also had the four-speed manual, a $200 credit option on the SJ. Manually shifted GPs were extraordinarily rare in 1979: According to Automotive News, only 133 GPs had the four-speed manual this year, and only 250 had the three-speed stick, which was available only with the Buick V-6. As with the 301 engine, the manual transmissions were not available in California, where Turbo Hydra-Matic was mandatory.
The four-speed stick was probably good for a few tenths of a second to 60 mph, thanks in part to its higher numerical axle ratio. Although the data panel on the following page indicates that the test car had a 3.08 axle, the 1979 Pontiac Buyer’s Guide lists a 2.73 axle ratio as standard with the four-speed and doesn’t suggest that a 3.08 was available. Standard ratio with automatic was listed as 2.29, with a 2.56 optional.
In any case, Motor Trend found the four-speed more trouble than it was worth, due more to the clutch than the transmission or linkage:
[W]hen it came to stop-and-go-traffic, the fun ceased. The heavy clutch required the utmost care to modulate for smooth starts, and due to the soft engine and driveline mountings, there was an ever-present tendency toward lurching and bucking when making the transition from acceleration to coast in the lower gears. And up-grades in stop-and-go traffic were stark terror, due to the abominable combination of a foot-operated parking brake with the manual transmission. The unavoidable clutch slippage when starting uphill was also accompanied by chattering protest from the frying clutch disc. The automatic, to our way of thinking, was unquestionably the better choice for a car such as this, especially considering the fact that at trade-in time most or all of the $200 saved by going to the manual would be deducted from the car’s normal value.
Given the rarity of both manual transmissions, contemporary buyers apparently decided the same thing.
All 1979 GPs had Radial Tuned Suspension, but the M/T car had the $116.20 Rally RTS package, with quicker power steering, a rear anti-roll bar, a larger front anti-roll bar, and 205/70R14 tires. Motor Trend said:
The resulting increase in roll stiffness paid off in the form of increased steering response and the preservation of suspension travel to handle the bumps while cornering. The steering had a nigh-perfect feel, letting the driver know what the front wheels were doing without transmitting any harshness. The first impression was that this suspension might yield a ride that was on the coarse side, but the first real bump we confronted erased that entirely. … We can recommend it to everyone.
The much-maligned Pontiac 301 engine was first introduced for 1977. (Its actual displacement was 302 cid, 4,942 cc, the same as the Ford 302, but GM had enough trouble with engine sourcing without buyers thinking they were now getting V-8 engines from Dearborn.) The 301 was essentially a scaled-down Pontiac 350, 119 lb lighter than the old 350 — at 452 lb dry, it was actually a bit lighter than the Ford 302.
Pontiac build almost 790,000 of these engines for 1979, about 40 percent of those for Buick and Oldsmobile.
In 1979, the L27 two-barrel 301 (not offered on the Grand Prix SJ, but available on the base and LJ) had 135 hp and 240 lb-ft of torque. The four-barrel L37 version had 15 extra horsepower, but no more torque. The Motor Trend performance figures indicate that the 301-4V/four-speed combination was pretty spry up to the 55 mph speed limit, but progress slowed beyond that: 0 to 60 mph came up in 11.82 seconds, not bad for the time, but M/T needed a yawning 23 seconds to hit 80 mph. In the quarter mile, the Grand Prix managed a mediocre best ET of 18.69 seconds with a 73.7 mph trap speed.
While the editors noted earlier that a manual transmission provided “an edge in fuel economy that the typical fluid-coupled transmission doesn’t offer,” that wasn’t borne out by the contemporary EPA ratings. The 301-4V/automatic was rated at 17/24/20 mpg, while the 301-4V/four-speed rated only 16/23/19. Some of the mileage disadvantage was undoubtedly due to the higher numerical axle ratio, but all of the available ratios in 1979 were quite tall.
While the 1978–1980 Grand Prix was smaller than its immediate predecessor, it was still not a particularly small car in absolute terms, stretching 201.4 inches overall on a 108.1-inch wheelbase. Motor Trend listed its weight as 3,569 lb, split 58.4/41.6 percent front/rear.
That nose-heavy weight distribution probably contributed to the test car’s poor braking performance. The Grand Prix had standard front discs, but M/T found that the 9.5-inch rear drums locked up too easily:
The stopping distances recorded on the spec chart were short enough, but rear-wheel lockup was a problem that caused the rear end of the car to slue to one side. For real straight-line stopping, less pedal pressure was required toward the end of the stops, but this increased 60-0 mph distances by about 40 feet. Some sort of proportioning valve or other device to control this would be most welcome.
Their best stop from 60 mph was a mediocre 165 feet, which really wasn’t “short enough” even for 1979, in my estimation.
Bucket seats were surprisingly rare on the Grand Prix by this point — they were fitted to only 24 percent of production in 1979, with the SJ accounting for just under half of that tally. Motor Trend liked the velour upholstery and was impressed by the generous front legroom the buckets provided. They also though the back seat was reasonably commodious for a car like this, although accessing it required some agility.
Etheridge concluded that the Grand Prix had “all the necessary ingredients to appeal to buyers of sporty personal cars” and “the best balance of performance, economy and value for money of any built to date.” I think “value for money” was an interesting phrase to apply to a personal luxury car listing for $9,130.84, even in an era of rampant inflation. Base prices in 1979 were $5,222 for a V-6 base car, $6,394 for an LJ V-8, and $6,653 for the SJ, but desirable options added up quickly. If the Motor Trend test car had had automatic transmission and the pricey T-top “hatch roof” (which was far more popular on the Firebird than on the GP in ’79), its sticker price would have been scraping $10,000, a relative worth of more than $50,000 in 2025 dollars.
When I started researching this post, I recalled that the 1978–1979 Grand Prix had sold less than the 1977 model, and I was prepared to rake it over the coals for losing the plot commercially. However, the data suggests that the immense popularity of the 1977 Grand Prix, the last year of the previous generation, was really something of an anomaly:
| Model Year | Base Grand Prix | LJ | SJ | Brougham | Total |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1973 | 133,150 | — | 20,749 | — | 153,899 |
| 1974 | 85,976 | — | 13,841 | — | 99,817 |
| 1975 | 64,581 | 14,855 | 7,146 | — | 86,582 |
| 1976 | 110,814 | 29,045 | 88,232 | — | 228,091 |
| 1977 | 168,247 | 66,741 | 53,442 | — | 288,430 |
| 1978 | 127,253 | 65122 | 36,069 | — | 228,444 |
| 1979 | 124,815 | 61,175 | 24,060 | — | 210,050 |
| 1980 | 72,659 | 34,968 | 7,087 | — | 114,714 |
| 1981 | 74,786 | 46,842 | — | 26,083 | 147,711 |
While the 1978–1979 Grand Prix didn’t quite match the huge success of the ’77, the sales of these cars were about even with the 1976 GP, and they sold good deal better than the the earlier Colonnade models (which seem to have been hit particularly hard by the oil embargo that occurred during the 1974 model year and took a while to recover).
Grand Prix sales did drop off late in the 1979 model year, a decline that continued through 1980, although that was due in large part to the second oil crisis and the awful “stagflation” economy, which put a damper on many market segments for the next few years. Even so, the 1978–1980 Grand Prix sold a total of 553,208 units, so from a commercial standpoint, it was a solid hit.
New car shoppers don’t have the luxury of choosing between all cars that have ever existed or that might ever exist — they’re stuck with whatever manufacturers actually deign to offer at any given time, which sometimes makes for rather uninspiring choices. In that respect, contemporary buyers clearly decided the Grand Prix wasn’t so bad. I don’t think it pulled off the flowing-hips/formal-roof theme nearly as well as the new Buick Riviera, but it was a little more stylish than the GM A-body sedans, it had a more usable back seat than a Firebird, and the Rally RTS suspension gave it a decent chassis. It still wasn’t great on gas, the brakes left much to be desired, and (according to the 1981 Consumer Guide Used Car Rating and Price Guide), its repair record was below average, but in 1979, you could do a lot worse.
On the other hand, “could do worse” is not really a ringing endorsement for a specialty car, and unless you just loved the styling — which still seems frumpy and bland compared to its flamboyant predecessor — the Grand Prix offered nothing you couldn’t get on a LeMans coupe for less money.
I think that speaks to the reasons the personal luxury coupe market ultimately collapsed: The main things driving this segment were style and, for a while, force of habit. However, styles fall out of fashion and habits can be broken, and one of the surest ways to accelerate both trends is to treat an image-driven model as a placeholder, just filling out a space in the lineup until something better comes along. Despite their modest virtues, it’s hard to see these GPs as much else.
Related Reading
Curbside Classic: 1978 Pontiac Grand Prix – GM’s Deadly Sin #14 – Thou Shalt Not Take Thy Own Name In Vain (by Paul N)
Vintage Review: 1979 Pontiac Grand Prix LJ – Adding Options Makes The Petite Prix More Grand (by GN)
In Motion Classic: 1979 Pontiac Grand Prix LJ – Ride On The Rhythm (by Joseph Dennis)
Vintage Review: 1979 Pontiac Grand Prix SJ – She’s No Fun, My Three-Oh-One (Perry Shoar’s 2014 take on this road test)
If you compare the 78-79 Grand Prix with the other A-body specialty (Regal, Monte Carlo, Cutlass Supreme), it was the only one with quad headlights (vs dual) which made the front end look more up-market. Plus it had the most up-market appearing dashboard (which was so nice that Chevy borrowed it for later Mexican Monte Carlos). The other 3 recognized the headlight issue and for 1 year (1980) before the 1981 reskin they spent money to redesign the front of those 3 to have quad headlights like the Grand Prix (which did not get a 1980 front end redesign).
Grand Prix did not sell as well as its sister cars in those years for many reasons.
The TransAm was red-hot (in some years 50% of Firebirds were TransAms) and the Screaming Eagle and other Firebirds poached some buyers within the showroom. (Smokey and the Bandit and Jim Rockford sold them very well)
Also, in those years Oldsmobile’s dealer network and marketing did everything right, especially compared with Pontiac which was still recovering from the loss years before of John D and much of his team.
In those years GM was ahead Ford/Mopar in right-sizing its cars and everyone knew it.
The outside-GM competition to the A-Body specialty quadruplets were ancient and oversized (and highly discounted in order to sell their production). Thunderbird, Cougar XR7, Cordoba, Magnum. Selling prices (not meaningless sticker) for GMs were as high or higher, even though most of the GMs had V6s or low powered V8s. In reality the GMs were cross shopped with the 2-door Granada/ Monarch, LeBaron/Diplomat (and sometimes with loaded Futura/Z-7, Aspen/Volare, and the Nova/Phoenix/Omega/Skylark).
Pretty good looking car, I’d say.
I think I’d prefer this over the same year Monte Carlo.
As Jim mentioned, the “quad” headlights did have a more ‘upscale’ look, especially compared to the same year Lemans. The HUGE spacing in the ‘(eggcrate) grille squares’ makes Lemans look super cheap.
It seems the manual shifter wouldn’t fit into the standard console and instead used a shorter console that provided an armrest and a storage compartment, but left a big gap between the console and the dash to give the shifter room – something I’ve noticed on all of this generation A bodies with manuals. That’s unfortunate, because automatic-equipped Grand Prixs with bucket seats had a lovely full-length console that joined the dashboard and had carpeting running up the sides, making the console look built-in rather than an afterthought. Both types are shown in the photos here.
Despite the carping that the GP wasn’t as distinct from other GM cars as previously, the Grand Prix was no quickie badge-engineering job. All of the sheetmetal is unique to the GP except the roof which is shared with the Monte Carlo. Inside, the dash, steering wheel, console, and door armrests are Pontiac-specific (with the armrests GP-only), as were the optional leather Viscount bucket seats which had a basket-handle headrest. Suspensions were tuned differently as well. The 301 was of course a genuine Pontiac engine, though it was used in other GM cars.
1980 brought new, downsized PLCs from Ford (T-Bird, Cougar XR7) and Chrysler (Cordoba, Mirada). All of those sold poorly, which has often been blamed on styling (save for the Mirada). The sales stats here though show GP sales were also in a funk for 1980 despite having almost the same styling as the popular 78s and 79s. I recall other GM A-body PLCs also had lower sales in 1980 too, which suggests the Ford and Mopar coupes’ low sales weren’t entirely a reaction to their looks. It just seems the heyday of the personal luxury coupe was coming to an end.
Not long after this car was built, the beancounters at GM started to compare the take rate of manual transmissions vs. the cost of EPA certification of each individual engine/transmission/chassis, and stick shifts started disappearing out of the brochures mighty fast.
I’m not finding specific data, but I think that by 1981, the clutch pedal was all but gone from A-bodies and A-specials. You could still order a Malibu with a 3-speed (the “Iraqi Taxi”) and the El Camino could be had with 3- or 4-speed manual, but I’m pretty sure that manual transmissions were entirely gone from the B-O-P A-bodies by 1981.
I don’t know if it’s an indicator of that era’s malaise, or in fact a sign of refreshing eclecticism, but the test car’s combo of 4 speed, limited slip, and Rally suspension, as well as wire wheels and whitewalls is interesting.
These cars were everywhere back in the day, at least here on the West Coast. There seemed to be a lot more of this downsized model than the previous generation. I had a friend whose mom had one for many years. It gave good service, too, as Vancouver Island cars were not prone to rust.
I like the styling of these cars more than the other A Special cars. The next generation was even prettier in my opinion.
Funny, I don’t recall these cars at all. However, I was at Cal Berkeley for grad school from 77-81, and being Berkeley should tell you something from back then. When not on campus, which was pretty much five days per week from 0800-1600 hours, I was in Orinda which was the home for Mercedes, BMW, Volvo, and Accords.
Among this generation of downsized A-Specials, I liked the Gran Prix best in its 1978-80 iteration. The larger rear quarter window versus the Cutlass and Regal absence of the very awkward sculpted hips of the Monte Carlo made this the cleanest exterior design of the four. The Gran Prix interior was the most attractive of the four, in my opinion, and the dash was the best looking as well, especially when equipped with the full gauge package.
I knew two people who owned these when new and liked them, though both ultimately traded their Gran Prix for a Honda Accord in the early 1980s and never went back to GM. Perhaps this was the last competitive product that the General fielded for a good long time.
On the other hand, the 1981-87 refresh changed things and I preferred the Regal over the other three.