Every once in a while, disasters are worth revisiting. Not only in an attempt to analyze what happened but also, because they are fascinating to our collective psyche. Success and failure, two extremes of reality we love to go back to.
And in the case of the mighty, failures are fascinating indeed. Particularly, as they’re often the result of bold and lofty ambitions.
The program behind the 1986 Buick Riviera was certainly one of GM’s boldest ones. And its failure in the marketplace earned it a well-deserved Deadly Sin title at CC. Need any proof behind that claim?
In cold figures, the high mark, ever, for the Riviera had been in ’85, selling 65K units. The following year, the newly downsized ’86 Riv barely eked out 22K units.
Sinful numbers, indeed.
How much ambition was behind the ’86 Riviera? As Car And Driver pointed out: “The new Buick is a member of the GM-30 family, which also includes Oldsmobile’s Toronado and Cadillac’s Allante, ElDorado and Seville. The GM planners sat down to create… a high-tech luxury platform… with state-of-the-art engineering features… You can sense Buick was reaching for the stars on this project… What happened next is anyone’s guess.”
Thanks to later interviews by those involved, we need no guessing anymore. Instead, we now know that the Riviera was a bold move. But a confused one at that.
By the time the ’80s dawned, GM had developed a curious knack; it would pursue the right ideas and deliver the wrong execution. A trait it had been slowly developing. The trio of the Toronado, Riviera, and Seville E-bodies of 1986 are non-shining examples of that.
The arrival of the 1986 E-body siblings was one more step in GM’s lofty downsizing program, which started back in the 70s. A series of efforts meant to face a landscape conditioned by the aftershocks of the 1970s; a period of new emission and safety regulations, general inflation, and an energy crisis.
It was tricky terrain, and it would test car makers to the limit. And in hindsight, after the successful launch of GM’s downsized B-bodies and A-bodies in ’77 and ’78, the company had reached its corporate limits.
To many, ‘X’ marks the spot where GM’s downfall began in earnest. The trouble-prone compact, fuel-efficient, and modern X-body cars of 1980 were a clear sign the company was chewing more than it could bite. Harvey Bell, engineering manager for the 2.5 4-cyl. used in the X-cars resumed in 2011: “We had this ingrained knowledge and had done vehicles pretty much the same way, polishing the same diamond, making small tweaks year after year… most engineering up to then was what I would call very sophisticated craft type stuff… so then they cut the engine in half, turned it around sideways to drive the front wheels, and threw away the frame. Oh, and by the way. Decided to do not just a few of them but to tool up four assembly plants.”
The ’86 E-bodies followed the same pattern, following overtly ambitious goals, with little grounding on the limitations of GM’s corporate culture. A culture that couldn’t adapt quickly enough to the changes happening in the automotive world. Or even, the changes it had imposed upon itself.
When upper management chose team-player Irv Rybicki as GM’s VP of Design in ’78, it was clear styling would no longer be the corporation’s calling card. The decision was a monumental shift. The company was to dispense with a sales tool that had defined it for decades.
In lieu of styling, GM’s mission was now to be the best at everything. Or something like that. In the Los Angeles Auto Show in January of 1980, Chevrolet General Manager Bob Lund claimed; “The period from 1975 and 1985 will go down as the golden age in automotive productive development, the decade in which we’ll transform the industry to fuel-efficient, exciting, individualized, and updated products… we are going to widen the distance between us and the rest of the industry.”
Photo by Paul Niedermeyer.
Styling was the ’86 Riviera’s main sin, the one that sealed the car’s fate. Bill Porter, chief of styling at Buick 1 Studio resumed; “We had a terrible time coming up with a theme for that car. There was… some psychological vacuum that foiled us in some strange way… it had us spooked and we could not rise above it… They gave us the package, which was considerably smaller, and we were quite worried about it. During development, when the model was roughed in, GM president Jim McDonald came into my studio and we talked about it. He wasn’t a car guy, so he didn’t see how wrong it was… Then Irv Rybicki came in and chatted with him briefly. Rybicki said ‘You know, there’s nothing wrong with this car that another 12 inches of length couldn’t cure.’ And McDonald turned to me and said, ‘Bill, I just came from Washington. Do not add one millimeter of length to this car’.”
1985 Buick Somerset on top. 1986 Riviera below. Images by Paul Niedermeyer.
Porter also added, “The marketing idea was to do a successful Riviera, then imitate it with a smaller car… but probably because of production issues, the smaller Somerset came out six months ahead of the Riviera.” A point Porter tried to make clear to GM Vice Chairman Howard Kehrl “… I took him aside, and told him that if this reduced Riviera was offered to the public after the smaller car, it would be a disaster. It would be an imitation of a smaller, cheaper car. But he didn’t grasp that at all. He just gave me a deer in the headlights look.”
Notice I haven’t gotten to Car And Driver’s review yet. They obviously didn’t like it. At best, they referred to the Riviera as ‘half-baked.’ Between the techno-gizmo gadgets, the shrunk dimensions, the modern drivetrain, and the timid styling, Car And Driver had to ask “Exactly what is this automobile meant to be?”
Yet, by the cold measurements of a planner’s spreadsheet, the ’86 Riviera was a ‘good’ product. It met all the criteria behind its intended mission: it was a lighter space-efficient unibody car, with good fuel efficiency, and better driving dynamics than just about any Buick before it. It was also stuffed with very-’80s tech gadgetry and space-age ergonomics. Trendy ideas perfect for the Sharper Image decade. All wrapped in inoffensive styling.
But the resulting car just embodied the conflicting demands of corporate departments executing directives in a void. Its confusing signals were all too clear in the final product, alienating Buick’s traditional buyers and failing to entice youthful upscale buyers.
On a personal note, back in 1987 I actually rode a few times on an ’86 Seville. The Riviera’s sibling. To this day, I think the Seville was one of the best mid-80s GM cars I ever rode on. Its ride felt good, its handling fairly responsive, and its styling was certainly modern. I considered it, in general, ‘good.’
But was it desirable?
As we know, ‘good’ is not enough in a free market filled with options. Desirable is what’s needed. Something the ’86 Somerset-like Riviera was not to most of the public.
Further reading:
Curbside Classic: 1986 Buick Riviera – GM’s Deadly Sin #1
Vintage Review: 1987 Buick Le Sabre T-Type And Riviera T-Type – Missing The Target
*The* problem with GM styling back then was the “formal roof line” that had been introduced with the Seville (and really the 77-78 downsizers in general). It literally ruined the whole GM line until the Cutlass Supreme coupe arrived in 1988.
The 86 Rivi’s styling wasn’ t even that bad, the worst of all to me was the 1979 Eldorado (which sold great for reasons unknown to my European eye)
A neighbor of mine bought one of these when I was 15. I was quite smitten by the exuberant futurism. She made a point to be sure the Graphic Control Center was warranted, as she considered it to potentially be some form of Tron-esque witchcraft. What she wasn’t told was that, while the screen itself was warranted, the cathrode tube was not. It failed often, and cost $500 to replace (in 1986 dollars). The automatic leveling system was seemingly never satisfied with the levelness of the car and corrected itself overnight, draining the battery. Every. Night. She constantly complained about the car and finally replaced it. With a 1990 Buick Riviera.
Corporate culture is such, that when potentially catastrophic or damaging ideas are adopted, it can be hard to stop the wheels already in motion. I’m sure many young designers saw this as the cookie-cutter likely turd, it would eventually be received as.
But what do you do? Conform and save your job, or speak out, and risk being demoted or fired. Free thought likely not encouraged, at the subordinate level.
The CRT was prescient. That’s all I got.
The September 1986 issue of Consumer Reports published the results of a comparison test of an Acura Legend Coupe, Lincoln Mark VII and the Buick Riviera T-Type and Olds Toronado. In summary this is what they had to say about the Buick and Olds:
“The Buick and the Oldsmobile just didn’t seem like $20,000 cars, especially when compared with their previous versions. Equivalent response, handling, and comfort are available in lower-priced GM models such as the Buick Somerset T-Type, the Oldsmobile Calais GT, and the Pontiac Grand Am SE-and without some of the electronic gadgetry that we found so annoying in the Riviera and the Toronado.
As for the two·GM versions we tested, we would choose the Riviera T-Type. Its sporty suspension gave crisp, responsive handling and excellent braking, but the ride was harsh.
Our Oldsmobile’s standard suspension gave a comfortable and quiet ride on smooth roads, but handling and braking were substandard. We’d have preferred a suspension somewhere in between, along with the excellent Goodyear Eagle GT tires. First-year GM models have traditionally been troublesome, as our two samples amply bore out.”
Furthermore, contrary to expectations the downsized Buick and Olds with their smaller V6 engines and reduced weight didn’t achieve fuel economy that much better than the heavier, V8 powered Mark VII.
Anyone who believes that the buff books always pulled their punches to protect precious advertising revenue should read this review.
The contrast with Ford here is interesting. In the early 1980s, GM was by far the strongest of the Big Three, and freely spent money on all-new models. Ford, meanwhile, looked as though it was two steps behind Chrysler on the road to bankruptcy, so it was forced to use an upgraded Fox platform for the Lincoln Mark VII. Yet the Lincoln was still more desirable, even though it had been on the market for two years before this car and its corporate siblings debuted.
I’d still prefer the Lincoln today. I’d even prefer a contemporary Thunderbird or Cougar to any of the GM personal luxury coupes today.
Meanwhile in 1986 on the other side of the Pacific what the Riviera could have been. And where all the tech it had, and more, worked!
The 1896 Toyota Soarer
I’ve said more than enough on this and the other E-Body cars, but I didn’t have the insider stories you’ve quoted here. They confirm what is all-too obvious by the result.
As to the issue of adding 12″ of length, that turned out to be the solution within a few years. And as anyone with a modicum of engineering/aerodynamics knowledge knows, a longer body is inherently more aerodynamic than a shorter one, so the admonition to not “add a millimeter to this car” represents how GM was being run by the wrong people with the wrong mindset.
Well, touch-screen haters, it all started here (or actually it started as an option on 100 previous-generation ’85 Rivs built to get some real-life experience with the system before making it standard on the revamped, shrunken ’86 model, for a car that had already been shrunken in 1977 and again in 1979). The early negative reports like those from C/D seemed not to affect the trajectory of touchscreens in cars, which now control functions as widespread as opening or closing windows or gloveboxes and adjusting airflow direction. The tech has of course improved since 1986 – the screens are now LCD- or OLED-based and are in color, with larger screens, improved graphics, and better haptics. But still the intrinsic limitations of touchscreen control – having to take your eyes off the road to point a well-aimed finger at an icon that may or may not be on the currently-displayed screen – hasn’t changed much in almost four decades. Commonly-used controls like audio and HVAC should have their own knobs or buttons that can be operated by feel.
The rest of the ’86 Riv was as dudly as the touchscreen. Not enough rear seat legroom, the end of the flat floor as on the previous Riv, uncomfortable seats, and stubby looks that can be confused with numerous other GM cars of the era, most much less expensive than a Riv.
It took some highly intelligent people to develop touch screens. It took some real shit for brains people to put them in cars.
Could you post the Data Page as well?
I’m late in replying, but thanks for noticing. The Data Page has just been uploaded.
Thank you!
A few weeks ago I attended (put my 1988 Cimarron in) a Radwood car show which is only for cars from the 80’s and 90’s. It was a blast.
One of the stand out cars to me was a mint 1986 Buick Riv in red over silver with the CRT screen. I never really liked that vintage Riv, but that one brought me to a new level of appreciation for how advanced it was.
IIRC, after this review was published, GM reposessed C/D’s long-term Rivera just over half way through the planned 30,000 mile evaluation period.
When Reagan decontrolled oil prices in ’81, the Conventional Wisdom was that gas would go way over $2 and stay there. But it didn’t, and in ’85, Saudi Arabia opened their spigots after bribes of F16s and other military help, and it dropped under a dollar, shocking the USSR into reform and better behavior when their export income plummeted.
The early 80s thinking was probably that cars also needed to look small to sell, fuel efficiency alone wasn’t enough. In the late 80s, they had to scramble to make them look larger. The ’92 Eldorado managed to look more substantial and distinctive on the same wheelbase as the ’86.
By the mid-1980s, Alaska and the North Slope were producing oil, which reduced OPEC’s and Saudi Arabia’s ability to maintain high oil prices. That and other geopoltical factors, put more oil on the market and drove the price down.
The visual relationship of the backlight to the rear wheelhouse on both the E-body and the N-body is just disastrously bad from an aesthetic standpoint. The short tail doesn’t help, but the relationship of the greenhouse to the body makes these cars look like they were drawn by a cartoonist who hates drawing cars and doesn’t know how to get the proportions right.
My sister and BIL had a Buick rental in the late 80s while in the western US they hated it.
I needed to read something written by Brock Yates to make my day that much better.
Thank you!
I wonder how many CRTs in surviving Rivieras of this era are still even functioning?
The CRT was a common failure point, and IIRC it takes the audio and HVAC controls down with it when it fails. I recall the cover of this C/D issue, alluding to the cathode-ray tube screen, called the featured car a Buick Riviera TV-Type.
How spacious were these in the back seat? Doesn’t look like muc room for more than 2 people.
‘Understated incoherence’ C/D said. That’s understating it. To my mind it’s the visual equivalent of trying to sneak out a fart in polite society. And suddenly discovering it was a real stinker as heads turn. What can you say?
Sorry, but Buick started it.
I still don’t understand how GM Styling could get it so, so very wrong. I mean, how could anyone raised on the ’63-5, 66-7, or ’71-2 (yeah, I like it) possibly think this was a worthy successor? On what planet? In what universe? This package size should not have been a problem. It really shouldn’t, for a competent designer. Claiming problems with the package size is just a copout, an excuse. Slope those C-pillars, and there wouldn’t be a problem. Everyone else had moved on from the formal roof coupe thing (which never really got airplay outside North America), but GM was dragging their feet.
The European companies had been producing elegant coupes in this size and smaller for decades. Even the Japanese were doing them. GM was supposed to be good at coupes – and this was the best they could manage for 1986? Just incompetent, and the market spoke.
If I could go back and speak two words to GM styling: Honda Prelude.
Yesterday, parkguys61 made an apt comparison to the JDM Toyota Soarer, whose second generation (Z20) was launched in 1986 and was precisely the kind of car this Riviera was trying to be (sleek, gadget-laden Yuppie-oriented personal luxury car with all the mod cons) in a much less inept way. The Z20 Soarer was more or less the same platform as the Supra, offering the same powertrains. The full-feature 3.0 version made a great hit with none less than LJK Setright, not a critic who was easily impressed (and who was underwhelmed by the contemporary Supra).
Indeed. But the Soarer was sleek and contemporary, whereas GM was mired up a stylistic backwater.