C-File #158: On the Origin of Motor Vehicles

August 25, 2005

WHEN on board H.M.S. Dachshund, as machinist, I was much struck with certain facts in the distribution of the vehicles of North America . These facts seemed to me to throw some light on the origin of makes and models — that mystery of mysteries, as it has been called by some of our greatest philosophers, as well as other philosophers.

I observed that, much to my fascination, the shape and structure of each vehicle varied almost perfectly with the environment in which that vehicle moved and functioned. For example, in wintry regions of that continent I discovered that the automobiles exhibited a marvelous set of metal chains wrapped about their tires to enable greater mobility over snow and ice, whereas in warmer parts automobiles often went about with no roof at all, allowing the natural breeze to achieve a greater cooling effect. The level of adaptation exhibited from even one county to the next was something marvelous to behold – large, blocky vehicles with numerous wheels to intimidate prey, or vehicles with great, plated armor to protect itself from predators – almost as though a designer had been at work, tinkering away in a shop somewhere.

However, science, as such, must never be satisfied with reliance on deus ex machinist explanations for the wide diversity found amongst motor vehicles. For all about us, the right progress of science continually reveals to us the true origin of things – not in the unseen hand of an intelligent engineer, but in the only seemingly intelligent hand of pure chance and necessity. If our illustrious forebear Charles Darwin should uncover an explanation for the diversity of life, relying only on those things that we can see and measure, I trust that a similar explanation can be evolved for the diversity of cars, which are, to put it with a certain amount of crudity, a heck of a lot simpler than life.

It is therefore with the utmost humility and scientific discretion that I propose to you my own theory for the origin of makes and models of motor vehicles, a theory which you should accept handily once you clear your mind of the obsolete and otherworldly notion of automotive engineers.

As understood traditionally, the idea that motor vehicles were created by an engineer predicts a certain amount of uniformity in the historical record available to us (junkyards, scrap heaps, antique carshows, etc.), but alas, this is not what we find. An honest look at the scrap record (though it be limited) reveals a startling progression. The earliest motor vehicles are simple affairs, mostly undifferentiated from one another (in our earliest records, in fact, all vehicles are black ). As the years progress, automotive technology becomes more complex, more advanced, and more distinct from one unit to the next. This differentiation is of the utmost importance to the theory. Such gradual differentiation, specifically adapting each make and model of vehicle to a particular climate and purpose can only be explained not by engineers, but by the gradual accumulation of tiny, random modifications. Nothing else makes sense to explain the vast diversity of automobiles and the vast complexity within them.

The source of such astounding variation, I propose, is the clerical error . Thanks to advances in industrial reporting, it is now widely understood that automobiles are built according to a library of written specifications, which guide the manufacturing process to astonishing detail. These specifications, however, must be transferred from place to place, copied, recopied, and copied again, all as part of the natural process of automotive manufacturing. It is often observed that, during these typical processes, tiny errors occur – a smudge here, a mark there, some spilled Wite-Out here – and pass into the system unnoticed. Often these errors are harmful to the vehicle, or insignificant. But every so often, a clerical error comes along that produces a benefit, however so slight, to the vehicle, perhaps improving its gas mileage or handling. It is these changes that I propose were responsible for transforming the early predecessor of the modern motor vehicle – the horse-drawn buggy – into the variety of engine-driven transportation devices we see today. Not some ethereal “engineer” but millions upon millions of accumulated mistakes in the blueprints are responsible for cars as we know them.

This still leaves the question, however, of how these occasional helpful clerical errors are to be preserved for future model years. The answer lies in a principle I refer to as capital selection . The automotive industry is widely known to be cut-throat. A make that even slightly underperforms in the market is quickly shuffled off the sales floors. Thus, a clerical error that, for example, removed the steering wheel, would quickly remove that vehicle and its plans from the pool of capital, as nobody would purchase it. Capital selection, therefore, combined with the creative powers of clerical errors, is the primary mechanism by which cars evolved. Because this is currently the only explanation for the existence of automobiles that does not invoke an external intelligence, it is also the only truly scientific one, and the only one that should be taught in public schools.

Allow me, however, to answer some objections before they are raised. It will be argued that a mere century is not enough time to allow enough clerical errors to accumulate to convert a Model T into a Pinto, much less a Hummer. To this I must respond that a century is, in fact, an incredibly long time. The single hour it takes to view an episode of Seventh Heaven already feels like an eternity – a century worth of hours is a century worth of eternities. It must also be observed that scarcely anybody remembers what things were like twenty years ago, much less what they had for dinner yesterday. If one truly thinks about it, one would realize just how dreadfully long a century must be. As for those who doubt that enough clerical errors would be produced in such a time, I can only offer to introduce them to my own secretary, whose clerical skills will certainly allay any fears of that nature.

It will also be argued, by some, that the scrap record does not support such a mechanism, especially as our earliest records indicate a long period of stagnation with horse-drawn carriages, followed by the sudden appearance of all major engine parts around the turn of the century, in a development inaccurately referred to by some as the “Motown explosion.” Such an argument, however, merely reveals ignorance of the proposed mechanism. The development, as is widely known, was highly localized in the Detroit area, suggesting that perhaps, the initial burst of seeming “creativity” was in fact the work of a single, particularly drunken secretary. After all, it was Detroit.

Others may object that a fully functioning automotive part, such as a carburetor, could not possibly develop incrementally, as a wide assortment of parts is needed to work together or else the carburetor does not work at all. To these objectors, I may only respond by reminding them that the flow of science has been only in one direction – towards the realization that intelligence has nothing to do with anything. Although an explanation may not be currently forthcoming, it is the solemn duty of the true scientist to work in eager expectation that fruitful inquiry may one day remove all signs of intelligence from the theory.