Unbuilt Garage

This is a speculative analysis of a design trend rather than a real vehicle, prompted by the uncanny sameness filling new-car configurators and social feeds.

Introduction

Let’s establish this immediately: there is no secret meeting where car designers decided, over stale coffee, to make every new car look identical. No memo. No conspiracy. And yet here we are, squinting at blurred press images and guessing whether we’re looking at a Hyundai, a Peugeot, a BYD, or something that used to be a Ford.

The idea that modern cars all look the same keeps appearing online because people aren’t imagining it. Park ten new crossovers in a supermarket car park, remove the badges, and the odds of correctly identifying half of them are slim. This isn’t nostalgia talking. It’s design convergence — deliberate, calculated, and commercially logical.

The absurdity is not that it happened. The absurdity is that manufacturers act surprised anyone noticed.

Brand DNA vs the Age of Sameness

Modern Cars All Look the Same — By Design

Car companies will tell you brand identity has never been stronger. They will point to “signature lighting”, grille shapes, and marketing phrases involving the word bold. Then they will unveil another mid-size SUV with narrow headlights, a bluff nose, a rising beltline, and wheels that appear to have been stolen from the same catalogue.

This is not a failure of imagination. It is a result of optimisation.

Design is no longer about visual personality first. It is about passing regulations, maximising aero efficiency, and offending as few people as possible in as many markets as possible. The safest design is one that feels familiar. And the fastest way to familiarity is resemblance.

This is how we ended up with an entire industry quietly agreeing on one acceptable silhouette.

Not because it’s exciting. Because it works.

Safety, Aero, and the Death of Distinction

Pedestrian impact rules demand softer edges and higher bonnets. Aerodynamic targets demand smooth surfaces, tapered rears, and flush details. Packaging requirements demand short overhangs and tall cabins. Electrification demands blanked-off grilles and uninterrupted airflow.

Stack all of that together and you do not get freedom. You get a template.

The result is a shape that is tall enough to clear battery packs, smooth enough to reduce drag, and anonymous enough to avoid polarising buyers. Designers are no longer sculptors. They are decorators operating within a rigid outline.

Yes, there are details. Yes, there are LED signatures. But these are cosmetic flourishes applied after the important decisions have already been made.

That is why modern cars all look the same. The rules decide first. Styling comes second.

The Interior Illusion of Progress

If exteriors have converged, interiors have surrendered completely.

Open the door of almost any new car and you will find a large screen, a smaller screen pretending to be a dashboard, and a notable absence of physical buttons. This is sold as modernity. In reality, it is cost control dressed up as innovation.

Screens are cheaper than switchgear. Software updates are cheaper than retooling. One interface can be deployed across multiple brands, models, and price points with minimal change.

Manufacturers will talk about “clean design” and “digital experiences”. What they mean is that everyone uses the same supplier and the same logic. Which is why a budget hatchback and a premium saloon now ask you to swipe through menus to turn on the heated seats.

This is not progress. It is standardisation.

Platform Sharing: The Quiet Culprit

Underneath the styling, the sameness becomes unavoidable.

Modern platforms are designed to underpin dozens of models across multiple brands. Wheelbases stretch. Tracks widen. Rooflines are fixed. Crash structures dictate proportions. When the bones are shared, the body cannot escape.

Once a platform is engineered to suit an SUV, a hatchback, and a crossover coupe, the resulting vehicles will inevitably resemble one another. There is only so much visual rebellion you can apply before you start fighting physics and accounting.

This is why enthusiasts feel something has been lost. Not because designers are worse. But because they are no longer allowed to be reckless.

Market Positioning and the Fear of Standing Out

Standing out used to be the point. Now it is the risk.

A distinctive design divides opinion. Divided opinion scares finance departments. The global market rewards inoffensive competence, not daring individuality. Especially when cars must sell in Europe, China, North America, and emerging markets simultaneously.

So manufacturers aim for the broad middle. A shape that offends no one. A cabin that feels “premium enough”. A driving experience tuned to be acceptable rather than memorable.

This is not laziness. It is survival.

And the brands that try to escape — the ones that gamble on boldness — are watched very carefully. If they fail, the lesson is swift and brutal.

The Role of Concept Images

Concept images circulating online often promise a return to character. Strong lines. Clear identities. Cars that look like they belong to a specific brand again.

These images are illustrative fantasies. They exist without crash tests, cost targets, or supply-chain constraints. They are what designers draw when no one from finance is in the room.

They are not lies. They are daydreams.

And they highlight the gap between what people want to look at and what manufacturers can afford to build.

Potential Specifications

What would be required to make a genuinely distinctive modern car viable within today’s constraints?

• Platform
  A bespoke or heavily modified architecture, not shared across unrelated segments. Without this, proportions remain generic.
• Powertrain
  Existing hybrid or EV systems to control costs, but tuned specifically for the vehicle rather than copied wholesale.
• Design Allowances
  Acceptance of slightly higher drag coefficients and marginal efficiency penalties in exchange for visual identity.
• Interior Controls
  A hybrid approach combining physical controls with digital interfaces, prioritising usability over minimalism.
• Production Volume
  Lower volumes accepted as a trade-off for differentiation, rather than chasing maximum global scale.
• Price Positioning
  Priced above the mainstream equivalent to justify the deviation from platform efficiency and parts commonality.

These are not indulgences. They are requirements. And each one conflicts with the way the modern industry prefers to operate.

Reality Check

Could this be built?
Yes. There are no technical barriers preventing distinct design or characterful execution.

Would it make financial sense?
Rarely. The costs of deviation are immediate and measurable. The benefits are long-term and uncertain.

Is there a realistic customer for it?
Yes, but not enough of them. Enthusiasts are loud, loyal, and numerically insignificant.

Final Verdict

Modern cars all look the same because sameness is efficient, safe, and profitable. This is not a design failure. It is a business decision executed with ruthless consistency.

The tragedy is not that character disappeared.
It’s that removing it turned out to be the sensible option.