When I think of a company that epitomises the small British sports car best, it could only be Lotus. Founded in the early 1950s as a post-WWII effort, it had racing in its blood since the very beginnings, taking just a few years to enter Formula 1, at the same time building ultralight sports cars for the discerning weekend racer.
But just in the way Lotus embodies the British sports car manufacturer in that it makes small, lightweight cars, it’s also infamous for its past financial issues and questionable build quality. Having changed hands numerous times since the 1980s, its saving grace came in 2017 by way of Geely and Etika Automotive, with lofty goals of upping production more than tenfold from a couple of thousand per year.
Since then, however, things have indeed changed drastically at Lotus, with the brand leaving its famous motto far behind. So is there anything left behind the green and yellow badge other than a complex, heavy, electrified car? The answer, of course, is a resounding “maybe”.
What Lotus was
But before we get into what Lotus is today and what it might become, let’s start with a short history lesson, why don’t we. And it will certainly be an abridged version, because there are several period in the brand’s history that could warrant dissertations.
Lotus began in the same way that many fondly remember it – hand-built in a shed by a chap named Colin. That, of course, was Colin Chapman, and feeling like proving himself upon graduating as an engineer in 1948, he modified a 20-year-old Austin to compete in trials racing – an all-surface sort of hill climb event. Despite having just too many horses to count on one hand, the car proved successful, affording Chapman the opportunity to build and develop more cars.
In 1952, he established Lotus Engineering Company, and develops the fourth-generation Lotus sports car, the Mark IV. The car that would define the brand’s future, and still continues to be produced today, is the 1957 Mark VII – or just 7, to its friends. You’ll know it today as the basis for all of Caterham’s cars.
As many car manufacturers have experienced, racing doesn’t pay the bills. The Seven’s open-wheel, roofless design was pretty much useless anywhere else but the track and the one sunny day the UK gets per year. Needing to finance his racing efforts, Chapman began building road cars, starting with the Elite, but not willing to compromise on the lightweight experience his race cars gave. As a result, the Elite not only had a fibreglass body, but also monocoque, meaning you’d essentially propel yourself down the motorway in a wheeled bathtub. But, it was light, at only 770 kilograms. Thankfully, the fibreglass construction proved too expensive, and Lotus adopted a steel frame in the Elite’s follow-up, the Elan, keeping the same weight and setting the blueprint for how Lotus road cars would be built over the next three decades.
While Lotus’ tiny, Ford-powered tubs whizzed around twisty side roads, its name would fly high on the Formula 1 circuit. Some manufacturers are lucky to have a single iconic derriere grace their cramped racing seats, but Lotus had a whole list. Jim Clark, Graham Hill, Jochen Rindt, Emerson Fittipaldi, Mario Andretti, Ayrton Senna… And no, I won’t mention the 2010-2015 debacle of the Lotus F1 naming rights, but I will shoutout the GOAT that is Pastor Maldonado.
As the 1970s came and went rolled around, Lotus’ cars would become more luxurious, and more importantly, heavier. The coffin-shaped Elite and Eclat were a sign of things to come, and the rights to produce the 7 were sold off to Caterham. But the main issues were financial, as production fell to nearly a third of what it was at Lotus’ peak, with Chapman also potentially involved in the DeLorean scandal that would see him facing jail time.
And then, in 1982, Colin Chapman dies, and with him, the spirit of Lotus. Four years later, the company is taken over by General Motors, and their first effort is the disgraceful, front-wheel-drive Elan M100, priced higher than a Corvette but only powered by a 150-horsepower Isuzu engine. If you need any proof of how popular the model was, Lotus would end up selling the IP to Kia in 1995.
Granted, things did improve in the coming years, mostly because General Motors would let go of Lotus in 1993 (to the creator of the Bugatti EB110 of all people), only for it eventually to be sold to Proton three years later. That same year, Lotus released the Elise, a lithe little thing built from aluminium, and a promise of a return to greener pastures. Several hardcore models based on the Elise follow, and the Esprit goes out with the swan song V8, bringing us to the car that began Lotus’ turnaround in my eyes.
The 2009 Evora sported a powerful Toyota V6, but also creature comforts like a radio and window seals that wouldn’t leak, but it also weighed in at well over a ton. The Evora lasted for an astounding 12 years, and was replaced by the Emira, which despite its many plaudits, also isn’t a return to the quote made iconic by Chapman.
What Lotus is
Proton held on to Lotus until 2017, when it was announced that Geely would be taking over a 51% stake in the company, with the remainder being repurposed into the Etika Automotive portfolio of Syed Mokhtar Albukhary, Proton’s majority shareholder. The company is composed of three entities – Lotus Cars based in Norfolk, the all-electric Lotus Technology based in Wuhan, and consultancy company Lotus Engineering Limited at the University of Warwick. Lotus Cars is responsible for making the Emira and Evija, while the brand’s Chinese outfit makes the SUV, crossovery things that are the Emeya and Eletre.
As a continuation of Lotus’ consultancy and powertrain development, Lotus was supposed to co-develop high-performance Alpine models and share technology by partnering with Renault-Nissan-Mitsubishi Alliance. Two years after the 2021 announcement, however, the two never-to-be-partners confirmed that Alpine’s new EV sports cars will not use Lotus platforms.
Can Lotus be what Lotus should be?
Lotus hasn’t been what they should’ve for a number of years. The sale to GM and passing of hands all the way to Geely were not just a direct result of Chapman’s death, but also his potentially unscrupulous dealings that premeditated the brand’s financial collapse.
Even before Lotus started making heavy electric cars, vehicles like the Evora were no longer evocative of the ultra-lightweight, nimble vehicles the marque was known for. Though it was by no means luxurious, it was far and away a more comfortable experience than the barebones Exige and Elise. While we’ve seen some track-focused vehicles excel in popularity, the advent of modern safety regulations could just mean that there is no more room in the automotive world for cars like that, so it makes sense Lotus is pivoting and trying to make the most of the EV thing before everyone else jumps on board.
Having said that, we’ve seen multiple manufacturers delay their plans for all-EV line-ups, and more and more sports cars offering manual experiences once again, with less driver aids than you’d expect in this day and age. This seems like the perfect opportunity for Lotus to return to its roots, and they’re kind of doing it with the Emira – though it has already been announced that it will be Lotus’ final combustion engine car.
To answer the question I asked myself in the most roundabout, and commitment-avoiding way possible – maybe. There is certainly a growing market for manual, lightweight sports cars that do away with the electric help and touch screens, but it’s unlikely that that will be Lotus’ future. With that in mind, I can only hope that Lotus will endeavour to return to their roots, but only with electric power. I mean, how cool would a small, sub-1,000kg Lotus with instant torque and about 300 horsepower be? With vehicles like the Emeya and Eletre entering the line-up, though, I’m not confident.
That said, there is a glimmer of hope that remains. The Lotus 66 could be a sign that there are still some people left that want to bring the Lotus name back to its former glory. This track day monster produces 830 horsepower from a Chevy V8, weighing 800 kilograms and clad in a sleek Can-Am-style body that never made production when it was originally envisioned in 1969.
Now, the 66 has a similar issue as the original 7, in that it’s unusable apart from a smooth track, with the added problem of being limited to ten cars and costing over a million quid. But I’ll hold on to just about anything I can at this point.
