Alec Issigonis interview
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Sir Alec Issigonis: an insight into the great man, from an interview originally published to coincide with the twentieth anniversary of the launch of the Mini.

From Autocar magazine, 25th August 1979

The genius today

Sir Alec Issigonis still has some interesting ideas on car design. Anne Hope finds he still hates all things big.

O ONE LOOKS less like a man to start the cult of the miniature — for isn't that what he did with his Mini? — than Sir Alec Arnold Constantine Issigonis. Just under 6ft tall ("I'm shrinking, my dear, it's such a bore"), his hands are huge, expressive, never still. Mischievous — or downright rude — he simply hates all things big — big cars, big organisations, big houses — and loves to shock his listeners. But at the same time he's considerate, with an old-world courtesy. Born in Smyrna (now Izmir) in Turkey in November 1905, the son of a Greek marine engineer who had taken British nationality and a Bavarian mother, Issigonis came to England when 16 and went to Battersea Polytechnic, "where in those days you could get the most wonderful training, my dear, for £3 a term".

Now he's receiving congratulations as the inventor of the Mini. So what will he be doing on 26 August this year, the 20th anniversary of the day the Mini was launched?

Probably go out to lunch in a restaurant not far from his Edgbaston bungalow — driving there in a Mini. A celebration lunch? "With my bank manager, perhaps," he said. He hates going into a strange bar or restaurant. They don't know how you want your drink mixed or what you like or don't like eating; I find that insufferable." For years he spent his holidays at Monte Carlo, always staying at the Hotel L'Hermitage, luxurious — with an ornateness and ostentation he intensely dislikes in cars. Cars — they were what I went to talk to him about — or rather, the cars which he designed: the Morris Minor, the Mini, the 1100, the 1800. "How boring, my dear." he said. What was he most proud of? "When I became a Fellow of the Royal Society and signed the book containing signatures of people such as Charles II and James Watt — that was marvellous."

I wondered about the car of the future. He shrugged. I persisted. Finally, he predicted: "In the next decade, if not before, rear-engined cars will be illegal. Apart from cars that have engines at the back, I'd never blame any car for causing an accident. I'd blame the man at the wheel — or the other wheel. People cause accidents, cars rarely do. But I think that rear-engined cars can be dangerous even in the hands of an expert. Mid-engined cars? I call them playboys' cars..."

Ten years ago he told me, "I think that all small family cars in Europe — though not necessarily sports cars — will be front-wheel-drive within 10 years. The small car will be acceptable because of its convenience in heavy traffic." Then we were in the Hyde Park Hotel, where the barman knew how to mix his Dry Martinis. I reminded him of that conversation. Was he proud that so many manufacturers had copied his ideas?

He waved his hands. "So many manufacturers are copying each other now," he said "When I designed the Mini, people said 'It'll never sell. It's too expensive for what it is'. I was told I could use any engine, but it had to be one in production. It was a good, sturdy little engine but by today's standards very expensive to make. The universal joints were made specially for us. Now the opposition are using them too." The BBC have been to interview him. He's been photographed for the cover of the Radio Times. "How boring," he said, and was told that the Radio Times had the largest circulation of any magazine in the world. "Really?" Did I want "to wash my hands?" I did. "Good — then you can see General Motors' proving ground, a big poster of the lunar landscape."

Mentioning GM reminded him of another of his pet hates — big American cars, "dinosaurs" — and he went on: "The change to smaller cars in America will take a long time. They want the biggest possible cars for the least amount of money. Our middle range cars like Cortinas they think are tiny." But the Americans were ‘downsizing’, I said, and switching to front-wheel-drive. "About time..." What did he think of GM's new X-cars? "Today's cars all look the same to me," he said, and repeated: "The US market doesn't want small cars, my dear, though the legislators may..."

So we left for lunch, Sir Alec driving — a Mini, of course. But not any old Mini — a gearless Mini. "You were asking what the car of the future might be like, my dear," he said. "It'll be a car without any gears — with forward, reverse and neutral. Mark my words, within 10 years the barbaric gearlever will have disappeared." Would we all be driving automatics, then? "Not automatics as you know them today, but gearless."

In the car, incidentally, he did not belt up. And the car had no radio. "I never wear a safety belt," he said. "It is much easier to drive without having an accident,' he added. "I have never had a car radio; I like concentrating on the job of driving. I never smoke when I drive either."

"The Chinese in their wisdom, I'm told, have a law: it's illegal to speak to a driver." So I stopped asking questions. Over lunch he talked of how he designed the Morris Minor and the Mini. "I'm the last of the Bugattis," he said. "A man who designed whole cars. Now committees do the work." Or computers? "Now meetings are held to decide where to have meetings. When I was working on the Morris Minor, a meeting with more than two people was overcrowded,' he said, ignoring my interjection about computers. Sir Alec, the designer who refuses to give up even though way past retirement age, is now a design consultant with an experimental workshop. Meetings are held — in his drawing room — every weekday morning.

Now he's receiving the congratulations. But he was among the first to congratulate Sir Michael Edwardes on his recent knightood.

Final comments from Sir Alec, talking of how he developed the Mini. "At Cowley I had an experimental department. They were making a bubble car. I said 'Never, never copy the opposition' — and there and then decided on the Mini. I feel very, very proud that so many people have copied me."

Then he let me drive his gearless Mini back to Edgbaston. It has a 1500cc engine and a torque converter and felt much like an ordinary Mini except there is no gear lever or gear selector. As I parked outside his spacious and comfortable bungalow, he noticed the car in which I'd arrived, a small car made in Japan. Small?

"Too big," he said. Any car more than 10ft long is too big as far as Issigonis is concerned.

'Well, my dear, I'm tired," he said, as I admired his clemamtis. "Would you like to see General Motors' proving ground again?"

Article kindly supplied by Ian Nicholls

Copyright © 2002 Keith Adams