The United States’ economic prosperity and population of over 300 million make for the world’s biggest vehicle market; the state of California alone swallows more cars and trucks per year—around two million—than all but a few countries. So the attractions for manufacturers are clear. As the saying goes: if you can make it here…

The problem is that many don’t make it here. Not long-term, anyway. Gone from these shores are such historic brands as Alfa Romeo, Citroen, Fiat, Peugeot, and Renault. Most of the blame can be laid at the feet of the companies themselves. They were unable or unwilling to make the improvements in reliability, durability, and after-sale service that the American consumer demanded.

That’s the oft-overlooked (or ignored) downside: once your vehicles are out there, your company has to take care of a group of finicky clients who have a myriad of other options. What’s your service plan? Warranty? Parts availability? Franchise footprint? Those customers are spread across a landscape of over nine million square kilometers. And those same folk are used to 24-hour roadside service and 4 year/80,000 kilometer coverage.

Two recent manufacturer’s change of ownership will be interesting to watch; both involve Middle Eastern and U.S. investors. The first, Aston Martin, looks like a good bet; same guiding light in Dr Bez, whose passion is now augmented by the expertise of Prodrive’s David Richards. Massive presale investment by Ford (which still holds a minority interest), and an established group of franchised dealers. All this could be undermined if Aston’s quality issues continue, or if its coffers don’t run deep enough for the kind of continual technological updating needed to play with the likes of Porsche and Ferrari.

TVR, the second case, seems much less certain. The enthusiasm of its new owners and their plans to sell the majority of production in America may not be in line with the massive support structures needed. Don’t get me wrong—like many of my fellow countrymen, I’ve lusted afar the Griffith, Tuscan, and Sageris. But the reality of dropping $50-100,000 on something that may not make it through the warranty period, has no track record from which to establish resale values, etc, may be too big a pill to swallow. Many of us may remain voyeurs only.

A few smaller players are figuring it out. Companies like Caterham do well year after year by offering a sensational and extreme experience, while exploiting legal ‘loopholes’ like home building to insure that the cars are sellable at a reasonable sum. But how can this translate to more mainstream (if you can call TVR that) companies whose wares are more than trackday toys?

Even local players with deep corporate ties and racing success like Saleen can find it too hard. It seems that recently, eponymous company founder Steve has had to leave the firm he founded after rows with new owners Hancock Park Associates. This brings back memories of Vector, whose founder was himself forced out by the V.C. (vulture capitalists) he brought in to help finance the company he birthed. Decades later, Vector is perhaps more famous for the posters of its radical rides that adorned the walls of two generations of teenagers, than for the supercars themselves. One wonders where the singular vision, passion, or knowledge of a Sir William Lyons or Enzo Ferrari could can fit into the quarterly report-driven automotive universe of today.

Another American company, Panoz, whose biotech fortune (from the nicotine patch) has been funneled into racing success, only sold about one hundred of its road cars here last year; this despite seventeen years in the business and compliance with the minefield of state and federal regulations that govern the car business. Their controversial looks and parts-bin interiors may not have helped matters, nor that the dealers are pretty thin on the ground. As an example, despite the fact that I live in a city of two and a half million, the nearest franchise is in Las Vegas, which is an 11-12 hour drive. Bit off-putting, that.

That brings us back to the bottom line for moving the metal in America. It’s got to be right, first time. It has to offer compelling value at whatever price it sells, either by being sexier, faster, more outrageous, or just cooler, than the establishment.

People’s expectations are very high here; there are few second chances. Even historic companies like Mercedes have watched profits nosedive—and buyers desert to upstarts like Lexus and Infiniti—when word of reliability and quality lapses became well known. Expecting clients to accept a second-rate after sales experience wont work. I wish the best of luck to TVR, et al; but the challenges of designing and manufacturing a worldclass sportscar make seem like child’s play compared to the realities of selling and servicing it in the United States long term.

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