Some think that if you enjoy the sound of a V8 and a whiff of burnt rubber, you’re a climate-denying dinosaur. Time to set the steering straight
I know that I’m pigeon-holed sometimes. And I know why. I love cars, especially big hairy monstrous motors that smoke their tyres and obliterate decibel detectors.
Yes, my name is Shahzad and I’m an Autoholic. I confess the thrum of a V8 turns me on, octane is my cologne, and a gear-snatching, wheel-twirling thrash up a twisty road is my therapy. Cyclists are annoying, traffic cameras are the enemy, and the Highway Code is a quaint little booklet that’s just the right thickness for the wobbly leg of my coffee table.
And most damning of all, I refuse to apologise for any of this.
But I don’t Tango with Trump, nor do I want a fry-up with Farage.
Somehow, somewhere along the way, car enthusiasm got tangled up in political identity. These days, people hear ‘petrolhead’ and picture some caricature with a toothless grin and a St George’s tattoo, swigging a can of Carling and idling a smoky old Vauxhall Astra GSi in a Waitrose car park.
With all due apologies to anyone living or dead who resembles that description!
Cars Are Not Political
It needs to be said – loving cars isn’t a manifesto. It’s not a political declaration. I’ve adored automobiles and been fascinated by motor marvels since I was a kid in Primary School, staring out at the road through the fence at breaktime so I could see the cars drive past.
It was a pure visceral and emotional response to mechanical beauty, sound, and motion.
At that tender age, I wasn’t aware of politics. I wasn’t aware of political parties. I wasn’t even aware of what a Prime Minister was. All I knew was the difference between a Cortina and a Capri.
I was aware that I was brown, though, and that I was unusually skinny and tall, and goofy cause my teeth stuck out. I was aware of these things, not because I’d discovered them in the mirror. I was aware of them because children can be cruel. Especially children brainwashed by the prejudices of parents from the bad old 1970s.
And then I looked in the mirror again. And I hated myself for being all those things. So I ignored the other children during the breaktime and remained at the fence, because the cars that drove by were in all different colours, and they didn’t seem to care who drove them or what colour their drivers were. Cars were cool. The other kids were fools. And that’s how I decided I’d rather live in a world of engines than echo chambers.
But Hey – Back To The Politics
Let’s be absolutely clear – I’d never vote for Reform (I honestly consider them racist, blinkered and self-serving). The Tories are trying too hard to be Reform, so they’re out. And Labour’s let everyone down already. The Liberals are less interested in policy speeches and more keen on spectacular stunts, and anyone else left isn’t really in the game.
Frankly, I can’t in good conscience give anyone my vote at this point in time.
However, I don’t deny climate change, and I’m not anti-EV. And as a Londoner, I do use public transport – quite a bit actually! But I’m also pro-car. And in my mind at least, these stances aren’t mutually exclusive.
I do get why the stereotype exists. Cars have long been tied to ideas of power, freedom, rebellion, and status.
Especially in America, where pickup trucks became props in political theatre – rolling billboards for a particular brand of patriotism. Oh, and Dodge Challengers are driven by people wearing MAGA hats. I love the Challenger too though, honestly, but I’d keep my blue BCG cap on, thank you very much.
Over time, the mad mobs in motors imagery bled across the Atlantic, and suddenly, owning anything more potent than a leaf blower meant you were part of “the problem” too.
The Great Motoring Misunderstanding
Urban planners blame us for ruining their beautiful city layouts because we need roads, and traffic lights, and directional signage, and parking and petrol stations – but they forget one thing: streets are the arteries of a town – if they don’t flow, the heart of the city doesn’t beat.
We are singlehandedly singled out for destroying the environment, while somewhere, a field of cows is quietly farting away smugly, rampant consumerism digs up the earth for raw material and leaves carbon footprints the size of continents, and we create trillionaires who couldn’t care less for planet or person.
Apparently, that’s not disgusting. But turning the key in your ignition barrel and giving it some welly is?
Social media eco-warriors call us selfish, and left-leaning columnists label us ‘dinosaurs’ – lumbering relics in love with internal combustion.
But this is all just lazy thinking.
Because being a car enthusiast isn’t about standing for or against the environment, diversity, or especially not logical ethics and morality. It’s just about enjoying cars and the company of car fans.
Automobiles are art, physics, nostalgia, and dopamine all working in perfect harmony. This is about finding joy in engineering, motion, community, and design. We’re artists in oil and petrol, storytellers on wheels.
Being a Petrolhead is Not a Political Monoculture
Go to any motor meet and you’ll see a mix of people that would make a corporate diversity officer blush. Conservatives, liberals, centrists, apolitical daydreamers – we’re all there.
The guy with the Prius might have voted Tory. The bloke in the Mustang might recycle religiously. And the woman in the classic Mini? She probably runs a sustainability podcast and just happens to love carburettors. Mould-breaking, cliché-challenging, stereotype-shattering – it all abounds.
In fact, cars unite where politics divides. They give us a shared language that transcends ideology.
When you’re talking horsepower and arguing about which was the best handling front-wheel-drive car of all time (Integra Type R or Lotus Elan M100?), you don’t care who someone voted for, where they’re from, what they believe, how they identify, or who they love.
Yes, Cars Do Need to Clean Up Their Act, But…
Look, cars have left a heavy footprint. They burn fuel, take space, and sometimes they break down at the worst possible moment just to remind you they can be bloody-minded, vengeful little metal deities when they want to!
But cars have been cleaning up their act for some time, too. Engines are more efficient, hybrids and EVs are pushing boundaries, and classic owners are quietly converting old machines to run on e-fuels or even electricity.
Here’s the thing, though: caring about cars and caring about the planet aren’t mutually exclusive. In fact, most real enthusiasts are already thinking ahead – we love driving too much not to care about the future of cars and driving.
So you see? You CAN appreciate a classic Jaguar while supporting clean fuel research. You can celebrate mechanical craftsmanship and still back renewable energy. You can love internal combustion and respect human rights.
Because here’s the truth – you don’t have to sit on the Right or the Left to subscribe to common sense. Supporting one sensible idea from one camp doesn’t mean you have to swallow the entire manifesto along with it. Life’s not binary, and politics shouldn’t be either.
Sometimes the smart lane is the middle lane – not too fast, not too slow, keeping things flowing while bridging the gaps that needlessly separate us. After all, moderation might not make headlines, but it usually gets you home in one piece with your licence intact.
I Steer Where it Makes Sense, Not Where False Leaders Lead
Here’s what bothers me most: the moral snobbery.
We’ve reached a point where enjoying driving is seen as suspicious — like it betrays some dark allegiance. But not everything you enjoy has to pass a political purity test. Some things are just good.
The sound of a V8 at full chat is good.
The way a car comes alive through a mountain road is good.
The sense of freedom, focus, and escape – that’s all good.
It’s okay to love that.
But I also know we can’t keep driving as if the world is an endless racetrack with unlimited fuel stops. We have to evolve – not because politicians tell us to, but because progress, when done right, is a form of passion too.
So yes, I’ll stand up for motorists when they’re unfairly vilified. I’ll defend every single decibel or a supercar at 7,000rpm, the right to burn rubber, and I’ll celebrate the poetry of pistons.
But I’ll also cheer for the innovators building tomorrow’s cleaner machines, because evolution doesn’t erase heritage – it builds on it.
And that’s not political, it’s passion.
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