#BrownCarGuy – News, Views & Reviews!
Imagine ordering a brand-new Toyota AE86 bodyshell for around £7,000. Fresh steel, a perfect floor, an unblemished roof and not a single crusty sill, suspicious patch or wheelarch apparently reconstructed from newspaper, filler and the lid of an old biscuit tin.
Geely is one of the world’s largest automotive groups, owner of Volvo, Polestar, Lotus, LEVC (maker of London’s new hybrid black taxis) and nearly a 10 per cent stake in Mercedes-Benz, so it already knows a thing or two about building desirable cars. The question is whether that expertise has filtered down into the new Geely Starray EM-i, a plug-in hybrid SUV that arrives in the UK with bold claims, impressive specifications and pricing that looks incredibly competitive.
If you still think MG is simply the company making affordable electric family cars, think again. I was invited to MG’s London headquarters for an exclusive technology preview, and what unfolded wasn’t merely another product presentation. It was a statement of intent. From a cheeky little electric hatch that wears its British heritage proudly on its sleeve, to a dramatic performance SUV concept, plus a roadmap for hybrid powertrains, semi-solid-state batteries and autonomous driving, MG is making it abundantly clear that it wants to be seen as far more than just a value brand.
For more than thirty-six years I’ve made my living in the media. I’ve written for newspapers, edited magazines, presented television programmes, hosted radio shows, produced online content, attended hundreds of international launches and interviewed some of the biggest names in the automotive industry. I’ve seen the media world from almost every angle imaginable. Then, six years ago, I started BrownCarGuy on YouTube, not because I had to, but because I genuinely believed something remarkable had happened. For the first time in the history of broadcasting, ordinary people had finally been given a chance to compete with the biggest media organisations on the planet.
The other day I found myself driving around London. Well, “driving” might be stretching the definition somewhat because most of the time you’re crawling along, staring at the back of somebody else’s hatchback while trying to remember whether this particular road is still 30mph, has become 20mph, or was quietly changed last Tuesday while you weren’t looking. And it got me thinking that perhaps the future of motoring isn’t going to be electric versus petrol, hydrogen versus batteries or even SUVs versus saloons. Perhaps the real battle is going to be something entirely different. Perhaps the future is going to be driverless cars versus restomods. Bear with me, because the more I thought about it, the more it actually started to make sense.
Every day, millions of motorists pull into petrol stations across Britain, glance at the pumps and make a decision that feels sensible. “I’ll treat the car to the premium stuff.” After all, it costs more, so surely it must be better? Well… not necessarily.
The British car industry has just issued one of its strongest warnings in years. Not about Chinese competition. Not about Donald Trump’s tariffs. Not even about electric cars themselves. This is about Government policy.
Remember when fixing your car was… well, fixing your car? Let’s say you clipped a wall and cracked a headlight. The dealer quoted you £500 for a replacement. You laughed politely, wandered down to your local scrapyard, picked up a perfectly good used one for fifty quid, fitted it yourself in an hour, and everyone lived happily ever after. Those days are disappearing. On many modern cars, fitting a second-hand headlight, ECU, instrument cluster, infotainment screen or other electronic component can trigger warning messages, disable functions or simply refuse to work altogether.
The car industry has always been cyclical. Sales rise and fall. Models flop. Companies merge, split, collapse and occasionally rise from the ashes. Automotive history is littered with famous names that simply disappeared, particularly here in Britain where once-proud marques have become little more than museum exhibits or nostalgic memories. What’s different in 2026 is that we’re witnessing something arguably more alarming.