NO 959 IN AMERICA In a postmortem on the cars within months of those final 1992 deliveries, Helmuth Bott admitted he was not unhappy about the U.S. restriction. “Your system in consumer protection goes 100 percent against the product and the company. And I really am glad to have all the years of so much strength and safety in our cars,” he said. “But we had stupid things, like a NASA engineer who was stopped at a red light. And a woman in a Cadillac drove into the 911. Afterwards he couldn’t use his legs anymore. We really had no responsibility for the accident. And what did we have to do? “We bought a Cadillac the same age. We found a 911 the same year. We took dummies the same weight like the man and his wife. We put them in the car and we made the accident at Weissach. And we could tell people that there is no possibility for any system to be safe if you get [hit by] a Cadillac from behind at 50 kilometers speed onto a car standing at a red light. “The whole thing cost us I think one and one half million because we had to do so many things to show there is really no fault from the car. At the end it was a compromise. The Cadillac driver didn’t have money so they said, ‘Well, there is Porsche who makes the seat. They have to pay.’ There were other incidents. A young girl with a turbo. Others. “And so if we were going to bring the 959 to the United States and anybody would drive at 320 top speed and have an accident. . . . That was the thinking behind the decision.”

By the time production of the Porsche’s 959 ended, enthusiasts and journalists recognized that this vehicle had defined a new type of automobile: the supercar. Mastering the various technologies that appeared in it and functioned on it brought Weissach engineering consulting clients for another decade. The cars appeared on the cover of every automobile magazine and hundreds of other publications that seldom paid attention to cars. But that weighed against the world economy as it shifted gears and continued to take the German currency down against the U.S. dollar. The exchange-rate balloon—and other business dreams—popped on October 19, 1987. The Dow Jones Industrial average lost nearly 23 percent of its value in a day, dropping 508 points. Porsche production had floated along in 1987, slipping to 48,520 cars with U.S. sales dropping below half, at 23,632, for the first time anyone cared to remember. For 1998, the American sales numbers dropped a third again, to 15,737. Peter Schutz cut production acutely. For 1989, Porsche introduced long-planned models created in happier, more confident days. With these launches, it still hoped to boost sales. A small run of Club Sport Carreras appeared, from which Weissach engineers had removed 110 pounds of air conditioning, insulation and undercoating, and power seat and window mechanisms. Raising the redline to 6,850 rpm brought horsepower up to 255 for rest-of-world markets and 234 for U.S. buyers. The company manufactured 381 of the coupes in 1987 and just 97 in 1989, of which fewer than a dozen reached American customers. Schutz slowed production further, furloughing employees for a week each month to keep them on payroll and the company alive.

Nearly a decade after Bott had shown Schutz his Speedster, Porsche offered a production version of that to buyers. Inspired by the original 356 from 35 years earlier, the new car incorporated a double-humped fiberglass tonneau cover over the rear package area that also hid a tricky manual top. The factory assembled 2,065. However, Schutz and Bott left Zuffenhausen before the first Speedsters drove off the assembly line. Historian Karl Ludvigsen learned that each 959 had cost Porsche 1.3 million DM, almost $720,000 at the time and nearly three times the selling price. But the convulsing economy made every miscalculation more apparent. The legacy of Ernst Fuhrmann’s expansion was three car lines that shared virtually no parts in common. For Bott, the previous eight years had been spent resurrecting and reenergizing the company’s most profitable car line and he paid rather less attention to the water-cooled products. He acknowledged that fact and he accepted the responsibility for the 959’s failure to make money even though an enthusiastic board had supported his proposals. He retired early, at age 63. Still looking for someone to blame, the supervisory board eyed Schutz. Until the world economy undercut businesses and investments of all kinds, Schutz had exceeded Ferry’s job requirements: He had made the company money and he had reunited the staff. However, his wife Sheila never had felt comfortable or welcome in the Porsche/Piëch world. She had opened a business in Florida at the beginning of 1988 and was spending more and more time there. Schutz read the handwriting on the wall. The board willingly let him out of his employment contract a year early. It was ready for change.

THE THIRD GENERATION: 964 “When we went ahead to design the 964,” Hans-Peter Bäuerle explained, “we took all that we had learned from the G model and we applied it. You could say that the G model was the test object for the 964. The new rear axle, the G50 that came in 1986? That axle was divided. And that was with the idea of the four-wheel drive of the 964. That was because Bott already had decided that we would take ideas from the 959. “That rear axle with the torsion bar was a patent of our old father Ferdinand. And nobody was allowed to put that out! The only argument that could change that—or discard it—was the fourwheel drive because we had to go to the front with a driveshaft.” The driveshaft and front differential helped the engineers with body stiffness as well. The driveshaft necessitated a higher tunnel, which provided a greater cross section. “So we said, ‘Great! If you need a driveshaft, we give you a good space for it!’” Bäuerle said. “This was the first car for which we made the endurance run on the test bench. The convertible, the G model, and the 928 ran 8,000 kilometers on the Weissach endurance road; that was the criterion for releasing them. “And for 964 we made hydro pulse tests. We worked together with the University of Darmstadt because they had done it already for airplanes. They had a 16-channel rig, eight hydraulic cylinders in front, eight in the rear. This configuration allowed the lab to exert every force, every moment that occurs during driving,” Bäuerle explained. The challenge is operating the bench so the correct forces are applied. “If you have the wrong forces, you make the whole body into powdered sugar. Everything is shattered.” It required years of track time to measure the forces that occurred and then to calculate the pressure applied by the hydraulic cylinders to get an accurate, meaningful test.

“A car is designed for 20 years, for 200,000 kilometers, under very rough conditions. So we simulated that,” Bäuerle continued. “First was with the rear-wheel drive and then with the fourwheel- drive 964. We did this in the mid-1980s. It was so good that in the beginning of the 1990s, Porsche bought its own test bench for Weissach. We saved a lot of money. You need no driver; weather conditions don’t affect the test. No tires or fuel. You need no test track. “The other advantage is we can test very early. As soon as we have the first body-in-white, hand made, we can put a dummy engine and gearbox in, two dummies in the interior for weight, a dummy tank, some axles, and start the test. Before this, you had to wait until there was a car that could run on a track. We know two years earlier now if we need to change something important. So only a handful of cars actually go on the test track today. Just for final tuning.” Despite Bott’s departure, his signature and influence were all over the 964 when it appeared as a 1989 model in late 1988. At the start of its development in 1984, with a healthy cash reserve, a new wind tunnel installed, and a new paint shop and body shop under construction (Werk V, with a sky bridge flying over Schweiberdinger Strasse to conveyor-belt car bodies from assembly to paint), Bott settled on three possible ways to take the 911 into the 1990s. One expanded the lineup by keeping the G model but adding the 964 all-wheel drive as a second model. Another option gave the G model a substantial facelift, mounting it on the new all-wheel- and rear-wheel-drive running gear. Lastly, he brainstormed with Friedrich Bezner and Manfred Bantle the benefits of designing and engineering a unitized body in which the body served as chassis on two- and four-wheel-drive running gear. The supervisory board, enamored of both its fiscal health and Dick Soderberg’s concepts for the 959, approved Bott’s third idea, but it allowed Tony Lapine’s stylists only to update the body. Fenders and headlights—essential elements that Ferry Porsche defined during the testy discussions between Komenda and his son—remained holy ground, as did the roof panel. Möbius and Soderberg collaborated on an appearance that meant to satisfy the loyalists who claimed they embraced change but never indicated how much was acceptable. The drag coefficient of the G models—0.395—embarrassed Porsche engineers and designers who knew the 959 was worlds better. They fitted a belly pan beneath the 964’s front end (shielding its front differential and driveshaft tunnel from drag), flush-mounted the bumpers, and delicately adjusted front valences to improve airflow. In back, they devised an electrically operated/speed activated rear spoiler that rose from the rear deck lid at speeds above 80 kilometers per hour. Bott and Bezner did their calculations and they established front and rear balance of the new four-wheel-drive car at 59 percent of the weight and 69 percent of the engine power on the rear wheels while the front carried 41 percent of the weight and operated with 31 percent of drive power. The driver had a manual override to electronically lock up front and rear drive. To meet the tightening nitrogen-oxide emissions standards for the state of California, engine chief Paul Hensler’s staff developed twin spark plug heads, whose better combustion through higher heat left less unburned fuel for the catalyst to consume, and it increased horsepower. But two spark plug holes compromised the space available for cooling fins. Engineers eliminated the cylinder head gasket to better transfer cylinder head heat inward to the heavily finned cylinders. It proved to be a less-than-ideal compromise and leaks occurred. Displacement settled at exactly 3,600cc by using a 100-millimeter bore and 76.4-millimeter stroke, and this new flat six produced 250 horsepower at 6,800 rpm. Its performance beat the 3.2 Carrera despite the addition of nearly 500 pounds of new electronics, computers, their wiring, front drive mechanisms, and other features to the new car.

With the new car, Porsche still had three distinct product lines, the 928, the 944 Turbo/968 models, and the 964, still with precious few shared parts. During 964 development, a brash, ambitious young production engineer named Wendelin Wiedeking accused Helmuth Bott of destroying the company through fiscal mismanagement. His comments came while exchange rates still profited Porsche, so Wiedeking’s charges fell on deaf ears among supervisory board members. Convinced no one cared, Wiedeking quit. The all-wheel-drive Carrera 4 or C4 reached dealers midway through the 1989 model year, making a bold strategy and marketing statement in the process: Four-wheel drive came first. Its sibling rear-drive C2 debuted months later. MacPherson struts attached to aluminum transverse links suspended the front end. Anti-lock brakes were standard equipment as was a high-pressure hydraulic brake booster on the C4 or a vacuum booster system for the C2. Power-assisted steering eased maneuverability. A new four-speed Tiptronic transmission operated as a full automatic or a clutchless manual gearshift. Top speed of the C4 and C2 with five-speed manual transmission was 162 miles per hour and 0-to-100-kilometer acceleration took 5.7 seconds. THE HEINRICH BRANITZKI ERA These new cars accompanied the ascent of the frugal business manager Heinrich Branitzki to take Peter Schutz’s former job. Branitzki held a degree in marketing and an interest in finances, and he had joined Porsche in 1965 just in time to see the earliest 911s head toward customers’ hands. A cautious, sensible man, he understood the company product history. The 356 lasted 17 years. The current 911 had stayed, barely changed in his view, for twenty-four years. There was no reason to expect anything less from whatever followed. At the 964 C4 introductions, he hailed the new car as “the 911 for the next 25 years.” Engineers, designers, and enthusiasts gasped. It was not that these were inferior cars, but as Bott had taught them, look only ten years down the road because with technology changes, you get there in two.

Sensibly, though, Branitzki killed several projects. With 928 sales at a level where even Ernst Fuhrmann may have considered euthanasia, proposals for a 928 cabriolet and a four-seater disappeared. Incredibly, a sharp-looking 964 Turbo held on. Designated the 965, the car that stylist Tony Hatter fashioned had strong visual ties to the 959 including its basket-handle rear wing. Bott and Bezner, as they labored to develop a turbo 965 engine, experienced similar cooling and horsepower shortcomings to those of the early 964. As alternatives, they contemplated a V-6 version of Porsche’s latest water-cooled V-8 Indy race car engine using four valves per cylinder and dual overhead cams. It was exciting technology for an exciting-looking car. By late summer 1988, water cooling the flat six appeared the best solution. “ When we went ahead to design the 964 we took all that we had learned from the G model and we applied it. You could say that the G model was the test object for the 964. — Hans-Peter Bäuerle It retained that status even through the personnel upheavals that ended 1988: Schutz and Bott, gone. Lapine, in a dispute with management while recuperating from heart troubles, was asked to stay home. Harm Lagaay, who had designed the 924 under Lapine’s direction, left Porsche, gained experience at Ford and BMW, and returned as Lapine’s successor. Ulrich Bez, another Porsche ex-pat from a previous decade, had served his time and developed cars elsewhere before coming back and replacing Bott. Bez saw two issues with the water-cooling approach: First, it was increasingly necessary. Second, it needed years, not months, to perfect it. However, it was the economy of exchange rates and the rates of exchange of personnel and ideas that shoved all such ideas off the table. Porsche needed a Turbo; even Branitzki recognized that. Bezner and Bez accepted that their sole alternative was to bring the existing 3,299cc engine into a 964 C2 body for production start in May 1990 as a 1991 model. Incorporating bits and pieces of the Sonderwunsch optional Sport kit gave them 320 horsepower output at 5,750 rpm. Federalization for American markets took another year.

The 964 left-hand-drive models manufactured beginning in February 1991 were equipped with driver and front passenger airbags. Along with the ABS, this was another of the reasons the 964 had to come to production. Porsche had introduced these two passive restraints on the 944 Turbo in 1987, becoming the first car in the world to offer both front occupants this protection as standard equipment. The 964 beat the U.S. deadline for standard driver and passenger passive protection by seven years and this generated considerable research and development business for Weissach as other manufacturers sought to meet the 1998 compliance date. For 1992, Porsche offered new 964 variations, including a Carrera RS coupe and a Turbo Look Carrera 2 Cabriolet, marketed in the United States as an America Roadster. The RS, inspired by the 2.7-liter version 20 years earlier, reduced weight wherever possible, stiffened the suspension, increased engine output by about 10 horsepower to 260 at 6,100 rpm, and essentially gutted the interior after the style of the 2.7 Lightweights. As with the predecessor, Porsche assembled three versions, a no-compromises base version, a “touring” version with sport seats and electric windows, and an even-fewer compromises road-legal N/GT configuration that filled the gutted interior with a full roll cage. Lacking catalytic converters, the Carrera RS models were not offered to American buyers, though some exist in the States now in private collections. While the Turbo Look C2 Cabrio may have been named for the 1952 America Roadster in U.S. markets, this new car was the luxury-edition update, which incorporated features yanked from the RS, plus a few duplicated from the Turbo coupes. The Turbo S topped the 964 roster, using new camshafts, improved ignition and fuel injection profiles, and slightly higher boost to achieve 381 horsepower at 4,800 rpm, compared to the normal Turbo at 355. Body engineers introduced composite and lightweight plastics for door panels and the front deck lid. As with the RS, side and rear glass was thinner gauge. For the first time, Porsche delivered a road car on three-piece composite wheels, 8x18-inch Speedlines at the front and deep 10x18s at the rear. Massive fourpiston red-painted brake calipers seized hold of cross-drilled ventilated rotors. Porsche quoted the car’s top speed at 180 miles per hour with 0-to-100-kilometer speed coming in 4.6 seconds. The factory assembled just 86 of the Turbo S models. For 1993, the final year of the 964, Porsche updated the Turbo with a new 3.6 version. The company had improved its 3.6-liter engine in its 964 series and, with substantial internal upgrades, turbocharged the engine to achieve 360 horsepower at 4,200 rpm. To stop the 174-mile-per-hour car, Weissach engineers carried over the brakes system from the 1992 Turbo S.