Chicago, 1989. Automakers and journalists are packed inside the historic Drake Hotel on the eve of one of the industry’s premier car shows. There’s always a bit of excitement in the air during press day, but this year’s event is downright frenetic. Some of the cars shown here would define a generation. In one room, Nissan takes the wraps off of the completely redesigned 300ZX. In another, Mazda gives the sports roadster segment a shot in the arm with the MX-5 Miata. Even Lincoln manages to draw a crowd for the latest iteration of the Town Car. Lost in all of this commotion is Acura. Their booth is nearly empty. The company is sure that what they’ve brought to show off will revolutionize the industry, but they aren’t getting the attention required to make a meaningful first impression.

Honda president Tadashi Kume becomes anxious. He gets up and tells the others on the panel that he’s going to check on the car. Kume takes the cover off of the low-slung sports car. The Formula red paint job dazzles under the Drake’s bright lights. It was made for moments like this. Some of Acura’s staff glance over since this is the first time that they’ve seen it, but nothing seems out of the ordinary. 

Kume then opens the door, slinks into the onyx leather bucket seat, puts the key into the ignition, and awakens the mid-mounted engine. This garners a bit more attention. They weren’t supposed to start the car, at least not yet. The boss sends the throttle through the floor, and their confusion turns into genuine concern. Acura goes into a panic. Employees run over to Kume and try to get him to snap out of it, but he doesn’t pay them any mind. He’s entirely focused on the tachometer. His foot only eases off of the pedal when the needle approaches the 8000 RPM redline. This is only for a moment. He punches it even harder, further amplifying its wail and potentially attracting unwanted attention. It’s hopeless. Some of them believe that the event is ruined. The others on the panel can do nothing but wait for security to throw all of them out.

This doesn’t happen. Instead, the symphonic engine note bleeds through the walls and tickles the ears of writers that are attending other conferences. They follow the auditory breadcrumb and find themselves in Acura’s room. Word spreads that there’s a supercar next door. Soon enough, their booth is bursting at the seams. Kume’s plan has worked to perfection. He ends the aural onslaught and exits the car to address the slack-jawed journalists. This is the NSX, and it will redefine what it means to be a sports car. 

RETURN TO FORMULA 1

Honda’s return to Formula 1 was equal parts shocking, disappointing, and entirely expected. Although then-company president Kiyoshi Kawashima announced their intent to re-enter competition in 1978, they wouldn’t involve themselves in F1 for some time. It had been a decade since Honda entered a machine in that category. In that span, motorsport went from an entirely analog undertaking to a high-tech spectacle. They needed to acclimate themselves to that environment if they had any hope of competing. Honda began participating in the World Motorcycle Championships in 1978 and organized a Formula 2 effort with Ralt in 1980. In 1983, they teamed up with Spirit and finally made the leap to F1. Spirit-Honda made its eagerly anticipated debut at the British GP partway through the season.

The team didn’t live up to the lofty expectations that the motoring press had set for them. Driver Stefan Johansson hardly made it five laps around Silverstone before being forced to retire. This was no surprise, seeing as how the machine they’d trotted out was little more than a Formula 2 body with Honda’s turbo V6 stuffed in the boot. Spirit-Honda entered six races in total that year. The few high points that they could hang their helmets on were overshadowed by mechanical issues and disheartening finishes. Honda cut ties with the manufacturer in the middle of the season and partnered up with Williams, who was in desperate need of a reliable power plant. The duo had a new car ready for the last race of the season in South Africa. Their fifth-place finish was their best placement all season.

Honda's first year back in the fire was decent enough considering the circumstances, but, for those with memories of their previous outing still in mind, it left a little to be desired. They didn't pay those championship standings any mind, however. Honda learned a great deal while developing the Formula engine and couldn’t wait to apply those lessons to their production cars. Little did they know, their renewed interest in racing would define them in ways they couldn't possibly imagine.

CONCEPTION

Honda grew from a fledgling automaker to an industry heavyweight on the back of its front-wheel drive vehicles. The N360 made them domestic threats, the Civic earned them international acclaim, and the Accord cemented them as a legitimate car manufacturer. Most companies wouldn't dare shake up the formula, but Honda isn't like most companies. They act as their own whetstone, endlessly sharpening themselves in the pursuit of perfection. Shigeru Uehara and the engineers at Honda's autonomous R&D center felt that the company's future would be in an entirely different layout.

The underfloor midship, rear wheel drive design, or UMR, would see a four-cylinder engine placed under the floor send power to the back wheels.  Development work began in January of 1984 and by February the team had constructed a test vehicle based on a Honda City. They hoped that this new configuration would give them increased utility, but in the end, they determined that FF was still the better solution. Poor NVH forced them to add sound insulation, which increased weight. The engine also made the passenger compartment uncomfortably warm. Any other company would have scrapped the project when they realized that their original theory didn’t come through, but Uehara couldn’t bear to do away with the powertrain. 

For all of its flaws, the UMR test car was absolutely thrilling to drive. The mid-mounted engine allowed for perfect weight distribution while its drivetrain layout gave it engaging driving dynamics. The center of gravity was also improved since the motor was lower to the ground. It was entirely removed from the front-drive compacts that Honda was accustomed to producing.

Uehara and his team sought to replicate and enhance those characteristics. To start, they ditched the City and began tinkering with the CR-X due to its lower center of gravity and superior sight lines. Packaging constraints restricted the amount of power that they could extract from the engine, so they had to enhance the driving experience through other means.

The research went well into the 1984 F1 season. Williams-Honda had a strong start to the year, with a second-place finish at the opening race in Brazil and a victory at the Dallas GP later in the year. Aside from this, the team wasn’t very competitive. Their machines couldn’t even finish in five of the seven remaining races. 

Honda lingered in the minds of enthusiasts despite their struggles on the race track. They shocked everyone at the 1984 Turin Auto Show when they unveiled the Pininfarina-styled HP-X concept. Its wedge styling and one-piece canopy door made the car look like vaporware, but it was far closer to reality than anyone could have anticipated. 

The HP-X placed a major emphasis on weight reduction. It made use of lightweight composite panels as well as a 6-cylinder engine from the Legend. You might consider this to be an underwhelming choice for a car like this, but it perfectly complemented its strong points. The engine was lighter than an 8-cylinder engine and its southpaw, midship placement allowed them to lower the car for better aerodynamics. It also uses underbody ground effect tricks to generate massive amounts of downforce. Keep this formula in mind: lightweight construction, a transversely-mounted V6, and exceptional aerodynamics.

The HP-X got a warm reception in Italy and showgoers wondered if a Honda sports car was on the horizon. They wouldn’t be the only ones thinking about it. Acura had only recently launched in the United States. The Legend and Integra were fine vehicles, though dealers begged Honda for a halo car to tie everything together. 

Other automakers were putting pressure on the company as well. Nissan, Mazda, and Toyota were all firmly established in the sports car world. Honda was the only major Japanese manufacturer that was absent from the party. They dominated the compact car segment and made other midsize choices an afterthought. This was just about the only domain that the company had yet to enter. A strong effort there would prove that nothing was out of their reach. 

Honda’s sudden success in Formula 1 stoked the anticipation even further. Engineers developed a new motor that debuted midway through the 1985 season. Williams-Honda remained competitive throughout and even managed to win the final three races of the year. They were able to carry their success into ‘86 en route to a constructors' champion title. Now was as good a time as any to capitalize on their exploits on the racetrack and develop a sports car. In the fall of 1985, those worlds would finally come together. 

PLANNING PHASE

To say that Honda was lacking experience in developing sports cars would be an understatement. They hadn’t made anything like that since the S800 went out of production in 1970. Some of the employees were involved in their resurrected F1 effort, but creating a racing machine for the circuit and engineering a road-going vehicle were two entirely different undertakings. With no employees with any significant experience in this field, Honda placed Shigeru Uehara in charge of the sports car project. His time presiding over the UMR test car gave him a better grasp of that segment than anyone else in the company. 

The curious minds at R&D began the development of their own sports car by studying ones from other manufacturers. Most of the vehicles that they looked at fell into one of three categories. The true exotic supercars were characterized by thrilling driving dynamics, jaw-dropping price tags, and compromised ergonomics. Mechanicals took precedence over everything else, including the driver and passenger. Thick A-pillars stiffened the chassis up, but at the cost of visibility. Massive engines directly behind the cockpit serenaded the driver with angelic symphonies. They also turned the interior into a furnace and made quiet driving nearly impossible. Tight, jumpy suspensions made short work of winding canyon roads as well as the prospect of prolonged driving.

Owners also needed to contend with offset pedals, aggressively bolstered seats, and door sills as wide as the Colorado River. Enthusiasts and manufacturers passed these flaws off as “character”, though Honda’s engineers were left scratching their heads at this dichotomy. How engaging could these cars truly be if the operator was miserable the whole time?

At the other end of the spectrum were lightweight, sporty cars. These addressed some of the shortcomings of their superlative-loaded counterparts. More conventional manufacturing processes brought prices down and opened the door for mass production. Tried and true techniques also led to better reliability. Ironically, this affordability came at a cost. Packaging restrictions and cost targets meant that power and driving engagement had to be cast to the wayside. 

Traditional sports cars, or what Honda referred to as middleweight sports cars, took up the space in the middle. They’re a jack of all trades, with satisfactory performance, comfort, practicality, and accessibility. Of course, this also meant that they didn’t excel in any one category. The abundance of creature comforts increased curb weight. Automakers tip-toed around the issue by dropping in larger engines, though more often than not, this was just to cover for underwhelming engineering.

R&D plotted their data into graphs to better illustrate their findings. This radar chart shows where different types of vehicles are ranked in terms of performance, road adaptability, comfort, and safety. Formula 1 cars sacrificed everything in the name of driving excitement. Exotics were a bit more forgiving in comparison, though livability and safety still weren’t much of a priority. Mainstream offerings were even more accessible, though this came at the cost of their performance

On their “Milky Way” diagram, the benchmarked cars were organized in relation to their power and handling. The X-axis denotes the wheelbase to weight ratio. This translates to turning and stopping ability. Running performance, meanwhile, is represented on the Y-axis as the power-to-weight ratio.

Formula 1 cars are placed in the lower left-hand corner of the graph. These have the ultimate combination of power and handling. On the upper left are the lightweight sports cars that have wheelbase to weight ratios but are down on power. The lower right quadrant houses heavy sports cars, which rely on power more than lightweight construction. Middleweight sports cars occupy the space in between.

After their extensive survey of the sports car landscape, the engineers were left with one question: where should Honda’s machine be positioned? Their data illustrated the cyclical, parasitic nature of the car development process. The exceptional performance came at the cost of comfort, accessories that improved livability increased weight, and that extra weight would negatively impact performance. Even if they could manage to blend all of these factors together, the end product would be priced out of reach of the masses. Honda couldn’t possibly have it all, could they?

Uehara wouldn’t take no for an answer. On the performance side of things, the company wanted the car to have a power-to-weight ratio in the range of 11 ½ to 12 pounds per horsepower. To achieve this, it would need a curb weight of under 3,000 pounds as well as a power rating of 250 horsepower. This wasn’t all. Honda also mandated a top speed of about 168 miles per hour, a standing quarter time of 14 seconds, and extraordinary levels of handling and braking. 

At the same time, the car had to be as easy to live with as those entry-level, mass-produced sports cars. Great visibility, reliability, comfort, and safety were also required. Integrating all of these points into one package without pricing it into the stratosphere should’ve been impossible.

Where would this set the sports car on Honda’s graphs? In the Milky Way chart, it fell well outside of the main system and encroached on the orbit of the F-1 star. Perhaps the utter insanity of what Honda planned on doing is better shown on the radar graph. The new car would split the difference between the pure sports and Formula 1 categories in the performance section. This much was reflected in the previous graph. The real surprises lie in the other areas. Honda fully expected it to be more comfortable and accommodating than anything else on the market and by a wide margin.

The team then moved on to the layout. A mid-engine, rear-drive configuration would’ve been a foregone conclusion for any other manufacturer, but Honda gave every possible system at least some consideration. They turned a front-drive system down because they had difficulty getting power to the wheels effectively. A rear-engine design would have made the car too difficult to control. All-wheel-drive seemed in line with their desire to create an accessible machine. It could handle enormous amounts of power while still being easy to rein in. They looked deeper and found that the downsides were too glaring to overlook. All-wheel drive would have made the car heavier. This probably wouldn’t have mattered for other companies, but Honda had to contend with an unforgiving 3,000-pound weight limit. They also feared that it would’ve dulled the driving experience and made the car a bit less engaging overall. Four-wheel steering was left on the cutting room floor as it would have added 64 pounds to the curb weight. A conventional power steering system was left out for similar reasons.

After all of this planning and research, the brief finally materialized. Honda would set out to create a mid-engine, rear-wheel-drive sports car that possessed the sheer performance of high-end exotics, accessibility of entry-level lightweight coupes, and comfort of mid-range grand tourers at a relatively affordable price. No other automaker had even dared to attempt something like this, and this was reflected in its codename; NS-X. NS stood for New Sports. X, meanwhile, represented the unknown.

DESIGN

There is one part of the sports car equation that we have yet to touch on: styling. It is a critical part of the formula because it serves as the first impression. A well-sorted exterior can elevate a machine and make it immortal. This also goes the other way around. Countless performers have failed to resonate with consumers because of uninspired sheet metal. It also has a strange relationship with more tangible considerations. Performance numbers and aerodynamic measurements can be measured and optimized. Styling is entirely objective, and yet it has to work in tandem with these other factors to not compromise the driving experience.

Hiroshi Zaima, the man responsible for the NSXs’ exterior design, was well aware of this. Before coming over to this project, he led the charge on three generations of the Honda Civic. These cars were masterfully packaged and made the most of their small footprint. Project leaders hoped he would bring that same utility-focused philosophy to the sports car project. 

The design process began similarly to the conceptual engineering phase, with personnel studying reference vehicles. Designers were drawn to the Porsche brand. The streamlined racers of the 60s and 70s as well as the early 911s were beautiful in their simplicity. Zaima and his staff also looked at Group C supercars. These purpose-built competition machines are characterized by their cab-forward cockpits, elongated third boxes, and distinctive aero elements.

By far the most significant influence was the General Dynamics F-16 Fighting Falcon. Although it was released in the 70s, it was still among the world’s most advanced aerial bruisers. Designers thought that they could distill its energy into a road vehicle. The F-16s’ wraparound canopy gives the pilot exceptional visibility. An unimpeded field of view would go a long way in improving day-to-day livability. The team formed their entire design brief after the aircraft, with the aim of creating a “land-roving jet fighter.”

Early sketches reflected their mission statement. Short hoods, forward-positioned cabins, and all-glass canopies were prevalent ideas in the early design stages. The look became less concrete at the rear. Designers weren’t sure how to tackle this area of the car. They tried everything from glass buttresses and liftbacks to flat decks and transparent fins. Rear overhangs are also cut short in these renderings, indicating that the decision to go with an extended tail came a bit later in the process.

Their uncertainty probably stemmed from engineering concerns. Mid-engined sports cars either use fastback or tunnelback designs. The former amends the heat and noise problems caused by the configuration at the cost of aero. Tunnelbacks are essentially the opposite, with good aero and poor thermals.

Designers decided to come up with their own solution. They looked to the F-16 once again and stretched the mono-piece greenhouse over the engine. It further emphasized the connection to the jet, but it also complicated the placement of the engine. The team’s decision to create a glass hatch also created thermal issues. It wouldn’t have been enough to keep heat and noise from entering the cabin, so they placed a barrier between the two compartments. This amended the problem, but it also added weight to the car. 

The team wasn’t sure if the compromises were worth it. At one point, the glass hatch wasn’t even included in the design. Hiroshi Zaima and chief exterior designer Masato Nakano were its most ardent supporters. The two of them felt that styling was just as important as performance and livability. They got project leader Uehara on their side, and the three of them were able to convince the board of directors to make the glass cover a reality.

Even with this out of the way, rear-end styling was still up in the air. Designers were struggling to give it a distinctive lighting signature. A critical evaluation meeting was fast approaching and Nakano needed something to show to executives. American Honda suggested small tail lamps with a flourish, but his boss told him to take the time to come up with something different. 

Time didn’t allow for him to develop something using normal procedures. A frustrated Nakano leafed through photographs of the F-16 for inspiration. An image of one taking off from an aircraft carrier caught his eye. Even in photographs, the flame trail suggested immense power and speed. How could he infuse this energy into the NS-X?

There it was. The idea came to him while he was reading the newspaper. He sketched it on the margins and then went into the studio to bring it to life. Nakano went up to a scale model with red tape in hand and covered the entire rear end with the stuff. This was well before the place had officially opened for business. Although no other designers were present, he did receive an unexpected visitor during his modeling work. Soichiro Honda dropped by to check the progress on the NS-X. He had long since been retired at this point, though he still wanted to keep a pulse on the company. Soichiro took one look at the proposal and gave it his blessing. 

To further emphasize the “jet fighter” motif, the A and B-pillars were painted black. This clearly separates the canopy from the body and makes the car appear even more inviting. Designers tried to carry this into the interior by eliminating the A-pillar from the equation. It didn’t have the effect that they desired. Thin supports certainly aided visibility, but operating the vehicle without them was a disorienting experience. Drivers subconsciously used them as guides.

We can finally begin to see the design mature in these later sketches. The team brought the tail out, darkened the roof, and further developed the full-length rear light signature. With hard work, creativity, and a bit of persuasion, Honda had truly designed their land-roving jet fighter. Though, as I’ve said before, styling is only one part of the equation. Chassis and powertrain work required Uehara and the team to venture into the unknown.

UNDER THE SKIN

The 3,000-pound directive put Honda’s engineers in a bind. It would have been nearly impossible to make the car they wanted using conventional automotive construction processes. These conditions pushed Honda to make extensive use of aluminum.

On the surface, this decision doesn’t appear to be that crazy. It’s a commonly-used material nowadays and automakers incorporated it into their processes in some way decades ago. The first sports car with an aluminum body was the La Jamais Contente, which debuted at the 1899 Berlin Motor Show. Early examples of the Jaguar XK120 also used aluminum body panels.

Simply making the exterior sheet metal out of the stuff wouldn’t be enough. They decided to make the chassis entirely out of aluminum. Again, Honda wouldn’t be the first company to do this. Both Porsche and Audi debuted show cars with lightweight aluminum frames at auto shows in the early 1980s. It’s one thing to use experimental, bespoke manufacturing procedures to create vehicles destined for the auto show circuit. It is an entirely different thing to make a reliable, relatively affordable car of that nature at scale. It hadn’t been done yet in the automotive industry.

Why even take the risk? Would aluminum be that much better than steel? For their purposes, it was. It had a third of the specific gravity of steel and had the potential to be more structurally stiff. There were also reasons why it hadn’t gained widespread adoption in this sector. Returning to the XK for a moment, Jaguar made the switch to stainless steel in 1950 to better satiate the market. Up to this point, the company had only managed to build about 200 examples. Assemblymen had a much easier time bending steel to their will than aluminum. It was also cheaper for the company to get a hold on. The manufacturing difficulties would only be compounded for Honda. They wouldn’t be building the NS-X by hand. Completely new technologies and construction techniques would be required to mass produce the car. 

Development also began around the time that the Plaza Accord went into effect. Investopedia says that it was:

“...a 1985 agreement among the G-5 nations—France, Germany, the United States, the United Kingdom, and Japan—to manipulate exchange rates by depreciating the U.S. Dollar relative to the Japanese Yen and the German Deutsche Mark.”

The weakening of the dollar would make the NS-X significantly more expensive than Honda was expecting. One source says that the agreement increased its price in the States by more than 50 percent. American Honda thought that it was going to be priced at around $20,000, so this was quite a shock for them as well. Naturally, that side of the company didn’t want to do anything that would make it even more costly. 

These issues notwithstanding, the engineers still wanted to pursue the idea. Other industries had no problem incorporating aluminum into their processes. Aluminum alloys made up about 80 percent of the bodywork on the F-16, though the most intriguing application of the material was much closer to home. Development staff used the Shinkansen to travel between Honda’s research centers. They realized that Japan’s revolutionary bullet train also made extensive use of aluminum. Transferring something from a fighter jet to a road car may have been too much of a stretch in their minds. Doing the same with an object that they interacted with regularly was much more palatable. If it could be used for the streamlined body panels of the bullet train, then it could probably be used for their purposes as well.

Metal suppliers didn’t share in their enthusiasm. When Honda told them they wanted to create a body entirely out of aluminum, they didn’t even take the company seriously. The forges came to realize that they were genuine in their request. Recognizing that they could help bring about a revolution, the suppliers agreed to assist them.

Several grades of aluminum were considered before they settled on 5000 and 6000 series variants. The former is alloyed with magnesium and was already being used in the automotive industry. 6000 series aluminum can be heat-treated which improves its strength. They would have to be modified further to meet Honda’s strict manufacturing requirements. Bringing the metals up to code was no easy task. The hours were so long that employees spent their nights in the factory looking for a solution.

Assembling the car using the tooling that they already had on hand wouldn’t have given them the finish that they desired. An article from Binzel-Abicor.com states that:

“Aluminum has one property that makes welding this metal so difficult: as soon as aluminum is exposed to the ambient air, it forms a wafer-thin layer of aluminum oxide. And it is this layer that gives the metal its unmistakable silver-gray appearance. But it also makes the aluminum corrosion-resistant to water, oxygen, and even many chemicals. It protects the aluminum, so to speak. This protection must first of all be literally »cracked« because, like a solid armor, the oxide layer prevents the arc and the weld pool from forming a connection.”

More techniques needed to be developed to create other parts from aluminum. The side sills, for example, were a major pain point. They tie the front and rear sections of the chassis together and are vital to the car’s structural stability. Typical rocker panels are made by pressing the metal into shape. Aluminum sills couldn’t be made in this manner.

These components were created through the process of extrusion. First, the aluminum is heated to about 600 degrees Celsius. This makes it malleable enough to work with. The metal is then forced through an extrusion press and takes on the form of a die inside of the machine. Finally, the completed rocker panel emerges from the other end. The new sill is much lighter than a typically formed panel and yet is significantly stiffer. This procedure is also used for the bumper support beam.

The team had developed a structure that was lighter and stiffer than that of the competition. To optimize it even further, they put their findings through a Cray supercomputer. They ran thousands of finite element analysis tests to see if they could improve upon their original concept. Autodesk breaks the software down in layman’s terms, saying:

“[It] Finite element analysis (FEA) is a computerized method for predicting how a product reacts to real-world forces, vibration, heat, fluid flow, and other physical effects. Finite element analysis shows whether a product will break, wear out, or work the way it was designed. It is called analysis, but in the product development process, it is used t  o predict what is going to happen when the product is used.

FEA works by breaking down a real object into a large number (thousands to hundreds of thousands) of finite elements, such as little cubes. Mathematical equations help predict the behavior of each element. A computer then adds up all the individual behaviors to predict the behavior of the actual object.”

The program showed them that they could make the car even stiffer by strategically placing an additional 24 pounds of metal around the frame. The shell weighed just 462 pounds with the doors, hood, and deck lid installed. This was about 40 percent lighter than the majority of steel-bodied sports cars. It was also 50 percent stronger than that of a Porsche 911 or a Ferrari 328GTB. 

Aerodynamics was also a major consideration. The team spent two months refining the shape of the NS-X in the wind tunnel. They began by testing ⅕ models at Honda’s R&D center in Tochigi. When it came time to experiment with full-scale mockups, the company used the German-Dutch Wind tunnel facility in Emerloord, Holland. This site was originally designed for aircraft, but it was also perfectly usable for automotive applications. 

Honda borrowed a technique from the circuit to improve aero even more. They installed 15-inch tires at the front of the vehicle and 16-inch tires at the back. Mid-engine and rear-engine sports cars did stagger the tire widths to improve stability, but doing the same for the diameter wasn’t nearly as commonplace. In addition to making the front of the car lower, this allowed for more increased footwell space as well as the use of smaller, lighter brakes. 

Speaking of the tires, Honda collaborated with Yokohama to create a special set of tires for the sports car. A large part of the process involved balancing the composition of two major compounds. Tread compound aids with traction while undertread compounds contribute to road feel, handling, and high-speed stability. The companies tested well over 100 formulations and burned through more than 6,000 test tires before perfecting the rubber. They finally decided on one after two years of development. The front tires are 205/50 ZR15 and the tires in the back are 225/50 ZR16s. These are wrapped around lightweight forged wheels that save 13 pounds altogether.

THE MIDAS TOUCH

Do you remember the NSX that turned heads at the Chicago Auto Show? It was just a prototype. Styling and engineering details were still being worked out. Honda didn’t plan on releasing it to the public for another year or so. This appeared to be more than enough time to wrap up development, but they were further away from the finish line than they initially thought.

While the show car was turning heads in the Windy City, R&D was busy honing the driving dynamics at Suzuka. The chassis shined in the hairpin turns and made short work of the straightaways. R&D spent an entire month here fine-tuning the driving dynamics, and at the end of their tests, the NSX was almost good enough to sign off on. Before they went any further, they seized the opportunity to get one of the most talented drivers of all time behind the wheel. Honda was trying to get as close to an F1 car as possible. Consulting with someone entrenched in that world could provide them with valuable insight. The NSX was already damn good, but it wouldn’t hurt to double-check their work, would it?

Ayrton Senna signed with McLaren-Honda in 1988 after buying out his contract with Lotus. The team won 15 out of the 16 races that year, and Senna himself won seven of them. The World Champion traveled to Japan to test the latest McLaren-Honda machine and decided to test the prototype NSX in his spare time. Senna got in, shredded the rubber off of those purpose-built Yokohamas, and returned to the engineering team with a look of concern on his face. He only has one thing to say:

"I’m not sure I can really give you appropriate advice on a mass-production car, but I feel it’s a little fragile.”

This shocked them. They’d gone to great lengths to make it as stiff and planted as they could. The same flaws that were imperceptible to them stood out to Senna. Honda came to a fork in the road. They could write the advice off and produce the car as-is. Reviewers and the general public probably weren’t going to notice these imperfections. Besides, the frame was already lighter and stiffer than the competition, so it probably wouldn’t have been worth it anyway. They could also take the words of the world champion to heart, go back to the drawing board, and create something truly special. Honda didn’t have to think twice about it. A team departed from Japan in April and established a testing outpost at the world’s most demanding circuit.

Germany’s Nürburgring made Suzuka look like a bicycle crossing in comparison. It’s nearly 13 miles long and contains 73 turns. The track requires perfection from both man and machine, as just one mistake could spell disaster. This is where the company chose to carry out its extra research. This wouldn’t be a mere layover. Honda wasn’t leaving until the final bugs were worked out. 

The team was far removed from the company’s main group of engineers, meaning that the burden of troubleshooting issues fell to them. They developed a method of tuning the car on the spot. The component engineering chief would ride shotgun and observe the car’s performance along with the driver. If an issue did crop up, then the chief would find a solution right then and there. The data was then sent back to Japan, where the structure was optimized once again. It turns out that Honda was leaving much more on the table than they thought. At the end of their 8-month-long excursion, they managed to increase the car’s rigidity by 50 percent.

Members of the motoring press were the next people to get their hands on the NSX. CAR Magazine posted their findings in the August 1989 issue. Gavin Green praised the styling and ergonomics, though he didn’t think it was as sharp as other cars in the segment. Senna had already brought up those same issues and engineers were in Germany trying to rectify them. 

MotorTrend’s Jeff Karr, meanwhile, only had positive things to say. The company had other cars on hand to serve as a point of reference for the journalists, and he stated that Honda’s prototype felt far better to drive than the Porsche and Ferrari that he took around Tochigi’s proving grounds.

Automobile magazine even as far as to say the following.

“We are prepared to name the Acura NSX the most cooperative and best handling mid-engined car we have ever driven. It can be coaxed, cajoled, pressed, tossed, or thrown into bends, and it simply eases up to the limit with great poise and clear communication.”

And it was going to get even better.

DEEP SPACE 6

The engine had been a point of contention from the very beginning. The weight directive ruled out cumbersome eight and twelve-cylinder motors. Forced induction wasn’t considered for long either, as turbocharging would’ve disrupted the smooth power delivery that Honda desired, and supercharging systems would have added too much weight. Honda briefly considered using the 2.7L V6 from the Legend before the power metrics were finalized. Its paltry 160HP output fell far short of the 250HP required to maintain the power-to-weight ratio.

The Legend’s engine wasn’t suitable for the NS-X in its current state, but it would be the perfect testbed for their experiments. To start, they increased the cylinder bore from 87mm to 90mm and lengthened the stroke to 70mm. This early prototype motor also incorporated titanium connecting rods. These were commonplace in Formula 1 race cars but hadn’t yet been used in a production car. A titanium rod is about 190 grams lighter than a comparable steel rod and is also considerably stronger. This might not sound like much, but weight savings within the engine are invaluable. Lighter reciprocating parts produce less power loss. This makes the motor more efficient, which improves throttle response and allows for sustained operation at high RPM without any loss in durability. 

The new prototype engine was a 3.0L V6 that made 250HP. Honda could have stopped here, but then an issue cropped up that would have compromised the car’s human factors. Powerful, low-displacement 4-valve engines like Honda’s prototype motor make most of their power high in the RPM band. The NSX still would’ve been a strong performer during spirited driving, but it also would’ve been gutless during casual operation. Computerized systems that would solve this problem nowadays weren’t advanced enough in the mid-80s. The situation seemed hopeless, but then they realized that they had the solution this whole time.

Variable Valve Timing and Lift Electronic Control (or VTEC) gives the engine the ability to control the amount of air that enters the valves. It was originally designed for the 1989 Integra’s 1.6L 4-cylinder, but President Kume requested that the technology be implemented on the NSX’s V6. Each valve pair has three lobes and three rocker arms, with two overhead camshafts per cylinder row. The smaller outer lobes are designed for low engine speeds. They don’t let much air in when the camshaft tells them to open. These low-speed lobes have slightly different lift profiles. One has a total lift of 8.7mm and the other 8.3mm. This enables a swirl effect that helps to combust the air-fuel mixture more thoroughly. 

The third cam lobe, located in the center, hasn’t come into the equation yet. Although it moves alongside the outer lobes, it doesn’t affect anything because the center rocker arm isn’t directly attached to the valvetrain. Under high load, or at about 5800 RPM, the VTEC computer sends a signal to a spool valve which then directs oil pressure to activate a pin that locks the outer two rocker arms to the arm in the center. Lift on this lobe is 10.2mm. This allows for more valve float, which lets more air into the valve and in turn generates more power at high RPMs. The standard exhaust valves have lift of 7.7mm and 7.4mm. When VTEC is activated, lift extends to 9.0mm.

Honda needed to make changes to the car so that it could accommodate the larger DOHC VTEC cylinder head. The production NSX was 90mm longer and 10mm wider than the prototype. Its wheelbase was also increased by 30mm. Curb weight increased slightly from 2860lbs to 2970lb for the manual and 3058lb for the automatic.

The valve timing technology works in conjunction with another piece of engineering wizardry: The Variable Volume Induction System. Honda’s press release says:

“This system uses a separate magnesium plenum, located beneath the main intake manifold. This second plenum is separated from the primary manifold by six butterfly valves. These valves open at approximately 4800 rpm and are activated by a manifold vacuum.

When the butterfly valves are closed, the main intake manifold separates the front and rear bank of cylinders. Under this condition, the chamber creates a resonance effect which improves low and midrange torque. When the valves open, one large chamber is created and ties both banks of cylinders to the same intake plenum. This reduces the resonance effect but creates an inertia ram tuning effect which optimizes high-end breathing and provides more horsepower. This system was designed to work in concert with VTEC to improve low-end torque.”

Honda went from not knowing what was going to power the NSX to creating an engine that truly embodied the majesty of their Formula 1 machines. Cars equipped with the 5-speed manual transmission were rated at 270 horsepower, 210lb/ft of torque, and a redline of 8000 RPM. Automatics were detuned to 252 horsepower and had a redline of 7500 RPM. The NS-X achieved fuel economy ratings of 19 miles per gallon in the city and 24 miles per gallon on the highway, which was good enough to avoid the dreaded gas guzzler tax. 

Now let’s talk about how the NSXs power steering system. You may recall that I said that Honda didn’t want to go with a normal PAS setup because of the additional weight. R&D still wanted to find a solution to shore up the “human elements” part of the brief. This came in the form of the Variable Electric Power-Assisting Steering System. Here, a recirculating ball mechanism transmits power from an electric motor to the steering rack. It provides the most assistance at low speeds. At high speeds, the system does not assist at all. This was much lighter and more compact than ordinary systems and didn’t need to draw power from the engine to function. This was only available on cars equipped with automatic transmissions until 1995. Until then, stick-shift models would have to make do with a standard rack-and-pinion system.

Honda's cutting-edge sports car would need a factory to match. It wasn't enough to add lines to their existing plants. The amount of new tooling and procedures required to build the car necessitated a brand new facility. Enter the Tochigi Takazenawa Plant. The roughly 20,000 square meter plant combines state-of-the-art technologies with traditional shop principles.

There was a selection process in place before the factory even opened. Hopeful employees needed at least a decade of experience to even be considered for a position. Honda also favored those that had distinguished themselves in some way in the past. Thousands of assembly workers sent in applications, but only 226 of them were cho     sen to manufacture Honda’s halo car.

Where typical factories prioritized efficiency and cost, Takazenawa put craftsmanship and attention to detail above all else. To this end, Honda did away with the assembly line and focused the assembly process around workstations. The car is placed on a dolly and rolled from station to station. The employees at each site are responsible for one stage of the manufacturing process. And this is where the magic lies. The crew isn’t pressed for time. They can take as long as they need to ensure that their work is up to Honda’s standards.

This would also give them plenty of time to learn how to use the new equipment. Unorthodox construction methods necessitated the use of assembly rigs that could be rotated a full 360 degrees. This allowed for multiple welders to work on the car simultaneously.

Honda’s emphasis on quality even extended to the paint. Each car undergoes a 27-step, 4-bake, 4-coat process to guarantee that the paint is just as immaculate as everything else.

After the car was fully assembled, it went through a 500-meter-long inspection line where each component was tested. If everything checked out, then it was driven on an indoor test track to see if the mechanicals were in order. Finally, employees drove the car three laps around Tochigi Proving Grounds to make sure that braking, stability, and NVH were up to spec.

Production began on June 14th, 1990, and about 720 cars and been constructed by the time it officially opened at the end of August. 

After an exhausting six-year development cycle, Honda was finally ready to release the car.

MARKET INTRODUCTION

How would the world take to a Honda-branded sports coupe? Granted, the NSX would be sold through Acura dealerships, but that brand hadn’t yet established itself as a luxury mainstay. The situation could be even worse in Europe, where it would be wearing a Honda badge. Japanese manufacturers were seen as appliance-makers over there despite their best efforts. Prospective buyers might write the idea of a high-dollar exotic from the Far East off entirely. 

The company planned on building 25 cars a day and 6,000 annually. 3,300 were earmarked for the American market, 2,000 would stay put in Japan, and the remaining 700 would be exported to Europe and elsewhere. They weren’t entirely sure if 6,000 units a year would be in line with demand. It was twice as many cars as Ferrari built, but well under what manufacturers such as Porsche assembled. Building too many would have disastrous effects. Not building enough, as unlikely a scenario as it seemed, wouldn’t exactly be a bad problem to have. Still, they’d prefer to get the cars into the hands of hopeful owners sooner rather than later. 

These concerns were quickly put to rest. It went for sale in the United States first, and demand immediately outstripped supply. Not every Acura dealership was guaranteed to receive shipments and the ones that did get them in charged anywhere between $30,000 and $40,000 above the $65,000 sticker price. It was even direr on the secondary market. Private sellers were flipping them for well over $100,000. The worst part? People were fighting over each other to pay these exorbitant prices. 

It was the same story in Japan. Honda received 2,000 orders before it ever went on sale. The waitlist eventually grew to three years. Not everyone would have to stand in line, however. 17 Hiroshima residents won a lottery and received the car. Or, rather, they received the chance to jump to the front of the line so they could buy one at full price. 

The NSX was popular among the general populace, though Japanese enthusiasts couldn’t help but feel a little burned when it finally hit the market. In Honda Acura NSX: Honda’s Supercar, Author Brian Long attributes this to the higher-than-expected sticker price. He goes on to say: 

"This relatively high price (8 million yen) was possibly part of the reason for the mixed reception the car received in Japan– a country where domestic vehicles are particularly cheap. There was also confusion amongst diehard enthusiasts, who would have liked something with a little more edge, like the FD- type RX- 7. But while the Mazda appealed to a hardcore group, in much the same way as the Italian and German exotics, the Honda was aimed at a different clientele, in terms of both pricing and character."

It even sold briskly in Europe. The NSX was originally going to be sold in the United Kingdom in the Spring of 1990, but the debut was pushed back to early 1991. By the fall of that year, there was a 12-month waiting list. This was despite its starting price of 52,000GBP. 

The ridiculous global demand forced Honda to ramp up production. Takazenawa began building 32 cars a day starting in the Winter of 1990. This number temporarily swelled to 50 in the summer of 1991 in response to the massive waiting list in Japan.

The NSX continued to win over the press as well.

Road and Track named it one of the “Ten Best Cars in the World” and also said that it was the best GT for over $50,000. Automobile magazine gave it the “car of the year” award. MotorTrend even outright said that the NSX was “the best sports car ever built.” No doubt the most important test that was carried out early on was by Car and Driver. 

They put the Acura NSX against some of the most powerful and prestigious sports cars on the market at the time. Each of its adversaries had stellar levels of performance, but they also made significant compromises in terms of comfort, practicality, or price.

The Lotus Esprit was only worth a damn when the boost was on. Ergonomics were terrible, interior space was non-existent, and low-end performance was so bad that writer Patrick Bedard called it “a stumbling wimp.” The Ferrari 348 didn’t fare much better. Accommodations were nearly as sparse and it was also much too difficult to have fun with. The rear would start to give above 70 miles per hour. Keeping it in its lane became a challenge against a crosswind above 100 miles per hour. It was so sketchy that they considered holding off on their top-speed road test. Keep in mind that they’d only had to skip it once out of the previous 1,025 reviews. They did go through with it once conditions cleared up and it was just as unnerving as they were expecting.

The Corvette ZR-1 was a strong performer, but it was undone by build quality issues and an unintuitive IP. The Porsche 911 is the only car thus far that can do more than one thing well. It was practical, comfortable, and enjoyable to drive, though they did lament its $80,000 price tag.

The NSX won this comparison handily. The car had incredible high-end performance, seductive styling, plenty of on-demand power, and unparalleled usability. Perhaps the best thing about the NSX was its price. At $58,000, it was the least expensive car present. This undercut the Corvette by a few thousand and was nearly half that of the Ferrari. Honda cast a light on how flawed the cars in this rarified air truly were.

CHANGING TIDES

The turn of the decade was perhaps the best time for Honda to release the NSX. The world’s economy was strong overall and many of the car’s contemporaries were in between updates. These optimal conditions wouldn’t last. Sports cars from Japanese companies would give the NSX a run for its money. Nissan’s 300ZX debuted around the same and was a compelling package overall. At about 3,600 pounds, it was more of a grand tourer than an all-out sports car. The turbocharged version had a whopping 300 horsepower as well as a starting price of $35,000.

Mazda released a completely redesigned RX-7 in 1992. With its 255 horsepower twin-turbo rotary engine and 2,800-pound curb weight, the RX-7 quickly became the darling of the automotive media. It won out against the NSX and the Porsche 911 Turbo in a Road and Track. Motor Trend even named it their “import car of the year” in 1993.

A new Supra debuted the following year. The turbocharged variant was an exceptional performer. Road and Track recorded a 0-60 time of 5 seconds flat, a time that was bested by supercars that were many times more expensive. Throw in the offerings from Mitsubishi and Subaru and the once barren Japanese sports car segment became saturated. We know that it isn’t strictly about the numbers. The point is that the gap between the NSX and its competition was closing. And it would keep closing unless the company kept up with regular updates.

Deteriorating economic conditions also put the heat on Honda. The Japanese economic bubble burst which cooled demand for sports cars in the country. The United States, by far the NSXs most important market, was in the throes of a recession. High oil prices made the prospect of expensive, gas-guzzling vehicles less attractive globally.

These circumstances specifically affected the NSX. Diminishing interest forced Honda to bring daily production back down to 25 cars per day. Unfavorable exchange rates also pushed the price to $63,800 in 1992. This wasn’t a huge increase, but it was the start of a disastrous trend.

Honda did what it could to maintain interest in the car. The Japanese market saw the introduction of the Custom Order Plan. Originally launched in February of 1992, this program gave owners the chance to personalize their cars. Standard factory colors were sparse and fell in and out of the rotation. The Custom order plan had more variety in this regard and even had exclusive colors. Some of the iconic finishes such as Imola Orange and Lime Green Metallic could only be ordered through the program. Buyers could also choose from a range of interior colors, wood trim finishes, and wheel options. Later overhauls of the Custom Order Plan further expanded the possibilities. 

In November, Honda unveiled the NSX Type-R. This was a stripped-down variant that sacrificed comfort and livability for performance. While it didn't have any extra power, the Type-R was 264 pounds lighter than the base car. Honda did everything in their power to shave as many pounds off as possible while developing the standard version, so where did all of this come from?

Let's start with exterior changes. aluminum door and bumper beams were used to reduce weight and increase overall rigidity. The spoiler was made from a lighter composite material. NVH wasn't a priority here, so engineers were able to replace the heavy insulating panel above the engine with a mesh cover. Honda also reworked the suspension. They lowered the car by 10mm and made it noticeably stiffer. Lastly, the Enkei aluminum alloys mounted on the corners of the car saved about two pounds each. 

The bulk of the weight savings were found in the interior. Custom carbon aramid Recaros replaced the standard bucket seats. They weren't as configurable as the other ones, though they at least had power forward and backward controls. A more focused Momo steering wheel fit the NSX-Rs character, but the lack of an airbag meant that it couldn't be sold in the lucrative American market. A thinner, single-glazed glass panel was used to separate the engine bay =from the driver's compartment. The transmission also got some attention. The company claimed that the titanium shift knob was modeled after the one on the McLaren-Honda F1 car. Power mirrors and central locking were absent. The radio and air conditioning were left out normally, though they were available as options for ¥300,000 each. Even though the engine was carried over unchanged, Honda was able to increase the power-to-weight ratio by 10 percent. This was a limited production offering. Only 483 examples were built through ‘95.

The NSX became subject to Japan’s Shaken inspection in 1993.  This is a stringent 60-part checkup that all cars must undergo biennially after they’ve been on the road for three years. Most Japanese drivers would rather purchase brand new vehicles than have to deal with the draconian test. Honda knew that the car would last longer than this, so for the most diehard NSX fans, they offered a comprehensive refurbishing service. The basic refresh cost 450,000 yen and included an engine overhaul, suspension work, replacement dampers, and even a test drive on the Proving Grounds. Owners could also use this chance to repaint their car, though, at a base price of 2,000,000 yen, this wasn’t for those with light wallets. Interior refinishing options were available as well.

None of this did much to rekindle that initial interest in the car. Overall demand remained low despite a recovering global economy. By 1994, production was down to just five cars a day and the price ballooned to $73,000. Honda needed to do something drastic to keep its flagship in the limelight. The company was reluctant to develop an open-top version of the car because of weight concerns, but they were desperate to do anything to sustain enthusiasm for the NSX.

Separating the top from the rest of the body negatively affected chassis rigidity. R&D looked to the Cray Supercomputer once again to see where they can get some of the stiffness back. It identified 50 locations where they could add 55 pounds of metal. Some of the rigidity was regained by increasing the thickness of the extruded panels from 2mm to 6mm. Meanwhile, an aluminum rear bumper beam, as well as a lighter stater motor and PAS system, kept weight to a manageable level. The removable top was made from aluminum and weighed just 19 pounds. There was also a dedicated storage compartment under the rear glass. 

The NSX-T was a mere 88 pounds heavier than the base car. There was no getting around the weight gain, so the team decided to give this variant a softer character. It would provide a counterbalance to the more hardcore versions and round out the car’s lineup nicely. The car launched in the American market in March of 1995 for $81,000. Virtually all cars built from ‘95 on were T-models. The coupe wasn’t sold in the United States at all in 1995. They came back the following year strictly for special orders. Sales ticked up this year. 968 cars were sold in 1994. 1,391 found buyers in 1995. This is an increase of about 44 percent. This was only a temporary bump. In 1996, that number fell back down to 736.

The NSX family saw a major update in 1997. All cars got lighter, stronger body panels. Manual-equipped models would be powered by a new 3.2-liter motor. Horsepower numbers varied from market to market. Cars destined for the United States made 290HP while European and Japanese examples made around 280. Gearing for the stick shift was also revised. 1997 manual cars were 22 pounds heavier than the older ones. Automatic cars still used the 255 HP V6. Other changes included a new front lip spoiler, larger brakes, and an updated power-steering system.

1997 also saw the introduction of the NSX Type-S in the Japanese market. Think of it as a middle ground between the base car and the discontinued NSX-R. It manages to save 99 pounds over the standard manual coupe. This comes from the removal of cruise and traction control as well as the factory steering wheel. It even had Recaro seats and a titanium shift knob, just like the NSX-R. The S-Type Zero was offered for those looking for something even more hardcore. It had an even stiffer suspension, less soundproofing, no stereo, and no air conditioning. It was a whole 110 pounds lighter than a regular Type-S. One magazine clocked its 0-60 time at 4.9 seconds. The Type-S started at 10.3 million yen and the Zero cost 9.8 million yen.

In the Spring of 1999, Honda released the Zanardi edition. It was named after Alex Zanardi and it was built to celebrate his Indycar victories in 1997 and 1998. This is essentially a Type-S for the American market. It carries over the lightweight aluminum spoiler, titanium shift knob, and single-glazed interior divider from that model. It weighed 149 pounds less than an NSX-T and 54 pounds lighter than a standard fixed-head coupe. This version was a bit heavier than the Japan-exclusive trims. A Type-S was 99 pounds lighter than a Zanardi while the S-Type Zero weighed 211 pounds lighter. The Zanardi was only produced for the 1999 model year and only 51 examples were built in total. It came in at about $88,000, which was the same price as a base NSX. This is one of the most desirable variants of the car. In Sepember of 2020, a Zanardi NSX sold for $277,000 on BringaTrailer.

 HEAT DEATH

The once-thriving sports car market had become a shadow of its former self by the turn of the millennium. Mazda snatched the RX-7 from American shores back in 1995. Nissan stopped selling the 300ZX there in 1996. Even Toyota needed to cut off sales of the Supra in 1998. The NSX was among the last of them standing.

Honda previewed a refreshed model at the 2001 Tokyo Motor Show. The NSX-R prototype sported a redesigned front clip, more aerodynamic fixed headlamps, and plenty of carbon fiber throughout. The production car was introduced to the American market in January of 2002. It looked like a substantial mechanical update, but the changes were almost entirely cosmetic. It was so surface-level that the chassis code was carried over from the previous year. For comparison’s sake, the update in 1997 was significant to warrant such a change. It wasn’t entirely for the sake of style. The alterations were said to have increased the car’s top speed by four percent, to 175 miles per hour. Honda asked for $89,000 for both the 290hp manual version and the 252hp automatic.

This was the most complete NSX lineup ever. The coupe offered the classic experience while the T had a more mellow character. The Type S was available for those looking for something with a bit more edge. At the very top of the totem pole was the reborn Type-R.

It wasn’t just a concept. Honda reintroduced the NSX Type-R in May of 2002. It had many of the R’s hallmarks, such as the three-spoke Momo steering wheel and the titanium shift knob, but it also made strides of its own. The concept’s bare carbon hood was swapped for a body color one. At the time, it was the largest single-piece carbon fiber hood used on a production car. This contributed to a curb weight of about 2,800 pounds. Its flat underbody also improved aerodynamics. The car was priced at just under 12 million yen. Only 160 of these were produced.

The Takanezawa plant closed down in the summer of 2004. To commemorate its lasting legacy, Honda organized a “farewell tour” of sorts. Roughly 100 owners were present to pay their respects. Production moved to the Suzuka factory. You could interpret this move as a way for them to consolidate their facilities, but it was obvious that the end was near.

It went out with a bang. The NSX-R GT was released in March of 2005. It had a more aggressive front clip, a massive air intake over the rear window, and a revised spoiler arrangement. Its existence had less to do with the death of Honda’s flagship and more to do with competition regulations. Super GT homologation rules forced Honda to build five road vehicles. At a price of 50,000,000 Japanese Yen, it was well out of reach for the vast majority of people. Those that could afford it couldn’t rationalize spending that much on what was essentially a Type-R with a kit. Yoshiaki Yoshida, the head of DHC Corp, was the only guy to put up the money.

And with that, the NSX was finished. Honda quietly put it out to pasture in the summer of 2005. 18,896 cars were built over its 15-year production run. (Cut Audio here) 1991 saw the most cars produced, with a little over 8,400 cars built. The final year of production had the fewest built, with only 130 in total.  About 9,000 of them were sold in the United States. As we can see from these production numbers, Honda only crossed the 6,000/year mark once.

Although the car didn’t see an immediate follow-up, Honda did dangle the prospect of a successor over the heads of enthusiasts. At the 2003 Tokyo Auto Show, the company showed off the HSC Concept. It carried over the main NSX hallmarks. The HSC has an aluminum frame like its production forebearer, but it also makes use of a carbon fiber exterior. It was powered by a naturally-aspirated 3.5-liter V6 that made about 300 horsepower. One thing that it didn’t have was a manual transmission. It was equipped with an F1-style gearbox with paddle-shifters. Honda claimed a 0-60 time of 4.7 seconds as well as a top speed of 186 miles per hour. After its showing in Tokyo, The HSC appeared in Detroit wearing an Acura badge. It was received very well, but it was just a show car. Honda did not intend on building it.

Early in 2007, the company unveiled the Acura Advanced Sports Car Concept. This took a very different approach to the NSX. Instead of a compact midship six-cylinder, it used a massive V10 that made about 500 horsepower. There were a few ties to the original, thorough the similarities were aesthetic more than anything. Jon Ikeda, the car’s chief designer, did an interview with Road and Track the year the car debuted. He said:

“This vehicle serves as the basic foundation of a future Acura sports car, but it is purely a design study now. We purposely injected some of the NSX’s styling cues into the ASC, such as the black canopy top and the taillight treatment, to make sure that there is some resemblance to the NSX. The front also reminds of the original NSX that had pop-up headlights. But other than that, this is a sports car that we started from scratch.”

It was closer to production than the HSC. Testing mules bearing a striking resemblance were seen at the Nürburgring around 2008. This is as far as the dream of a next-generation NSX got for the time being. The Great Recession saw to that.

The 2016 NSX embodies the spirit of the original in some regards, with its emphasis on comfort and practicality. It also strays from the plot in some pretty significant ways. It’s a 4,000-pound plug-in hybrid that is saddled down with cumbersome batteries. Driving engagement has also been traded in for outright performance. The new model, like so many other supercars, is only available with a dual-clutch automatic. This isn’t necessarily a bad approach, it just provides a fundamentally different experience from its predecessor. With the automotive industry sailing into uncharted territory, that experience might very well be a thing of the past. A car like the original NSX hadn’t existed before, and it will never exist again.