Cartorque vol 21 - ‘the old vs the new’

There was a time, not all that long ago, though it feels like it belonged to a different universe, when hypercars weren’t just fast. They were events. Mechanical thunderclaps. The sort of machines that didn’t merely arrive; they made an entrance, kicked your door in, and demanded you stop whatever meaningless thing you were doing and pay attention.

I’m talking, of course, about the titanic showdown between the McLaren P1 and the Ferrari LaFerrari. Two cars that weren’t built to satisfy emissions targets or win approval from a committee of clipboard-wielding bureaucrats, but to answer one simple question: what happens if we throw absolutely everything we have at making the fastest, most outrageous thing on Earth?

And the answer was glorious.

Now, fast forward to today, and we have their successors: the McLaren P1 and the Ferrari LaFerrari. On paper, they’re astonishing. More power, more technology, more computing power than the rocket that sent man to the moon. They are, objectively, better.

And yet… they feel like they matter less.

Why?

Well, for starters, the P1 and LaFerrari arrived at a moment in time when the world hadn’t quite decided what a hypercar should be. Hybrid technology was still new, still a bit naughty, like bringing a flamethrower to a garden party. These cars weren’t trying to be efficient, they were using electricity as a performance weapon. It was shocking. It was rebellious. It felt like engineers had been locked in a lab with Red Bull and told to go mad.

Today? Hybridisation is everywhere. Your neighbour’s dreary crossover has it. Your mum’s shopping car probably has it. So when the W1 and F80 arrive boasting electric assistance, you don’t gasp you nod politely and say, “Yes, of course it does.”

Then there’s the design. The P1 and LaFerrari looked like they’d been sculpted by the wind itself, but with just enough madness to remind you they were born in racing departments, not wind tunnels run by accountants. The LaFerrari, in particular, had a kind of operatic drama about it, like it might burst into song if you left it idling too long.

The new cars? They’re sharper, more aggressive, more… optimised. Every vent, every flick, every crease exists because a computer said it should. And while that makes them devastatingly effective, it also makes them feel a bit like they were assembled by an algorithm that’s never once felt fear, joy, or the sudden urge to do something deeply irresponsible.

And that’s really the problem.

The old guard had soul.

The P1 felt like it wanted to kill you, but in a thrilling, cheeky sort of way, like it was daring you to be brave. The LaFerrari, meanwhile, wasn’t just a car; it was a rolling piece of theatre. You didn’t drive it so much as experience it, preferably while making noises that would concern nearby livestock.

The W1 and F80? They’re too clever. Too sorted. Too… perfect.

They don’t feel like they’re trying to rip your face off, they feel like they’ve calculated precisely how much face-ripping is appropriate, and then dialled it back 3% for safety and compliance.

And then there’s the biggest issue of all: timing.

When the P1 and LaFerrari launched, they were part of a holy trinity (alongside the Porsche 918, which we’ll politely nod at and move on). It was a battle. A proper, no-holds-barred arms race between manufacturers who wanted bragging rights, not sustainability reports. It felt like Formula 1 had spilled out onto the road.

Today, that sense of rivalry has dulled. The W1 and F80 don’t feel like they’re fighting each other in quite the same way, they feel like they’re each fighting regulations, electrification mandates, and the looming spectre of a fully electric future.

In other words, they’re brilliant… but burdened.

So yes, the new cars are faster. Of course they are. Progress demands it. But speed alone isn’t what made the P1 and LaFerrari special.

They were loud, lairy, slightly unhinged things built at a time when the rulebook still had a few blank pages left.

The W1 and F80?

They’re what happens when those pages have been filled in with very neat handwriting, and a strong emphasis on being sensible.

And as any fool knows, sensible is the last thing a hypercar should ever be.

Writer

Adam Woodruff