The Human Race

Jeremy Clarkson on the Human Race (and the Toyota RAV 4)

Sometimes, I wonder how the human race has risen to the top of the evolutionary pile when almost every single decision we ever make is bonkers. You do not see blackbirds smoking cigarettes or beavers riding motorcycles. You don’t see pigeons ignoring non-organic seeds or bison at the shops buying something they know they can’t afford. You do, of course, see elephants on unicycles, but only because we think it is funny. 

Let’s look at the simple decisions I’ve made today. First of all, I hit the snooze button on the alarm clock even though I knew full well that I had to get up and go to work or I wouldn’t be finished till midnight. Then I went downstairs and had a cup of coffee, which I know will make my teeth all brown. And then I read The Guardian, which always makes me angry. 

And then, instead of going to work, I put my new cabinet for drinks and guns in the back of the Range Rover. It’s an exquisite piece of furniture, this: hand-made in Yorkshire from American walnut, with brushed aluminium handles, it takes 16 shot glasses and 16 flutes, and there are cutaway compartments for champagne, sloe gin, soup, whisky, 500 cartridges and two Beretta shotguns. 

I will use it probably twice a year and the rest of the time it will render the car bootless and consequently unable to take dogs, wellies or even light shopping. So it’s mad. So’s my new quad bike. And so is everything I’ve ever bought. I look at all the things on my desk and I wonder: what on earth was going on in my head when I chose them? The paperweight with the globe inside, the catapult, the Bugatti Veyron cufflinks, the Insanity chilli sauce and the Sony Rolly, which so far as I can tell is specifically designed to do absolutely nothing at all. 

I must have said to someone in a shop, “What does this do?”, and he must have said, “Absolutely nothing at all”, and then I must have said, “Oh good. Here’s my credit card.” How mad’s that? 

What makes this state of affairs so alarming is that stupidity isn’t simply restricted to the dull masses. Those in power can’t make a sensible decision either. 

You have had very senior politicians standing up and telling us that they know Iraq has weapons of mass destruction. And now you have Bob Ainsworth, who has deliberately chosen to grow that moustache. 

You may remember a few years ago when Britain’s transport secretary was very fat and had no 11-plus. He made the mistake of digging up the outside lane of the M4 and turning it into a bus lane. This made not just him but the whole government a laughing stock, so you’d imagine no one would make the same mistake again ... 

But they have. Only more so. For the past two years my journeys to and from London have been fraught by roadworks near where the A40 crosses the North Circular. It’s been hell and has wasted many hours of my life. But I figured it would be worthwhile because, plainly, those in charge had decided to widen the road. 

They have, too. But, amazingly, the new lanes — in both directions — are for bicycles only. I am not making this up. All that time. All that expense. And all for the benefit of a few idiots who can’t afford a car. 

To make matters worse, no provision is made for bicycles at either end of the new lanes. It’s highway, then bike lane, then highway. So you can’t try them out without being killed on the way. 

When you look at something like this you stop wondering how the human being has climbed to the top of the evolutionary pile. And wonder instead how it’s survived at all. Bicycle lanes on the main road from Oxford to London. Whoever came up with that sits on the Darwinian waterfall of change alongside the housefly. Seriously, my dishwasher has a bigger brain. 

Of course, this collective stupidity is particularly noticeable when it comes to buying cars because only a tiny minority ever buys anything even remotely sensible. For sure, some people try. They read What Car?. And they study the findings in Which?. And they take test drives and they haggle with salesmen. And then as often as not they end up with a Peugeot. Which is like studying all the travel brochures and going on holiday to Latvia. 

Style is the main problem. It gets in the way of clear thinking. We know we should have a Golf. We know it does everything we want at a reasonable price but we think it’s a bit boring to look at. So we buy a Mazda MX-5 instead. 

What possible reason is there for buying a convertible? We get extra noise, a small boot, generally less safety and for what? So that on one or two days of the year we can screw up our hairdos. 

Why buy a sports car? It’ll just be uncomfortable. Why buy a big car? You won’t be able to park it. Why buy an exotic car? You know you’re only paying for the badge. Why buy an SUV? It’s only going to make bicyclists bang on your roof and be angry. And why buy something made in France? Or Italy? Or Britain? Or America? You know it’s going to explode sooner or later. 

This brings me on to the Toyota RAV4 that’s been sitting in my drive for the past week. 

When the RAV4 first came onto the scene, it was, for sure, a pretty little thing — a slightly more grown-up Suzuki jeep — but it made very little sense at all. I mean, it was a four-wheel-drive car for the town. Graham Norton bought one, and that says it all. 

I’ve probably driven lots of RAV4s over the years but none sticks in my mind. And that’s why I kept ignoring the new one, even though I knew it was the first RAV4 to be available with a diesel engine and an automatic gearbox. Wow. 

Eventually I did take it for a drive, and overall, I have to say, it was pretty nasty. The seats were a bit hard. The diesel engine was a bit unrefined, and while the little television screen in the rear-view mirror that lights up when you are reversing was novel, it was too small to be of any use. 

However, while it may not be a particularly inspiring car to drive, or look at, it is a remarkably competent tool to own. 

While the rear door opens sideways rather than upwards, which might be a nuisance in tight parking spaces, there’s no denying there are many treats in store for the dull and the practical. Instead of fiddling about for hours to get the back seats down and ending up with broken fingernails, and them still in place, you simply pull two levers and, plop, they fold down flat. Then you have a van. 

Up front, you get leather upholstery, Bluetooth, air-conditioning, automatic wipers and headlights and heated front seats. About what you’d expect for £25,000. 

Yes, you can have more style and panache from a Ford Kuga or a Honda CR-V but they aren’t really designed to go off road and, these days, the RAV4 is. It has a device that stops you rolling back down hills — for when you can’t be bothered to use the handbrake — and another that keeps your speed down on steep descents. There’s even a locking differential. 

In other words, this is a car that can be used on the farm and on the road and on the school run and for trips to the megastore. It does what a small off-road car is supposed to do, and it was made in Japan so it will last ages. 

In short, it is the sort of car you would buy with your head. Which is why no one will buy it at all.