The British middle manager’s car
“I am a young executive. No cuffs than mine are cleaner. I have a Slimline briefcase and I use the firm’s Cortina.” (Opening lines of ‘Executive’, by Sir John Betjeman.)
The studio audience erupted in laughter at the reference to the Ford Cortina when Betjeman recited his 1974 critique of a thrusting young exec’s materialistic and banal lifestyle on the Parkinson talk show. The Cortina, first introduced in 1962, evolved through five iterations over the next 20 years, becoming Britain’s top-selling car from 1972. Its sales were considerably boosted by demand from the corporate sector. Cortinas were doled out by the many thousands to sales folk and lower-to-middle management grades, the higher grades and the sales execs who brought in the most revenue being rewarded by more luxurious features, such as a vinyl roof, fancier wheel trim and more dials on the dashboard. Ford catered for them all.
I was never deemed worthy enough to be issued my own company car, but I do remember the prevailing automotive hierarchy during my 1970s years with National Freight Corporation subsidiaries. Reaching headier management heights would be rewarded with a Ford Granada. Higher still, a Rover P4 or SD1. The MD might get a Jaguar XJ6. This being the 1970s, reliability and build-quality issues regularly tarnished any joy gained from being higher up the company totem pole.
Seeing this late-model Ford Cortina most unexpectedly at the Lakeland Classic Car Show revived all those memories. I was occasionally entrusted to drive a boss’s Mark III back in 1974, but most driving memories stem from hiring Mark IV and V versions, or else been loaned one by stepfather Jack when in Scotland. They were a pretty OK car by the standards of the time. The jelly-mould Sierra that followed the Cortina from 1982 did not maintain Ford’s grip on the UK company sector: the Series II Cavalier picked up that baton (and I thought it was good car too.)
The British middle manager’s car
“I am a young executive. No cuffs than mine are cleaner. I have a Slimline briefcase and I use the firm’s Cortina.” (Opening lines of ‘Executive’, by Sir John Betjeman.)
The studio audience erupted in laughter at the reference to the Ford Cortina when Betjeman recited his 1974 critique of a thrusting young exec’s materialistic and banal lifestyle on the Parkinson talk show. The Cortina, first introduced in 1962, evolved through five iterations over the next 20 years, becoming Britain’s top-selling car from 1972. Its sales were considerably boosted by demand from the corporate sector. Cortinas were doled out by the many thousands to sales folk and lower-to-middle management grades, the higher grades and the sales execs who brought in the most revenue being rewarded by more luxurious features, such as a vinyl roof, fancier wheel trim and more dials on the dashboard. Ford catered for them all.
I was never deemed worthy enough to be issued my own company car, but I do remember the prevailing automotive hierarchy during my 1970s years with National Freight Corporation subsidiaries. Reaching headier management heights would be rewarded with a Ford Granada. Higher still, a Rover P4 or SD1. The MD might get a Jaguar XJ6. This being the 1970s, reliability and build-quality issues regularly tarnished any joy gained from being higher up the company totem pole.
Seeing this late-model Ford Cortina most unexpectedly at the Lakeland Classic Car Show revived all those memories. I was occasionally entrusted to drive a boss’s Mark III back in 1974, but most driving memories stem from hiring Mark IV and V versions, or else been loaned one by stepfather Jack when in Scotland. They were a pretty OK car by the standards of the time. The jelly-mould Sierra that followed the Cortina from 1982 did not maintain Ford’s grip on the UK company sector: the Series II Cavalier picked up that baton (and I thought it was good car too.)