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Skills lost forever

10 November 2025

While watching a new hybrid EV glide silently past me on the weekend while I was out getting in my 30Kms of weekend exercise, I realised something.

Kids of the future are likely never going to experience the fun and frustration I had as a teenager and young adult trying to keep myself mobile in the 1970s.

This was an era long before the cheap Japanese import second-hand cars changed everything. This was an era when the roads were filled with cars bearing the branding of Holden, Morris, Austin, Rover, Triumph, Hillman and a raft of other names that have long-since vanished into the annals of history.

Even tired old British bangers were hideously expensive back then, compared to today, and they used vastly inferior metalurgy and design which meant that regular maintenance and repairs were essential.

Tappets had to be set every few thousand miles, valves needed grinding (re-seating) every 30,000 plus rings and bearings would almost certainly be chainged several times during the useful life of an engine.

Like most people my age, I had to save for a long time to afford even the most worn-out second-hand car so keeping it on the road was something that consumed a fair bit of my spare time.

However, the benefits of all this hands-on work were immense.

I learned exactly how cars worked. My memory contained the torque figures for every bolt in the engine and thanks to my Haynes manual, I could pull that engine out of the body with the speed and precision of a Formula 1 team.

Over the years I replaced clutches, did “rings and bearings”, welded up exhausts, replaced shock absorbers and even lowered the suspension on a couple of my old bombs.

I also fitted my cars with electronic ignition (CDI) systems that were more of a placebo than an actual performance booster and, having always been an entrepreneur at heart, I went on to make a small run of these things for many of my mates.

The bottom line was that in the 1970s, maintaining and fixing your own car was almost the norm. It was not at all uncommon to get a call from a friend or the father of a friend who was lifting the head off their Hillman Hunter or Holden so as to replace the head-gasket or do a valve-grind. You’d go around and lend a hand... even if it just meant holding their beer while they struggled with a ring-spanner or rachet.

There was also a fantastic culture of vehicle modification.

We’d cut the coil springs so as to lower the suspension, fit dual-carbs instead of the stock single unit or strip down the engine and send the camshaft off to be reground with a “lumpy” profile so that you got that cool idle and a little more power at higher revs.

None of this work required a vehicle to be “recertified” or made it illegal to drive in the way that seems to happen these days.

Many of my peers in their late teens were every bit as knowledgeable and competent as qualified mechanics, some even more so – despite being self-taught.

The bottom line was that back then, we were a lot more resourceful and willing to get our hands dirty if it meant saving money – or was the difference between having a car on the road or a car on blocks in the driveway.

I feels sorry for today’s motorist.

Modern EVs are pretty much a no-go zone for the average owner, even those who might be willing to “give it a go”.

The power-train is simply too dangerous for anyone other than those trained in such work to even consider touching. Hundreds of volts, backed by hundreds (or more) of amps means that one wrong move could see you electrocuted or badly burned in the blink of an eye.

Then there are the myriad of computers that are festooned around all vehicles these days. The use of CAN-bus architecture means that even jobs as seemingly simple as replacing a tail-light or battery can require the services of a dealer to re-program (pair) the new parts with the rest of the vehicle.

Now, what was perhaps the most accessible technology to any budding DIYer is locked behind a wall of complexity, danger and technology.

While on my walk and listening to the “nothing” that is an EV passing by at 50KPH I realised that I’ll probably never again hear the highly distinctive buzz/crackle that identified the raspy exhaust of a Mini Cooper, MGB-GT or Fiat 125. That sizzle was music to the ears of an entire generation – along with (at the other end of the scale) the rumble of a mighty V8 engine.

Now all we get is tyre noise or some fake synthesized audio-track.

Sigh!

Carpe Diem folks!

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