Last Tuesday was the final day you could have ordered a new Land Rover Defender, one of the world's last real cars. In 2013, when the British carmaker Jaguar Land Rover first announced plans to discontinue the model, I didn't really believe it: The Defender is by far the best car I've ever owned, and many others are as emotional about it as I am. Yet, here we are. Regulation and marketing-driven blandness, the enemies of everything original, have killed it.
Rover, the original manufacturer, based its design on a World War II warhorse, the American Willys MB, also known as the Jeep. In 1947, British farmers needed a cheap, sturdy off-road vehicle, and Rover built one using what was available in a war-ravaged country. With steel scarce, the body was made from cheaper aluminum. Military paint was plentiful, so you could have any color you wanted so long as it was green. The steering wheel was initially in the dashboard middle, akin to a tractor; in the 1950s, a version with tank treads was available. By then, it had already become an icon, a symbol of British patriotism: a car that rejected comfort as a concept but got the job done — and was a design masterpiece.
The modern version, called the Defender since 1991, has the DNA of its predecessor. It still has a riveted aluminum body, and it's so drafty that when you wash it with a high-pressure hose, it rains inside. It's also so noisy that a radio is almost pointless, but you do eventually get used to differentiating music from machine.