One of the most fascinating aspects of studying automotive history – any form of history, for that matter – is understanding what might have happened, and the ramifications thereof, as much as what actually did happen and what subsequently followed.
I’ll give you an example from the annals of Porsche history and it’s one that you may not, perhaps, have heard of before. You may be aware that the 928, that V8-powered battlecruiser so beloved of 1980s managing directors and Porsche works team drivers alike, was set to be the replacement for the 911, and there is truth in that. But did you know that it was actually Porsche’s second attempt at such a task and that the first, only ever seen in the form of a daring but rather incongruous Volkswagen, would have eclipsed the 911 as early as 1975?
The story of EA266, as VW christened it, the Beetle replacement that was dropped at the 11th hour in place of what became the Mk1 Golf, is an endlessly fascinating one – and one we’ll revisit another time. In its mid-engined genes lay the bones of a 911 replacement that would take Porsche back to its compact, 356-roots. But the rest, as they say, is history and the cold draught of uncertainty hit Porsche in 1971 when the VW project was cancelled.
BEST LAID PLANS
Two things came from these tumultuous times: the 911 entered an expedited development programme that resulted in the 1974 MY G Series and the car that would eventually succeed it, the 928, was born. By 1972, Porsche was no longer ruled on a day-to-day level by the family but by its first CEO, Ernst Fuhrmann. It was he who was tasked with driving forwards with a bold new product strategy. Given that VW didn’t want the 924 project either, it was inevitable that Fuhrmann would become known in the history books as ‘Mr Transaxle’.
One element among many aspects that makes the 928 so special is that it was a ‘clean sheet’ design. That might sound surprising but, to mitigate cost and risk, there is very rarely such a thing in the automotive industry. Sometimes Porsche gets close to it (with the first 996, for example), but even that effectively inherited the rear suspension that was first tried on the 993.
The 928 was different. It was literally new in every regard and the result was a car that broke boundaries in many areas. By early 1977, the finished car was ready for the press to take a first drive and a bold new era for the company was born. This, in effect, was the 928’s first life beginning – its life as, predominantly, a sports car.
However, that ‘first life’ didn’t actually last that long and that was because although Fuhrmann had grasped the nettle and delivered what Porsche needed, so too had he alienated Ferry Porsche with his anti-911 stance and neither were the company’s sales spectacular. In 1980, Porsche made a loss. The SC was set to be the last 911 – just like the 356 SC was the final hurrah for the original air-cooled Porsche – and 911 development had ended with it.
That was the plan, at least, until Fuhrmann was suddenly no longer at his desk and a new CEO arrived in the form of German-American Peter Schutz in early 1981. His style was very different. An outsider and one invited to apply for the role by Ferry, no less, he viewed the 911 as integral to Porsche and suddenly the transaxle models were no longer front and centre of the firm’s future.
Of course, history shows that they would live on until the mid-1990s but, from this point on, they would be supplementary to the 911 core rather than a replacement. For the 928, that meant it grew into a very powerful, expensive, cross-continent GT car with occasional and not-altogether-successful dalliances with more sportingly focused interpretations.
ALL CHANGE
Back to the beginning, though, and the original 928. When it finally appeared, it featured a 4.5-litre version of the new V8, ostensibly because during its development – with a project review slap bang in the middle of the 1973 fuel crisis – Porsche’s top brass had been very concerned about launching a five-litre monster in such circumstances. Smaller engines were investigated, while the launch motor was made smaller. In November 1974, the Porsches and the Piëchs gave the final green light to the project and the marque was committed.
So, a new all-alloy V8 with bores cast directly into the block. A new gearbox, mounted as one in front of the final drive unit as a transaxle at the rear of the car and connected to the engine via a steel tube. A steel monocoque but with aluminium doors, bonnet and front wings. Aluminium double wishbone front suspension with coil springs all round…
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And then there was the solution for the rear axle. Here, Porsche’s engineers set upon another radical development, seeking to control the toe angle of the rear suspension under cornering load. The result was the ‘Weissach axle’, an ingenious piece of engineering whereby cornering load on the outer rear wheel induced a certain amount of toe in, actually assisting the car on turn-in to a corner and eliminating any undesirable sudden changes in rear axle behaviour. Think of it as a precursor to the rear-wheel steering Porsche offers on its cars of today and the objective is, in part, similar. As the 911 has grown, rear wheel steering allows the engineers to ‘virtually’ shorten the car’s wheelbase upon demand, greatly increasing agility. In short, the 928’s mechanical specification was a money-no-object engineer’s dream.
Then there was the styling. Another 928 ‘first’ was the adoption of deformable, body contoured ‘PUs’ – panels that formed the actual shape of the car, with a crash bar hidden beneath them. It was the 928 that showed how a ‘bumper’ didn’t need to be something simply bolted to a car. Such pragmatic thinking was applied to the overall design, which was the work of Wolfgang Möbius under design chief Tony Lapine. The result was a design that deliberately mirrored the ethos of the car – form following function – to purposefully clothe the 928’s advanced engineering with a skin that was deliberately unfrivolous, aerodynamic and practical, yet also instantly recognisable. Whatever your views on it, the design has surely stood the test of time and there is still nothing to this day that looks like a 928.
THE GOLD STANDARD
Launched at the Geneva International Motor Show in 1977, the new 928 cost £19,499 in the UK (or £114,797.25 in today’s money, according to the Bank of England). It offered 240bhp and 286lb/ft of torque, weighed 1,450kg and left journalists who tested it in the most part completely and utterly wowed. For some, it was almost too good. “Incredibly good roadholding – takes some of the fun out of driving,” muttered Motor Sport. What on earth were they on about?
Buoyed by a recovering economy and boosted by accolades such as the 1978 European Car of the Year (still the only sports car to ever be awarded that particular gong), Porsche gave the 928 the claws it had always intended it to have with the advent of the ‘S’ model in 1979. The capacity was increased to 4.7 litres, via a 2mm larger bore size, and the compression raised to 10.1, accompanied by a larger throttle body and a new twin-pipe exhaust. Power jumped to 300hp at 275lb/ft, while torque made a slightly less spectacular rise to 275lb/ft at a higher 4,500rpm. There were new 16” alloy wheels in a dished design with small slots cut out for cooling and rubber spoilers – a front air dam and a small ducktail rear. Climate control was standard fit and the 0-60mph dash on a manual car took just over six seconds. In the UK, the S retailed for £25,520.
It’s that early S manual I’ve been looking for. Dreaming of, even. One thing to be sure about, though: for the purposes of this story, it couldn’t be ‘an auto’. My apologies in advance to owners of 928s with automatic gearboxes, but such a 928 is a very different car and is not a sports car, especially in the case of an early example fitted with the three-speed Mercedes-Benz automatic ‘box. Then, there it is, a chance reading of a member’s submission to Registers and Simon Taylor’s Tobacco Metallic example comes into our orbit.
AN AUTHETIC ORIGINAL
And what a car! It doesn’t take long to realise once the conversation with Simon has begun that this will be arguably the closest we’ll get to sampling that original 928 sports car experience. He’s applied the kind of exacting focus to its restoration that 928s haven’t always benefitted from, largely because of their suppressed values in comparison to 911s and some of their complexities.
Most old cars thought of as ‘big’ actually seem quite small by modern standards, but that doesn’t really apply to the 928. Gain entry through the long door and settle down into the low-slung cabin and it still feels like a big, wide car. There’s room to stretch out and a glance over the shoulder reveals a pair of individual ‘plus two’ seats that are far more commodious than those in a 911. They even have their own sun visors, mounted at the rear of the roof lining, that attempt to negate the effects of sunlight streaming through the expansive rear glass and the 928’s unique rear side glass panels give excellent all-round visibility.
The switchgear is uniquely chunky – I can think of no better word for it – but, in the cabin’s logical layout, pragmatic decisions and clean design, it’s simply impossible to believe this car was designed in the early to mid-1970s. Add more plastic moulding parts, refine some surfaces and incorporate touchscreens and the jump to something contemporary is way smaller than could ever be expected. Only the driving position is a challenge for me, as there’s no reach adjustment on the wheel. The pedals and gear lever were adjustable for position in a workshop, apparently, but today I’ll be hunched forwards simply hanging onto the wheel, which is a shame.
SURROUND SOUND
Crank the big V8 into life and it’s omnipresent. Contemporary reports talked of its refinement and it’s not boisterous like a ’60s muscle car but, by the same token, there’s no denying its presence. It sounds powerful but well-bred and its character is soon obvious. It delivers its performance in one long, seamless surge of torque, neither wrinkling the tarmac at low revs nor drying up near the limiter, but instead feeling happy to work at any revolutions on the dial. The dogleg five-speeder – the merits or otherwise of which were much debated internally at the time, so it is said – is a delightfully purist addition. While not the slickest of mechanisms, it can be hustled through easily enough once you’re above second and in the H pattern.
The 928 is a car that makes you feel confident on the road and I think we need to see the weight figure in context. It’s about the same as a 992 which, for such a car, makes it very light by modern standards but rather hefty by those of the late ’70s. The panels seem to slope away from your eyeline and the whole car seems to exude a weighty, slightly macho sense of power and performance. It’s not the easiest emotion to put into words, but I imagine Han Solo would recognise it from sitting behind the yoke of the Millennium Falcon.
I start to push the car a bit harder and feel that mass slightly in tighter turns, along with a measured amount of body roll that’s absent from a ‘modern’, although not in a way that affects performance. It stops well too, particularly for its age. I’m definitely forming a rapport with it and, all the while, I’m also conscious that I’m sat in something that’s as evocative as any Porsche; chestnut leather, tan leather, brown and white pasha fabric. I mean, come on…
I LIKE THE WAY YOU MOVE
You don’t need to spend long in an early 928 manual to realise that, for blasting from one end of Europe to the other, averaging 150mph and providing real ability on the mountain twisties near your destination in all weathers, there would have been nothing to compete against it.
The other side of its personality is revealed to me on a particular stretch of B-road that rises from the floor of a gentle Peak District valley and climbs while gently twisting this way and that. It’s the kind of road where you can keep the throttle wide open at sane speeds, but it’s not possible to straight line it; you need to steer. And so the rear of the 928 digs in and catapults us skywards with a roar and I begin to turn from left to right.
The effect generated is truly surprising and, unknowingly, I’ve stumbled upon a demonstration of the Weissach axle’s qualities that’s as perfect as if we were on a course laid out on a Porsche press launch. With each turn, there’s the perception of additional rotation being generated into the corner. Imagine it as like skiing, where the slip angle in a slalom is used to aid turning. The 928 is moving around in my hands, but it’s not loose or perturbing. Instead, each sweep reveals the same measured response, of proper wheel control and an agility that, while clearly artificial, is no less effective.
This was Porsche’s big breakthrough to making the 928 handle like a sports car and it is incredibly effective. As my confidence grows, the way the 928 flows down the road becomes more convincing. It’s a car that’s perhaps inevitably happier in fast corners than awkwardly slow ones but, overall, you can cover ground at a startlingly rapid rate but, just as importantly, with an underlying sense of security.
THE ANSWERED QUESTION
What of our initial question, though – was the 928 a true sports car? When it comes to this point, I can’t provide a definite answer. I can simply provide a personal opinion that hopefully stimulates debate.
For me, the crux of this discussion has its roots in Porsche’s original product planning. By starting with that fabled clean sheet of paper and seeking to answer what amounted to almost every question that could possibly be asked, it sought to remove all vices and maximise every ability. Such an engineering-led approach would always provide an optimum solution, which is fine until the awkward, uncomfortable truth that, as humans, there will always be a small percentage of us that find value in flaws and challenges to be mastered.
If I had to choose the best transport from that year’s Porsche range, I’d have chosen the 928. If I had to choose one car to go for a drive in purely for the joy of driving, I’d have chosen a box-fresh 911 SC. I would surely get there faster in the 928, but I believe I’d enjoy the experience more in the old 911 – a car which, in 1980, was almost laughably crude next to the 928 in every respect. History tells us that there were many – enough, even – who felt the same at the time.
Such irritating human idiosyncrasies must have infuriated many within Porsche and don’t rely on rational thought. But, in spite of that sentiment, there should never be any doubt that, in the case of the 928, this was carmaking elevated to an art form.
This feature was written by Adam Towler and first appeared in the August 2025 issue of our monthly Club magazine, Porsche Post. Join today to receive your copy, as well as enjoying a host of exclusive member benefits and savings.