The Genius of Prius

The Prius is genius.

I am not basing this conclusion on the car's revolutionary Hybrid Synergy Drive®, or its super clean Advanced Technology Partial Zero Emission Vehicle rating, or its designation by the EPA as a SmartWay Elite Green Vehicle. No, I am basing this conclusion on the car's status as the only Cheap Acceptable Car®.

Let me explain. I live in a community. As in any community, a set of common customs, folkways and mores bind us together. Some of these are mandatory, such as those emanating from the CC&Rs embedded in our deeds, but most are optional. We nevertheless tend to conform our behavior to these customs, folkways and mores because it affirms our commitment to our community.

For instance, when we moved into our community, my wife drove a minivan. We quickly learned that, according to the customs of our community, minivans are driven by nannies and maids. Wives drive big luxury SUVs or Mercedes wagons. After a few months of answering questions such as "¿Habla inglés?" and "How much do they pay you?" my wife broke down and bought a Mercedes wagon.

At that time, I drove a Toyota sedan. I happen to like Toyotas, what with their rock-solid quality and Spartan design, and though sports cars certainly appeal to me, I am realistic enough to appreciate that with my commute -- bumper-to-bumper traffic at speeds ranging from 0 to 20 miles per hour -- driving a Toyota or a Porsche is pretty much the same thing. Or, even if the Porsche is marginally nicer to sit in and fume, it certainly isn't $50,000 nicer.

I was perfectly satisfied with my Toyota sedan until I started to get the looks. People would stare at me as I drove by. Lots of double-takes. It is customary in my community to wave as one's neighbors drive by. Few, if any, bothered to wave to me, certain, no doubt, that a community resident couldn't possible drive a Toyota sedan. Some asked if it was a loaner. At best, they concluded I was an eccentric cheapskate. At worst, they talked of organizing a canned food drive for my benefit.

So I broke down and leased a BMW, quadrupling my monthly car costs. It was either that or a Mercedes or a Porsche, the only acceptable car choices for men in my community at that time. The sense of relief, for me and for my neighbors, was palpable. They waved. I waved back.

Unfortunately, I'm not that happy with the BMW. It's really complicated. Perhaps for that reason, things break. The rims are always covered in brake dust. No interior storage. One measly cupholder. No iPod adapter. People assume I'm an asshole. Snooty service people at the dealer. And, sitting in traffic, day in and day out, I feel guilty that I've reduced this Ultimate Driving Machine, designed for the freedom of winding mountain roads and the Autobahn, to the Ultimate Urban Stop-and-Go Crawler, a cruel fate indeed. And a complete waste of its potential. My BMW deserves better than me.

I don't need this. And I'm pretty sure I don't need a Mercedes or a Porsche either. So I'd like to downsize, but I don't want to draw the looks again. This is where the Prius comes in.

Over the last year or so, I've noticed some of the richest members of my community driving the Prius. They don't drive it because it's cheap, or sensible, no, they drive it because it confers a special sense of sanctimonious superiority. "Look at the hardships I endure, driving this cheap-ass piece of crap Toyota, just to save your environment," they seem to be saying as they putter on by powered by a potent mixture of pious rectitude and reverse snobbery. Behold the genius of the Prius -- the modern equivalent of sack cloth and ashes.

This is why the Prius is now an acceptable car in my community. The only Cheap Acceptable Car®.

Consumer Reports recently analyzed the economics of acquiring a Prius, concluding that the tax break and the gas savings weren't sufficient to compensate for the $5,000 difference between a Prius and a mere Corolla. What Consumer Reports failed to account for is the $50,000 separating a Prius from a BMW or Mercedes or a Porsche.

That difference doesn't matter to my richer neighbors, but it matters to me. A lot. I'd like nothing more than to spend less on my next car. And now, thanks to the special status of the Prius, I can.

And it's like they throw in the holier-than-thou halo for free. What a deal!