Last Ride for a Status Symbol

The buyer of a convertible car used to type himself as a free-spending sport. Today he types himself as a nostalgic eccentric. Once a symbol of status and romance, the convertible is well on its way to joining tail fins on the scrap heap. They account for only 1.5% of 1971-model sales, down from 1.6% in the 1970 model year and a peak 6.7% in 1963. The trend is toward an even lower percentage; American Motors stopped making cars with roll-down tops in 1968, and Ford may do the same in the next model year, which begins this autumn. "We are almost certain that this is the last year we will be making convertibles," says one Ford executive.

The popularity of air conditioning, which now goes into 60% of all new cars, is probably the prime reason for the convertible's demise; it offers coolness without the disadvantage of a noisy ride. Vinyl roofs, which now go on 43% of U.S.-made cars, provide the sporty look at lower cost.

The convertible also has fallen victim to major changes in the U.S. physical and social atmosphere. Riding around with the top down is a dubious pleasure in the polluted urban air of the 1970s. And Ralph Nader's safety crusade has prompted some would-be buyers to consider how they might fare in a rollover accident--even though there is no statistical evidence that convertibles are less safe. In an era of growing crime, the convertible is an easy target; knife-wielding thieves can readily slash through the top to loot or steal a parked car. Besides all that, observes Chuck Norwood, a member of Lincoln-Mercury's product-planning staff, "the convertible was part of a life-style that has changed. Men used to take their girls out on moonlit nights to country lanes" where they could lower the top and admire the stars. Today, notes Norwood, the man is more likely to take the girl back to his apartment for a more direct approach.

All is not lost for fresh-air fiends, however: automakers are increasingly replacing the convertible with the European-style sliding sun roof. "It allows light and ventilation," says Norwood, "but shuts out dirt, noise and potential thieves." Until recently, demand had been too small for automakers to set up an assembly-line procedure for making sun roofs; they still send many cars to the seven-year-old American Sunroof Co. of Southgate, Mich., where craftsmen cut a hole in the roof and install a sliding steel panel. But the market is expanding so swiftly that in January American Motors began making sun roofs on its own assembly lines.

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