With the millennium approaching the end of the Mini looked nigh, but thanks to some clever engineering and a change in marketing, the late Mk7 Minis would help to change the fortune of the brand for years to come.
By 1994, things weren’t looking good for the Mini. EU regulations may not have been on Alec Issigonis’ mind when he made his first design sketches back in ’57, but come the final decade of the 20th Century they were on the verge of sealing the car’s fate.
In order for it to beat the next wave of EU measures and survive past 1996, the Mini would need to be seriously re-worked in three main areas. First off, the positively prehistoric A-series had to run cleaner and quieter than before. And not just a little bit quieter, either: the upcoming regs demanded a halving of the pass-by exterior noise level. Safety was a concern, too. For ’96, mod cons like air bags and crash protection bars would be a necessity.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, then-Rover boss Graham Day deemed these targets too difficult – and expensive – to meet. Under his leadership at least, 1996 would have spelt the end for our favourite car. Fortunately though, history took a rather different course than that.
On 31st January 1994, British Aerospace announced the sale of its majority stake in Rover Group to the German car manufacturer BMW, completely reversing the Mini’s fortunes. Why? Because Bernd Pischetsrieder, the marque’s CEO, was actually Issigonis’ first cousin once removed. Such a unique connection to the Mini’s designer left him with a similarly unique view of the Mini and its future. Once describing it as ‘the only loveable car on the road’, the BMW man certainly made no attempt to hide his affection for his distant relative’s creation.
While other chairmen may have dismissed the Mini as a relic of an altogether different era, Pischetsrieder was determined to make the necessary investment to see the Mini through to the new millennium – not only because of his fondness for the car, but because he recognised the immense potential for an all-new successor. In order to fully realise the potential of that new car, though, the classic Mini would need to soldier on for a few more years.
Development
Back in 1992, Mike Theaker and his team of engine development engineers had devised a highly advanced Multi-point fuel injection system for the Mini’s A-series engine. At the time, his design proposal was anything but well-received by company management. With no plans to continue building the Mini past ’96, Theaker’s ingenious system was destined never to see the light of day.
Four years on, now with Pischetsrieder in charge, the prototype system was taken out of storage and developed further, ultimately enabling the A-series to reach its emissions targets. To boot, the upgrade also brought with it a much improved torque curve, with peak torque now arriving considerably lower in the rev range – handy for low-speed city motoring.
Visually however, the most noticeable alteration under the bonnet was the repositioning of the radiator from its traditional location at the side of the engine to the front. This, in combination with a higher final drive ratio of 2.76, enabled the Mini to beat those pesky EU restrictions on noise and emissions levels with ease. Ok, acceleration did suffer slightly as a result of the higher final drive, but the torque advantage offered by the complex twin-point fuel injection system almost completely negated that. Performance remained class leading, with the dash to 60 mph being completed up to a second faster than in many of its rivals. As ever, nothing could touch the Mini when it came to agility and outright driving pleasure.
Perhaps the biggest obstacle engineers faced during the design of the Mk.7 Mini, however, was making the car safer. Let’s be honest, the Mini was never going to win any awards for its crash protection. After all, when it was designed in the late fifties, a car’s ‘crumple zone’ was whatever it was hitting. Or the driver’s face. Engineering a crumple zone into the Mini would be like rebuilding one of Egypt’s ancient pyramids using giant concrete blocks. Yes, you could do it, but not without completely annihilating the very features and proportions which made it such an iconic design.
That meant Rover’s engineers had to rely on ‘secondary’ safety features to increase occupant safety. A driver’s airbag, mounted at the end of a new collapsible steering column, was installed – no easy task bearing in mind the Mini’s bizarre driving position – and side-impact bars were wedged into the car’s skinny little doors. Seatbelt pre-tensioners completed the comprehensive list of upgrades.
In order for it to beat the next wave of EU measures and survive past 1996, the Mini would need to be seriously re-worked in three main areas. First off, the positively prehistoric A-series had to run cleaner and quieter than before. And not just a little bit quieter, either: the upcoming regs demanded a halving of the pass-by exterior noise level. Safety was a concern, too. For ’96, mod cons like air bags and crash protection bars would be a necessity.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, then-Rover boss Graham Day deemed these targets too difficult – and expensive – to meet. Under his leadership at least, 1996 would have spelt the end for our favourite car. Fortunately though, history took a rather different course than that.
On 31st January 1994, British Aerospace announced the sale of its majority stake in Rover Group to the German car manufacturer BMW, completely reversing the Mini’s fortunes. Why? Because Bernd Pischetsrieder, the marque’s CEO, was actually Issigonis’ first cousin once removed. Such a unique connection to the Mini’s designer left him with a similarly unique view of the Mini and its future. Once describing it as ‘the only loveable car on the road’, the BMW man certainly made no attempt to hide his affection for his distant relative’s creation.
While other chairmen may have dismissed the Mini as a relic of an altogether different era, Pischetsrieder was determined to make the necessary investment to see the Mini through to the new millennium – not only because of his fondness for the car, but because he recognised the immense potential for an all-new successor. In order to fully realise the potential of that new car, though, the classic Mini would need to soldier on for a few more years.
Development
Back in 1992, Mike Theaker and his team of engine development engineers had devised a highly advanced Multi-point fuel injection system for the Mini’s A-series engine. At the time, his design proposal was anything but well-received by company management. With no plans to continue building the Mini past ’96, Theaker’s ingenious system was destined never to see the light of day.
Four years on, now with Pischetsrieder in charge, the prototype system was taken out of storage and developed further, ultimately enabling the A-series to reach its emissions targets. To boot, the upgrade also brought with it a much improved torque curve, with peak torque now arriving considerably lower in the rev range – handy for low-speed city motoring.
Visually however, the most noticeable alteration under the bonnet was the repositioning of the radiator from its traditional location at the side of the engine to the front. This, in combination with a higher final drive ratio of 2.76, enabled the Mini to beat those pesky EU restrictions on noise and emissions levels with ease. Ok, acceleration did suffer slightly as a result of the higher final drive, but the torque advantage offered by the complex twin-point fuel injection system almost completely negated that. Performance remained class leading, with the dash to 60 mph being completed up to a second faster than in many of its rivals. As ever, nothing could touch the Mini when it came to agility and outright driving pleasure.
Perhaps the biggest obstacle engineers faced during the design of the Mk.7 Mini, however, was making the car safer. Let’s be honest, the Mini was never going to win any awards for its crash protection. After all, when it was designed in the late fifties, a car’s ‘crumple zone’ was whatever it was hitting. Or the driver’s face. Engineering a crumple zone into the Mini would be like rebuilding one of Egypt’s ancient pyramids using giant concrete blocks. Yes, you could do it, but not without completely annihilating the very features and proportions which made it such an iconic design.
That meant Rover’s engineers had to rely on ‘secondary’ safety features to increase occupant safety. A driver’s airbag, mounted at the end of a new collapsible steering column, was installed – no easy task bearing in mind the Mini’s bizarre driving position – and side-impact bars were wedged into the car’s skinny little doors. Seatbelt pre-tensioners completed the comprehensive list of upgrades.
Design
The 1997 Mini was the first embodiment of a fresh philosophy. Instead of promoting and advertising the car under the Rover label, the company was now keen to emphasise Mini's position as a separate marque with an individual - and unique - identity. For the first time in its 35-year history, Mini had its own distinctive logo and branding, marking it out as a standalone company.
The second phase of rebranding was to rethink the model line-up. For the ’97 car, Rover decided to take the range back-to-basics. There would be only two models – Mini and Mini Cooper – each retailing for £8995, both sharing the same revamped 63hp A+ series engine. With the performance gulf between both models eliminated, customers could simply go for the look they preferred.
But a sizeable dollop of rebranding alone would not be enough to put the Mini firmly back on the car buying public’s radar. Some serious design work was required too, which came in the form of the radical new Sports Pack. Pitched to customers as “the ultimate in street style”, this £800 bundle added a whole host of dramatic styling features, the most obvious being wide, body-coloured ‘arches and equally wide 13-inch Minilite-style wheels – both bang-on trend at the time.
Joining the Sports Pack on the options list were a seemingly endless list of new colours, trims and accessories, making the Mk.7 Mini a true pioneer of personalisation. Never had any car before incorporated such a vast range of optional extras. There were Retro colours, ultra-modern pearlescent shades and traditional solid colours; chrome exterior packs, wood interior packs; Union Jack decals, 1960s-style badges... The sheer number of possible combinations of trim and accessories was unheard of in the automotive world, and set the precedent for countless other car companies attempting to offer a similar level of personalisation.
After going on sale in July of 2001, the all-new R50 MINI hatch became an instant sales success. As the MINI was a totally new design, its success traded heavily off the original's character and charm. The fact that it became an overnight hit with the public, then, is a testament to the importance of Rover's Mk.7 Mini, and the events of the car's final four production years. Without the MPi Minis, today's automotive landscape would look very different indeed.
The 1997 Mini was the first embodiment of a fresh philosophy. Instead of promoting and advertising the car under the Rover label, the company was now keen to emphasise Mini's position as a separate marque with an individual - and unique - identity. For the first time in its 35-year history, Mini had its own distinctive logo and branding, marking it out as a standalone company.
The second phase of rebranding was to rethink the model line-up. For the ’97 car, Rover decided to take the range back-to-basics. There would be only two models – Mini and Mini Cooper – each retailing for £8995, both sharing the same revamped 63hp A+ series engine. With the performance gulf between both models eliminated, customers could simply go for the look they preferred.
But a sizeable dollop of rebranding alone would not be enough to put the Mini firmly back on the car buying public’s radar. Some serious design work was required too, which came in the form of the radical new Sports Pack. Pitched to customers as “the ultimate in street style”, this £800 bundle added a whole host of dramatic styling features, the most obvious being wide, body-coloured ‘arches and equally wide 13-inch Minilite-style wheels – both bang-on trend at the time.
Joining the Sports Pack on the options list were a seemingly endless list of new colours, trims and accessories, making the Mk.7 Mini a true pioneer of personalisation. Never had any car before incorporated such a vast range of optional extras. There were Retro colours, ultra-modern pearlescent shades and traditional solid colours; chrome exterior packs, wood interior packs; Union Jack decals, 1960s-style badges... The sheer number of possible combinations of trim and accessories was unheard of in the automotive world, and set the precedent for countless other car companies attempting to offer a similar level of personalisation.
After going on sale in July of 2001, the all-new R50 MINI hatch became an instant sales success. As the MINI was a totally new design, its success traded heavily off the original's character and charm. The fact that it became an overnight hit with the public, then, is a testament to the importance of Rover's Mk.7 Mini, and the events of the car's final four production years. Without the MPi Minis, today's automotive landscape would look very different indeed.
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