This is part two of my report from my recent vacation. After the stint in Copenhagen (see column from September) and in my North German hometown of Bremen, we attended a wedding in a picturesque ancient castle in the otherwise unremarkable village of Wanzleben in Eastern Germany. And then to Berlin.

Berlin: 'My car should leave me alone'

My American wife and I had spent our early days in Berlin between 1998 and 2002. The one full day we had in this great city, on the last day of August, was a Monday, so all official museums were closed. But such “official” museums did not include the Classic Remise, an amazing car-buff location that opened since we moved to the US. They call it a center for vintage cars but it also functions as a free museum. It houses classic car dealerships, specialized restoration workshops, spare parts shops, and other vintage car related businesses. It also features eighty-eight transparent, climate-controlled glass boxes, where private owners store their rare and valuable collector cars. There are two restaurants that can double as event spaces. The term “Remise” refers to the building’s original purpose as a tram depot between 1899 and 1960. So, there was also an architectural component.

It looked good on the website but in reality, it was car heaven for this author. There was my first car, a Renault 4, next to one of several Citroen CXs, a car I came to know well during my car mechanic education, along with tons of other French cars from the ‘50s to ‘90s, when they were still exciting and quirky.

The many vintage Mercedes and Porsches would draw admirers, but the BMW 507 was more interesting to me. When Elvis Presley was stationed in Germany in 1958/59, he bought one of these rare BMW sports cars, much like the one shown in the photo, and brought it to America. It was one of the most expensive cars in Germany at the time and only 254 were produced. Today they sell easily for 2,000,000 dollars or euros.

There was a very strong British component: Aston Martin, Bentley, Jaguar, MG & Triumph spiders – some of them gutted and stripped to bare metal high up on shelves for future restoration – and a Jensen Interceptor! Don’t get me started.

One of the three American cars on view was maybe my favorite: a 1964 Studebaker Commander Wagonaire – the one where the rear part of the roof retracts and makes the wagon almost a pickup. A genius concept that never succeeded. This one came in a boring brown; my Matchbox toy car was aquamarine (I loved it as a little boy).

The hyper sportscars in their glass boxes didn’t interest me very much. I was more intrigued by the tiny ‘50s and ‘60s cars (you know there were no ‘40s in Germany) when average Europeans were beginning to own their first automobiles. These included a Lloyd from the period when Bremen still had a car industry, since-defunct German brands like NSU, a DAF with Variomatic – a very simple predecessor of today’s CVT – from Holland, and tiny Fiats (of course). I won’t mention all the other wonderful Italian cars because I was already so happily overwhelmed at this point.

Finally, we went to Atelier Automobile GmbH, the specialist for French and Swedish classics (I have owned seven French cars: four Volvos and one Saab). The Classic Remise is well organized in the way that each shop is specialized in one country or one brand to avoid internal competition.

It was here that I heard the headline quote for this subhead: “Mein Auto soll mich in Ruhe lassen,” or my car should leave me alone. It came in a typically direct, deadpan Berlin manner from Roland Kayser, the owner of this shop.

The Analog Resistance

I think Herr Kayser is not aware of it, but he is part of a movement known as “the analog revival.” It is a cultural trend that pits the Analog against the Digital, as a means to escape from the constant stress of 24/7 online and social media exposure that can end in a digital burnout. An analog lifestyle can include tactile hobbies and offline activities like knitting, gardening, reading physical books and magazines, and swapping smartwatches for classic timepieces. One popular trend is moving back from smartphones to flip phones.

While writing this, I came across a song with the name Analog Resistance by the “band” Purple Haze. It sounds a lot like the songs that my sister-in-law created about our dogs. Guess what – Analog Resistance is AI generated.

I became aware that we old luddites and the modern hipsters are together in a movement with a significant car component: YouTube “thought” I should watch the surprisingly good video “Old Cars & The Analog Resistance” by a young female influencer. She was mostly appalled that these computers on wheels are “spying” on and controlling us.

Another guy who didn’t know that he is a sympathizer of the analog movement was a Porsche salesman I spoke with recently who was contemplating the loss of personality of the new cars in his dealership and was in solidarity with my concerns about all their electronics. “We are the last analog people” he said, pointing to a 2006 Porsche Cayman. I could comfort him in saying we are not alone.

What Qualifies as an Analog Car?

I think we all can agree that we don’t want to exclude cars with catalytic converters, ABS, electronic fuel injection, or other fuel saving technologies. It’s getting tricky with features that are being sold as safety improvements because these can be very intrusive. To simplify the discussion, I am suggesting to target the time period from 1975 (the introduction of catalytic converters in the US) to 1995, when OBD-II ports were federally mandated and required more sensors and electronics. Although there were still some quite non-digital cars and trucks sold new in the first decade of the 21st century.

The influencer and other online sources identified a group of “over-engineered” cars that can still be used as daily drivers. There are the usual truck suspects Toyota Landcruisers and Tacomas (Yotas) and their Lexus SUV equivalents and the Landrover Defender of that era. In the sports car department, there is the Porsche 911 and well-maintained Porsche 914, 924/944s or 928s, Mazda Miatas, and Honda S2000s. For passenger cars, all Mercedes from the 1970s to 1990s (see my column from July 30) and most BMWs. Then there is, of course, the Volvo 240. But the collector’s market is picking up and a lot of the above have become quite expensive in the classic car auction world, except the Volvo 240.

You’ll notice that there are only European and Japanese cars in the above list, but you can also go analog without risking your life or suffering unbearable discomfort with most cars from this specified era, including American cars. If you aren’t lucky enough to find a low mileage model in your grandma’s garage, you will need some tools and mechanic’s skills. It certainly helps if you don’t have to drive your Youngtimer too regularly and for longer distances.

Digital Annoyance

Both Roland Kayser’s and the influencer’s concern about the digital world is that the car is taking control over you. I agree with them, especially when my rental Nissan Juke in England drove me crazy: it started beeping and even slowed down when I went only one mile above the speed limit. While I enjoy my rear-view camera and most of the time the rain sensor and GPS, the problems can start right there: If they work! In my 2020 Range Rover Evoque, the wipers usually automatically start moving intermittently when there’s some drizzle, but when the rain changes the sensor loses its way. My Android Auto is erratic, as is the AC. This is not a relaxing driving experience and can be plain dangerous when you’re constantly fighting with the controls instead of looking at the road. The lane departure and forward collision warnings do not prevent you from hitting that tree.

The Paradox

Back to the video that popped up on YouTube: why did YouTube know that I would write this column before I knew it? This is part of the much bigger AI privacy question and adds fuel to the desire to go analog – the computer (and in this discussion, the car) is taking control! But is going analog really the alternative? As appealing as it may sound to drive a (fossil fuel) Mercedes, Volvo station wagon, or a VW Bus cross-country, it requires a deeper commitment to slow living and lowering your living standards, which I can see as a retirement plan for my generation. Do the new analog resisters have the patience? When will the FOMO (fear of missing out) kick in? Can they really live without social media? Social media is the world where influencers thrive.

Am I really going to return to a 1975–95 Mercedes or Volvo Wagon? Propping up my phone on the dashboard holder is not a problem, but they are just not as much fun to drive nor do they brake as well as a Porsche Macan or Range Rover Evoque.

The Analog Resistance is obviously not a clearly defined and organized movement – maybe an inherent condition, since it’s offline – but it is a good start as a means to resist AI and data centers. But do we have the time?