You ever notice how car manufacturers have spent decades and untold billions trying to make gas cars behave like electric cars—without actually making electric cars? I have. And once you see it, you can’t unsee it.
I mean, take a modern petrol or diesel car. It’s got a turbo, or maybe two. A dual-clutch transmission that shifts faster than my kids changing their minds about dinner. It’s so soundproof you could record a podcast inside. And the whole thing is packed with enough sensors, actuators, and compensators to qualify for a minor role in a Marvel movie.
Why all that effort?
Simple: Because internal combustion cars want to be EVs when they grow up.
Let’s hop into our mental time machine and head back to the 1990s. Remember that era? Tamagotchis. Windows 95. And car companies realizing—maybe for the first time—that customers really liked a certain type of driving experience: smooth, responsive, quiet. But instead of going electric (because oil, politics, and tradition, obviously), they set off on a 30-year uphill battle to fake it.
And thus began the long, expensive, and occasionally hilarious journey to reinvent the feel of electric driving… using internal explosions, heavy metallurgy, and a lot of engineering duct tape.
Example #1: Silence, please!
Electric cars are quiet. Not “library” quiet. Tomb quiet. So naturally, combustion engineers went into stealth mode. They added layers of insulation, special acoustic windshields, and motor mounts filled with magical goo to dampen vibration. BMW even once pumped fake engine noise into the cabin—because after muting the engine so much, apparently drivers missed the sound. Yet, I don’t know anyone who liked this artificial engine sound. And also: the number of cars driving on our streets that really sound good are … minimal. Also: do I really want to live next to a Ferrari owner’s house who is revving the car on a daily basis? As good as a Ferrari sounds – there is a time for everything – it only sounds good occasionally and not while I am sitting quietly on my terrace.
EVs, on the other hand? They don’t need to pretend to be quiet. They just are.
Example #2: Torque on demand
One of the biggest joys of EV driving is the way it leaps forward like a startled cat when you tap the pedal. No hesitation. No revving. Just go.
Internal combustion? Yeah, not quite. Enter turbochargers. Then twin-scroll turbos. Then variable geometry turbos. Each generation trying to solve the same problem: the engine takes its sweet time to wake up.
Add in turbo lag, gear hunting, throttle mapping, and a whole symphony of compensations… just to try and match what an electric motor does by nature.
Example #3: Shifting without the shift
Here’s a fun EV fact: most of them don’t have gears. At all. There’s no shifting. No rev-matching. No clutching. Just pure, seamless acceleration like some kind of magic carpet ride.
Meanwhile, combustion cars have been frantically inventing new gearboxes. Remember when 5 speeds were impressive? Now we’ve got 10-speed automatics, CVTs that try to pretend they have gears, and dual-clutch systems with the personality of a caffeinated robot.
And all of this to hide the fact that shifting is… well, a bit annoying. Electric cars just skip it entirely.
Example #4: Emissions? What emissions?
EVs don’t have tailpipe emissions. Because, surprise! They don’t have tailpipes. That means no smog, no soot, no nitrogen oxides, and no holding your breath when driving behind a diesel.
Combustion cars? They’ve been stuffing their exhaust systems with more tech than the ISS. Catalytic converters. Diesel particulate filters. SCR systems that inject urea into the exhaust stream. And you still end up with pollution and complexity that rivals a small refinery.
All that effort to do… what EVs do by default.
Example #5: One-pedal driving
Driving an EV is so simple it almost feels like cheating. You push the pedal to go. You lift off to slow down—thanks to regenerative braking. It’s intuitive, efficient, and makes you wonder why we ever thought three pedals and a handbrake were a good idea.
Combustion cars tried to catch up with hill-hold systems, auto stop-start (the engine version of playing dead), and adaptive cruise controls that tap the brakes for you.
It’s like they’re tiptoeing around the truth: electric is just easier.
Example #6: Handling like a sports car… accidentally
This one’s my favorite. EVs have their battery packs mounted low in the chassis, usually under the floor. That gives them a super low center of gravity—think snake-belly low. Add in the fact that the weight is evenly distributed between front and rear axles, and suddenly your family crossover corners like a Porsche.
Manufacturers of combustion cars have spent years trying to get that kind of balance with front-heavy layouts, complex suspension tuning, and enough aluminum in the chassis to make an Airbus jealous.
EVs? They just exist, and already handle beautifully. It’s almost unfair.
So… what are we doing here?
The truth is, EVs didn’t reinvent driving. They just simplified it.
Every step of the way, combustion engineering has been an elaborate game of catch-up and to hide deficits and drawbacks. From torque to silence to smoothness to cleanliness to handling—it’s all been about faking what EVs do naturally. Like a cover band trying to sound like the original artist, but with more smoke and a lot more noise.
I get it. The combustion engine was a marvel of its time. But it’s like trying to keep a typewriter competitive in a world of smartphones. Eventually, the jig is up.
So here I am, rolling silently past gas stations and emissions test centers, enjoying instant torque and watching the world try to keep up. And I think to myself:
Maybe the combustion engine didn’t fail.
Maybe it just spent its whole life trying to be something else.
And now that we finally have that “something else”… why are we still pretending?