Supercar vs. Hypercar: What Do These Terms Even Mean Anymore?

Is something like the Corvette ZR1 really a hypercar? And if not, why not?

WriterManufacturerPhotographerMotorTrend ArchivesPhotographerIllustration By

There’s nothing controversial about asserting the following: The Mazda Miata is a sports car, the Porsche 911 is a supercar, and the Bugatti Chiron is a hypercar. Walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, it’s obviously some sort of duck. The thing is that the lines are blurred today more than ever before. Sometimes they’re blurred for impure reasons.

For example, executive editor Mac Morrison recently drove the Aston Martin Valhalla, a hypercar by any other definition, and poked fun at Aston’s own claim that its mid-engine, funny-doored, 1,064-horsepower monster is not in fact a hypercar but rather is just a lowly supercar. Why would Aston say something so obviously untrue? Because it wants to say the Valhalla is the company’s “first ever supercar,” thereby not stepping on its other, even more extreme existing hypercar, the Valkyrie. And probably to avoid irritating all its Valkyrie owners. But come on. Likewise, General Motors was hella quick to market its 1,250-hp Chevrolet Corvette ZR1X (and even the standard ZR1) as “America’s hypercar.” But are the beastiest ’Vettes really just incredibly powerful supercars?

ADVERTISEMENT - CONTINUE READING BELOW

I think we can figure out this nomenclature. The exact creation of the term “sports car” is lost to the winds of time, but the general etymology ain’t hard to figure out. Not to be confused with a race car, a sports car is a street car that’s intended from the factory to be driven in a sporting manner. This is different from a rental car, which while often driven quite sportingly indeed (eternal fist bump to writer P.J. O’Rourke), well, that wasn’t the engineers’ original intent.

ADVERTISEMENT - CONTINUE READING BELOW
Lamborghini-Miura-front-view

Defining the Term “Hypercar”

We do, however, know where and when and by whom the word “supercar”—or at least its modern meaning—originated. Legendary British auto scribe L.J.K. Setright coined it while looking at the Lamborghini Miura prototype at the 1966 Geneva Motor Show. As for “hypercar,” it’s a less well-known tale, but MotorTrend’s own Angus Mackenzie invented it. Why?

“I recall thinking about the term hypercar in 2004, when we had the Enzo Ferrari, Porsche Carrera GT, and McLaren SLR come out in quick succession, and cars like the Bugatti Veyron were on the horizon,” he says. “Beginning in the 1960s, L.J.K. Setright had used the term supercar to describe any sports car capable of more than 160 mph. It was a select group in those days. But by the early 21st century it was clear 200 mph was the new big boy number. And I thought we better come up with a new descriptor. What’s higher up the food chain than super? Hyper. … Of course, since then we’ve had Dodge Chargers that’ll do 200 mph. That’s the trouble with superlatives.”

ADVERTISEMENT - CONTINUE READING BELOW

Sticking with the Bugatti Veyron 16.4, because I don’t think anyone on Earth that will argue it’s not a hypercar, let’s break down its standout attributes and see if they can lead us to a clear definition.

2006-bugatti-veyron-front-three-quarters-passenger

Horsepower is first and foremost. Look, say what you want about the Veyron, but it’s a historic fact that Chairman Ferdinand Piëch’s fever dream is the first production car to produce four-figure horsepower. A fact that can be slightly argued with, as officially the Veyron’s monstrous 8.0-liter quad-turbo W-16 made 1,001 PS. Of course, PS stands for Pferdestärke, German for horsepower, but it actually means metric horsepower, which also means the Veyron only made 987 American ponies.

ADVERTISEMENT - CONTINUE READING BELOW

Do not fret, because when this fact was pointed out to Bugatti back in the day, the official response was that all Veyron powerplants in fact make more power than advertised, and the weakest one was putting out 1,020 hp. For the sake of this discussion, let’s just believe the mighty Volkswagen Automotive Group and stipulate that one defining attribute of any hypercar is 1,000 or more horsepower.

The Bugatti Veyron also cost €1,000,000, the equivalent of $1,250,000 back in 2005. There’s a common misconception that the McLaren F1 was the first seven-figure production car, but reviewing the tape shows that when new in 1992, the F1 would set you back just short of $800K. As gross and odious as the next thing I’m going to type sounds, I think price is indeed part of what defines a hypercar. Got to be at least a million bucks. And there’s a very good reason to include the price tag as a bullet point.

112 0906 16z Bugatti veyron grand sport engine bay

That reason is a bespoke chassis. This is something else that’s true about the Veyron: Its carbon-fiber tub was not shared with any other vehicle, save for subsequent variants. This is where the real money goes when we’re talking hypercars, especially these days, as electrification has radically lowered the cost of horsepower. Roughly 60 percent of the cost of engineering a vehicle goes into the area between the front axle and firewall (this is shaped slightly different for mid-engine cars, obviously), which is why platform sharing is so beloved by automakers. Not to put too fine a point on it, but the Audi A4, A5, A6, A7, A8, Q5, Q7, Q8, and Q8 e-tron; Bentley Bentayga; Porsche Cayenne; Volkswagen Touareg and (China-only) Phaeton; and Lamborghini Urus are all built on Volkswagen’s Modularer Längsbaukasten Evo, better known as MLB Evo. The point is that when a vehicle has its own unique platform, it’s kind of a big deal. Plus, it becomes freakishly expensive.

Exclusivity also matters. Part of the thinking that goes into buying a hypercar is that your friends and neighbors won’t. Just how limited? Let’s say less than 1,000 copies, as this will get the aforementioned Valhalla in (by the skin of its teeth, keep reading), as well as the Ferrari F80, limited to 799.

ADVERTISEMENT - CONTINUE READING BELOW

A hypercar also has to be a two-passenger, two-door coupe, though of course cars with no roofs are welcome. Not that any exist, though the Lucid Air Sapphire comes close in some respects, but a hyper sedan or hyper SUV would be something else entirely and need their own definitions. Anything else? Maybe an outrageous, impossible-to-hit-on-public-roads top speed? Say 225 mph? However, that would exclude the Aston Martin Valkyrie, which is supposedly limited to 220 mph because of tire wear. So yeah, maybe not that. Now comes the fun part.

ADVERTISEMENT - CONTINUE READING BELOW
2025 Aston Martin Valhalla 29

Testing the Hypothesis!

Starting with the Aston Martin Valhalla, it makes more than 1,000 hp, costs more than $1 million, has a unique carbon-fiber chassis that’s not shared with any other vehicle, is limited to 999 units worldwide, and is most definitely a two-passenger two-door. So sorry, Aston, your latest and greatest whip is firmly if not definitively in camp hypercar. Which leads us to “America’s hypercar,” as Chevrolet bills the Corvette ZR1X. Instant fail, according to our metrics. It has the power, sure (and so does the “regular” ZR1) but not the price tag or the unique platform, nor is it (officially) limited. Unnumbered, regular-production supercars are simply not hypercars. But it’s an absolutely wicked supercar and undoubtedly a hypercar killer.

Hey, this is kinda fun! Let’s examine a few more. America does have a hypercar, and it’s the Czinger 21C Vmax. Well more than 1,000 hp, costs more than 2 million bucks, has a unique 3D-printed chassis, only 80 are being made, and not only does it seat only two, but one person preposterously sits behind the other. That’s a hypercar with authority!

ADVERTISEMENT - CONTINUE READING BELOW

Meanwhile, the Gordon Murray Automotive T.50 is not a hypercar. Say huh/why the hell not? Well, even if we overlook the two-seater thing (we will make an exception for center-steer three-seaters), the GMA standard bearer only makes 654 horsepower. One hell of a supercar (or so Dario Franchitti said when I rode left passenger seat in one), but not a hypercar, sorry. Sticking with that, an 852-hp Pagani Utopia is therefore also not a hypercar.

How about some tough ones, like the Ferrari LaFerrari? Nope. I’m not keeping it out of the club because its chassis was eventually used to make another car (Daytona SP3, also not a hypercar). No, it’s out because it only makes 950 hp. That’s simply not enough. It’s close, sure, but you must draw the line somewhere. This also keeps the 887-hp Porsche 918 Spyder out and is one of two reasons the 903-hp McLaren P1 is “just” a supercar. The other being the fact its chassis—called MonoCage—was subsequently used in the 720S, Senna, 765LT, Speedtail, and 750S.

Is this too nitpicky? Probably, and the fact the soon-to-launch 1,258-hp McLaren W1, which is obviously a hypercar, might get demoted down to lowly supercar status because McLaren will undoubtedly use the W1’s AeroCell chassis in future cars, makes me requestion everything.

ADVERTISEMENT - CONTINUE READING BELOW
Ferrari LaFerrari front top view

Here’s the Trouble

And another thing: Am I really going to go on record saying the “Holy Trinity”—the LaFerrari, P1, and 918 Spyder—doesn’t achieve hypercar status? I don’t want to be that Sheldon Cooper about it. At least that wasn’t my intent when I decided to go down this long road. But I do think definitions are helpful, especially definitions of words, phrases, and concepts that we car folks use day in and day out.

Still, do we need to be so fussy? The above might just be another example of U.S. Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart’s brilliance. He’s the guy who, when trying to define what constitutes pornography, said, “I know it when I see it.” The same is true for hypercars. Probably.

Stay Ahead of the Curve.

Get the newest car reviews, hottest auto news, and expert analysis of the latest trends delivered straight to your inbox!

By signing up, I agree to the Terms of Use (including the dispute resolution procedures) and have reviewed the Privacy Notice.

When I was just one-year-old and newly walking, I managed to paint a white racing stripe down the side of my father’s Datsun 280Z. It’s been downhill ever since then. Moral of the story? Painting the garage leads to petrolheads. I’ve always loved writing, and I’ve always had strong opinions about cars. One day I realized that I should combine two of my biggest passions and see what happened. Turns out that some people liked what I had to say and within a few years Angus MacKenzie came calling. I regularly come to the realization that I have the best job in the entire world. My father is the one most responsible for my car obsession. While driving, he would never fail to regale me with tales of my grandfather’s 1950 Cadillac 60 Special and 1953 Buick Roadmaster. He’d also try to impart driving wisdom, explaining how the younger you learn to drive, the safer driver you’ll be. “I learned to drive when I was 12 and I’ve never been in an accident.” He also, at least once per month warned, “No matter how good you drive, someday, somewhere, a drunk’s going to come out of nowhere and plow into you.” When I was very young my dad would strap my car seat into the front of his Datsun 280Z and we’d go flying around the hills above Malibu, near where I grew up. The same roads, in fact, that we now use for the majority of our comparison tests. I believe these weekend runs are part of the reason why I’ve never developed motion sickness, a trait that comes in handy when my “job” requires me to sit in the passenger seats for repeated hot laps of the Nurburgring. Outside of cars and writing, my great passions include beer — brewing and judging as well as tasting — and tournament poker. I also like collecting cactus, because they’re tough to kill. My amazing wife Amy is an actress here in Los Angeles and we have a wonderful son, Richard.

Read More

Share
ADVERTISEMENT - CONTINUE READING BELOW

You May Also Like

MotorTrend Recommended Stories

Related MotorTrend Content: World | Sports | Entertainment | Health | Politics | News: News