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Clarkson on saving the planet | Top Gear

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I haven't driven the Lamborghini Aventador yet. But I'm told by my colleagues, who both have, that some of the sparkle you found in Lambos of yesteryear is missing. And when I say ‘sparkle', what I mean of course is ‘absolute terror'.

We see a similar problem with the McLaren Fax Machine. As a piece of technology, it is sublime. But it is the only car I've ever driven that is more fun to drive with the traction control switched on. Partly this is because the traction system is brilliant, and partly it's because the rest of the car doesn't seem to be all that happy sliding round a corner with smoke pouring off the tyres. Driving like that in an MP4-12C? It's like slipping into a suit and tie and then going white-water rafting.

Further down the food chain, we get to the Audi RS3. This is a five-cylinder turbocharged road rocket that is glued to the road by four-wheel drive. In theory, then, it should be similar to its grandad, the quattro. But it isn't. The quattro - especially with a second-gen, 20-valve engine - was one of the most exciting cars on the road at the time. You pointed when one went by. But the RS3? No. It'd be like pointing at a pylon. You get the impression it would like to be beige and that its favourite TV show would be Countdown.

My final example of this is the Nissan GT-R. Yes. Thanks to a remarkable launch control computer programme, its ability to leave the line is startling. And, if you're not prepared, quite painful. And similarly, its speed and its grip in the corners is remarkable. As a result, it is miles faster than the CLK Black Edition that I drive every day. And yet. You get the impression that if the Nissan were your girlfriend, it would turn up on a date in pants the size of an ocean-going spinnaker. While the Merc would turn up wearing no underwear at all.

Now obviously, carmakers like Audi and Lambo [same thing, Ed.], Nissan and McLaren know that those looking to buy a fast car like excitement. But they seem to be dialling it out. Why?

Why did BMW choose to fit a turbocharged engine to the 1 M coupe? Of course, this is a very clever turbocharged engine with the sort of lag which isn't really detectable to the human foot, even when you're in sixth and only doing 27mph. But you know, even though it doesn't appear to be there, that it is. BMW knows it too.

So why have they used the same tech on the forthcoming M5? They know, just like you and I do, that a naturally aspirated engine is going to deliver an immediacy and a tingle that a turboed motor cannot. A turbocharged engine is propelled by witchcraft. And that takes time.

So what's going on? Well, you may be surprised to find that the main reason is the marsupial frog, or to be correct the Assa darlingtoni. This lives high in the mountains of somewhere dreary, and lays its eggs in the clouds where there is enough moisture to ensure the spawning is successful.

However, in recent years the clouds have begun to sit above the mountains and now scientists and eco-ists say that because of this the Assa darlingtoni is threatened with extinction. That its babies are born and die of suffocation in moments. And they say that there's only one way to stop this: the next M5 must be turbocharged.

The leopard-patterned gecko can only hope to survive if AMG changes its automatic gearboxes

And what's more, if the Mediterranean monk seal is to have a chance of making it through until next Tuesday, the Audi RS3 must have carbon-fibre front wings. Likewise, the leopard-patterned gecko which has orange eyes and lives by the Mekong in China, can only hope to survive if AMG replaces the automatic gearboxes it's fitted to fast Mercs in the past and switches extensively to the double-clutch variety.

I can't pretend to understand why a double-clutch gearbox is more environmentally friendly than a standard auto, and when I asked James May to explain, I'm ashamed to say I fell asleep. But it is, and these days anything which cuts down the amount of CO2 coming from a car's poo shoot is being lapped up like a desert explorer would lap up a beer after a solo hop across the Sahara.

It's annoying this, because while a double-clutch gearbox works extremely well on a track, and is fine on the open road, it is annoying and useless in traffic. Because you don't get the slip of a proper manual or the creep on an auto, itis always jerky. And remarkably slow to respond when you are doing three mph in a motorway crawl, and you want to change lanes... wait for it... wait... hang on... NOW.

It won't be ready, and when it is ready, the guy coming up on your inside will have realised what you were attempting to do and closed the gap. You are therefore imprisoned by the limitations of a DSG. You are a hostage to the well-being of the giant panda.

Governments are pushing hard to make things worse. One minute, they set impossible eco targets for carmakers to meet, and when the carmakers stop squealing and seem to be getting somewhere, they introduce even more difficult-to-achieve legislation. We'd only just got used to Euro IV emission legislation, and now we have V. By the time you read this magazine, we'll be at VIII, and the fastest machine in your garage will be your old lawnmower.

Of course, we've all accepted this. We know that bit by bit the performance car will be scaled back, so we nod sagely when confronted by what the suits call reason, saying that we understand the need to pee on speed.

But I wonder if anyone has actually stopped for a moment and wondered why.

I am a birdwatcher. I am not ashamed of this. I spent a very enjoyable hour this morning, on my stomach in the long grass watching some cormorants. Later this evening, I'm hoping to see the gannets rock up and do a spot of dive fishing.

But which do I prefer... the Peregrine Falcon - my favourite bird - or the Ferrari 458? I'm afraid the answer is the car.

Of course, eco-ists say that the car can be placed in a museum and inspected by future generations. But I'm sorry. Why not put the bird in a museum? And the tiger? And the Irrawaddy dolphin? Why are we going backwards to save a few species that serve no purpose at all, which no one will ever see and which contribute nothing?

We liked Concorde. We liked the Space Shuttle. We like fast, exciting, dynamic cars and we are giving them all up to save a few beetles and frogs which are boring, ugly, pointless and disgusting. If there is such a thing as God, I bet he's sitting up on a cloud right now, wondering if perhaps his best species hasn't gone completely mad.

# data.attributes.body.processed
I haven't driven the Lamborghini Aventador yet. But I'm told by my colleagues, who both have, that some of the sparkle you found in Lambos of yesteryear is missing. And when I say ‘sparkle', what I mean of course is ‘absolute terror'.

We see a similar problem with the McLaren Fax Machine. As a piece of technology, it is sublime. But it is the only car I've ever driven that is more fun to drive with the traction control switched on. Partly this is because the traction system is brilliant, and partly it's because the rest of the car doesn't seem to be all that happy sliding round a corner with smoke pouring off the tyres. Driving like that in an MP4-12C? It's like slipping into a suit and tie and then going white-water rafting.

Further down the food chain, we get to the Audi RS3. This is a five-cylinder turbocharged road rocket that is glued to the road by four-wheel drive. In theory, then, it should be similar to its grandad, the quattro. But it isn't. The quattro - especially with a second-gen, 20-valve engine - was one of the most exciting cars on the road at the time. You pointed when one went by. But the RS3? No. It'd be like pointing at a pylon. You get the impression it would like to be beige and that its favourite TV show would be Countdown.

My final example of this is the Nissan GT-R. Yes. Thanks to a remarkable launch control computer programme, its ability to leave the line is startling. And, if you're not prepared, quite painful. And similarly, its speed and its grip in the corners is remarkable. As a result, it is miles faster than the CLK Black Edition that I drive every day. And yet. You get the impression that if the Nissan were your girlfriend, it would turn up on a date in pants the size of an ocean-going spinnaker. While the Merc would turn up wearing no underwear at all.

Now obviously, carmakers like Audi and Lambo [same thing, Ed.], Nissan and McLaren know that those looking to buy a fast car like excitement. But they seem to be dialling it out. Why?

Why did BMW choose to fit a turbocharged engine to the 1 M coupe? Of course, this is a very clever turbocharged engine with the sort of lag which isn't really detectable to the human foot, even when you're in sixth and only doing 27mph. But you know, even though it doesn't appear to be there, that it is. BMW knows it too.

So why have they used the same tech on the forthcoming M5? They know, just like you and I do, that a naturally aspirated engine is going to deliver an immediacy and a tingle that a turboed motor cannot. A turbocharged engine is propelled by witchcraft. And that takes time.

So what's going on? Well, you may be surprised to find that the main reason is the marsupial frog, or to be correct the Assa darlingtoni. This lives high in the mountains of somewhere dreary, and lays its eggs in the clouds where there is enough moisture to ensure the spawning is successful.

However, in recent years the clouds have begun to sit above the mountains and now scientists and eco-ists say that because of this the Assa darlingtoni is threatened with extinction. That its babies are born and die of suffocation in moments. And they say that there's only one way to stop this: the next M5 must be turbocharged.

The leopard-patterned gecko can only hope to survive if AMG changes its automatic gearboxes

And what's more, if the Mediterranean monk seal is to have a chance of making it through until next Tuesday, the Audi RS3 must have carbon-fibre front wings. Likewise, the leopard-patterned gecko which has orange eyes and lives by the Mekong in China, can only hope to survive if AMG replaces the automatic gearboxes it's fitted to fast Mercs in the past and switches extensively to the double-clutch variety.

I can't pretend to understand why a double-clutch gearbox is more environmentally friendly than a standard auto, and when I asked James May to explain, I'm ashamed to say I fell asleep. But it is, and these days anything which cuts down the amount of CO2 coming from a car's poo shoot is being lapped up like a desert explorer would lap up a beer after a solo hop across the Sahara.

It's annoying this, because while a double-clutch gearbox works extremely well on a track, and is fine on the open road, it is annoying and useless in traffic. Because you don't get the slip of a proper manual or the creep on an auto, itis always jerky. And remarkably slow to respond when you are doing three mph in a motorway crawl, and you want to change lanes... wait for it... wait... hang on... NOW.

It won't be ready, and when it is ready, the guy coming up on your inside will have realised what you were attempting to do and closed the gap. You are therefore imprisoned by the limitations of a DSG. You are a hostage to the well-being of the giant panda.

Governments are pushing hard to make things worse. One minute, they set impossible eco targets for carmakers to meet, and when the carmakers stop squealing and seem to be getting somewhere, they introduce even more difficult-to-achieve legislation. We'd only just got used to Euro IV emission legislation, and now we have V. By the time you read this magazine, we'll be at VIII, and the fastest machine in your garage will be your old lawnmower.

Of course, we've all accepted this. We know that bit by bit the performance car will be scaled back, so we nod sagely when confronted by what the suits call reason, saying that we understand the need to pee on speed.

But I wonder if anyone has actually stopped for a moment and wondered why.

I am a birdwatcher. I am not ashamed of this. I spent a very enjoyable hour this morning, on my stomach in the long grass watching some cormorants. Later this evening, I'm hoping to see the gannets rock up and do a spot of dive fishing.

But which do I prefer... the Peregrine Falcon - my favourite bird - or the Ferrari 458? I'm afraid the answer is the car.

Of course, eco-ists say that the car can be placed in a museum and inspected by future generations. But I'm sorry. Why not put the bird in a museum? And the tiger? And the Irrawaddy dolphin? Why are we going backwards to save a few species that serve no purpose at all, which no one will ever see and which contribute nothing?

We liked Concorde. We liked the Space Shuttle. We like fast, exciting, dynamic cars and we are giving them all up to save a few beetles and frogs which are boring, ugly, pointless and disgusting. If there is such a thing as God, I bet he's sitting up on a cloud right now, wondering if perhaps his best species hasn't gone completely mad.

# data.attributes.body.summary
"If the Mediterranean monk seal is to have a chance of making it, the RS3 must have carbon-fibre front wings"