Never has this been more virulent than with the British motorcycling industry, the bones of which have been picked over ceaselessly since its almost total demise. The rights and wrongs of what happened and where any blame should be placed is past history. More unfortunate is that presently any talk of a revival is based on regurgitating the same old bikes which had become uncompetitive by the end of their reign.
A greater shame is the disdain often voiced about how dreadful the bikes were when they actually led the field and were the finest in the world. This appears to have reached the point where people apologise for owning, or having owned, one! I don't want to sound like some silly old bugger twittering on about today's whipper snappers not appreciating their heritage, abandoning patriotism in the face of our (still) declining industrial strength and how the collapse of BSA Triumph Norton (and a plethora of other equally famous names) was purely a foretaste of what was to come for the whole country's manufacturing viability.
It has to be said however there are several issues which should not be forgotten nor overlooked. A certain amount of pride might be associated with the companies which helped put the Great into British engineering in years sadly now lost in the mists of time and monetary policy. Such famous marques as Ariel, Sunbeam & Velocette, which are now almost unknown to the majority of people under the age of twenty five, were once household names throughout the world. In their day, British motorcycles were The Best.
For a variety of reasons their day ended in the mid-sixties. Despite realising it was too late to change the complacent attitudes which had become an endemic part of management (in the years when they simply bought out the competition and halted any positive development of new radical ideas), they were caught with their pants irretrievably down.
From the late sixties and, more particularly, the early seventies it became fashionable for bike magazines to slag down anything other than Jap bikes as crap. They had recognised-early on that high tech, highly tuned and consequently high performing oriental machinery, allied with a new credit boom, would sweep through a stagnant market place where the manufacturers were dictating to the bike buying public what they could have. (It's interesting to note that this is precisely what the big four find themselves in now, also facing declining sales).
These magazines, with many new titles joining their ranks, were all in business - naturally enough - to make money. They owed allegiance only to those who could make them profitable and couldn't afford to miss the bandwagon. It was no small matter then to ensure the supply of bikes for road test, it helped to be complimentary. And if they could be first to test a new model their circulation would certainly increase.
The Japanese also became expert in the field of marketing and advertising revenue was a major consideration for publishers. The Japs had vast subsidized resources to spend. Conversely, the meagre amounts spent by the British enthused no-one. The temptation to say, with regard to the bike mags, that the rats therefore left the sinking ship, is irresistible if not entirely factual. Much of this is still true today.
Several publications are threatened by the decline in new bike sales. Their fears compounded by the success of mags which seek nothing from motorcycle manufacturers except as a supply of base materials to create altogether different bikes from those which are commonly available. Similarly, the UMG reflects the growing interest in used bikes, of people who either can't afford or don't want present state of the art machines.
Today's motorcyclist may be all too easily influenced by what they read in the press.
Care must be taken to read between the lines where bias may exist. The majority of what is, and has been, written about British iron is broadly accurate. They were, and are, often temperamental, awkward, noisy and sometimes inefficient. But, for the times, were entirely practical. Many riders clocked up huge trouble free mileages. The market then demanded affordable, simply maintained, economical bikes with reasonable performance. In the fifties and sixties 80mph was pretty damn quick and seventy expected. It's completely inappropriate to compare these low tech, under developed geriatrics with today's ultra modern Japs (even if they cost the same to buy? - Ed). Would you compare a sit up and beg Popular with a Cosworth Sierra? No, because although they were both designed to comfortably transport passengers their specifications are as diverse as chalk and cheese.
Though not blind to the short comings of Brit bikes or to the virtues of latter day Japs, I would take care not to condemn in ignorance as so many people do. The Japs themselves are the first to admit that although innovators they are not inventors. Their specialities are development, highly efficient mass production and an enviable knack of spotting a gap in the market or exploiting an existing trend.
Even with such expertise a few hiccups still creep in. Remember who brought us the CB500T, with its pseudo European styling, horrific handling and self destruct engine, the VF series which spat out cams in days and had a myriad of post production modifications. What was it that had two camchains and only one adjuster? Then of course there was the RE5. If it's pedantic you want to be, we can all point a finger.
A brief flick through any one of the multitude of motorcycle history books will produce revelations to the younger biker. By about 1930 everything which is commonplace today had been thought of, tried and junked. Monoshock suspension, multi cylinders, shaft drive, super chargers, liquid cooling, stream lining - the list is endless. Either the technology or, as in most cases, the demand was insufficient. It has always been horses for courses. In 1950 a six cylinder DOHC with individual carbs doing 28mpg would have been considered as absurd as a single pot 350 which only managed 65mph might seem today.
The sheer joy of motorcycles, to many of us, transcends any barriers or divides. There's a lot to be said for a raw British machine which appears to live and breathe against one which, despite fine performance, seems to deliver the goods in a very comfortable and luxurious manner. For those as yet unconvinced that a revered place exists for older, more traditional designs, look no further than BMW, Moto Guzzi, Ducati and, of course, they say God rides a Harley. But maybe that's a whole other can of worms.
Alex Wickford