How About An Award for Lousy Engineering?

I understand that there’s a U.S.-based society that hands out something called the Darwin Awards. They’re a prize for people who manage to kill themselves thorough abject stupidity, thereby removing themselves from the gene pool, hence Darwin. It’s a little macabre maybe, but I propose another award for automotive engineers who, over the years, have managed to create vehicles that no one can repair without useless frustration, extra cost and of course, skinned knuckles. This has a long history. My first exposure was an old Austin Mini. The clutch disk and pressure plate were between the flywheel and the crankshaft, requiring an engine pull to perform a clutch job. On the other extreme, I once owned a Datsun F-10, also front-wheel-drive, with a “mailslot” cover over the top of the bellhousing that allowed a clutch change in 45 minutes without getting under the car. I was really good at it, since the plate itself was about the size of the lid on a Tim Horton’s coffee, and about as durable. Small-block Chevy valve cover gaskets are another. They fixed this one, although it took the General about a quarter of a century to get around to it. GM also created the infamous 2.8L 60-degree V-6. That required a special clamp tool (the manual suggested that techs should make it, for Pete’s sake) to remove the water pump. Don’t use it, and the front cover comes loose, allowing enough coolant into the oil pan to wipe a bearing in minutes. Don’t ask me how I know. For you younger techs who yearn for bloody hands, buy a Fiero, or a 305 V-8 Chevy Monza. Ford has a lengthy list, too, the most memorable one for me being a large Mercury with a blower motor that was most easily accessed by cutting a hole in the firewall. I have an ’88 Mustang that still surprises me for the number of razor sharp edges under the hood and the factory headers that seem to reach out and burn my hands at will. Chrysler’s had their share, also. Rear-cylinder-anything on a V-6 front-driver is a pain, as was the A-604 Ultradrive transmission. The dipstick said it was O.K. to top off with Dexron II, but it turns out that only ATF 3 would keep the fragile unit alive. And my wife’s Honda goes through fuel pump relays in direct proportion to my unwillingness to get my hands dirty, again, during those precious weekends. All manufacturers do it, and we endure it. There ought to be a medal, don’t you think?