
Last
updated
24 Feb 1998

sinclair@nvg.ntnu.no
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Whatever
Happened To:
The Sinclair C5?
THE INDEPENDENT, 2
NOVEMBER 1996

The moment: On 10 January 1985, the
Formula 1 bathtub was born. The love child of
entrepreneur and technical genius Sir Clive Sinclair, the
C5 made its first tentative journey in London traffic
under the critical eye of a cynical press. The C5 was a
confused and dangerous hybrid of a small car and a
bicycle. Described as the most expensive tricycle ever,
it was lightweight with a single seat and was powered by
both battery and pedalling. This meant that it was
invisible to lorry drivers, while the driver choked on
the exhaust fumes of less environmentally-friendly
vehicles as it weaved in and out of the traffic.
The background: Clive Sinclair was a
renowned inventor before he tried to turn himself into a
motor-industry mogul. His lasting fundamental
contribution to technological progress was the pocket
calculator. At under £60 it was a masterpiece of
miniaturisation, and made his personal fortune. He also
brought us the home computer at an affordable price: in
the late 70s and early 80s, when a computer consisted of
a room of spinning magnetic tape, this was simply an
absurd idea. The ZX Spectrum changed all that. We have
Sir Clive to thank for all those hours spent playing
Pacman and Space Invaders.
The effect: The C5 pleased no one. On
launch day, the AA condemned it as a 'hazard to the
occupant and other road users'. One motoring critic said
it had 'severe limitations', another that it was a
'fun-machine that can hardly be regarded as serious,
everyday, all-weather transport'. As problems arose,
partial solutions were invented. A 'High-vis Mast'
appeared, which made the resemblance to a
radio-controlled toy even more striking. It was the last
thing a lorry driver would see before crashing into you.
A seat booster tried to lift the driver above the exhaust
pipes, and side-panels were added to keep the nether
regions dry on the long uphill pedals.
Moments of subsequence: Despite his
best efforts, Sir Clive was unable to salvage the C5.
Within months of the launch, production had stopped, and
the company went into receivership before the end of the
year. The transformation from respected inventor to the
ridiculed creator of a national joke was instantaneous.
Sir Clive's contributions to technological progress were
glossed over, and ever since he has been remembered as
the man who invented the reclining bed on wheels.
He tried again nearly a decade later to create a
revolutionary battery-powered form of transport - the
Zike. History repeated itself, and memories of the failed
C5 lingered in the public's mind. It was launched in
August 1992, and by May 1993 the manufacturers had
already announced they were stopping production. But now
the C5 is back in fashion as a collector's item. Last
week, Maurice Levensohn announced that he had sold nearly
7,000 of the trikes - at up to £700 each - that he
bought after the venture collapsed in 1985. Many of these
have gone to Holland, where they are at home on the flat
cycle paths. You can get back on your Zike now, Sir
Clive.
Sam Coates
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