The Evolution of the Icon: My Top 5 Porsche 911s Across Four Decades
For over 40 years, I have had the privilege of testing some of the world’s most iconic automobiles, but none capture the imagination and endure like the Porsche 911. My very first encounter was with a white 3.0-liter Carrera—a raw, unadulterated machine with black Fuchs wheels, no power steering, and a five-speed manual gearbox. It was fast, certainly, but it was also deeply flawed, a brutal dance of physics that demanded respect and understanding.
At the time, in my native Australia, it cost the same as a 944 Turbo. The 944 felt easier; it had more power, more torque, and was quicker through corners with less effort. Yet, as I wrote in my journal after two days and 600 miles, “I know the 944 Turbo is the better car. But I also know that if it came to the crunch, that if it were me agonizing over how to spend my money, I’d take the 911 Carrera home.” It was a conclusion reached not through logic, but through emotion. The 944 was competent, capable of making an average driver look good, with a chassis of astounding ability. But the 911, in its gloriously imperfect way, spoke to a different era, a different set of values. It didn’t cater to the masses; it demanded understanding, demanded respect. That is why I would take it home.
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The Evolution of the Icon: My Top 5 Porsche 911s Across Four Decades
For over 40 years, I have had the privilege of testing some of the world’s most iconic automobiles, but none capture the imagination and endure like the Porsche 911. My very first encounter was with a white 3.0-liter Carrera—a raw, unadulterated machine with black Fuchs wheels, no power steering, and a five-speed manual gearbox. It was fast, certainly, but it was also deeply flawed, a brutal dance of physics that demanded respect and understanding.
At the time, in my native Australia, it cost the same as a 944 Turbo. The 944 felt easier; it had more power, more torque, and was quicker through corners with less effort. Yet, as I wrote in my journal after two days and 600 miles, “I know the 944 Turbo is the better car. But I also know that if it came to the crunch, that if it were me agonizing over how to spend my money, I’d take the 911 Carrera home.” It was a conclusion reached not through logic, but through emotion. The 944 was competent, capable of making an average driver look good, with a chassis of astounding ability. But the 911, in its gloriously imperfect way, spoke to a different era, a different set of values. It didn’t cater to the masses; it demanded understanding, demanded respect. That is why I would take it home.
Since that first encounter, I have driven countless iterations of the 911. Apart from the 964 in the early 1990s, which seemed to suggest the 911 concept was nearing its expiry date, each subsequent model has been a masterclass in engineering refinement, keeping the icon relevant, exciting, and engaging. Four decades on, the 911 remains one of the very few new cars on which I would spend my own hard-earned money.
Out of the dozens of 911s I have tested over the years, five stand out as the most memorable, the most significant, the ones that truly defined their eras and pushed the boundaries of what we thought was possible.
The Original 911 Turbo (1975)
Back when I first experienced the 3.0-liter Carrera, veteran automotive journalists spoke of the original Porsche 911 Turbo—the 930—in awed, reverent tones. It was not just a car; it was a legend, a machine that demanded the utmost respect when driven with intent. The 911 Turbo of that era was a beast of binary performance. Its power band was narrow and abrupt, a sledgehammer blow that could throw you into the weeds if you didn’t respect it. The traditional 911 tightrope, balancing corner-entry understeer with corner-exit oversteer, became a high-wire act requiring quick hands and the courage to push the limits. The 930 did not forgive mistakes, nor did it tolerate sloppiness.
For 35 years, I heard the stories, read the warnings, and remained intrigued. It took me until the mid-2010s to finally get behind the wheel of an original 911 Turbo and discover the truth for myself. The example I drove was one of the first 30 production Turbos ever built, now a prized possession of Porsche’s classic collection.
Aware of its fearsome reputation, I approached it with caution. I took it very easy at first, slowly building my rapport with the machine. I played with the throttle, testing the initial tip-in response and watching the tachometer, trying to create a mental map of the power and torque curves. The engine was surprisingly tractable at low RPMs. Driving at 45 mph in top gear, the engine hummed quietly at 2,000 rpm, happy to tick along as we cruised.
However, once the revs climbed past 3,500 rpm, the engine truly came alive. There was a noticeable surge of acceleration as the turbocharger pressurized the induction system with 0.8 bar of boost. But the sledgehammer blow I had been warned about was absent. The power delivery, while aggressive, was manageable if you understood how to use it.
I learned that the trick to smooth and quick progress in the original 911 Turbo was to keep the 3.0-liter flat-six spinning above 4,000 rpm. This ensured the turbocharger remained spooled up, ready to deliver power when needed. Yes, there was noticeable turbo lag by modern standards, but it was something you could work around. Even today, more than 50 years after its introduction, this 911 remains an impressively fast car on the road. First gear will easily take you up to 50 mph, second to 90 mph, and third to nearly 130 mph. This means you can destroy most winding two-lane roads using only second and third gears. And while it might only have 256 hp, its low weight of just 2,513 pounds means it excels at getting in and out of corners quickly. Half a century ago, its performance would have seemed otherworldly.
The Last of the Air-Cooled Masters: Porsche 993-Generation (1996)
For Porsche purists, the 993-generation 911 is the pinnacle, the last of the air-cooled line, the last of the “real” 911s. It is the car you drive with your knuckles brushing the dash, the snarling, metallic clatter of an air-cooled flat-six singing directly behind your ears. But back in 1994, when I first drove the 993, it represented the future of the 911. It was the first model to truly challenge the foundational physics of the rear-engined layout, to argue with Isaac Newton and win.
Make no mistake, the 993 still had the signature 911 quirks. The front end still felt light and required loading up as you approached the apex, and the rear end could still feel a bit nervous through the rougher turns. However, there was a new harmony between the front and rear that was absent in previous generations. The 993 still embodied the classic 911 character, but it did so within a much wider margin of error.
The key to this transformation was a revolutionary rear suspension. Porsche replaced the old semi-trailing arms with a sophisticated new multilink setup. This innovation allowed for very slight initial toe-out on corner entry and then progressive toe-in as lateral loads increased. Crucially, it also dramatically reduced the camber change that had been the Achilles’ heel of the 911 since 1963.
This mechanical update was combined with a significant steering upgrade. At 2.5 turns lock-to-lock, the steering was 16 percent quicker than the previous model, making the front end feel much more precise and decisive. Porsche also introduced a new six-speed manual transmission that allowed drivers to better exploit the 3.6-liter flat-six engine. With lighter internals, a Bosch Motronic 2.0 engine management system, and a new dual exhaust system, the 3.6-liter engine zinged harder to its 268 hp power peak at 6,100 rpm.
Compared to the 964 model it replaced, the 993 was a revelation. It wasn’t just the engineering upgrades, overseen by Ulrich Bez, who would later lead Aston Martin: The exterior redesign, led by design chief Harm Lagaay, corrected the visual flaws of the 964, which he considered too tall at the front and too pulled down at the rear. The interior was cleaner, too, with fewer buttons scattered randomly across the dash. The 993 was faster, more forgiving, and, most importantly, far more desirable. It was the last of the air-cooled 911s, and Porsche went out with a bang.
The Water-Cooled Hero: Porsche 996-Generation (1998)
At the time of its release, the decision to install a water-cooled flat-six in the tail of the 996-series 911 was viewed by many aficionados as automotive heresy. It was the equivalent of Bob Dylan switching to an electric guitar at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival—a betrayal of everything the purists held sacred. But to me, the 996 was a hero car. It was the 911 that saved Porsche.
Engineered and developed under the leadership of Porsche’s R&D chief Horst Marchart, the 996 was a stroke of genius. Its cleverest feature was the fact that it shared 38 percent of its components with the all-new, mid-engine roadster the world would soon come to know as the Boxster. The legendary Porsche boss Wendelin Wiedeking understood that the Boxster was essential to give dealers something else to sell when the aging 928 and 968 models were phased out. “We did two cars for the price of one-and-a-half,” design boss Harm Lagaay remarked with a wry smile after Porsche unveiled the 996.
However, while much of the media attention focused on the Boxster relationship and the water-cooled engine controversy, the 996’s true significance ran much deeper. In 1994