Why do children - all children, not just the ones who end up as car designers - like to draw cars? As a kid I was no exception, but when I grew up, I started doing it for a living. My job has allowed me to take part in car design events and to be a guest, or even a judge, at international classic car contests: true Concours d'Élégance of the kind held in gorgeous locations such as Pebble Beach in California and Villa d'Este on Lake Como. Enthusiasts and collectors flock to these stunning places from all over the world, keen to show off their own travelling works of art. Every time I talk to one of these aficionados, I am struck by the combination of astonishment and slight envy that becomes apparent as soon as they discover they're talking to a car designer. They are usually extremely successful, well-heeled people; wealthy entrepreneurs, magnates from the world of finance, internationally renowned surgeons, and so on - all individuals with very satisfying professional lives, and who possess the most amazing collections of fantastic, priceless cars. Collections that no car designer could ever possess, given that it is a job that, with the odd exception, does not make you overly wealthy. And yet, as soon as they discover what I do for a living, more often than not these people tell me that they have always dreamed about being a car designer. They really mean it, too! The passion for cars is so irrational and instinctive.

So why is that? The conclusion I have reached is that, more than any other item created by humans, the automobile embodies countless meanings, impressions and emotions that have made it one of the key symbols of the 20th century. The automobile is the product that most represents the economic and industrial boom of the last century, perfectly demonstrating both the positive and negative aspects of the period. There is perhaps no other object in the world that has captivated, and continues to captivate, the masses and individuals alike, regardless of their origins, gender or age. You don't need to attend the Concours d'Élégance at Pebble Beach to reach a similar conclusion: all it takes is a chat with anyone, even outside the circle of keen enthusiasts. Whenever I meet someone new and I happen to 'confess' what I do for a living, they begin telling me about their cars, or the car they had when they were younger, or the one they have always dreamed of owning. I get the clear impression that they could talk about them for hours. Sometimes I realise that they are more expert than I am, that they know every detail of more obscure models, to the extent that I feel embarrassed by my own ignorance. I often wonder if professionals from other sectors feel the same, though I don't remember ever overhearing lively barroom debates about washing machine performance .

Furthermore, while there are many museums dedicated to cars, I know of none for vacuum cleaners or lawnmowers. There will be some, I'm sure of it, but we can safely say that these are somewhat niche interests. Cars, however, are not niche. The automobile symbolises the good and bad of an entire era, one closely associated with something rather complicated to explain: emotion.