Archive Road Test: 1981 Honda Civic Sedan, the First Four-Door Civic

From the May 1981 issue of Car and Driver.

Hot diggity, it’s time for tax refunds again, and you know what that means: more impulse buying. It’s an economic disease, a giddy and easy kind of thing to catch. Its outbreaks are usually related to refunds, raises, and bonus checks, but can pop up without apparent provocation, too. Your life extra good today? Or maybe the boss just dumped on you? Or you just got the blahs? Shazam, pump up with a little purchase!

A car is about the biggest pop that most of us figure is a reasonable sort of impulse item (premarriage present or postdivorce pick-me-up, especially), but Honda doesn’t build many Civics that go to impulse buyers. Though Civics are plenty fun enough to qualify, they’re still too sensible, and that goes in spades for the new Civic four-door sedan. What has us worried is that Honda may have turned into something of an impulse builder.

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Aaron Kiley|Car and Driver

Minor shortcomings that we accept as part of the deal in little hatchback econoboxes somehow loom larger when the same basic platform is turned into a miniature four-door sedan. And the step up from the existing Civic hatchback to the existing Accord sedan was so logical that slotting a half-step model in between seems almost superfluous. Perhaps this is because we expect different things of a sedan, teeny or not, even when it’s a handsome little devil, all clean and crispy. Right off, you know the Civic sedan is all-around sensible in a way that a hatchback can never be. But should it perhaps also be expected to gain some additional refinement as part of the deal? After all, now it looks like a real car! That’s what they’ll be saying out there in Latrobe and Enid and San Rafael.

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Aaron Kiley|Car and Driver

As soon as we saw the pictures we knew we wanted to spend lots of time with the Civic four-door. Honda heard us and squirted one right out for a long-term test, and this short take is the opening inquiry in finding out if Japan has once again read us Americans right. And to see if the solid quality of most Japanese cars in recent years is still to be considered a given.

We like the basic premise of the Civic four-door, but we’re finding a few disheartening catches along the way. For one thing, there are a few rattles, jingles, and squeaks inside. The ride is a little clumpy. The Advanced Stratified Charge CVCC engine technology still doesn’t deliver good cold-weather starts or low-speed drivability. The shift linkage is still a touch rubbery. The pedals arc a little too close and the steering wheel is a little too far away. The steering still pulls this way and that under acceleration. But, dammitall, the Civic is still fun to drive, economical to operate, neat to look at, and satisfying to have around, so what we’re doing here is just picking away at the nits in our quest for the perfect puddle jumper.

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Aaron Kiley|Car and Driver

In growing into a four-door, the Civic has gained 2.7 inches of wheelbase, 13.0 inches of overall length, 1.2 inches of height, 150 pounds of weight, and a miniature trunk. In return you get better looks, a touch more legroom, increased headroom, slightly fewer miles per gallon, a different opinion of yourself, and a higher level of respect from the neighbors. This Civic is still tiny, but it’s no longer a toy.

It’s a nipper for levering neatly through traffic past the rat race, but it’s also a sociable little cuss that slips through the flow without leaving a wake of outraged 55-mph vigilantes fuming at its passage. Who could get teed off at such an obviously economical and practical little container? It’s got all the usual upstream Civic fancinesses, the 1.5-liter engine with electronic ignition, the five-speed gearbox (a three-speed automatic is optional), the fully independent suspension with MacPherson struts at all four wheels, the rack-and-pinion steering, the power-assisted front disc brakes, the plump steel-belted radial blackwalls, and the simple and classy paint jobs in Rhodes Red (our car), Levanna Brown, and Saint-Moritz Silver.

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Aaron Kiley|Car and Driver

The metallic red is fine, but frankly we’d go for the silver or metallic brown just because the dark-gray instrument panel matches the interior and dash colors much better in those. The red car comes with a red interior and a red dash, and the color emphasizes the busy facia of controls and doodads. These are useful and most of them are well placed, Honda’s ergonomics remaining well above average, but they’re also ornate in a baroque plastique sort of way, and that’s why a gray or tan dash fits around them more artfully. In any case, the instrumentation is good; the controls are easy to find, remember, and work; the heating and cooling waft upon you like a charm; and everything fits to a fare-thee-well.

The radios Honda has on parade are probably available in more configurations than those from any other manufacturer. The four-speaker AM/FM/cassette stereo, auto-reverse, Dolbyized, push-button number in our car is but a single step below Honda’s electronic, digital-readout killer outfit; and ours, complete with a balance knob, a fader, and local/distant FM switching, was a fine addition to the car except for the fact that Honda put the thing much too close to the steering column, where it’s hidden by the wheel and where it’s an awkward reach around and down between your knee and the wheel. In the pod, Honda guys—put it in the pod where you’ve got the cigarette devices now. And while you’re at it, tone down the trim on the digital quartz clock. Leave the steering wheel alone, it’s terrific; and the horn buttons on the spokes are an ideal example for all the cranial throwbacks who’ve taken to hiding the horn control away in a stalk someplace.

Aaron Kiley|Car and Driver

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Aaron Kiley|Car and Driver

Honda has basically nice seats, covered with velour on the important surfaces that greet your body, and there’s plenty of room in front and a modest amount in back. When we reached down for a lever to adjust the tilt of the seat, the trunk popped open instead. No tilting seats. The back-seat cushions squat down a little low for real thigh support, but the backrest is nicely contoured. The trunk itself, which is what all the fuss is about, is fairly wide and goes back a moderate distance under the package shelf, but it is not very deep from top to bottom and so comes out a mixed blessing: ten cubic feet. At the very least, it’s more secure than a simple fold-over cover in a hatchback.

All taken, the Civic four-door is often taken. Somehow its keys never languish long on our board. Its engine is a runner, pulling fifth gear beautifully, and its handling says to go for it. With a better ride and a couple of interior rallies tamped down, the Civic would tote up even more stars than we already give it. Still, we are Civic minded and you’ll hear from us again on this matter. Come back in about 25,000 miles.