Regardless of whether it is an accurate or useful practice, over time, enthusiasts and the general public have cultivated certain stereotypes about carmaking nations. Take Europe, for example. Think of Italian cars, and you’re likely to toss around words like “sensual,” “characterful,” “operatic,” “indulgent,” and “temperamental.” Ponder what it means to be German, and you’ll likely come up with terms like “precise,” “efficient,” “dour,” and so on. The Swedes? “Safe,” “quirky.” The French? “Innovative,” “bizarre,” and “divisive.”

All of this came to mind recently while trawling the forums of our new website, NextAutos.com. One of our most frequent and vocal commenters, Ducati Minor, posed a simple but provocative question: “Will Japan finally earn its due in building world-class sporty and luxury vehicles?” In his post, Ducati went on to suggest that, despite building some winning vehicles, “The Japanese have been unable to shake the ‘dull’ stereotype.” I quite agree.

Chat with almost anybody about Japanese cars, and they’ll readily talk about how reliable they are, how easy they are to drive and own, their efficiency, and so on. Most people discuss them in clinical, appliance-like language—passion rarely enters the equation (except when it comes to brand loyalty). But why is this so, when there are plenty of dynamically and technically gifted offerings like the Mitsubishi Evolution, Mazda MX-5, Nissan GT-R, and the Lexus LS? From where I sit, there are a few factors that cause Japanese automobiles to be viewed more as durable goods and less as passionate and innovative pieces of machinery.

The overwhelming majority of Japanese cars available today are mass-market items, a reality that subconsciously undermines the idea that they can be emotional, desirable products. Unlike Europe, Japan lacks a true stand-alone, high-dollar aspirational performance or luxury brand of global renown. Oh, there are a couple of fringe players (Mitsuoka, Ken Okuyama Designs, etc.), but Japan simply doesn’t have an internationally respected exotic brand the likes of Ferrari, Porsche, Bugatti, or Rolls-Royce.

Another issue is that Japan is only starting to find its own national design vocabulary. Cars like the Lexus LS, Mazda Miata, and even the original Nissan Z all possess compelling attributes in their own right, but they also borrow liberally (and obviously) from other nation’s design palates.

So what is it going to take for Japan to step out of the design shadows? Brutally technical, knife-edged cars like the Nissan GT-R are a step in the right direction, as is the polarizing utilitarian brilliance of the original Scion xB. These are clearly Japanese designs—it would be a stretch to imagine that Europe, Korea, or China could ever cook up shapes as severe and mechanical as these.

But there’s another possible direction, too. Perhaps the most intriguing steps toward a cohesive design language by a Japanese automaker have centered on Mazda’s recent string of Nagare (“gracious flow”) concepts. Dominated by sweeping curves and overlapping folds, Mazda says that its show cars have been inspired by nature, with the goal being to express “the emotion of motion in a stationary automobile.” Thus, things like Karesansui (Japan’s famous dry gardens) and flowing lava have been employed as inspiration for the various design textures. With the recent defection of high-profile designer Franz von Holzhauzen to upstart Tesla Motors, it will be interesting to see if the company can pull through these ideas to production vehicles. The stunning new Mazda6 is certainly a promising start.

It’s also worth noting that with the odd exception (think: Mazda MX-5), most noteworthy Japanese sports cars realize their performance through intensive use of high-technology. Most people equate high-technology with being cold and calculated (the opposite of emotional and passionate), if only because the added complexity is a natural turn-off to the mechanically-averse majority. After all, a big-block V-8, rear-drive, and a manual transmission is an easier drivetrain formula to comprehend than a forced-induction, small-displacement engine that variously routes power to all four wheels and its gets orders from a dual-clutch paddle-shift gearbox.

Perhaps most importantly, popular perception holds that most Japanese cars perform well in areas of reliability and quality. And rightly or wrongly, vehicles that have low operating costs are generally viewed as predictable, safe, and boring, while vehicles with the potential for high ownership costs (be they financial, bruised knuckles, or "stranded" stories) tend to be seen as exciting, dangerous, and enigmatic. With a dependable, financially restrained car, there's nothing that needs taming—no looming issue of sacrifice. As a culture, we love to romanticize the concepts of risk, sacrifice, and adventure, whether it’s talking to friends about going skydiving, or telling our coworkers how great that seedy-looking ethnic takeout joint down the street really is. The same applies with cars, and there’s just no sex, sizzle, or peril in buying a Toyota Camry.

In Japan's favor, they've been the low man on the global totem pole for some years. But things are changing. Not only are they starting to find their design joneses, they also have a relatively new nation on the ladder below them: Korea. Every consumer goods segment needs a national whipping boy to demonize, and Japan has inadvertently been let off the hook by the Koreans. Of course, Korea will likely clamber off the bottom rung of this ladder soon, replaced by China or perhaps India.

Finally, as a number of our forum’s contributors articulated, both European and American automakers have historically done an excellent job of making hay from their motorsports exploits. Despite having a rich history of their own, the Japanese have yet to sufficiently market their racing successes, and this inability draw attention to these accomplishments will only adversely impact their reputation on the international sports car scene.

The unifying theme here is that despite Japan’s many and varied achievements on the global automotive scene, there is still more work to be done to solidify its standing among both aficionados and everyday consumers.

I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t bet against them.

Magazine Issue: Winding Road Issue 38