By Christopher A. Sawyer
The Virtual Driver

(February 10, 2014) I like the Ford Fusion. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about its stablemate, the Lincoln MKZ. Mechanically these two cars are nearly the same, so it should be easy to transfer my affection from the Fusion to the MKZ, and call it a day. But I can’t.

The reason is very simple: Lincoln has systematically massaged every ounce of personality out of this car in its transformation from a Ford to a Lincoln. All the while I had the car a phrase kept popping up in my head: Tailored anonymity. In its zeal to smooth every line and close every gap, the designers at Lincoln scrubbed the MKZ free of any latent personality that might have survived the transformation from family to luxury car.

In some ways it is understandable. Lincoln has no idea of what it is or what it means to be a player in the luxury car segment. Its lineup includes everything from a heavily revised Ford Expedition (the Navigator, its only model with a name and not an alpha-numeric code), to a crossover/minivan/funeral car (the MKT), to a high-styled Ford Edge (the MKX) and Taurus (the MKS).



There is no consistency of personality as all of these vehicles were created under different regimes and express varying ideas of what Lincoln should/could be.

The MKZ was to be the start of the “new” new Lincoln, and show how the prosaic pieces of a Fusion could be modified, massaged, and made to adapt to the needs, wants and desires of the entry-level luxury buyer. Only they haven’t. It’s more of the same; a carryover of the plans first fostered by Phil Martens and Elena Ford to make Lincoln to Ford what Acura is to Honda. According to these two, technology, styling and premium materials would make silk purses out of very fine sow’s ears.

Unlike the Fusion, the MKZ offers the option of a 3.7-liter V6 engine and a standard EcoBoost 2.0-liter. You can’t get the Fusion’s 2.5-liter or 1.6-liter EcoBoost four-cylinder engines. Lincoln also gives you the choice of front- or all-wheel drive, the same choice you get with the Fusion Titanium. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to drop the front-drive layout, and build the MKZ only with all-wheel drive and a choice of engines? Especially if the AWD system was tweaked to improve the car’s cornering ability as well as get drivers through the much and muss of inclement weather.

Unfortunately, in this CAFE-crazed industry, you can’t afford to drop two highway miles per gallon, so you turn away from what’s right for the brand and do what’s necessary for the company.

This same thinking made its way into the interior as well. How do you make the insides seems less like a Ford? Easy. You remove the gear lever, replacing it with a row of buttons running vertically alongside the center stack, and build a double-decker center console that has hidden storage on top and open storage on the bottom. Then you swathe everything in soft perforated leather and soft-touch covers for the instrument panel. Voila! You have a Lincoln, not a Ford.

Not really. You can’t hide the fact that the two cars are the same. Every hard point is the same, as it would be with no changes to the structure. In Ford’s defense, the same is true of the Camry and Lexus ES, though the Lexus designers made more of an effort to distinguish the upscale ES from the everyday Camry, and not many MKZ buyers are going to cross-shop at their Ford dealer.

On the plus side, the cabin is quiet and cozy, and feels luxurious. The instruments are crisp, clear and easy to read, and the instrument panel isn’t awash in buttons and knobs. This gives it a clean, slick appearance, though the center touch screen feels a bit retrograde now that consumer electronics have shifted to “no frame” displays that use edge-to-edge glass faces.

The transmission pushbuttons mentioned earlier are not the easiest things to use. Park is located up and away, and having to get unstuck by rocking the car by shifting from Reverse to Drive would demand that you lean forward to use the buttons, all the while hoping you don’t hit the wrong one of these identically sized Chiclets at the wrong time. On the plus side, the buttons are easier to use than BMW’s miniature hockey stick shifter, and they are located where no one can accidentally activate them. Still, a better solution has to be available.

Other things that bothered me included turn signals that sounded hollow and cheap, a front passenger interior door handle that was jammed and would not open the door, a trunk that could be opened only by pressing the button on the key fob or the button on the instrument panel, and outside door handles that are too big and sit at an awkward angle. In addition, the 2.0-liter EcoBoost sounded just as it does in a Fusion, not as it should in a Lincoln, and the adaptive suspension damping worked well, but could be unsettled over bumps mid-corner.

At the end of the day, I was left with the impression of a car that had all of the good points of the Ford Fusion, but few, if any, of its own. It was quiet, capable and competent, but it didn’t sir any emotions. A look at the sticker showed a base price of $37, 815, and options of $8,840 for a MSRP with delivery charges of $45,550. Except for the pushbutton shifter, adaptive dampers and inflatable rear seat belts, there was little other than the styling that sets it apart from a loaded Fusion Titanium.

That is the problem. Based on the MKZ driven, I have no idea what Lincoln stands for (other than superb tailoring), what makes it special, or why I should care.

The Virtual Driver