For more than a century, the car has been treated as a universal solution. One vehicle was expected to handle rural roads, highways, family trips, city centers, parking garages, and everything in between. As cities densified and trips became shorter, the form factor barely changed. Cars grew heavier, wider, and more complex, even as the average urban journey shrank.

In a recent episode of the Micromobility Podcast, Horace Dediu, Co-founder of Micromobility Industries joined Prabin Joel Jones to unpack why this happened, why it is increasingly irrational, and why microcars may finally force a rethink of urban mobility.

This is not a story about nostalgia or minimalism. It is about economics, history, and the slow unbundling of a vehicle that was never designed for cities in the first place.

The Car Is an Accident of History

Horace’s core argument is simple but uncomfortable. The modern car is not an urban vehicle. It is a product of a different era, shaped by rural needs and later stretched to fit cities.

Early mass-market cars were designed for farmers, not commuters. Vehicles like the Ford Model T and later icons such as the Citroën 2CV were built to cross rough terrain, carry goods, and survive poor road conditions. Cities were smaller, traffic was lighter, and safety regulations were minimal.

As highways emerged, cars were redesigned for higher speeds. Safety requirements followed, reinforcing heavier frames, larger crumple zones, and more structural bulk. These highway-optimized vehicles were then grandfathered into urban environments, where they never truly belonged.

Other transport modes evolved differently. Trains split into intercity rail and urban trams or metros. Aviation developed distinct aircraft for short-haul and long-haul routes. Cars did neither. Instead, regulation and convention froze the form factor in place.

The result is a mismatch. Most urban trips are short, slow, and single-occupant. Yet cities are filled with vehicles designed to safely transport multiple people at motorway speeds.

Why Cars Keep Getting Bigger

When asked why urban cars were never allowed to shrink, automakers and regulators give familiar answers. Consumers want space. Safety standards require it. Regulations leave no room for alternatives.

But size creates its own momentum. Heavier vehicles require stronger structures. Stronger structures increase weight. Larger wheels and higher ride heights follow. Each generation grows slightly larger than the last.

Even models that began as small cars tell the same story. The original Mini was truly compact. Each successive generation grew, justified by new regulations and consumer expectations, until the name became ironic.

This dynamic is reinforced by sunk costs. Infrastructure, supply chains, factories, and regulations are all optimized for the existing paradigm. Changing direction feels expensive and risky, even if the end state makes more sense.

In Horace’s words, no one steps back to ask why the rules exist in the first place.

Microcars as a Rational Urban Form Factor

Microcars challenge this inertia by asking a different question. What is the smallest, lightest vehicle that can solve most urban trips?

Across Europe, vehicles like the Citroën Ami, Microlino, Opel Rocks-e, and similar quadricycles offer an answer. Typically capped at lower speeds and weighing a fraction of a conventional car, these vehicles are designed explicitly for cities. Short trips. Limited space. Tight parking. Lower energy use.

They are not replacements for every journey. They are complements. Long trips, family holidays, and rural travel still favor larger vehicles. But for daily urban mobility, microcars align far better with reality.

Horace points out that most trips involve one person, occasionally two. Most urban speeds are below 30 km/h. Most parking pressure comes from vehicle size, not trip frequency. Microcars address all three.

Autonomy and the Push Toward Smaller Vehicles

Autonomy adds another layer to this shift.

Taxi fleets already think differently from private car owners. A personal car sits idle more than 90 percent of its life. A taxi aims for constant utilization. That changes how vehicles are designed. Reliability, efficiency, and cost matter more than emotional appeal.

Remove the driver and the logic becomes even clearer. Why move around a two-ton vehicle to transport one person across a dense city? Why design for frontal aesthetics or driving posture when no one is driving?

Horace describes the natural outcome as a pod-like vehicle. Interior-first. Minimal exterior requirements. Optimized for short trips and high utilization.

This is where microcars and autonomy intersect. Not because autonomy automatically creates microcars, but because fleet economics reward smaller, simpler vehicles.

Apple, Autonomy, and the Interior-First Vehicle

The conversation also revisits Apple’s abandoned vehicle project through this lens.

According to Horace, Apple’s ambition was never about building a traditional car. The bet was on autonomy arriving quickly and unlocking a new interior-focused experience. Without a driver, the windshield stops being the focal point. The vehicle becomes a space rather than a machine.

Meetings, rest, privacy, entertainment, or simply time alone. In Japan, car-sharing users were once found renting cars just to sit in them, not to travel anywhere. The vehicle became a room.

Yet Horace remains skeptical about the scale of this opportunity. People already spend hours a day on their phones. In an autonomous vehicle, the phone is likely to remain the dominant interface. Screens built into vehicles may matter less than many assume.

This tension may explain why Apple stepped back. If the phone already owns the interface, the car risks becoming an accessory rather than a platform.

Infrastructure and Policy Decide the Outcome

If microcars make sense economically and spatially, why are they still rare?

The answer lies in infrastructure and regulation.

Parking, access rules, tunnel restrictions, and vehicle classifications were written for legacy categories. Microcars often fall into awkward regulatory gaps, treated like mopeds in some contexts and cars in others.

Horace argues that adoption follows infrastructure. When cities create dedicated parking, access zones, and clear categories, behavior changes quickly. Without them, even rational solutions struggle to scale.

As parking goes, so goes the car. The same principle applies to microcars.

The Long Transition Ahead

Microcars will not replace cars overnight. Nor will autonomy instantly reshape cities. Change in mobility follows adoption curves, not headlines.

Early adopters will lead, often in unexpected segments. Delivery fleets, retirees, urban commuters, or shared fleets may move first. As visibility increases, imitation follows.

What feels niche today can become normal faster than expected once infrastructure, policy, and economics align.

The car dominated cities by accident. Microcars represent a chance to correct that accident, not by banning cars outright, but by offering a form factor that actually fits urban life.