Two Calls About the Same Kind of Car

A few weeks ago a client was referred to me holding a Ferrari more than twenty years old — a naturally aspirated V12, the kind of car that had sat in a collection for years without anyone thinking much about what it was worth. He was considering selling. He had noticed what I had been noticing for months: over the past year the value of that car had climbed sharply, and so had nearly every other car like it.

What stayed with me was that it was the second conversation of its kind in a matter of weeks. Another client, also holding a V12 Ferrari, had come to me for the same reason — the car had appreciated well past what he paid for it, and well past what it would have brought not long ago, and he wanted to understand whether the moment called for action.

For most of my career, the pattern ran in one direction. The newest car was the desirable car. The client who could secure the latest allocation, the freshest platform, the most power on paper — that was the client who felt he had won. The car that was three or four years old was the car you traded away to get there. That was simply how the market breathed.

That breathing has changed. And if you own one of these cars, or you have been thinking about one, it is worth understanding why — because this is not a passing enthusiasm. It is the market reorganizing itself around something it had taken for granted.

What the Market Is Actually Repricing

Let me be precise about what is moving, because the headline version of this story gets it slightly wrong.

The story is not "old exotics are going up." Plenty of them are not. The story is narrower and more interesting than that. The market is repricing a specific and finite thing: the naturally aspirated engine, in the cars that were the last to have one.

Consider the divergence inside a single brand. Modern collectible Ferrari values, by Hagerty's tracking, have climbed roughly sixteen percent in a matter of months this year. Yet inside that same brand, the newest cars are doing the opposite. The 296 and the SF90 — Ferrari's turbocharged, hybrid-assisted flagships, cars of genuine brilliance and staggering capability — have been shedding value at something close to twenty percent a year in the used market. Ferrari's own approved-used inventory has seen quiet, repeated price trims on these cars.

So, the appreciation is not just "Ferrari." It is selective. The money is not chasing the fastest cars. It is chasing a particular kind of car and leaving the others behind.

The clearest example is the Ferrari 458 Speciale. It holds a distinction that cannot be manufactured again: it is the last naturally aspirated, mid-engined V8 Ferrari the company will ever build. A 4.5-liter engine that revs to nine thousand rpm, with no turbochargers and no electric motors standing between the driver and the sound. Hagerty has documented its appreciation as sharp and sustained, well ahead of the broader collector market. The open-top Speciale A, of which only 499 were built, now trades in some cases at close to double the coupe. Auction houses have taken notice — Broad Arrow built a recent modern-Ferrari sale largely around exactly these cars.

Lamborghini tells the same story in a different accent. The Aventador — the last fully naturally aspirated V12 flagship the marque produced, no hybrid assistance anywhere in it — has become the car buyers reach for now that its replacement, the hybrid Revuelto, has established a six-hundred-thousand-dollar-plus reality as the new normal. Suddenly a naturally aspirated V12 Lamborghini at roughly half that number looks less like an old car and more like the last of something. The SVJ, the Gallardo Superleggera, the gated-shift cars from a generation earlier — all of them are firming up for the same reason.

And it extends past these two names. The front-engined V12 Ferraris. The Porsche Carrera GT. The Lexus LFA. The manual-gearbox cars from an era when the gearbox still asked something of you. The market is not being nostalgic. It is being observant. It has noticed that a specific experience is being discontinued, and it is pricing accordingly.

Why This Is Happening — And Why It Is Not Really About Speed

Here is where I want to offer you the read I do not think you will get from the auction reports, because it comes from the other side of the desk.

The industry did not abandon the naturally aspirated engine because it was bad. It abandoned it because it had no choice. Downsized, turbocharged engines make bigger numbers with better efficiency. Electrification is no longer optional — it is regulation, it is the direction of the entire industry, and it is not reversing. Even Lamborghini, the last holdout, now wraps its V12 in a hybrid system. The naturally aspirated supercar engine was not killed in a single moment. It was quietly, methodically retired by forces much larger than any one manufacturer.

Which means the buyer chasing a 458 Speciale today is not chasing performance. This is the part that people outside the business consistently miss. A new turbo-hybrid car will out-accelerate a Speciale without effort. On every measurable dimension — the numbers a spec sheet can hold — the newer car wins.

But these buyers were never evaluating a spec sheet. They were remembering a feeling.

I have spent twenty-five years watching people relate to these cars, and the thing I learned early is that the exotic car is almost never bought on its merits. It is bought on what it does to the person standing next to it. The naturally aspirated engine — the immediacy of the throttle, the way the sound climbs instead of arriving all at once, the sense that the machine is responding to you and not to a computer's interpretation of you — that is not a performance feature. It is an emotional one. And the market has finally understood that when you discontinue an emotion, you cannot bring it back with a software update.

That is the whole thing, really. The cars are not appreciating because they are fast. They are appreciating because they are the last examples of a way of driving that will not exist in new cars again. Scarcity of numbers moves a market a little. Scarcity of an experience moves it like this.

From the Floor

A few observations from inside the current market, for whatever they are worth to you:

The first thing I will say is that I do not think this is a bubble. Bubbles run on the expectation that someone will pay more tomorrow for the same thing. This is running on something sturdier. The supply of these cars is fixed and will never grow, and what people are actually buying — a way of driving that is being legislated out of existence — cannot be reissued at any price. I am not promising a straight line upward, and no market moves in one direction forever. But I would be genuinely surprised to see this reverse in any meaningful way soon. It has the shape of a structural change, not a fashion.

And a good deal of this happens away from the public eye. The headline auctions and the open market are only part of the story — a meaningful share of these cars trade privately, off-market, between people who already know what they are holding and who they would sell it to. That does not make the public sales the lesser ones; genuinely prime examples move through both. It only means that the results you can see are a portion of what is actually happening, not the whole of it.

Specification is separating the winners from the rest more sharply than it used to. Two identical Speciales are no longer identical in the market's eyes; the color, the options, the story attached to the car now account for a meaningful spread. The market has become discerning in a way that rewards the people who understood these cars before it was fashionable to.

And condition-with-provenance is quietly becoming the entire game. Low, honest mileage on a car of this kind is no longer a nice-to-have. It is the asset.

What I Would Sit With, If I Owned One

I am not in the business of telling anyone what to do with their money, and I am not going to start in a newsletter. But if you own one of these cars, I would stop thinking of it as a depreciating toy that happens to be holding up, and start thinking of it as a genuinely finite object. There will not be more of them. The supply is fixed and the story is only getting clearer.

And if you have been circling one — telling yourself you will get to it eventually — I would simply note that "eventually" has been the most expensive word in this particular market for the last eighteen months. Not because of urgency. Because of arithmetic. The cars that anchor this trend are not making the return trip to where they were.

That is as close to advice as I will come. The rest is yours.

What I'm Watching Next Month

Two things, mainly. The first is this trend itself. It has lifted the mid-engined cars and the front-engined V12 grand tourers alike, and what I want to watch now is how far it runs and where it finds its level. The second — and the one I find more telling — is legislation. The only reason these cars are finite is regulatory: emissions rules and electrification mandates are what retired the naturally aspirated engine to begin with. So any real change in that landscape, in either direction, could move this market as much as anything that happens on an auction block. That is the thread I will be keeping an eye on, and when there is something worth saying about it, I will.

Until then — if you are seeing something in your own corner of this market or sitting on a car you are trying to make sense of, reply and tell me. Some of the best reads I get on where this is heading come from the people reading this.

— Brian

Brian Adelsman has spent twenty-five years in luxury and exotic automotive sales — Bentley, Rolls-Royce, Lamborghini, McLaren, Aston Martin — and runs an independent concierge brokerage built entirely on repeat and referral clients. He is the author of The Psychology of Exotic Car Sales.

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