Triumphant at 50: The Underrated TR7

Last year was a big one for wedgy shapes—the Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance had two classes dedicated to the style, and door-stop supercars from the 1970s onward appear to be rising in line with their vertically pointing swage lines.

However, 50 years ago the design trend was deeply controversial, particularly for British sports cars. No car exemplifies that more than the Triumph TR7, which celebrates its 50th birthday in 2025 (though production started in autumn of 1974).

The car’s designer, the late Harris Mann, wanted to introduce modern verve to ailing British brands—the original sketches for the Austin Princess were far more futuristic than what actually came next. With British Leyland having five cars across its various brands competing with each other, rationalization and focus was what was needed—and in the TR7, the target was America. 

The U.S. preference for front-engined, rear-wheel-drive cars with simple engineering was top of mind, the Porsche 914 and Fiat X1/9 deemed the TR7’s biggest rivals. Because the U.S. was teetering on the brink of a ban on convertibles, the MGB was left to cater to that market, as long as convertibles had a place. Eventually, the TR7 would replace the MGB.

Problems arose when that focus started to shift—the MGB was selling so well that the TR7 was pushed up, price-wise. Harris Mann eased the original design to give it a more premium feel—but because America was the car’s primary focus, it required large rubber bumpers. Add in an X-shaped front subframe and a front crumple zone, and this was among one of the more robust sports cars of a safety-conscious era.

Under the hood lay a development of the Triumph Dolomite’s four-cylinder engine, matched to the Morris Marina’s four-speed manual gearbox, with the option of the Rover V-8 sourced from the P5B, P6B, and Range Rover. It would also have a live rear axle. 

However, the pressure to get the car into U.S. showrooms was immense, to the point that the usual testing regimen was abandoned—it had to be in America for the press reveal at the dawn of 1975. It also had to be well built, comfortable, and fun to drive—and on the press trip, all was well … other than the styling.

Journalists didn’t take to the TR7 particularly well. Their vision of a British sports car lived up to the ideals of the MGB and to Triumph’s immediate forebears. The wedgy shape might have worked for Porsche and Fiat, but even one of the proponents of that styling vanguard took a dislike to it. At the 1975 Geneva motor show, Giorgetto Giugiaro issued a legendary bon mot: “Oh my God! They’ve done it to the other side as well.”

Styling aside, the other big problem the TR7 faced was U.S. anti-pollution laws, which strangled the four-cylinder engine to 90 hp—and 76 hp in California specification. It was hardly sporty in the way the outgoing six-cylinder was, even though that car’s chassis was often criticized. The V-8 was on the way for the U.S. market, but sadly the first few years would not go as planned.

The European launch went well ahead of the car’s 1976 introduction—after all, the TR7’s four-pot had more power over there (though some thought that wasn’t enough). However, it was power of another kind that ultimately doomed the TR7’s reputation in period.

In October 1976, the TR7 factory in Speke, Liverpool, went on strike, and the cars that were produced were built poorly and were unreliable. In the end, production was moved to Canley, near Coventry, in 1978, just as the finishing touches were being made to the TR8—and the possible launch of a convertible version. However, the biggest result of the Speke closure was the curtailment of the TR7 Sprint program, which would have introduced the Dolomite’s innovative 16-valve cylinder head to the TR7. That change would have delivered similar performance to the Rover V-8–powered car. Around 50 were built, but given the four-cylinder car’s criticism of being “a chassis in search of an engine,” we can’t help but wonder what might have been. 

Similarly, the Lynx project—a 2+2 fastback intended to replace the Stag—would have added depth to the range via stretched wheelbase, the V-8 engine and the Rover SD1’s rear axle. The Speke closure nixed that idea, too.

The good news—if there was any during this difficult era—was that the Canley cars were much better built, and though the wider British Leyland development budget was being funneled into new hatchbacks, the car was improved. The five-speed gearbox from the Rover SD1 was added, as well as improvements to the paint choices and interior fixtures. The sources of many of the reliability problems—the electrics, instruments, and cooling—were also addressed.

In 1979, the TR7 convertible appeared, which did much to address the aesthetic criticism. It was also much stronger thanks to an extra box section behind the rear seats, reinforcements behind the quarter panels, and a novel end-weighted front bumper to eradicate scuttle shake. Despite being much more robust, the car managed to buck the trend for convertibles by being lighter than the coupe.

A year later, the V-8–powered TR8 was launched in the U.K., delivering on the promise laid down by the aesthetics. It’s 133-hp grunt was warmly received by the U.S. press, and UK journalists bemoaned the fact it was unavailable in Blighty, save for a limited run of 35.

It would be too little, too late, as production moved to Solihull, southeast of Birmingham, in late 1980, before the end came a year later.

Why? The MGB was still popular and was viewed as cannibalizing TR7 sales, but the canceling of the entire MG brand did little to arrest poor sales figures, and prevent unsold TR7s piling up. It was a difficult time—the socio-political hangover of the 1970s had yet to be transformed into the 1980s economic miracle, and tensions in the Middle East had led to global recession, which dented profitability as the Sterling rose against the dollar. 

However, to view the TR7 as a failure is to give in to copy-and-paste opinions. The TR7 may not be held aloft with the same enthusiasm as other wedges of the era, but it’s got a dedicated and enthusiastic set of supporters who love the style, the comfort and, in TR8 form, the performance. Spares and tuning parts are also readily available.

There’s another factor too: Far from being a failure, the TR7 was the best-selling out of all the Triumph TRs. Around 115,000 TR7/8s were built—more than the TR250, TR5, and TR6 put together.

As the TR7 turns 50, perhaps it deserves credit for being the sports car that dared to dream differently.