Which gear shifters became true legends — fascinating facts you probably didn’t know.
Some interior details can still surprise even the most seasoned drivers. This selection highlights the most unusual innovations that changed how people think about driving. Get ready for a few unexpected discoveries.
In an era when modern technology has made gear changes almost imperceptible, it’s easy to forget how crucial the gear lever once was. In earlier times, this mechanism didn’t just connect the driver to the transmission — it felt like an extension of the driver’s own hand, letting them sense every movement of the car.
A gear selector was more than a piece of machinery. Its shape, weight, and even the satisfying click when engaging a gear all created a unique driving atmosphere. Drivers learned to “read” its mood — especially on cold mornings, when thick gearbox oil demanded patience and finesse.
Over the decades, countless variations appeared, but only a few became truly iconic: from long-throw manual sticks that required precision and skill, to experimental button panels that defined an entire design era. Some even took ergonomics to the extreme — like steering wheel–mounted selectors or joystick-style controls on the center console.
Each design didn’t just serve a function — it shaped a driver’s emotional connection to their car. Shifting gears wasn’t just a mechanical action; it was a dialogue between human and machine. Today, as electronic systems take over more driving tasks, these mechanical masterpieces are becoming rare, yet they remain symbols of true automotive craftsmanship.
The most unusual selectors were never about looks alone — they redefined how drivers interacted with their cars, demanding attention and precision. For many enthusiasts, these small details are what make a car truly special, turning every trip into an event.
Enough talk — let’s begin.
And really, we Americans deserve most of the credit for this evolution. We’ve always had a deep aversion to the traditional manual gearbox. Believe it or not, even the Ford Model T used a semi-automatic transmission. There was no familiar stick shift in the “Tin Lizzie,” and the car automatically engaged second gear (the top one) at around 30 km/h once you pressed the clutch.
A far more elegant and convenient solution arrived in the 1930s — the so-called pre-selector gearbox, featured on high-end models like the French Delahaye and the American Cord. Mounted near the steering wheel, the selector allowed the driver to choose a gear with a light flick of the fingers, which then engaged when the clutch was pressed.
The age of buttons began in the mid-1950s. Chrysler, the boldest innovator among Detroit’s Big Three, introduced push-button gear selectors for its 1956 models. Even relatively affordable Plymouths with the three-speed Powerflite automatic came with a four-button panel to the left of the steering wheel. The keys labeled R, N, D, and L stood for Reverse, Neutral, Drive, and Low.
Top-tier Chrysler Imperials even had buttons for first and second gears — not especially useful, but a quirky fact nonetheless. Later, this same system appeared on De Soto, Chrysler, and Plymouth models.
On Imperials, the push-button automatics came standard, while on Plymouths they cost an extra $120 — a hefty sum back then. Still, more than 60% of 1956 Plymouth buyers paid for the futuristic feature. Remarkably, Chrysler’s fully mechanical linkage system proved reliable and easy to use.
Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for the Touch Button Ultramatic transmission Packard introduced that same year. Available as standard on the luxury Caribbean or a $52 option on other Packards, it seemed more advanced than Chrysler’s system — at least on paper. The buttons on the panel to the driver’s right activated an electric motor that shifted gears automatically.
But the elegant idea didn’t hold up in practice. The Ultramatic’s motor often overheated and failed to engage gears. By that time, Packard was already on its last legs, and no one bothered to perfect the system.
Public fascination with push-buttons, however, inspired Ford Motor Company. The very next year, 1957, saw the debut of button-operated gear selectors on Mercury models. The Keyboard Control system, located to the left of the driver, used a mechanical linkage just like Chrysler’s Powerflite.
But the most famous — or infamous — push-button system was Ford’s Teletouch, introduced in 1958 on the brand-new Edsel. In theory, it was brilliant: the buttons were placed at the center of the steering wheel, bringing all major controls together.
In reality, it caused endless headaches. Some drivers pressed the gear buttons by mistake when trying to honk. The system’s poorly sealed electrical contacts also led to frequent malfunctions. The Teletouch lasted just one model year, and when the Edsel brand itself soon collapsed, many blamed the transmission — though that wasn’t entirely fair.
General Motors, notably, stayed out of the “button craze.” Chrysler, on the other hand, put push-button automatics across its entire lineup — even on entry-level Valiants. The feature vanished completely after the 1964 model year.
The Volkswagen ID.4 is a car full of unconventional ideas — from the absence of physical climate controls to its downright bizarre gear selector. Inspired perhaps by 1990s Nissan sports cars, Volkswagen mounted the selector directly on the instrument cluster, attached to the display itself. The trapezoidal lever rotates to select one of three positions.
It’s an odd placement — not quite as close to the steering wheel as in a Mercedes, so you can’t simply flick it with your fingertips. You have to reach for it. Credit to Volkswagen for trying something new, but the result remains questionable at best.
In the Lamborghini Urus, a massive cluster of selectors sits just below the center console. On the left are drive modes — Strada, Sport, Corsa, and Rally — while on the right is the customizable Ego mode.
Beneath the Ego selector are additional switches for the chassis, steering, and suspension settings. Three central buttons and indicators show the current gear.
The real drama lies in the start button. If you’re not into theatrical gestures, you might find it over the top — you lift a small red cover to access it, or simply poke your finger through the opening to press it. It’s strange, but then again, that’s Lamborghini.
Pagani has long been known for its eccentric gear selectors — both manual and automatic. The brand’s latest masterpiece, the Utopia, continues that tradition with breathtaking attention to detail.
Calling its exposed mechanical shifter “typical” would be unfair — it’s a rare work of art. But for Horacio Pagani’s team, such extravagance is standard practice.
Other boutique automakers, like Koenigsegg, have adopted similar visible mechanisms. The Koenigsegg C8, for instance, featured a beautifully exposed shift linkage — an approach later echoed by mainstream sports car brands.
The six-speed manual gearbox in the early-2000s Civic Si had a truly strange layout. The shifter was mounted high on the center console, reminiscent of the Toyota Prius.
The lever sat at a 45-degree angle, and its top was covered in rubber instead of leather — an unusual material choice that had gone out of style decades earlier. In the late ’70s and early ’80s, even Porsche used similar materials on the classic 911, but by the 2000s, it felt oddly retro.
Few gear selectors have influenced the industry as much as BMW’s joystick-style shifter, first seen on the 2006 BMW X5 (E70). It broke tradition — the lever no longer had any physical connection to the gearbox.
Even today, many drivers find it unintuitive. To operate it, you hold the unlock button while nudging the lever — up for reverse, down for drive, down and left for sport/manual mode. BMW refined the setup over the years, but the concept remained the same.
Soon, nearly every major manufacturer followed suit — Mercedes, Audi, Porsche, and Volkswagen all introduced their own “shift-by-wire” systems.