I recently attended the press launch for the new Lexus RX, which is a competitively priced, midsize luxury crossover that was styled by an angry man with a sword.

At this press launch, several topics came up. For instance: why did they give the styling job to this angry sword-man? Why was he so angry? What sort of sword did he have? And when are they going to put out a new plate of shrimp for us to eat?

There was also one other topic I discussed with a few people: the fact that the Lexus RX still doesn’t have three-row seating.



This is very strange. Although Lexus thinks the RX competes with the BMW X5 and the Mercedes M-Class, normal people don’t. Normal people think it competes with the Acura MDX and Infiniti QX60, both of which offer three-row seating. So do the Honda Pilot and Nissan Pathfinder on which those models are based. And even more curiously, so does the Toyota Highlander, which underpins the RX. The RX shares the same platform, the same engines, the same sizing with the Highlander — but not its three-row seating.

I assume Lexus has lost many sales over this issue. People walk into the Lexus dealer, they see that the RX has only two rows, and they go get an MDX instead. I mean, yeah, sure, maybe they considered a GX, but more likely they were concerned its giant, open-mouthed grille would eat their entire family, starting with their pets. Or maybe they were concerned the GX is a body-on-frame SUV with a standard V8 and a much higher price tag. Definitely one of the two.

But all this got me thinking: why is a third-row seat so important?

I say this because when I grew up, my parents had two vehicles: a 1987 Toyota Camry (later replaced with a 1998 Toyota Camry), and a 1992 Isuzu Rodeo. These vehicles did not have three-row seating. In fact, these vehicles didn’t even have airbags, and we turned out just fine — although in the interest of full disclosure I should mention that I walked away from a legitimate paying career to become a writer.

In fact, I don’t even really remember any specific time when we would’ve needed three-row seating. Now, I’ll grant you, I was just a kid back then, eating crayons and playing with chalk and kicking soccer ***** and shooting heroin. But wouldn’t I have remembered if there was ever a situation where we said: “Oh, darn! Better rent a minivan!”?

Admittedly, I do recall one or two times where we had to stick someone unsecured back in the cargo area of the Rodeo. This is the kind of thing you could do if you were a parent in the 1990s, before the advent of safety advocacy groups that will dispatch a live komodo dragon to your home if your child goes outside wearing anything less than a padded helmet and a brightly colored safety vest.

Plus, this only happened once or twice. Maybe five times. We certainly didn’t need to buy an entire third-row vehicle just for this rare and occasional eventuality. What we needed to do instead was just tint the windows in the cargo are a little more so the cops couldn’t see inside.

And so I ask you, ladies and gentlemen: Why is this third-row seat thing so damn important to people?

Here’s my theory: In today’s world, people who can afford to do so buy things – not just cars, but everything – for realities we may not actually face. SUVs that can go off road, even if they never will. Watches that can keep working up to 100 meters under the surface, even if we never plan to dive. Phones with so much space they could store more documents than a file cabinet, even if we only use them to take pictures of our pets. And I think maybe the third row is just an extension of this behavior.

Here’s how I see it going: A buyer walks into the Acura dealer, looks at the MDX, and says, “Hmmm… a third row! Once I had to carry little Austin’s friend Cathy around for a couple days! And what if my parents come visit? They won’t want to rent a car! Even though they have been successfully renting cars since they were 25 years old back in the 1960s!”

So you buy the third row thing, and then you complain about how small the third row is, so you never really use it. And eventually you sell it to a used car shopper with the very same mindset, and eventually they sell it to a used car shopper with the very same mindset, and then eventually it gets cheap enough that it’s used to transport drugs.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the third-row cycle of life. Do you agree?

I say this because when I grew up, my parents had two vehicles: a 1987 Toyota Camry (later replaced with a 1998 Toyota Camry), and a 1992 Isuzu Rodeo. These vehicles did not have three-row seating. In fact, these vehicles didn’t even have airbags, and we turned out just fine