In the late 1990s, electric cars drifted in and out of the public imagination like half-remembered dreams. Automakers experimented, regulators debated, and engineers tried to coax range out of battery packs that weighed more than the vehicles themselves. Of all the attempts, few were stranger, or more reluctant, than Honda’s EV-Plus, a car built not out of corporate enthusiasm but because the state of California forced the company’s hand. It was a machine ahead of its time, quietly brilliant, modestly capable, and destined to disappear almost as soon as it arrived.
The genesis of the EV-Plus lies with the California Air Resources Board’s Zero Emission Vehicle mandate, introduced in the early 1990s. CARB wanted the major automakers to develop cars that produced no tailpipe emissions. Manufacturers resisted; the technology was expensive, untested, and outside the industry’s comfort zone. But the mandate tightened each year, and by the mid-1990s, companies like GM, Ford, Toyota, and Honda had no choice but to build full battery-electric vehicles for public sale or lease.
Honda responded with a mixture of engineering pride and corporate reluctance. Engineers in Tochigi and Torrance developed what would become the EV-Plus: a purpose-built electric vehicle that shared no major components with Honda’s gasoline lineup. At its core sat a nickel-metal hydride battery pack, far more advanced than the lead-acid units still used by many early EV competitors. The EV-Plus offered roughly 80 miles of real-world range, silent operation, and unexpectedly smooth acceleration. In an era when most electric cars felt like science projects, Honda built something refined.
Yet from the beginning, Honda did not want people to own it. The company offered the EV-Plus exclusively as a lease, with tightly controlled terms and a relatively small production run. The price, roughly $455 a month, reflected Honda’s desire to meet regulatory quotas without cultivating mass consumer demand. Drivers who managed to secure leases, however, often fell in love with the car. Many described it as practical, reliable, and shockingly advanced for 1997. Unlike GM’s EV1, the Honda EV-Plus came as a four-seat hatchback with usable cargo space, a comfortable interior, and the kind of build quality Honda was known for.
But the EV-Plus also existed in a regulatory and technological no-man’s-land. Honda viewed pure EVs as impractical for widespread use. The company believed the future lay not in batteries but in hybrid systems, technology it was developing in secret for what would eventually become the Honda Insight. To Honda’s leadership, the EV-Plus was a political obligation, a box to be checked, not a product to nurture. Even as customers praised the car, the corporate strategy pushed toward hybrids, not full electrics.
By the late 1990s, CARB’s ZEV mandate began to lose political momentum. Automakers lobbied aggressively. Oil companies joined the fight. Lawsuits and federal pressure undercut the regulations. As the mandate weakened, the economic justification for low-volume EVs evaporated. Honda scaled back EV-Plus production and prepared to phase out the program entirely. When leases ended, Honda reclaimed nearly every EV-Plus on the road. Most were dismantled. A handful were donated to universities, with their battery packs disabled to prevent further road use.
For drivers who cherished their EV-Plus vehicles, the reclaiming felt like a betrayal. As with GM’s EV1, lessees pleaded to keep their cars. Honda refused. The company maintained the vehicles were experimental and could not be supported long-term. Many suspected the real reason was simpler: the EV-Plus contradicted Honda’s emerging public narrative of hybrid leadership. The Insight launched in 1999, the Civic Hybrid soon after, and the EV-Plus became an inconvenient historical hiccup, evidence that Honda had built a viable EV long before it cared to admit.
Technically, the EV-Plus was remarkable. Its nickel-metal hydride batteries, supplied by Panasonic, offered longevity that early lithium-ion packs struggled to match. Owners reported that even after years of daily use, battery capacity remained surprisingly stable. The car’s onboard charger was reliable and fast for the era. The interior was comfortable. Range was consistent. Had Honda continued development, the EV-Plus could have evolved into a legitimate competitor in the early-2000s EV landscape.
But that path was never taken. Honda dismantled the fleet, closed the EV-Plus program, and shifted to hybrid development. Decades later, Honda would struggle to reestablish itself in the electric market, ironic, considering it once produced one of the most advanced EVs of its time. The EV-Plus became a rarity, a footnote, a ghost of an alternate timeline where Honda embraced electrification instead of resisting it.
Today, only a handful of EV-Plus shells survive in museums and research facilities. Their disabled battery packs, sealed hoods, and locked powertrains stand as silent reminders of a moment when the electric future was forced into existence, and quietly erased. The EV-Plus remains not just a lost car, but a symbol of how corporate reluctance, regulatory battles, and shifting priorities can bury even the most promising innovations.
Editor’s Note: This article synthesizes automotive reporting, regulatory history, and firsthand accounts from EV-Plus lessees. Because Honda did not publicly release detailed internal documentation, the narrative reflects the most consistently documented elements across multiple sources.
Sources & Further Reading:
– California Air Resources Board (CARB) ZEV mandate history and regulatory filings
– Contemporary reporting on the EV-Plus program (1997–2000)
– Interviews with former EV-Plus lessees and early EV historians
– Technical analyses of Honda’s NiMH battery system in the EV-Plus
– Documentation of Honda’s transition from EV development to hybrid strategy
– Museum archives preserving remaining EV-Plus vehicles
(One of many stories shared by Headcount Coffee — where mystery, history, and late-night reading meet.)
