Lancia Thesis V6 3,0 Emblema

Lancia Thesis 3,0 V6 Emblema

I have perhaps never experienced a car that evokes as much internal conflict in me as the Lancia Thesis. It is a vehicle so specific, in both good and bad ways, that it could hardly be more so.

At the turn of the millennium, Lancia was in a position where, as an automaker with a vast history, it offered a wide range of models—from the smallest, the Lancia Y, to the large Phedra MPV. As was tradition for the brand, a distinctive limousine always sat on the imaginary throne. And by 'distinctive,' I mean always exceptional in some way. However, being exceptional does not always equate to success. It is always a matter of priorities and perspective.

The Thesis replaced its predecessor, the Kappa, and the even older Thema, which certainly deserved the label 'exceptional' in its 2.0 Turbo 16V or even 8.32 versions. Lancia decided to follow up on this legacy. But as sometimes happens when one is over-motivated, they failed to notice small details because they were looking too far ahead, and the goal vanished along the way. This is exactly what happened to Lancia. The automaker opted for a straightforward but very dangerous recipe: 'If we take the best we have from our shelves and put it together, we will create the best limousine.' The result? It didn't work. It was like the traditional Czech fairy tale by Josef Čapek about the Doggie and the Pussycat, who wanted to bake a cake as good as possible. They thought that by using the best ingredients, it had to turn out well. In the end, they both ended up with a stomachache. And that is exactly what happened with the Thesis.

The Lancia Thesis was unveiled at the 2001 Geneva Motor Show and drew immense attention. It was so bold that few could digest it. The design was based on the 1998 'Dialogos' concept. The project lead who designed the direction was the American Michael Vernon Robinson. The interior was the responsibility of Flavio Manzoni, a name later associated with Ferrari. The exterior was designed by Marco Tencone, who was also behind the Dialogos concept. Regarding the interior, I believe an amazing job was done. Its concept deserves admiration and will be discussed in detail below. However, the exterior is the most controversial point of the entire project. It shows an attempt to blend two difficult-to-mix worlds: the past and the future. This is truly the hardest task. The creators were inspired by historic limousines like the Aurelia or Flavia, but they wanted to frame everything in the design language of tomorrow. The result was, is, and always will be divisive. I dare say that few cars have such sharply divided camps—there are only those who love it and those who cannot stand the sight of it. This car will leave you with emotions whether you want it to or not. The question is, which ones.

Personally, I must say that I have always liked the Thesis for its freshness and peculiarity. It is a car you don't often encounter on the road. The front is dominated by a massive chrome grille, which I personally consider the least successful design element. Although the hood is large, this element does not harmonize with it; I feel some American influence there. Conversely, the main headlights are very interesting, being quite small relative to the size of the front section. A similar approach can be seen in the pre-facelift Alfa Romeo 166. A certain disharmony is created between the small lights and the large grille. The middle part of the car—the cabin, fenders, and doors—offers nothing original; one could say they are ordinary and interchangeable. I find the rear of the car most interesting, where the thin vertical lights are highly original and perfectly match the otherwise smooth, sloping rear. And when it gets dark—no one else had such an original LED light signature at that time. No one! Lancia fitted 16-inch wheels as standard, with 17-inch wheels available for an extra charge. The Centenario version then featured 18-inch wheels, which to me seem almost too modern for the car, as if they didn't originally belong to it.

If there was one area where the Italians truly excelled in a positive sense, it was the interior. Here, it is a truly noble limousine in every respect. Ample space in all seats ensures very comfortable travel. The interior could be specified in many shades that perfectly harmonized with the exterior paintwork—something the Italians master perfectly. Whether you choose dark grey, dark blue, red, or beige, it will always suit the car. The seats and door panels did not offer standard fabric; the choice was between Alcantara or leather. In the early stages of production, the car was also offered with a high-quality wool upholstery known as 'Panno Lancia.' At the very top was leather from the master of the craft, Poltrona Frau. Even after 25 years of use, this leather shows no signs of wear—it is not cracked and has not faded; it is simply perfect.

However, the plastics in the car do not deserve the same praise. They are brittle, and the plastic covers on the sides beneath the seats typically crack. After years, their surface becomes so unpleasantly sticky that you do not want to touch them; you would need a very good reason to reach for the ceiling grab handle. Unfortunately, this issue was widespread across Italian automakers, whether we are talking about Lancia, Alfa Romeo, or even Maserati.

The dashboard itself is very elegant; the instrument cluster features clear graphics with white backlighting and is pleasant to look at. A strip of genuine wood runs through the entire interior like a continuous line, which, combined with the leather on the doors and dashboard, creates the feeling of traveling on a comfortable sofa in the middle of a living room rather than in a car. The dashboard features finely perforated ventilation outlet panels in several places, which are made of magnesium! Higher trim levels, such as our tested Emblema, even include a sunroof with an integrated solar panel. If you park the car on a seaside riviera and the sun shines on it all day, the solar panel will power the internal air circulation system even with the ignition off, ensuring the interior temperature stays at 50 degrees instead of 60 :-).

Lancia wanted to make its flagship as comfortable as possible, to the point where they overdid it. Everything on board is interwoven with electronics. Notable features include rear sunblinds controlled by a button on the center console, or the ability for a rear passenger to slide the front seat forward to gain more legroom. But then situations arise where a car equipped with—and please, take a seat—up to 50 control units (depending on the trim) becomes stubborn. At that point, you might not even be able to open the glovebox. The seats and doors even have their own dedicated control units. Everything is interconnected through extremely complex bus systems. Many of these electronic 'frenemies' are powered by a small auxiliary battery hidden in the right side of the trunk. If it dies, you cannot release the electronic parking brake. Moreover, it gives no prior warning that it is reaching the end of its life. You simply arrive, get in, and nothing happens. Absolutely nothing. It is a good thing the trunk can still be accessed with a physical key... Even minor voltage drops in the main car battery lead to total chaos on board. The car thus becomes a trap for the owner and itself. I know what I am talking about...

Consequently, after starting the engine, the dashboard often unintentionally turns into a flashing disco, and error messages alternate like the Apostles on the Prague Astronomical Clock. The good news is that even though the trip computer reports numerous malfunctions, the vast majority of those systems still actually work.

In the center armrest, you will even find a built-in car phone, which was truly unprecedented in 2001. There is also an SOS button that, when pressed, connected you with roadside assistance. The onboard display offered navigation, though its graphics are amusing by today's standards. Most importantly, you needed the original CD for it to function correctly. Another common issue with these older cars is the snapping of the cables for the door handles or power windows. A situation where it is raining and you arrive at the car in the morning only to have to pull the glass up with your fingers is far from ideal. The same goes for pulling the door handle only to find that nothing happens.Lancia put a great deal of effort into promoting its flagship. In fact, the Thesis became the official state limousine used by the Italian President himself. Unfortunately, even that did not secure significant sales figures. Compared to its German competitors, it simply wasn't enough. Although the ingredients used were the best of the best, the final result was undermined by their lack of harmony.

The engine lineup was quite broad. You couldn't buy anything smaller than a five-cylinder—either the 2.4 Multijet diesel or petrol variants: a naturally aspirated 2.4-liter (125 kW) or the 2.0-liter 'Soft Turbo' (136 kW). These were paired with either a manual gearbox or an optional automatic. At the top of the pyramid sat the Alfa Romeo V6, initially as a 3.0-liter (158 kW) and later a 3.2-liter (169 kW). These were exclusively mated to the Aisin automatic transmission.

And that transmission is one of the car's biggest missteps. I fully understand that a five-meter luxury limousine deserves an automatic, but why didn't the factory offer a manual option for customers who wanted it? I have asked myself this question many times over the years of owning a Thesis. The answer is pragmatic: the 5-speed Aisin was chosen for spatial reasons, as it was more compact for packaging with the V6. When the Aisin was new, it worked fine. However, as the years go by, it is responsible for a large percentage of involuntarily sidelined cars. It is extremely sensitive to oil changes and prone to failing hydraulic valve bodies (solenoids). Even when it does work, it rarely performs in a way that makes you glad it's there. Engaging first gear involves a two-second delay followed by a violent jerk. It shifts with significant latency; you simply feel that it doesn't harmonize at all with the engine, which is otherwise brilliant. You have two ways to shift: either leave everything to the automatic or shift sequentially using the gear lever—but in the exact opposite direction of what is customary: upshifts forward, downshifts back. Once again, it's those little details...

Since we've touched on the engines, let's stay there. I must apologize to diesel fans, but I have no experience with the 2.4 Multijet, and to be honest, I never looked for it. For me personally, petrol is the only way to go. As mentioned, the choices were the naturally aspirated 2.4-liter five-cylinder, which neither excites nor offends, or the 2.0 Soft Turbo from Fiat's 'Pratola Serra' family. In my opinion, the latter is a good choice. The sound of a five-cylinder is unmistakable, though I think it suits the Fiat Coupe better. It's a pity it is a 'Soft' version; if it had the full 162 kW found in the Fiat Coupe 2.0 20V Turbo, it would be just right. Here, however, the power was intentionally reduced in favor of comfort and overall harmony with the large limousine. The advantage? A six-speed manual gearbox!

However, I still consider the legendary Alfa Romeo V6 to be the most suitable engine for the Thesis. This engine is a jewel. No matter what car you put it in, it provides 50% of the overall experience—sometimes more. And it fits perfectly here. I have years of experience with this engine in all displacements, from the 12-valve 2.5 to the 3.2 in the GTA, and I always feel it is like a chameleon. It has a slightly different character every time, but it's always great. This is the 2959cc engine known from, for example, the GTV V6 (see detailed separate test). Here, the car's weight has altered its character and delivery, but that doesn't matter at all. Quite the opposite. The engine runs like silk, and as soon as it pulls around 3,000 rpm, you immediately know it's there. It starts gaining revs and pulling hard. It's not a sharp, biting character, but rather a 'calm force' that doesn't let up and revs to its favorite 7,000 rpm. When I tell you it can do 180 km/h in 3rd gear, you will surely believe me that it has plenty of power. Furthermore, the sound insulation allows only distant echoes of its roar into the cabin. Once again, this engine is the best thing about the whole car.

Due to the car's weight and the automatic's gear ratios, the top speed is 234 km/h. German competitors can do more, but it isn't really necessary. The car doesn't goad you into it. But it gives you enough power to always overtake safely.

The chassis is a chapter in itself. Here, Lancia wanted not just to match the competition, but to surpass it. The front features a multilink setup with thin aluminum arms designed to eliminate vibrations and torque steer. The rear also utilizes a multi-link suspension. Over time, the arm bushings wear out, and the suspension begins to knock unpleasantly. The pinnacle of this effort was the implementation of electronic dampers from Maserati-Sachs, bearing the noble name 'Skyhook.' The principle was that sensors constantly evaluated body roll and wheel movement, adjusting the damper stiffness in milliseconds to ensure the smoothest possible ride. However, time and wear have turned them into a very expensive problem. Finding a car with over 150,000 km where the chassis works as it should and the arms aren't knocking is a rarity.

The last Thesis rolled off the production line in 2009, with total production failing to even reach 17,000 units. Several limited editions were created, such as the armored 'Protecta' and 'Blindata' models, the stretched 'Stola S85,' or the 'Centenario' version—released for the brand's 100th anniversary—featuring a red interior and 18-inch wire-spoke wheels. It is worth noting that, in a way, the 3.0 V6 is the rarest engine because it was in production for only 14 months (2002–2003) before being replaced by the 3.2-liter version.

With a bit of hyperbole, it could be said that the Lancia Thesis became a victim of its own quest for perfection, eventually consuming itself. Its chronic minor issues, which were nonetheless very expensive to repair, turned most examples into parts donors. The prices of used diesel versions hover at undignified figures of a few thousand Euros. Even 3.0 or 3.2 versions with under 150,000 km and in good condition are rarely offered for more than 10,000 Euros. Despite the list of shortcomings, however, this is a car that deserves attention. It has stayed at its price floor for an unusually long time, and its value appreciation is extremely slow. Nevertheless, I believe its time will come—at a point when only the remnants of its production remain in circulation. Among those, original-condition V6 and Turbo versions will become truly rare. Everything has its time, and for the Thesis, time moves very slowly. 

Foto: Filip Hron 2026