A New U.K. Race Car Boasts Zero to 60 in 1.4 Seconds. And You Can Buy One in the U.S. Next Year.

The fastest cars you can buy are all electric. Cars with zero-to-60 times under two seconds are the Rimac Nevera and its close relative the Pininfarina Battista, the Tesla Model S Plaid Edition, and the Lucid Air Sapphire.

Now, add one more: the British-made McMurtry Spéirling. At a Silverstone track event in December, Mat Watson of the YouTube channel Carwows drove the electric, rear-wheel drive Spéirling PURE model to 60 miles an hour in 1.4 seconds, with zero to 100 in 2.63 and a quarter mile in 7.97. The PURE is a racer in an edition of 100, but McMurtry said it will eventually be producing a street-legal version.

The price in the U.K. for the handmade PURE is £895,000, and in the U.S. around US$1 million. McMurtry Automotive was founded in 2016 and based in England’s posh Cotswolds region of Gloucestershire. Managing Director Thomas Yates comes from Formula 1, and the company’s focus is on race-bred technology. Testing, in secret, occurred in the U.K. at tracks such as Castle Combe and Donington Park. The first reveal to the public was at the Goodwood Festival of Speed in 2021, with racers Derek Bell and Alex Summers giving demonstration runs. The next year, the PURE set a hill climb record at Goodwood (going up in 39.08 seconds).

Miller Motorcars of Greenwich, Connecticut, which also handles Ferrari, Bugatti, Maserati, Rolls-Royce, and other luxury brands, announced it was taking on McMurtry in January. The record-breaking car was shown by its battery supplier at CES in Las Vegas earlier this month, but will also be making an appearance in Greenwich, with an open house Feb. 3. The West Coast dealer is O’Gara Motorsport, and the star car was in California at Thermal Raceway earlier this month for a demonstration.

The record-setting McMurtry Spéirling PURE on display at CES this year.
Jim Motavalli

Evan Cygler, director of special projects at Miller, tells Penta he was “completely dumbfounded” to encounter the rear-wheel drive McMurtry PURE in England. “They purposely came out with a finished car at Goodwood to break a record, and achieved the goal,” Cygler says. “The sound of it is incredible, as is the tiny size. We are passionate about our business, so we told them that if there was an opportunity to sell these cars, we’d love to be involved.”

Miller will support these track-only cars with its own track days at Connecticut’s Lime Rock Park, Cygler says. “It is less than two hours away and a fun place to host our customers for a day,” he says. “The Spéirling PURE is a cool weekend racer, and definitely something different. Whether you are into EV products or not, you have to love this.” Miller expects to get one or two PURE cars in 2025, he added. McMurtry will also host customers at private track events in the U.K.

The Spéirling reportedly offers 1,000 horsepower and 1,033 pound-feet of torque from two electric motors. Keeping it on the track are a pair of huge turbines (adapted from Formula 1 and Can Am) located behind the single occupant that extract air from under the car and produce more than 4,000 pounds of downforce. The battery is relatively small at 60 kilowatt-hours, but the carbon fiber-bodied car is so light at approximately 2,200 pounds that it has an estimated 300 miles of range (driven lightly, and on the forgiving European WLTP cycle). Top speed is around 200 mph.

The battery pack in the PURE prototype uses Molicel cells that can fast charge in 20 minutes, with rapid cell cooling. A charge can get the car around Silverstone track for 10 laps. Customer cars will use next-generation cells that are still in development.

The cockpit of the Spéirling PURE is a tight fit, and entry is made easier by a removable steering wheel. The single occupant sits on the rear fender and swings his or her body through the narrow opening, then drops into place. It’s a racer’s view forward, with no infotainment or anything else extraneous to ultra-high-speed driving. The Spéirling PURE may not be useful for getting groceries, but it offers the ultimate acceleration experience.

A wave of corporate warnings and technical disclosures has flooded the media, with headlines worrying over “swarms” of rogue artificial-intelligence agents launching “unprecedented” cyberattacks, outsmarting their makers, and inching toward a terrifying autonomy. The most revealing part of this narrative isn’t what the software did. It’s who is telling the story—and why. When corporate leaders publicly insist that the systems they financed, engineered and deployed are suddenly beyond their power to contain, skepticism isn’t only healthy; it is essential.

For years, Silicon Valley has drawn scrutiny from civil society and global regulators over tangible harms such as youth mental health deterioration and systematic privacy violations. Today, industry figures seem to be trying to change that public image. Loudly blowing the whistle on their own systems—just as two of the leading companies were preparing for massive initial public offerings—lets AI executives position themselves as a new generation of leaders who have come to terms with their societal responsibilities. They seem to want us to believe that they no longer want to “move fast and break things” but will instead stand as vigilant guardians between humanity and a technological apocalypse.

There is one glaring problem: Software doesn’t rebel. A mathematical model possesses neither intent, malice nor the will to defy its creators, let alone extinguish our species. AI is a human artifact, engineered for profit.

When an agentic model in an evaluation sandbox connects to an unauthorized server or executes an exploit, it hasn’t staged a coup. It has tried to meet the human-defined objectives set out before it through a path its designers failed to constrain. It’s the digital equivalent of the King Midas myth, in which the king’s ill-defined wish turns even his food and drink into gold.

That powerful experimental models were able to discover novel vulnerabilities and breach external systems isn’t a sign of a dangerous superintelligence but of human error or negligence. There is no sentient actor lurking in the weights to be reasoned with, feared or pacified. There are only human software engineers, product managers and corporate boards deciding which guardrails are worth the latency cost and which permissions can be skipped in the race to market.

Policymakers and voters need to resist AI exceptionalism. In any other discipline—from civil engineering to pharmaceuticals—courts and regulators treat a system failure as evidence of bad product design and inadequate safety testing. If an aircraft crashes, we focus on finding the engineering defect, correcting it, and enforcing established liability standards for the damage created.

By leaning on an anthropomorphic narrative, Silicon Valley attempts to repackage its specific human choices that led to experimental, powerful models behaving unexpectedly during tests as an existential peril. Elevating the issue to a cosmic scale leaves the public paralyzed and takes ordinary product accountability off the table.

In the cutthroat race for venture capital and market dominance, building guardrails slows down deployment. Grandstanding about uncontrollable power costs nothing and generates billions of dollars in free publicity, justifying stock prices, all while cultivating an aura of technological capability not only to build the frontier but also ultimately to rein it in.

Governments need to recognize regulatory capture when it stares them in the face. Tech leaders’ strategy looks transparent: Alarm Washington and Brussels into creating a regime in which only trillion-dollar incumbents with fully staffed compliance and safety departments can legally operate. By sitting at the policymakers’ tables before anyone else, these companies can help draft rules digging an impassable moat protecting them from open-source developers and upstart competitors, domestic or international. The real danger is in further concentrating the tech industry into the hands of only a few companies with deep pockets.

Beijing and Washington have brushed off those tech leaders’ calls, albeit for very different reasons. Chinese state media dismissed them as part of the “Cold War playbook” and intended to preserve U.S. dominance. Xi Jinping argued for exactly the opposite at the Brics Summit on Sept. 12, calling on Brics countries to “strengthen cooperation in the field of AI, encourage open source, openness, collaboration and sharing, and break new grounds and scale new heights.” President Trump, steeped in a doctrine of unfettered capitalism and technological supremacy, called fears that AI could destroy humanity a “hoax.” Vice President JD Vance warned that AI companies “begging the government to regulate them” looked like a “Trojan Horse.”

Striving to pursue its “European way” on AI and assert regulatory leadership, Europe, by contrast, welcomed the call. European Union President Ursula von der Leyen made this clear at the State of the EU speech last Wednesday and announced that the EU will invite “the main frontier labs for a discussion on how we can support ongoing industry efforts to pace the frontier.”

Europe has been here before. In an effort to lead global regulation and react to fears borne from ChatGPT, Europe rushed its landmark AI Act into law in 2024. Already the world’s most restrictive rulebook, the framework quickly proved too broad and complex to enforce. Stalled by implementation delays and concerns about European competitiveness, the EU postponed the law’s full rollout, leaving regulations uncertain.

AI should be regulated—risks exist and should be taken seriously. But governments need to act based on available evidence and verified facts, not corporate PR panic, the views of industry insiders, or the desire for quick political wins. The greatest danger facing society isn’t that software will awaken and overthrow its human masters. It is that we will allow the creators of the software to abdicate human responsibility for the systems they choose to build and help them pull up the ladder to market access behind them.

A New U.K. Race Car Boasts Zero to 60 in 1.4 Seconds. And You Can Buy One in the U.S. Next Year.

AI doesn’t rebel—people design, deploy and profit from it. The real danger lies in allowing tech companies to escape accountability while shaping regulations that protect their dominance.