A Rare, Historic Porsche Racer Leads RM Sotheby’s New German Sale

The 24-year-old actor James Dean died in a car accident, colliding with a college student at a California intersection on the evening of Sept. 30, 1955. The car he was driving was a Porsche, but not an ordinary 356. It was a very streamlined 550 Spyder, nicknamed “Little Bastard” by the race-crazy Dean.

The 550 Spyder was an out-and-out racer, but the kind that owners could register and drive to and from the track in those days. The open-topped Porsche was made for only three years, from 1953 to 1956, and although they were very successful in competition, only 90 were produced. The mid-mounted “Carrera” engine in the 550 had four overhead camshafts and dual ignition. With twin Solex carburetors, it produced 110 horsepower. That wasn’t a lot, but the 550 Spyder was a very light car, just 590 kilograms (1,300 pounds).

An example of the 550 Spyder, from 1955 with colourful racing history, is one of the cars that will be sold by RM Sotheby’s in an auction by Lake Tegernsee, about 40 minutes south of Munich, on July 27. Also on the block is a pair of modern Bugattis, a rare Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren Stirling Moss, and a 2006 Porsche Carrera GT. The auction is taking place in partnership with the new Concours of Elegance Germany in Bavaria, held July 22-27.

The only one: This 2010 Bugatti Veyron 16-4 Grand Sport “Soleil de Nuit” to be auctioned by RM Sotheby’s was built for the royal family of Kuwait.
RM Sotheby’s

This Porsche 550 Spyder, with coachwork by Wendler (which also had its hand in the 718 sport racing cars), was delivered to Portugal and competed in European racing circuits. Originally white with burgundy accents, the car was first owned by Fernando Mascarenhas, who achieved class podium positions in races at Barajas and Monsanto in 1955. The 550 then went to Germany that summer for the Nürburgring 500 Kilometers, but the race was cut short because of an accident.

The second owner was Cypriano Flores in 1958. Flores’ son eventually returned the car to Porsche, which did the mechanical work while Wendler restored the body.

Despite the racing, which often results in swapped engines and other components, the 550 still boasts its original chassis, four-cam Carrera motor, and gearbox. The car was restored by Porsche and its original coachbuilder, Wendler, in the early 1990s—and not driven since then. During the restoration, the car’s colour was changed to silver, and the interior from beige vinyl to black leather. The pre-auction estimate is €3.5 million to €4.2 million (US$3.78 million to US$4.54 million).

Also to be auctioned at Tegernsee is the aforementioned 2010 Mercedes SLR McLaren Stirling Moss, a virtually unused example with just 45 kilometres on the odometer. First shown in 2009, it was a tribute to the late racing driver’s win in a 300 SLR Mercedes at the 1955 Mille Miglia.

The auction SLR features a lightweight carbon-fibre structure and a supercharged, 5.4-litre V8 with 641 horsepower. A mere 75 Stirling Moss cars were built, and only offered to customers who already owned an SLR McLaren. Without a roof or windshield, the Moss edition was 200 kilograms lighter than the standard car. It could reach 62 miles per hour in 3.5 seconds. The pre-sale estimate is €3.2 million to €3.8 million.

The modern Bugattis include a 2019 Chiron Sport “110 Ans Bugatti” edition, one of 20. The odometer reads only 1,461 kilometres. It’s estimated at €3.3 million to €3.8 million. The other one is the 2010 Veyron 16.4 Grand Sport “Soleil de Nuit,” a one-off Veyron in two-tone black/blue metallic sold new to the royal family of Kuwait. The estimate is €1.5 million to €2 million.

The 2006 Porsche Carrera GT, one of just 1,270 of these race-derived high-performance cars, is also a low-mileage example in silver metallic with 35,698 kilometres showing. It’s powered by a 5.7-litre V10 engine and could reach 62 miles per hour in 3.57 seconds and had a top speed of 205 mph. This one was supplied to Porsche in Leipzig, and a succession of owners barely used it. In 2001, the Porsche benefitted from a major €27,000 service that included a clutch replacement. It’s estimated at €975,000 to €1.275 million.

Porsche collectors might also want to visit the Bonhams|Cars Quail auction during Monterey Car Week starting Aug. 16. The lots include a one-of-62 1971 Porsche 911 S/T (estimated between US$900,000 and US$1.2 million); and a 1993 959 “Komfort” model, one of six, estimated at US$1.5 million to US$2 million.

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 Rare, Historic Porsche Racer Leads RM Sotheby’s New German Sale

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.