Reading about Justice David Souter's retirement, one detail jumped out at me: He drives a Volkswagen Passat. I was immediately reminded of a story that came out a few months back, revealing that many members of the government's auto task force drive imports. That in itself wasn't terribly surprising—lots of Americans (duh) drive imports.

What struck me was the kinds of cars they drive. OK, Souter is a low-key guy who, according to legend, lived a solitary, tech-free existence in New Hampshire before ascending to the high court. The Passat is an innocuous sedan. Makes sense. But White House economic adviser Larry Summers owns a 1995 Mazda Protege, one of the blandest cars ever produced. Other task-forcers own Volvos, Subarus, and, disturbingly, a Chevy Cavalier. There's one sort-of performance car in there, a Mini Cooper, but it's six years old.

Yes, these people never drive themselves, so they don't need fancy new wheels. But of course, it seems that almost no one in Washington really knew anything about the auto business before Detroit started to melt down last year. I'm not sure if the auto task force is a good sample—maybe too many economists and policy wonks in there—but you'd think there might be an enthusiast or two inside the Beltway. Someplace. I don't expect anyone to be able to discourse on the tragic demise of Formula 1 driver Ayrton Senna or delve into the finer points understeer vs. oversteer, but we might be getting a bit too far from what it means to be Americans if our jurists, politicians, and bureaucrats have completely sacrificed the thrill of the drive. After all, one of the reasons we're bailing out Detroit is because America is supposed to love cars.