Why Fake Air Intakes Appear on Modern Cars

An in-depth look at fake air intakes on modern cars, explaining why manufacturers use decorative vents and how design, aerodynamics, and expectations shape them.

The idea of an air intake in car design has always felt honest. If there is an opening in the bodywork, it seems logical that it must cool something, guide airflow, or contribute to performance. Yet history shows that this assumption has never been entirely true—and it is even less so today.

One of the earliest documented examples of decorative, non-functional ventilation elements appeared in the late 1940s with Buick’s VentiPorts. These “ports” on the front fenders looked technical, almost mechanical, but they were not designed as a true cooling system. Their purpose was visual: to emphasize status, movement, and a sense of power. Over time, VentiPorts became a recognizable brand signature, reinforcing the idea that something can look functional without actually performing a technical role.

This duality became more common as automotive design evolved. By the late 1960s, cars such as the Ford Mustang Mach 1 were offered with factory-installed non-functional hood scoops, even though functional versions were available separately. By then, the very definition of a hood scoop already allowed for both interpretations—either feeding air into the engine bay or simply shaping the car’s character.

Ironically, advances in engineering helped push decorative solutions even further. Modern vehicles, especially electric cars, require fewer open intakes for cooling. Aerodynamics has become a priority, leading manufacturers to adopt systems like active grille shutters that open only when cooling is truly needed. Most of the time, these openings remain closed to reduce drag and improve efficiency. As real openings disappear, the expectation of a bold, technical-looking front end remains.

This is where design steps in. Decorative air intakes allow brands to preserve a sporty or aggressive appearance without compromising aerodynamics, packaging, or production costs. A similar logic can be seen elsewhere on the car, such as with fake exhaust outlets, where the real technical components are hidden for reasons of heat management, safety, and cost, while the exterior maintains a familiar visual language.

In recent years, however, the line between acceptable styling and misleading design has become increasingly sensitive. Today’s audience often evaluates cars not only by appearance but also by verifiable function. A recent controversy surrounding the Xiaomi SU7 Ultra illustrated this shift: a decorative element presented as functional led to public criticism and an official apology. The issue was not the imitation itself, but the gap between promise and reality.

At the same time, some manufacturers are beginning to reassess their approach. In the premium segment especially, there is a growing emphasis on visual honesty, where visible elements are expected to serve a real purpose—at least on flagship or performance models. This does not signal the end of decorative features, but it does suggest a move toward clearer communication with buyers.

The story of fake air intakes is not one of deception. It reflects changing technology, shifting expectations, and the evolving role of automotive design. Once used to visually express power and progress, these elements now sit at the intersection of engineering, marketing, and trust—and it is there that their future will be decided.