You can measure car history in supercars and concept sketches. Or you can measure it in white vans parked outside every job that actually gets things done. On that scale, the Ford Transit is one of the most important vehicles ever built. In 2025 it turns sixty, and the strange thing is how little the basic idea has changed. Put the engine up front, a big box behind it, and let people use it for whatever their lives demand.
The Transit arrived in the mid nineteen sixties as a joint effort between Ford in Britain and Ford in Germany. Europe needed a modern light commercial that could carry more than the old Thames and Taunus vans yet still thread through tight city streets. The first Transits that rolled out of Langley in Berkshire looked almost American, with their stubby bonnet and wide stance. That stance was the magic trick. It let Ford offer a longer and wider load bay than most rivals, with multiple roof heights and wheelbases. Builders, plumbers and electricians suddenly had a van that felt designed around their work rather than adapted from a car.
Very quickly the Transit became part of the scenery. They hauled tools to sites that reshaped postwar Britain. They carried bands and their battered amps to nightclubs and festivals. They ran as minibuses for schools and as ambulances in cities and villages. Police loved them because you could throw a whole team in the back. Thieves loved them because, frankly, you could carry off almost anything. That mix of practicality and anonymity turned the Transit into the default choice for anyone who needed to move stuff without fuss.
Ford did not let the formula sit still. Through the seventies and eighties the Transit gained stronger engines, better brakes and more civilised cabins. Diesel options arrived for operators who watched every drop of fuel. By the nineties and two thousands, the van world split into two camps. There were Transits, and there were vans that were not Transits. Whole generations of drivers learnt to double declutch, judge width and reverse with just mirrors from behind a blue oval badge.
Underneath that loyalty, the van quietly evolved with the times. Safety regulations tightened, so the Transit picked up crumple zones, airbags and electronic stability control. Logistics changed, so Ford added side sliding doors on both sides, tailgates or barn doors and a dizzying menu of body styles from chassis cab to high roof jumbo. When the internet and home delivery exploded, the Transit was already there, ready made for parcel companies that needed a durable, easy to load box on wheels.
Now, at sixty, the Transit faces its biggest shift yet. Emissions rules and city clean air zones are forcing vans toward batteries and new fuels. Ford’s latest generations offer electric versions that swap diesel clatter for silent torque, along with always online connectivity so fleet managers can track routes, energy use and servicing. On paper, these new models are unrecognisable from the simple sixties van. In spirit they are the same tool, updated for a world that expects next day delivery and zero tailpipe emissions.
What makes the Transit anniversary worth celebrating is not nostalgia. It is rare for any vehicle to stay at the top of its game for six straight decades. The Transit managed it by sticking to a clear brief. Be tough. Be adaptable. Do not get precious about image. As long as there is work that needs doing and people who take pride in doing it, there will be a place on the road for a boxy van with a blue oval that just gets on with the job.
