The instrument panel is the part of the car that will face the guy who laid down the bucks for it 98% of the time he's anywhere near the car. If it's ugly, or worse, poorly designed or minimally useful, it's going to be right
there - a thorn in his side for as long as he owns it. Is it a deal breaker? No, but the instrument cluster is a serious aesthetic item for any car as well as being a diagnostic tool and a running reminder that what's going on just forward of your footwell is important and
worth monitoring. Psychologically, it's going to be center stage in your visual field, and it's going to have a big role in your
perception of the vehicle and will color your enjoyment of it. It's important
because of its location. Did you ever buy the cheapest model in a car's line only to be taunted by all those blanked holes in the dash where a whole collection of options you didn't buy stare back at you, mocking your choices (or lack of them)? That's the very description of frustration and incipient buyer's remorse.
Early in my driving career I owned a series of vehicles that were best described as intended for the taxicab market. Yes, they were cheap, but worse were all those little blanks confronting me every time I got in the car. I spent months hunting a factory radio for my '52 Dodge, not so much for the radio itself, but to plug four gaping holes in the dash that were covered by plastic plugs. I spent even more time hunting down a factory clock - not that I needed to know the time, but the plug that covered its space was a bright chromed pot-metal piece that was totally out of place. I eventually found a 1927 Chevy spring-wound clock that would fit - with a little modification, although the "self winding" feature periodically engaged a big 6V solenoid that "wound" the clock about a quarter turn every two or three hours. It sounded like someone dropped a steel 55 gallon oil drum every time it ran the little mainspring down and closed a large pair of contacts . . .
KA-CHUNGGGgggggg!! The dashboard would ring for about three seconds afterward. I lived with it, even though it would sneak up and scare me to death every now and then. I'd rather have the random noise than stare at the reminder of another option I
didn't buy every time I got behind the wheel.
In the '50's and '60's auto stylists went crazy trying to out-Buck Rogers the competition with zoomy "space age" instrument panels. Most were just odd, many didn't work too well, and some were absolutely unreadable. The Elgin cluster falls into the latter category. It's difficult to read, does not communicate well with the driver, and is a total waste of space in that critical area directly in front of the driver. There has never been an improvement on the old "needles and numbers" of the "steam gauge" instruments that read at a glance, both number, and trend.
It's so much worse when your instruments don't communicate well. A handful of "idiot lights" don't tell you anything about what's happening under the hood either - well other than that light coming on means you need to reach for your wallet . . . something you had no idea was going wrong just reached criticality up there, and it's
going to be expensive. Moving needles and stationary numbers communicate directly. You don't need to know that your engine temperature is 229 degrees - unless you know that it means that things are pretty warm up front and bear watching. Rapidly changing numbers don't indicate exactly what's happening - other than change. You need a
separate instrument to indicate the
trend of the readings, whether up or down, and over what period of time. That's just WAY to complicated.
I don't need much, but a voltmeter that will not only keep me informed as to the state of my battery, but will also tell me my accessory drive is running - the alternator is turning, as is the power steering pump and on some vehicles, the engine fan, the air conditioner compressor, are turning as well providing an early-warning of incipient failure. Your fuel gauge is important on a car that only carries a smidge over 7 gallons of fuel. High mileage can lull you into inattention to the presence of your local supply of pushwater. An oil pressure gauge will let you know not only that you have sufficient oil supply to the whirly-bits, but that it is consistent (not foaming) and give you an idea of how MUCH pressure is available rather than that there is SOME oil available in the system, long before a trail of blue smoke in the rear view informs you of the same. Your temperature gauge tells you with some precision what's going on down in the engine room. A creep of a few degrees may indicate problems like a water leak or bubbles in the coolant stream. It can indicate a stuck thermostat, and by its analog nature along with that of your oil pressure gauge, provide a reference to the overall health of your power plant at a glance.
There are several panels in the aftermarket that will allow you to display all kinds of geeky things, dwell time, injector pulse width, even time your quarter mile for you. announcing your shift points along the way. That gets to be a case of overkill very quickly and between figuring my best launch RPM, setting my GPS for my destination, my Pandora selection of entertainment, my next gas stop, a handy place to stop for lunch, and reminders for phone calls and appointments to be made today, I'm going to be plenty busy dividing time between my instruments and my windshield.