I don't know.
The interstate system was built post-war in the '50s and '60s. The large, floaty transportation rigs of the era are almost perfectly suited for suburban living and car travel over long distances. MGs and the like (Porsche's of the era included) were not well suited for these roads.
We've got good sporting roads in some isolated places, but this isn't how 99% of the country uses their cars. Even our motorsports reflect this. In Europe, it was F1. In the US, it was the Indy 500 and a drag-strip in every town. They developed the 911. We developed the big-block Corvette.
We still all want to get across 2 time-zones in one day, and still get to the Holidome by dinner time. In Europe, "sporting" cars were meant to cut up the Stelvio Pass. In the US, "sports cars" were meant to pummel the next guy into submission in a race between the lights. European cars of the 50s and 60s were fragile little toys. A SBC would go 100k mi before it needed a valve-job, some rings, and a pat on the head as it headed out the door for another 100k mi.
In '74, the government got in the business of telling the market what it was that we wanted. Impact bumpers, fuel economy standards, etc. pushed manufacturers into spending engineering resources in unprofitable places they hadn't before. Japanese cars were very well suited for this new climate, and American cars were not. There were some bad cars indeed-- mostly decent cars choked off with EGRs, catalytic converters, and 5 mph impact bumpers. The low-water mark at GM were the V8 diesels of the '80s-- cars that nobody was asking for, meant to circumvent a lot of emissions and economy regs.
Cars are an order of magnitude better than they were then, but what people want to buy hasn't changed all that much. Now it's cross-over SUVs-- which I hate, but which make a lot of sense. The roads are terrible, and something with long suspension travel, and the ability to ride higher and see further insulates the occupants from the mess that is modern travel. What better way to sit in stop-n-go traffic on the morning commute than in a high-riding, cushy cocoon with massaging seats and a heated steering wheel? It's like a long-travel 1972 Cadillac DeVille, which lends the illusion of being rough-'n-ready to guys who get manicures and carry man-purses, and badly need their ride to reaffirm their masculinity.
I love my fake speedster, but I'm aware that it's a terrible excuse for a real car. It's not ever going to be on the Stelvio Pass, and it spends a lot of time cruising up the interstate, getting to some vague approximation of a sporting road. It's not ever going to challenge a Hellcat at the stoplights, and it's horribly dangerous.
I care not, but I'm weird that way.