There is no faster growing category than the one many people call "crossovers". Of course, that makes sense, since this is the most loosely defined category out there. You say "pickup truck", people know what you're talking about. You say, "sports car", people know what you're talking about. But ask ten people (even amongst magazine writers) to define what a crossover is, and you're bound to get at least six different definitions. Not that we're the ultimate experts on the class, but there are some things to consider when we use this particular term.
To begin with, it's an automotive category born out of compromise. You can almost hear the designers talking to the engineers and marketers: "Not too much of this, not to much of that, and we need to make is look like something else that its really isn't."
I suppose it seemed simple enough in the beginning when every car magazine on the planet couldn't get enough pickup truck and SUV bashing because those vehicles didn't handle like the sports car they keep in their garage and occasionally take out to a local SCCA rally or Sunday twisty-road run. I've never responded well to critics that tend to judge vehicles for what they are not designed for, instead of judging them for what they were designed for. Again, it seems simple enough, but you'd be surprised how many smart people have criticized a perfectly good fullsize SUV for how it handles large and heavy and gets much worse fuel economy than something much smaller and lighter.
Getting back on point, crossovers were born out of a strong calling from the media and buying public to offer some type of middle ground between the capability-driven, ladder-frame engineered, pickup-truck derivative sport-utility vehicles and a smaller, more fun-to-drive sports sedan. It wasn't that long ago that the big and small SUVs were the darlings of the auto industry, making big profits for many car companies, selling like hotcakes. Imagine the sports-car-loving auto journalists at the big magazines who were sent to cover these lowly family-friendly multi-passenger off-road capable tow vehicles when what they'd really like to be doing is driving fast on a closed course in something with no ground clearance and a 20:1 power-to-weight ratio, preferably with the top down. If you've ever thought your 3-year-old was whiny, you've never had to spend a day with a truck-hating car guy. Not that I'm saying crossovers (that is what I started writing about) were purely born out of the whining and complaining of spoiled auto scribes?
I'm sure we would have gotten here eventually anyway, but I think getting SUVs (the name itself used to be considered a cross between a sport 4x4 and utilitarian pickup truck) to be more like cars was hustled along by many of my esteemed car-loving peers.
How do I define a crossover? Basically, anything that doesn't seem to do much well at all: can't tow, can't go off road, can't carry much load, and can't take much of a beating. It can't carry much weight because it has what amounts to a car chassis. It won't navigate serious terrain because of wimpy tires, not much ground clearance, and the absence of a real four-wheel drive system. And it won't tow much at all because of the four- or six-cylinder, fuel-economy-biased engine (usually transverse mounted like a minivan), and if it has a third row, you can bet that sloping roof line isn't going to give any passengers in the third row much headroom (or legroom).
With all that said, I will say I'm a strong believer in the giving the marketplace as many choices as possible, and we'll see if some clever company can make a crossover with enough function and ability to satisfy an owner who needs more than kid hauler. For now, though, it looks like most of the crossovers for sale are trying too hard not to look like a station wagon or minivan so the spouse isn't too embarrassed to drive it. We'll see.