Let us now ponder the Infiniti question.

Matthew DeBord/Insider

Nissan's luxury brand arrived in 1989, at about the same time as Toyota's Lexus and a few years after Honda's Acura. In the US, this wave of neo-luxe from the Japanese carmakers meant that GM's Cadillac and Ford's Lincoln brands were going to see some additional competition — something they'd already confronted with Mercedes-Benz, BMW, Audi, and to a lesser degree, Porsche.

To attract customers, the premise was straightforward: the Japanese had proven that it could deliver impressive quality and reliability — so why not give consumers something snazzier to buy? You liked your Nissan (and before it, your Datsun, the name the carmaker used in the US until the mid-1980s). So don't step up to a Mercedes or BMW. Choose Infiniti.

Three decades later, Infiniti is still in the game. But as far as the luxury market goes, a hierarchy has developed. Cadillac and Lincoln were displaced by Mercedes, BMW, and Lexus, with Toyota's effort the only really stunning success from that late-1980s period of innovation. Cadillac and Lincoln have been in semi-permanent revival mode, with their fortunes tied to their large SUVs.

And Acura and Infiniti have formed a sort of second tier, a cut above Buick, but with pressure coming from Genesis, Hyundai's upstart luxury entrant. With US market share in both the mass-market and the premium realm more-or-less fixed, this has led Infiniti in particular to occupy luxury limbo.

This is the calculus and running commentary that shuttles through my brain whenever I slip behind the wheel of an Infiniti. The question for me, then, is does the management-consulting problem supplant the vehicles themselves?

When it comes to an ostensibly exciting car such as the Q50 Red Sport 400, I regrettably have to answer, "Yes."