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Electrified super SUVs: Lotus Eletre R vs Porsche Cayenne Turbo e-Hybrid

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Electrified super SUVs: Lotus Eletre R vs Porsche Cayenne Turbo e-Hybrid | Top Gear

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Electrified super SUVs: Lotus Eletre R vs Porsche Cayenne Turbo e-Hybrid

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Electrified super SUVs: Lotus Eletre R vs Porsche Cayenne Turbo e-Hybrid

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Can't beat a WhatsApp message like that one. “Ollie, are you free next Thursday? Fastest Lotus versus Porsche grudge match in South Wales.” Count me in. I’ll have to unfurl the thermal cagoule because the weather will be howling, but I’ll happily cosplay as an oil rig worker for an ultimate Britain versus Germany sports car showdown.

Imagine my surprise. Abergavenny thinks it’s Andalusia and the cars dispatched to battle it out in the sun-scorched valleys boast back doors, big boots and a combined weight of five tonnes. And for once, Stuttgart is outgunned by Norfolk.

The Lotus Eletre R offers up 905bhp, so in the continued absence of the forever delayed Evija hypercar, this 5.1 metre banana is the most powerful Lotus of all time – apart from the mid-Eighties turbo F1 cars in time bomb quali spec.

Photography: Jonny Fleetwood

Against that, all the Porsche Cayenne Turbo e-Hybrid can muster is a measly 729bhp. For about five minutes this was the most powerful series production Porsche in history, until it was trumped by yet another walloping EV: the Taycan Turbo GT.

Two ways to make an unreasonably fast super SUV with a supposed eco conscience, then. The Lotus is of course entirely electric: twin motors, 727lb ft and capable of transporting a family of four from 0–62mph faster than any Lotus F1 car.

It's hardly novel to marvel at how EVs teleport down the road, but I genuinely believe if lawmakers were paying attention to the sort of performance being ladled out by these tanks, there’d be handwringing in the House of Commons and talk of a ban, or warnings like you find on cigarette packets. “Danger: booting a 900bhp lounge is harmful to your organs and those around you.”

Porsche has been fettling plug-in hybrids since 2014 and this flagship Cayenne is the latest and greatest. It replaces the old Turbo S and Turbo GT in Europe, which can’t be sold here on account of its last gen V8 falling foul of emissions legislation, hence the ‘GT package’ adding the pretentious winglets and carbon roof. The battery capacity has swelled from 14.1kWh to 25.9kWh without raising the humped boot floor, which in real terms means an uplift in electric range from 27 to 44 miles. And that’s not just the claim: it’s exactly what this test car managed.

But I don’t like using plug-in hybrids like that – pointless to slurp up all the e-range immediately only to lug a dead powertrain about all afternoon. So with a 95 per cent charge and a full tank promising 360 miles of combined range, I twiddled the drive mode knob from e-Power into Hybrid, and let the car’s computers decide when electric power was appropriate, and when to rely on the 591bhp 4.0-litre twin turbocharged V8.

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By the time the Cayenne had passed Birmingham on its way to Wales, 80 miles later, it’d trimmed five minutes from the satnav’s arrival time and managed an indicated 48.4mpg. That’s twice the economy we’re seeing from the Top Gear Garage’s combustion-only Cayenne S long termer – but predictably a galaxy away from the 157mpg dreamed up in the lab tests. When the legislation still allows plug-in hybrids such a massive loophole is it any wonder half the public is convinced electrified cars are a con?

The Lotus isn’t immune. Claimed range of 280 miles is more like 230 even on a summery day, and consumption of 2.0 miles per kWh is nowhere near good enough. Even Lotus itself reckons 2.2 is a best case scenario. For all of the design department’s claims of ‘porosity’ (aka it’s full of holes) reducing drag and helping this vast lozenge slip unnoticed through the air, the Eletre R isn’t going to excel (if you’ll forgive the Lotus pun) as a deluxe tourer.

And that’s a mighty shame, because what a cabin to travel in. Decadent and idea rich in a manner no Lotus has ever been, it’s a massive statement of intent from ‘New Lotus’ that makes the dark ’n’ suedey Cayenne feel about as welcoming as Turkmenistan. It’s neat and stays just the right side of overly minimalistic, but the Eletre boasts the more expensive, imaginative interior, festooned with delectable details. The knurled metal seat adjustment switches. The intricate speaker grilles that look like an inside-out jellyfish. The honeycomb dashboard top, with its 12in letterbox screens feeding useful information to the driver and passenger without deflecting gazes to the 15.1in centrepiece. It’s breathtaking.

Lotus’s Chinese bosses have recognised the target market the Eletre is aiming for – one which has never heard of an Elise or Esprit let alone simplifying or lightening... anything. Design accoutrement and titillation matter.

So they’ll also love the irritating ‘digital mirrors’ which make exactly the same mistake as the Audi Q8 e-tron, failing to offer adequate adjustment and hanging the camera where you’d expect to see the mirror. They won’t care that the steering wheel is too thick, wrongly shaped and its switchgear is fiddly – perhaps the only trait this car shares with a ‘traditional’ Lotus, in this case the Emira.

I’d expected the Eletre to win the wow factor contest but lose the common sense arm wrestle, but it’s not actually that annoying. You’ve got physical controls to raise or lower the cabin temperature, or silence it entirely. The drive selector isn’t hidden awkwardly behind the steering wheel like the Porsche’s, yet the console still manages to offer decent cupholders and generous stowage. Yes, the screen menus are daunting and the display brightness was all over the shop in our test car, dazzling one moment then too dim the next (much like the auto high beams), but it never glitched once. And I’ll give it the nod for being the first glass roofed car I’ve ever come across which effectively blocks heat when you ramp up the opacity.

You might think we did Lotus a solid by bringing along an old Porsche to fight the new order. Not so – this is the heavily revised in 2023 Cayenne – spot the angular headlights, full width rear lightsaber, and twin screen dashboard which your passenger will briefly smirk at before returning to their iPhone. The fit and finish is as stellar as you’d hope and all the features are here, but none of it’s delivered with any panache. Porsche doesn’t really ‘do’ surprise and delight, if that’s your bag. And having moved to a fully digital dashboard with no more classic Porsche clock faces, and swapping the twist toggle starter for a generic button, nostalgic fibres of Porsche DNA have been washed away.

What hasn’t is the Cayenne’s penchant for demolishing a road. When you finally uncork the Sport or Sport Plus modes (making sure to settle the suspension back from the stiffest setting) the Turbo e-Hybrid is mighty – a demented overgrown hot hatchback with the pace and fury of a winged 911.

It takes acclimatisation: the turn in is too eager thanks to overly energised rear wheel steering, keen to give this goliath an agility it doesn’t deserve. So dial down your inputs a little, and trust that when it does cleave into a corner, the body control is sorted enough to stay on an even keel. This brain rewire doesn’t take long, and the result is an absurdly exploitable fast car. The engine’s rampant, well worth revving out to 7,000rpm as the V8’s woofly rumble hardens into a thunderous, stampeding soundtrack. Try not to care that the engine’s now barely managing teens to the gallon and the battery is dumping an hour’s worth of charge time into every roundabout exit.

It’s not a superpower you’d uncork every journey – the experience is too alarming, as is the sheer heat radiating from the ceramic brakes after you’ve parked. Think of it like homing a retired police force German Shepherd. Most of the time it’s a cuddly faithful friend, but if someone gets in your face, it’d probably tear their arm off.

Ultimately, the Eletre R isn't as complete a performance SUV as the Cayenne Turbo

You stagger from the Cayenne resolute that no SUV could possibly be as rapid. And then the Eletre R blows your prejudice into an adjacent postcode. But immediately you’re aware it’s not managing the mass of its gargantuan body quite as deftly, and the carbon filleted 22in rims ‘thunk’ more into potholes and over drains. For an EV it retains phenomenal composure, but instead of leaning on the brakes and tyres as hard as I dared, I apologised to them. Lord knows what forces are being exerted upon this car’s consumables when you really clog it.

Perhaps the sense the Lotus is slightly more cumbersome than the Porsche is exacerbated by the usual EV drawback: you hear more of those clonks, clunks and thuds because there’s no soundtrack to muddle them. But the steering’s more measured, and at a relaxed pace it rides with real maturity. An Eletre has a fundamentally friendly gait that makes the R’s horsepower headlines seem futile.

After a few of us had blatted it along in Sport and Track mode then relaxed into the beautifully judged Tour setting, we agreed that it’s fruitless to waste time handwringing over what Colin Chapman would’ve thought of it. Of course it doesn’t drive ‘like a Lotus’. But if you told me it was a Chinese startup EV which had been sent to Hethel’s handling finishing school, I’d believe you. We all agreed we’d like this cabin and this chassis without 900bhp. Which you can have, for £30,000 less – gaining 100 miles of range – in the 600bhp Eletre ‘base’ model. Same old EV verdict: less [power] is more [range].

Yes, the boot floor’s too high to best use the 610-litre cargo bay, there’s not as much legroom as the car’s length might suggest and the pop-up rear wing blocks what little rear visibility the sloping tail allows even more effectively than the Porsche’s. Because obviously 2.5-tonne SUVs need a dollop of downforce to stop them taking flight on the B674.

But otherwise, this is a phenomenally strong proposition from Geely, sorry, Lotus. The rear wheel steering’s so wieldy in town it seemingly shrinks to something the size of a BMW X3. The only wind noise disturbance, ironically, seems to be generated by the vents tunnelling through the bonnet. Ultimately, the Eletre R isn’t as complete a performance SUV as the Cayenne Turbo, but the package it offers for £30,000 less up front is startling.

If you’re shopping for a toppy, bougie e-SUV, you need to have a look at this car. A Lotus in nothing but name – but like the Cayenne once upon a time – it’s an upstart the old guard can’t ignore.

# data.attributes.body.processed
Can't beat a WhatsApp message like that one. “Ollie, are you free next Thursday? Fastest Lotus versus Porsche grudge match in South Wales.” Count me in. I’ll have to unfurl the thermal cagoule because the weather will be howling, but I’ll happily cosplay as an oil rig worker for an ultimate Britain versus Germany sports car showdown.

Imagine my surprise. Abergavenny thinks it’s Andalusia and the cars dispatched to battle it out in the sun-scorched valleys boast back doors, big boots and a combined weight of five tonnes. And for once, Stuttgart is outgunned by Norfolk.

The Lotus Eletre R offers up 905bhp, so in the continued absence of the forever delayed Evija hypercar, this 5.1 metre banana is the most powerful Lotus of all time – apart from the mid-Eighties turbo F1 cars in time bomb quali spec.

Photography: Jonny Fleetwood

Against that, all the Porsche Cayenne Turbo e-Hybrid can muster is a measly 729bhp. For about five minutes this was the most powerful series production Porsche in history, until it was trumped by yet another walloping EV: the Taycan Turbo GT.

Two ways to make an unreasonably fast super SUV with a supposed eco conscience, then. The Lotus is of course entirely electric: twin motors, 727lb ft and capable of transporting a family of four from 0–62mph faster than any Lotus F1 car.

It's hardly novel to marvel at how EVs teleport down the road, but I genuinely believe if lawmakers were paying attention to the sort of performance being ladled out by these tanks, there’d be handwringing in the House of Commons and talk of a ban, or warnings like you find on cigarette packets. “Danger: booting a 900bhp lounge is harmful to your organs and those around you.”

Porsche has been fettling plug-in hybrids since 2014 and this flagship Cayenne is the latest and greatest. It replaces the old Turbo S and Turbo GT in Europe, which can’t be sold here on account of its last gen V8 falling foul of emissions legislation, hence the ‘GT package’ adding the pretentious winglets and carbon roof. The battery capacity has swelled from 14.1kWh to 25.9kWh without raising the humped boot floor, which in real terms means an uplift in electric range from 27 to 44 miles. And that’s not just the claim: it’s exactly what this test car managed.

But I don’t like using plug-in hybrids like that – pointless to slurp up all the e-range immediately only to lug a dead powertrain about all afternoon. So with a 95 per cent charge and a full tank promising 360 miles of combined range, I twiddled the drive mode knob from e-Power into Hybrid, and let the car’s computers decide when electric power was appropriate, and when to rely on the 591bhp 4.0-litre twin turbocharged V8.

By the time the Cayenne had passed Birmingham on its way to Wales, 80 miles later, it’d trimmed five minutes from the satnav’s arrival time and managed an indicated 48.4mpg. That’s twice the economy we’re seeing from the Top Gear Garage’s combustion-only Cayenne S long termer – but predictably a galaxy away from the 157mpg dreamed up in the lab tests. When the legislation still allows plug-in hybrids such a massive loophole is it any wonder half the public is convinced electrified cars are a con?

The Lotus isn’t immune. Claimed range of 280 miles is more like 230 even on a summery day, and consumption of 2.0 miles per kWh is nowhere near good enough. Even Lotus itself reckons 2.2 is a best case scenario. For all of the design department’s claims of ‘porosity’ (aka it’s full of holes) reducing drag and helping this vast lozenge slip unnoticed through the air, the Eletre R isn’t going to excel (if you’ll forgive the Lotus pun) as a deluxe tourer.

And that’s a mighty shame, because what a cabin to travel in. Decadent and idea rich in a manner no Lotus has ever been, it’s a massive statement of intent from ‘New Lotus’ that makes the dark ’n’ suedey Cayenne feel about as welcoming as Turkmenistan. It’s neat and stays just the right side of overly minimalistic, but the Eletre boasts the more expensive, imaginative interior, festooned with delectable details. The knurled metal seat adjustment switches. The intricate speaker grilles that look like an inside-out jellyfish. The honeycomb dashboard top, with its 12in letterbox screens feeding useful information to the driver and passenger without deflecting gazes to the 15.1in centrepiece. It’s breathtaking.

Lotus’s Chinese bosses have recognised the target market the Eletre is aiming for – one which has never heard of an Elise or Esprit let alone simplifying or lightening... anything. Design accoutrement and titillation matter.

So they’ll also love the irritating ‘digital mirrors’ which make exactly the same mistake as the Audi Q8 e-tron, failing to offer adequate adjustment and hanging the camera where you’d expect to see the mirror. They won’t care that the steering wheel is too thick, wrongly shaped and its switchgear is fiddly – perhaps the only trait this car shares with a ‘traditional’ Lotus, in this case the Emira.

I’d expected the Eletre to win the wow factor contest but lose the common sense arm wrestle, but it’s not actually that annoying. You’ve got physical controls to raise or lower the cabin temperature, or silence it entirely. The drive selector isn’t hidden awkwardly behind the steering wheel like the Porsche’s, yet the console still manages to offer decent cupholders and generous stowage. Yes, the screen menus are daunting and the display brightness was all over the shop in our test car, dazzling one moment then too dim the next (much like the auto high beams), but it never glitched once. And I’ll give it the nod for being the first glass roofed car I’ve ever come across which effectively blocks heat when you ramp up the opacity.

You might think we did Lotus a solid by bringing along an old Porsche to fight the new order. Not so – this is the heavily revised in 2023 Cayenne – spot the angular headlights, full width rear lightsaber, and twin screen dashboard which your passenger will briefly smirk at before returning to their iPhone. The fit and finish is as stellar as you’d hope and all the features are here, but none of it’s delivered with any panache. Porsche doesn’t really ‘do’ surprise and delight, if that’s your bag. And having moved to a fully digital dashboard with no more classic Porsche clock faces, and swapping the twist toggle starter for a generic button, nostalgic fibres of Porsche DNA have been washed away.

What hasn’t is the Cayenne’s penchant for demolishing a road. When you finally uncork the Sport or Sport Plus modes (making sure to settle the suspension back from the stiffest setting) the Turbo e-Hybrid is mighty – a demented overgrown hot hatchback with the pace and fury of a winged 911.

It takes acclimatisation: the turn in is too eager thanks to overly energised rear wheel steering, keen to give this goliath an agility it doesn’t deserve. So dial down your inputs a little, and trust that when it does cleave into a corner, the body control is sorted enough to stay on an even keel. This brain rewire doesn’t take long, and the result is an absurdly exploitable fast car. The engine’s rampant, well worth revving out to 7,000rpm as the V8’s woofly rumble hardens into a thunderous, stampeding soundtrack. Try not to care that the engine’s now barely managing teens to the gallon and the battery is dumping an hour’s worth of charge time into every roundabout exit.

It’s not a superpower you’d uncork every journey – the experience is too alarming, as is the sheer heat radiating from the ceramic brakes after you’ve parked. Think of it like homing a retired police force German Shepherd. Most of the time it’s a cuddly faithful friend, but if someone gets in your face, it’d probably tear their arm off.

Ultimately, the Eletre R isn't as complete a performance SUV as the Cayenne Turbo

You stagger from the Cayenne resolute that no SUV could possibly be as rapid. And then the Eletre R blows your prejudice into an adjacent postcode. But immediately you’re aware it’s not managing the mass of its gargantuan body quite as deftly, and the carbon filleted 22in rims ‘thunk’ more into potholes and over drains. For an EV it retains phenomenal composure, but instead of leaning on the brakes and tyres as hard as I dared, I apologised to them. Lord knows what forces are being exerted upon this car’s consumables when you really clog it.

Perhaps the sense the Lotus is slightly more cumbersome than the Porsche is exacerbated by the usual EV drawback: you hear more of those clonks, clunks and thuds because there’s no soundtrack to muddle them. But the steering’s more measured, and at a relaxed pace it rides with real maturity. An Eletre has a fundamentally friendly gait that makes the R’s horsepower headlines seem futile.

After a few of us had blatted it along in Sport and Track mode then relaxed into the beautifully judged Tour setting, we agreed that it’s fruitless to waste time handwringing over what Colin Chapman would’ve thought of it. Of course it doesn’t drive ‘like a Lotus’. But if you told me it was a Chinese startup EV which had been sent to Hethel’s handling finishing school, I’d believe you. We all agreed we’d like this cabin and this chassis without 900bhp. Which you can have, for £30,000 less – gaining 100 miles of range – in the 600bhp Eletre ‘base’ model. Same old EV verdict: less [power] is more [range].

Yes, the boot floor’s too high to best use the 610-litre cargo bay, there’s not as much legroom as the car’s length might suggest and the pop-up rear wing blocks what little rear visibility the sloping tail allows even more effectively than the Porsche’s. Because obviously 2.5-tonne SUVs need a dollop of downforce to stop them taking flight on the B674.

But otherwise, this is a phenomenally strong proposition from Geely, sorry, Lotus. The rear wheel steering’s so wieldy in town it seemingly shrinks to something the size of a BMW X3. The only wind noise disturbance, ironically, seems to be generated by the vents tunnelling through the bonnet. Ultimately, the Eletre R isn’t as complete a performance SUV as the Cayenne Turbo, but the package it offers for £30,000 less up front is startling.

If you’re shopping for a toppy, bougie e-SUV, you need to have a look at this car. A Lotus in nothing but name – but like the Cayenne once upon a time – it’s an upstart the old guard can’t ignore.

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Remember when Porsche’s pivot to super SUVs was a controversial play? Now ex-lightweighter Lotus wants a piece of the action...

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Lotus Eletre R / Porsche Cayenne Tyrbo e-hybrid 

# data.relationships.field_big_read_header_image.data.meta.alt
Lotus Eletre R / Porsche Cayenne Tyrbo e-hybrid 

# data.relationships.field_big_read_header_image_sm.data.meta.alt
Lotus Eletre R / Porsche Cayenne Tyrbo e-hybrid 

# data.relationships.field_image.data.meta.alt
Lotus Eletre R / Porsche Cayenne Tyrbo e-hybrid 