# data.attributes.title
Audi A6 Sportback e-Tron - long-term review - Report No:3

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Audi A6 Sportback e-Tron - long-term review - Report No:3 | Top Gear

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
We pit our long-term e-tron against a diesel wagon. Easy victory, right? Well...

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Audi A6 Sportback e-Tron - long-term review - Report No:3

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
We pit our long-term e-tron against a diesel wagon. Easy victory, right? Well...

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
We pit our long-term e-tron against a diesel wagon. Easy victory, right? Well...

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Audi A6 Sportback e-Tron - long-term review - Report No:3

# data.attributes.body.value
In the 1990s, the term “Mondeo Man”  was coined after the then–future Prime Minister Tony Blair encountered a voter polishing his Ford Mondeo. He represented exactly the kind of swing voter Labour needed to win: traditionally working-class, once a loyal Labour supporter, but now a homeowner with an ex-council house and a car of his own. With memories of rising taxes and mortgage rates under previous governments, he questioned what Labour could now offer him. Some things, it seems, never change.

Over the decades, the original Mondeo Man grew more affluent, trading up to premium badges like BMW and Audi. Today, while no single model defines this demographic, the electric executive saloon is arguably its modern equivalent—a natural evolution in both status and sensibility.

But if you’re not quite ready to swap your trusty Mondeo for an EV (and fair play if it’s still going strong), Audi still has you covered with an A6 diesel. On the surface, these two cars may appear similar, yet beneath the skin they sit on entirely different platforms, even if they share elements of design philosophy and engineering ethos.

Which is why it felt only right to test them side by side. Alongside the saloon, I borrowed an Avant (mHEV+, Quattro)—partly for completeness, partly because a surprising number of people online have questioned my sanity for even considering a saloon. If I’m honest, I questioned it myself. We’ve always run estates, so this felt like a useful—and slightly rebellious—departure for the TG garage.

And yet, to my surprise, the differences weren’t as pronounced as expected. Yes, the Avant has a marginally deeper boot, but not by much, and thanks to the clever packaging of the e-tron, the traditional height advantage of an estate didn’t really materialise in day-to-day use. Call it a draw on practicality: Diesel 1, e-tron 1.

Aesthetically, though, it’s less of a contest. The Avant is simply the prettier thing—cleaner lines, no slightly awkward split-headlight arrangement—and with the S line kit, it carries a bit more presence and swagger. Or, to quote the harshest critics available, my children: “Can we take the other Audi? It looks so much better, Dad.” Hard to argue with that. Diesel 2, e-tron 1.

Inside, things become intriguingly familiar yet subtly different. As Garth Algar once put it in Wayne's World, “I mean, we're looking down on Wayne's basement. Only that's not Wayne's basement. Isn't that weird?” The layouts feel closely related at a glance but spend a little time in each and the distinctions in design, materials, and execution begin to reveal themselves.

The Diesel feels more aggressive—racier, even slightly claustrophobic—and with its chunkier steering wheel and busier layout, it borders on sensory overload. Mind you, it is nice having the extra screen instead of the rather lazy blanked panels in the e-tron. And yet, perhaps this says more about me than the cars: maybe I really am that modern Mondeo Man, because I find myself preferring the calm, understated ambience of the e-tron. Diesel 2, e-tron 2.

But what about the all-important numbers? The diesel manages 0–60 mph in around seven seconds, while the e-tron does it in an impressively brisk 5.4. No contest there. Diesel 2, e-tron 3.

Things tighten up when it comes to range, though. Over two weeks, I managed a frankly astonishing 500 miles from the diesel. Whatever dark art is going on inside that engine borders on witchcraft. It may not be exciting, but it’s a reminder that there’s still life left in the internal combustion engine.

The e-tron, by comparison, is less heroic. So far, the best I’ve managed is 300 miles—and that was on a particularly good day. In more realistic, everyday driving, it’s closer to 250. Perhaps the warmer months will give it a bit of a boost. For now, though: Diesel 3, e-tron 3.

So, which one would I buy to replace the Mondeo? Much to my own surprise, it’s the e-tron. It’s simply the nicer thing to drive—smoother, calmer, more resolved. The diesel, for all its strengths, felt a little unsettled and restless, not ideal on crappy British roads.

That said, if I could have one thing, it would be the diesel’s performance in a car that had the the e-tron’s smoothness and brow-relaxing ease. Now that really would be the perfect modern Mondeo Man machine.

# data.attributes.body.processed
In the 1990s, the term “Mondeo Man”  was coined after the then–future Prime Minister Tony Blair encountered a voter polishing his Ford Mondeo. He represented exactly the kind of swing voter Labour needed to win: traditionally working-class, once a loyal Labour supporter, but now a homeowner with an ex-council house and a car of his own. With memories of rising taxes and mortgage rates under previous governments, he questioned what Labour could now offer him. Some things, it seems, never change.

Over the decades, the original Mondeo Man grew more affluent, trading up to premium badges like BMW and Audi. Today, while no single model defines this demographic, the electric executive saloon is arguably its modern equivalent—a natural evolution in both status and sensibility.

But if you’re not quite ready to swap your trusty Mondeo for an EV (and fair play if it’s still going strong), Audi still has you covered with an A6 diesel. On the surface, these two cars may appear similar, yet beneath the skin they sit on entirely different platforms, even if they share elements of design philosophy and engineering ethos.

Which is why it felt only right to test them side by side. Alongside the saloon, I borrowed an Avant (mHEV+, Quattro)—partly for completeness, partly because a surprising number of people online have questioned my sanity for even considering a saloon. If I’m honest, I questioned it myself. We’ve always run estates, so this felt like a useful—and slightly rebellious—departure for the TG garage.

And yet, to my surprise, the differences weren’t as pronounced as expected. Yes, the Avant has a marginally deeper boot, but not by much, and thanks to the clever packaging of the e-tron, the traditional height advantage of an estate didn’t really materialise in day-to-day use. Call it a draw on practicality: Diesel 1, e-tron 1.

Aesthetically, though, it’s less of a contest. The Avant is simply the prettier thing—cleaner lines, no slightly awkward split-headlight arrangement—and with the S line kit, it carries a bit more presence and swagger. Or, to quote the harshest critics available, my children: “Can we take the other Audi? It looks so much better, Dad.” Hard to argue with that. Diesel 2, e-tron 1.

Inside, things become intriguingly familiar yet subtly different. As Garth Algar once put it in Wayne's World, “I mean, we're looking down on Wayne's basement. Only that's not Wayne's basement. Isn't that weird?” The layouts feel closely related at a glance but spend a little time in each and the distinctions in design, materials, and execution begin to reveal themselves.

The Diesel feels more aggressive—racier, even slightly claustrophobic—and with its chunkier steering wheel and busier layout, it borders on sensory overload. Mind you, it is nice having the extra screen instead of the rather lazy blanked panels in the e-tron. And yet, perhaps this says more about me than the cars: maybe I really am that modern Mondeo Man, because I find myself preferring the calm, understated ambience of the e-tron. Diesel 2, e-tron 2.

But what about the all-important numbers? The diesel manages 0–60 mph in around seven seconds, while the e-tron does it in an impressively brisk 5.4. No contest there. Diesel 2, e-tron 3.

Things tighten up when it comes to range, though. Over two weeks, I managed a frankly astonishing 500 miles from the diesel. Whatever dark art is going on inside that engine borders on witchcraft. It may not be exciting, but it’s a reminder that there’s still life left in the internal combustion engine.

The e-tron, by comparison, is less heroic. So far, the best I’ve managed is 300 miles—and that was on a particularly good day. In more realistic, everyday driving, it’s closer to 250. Perhaps the warmer months will give it a bit of a boost. For now, though: Diesel 3, e-tron 3.

So, which one would I buy to replace the Mondeo? Much to my own surprise, it’s the e-tron. It’s simply the nicer thing to drive—smoother, calmer, more resolved. The diesel, for all its strengths, felt a little unsettled and restless, not ideal on crappy British roads.

That said, if I could have one thing, it would be the diesel’s performance in a car that had the the e-tron’s smoothness and brow-relaxing ease. Now that really would be the perfect modern Mondeo Man machine.

# data.attributes.field_car_headline
Electric saloon vs diesel estate: which modern Audi is the better car?

# data.attributes.field_car_teaser_description
We pit our long-term e-tron against a diesel wagon. Easy victory, right? Well...

# data.attributes.field_sub_title
Electric saloon vs diesel estate: which modern Audi is the better car?