# data.attributes.title
Toyota Prius - long-term review - Report No:2

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Toyota Prius - long-term review - Report No:2 | Top Gear

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
It’s as though Toyota wanted to escape its minicab reputation. Job done!

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Toyota Prius - long-term review - Report No:2

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
It’s as though Toyota wanted to escape its minicab reputation. Job done!

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
It’s as though Toyota wanted to escape its minicab reputation. Job done!

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Toyota Prius - long-term review - Report No:2

# data.attributes.body.value
Word-association game anyone? Twenty years ago, say ‘Prius’ and the responses would’ve been ‘eco-warrior'. ‘DiCaprio.’ ‘Womble.’ In 2026, the answer is much more likely to be ‘Uber'.

Toyota won’t like this, but the official gov.uk stats back me up. In 2024, the most recent official figures counted 381,000 taxis on UK roads. Of these, 256,000 were PHVs, or private-hire vehicles. The difference (as any cabbie will tell you through gritted teeth) is taxis are allowed to roam the streets and be hailed for an impromptu job. PHVs must be pre-booked (mostly by apps) and can’t use taxi ranks to lurk outside stadiums and train stations with the meter glowing hot.

Anyway, guess how many of those quarter-million PHVs are Toyota Priuses. Five per cent? Maybe one in ten? Nope. The answer, according to the UK government, is a staggering 20 per cent. One in five private-hire cabs in Britain is a Prius.

It’s not even close. The next three most popular models: the Toyota Corolla, Skoda Octavia and Mercedes E-Class are all tied on a miserable six per cent share. The Prius owns this market.

Obviously this causes Toyota some discomfort. Because while it means second-hand values of Priuseses are strong, it doesn’t make them loved on the road. Let’s face it, private-hire cabs are rarely the most considerate beings to share the road with, suddenly jamming their brakes on with a cheery flash of the hazards when a patron decides they’d like to jump out because ‘anywhere here is fine thanks mate’.

I lived in south London for six years. Every time I was late to work because someone had driven the wrong way up a one-way street, got wedged in a width-restrictor or impaled their car atop a hydraulic bollard… it was a Prius. Every time.

So I wonder if – now the Corolla Touring Sports wagon exists to offer a practically shaped, economical solution to today’s minicabber, Toyota deliberately designed the new Prius to be a terrible Uber? In gov.uk style, let’s compile a dossier of evidence.

Firstly, it’s not spacious enough. The latest Prius is 50mm lower in the roofline than the old car, but it retains that classic teardrop profile in the name of aerodynamic slipperiness. Though weirdly, with a drag factor of 0.27 it’s not actually especially slippery.

Either way, the slopey roof means there is not enough headroom in the back. Anyone even approaching six foot tall is going to be rubbing their hair on the headlining. And because said headlining is light grey, it’s going to leave a stain.

According to gov.uk (which I am now addicted to checking for cast-iron data), the average UK male stands five feet ten inches tall. Course, we would say that. But even allowing for exaggeration, the Prius is cramped in the back.

It’s also small in the boot, which is no good if you’re requesting a PHV to go Christmas shopping, or to the airport, or perhaps even the council tip. Toyota quotes a 284-litre cargo capacity: almost 100 litres less than the old Prius plug-in hybrid.

Opt for the standard old hybrid Prius and you got a cavernous 457-litre boot even with the back seats in place. So the sleek newcomer is too small everywhere to be a cab.

I suppose it’s fast enough to get you to the airport on time now it’s got 220bhp on tap, but will any PHV-er buy one in the first place? Only 7.5 per cent of licensed taxis are hybrids, as cabbies cling onto their diesels. A much healthier 44 per cent of PHVs are hybrids, but full EVs are rapidly chomping into that share – it’s up ten times in the last four years.

Besides, the old Prius had a UK starting price of £23k. The new one, even with government grant, starts at £36k, because it’s now a plug-in with style. It’s going to take a very long time indeed for this Prius generation to become cost-effective taxi fodder.

But the big reason the Prius has truly handed the Uber-baton to the Corolla isn’t the powertrain or its price or the lack of headroom. It’s staring you right in the face.

How long would you last as a taxi driver if you had to shout hoarsely at every tipsy rider who’d booked you that the rear door handles are “up at the edge of the window! No, the top of the back window! No, on the side of the car, the rear window! Yes, it does have door handles! They’re just hidden little electric rubberised buttons! In the black triangle! Argh!”

If people can’t open the back door, they can’t ride in a taxi. Clever, Toyota. Very clever indeed.

# data.attributes.body.processed
Word-association game anyone? Twenty years ago, say ‘Prius’ and the responses would’ve been ‘eco-warrior'. ‘DiCaprio.’ ‘Womble.’ In 2026, the answer is much more likely to be ‘Uber'.

Toyota won’t like this, but the official gov.uk stats back me up. In 2024, the most recent official figures counted 381,000 taxis on UK roads. Of these, 256,000 were PHVs, or private-hire vehicles. The difference (as any cabbie will tell you through gritted teeth) is taxis are allowed to roam the streets and be hailed for an impromptu job. PHVs must be pre-booked (mostly by apps) and can’t use taxi ranks to lurk outside stadiums and train stations with the meter glowing hot.

Anyway, guess how many of those quarter-million PHVs are Toyota Priuses. Five per cent? Maybe one in ten? Nope. The answer, according to the UK government, is a staggering 20 per cent. One in five private-hire cabs in Britain is a Prius.

It’s not even close. The next three most popular models: the Toyota Corolla, Skoda Octavia and Mercedes E-Class are all tied on a miserable six per cent share. The Prius owns this market.

Obviously this causes Toyota some discomfort. Because while it means second-hand values of Priuseses are strong, it doesn’t make them loved on the road. Let’s face it, private-hire cabs are rarely the most considerate beings to share the road with, suddenly jamming their brakes on with a cheery flash of the hazards when a patron decides they’d like to jump out because ‘anywhere here is fine thanks mate’.

I lived in south London for six years. Every time I was late to work because someone had driven the wrong way up a one-way street, got wedged in a width-restrictor or impaled their car atop a hydraulic bollard… it was a Prius. Every time.

So I wonder if – now the Corolla Touring Sports wagon exists to offer a practically shaped, economical solution to today’s minicabber, Toyota deliberately designed the new Prius to be a terrible Uber? In gov.uk style, let’s compile a dossier of evidence.

Firstly, it’s not spacious enough. The latest Prius is 50mm lower in the roofline than the old car, but it retains that classic teardrop profile in the name of aerodynamic slipperiness. Though weirdly, with a drag factor of 0.27 it’s not actually especially slippery.

Either way, the slopey roof means there is not enough headroom in the back. Anyone even approaching six foot tall is going to be rubbing their hair on the headlining. And because said headlining is light grey, it’s going to leave a stain.

According to gov.uk (which I am now addicted to checking for cast-iron data), the average UK male stands five feet ten inches tall. Course, we would say that. But even allowing for exaggeration, the Prius is cramped in the back.

It’s also small in the boot, which is no good if you’re requesting a PHV to go Christmas shopping, or to the airport, or perhaps even the council tip. Toyota quotes a 284-litre cargo capacity: almost 100 litres less than the old Prius plug-in hybrid.

Opt for the standard old hybrid Prius and you got a cavernous 457-litre boot even with the back seats in place. So the sleek newcomer is too small everywhere to be a cab.

I suppose it’s fast enough to get you to the airport on time now it’s got 220bhp on tap, but will any PHV-er buy one in the first place? Only 7.5 per cent of licensed taxis are hybrids, as cabbies cling onto their diesels. A much healthier 44 per cent of PHVs are hybrids, but full EVs are rapidly chomping into that share – it’s up ten times in the last four years.

Besides, the old Prius had a UK starting price of £23k. The new one, even with government grant, starts at £36k, because it’s now a plug-in with style. It’s going to take a very long time indeed for this Prius generation to become cost-effective taxi fodder.

But the big reason the Prius has truly handed the Uber-baton to the Corolla isn’t the powertrain or its price or the lack of headroom. It’s staring you right in the face.

How long would you last as a taxi driver if you had to shout hoarsely at every tipsy rider who’d booked you that the rear door handles are “up at the edge of the window! No, the top of the back window! No, on the side of the car, the rear window! Yes, it does have door handles! They’re just hidden little electric rubberised buttons! In the black triangle! Argh!”

If people can’t open the back door, they can’t ride in a taxi. Clever, Toyota. Very clever indeed.

# data.attributes.field_car_headline
Why the new Toyota Prius will be a terrible Uber

# data.attributes.field_car_teaser_description
It’s as though Toyota wanted to escape its minicab reputation. Job done!

# data.attributes.field_sub_title
Why the new Toyota Prius will be a terrible Uber

# data.relationships.field_image.data.meta.alt
Toyota Prius - long-term review - Report 2