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Opinion: not everyone buying a Purosangue necessarily wants one

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Opinion: not everyone buying a Purosangue necessarily wants one | Top Gear

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Jethro reckons some of the £400k Not-An-SUV's buyers are only in it to keep Ferrari sweet...

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Opinion: not everyone buying a Purosangue necessarily wants one

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Jethro reckons some of the £400k Not-An-SUV's buyers are only in it to keep Ferrari sweet...

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Jethro reckons some of the £400k Not-An-SUV's buyers are only in it to keep Ferrari sweet...

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Opinion: not everyone buying a Purosangue necessarily wants one

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Opinion: not everyone buying a Purosangue necessarily wants one

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Opinion: not everyone buying a Purosangue necessarily wants one

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Jethro reckons some of the £400k Not-An-SUV's buyers are only in it to keep Ferrari sweet...

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“Don't call it an SUV.” That's what was said. On the press launch for the Ferrari Purosangue the generic ‘SUV’ descriptor was a dirty word. But right before our eyes was a large, 5dr, 4WD vehicle with a raised ride height. The Purosangue also has a 6.5-litre V12, which is cool. Some really trick semi-active suspension, too.

However, it’s designed to do SUV things in terms of practicality, it looks like a crossover or SUV and it’s just about the same size as a Lambo Urus. If it walks and quacks like a duck...

My take on the Purosangue was simple. It drives, at times, with spectacular agility and balance. It sounds fantastically expensive when the V12 is extended and it’s a pretty cool place to be. However, Ferrari’s new model seemed outrageously expensive compared to other SUVs that don’t like to be called SUVs, like the Urus or DBX 707; it didn’t actually feel that fast most of the time due to the weight and it seemed to undermine the very thing Ferrari’s success has been built upon.

Ferrari’s counterpoint was short and devastating. “The first two years of production are sold out.” Game over.

Yet, Ferrari doesn’t exist in the same world as other manufacturers. A car selling out doesn’t mean customers actually desire it. As soon as my review hit, I got several messages from people waiting for their Purosangue. Each message followed the same theme. “I don't get it. What's the point? I've ordered one because I want to get the hardcore 296 when it's launched.”

The Purosangue wasn't so much a choice to these people, but a circa £400,000 tax, levied to keep them in Ferrari's good books. That's raw, towering, unbelievable brand equity in action.

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Soon after I saw lots of social media posts by many of the same people taking delivery of their Purosangue. General consensus? Best. Car. Ever. The Purosangue had turned a corner. Won over even those a bit baffled as to its purpose in a world of Range Rovers and Audi RS6s. I was pleased because the engineers and test drivers at Ferrari are hugely talented and I know they worked their hearts out to make the Purosangue a great, um, definitely-not-SUV.

Recently, though, I found myself at a super posh car event and chatting to a loyal and prolific Ferrari owner. I wouldn’t presume to quote said owner, but suffice to say their real world Purosangue review was not positive. Moreover, it was claimed that many friends were also pretty keen to cut short their Purosangue ownership.

Not until they’d secured their next limited run Ferrari sports car, of course. This one encounter isn’t a huge data set. I get that. But it seemed consistent with those pre-delivery messages I’d received. I’m sure there are owners who love the Purosangue, but even so this complex picture is a lesson in looking beyond the headlines. Maybe a warning to the likes of McLaren and Lotus too.

An SUV – even one that isn’t an SUV – is not necessarily the path to a future paved with gold. Nobody else has Ferrari’s pure star power. And you know what that reputation was built on? Amazing supercars. Get those right and maybe, just maybe, you earn the right to sell a £400k SUV to people who don’t necessarily want one.

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“Don't call it an SUV.” That's what was said. On the press launch for the Ferrari Purosangue the generic ‘SUV’ descriptor was a dirty word. But right before our eyes was a large, 5dr, 4WD vehicle with a raised ride height. The Purosangue also has a 6.5-litre V12, which is cool. Some really trick semi-active suspension, too.

However, it’s designed to do SUV things in terms of practicality, it looks like a crossover or SUV and it’s just about the same size as a Lambo Urus. If it walks and quacks like a duck...

My take on the Purosangue was simple. It drives, at times, with spectacular agility and balance. It sounds fantastically expensive when the V12 is extended and it’s a pretty cool place to be. However, Ferrari’s new model seemed outrageously expensive compared to other SUVs that don’t like to be called SUVs, like the Urus or DBX 707; it didn’t actually feel that fast most of the time due to the weight and it seemed to undermine the very thing Ferrari’s success has been built upon.

Ferrari’s counterpoint was short and devastating. “The first two years of production are sold out.” Game over.

Yet, Ferrari doesn’t exist in the same world as other manufacturers. A car selling out doesn’t mean customers actually desire it. As soon as my review hit, I got several messages from people waiting for their Purosangue. Each message followed the same theme. “I don't get it. What's the point? I've ordered one because I want to get the hardcore 296 when it's launched.”

The Purosangue wasn't so much a choice to these people, but a circa £400,000 tax, levied to keep them in Ferrari's good books. That's raw, towering, unbelievable brand equity in action.

Soon after I saw lots of social media posts by many of the same people taking delivery of their Purosangue. General consensus? Best. Car. Ever. The Purosangue had turned a corner. Won over even those a bit baffled as to its purpose in a world of Range Rovers and Audi RS6s. I was pleased because the engineers and test drivers at Ferrari are hugely talented and I know they worked their hearts out to make the Purosangue a great, um, definitely-not-SUV.

Recently, though, I found myself at a super posh car event and chatting to a loyal and prolific Ferrari owner. I wouldn’t presume to quote said owner, but suffice to say their real world Purosangue review was not positive. Moreover, it was claimed that many friends were also pretty keen to cut short their Purosangue ownership.

Not until they’d secured their next limited run Ferrari sports car, of course. This one encounter isn’t a huge data set. I get that. But it seemed consistent with those pre-delivery messages I’d received. I’m sure there are owners who love the Purosangue, but even so this complex picture is a lesson in looking beyond the headlines. Maybe a warning to the likes of McLaren and Lotus too.

An SUV – even one that isn’t an SUV – is not necessarily the path to a future paved with gold. Nobody else has Ferrari’s pure star power. And you know what that reputation was built on? Amazing supercars. Get those right and maybe, just maybe, you earn the right to sell a £400k SUV to people who don’t necessarily want one.

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Jethro reckons some of the £400k Not-An-SUV's buyers are only in it to keep Ferrari sweet...