Renault 4 vs Ford Puma Gen-E: which of these small e-crossovers is best?

Small electric cars - whatever happened to them? Wasn’t that long ago we had BMW i3s and all sorts scampering around, then suddenly... we didn’t. Vanished off the face of the earth, leaving only a trail of crudely sellotaped posters withering on street lamps across the country. ‘MISSING: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS E-UP? ANSWERS TO THE NAME OF TIDDLES, REWARD.’ There are precious few e-runabouts so our leaner, greener future is being shouldered by crossovers right now. Make it make sense.

Anyway. These two – the new Renault 4 and Ford Puma Gen-E – are the result of polar opposite strategies. One’s a ground-up effort on a bespoke platform from a brand that’s smashed its EVs out of the park lately, the other... is the Ford. Not to write the electric Puma off immediately, but Ford has treated the ICE-BEV switchover like a game of poker so far, and folded every single hand.

First came the Mustang Mach-E, which was rooted in the Focus, then we got the Explorer and Capri, which are VWs underneath – the Gen-E is essentially a reheated Fiesta (there are worse leftovers), another affordable car that’s kicked the bucket. The fear of commitment is palpable. Though there might be wisdom in Ford’s caution. Uptake has slowed and five years out from the 2030 combustion ban we’re in yet another taxpayer handout phase. Which doesn’t bode well.

Photography: Jonny Fleetwood

Renault is all in come what may. The Megane and Scenic E-Tech are both seriously good and the 5 – the 4’s baby brother – has swept all before it. Top Gear Car of the Year, European Car of the Year – watch it scoop the Ballon d’Or next. As the French brand goes through the motions with the Symbioz, Arkana and other dross we don’t care to mention, it’s clear where the development money has been spent.

And effort too. We could spend a week looking at the 4 and still need more time to take it all in. That’s not to say the design is a universal winner – it’s hard to unsee the Honda e resemblance at the front and Mini Countryman to the rear – but the detailing is magnificent. There are loads of amusing little touches throughout, and the lights and proportions play on the original 4 without being beholden to it. It’s contemporary and retro. Contetro? Yeah, no. Sorry.

You can’t say the same of the Puma. Already a bulbous and gawky looking thing to begin with, the only notable adaptations for the Gen-E are range-boosting alloys and that fill-in grille. Looks like a toad wearing PPE. We get the distinct impression that Ford has gone about this on the cheap, pressured into it by fleet emission targets that an accountant might call ‘inconsistent with profitability’. This platform wasn’t designed for battery tech, making this a bodge job.

But if anything could make superglue and gaffer tape work, it’s the Puma. It’s the nation’s most popular car, outselling everything else by a healthy margin. Think of those thousands of lease deals that could so easily slip from 3cyl turbo power into electric silence without so much as a murmur. Ssh. Say what you like about the rest of Ford’s game plan, but it knows its base will probably lap this up out of loyalty and sheer muscle memory.

Heck, they might not notice the difference on delivery day – some Puma-ness has survived despite it piling on a quarter of a tonne in the transition, and the thrummy augmented sound does a decent (if basic) 1.0 Fox impression for a layer of familiarity. The steering is taut and even though the extra heft has sucked some life out of the chassis, there’s a crispness to tight turns that feels alien in an EV. Or any small crossover for that matter.

The throttle picks up gently, but under full load there’s some torque steer, the brakes are friendly but you can’t fine tune the regen beyond an ‘L’ mode on the drive stalk, and the touchscreen activated one pedal mode is so abrupt it feels unfinished. But what’s really suffered is the ride. Gone is the Puma’s finesse over potholes and general sense of composure – the Gen-E is busy and rattly, especially at the lower speeds you’ll be doing in it 95 per cent of the time.

Hoo boy, the R4’s in a different league – it’s the Roger Federer of refinement. The ride is just sumptuous. Body control is plush, but there’s no apparent compromise in the way it soaks up bumps and jolts. Which it does brilliantly. The engineers have sprinkled secret sauce on the pseudo-MacPherson front and multi-link rear suspension, and for the greater good of society the recipe really ought to be made public knowledge. Come on Renault, if Tim Berners-Lee could make the internet free, you can do the same with this.

It underpins the whole experience. The R4 doesn’t need ‘the right road’, it’s just enjoyable, period. It’s not sporty – it won’t squat down long enough to generate the kind of grip that’ll tempt you to sling it round bends. But through corners it’s like – and this is going to sound a bit Alan Partridge – treacle spilling out of a jar. Highly viscous and immaculate. It’s sublime, one of the most sorted and comfortable ‘ordinary’ cars on sale. Aha!

Like the Gen-E it accelerates with purpose rather than vigour. The brake pedal is set up well for big stops, but grabby at gentler speeds. That’s the only real setup flaw, though you can work around it with the paddle operated regen. Steering feel is a notch behind the Ford, but accurate enough and well suited to the car. Wind noise kicks up on the motorway, although the R4 doesn’t suffer from the vibration and roar of the Puma.

The interiors follow a similar theme to the exterior design – attention and craft on one side, and making do on the other. As with the 5, Renault has gone big on detailing on the 4 and this top spec Iconic gets the full complement of bougie materials: recycled cloth and leather seats (which are ace, by the way), yellow stitching, synthetic leather on the dash... even the roof lining gets embossed squares. And the inevitable cost saving plastics? All below waist level. You might not like the end result, but you can’t deny the effort.

No doubt both will sell in buckets, but the Ford’s success will be inherited – the Renault’s will be hard earned

Ford meanwhile has done its best inside, which is the nice way of saying ‘Golly, this is sparse’. Here we’ve got the entry level Select, but mid and top grade cars only really add suede seats as far as materials go. Everything’s bolted together tightly and that white band of I Can’t Believe It’s Not Leather tries to lift the mood, but desirability is in short supply.

No matter, the Gen-E hits back with storage. Where the 4 makes do with teeny tiny door bins and an armrest box barely fit for a dormouse, Ford has remembered that people often travel with stuff. So there’s space for it. Everything is an order of magnitude more accommodating, and the elevated centre console generates handbag space that doesn’t exist in the Renault.

Travelling in the back? Thoughts and prayers. And that goes for both cars. The Gen-E is a smidge longer, but you’re reliant on the front seats in either being jacked up to unlock crucial foot room, though there’s no such remedy for elbows or shoulders. Both benches are pretty flat, though the floor in the Ford feels higher so your knees have to compensate that little bit more. Did you expect anything less from cars like this? Of course not. At least both have a double dose of USB-C life support to, er, distract from the pain.

Speaking of tech, Renault has followed Volvo down the path of integrating Google into the touchscreen (above base level) and it works wonderfully, especially if that’s what you’d use for navigation anyway. Its interface is beautifully realised, with crisp, colourful graphics that balance fun with not being a royal pain in the bum. An underrated trait, that. Plenty of switchgear about too, although the drive selector stalk needs a firm hand and has a habit of misbehaving. Usually in the middle of a three point turn.

The Gen-E grants more real estate to screenage, but while the resolution is razor sharp we found the bright white OS a bit, well, low rent to be honest. It’s yet another area where you get the sense Ford hasn’t tried to pull out all the stops. And who wants to put up with all that glare at night? The laggy screen is frequently a beat or three behind your finger, and the (otherwise very useful) public charging map takes ages to load. Though that could be blamed on the patchy 4G in our Essex beauty spot.

Prices for the 4 start from £25,495 with that new £1,500 electric car grant offering a chunky discount. It comes with 18in wheels, the 10.1in screen and a heat pump as standard, but mid spec Techno for two grand more is the sweet spot with the addition of Google, Arkamys sound system and wireless phone charger. That you only get heated seats in this £31k Iconic range topper (£29,495 with the discount) is a bit devious.

The Gen-E starts from £26,245 but gets the chunkier £3,750 government discount. It comes with 17s, a wireless charger, fabric seats, built-in Alexa and a rearview camera that doesn’t look like an 8-bit prototype (*cough* Renault). Little victories, eh? Premium is £2k on top and adds nicer upholstery, 18s, and 10 speaker B&O setup. The £30,545 (after the discount) Sound Edition introduces leather, upgrades the speakers again, and bundles the Winter pack housing the heated seats. Same trick as Renault, then. Tut tut.

Both cars offer one motor and battery option. The 4 gets a 52kWh cell for 247 miles of WLTP range, while the Gen-E harvests 233 miles from a 43kWh pack. Both looked good for those estimates on this 32°C test – ie the least challenging conditions possible. But previous experience (and the Puma’s lack of a heat pump) suggests the Renault will give you fewer headaches in the UK winter months of October to May.

So a thumping win for the R4. No doubt both will sell in buckets, but the Ford’s success will be inherited – the Renault’s will be hard-earned.