Honda Civic eHEV review

Your heart sinks when you see the eHEV-branded powerplant is only available with a continuously variable transmission, and expect the usual valve-rattling revs but little in the way of forward thrust. There’s no longer a version of the general-use, non-sporty Civic that comes with a manual gearbox, which is a pity for geeks as Honda’s manuals are usually rather good. But for most folks, this will be a doddle to get along with.

Aren’t CVTs all mooing nonsense?

Honda’s messed up by labelling this a ‘CVT’, because the negative connotations don't necessarily apply here. Instead of using belts to vary the torque the electric motor and tech wizardry perform the function themselves, the electric motor driving the wheels and the petrol engine used as a generator when the small lithium-ion battery runs out of juice. On low throttle around town, it’ll very often act as a full EV.

Why isn’t it a plug-in hybrid?

Honda says it believes this hybrid approach is more ecological than a plug-in which owners may not always charge. The 1kWh battery weighs only 36kg, but in our test drive the Civic wanted to be in EV mode a lot of the time. Apparently a key target in developing the electric side of things was to avoid battery degradation over time, so a used hybrid Civic will still boast this e-driving boon in years to come.

Oh, and the CVT problem? Forget it. It drives like a really fine automatic: smooth, responsive, obedient. And frugal too – we easily managed 55mpg on a mixed route, and Honda's official claim of 56.5mpg seems eminently achievable. When the engine does kick in, it doesn’t feel laboured or overworked, because the e-motor is doing most of the legwork.

This means the Civic is more refined than you’d expect. You even get a semi-VTEC rasp if you put it into Sport mode, as 0.0001 per cent of owners are likely to. The sound insulation and hybrid tech does make it sound like a motorbike is trying to rush up your inside, mind.

Honda claims an overall power output of 181bhp, and 0–62mph in 7.9 seconds, and says the new hybrid set-up combines the best of its previous engines. More performance than the old 1.5 and better fuel consumption than the old 1.0 3cyl. Does it really do the job of replacing every previous engine with one? We’d say so. 

Any good to drive?

The handover from full electric is seamless, and the brakes aren’t as corrupted by regen demands as, say, a Toyota Corolla. It’s far from a driver’s car, but somehow, the driver hasn’t been totally written out of the script. Honda’s stiffened up the steering mounts, taken friction out of the suspension for a more languid ride and says even the 10mm lower centre of gravity helps this Civic be 'the driver’s hybrid'. Sure, that’s like being ‘the tastiest gluten-free bread’ but we appreciate the effort.

Handling is Leon-like: it's planted and stable but stops short of sporty. Arrive at a corner with gusto and as you’d expect and hope, the front grips tenaciously then slips steadily into understeer. There's minimal torque steer too, the computer wizardry tidying things up as soon as the front wheels start to get overwhelmed. It proved a solid, predictable base for the Type R department to work with, and worlds more plush than the ‘spaceship’ Civic of a few generations ago, with its hollow, cheap-feeling torsion bar ride.

So it's no Prelude in disguise?

Not quite. The Civic eHEV's coupe spin-off gets proper, Civic Type R chassis components, as well as a faux-manual gearshift system to further engage drivers. It's not actually night-and-day different to drive than its humbler hybrid hatch sibling - but we'd have loved Honda to at least sneak in those virtual gearchanges with the Civic's facelift. You can read a full Honda Prelude review here, by the way.

Refinement is the true calling card here. Wind noise is minimal – we only noticed rustling around the mirrors and B-pillar at top-end UK motorway speeds. Engine noise is well contained too, but a fair bit of road and tyre noise does permeate into the cabin. Overall, the way the Civic drives suits the car’s more grown-up demeanour, reinforced by a cabin fashioned from smarter materials and now blessed with graphics that don’t look like Windows 98 rejects. 

Just be wary of its speed limit bong which we couldn't, in several days of driving, figure out how to deactivate. If ever there were a clue this is no performance-minded car, it's arguably that. The fuel tank's pretty small at 40 litres, too, ensuring its strong fuel economy potential begins to feel rather essential on longer hauls.