Mazda 6e review

Your first clear evidence of this being a different kind of Mazda is its start-up procedure. There isn’t one. Like Teslas, VW IDs and countless other EVs, you simply climb in, engage Drive and go. Then immediately curse its belligerent safety assists, the lane-keep in particular feeling far more foe than friend on a narrow British B-road.

Naturally it’s deactivated within the touchscreen, and naturally you’re admonished for your distracted gaze as you attempt to do so. Argh!

But the Mazda 6e is far from the sole offender in this regard and with its systems muted, it’s a fairly relaxed thing to potter around in. The throttle is smooth and the brake pedal long in its travel – possibly too long, as more than once we overshot T-junctions trying to find the right amount of stopping force. You'll get suss it out soon enough.

Its large 19in wheels thump around over lumps and bumps, and on rural roads there’s a boatiness to the 6e’s handling that kids you into thinking it’s more supple than it actually is. After a while you’ll notice the way the whole car (two tonnes of it, no less) constantly rocks and shifts beneath you, regardless of how smooth the road is. Like a child under 10, it's a proper fidget.

Blissfully quiet though. And that lower, slipperier shape compared to the dozens of electric crossovers saturating the market ensures that a full charge goes far. On a mostly motorway run – where EVs are in theory at their least efficient – we scored 3.2 mi/kWh, which equates to 250 miles of range in the warmer months. On less taxing (aka slower) roads, you could feasibly get that up to 300 miles.

Does it corner like my beloved MX-5?

Hate to break it to you, but... no. The steering is direct but numb, and there's little about how the 6e behaves that really encourages you to drive with any kind of verve. The driving position can be awkward, with too little steering extension to match the reclined, high-legged approach that suits it best. The seats are comfy and deeply padded, at least.

All that aside, the mass is split almost 50/50 and there’s latent balance to the 6e because of it. It tackles bends like Switzerland (entirely neutral – buh dum tsh) and in tighter turns the car pivots like it has four-wheel steering; you can even loosen the traction systems and indulge in a Miata-like exit from a wet roundabout if you’re so disposed. We're guessing you won't be.

There are four levels of regen, and you guessed it – they're painfully buried in the touchscreen. When we tried the voice control instead, it was clueless. Oh dear. The strongest setting is too eager on the motorway, so tweaking it as you go is definitely something you'll want to do. Double oh dear.

So in summary...?

The 6e has the bones of a good car, but surface-level ergonomic woes mean it never elevates itself beyond ‘decent’.

But kudos for its modest and reasonably linear acceleration; an EV that forgoes a fiery start from the blocks is quite welcome and leans nicely into the 6e's easy-going vibe.