Peugeot is in focus at the credible end of the hot hatch segment, and we put it to the test against its rival from Ford.
The new 308 GTi aims to make Peugeot the headline act on the hot hatch stage, but the Ford Focus ST, the driver’s favourite, stands in its way
In 1987, the Peugeot 309 GTi developed 130hp from its 1.9-litre petrol engine. Cut to 2015 and the new 308 GTi, its maker’s latest attempt to re-enter the credible end of the hot hatch segment popularised by the Volkswagen Golf GTI, produces 270hp from an even smaller four-pot unit. The Ford Focus ST we’ve chosen to test it against develops 275hp. That’s a massive 166hp more than the Escort XR3i that Ford was pushing to buyers in 1982.
Stand back from that inexorable rise to consider it for a moment and the naked grunt being dangled before us by mainstream manufacturers is ridiculously substantial.
And don’t forget, neither is intended to live at the top of the range (an R and RS version respectively are waiting in the wings). Both, instead, are still meant to do what the 309 and XR3i were built for in the 1980s — namely, stick it to the copper-bottomed reputation of the Golf GTI. Peugeot has hardly made a secret of its intention to beat the Golf at its own game.
The 308 GTi may be capable of 0-100kph in 6.0sec, but the manufacturer has balanced hard facts with cuddlier subjective terms like usability, comfort and subtlety.
The exterior, then, even on extravagant alloy wheels, is rather subdued. The ST is prettier, and it is more noticeable because Ford hasn’t yet built the hot hatch from which it could launch a protuberant roof spoiler.
As ever, the innards are mostly better dressed carry-overs from the cooking model. Seats typically distinguish hot hatches, and each car here deploys two steroidal armchairs that offer the kind of lateral support you’d expect from a good beanbag.
The ST gets loopy worry dials atop its dashboard (tick). The 308 gets loopy dials period (cross), its hampered instrument cluster hiccup made worse by the GTi’s lower driving position.
Its rear leg room remains below par, too. Still, the dash is solidly handsome and, in its detailing and sophistication, has much to teach the global Focus about European cabin panache. Perhaps in return, Ford could show Peugeot the proper proportions for a hot hatch’s steering wheel, the GTi’s tiny hotel breakfast plate being an issue we’re about to get onto.
Underneath, both owe their Porsche Cayman-baiting power to the bluster of turbochargers, mounted to differently sized fourcylinder petrol engines. Neither is unfamiliar.
Peugeot’s twin-scroll blower is mated to the latest all-singing iteration of the decadeold 1.6-litre Prince unit, good for 330Nm from 1,900rpm. With a bigger intercooler and new engine map, the ST trumps that, its 2.0-litre Ecoboost motor now generating as much as 400Nm on temporary overboost. Instead of a mechanical limited-slip diff, the Focus continues to rely on its various electronic aids for traction. Peugeot, on the other hand, has developed a new-found respect for the usefulness of a bit of torque-sensing hardware between the front wheels. Thus, the GTi gets the same limited-slip diff as previously fitted to the RCZ R.
The Ecoboost is an easy engine to like. Given the superabundance of twist at half mast, the experience is predominantly a linear one, but never seems tepid or onetrick. The torque finds its way into the steering feel, no doubt, but there’s so much viscous resistance around the straight-ahead that the effect is stifled and mostly edgeless.
Instead, the lingering source of disgruntlement is the ST’s unexpectedly spiky ride quality. It’s a symptom of the recent facelift and Ford’s decision to get a little more
uncompromising with the chassis’s spring rates and bushes.
Response to the clay-like steering feel is always prompt and deft, with its purposeful change of direction neatly complementing a meaty, fat-footed sense of grip. The Ecoboost’s delivery feeds into this big-shouldered presence, giving the ST’s apparently easywrought polish just the right amount of deeply thrummy punch.
It’s difficult to tap into the 308 GTi in a way that could be described as satisfying. Compared with the Focus’s lusty heft, the Peugeot’s steering seems extremely light and, because of the child-sized wheel, it’s incredibly easy to over-egg or undercook with erroneous inputs.
It is an inconsistent thing to shift off the line, the accelerator being about as resistant as a feather pillow and mismatched to a clutch pedal endowed with way more travel than is surely necessary. The gearbox throw is needlessly long, too.
There’s more. Although the ST certainly doesn’t ride spectacularly well, the car is cleverly deadened for sound. You tend to feel isolated despite jolts to your jowls and glutes.
The 308, as promised, is much better on its more receptive dampers. Yet its low-speed compliance is a little undone by the car’s flimsy attitude to noise suppression and the front axle’s excitable, scrabbling attempts to transmit its climaxing twist.
Consequently, while the GTi is probably no more susceptible to the vagaries of torque steer than the Focus, it often seems as though it is because the uncanny tremor at the steering through the first three gears makes its electric resistance seem even more ephemeral than to begin with.
So, you end up lurching discontentedly about the place, turning the steering too much or not enough, perpetually stuck somewhere between appreciating the ride and cursing its inability to keep the wheels firmly in check while nailing it. Which you do all the time because, no doubt about it, the 308 is fast.
Peugeot’s smaller, whinier lump may be nowhere near as sonically pleasing as Ford’s, but it is quicker to spin up. And when it comes on boost, the high-rev surge seems almost frenetic after the ST’s more measured buildup of crank speed. Its shove is all the more forceful because the 308 is so much lighter than the Focus — by as much as 200kg. A mounting appreciation of that difference is the key to unlocking the GTi’s appeal.
Make your peace with the steering and the finer points of the 308’s wider, stiffer front axle are readily apparent. The turn-in is superior to the Ford’s — flatter and sharper to the apex, and thanks, of course, to its Torsen diff, far keener to have you through it and back on the power.
Under duress in fast corners, the quicker line is always the 308’s, the portly ST unable to resist lumbering toward the verge at the same pace. You’d almost certainly find the ST’s rear axle the more playful, but a big lift still causes the GTi’s back end to pucker with more than enough balance to keep you interested.
Is it all enough to pip the ST at the finishing post? It very nearly is. The 308 is quicker over most ground, nicer inside and more comfortable. Nevertheless, for all the Ford’s drawbacks, the ST sports the look, noise, better-tuned control surfaces and flagrant barrel chest I tend to value in a household hot hatch.
The Peugeot’s lightness and outright speed, though, put it in good stead. If I wouldn’t have it over the Focus, would I have it over a standard Golf GTI? A car with less power, less purpose and the same price tag?
I think maybe I would. And that, from Peugeot’s point of view, is the ultimate compliment.