Mini Electric: very much like a Mini, but electric
To get its first EV out fast, Mini hasn’t gone for revolution. Bodge or masterstroke?
Sandwiched at a Miami intersection between jacked-up F-250 Super Duty trucks and drop-top rental Mustangs, Mini’s hatch-witha-difference sits patiently. The truckers and sun-seekers can’t hide their surprise when the imposter silently zips away from the lights faster than they could dream of.
Despite feeling alien among the Miami tra c, the new Mini’s at home in the city itself, blending with the glam and glassy skyscrapers, carving its way down pale grey tarmac streets and past brightly gra tied walls. In these colours the Mini’s kitsch and retro, but you don’t have to have it looking this bright. I would, though.
Mini’s approach is to keep the EV messages low-key. Sure, the excellent three-pin-socket wheels stand out, but they can be swapped for other designs, and nor is the yellow detailing on the outside compulsory. Minis are funky enough already, so the car arguably doesn’t have to shout about its lack of exhaust; the only mandatory detail is the yellow Electric badge.
It’s the same story inside. It’s a Mini. It has Mini infotainment, Mini seats, Mini switchgear and Mini quality materials. The only significant differences are a yellow starter button and the digital instruments. These instruments are new for the Electric, and will feature on the hot GP too. It’s a simple set-up, with cartoon-sized graphics for battery charge and the power meter, and a simple central graphic. There’s a frosted glass cover that leaves the graphics a tad blurry, but minimises sun glare. The three trim grades, helpfully labelled Level 1, 2 and 3, are arguably more about cosmetics; standard kit is generous. As standard you get LED headlights, connected nav and climate control with an auxiliary heat pump for those cold mornings EVs hate so much. The navigation displays your range in a glowing green circle, and suggests a ‘Green’ route designed to be kindest on your battery.
Under the skin there are bits of BMW i3 S, albeit modified. The motor output is the same, and the batteries are arranged in a T-shape. The 32.6kWh battery pack and 181bhp motor combine to offer a range of up to 167 miles, with Mini claiming that a charge from empty to 80 per cent full on a 50kW socket (becoming available publicly in the UK) takes around 35 minutes. On Mini’s wallbox (7.4kW or 11kW, depending on your infrastructure), which Mini will install at your house should you have the necessary off-street parking, will have you good to go (80 per cent full) in two-and-a-half to three hours.
That battery and e-motor pairing is plenty enough, power-wise. Clearly the Mini is not Tesla Ludicrous fast, with no kick to your internal organs with every throttle prod, but the Electric’s almost as quick as a Cooper S. And that’s regardless of the drive mode the car is in. There are four: Sport, Mid, Green and – developed specially for the Electric – Green+. This is the emergency mode, shutting off the air-con and seat heating and upping the level of brake regeneration.
Talking of which, the Electric can effectively be driven with one pedal in town. There’s a switch by the starter button that alters the amount of regen on the go. Hone your technique and steel your nerves as you challenge yourself not to touch the brakes ⊲
There’s go-kart-ness here; the Mini corners flat, and direction changes are dealt with astutely
when you see a red light. It’s oddly rewarding when you get it right and, unlike the Nissan Leaf’s e-Pedal, you feel comfortable leaving this setting on at higher speeds as the brake pedal doesn’t turn to mush should you have to resort to pressing it.
While the brakes have bite, the steering’s lost something in the move to e-power. There’s a sogginess you don’t get in a Cooper S, for example. So when you find a corner – a rare treat in the Floridian urban sprawl – the Electric’s not as alert as a regular Mini. Uniquely for a Mini, there’s also a dead spot in the steering. Sport mode doesn’t banish it, either, with the helm simply becoming heavier.
Still, there’s still some go-kart-ness here. The Mini corners flat and swift direction changes are dealt with astutely. On manhole-ridden Miami roads those 17-inch plug-socket wheels keep you informed while yielding to bumps with a slight (and I mean only slight) pliancy you won’t find in a Cooper S. Still, the softer edge to them is welcome.
So there’s much to like, but there’s a lot to like about the Mini’s competition, too. VW’s e-Up and Seat’s Mii Electric both offer a functional eco-box city slicker with similar range for around £5k less, and the Renault Zoe boasts another 70 miles of range on a comparable finance deal. All three are physically smaller cars, granted, but the compact Mini doesn’t demolish them on practicality or internal space. But the biggest thorn in the Mini’s side is surely Honda’s e (page 44). Claimed ranges are comparable, the Honda can be had on a similar finance offer, and its interior is to die for. The Japanese car also pips the Mini for manoeuvrability.
While the Honda is a lightning strike to the heart, the Mini’s appeal comes via a more measured trickle charge. It drives well, it looks good and the compromised range might not be a factor depending on your planned usage. But in truth you have to really want a Mini for the Electric to make sense. If you do, it’s a Mini through and through. If you don’t, there are plenty of competitive alternatives that offer more range or more drama for your money.
First verdict
Loses out to the Honda on wow factor, and EV rivals o er more range for the money, but the Electric’s a Mini; posh and funky #####