Hybrid a mix of SUV, sports car
One of my wisecracking friends, always ready with a snarky remark, smirked as I drove up in the new Panamera E-Hybrid. “Congratulations,” he said. “You’re reversing global climate change, one Porsche at a time, by driving a plug-in hybrid.”
He was missing the point. The E-Hybrid, particularly the turbocharged version I was driving, is not about the environment. It’s about performance.
Though it’s disguised as a family car, and advertised as a fuel-efficient plug-in, the true character of the Panamera Turbo S E-Hybrid Sport Turismo emerges when the car is in hybrid or sport mode and the accelerator is stomped.
That engages both the 4.0-litre turbocharged V-8 engine and the 100-kW electric motor, which together put power to all four wheels and produce 680 horsepower and 626 pound-feet of torque. (The electric motor contributes 136 horsepower to that, and 136 pound-feet of torque.)
That means zero to 100 kilometres an hour in a reported 3.2 seconds — and a top track speed of 309 km/h.
Depending on whom you ask, the Panamera is either a sedan, a sport wagon or a station wagon. It does have four doors and offers comfortable seating for four adults and room in the hatchback rear for their luggage. A five-passenger seating arrangement is optional.
It doesn’t do some of what a “shooting brake” or station wagon should. The storage area has 49 cubic feet of cargo room, but felt cramped. I would have hesitated to fold the seats down and make room for a bicycle or a brace of snowboards.
But it does drive well. On the road, it feels like a large sports car, dancing like a large person whose nimble feet aren’t aware of how much weight they’re supporting.
In fact, it feels like a wide, heavy 911 — because it is. The Panamera sits wider and longer, and weighs almost 680 kilograms more, than a comparably equipped 911 Turbo S.
It behaves quite similarly, too. The eight-speed PDK double-clutch transmission shifts seamlessly on its own, or can be manipulated with paddle shifters. A mode switch set inside the steering wheel, like the manettino on a Ferrari, allows the driver to choose among all-electric, hybrid and two sport settings.
Around town, the all-electric setting made for a sleek, silent ride, with up to 23 km of range before the battery required recharging. (It takes about three hours to restore the battery again on a 240-volt system.) This stealth mode won’t wake the neighbours.
On a road trip to Santa Barbara, the hybrid mode proved a pleasant choice for cruising up the Pacific Coast Highway, allowing the car to decide when to switch between the gasoline engine and the “e-machine” electric motor, and when to use both at the same time.
On the twisty San Marcos Pass above Santa Barbara, Sport and Sport Plus settings seemed optimal, engaging the gasoline engine and e-machine simultaneously for maximum power while also adjusting transmission shift points, stiffening the suspension and increasing the exhaust roar.
Over the San Marcos crest, the Panamera looked right at home among the sports cars and superbikes parked at the legendary Cold Spring Tavern.
The handling is Porsche-grade delightful. Air suspension, all-wheel drive, traction management, 21-inch wheels and huge 420-millimetre ceramic brake calipers are standard equipment on this trim level.
The Panamera’s 80-litre gas tank, along with the hybrid technology, made the trip up the coast and back a single-tank excursion. In the four days I drove the car, in fact, I didn’t go to a gas station or plug in to recharge the electric motor.
Porsche year-to-date sales are strong, up three per cent over the same period in 2017. The company’s top seller is, by far, the Macan SUV, followed in descending numbers by the 911, the Cayenne and the Panamera.
But while Cayenne numbers have fallen in the past year, Panamera numbers are rising — partly because of the hybrid offerings. The company reports that 60 per cent of all Panameras sold in recent months have been hybrids.
Why aren’t sales higher? The Panamera might be suffering from a design hangover. Many who remember the first iterations of the car found it ungainly. After the 2010 introduction, and despite a 2013 facelift, some Porsche fans still remember the awkward rear end that made it the automotive equivalent of a reverse mullet haircut — a party in the front, but all business in the back.
Quite a few of those early versions are still on the road, which may prevent consumers from appreciating the newer, sleeker models.
The back has been lowered and narrowed, so the car looks less like an AMC Pacer and more like a Ferrari FF. Now it can boast, with dimensions to back it up, that it’s a real sports car, but with more cargo area.