RISE OF THE MACHINES

THERE’S POSSIBLY NEVER BEEN A bigger — or heavier — oxymoron than performance SUV. Excess weight (two tonnes is par), a sky-high centre of gravity, a footprint to make a city planner cry into their designs for urban motoring utopia, and a driving experience that’s at best aloof, at worst catastrophic — most are guilty as charged.

BMW was first to demonstrate that an SUV could be made to drive like a car with its original X5. Then Porsche showed us that its own SUV, the Cayenne, could get pretty close to steering, riding and stopping like a sports car, too. What’s followed has been a torrent of behemoths that are as powerful as the latest supersaloons and quicker than anything their size and weight has any right to be.

The performance SUV makes an indecent contribution to the profit line, the familiar argument going that every Cayenne/X6/GLE/ Q8 helps fund a sports car lower down the food chain. But while that was true back in the day, the reality now is that they are helping the cash flow as frighteningly expensive EV development costs continue to rise.

Like their EV relatives, performance SUVs tend to provide a similar experience when it comes to driving: absurdly quick and capable but ultimately uninvolving. There are exceptions, of course. Aston Martin’s DBX, Porsche’s Cayenne Turbo GT, BMW’s X5M and yes, the loutish Lamborghini Urus (above) all impress for their capability of delivering on their claimed performance credentials and their willingness to add some sharpness to the sector’s general bluntness.

They remain, however, accompaniments to rather than a replacement for all-wheel-drive performance cars. You might pick a high-end performance SUV over an RS6 or M5 but you’d be mad to ditch a 911 Turbo S for one. ⌧