Can new slippery Audi A6 Sportback e-tron persuade us? – I ran a BMW i5 Touring last year, as regular readers will recall. You may also remember that, in spite of my doubts about EVs, I actually enjoyed them. I even went so far as to claim that BMW now produces the greatest EVs. My theory isn’t a one-hit wonder, as demonstrated by the new BMW iX3, which took home TG’s most recent Car of the Year Award.
Now for the all-electric Audi A6 Sportback e-tron from Top Gear Garage. Another large executive electric vehicle from Germany. Its goal is to challenge BMW for those accolades and determine whether a new strategy for producing electric vehicles can be equally fulfilling.
You see, the A6 e-tron is a custom EV, while the BMW i5 is a 5 Series with battery power (the same shell is also available with combustion power). A combustion A6 is available, but it has nothing to do with this.
What does “Sportback” mean, meanwhile? It indicates that although it has a rear hatchback, it is not an estate. It’s also slick. This is actually Audi’s most aerodynamically efficient vehicle to date. assuming you checked the box for the high-end camera mirrors.
We didn’t. To be honest, they’re awful. We don’t need a six-month test to tell you that we’ll gladly give up a little efficiency in exchange for not getting sick and being able to reverse in the dark.
Due to all of this slipperiness, a single motor with 322 horsepower and a 75.8kThe WLTP range of a Wh battery is 383 miles. If you choose the Avant, that falls to 361 miles.
Since this is Top Gear, we’ve also opted for the faster “Performance” pack (yep, that’s what it’s called). This offers a purported range of 463 miles with a larger 94.9kWh battery instead of the 75.8kWh unit. If I get close to that, especially this time of year, I’ll eat The Stig’s helmet.
We’ve disregarded the statistics and opted for Malpelo Blue metallic (£775), which is… intriguing, even though gray might be the most popular color of 2025 and would go very well with Audi’s gorgeous new F1 vehicle livery. in a manner similar to changing rooms).
Additionally, we have chosen the £2,895 Bang and Olufsen sound and vision system. Well-spent money? I had to introduce Bang and Olufsen to my teenage son right away. More significantly, I advised him to focus on maintaining the cleanliness of the white inside.
We have a lot of work ahead of us. Is Audi’s “Sportback” compromise roomy and adaptable enough to satisfy our desire for the wagon while still offering range advantages? Does this brand-new A6 continue the tradition of the Audi 100’s executive express? What does it actually mean to live with one of the most aerodynamic vehicles on the planet? Savings on operating expenses? As I speed up and down the A1, is there less wind noise? Will it never require cleaning?
This has a lot on the line. The e-trons themselves have entered a world that, like me, is no longer convinced that EVs are the way of the future. Audi was the latest of the three major German automakers to fully commit to an electric family of vehicles. Get out of the overtaking lane and pass me my Bluetooth earpiece. I’m a man on a mission.
What is the Audi A6 e-tron’s performance as a family taxi?
The AA polled 6,000 parents in 2012. A third of them were discovered to be driving their kids around for up to 49 hours a month.
Even though that survey is quite old, I don’t think the numbers have decreased; in fact, I’d bet that a third is now closer to a half. In our home, it definitely feels like way. The worst part is that my service is totally free, and the “taxi of Mum and Dad” is a real thing.
But there is a bright side. Apart from the endless hours spent watching athletic events, the rigorous transportation of children is the perfect stress test for a family vehicle. Is the A6 the ideal taxi wagon, then? Although it’s near, it has flaws.
Comfort and ease of usage are essential if you plan to drive for extended periods of time. The ergonomics of this A6 e-tron are a mixed bag, yet comfort is abundant.
Even though the chairs are simple and without electric controls (old school, I know), they manage to balance support and the sink-in, lounge-chair effect. Although the white leather gives the cabin a pleasant feeling of lightness and airiness, it is not useful for heavy family wear and tear.
The steering wheel also has a tendency toward simplicity, in addition to the chairs. Its substantially sized diameter and thin rims complement the easygoing driving style that this vehicle promotes. It actually reminds me of the vintage Audi 100 wheels, which are subtle, graceful, and made for easy cruising rather than forceful inputs. I adore it.
Despite this, I frequently unintentionally turn up my “dad music” to maximum blast due to the touch-sensitive digital controls on the wheel, which annoys my Gen Alpha passengers. It appears that Audi has realized that was a mistake. I see that the toggle buttons inside the new Audi RS5 have been changed back to the original ones. A pleasant return to tactile common sense.
Speaking of controls, Audi has combined the locking features, wing mirror adjustments, and lights into a single panel on the driver’s door. At first, I was most annoyed by the light controls’ repositioning. Muscle memory took some time to adjust after what seemed like ages of them living either on the indicator stalk or as a rotary knob by the steering wheel.
Having everything grouped together does start to make some sense now that I’m accustomed to it. Is it safer, though? Compared to the previous tactile setup, having to look down to activate them—which have a smooth touch-sensitive screen instead of raised buttons—feels more distracting.
The seat-sensitive auto start is another aspect of muscle memory that I struggle with. I’m so accustomed to physically starting an engine that I frequently catch myself getting into the car and automatically hitting the start-stop button to turn it off. Although it’s a minor issue, it illustrates how deeply embedded some driving customs are.
As appears to be the standard these days, the main multimedia display is enormous, but instead of seeming like a tablet stuck to the dashboard, it perfectly wraps around the driver to create a cocooned, driver-focused experience. Key functions like heating are always available on-screen, regardless of the menu you’re in, and functionality is simple—possibly even simpler than a BMW’s comparable system.
The digital dash doesn’t convince me as much. To be honest, I find the visualization of the car’s back and the surrounding traffic to be a bit unnecessary and annoying. I should be utilizing my mirrors, and I do, but my overall vision is already a little off. The driver is pushed farther away from the A-pillars by the comparatively shallow front windscreen, while the tiny rear window caused by the swoopy, aero-obsessed rear hinders rearward view.
Furthermore, there is no back wiper. Why? It makes rear visibility nearly difficult in bad weather, thus you are largely dependent on cameras and sensors. That seems like a surprise error for a car that specializes in comfort and long-distance usability. Don’t use the justification that it’s “super slippery” and water just slides off; dirt doesn’t do that, but it might. Actually, I’m having a lot of trouble keeping things clean.
Naturally, you would want to know about boot space and mpg if you were a professional cab driver. I’ve brought in a diesel Avant to check if we’ve made the wrong decision, so you’ll need to tune in again for the next installment.
Which contemporary Audi is superior, an electric saloon or a diesel estate?
The phrase “Mondeo Man” was first used in the 1990s after Tony Blair, who would later become prime minister, saw a voter polishing his Ford Mondeo. He was a conventional working-class man who had previously been a devoted Labour supporter but was now a homeowner with an ex-council house and a car of his own—exactly the kind of swing voter Labour needed to win. He wondered what Labour could give him today, recalling past governments that had raised taxes and mortgage rates. It seems like certain things never change.
The original Mondeo Man became wealthier over time, upgrading to expensive insignia like BMW and Audi. Although there isn’t a single model that best exemplifies this group now, the electric executive saloon is undoubtedly its contemporary counterpart—a logical progression in both status and sensibility.
However, Audi still offers an A6 diesel if you’re not quite ready to give up your reliable Mondeo for an electric vehicle (and fair play if it’s still running strong). Despite having comparable design philosophies and technical ethics, these two cars are fundamentally distinct from one another.
It seemed appropriate to test them side by side because of this. I borrowed an Avant (mHEV+, Quattro) in addition to the saloon, in part for completeness and in part because a surprising amount of people on the internet have questioned my sanity for even considering a saloon. To be honest, I had my own doubts about it. This seemed like a practical—and perhaps rebellious—departure for the TG garage because we’ve always managed estates.
To my surprise, however, the differences weren’t as noticeable as I had anticipated. Yes, the Avant has a somewhat deeper boot, but not significantly, and because of the e-tron’s creative packaging, the estate’s typical height advantage didn’t really show up in daily use. Think of it as a practical draw: Diesel 1, e-tron 1.
However, it’s less of a contest in terms of aesthetics. Simply put, the Avant is more attractive—cleaner lines, no odd split-headlight arrangement—and it has a little more presence and swagger when equipped with the S line package. Or, to paraphrase my kids, who are the worst judges out there: “Can we take the other Audi? Dad, it looks so much better. It’s difficult to dispute that. E-tron 1, diesel 2.
Inside, things are both imperceptibly different and intriguingly familiar. “I mean, we’re looking down on Wayne’s basement,” as Garth Algar once stated in Wayne’s World. But that’s not Wayne’s basement. Isn’t that strange? At first sight, the layouts seem similar, but after spending some time in each, the differences in execution, materials, and design start to show.
With its chunkier steering wheel and busier layout, the Diesel seems more aggressive—racier, even a little cramped—and verges on sensory overload. Keep in mind that the additional screen is preferable than the e-tron’s somewhat sluggish blanked panels. However, this may reveal more about me than the vehicles: perhaps I truly am that contemporary Mondeo Man, since I find myself favoring the subdued, serene atmosphere of the e-tron. E-tron 2, Diesel 2.
What about the crucial figures, though? The e-tron can reach 60 mph in an astonishingly quick 5.4 seconds, compared to the diesel’s about seven seconds. There’s no contest there. E-tron 3, diesel 2.
However, when it comes to range, things get tighter. I drove an absolutely incredible 500 miles on the diesel over the course of two weeks. Whatever dark technique is practiced inside that engine verges on witchcraft. Even if it might not be thrilling, it serves as a reminder that internal combustion engines still have life.
In contrast, the e-tron is not as heroic. I’ve only been able to travel 300 miles thus far, and it was on an especially nice day. It’s closer to 250 in more practical, daily driving. Maybe it will get a little push during the warmer months. But for now: e-tron 3, diesel 3.
Which one would I purchase in place of the Mondeo, then? It’s the e-tron, which surprised me. It’s just more pleasant to drive—it’s quieter, smoother, and more focused. Despite all of its advantages, the diesel seemed a touch uneasy and restless, making it unsuitable for poor British roads.
Nevertheless, if I could have just one thing, it would be the smoothness and comfort of the e-tron’s performance in a diesel vehicle. That would be the ideal modern Mondeo Man machine.
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