Driving a Tesla can be a revelation. It’s partly the way they look. Tesla pioneered building a dedicated EV that doesn’t seem intentionally ugly. Then there’s the performance. Anyone who has sat behind the wheel of a Tesla with Ludicrous or Insane acceleration modes knows that these are no weenie compliance cars. And there’s the perception that everyone else in the EV game builds appliances whereas Tesla builds status symbols, something entirely new.
Setting up a Tesla, your brain—trained by a lifetime of expectation—wonders if having a dedicated control to adjust the side mirrors is actually necessary and if you’ll ever remember where the hazard-light button is when you need it (psst, it’s above you). But then once you start going, if you’re in a Model S or a Model 3, you’ll experience the simple joy that comes from driving a car that’s quick and quiet and that handles well. Tesla’s electric powertrains really are remarkable, and considering everything the company provides—from Supercharging to Dog mode to over-the-air updates—we understand why so many Tesla owners say they’ll never buy from any other carmaker.
But then we come to the Model Y. Hopping from Car and Driver‘s long-term Model 3 into the Model Y—which we sourced from a gracious owner and not Tesla—changes the frame of reference and makes the Y look even more like a dishwasher than it already does. This isn’t a bold new thing from Tesla. It looks like what would happen if you read the “Esio Trot” poem to a Model 3: It’s taller, longer, and wider, but the interior and exterior designs are essentially indistinguishable.
On its face, that seems like a good thing. We like the Model 3, so a car that’s just like it but has a roomier back seat—with nearly two more inches of headroom—and a bigger cargo hold—fitting seven carry-on bags behind the seats to the 3’s four—sounds great, right? In reality, the Y’s dimensions work against it. Even though the Y and 3 share powertrains and batteries, the less refined driving character of the former is instantly discernible by anyone who has driven the latter. There is more body roll, and a keen tush detects a bit of flex in the unibody when the chassis is stressed in corners or by pockmarked roads. The quick steering makes the 350-pound-heavier Model Y feel twitchy in comparison with the 3, and our test car’s optional 20-inch wheels contribute, no doubt, to suspension crash over expressway expansion joints.
We also noticed a lot of that odd electric-motor whine that accompanies acceleration and a slightly different tone that comes with regenerative braking. The regen feels the same, though. The good news is that you can easily drown this out with the standard 14-speaker audio system.
The $57,190 Model Y we drove has the same two-motor all-wheel-drive powertrain as our long-term Model 3 but musters a combined 384 horsepower and 376 lb-ft of torque in this application. The 75.0 kilowatt-hours of usable energy from the battery pack provide an EPA-estimated 316 miles of driving range, but you’ll regret not opting for the more powerful Performance model when you’re trying to get the Y’s 4386 pounds off the line. The stomach-turning sensation of low-end torque that we’ve come to associate with Teslas is missing here.
The Y has taller tires than the 3, which help it in the range department (longer gearing), but these act like cement shoes at low speed. When rolling into the accelerator from a stop, the powertrain feels almost sluggish until 30 or 40 mph. That’s not to say the Y isn’t quick. It hits 60 in 4.4 seconds, 0.4 second behind our 3, and goes from 30 to 50 mph in an impressive 1.7 seconds. At the quarter-mile, a 12.7-second affair, the Y is still 0.4 second down on the 3. No one is going to make a YouTube reaction video in this car, at least not one that will get a bunch of views.
On our 75-mph 200-mile highway test route, the Y achieves a real-world range of 220 miles, just 10 shy of the Model 3’s. The brand’s commitment to building out its charging network means that having a Tesla as your only car is a realistic proposition, even here in the Midwest. The company says a Model Y can restore 158 miles of range by spending 15 minutes at a Supercharger. This still doesn’t match the five-minute full-tank fill-up that a gas station provides, but Tesla is continually getting closer. That said, Supercharger stations remain notably lacking in cheap coffee and Hostess Donettes.
This Model Y came with the one feature we’ve come to expect in all Teslas: shoddy fit and finish. We noted inconsistent gaps between the body panels—not all of which sit flush, by the way. There’s a definite orange-peel effect to the paint, which also had some chips fresh from the factory, according to the owner. A few wires hang in the open from the dashboard into the passenger’s footwell. Tesla placed the tire-pressure sticker on the door jamb in such a way that the white label peeks through the gap between the front fender and the door panel. And a series of persistent creaks and rattles from the back seat and cargo area made the owner send this car back to Tesla for a fix. The company says the rattle is a known problem without a solution, so the owner found a workaround. He slightly reclines part of the rear bench to stop the seatbacks from rubbing against one another.
Tesla has built its business by selling desirable EVs at luxury prices. But the Model Y, which lacks a lot of amenities for its price, makes clear that Tesla wasn’t looking to innovate here. The company took one of its established vehicles—the cheapest one, at that—and made an appliance of it, just like so many other automakers have done with their EVs.
And yet, Tesla loyalty runs so deep, this electric crossover will surely sell like gangbusters. And that’s fine. There’s nothing dreadfully wrong with the Model Y. But we can’t help but feel that Tesla punted on this one. The company known for daring played it safe, and the result doesn’t score big with us.
Counterpoint
Tesla joins the crossover ranks by raising the Model 3’s roof 7.1 inches to create the Y, and yet the EPA range figure barely budges. What gives? The BMW X3’s highway mileage drops 15 percent compared with that of an equivalent 3-series, and an Audi Q5’s plummets 13 percent versus an A4’s. You’d think the Tesla would suffer a similar hit, but the all-wheel-drive Y Long Range sees only a 2 percent drop from the comparable 3’s range. And it’s not just the EPA results that bear this out; in our real-world testing, the Y’s 220-mile range is just 4 percent down on the 3’s (230 miles). I appreciate that Tesla could overcome this drawback of turning a car into an SUV, but it took seriously uncomfortable ride quality on 20-inch wheels and tires to achieve it. —Dave VanderWerp
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