Well, this is a surprise. My family from the heart of conservative trucks-and-guns Pennsylvania just took delivery of an EV. A 2022 Ford Mustang Mach-E, to be precise. Now I’m wondering, is this a harbinger of red America going green?
Not that selling EVs in the heartland should be hard. EVs pair the torque of a diesel truck with the quiet of a Lincoln Navigator and save money on gas and maintenance. It’s a win-win. (Unless you want noise and soot…and some do!)
Frankly, it was a genius move to use the Mustang name on Ford’s first clean-sheet EV. By pissing off the purists, Ford put all eyes on its EV and caught the attention of buyers who had no prior interest in electrified mobility. My relatives—who couldn’t give a wink about EV competitors like VW ID.4—are excited by their family-friendly Mustang.
So, was the Mustang Mach-E a cynical bait-and-switch by Ford—a crossover devoid of pony car spirit—or does the Mach-E deliver the Mustang goods? I aim to find out, but first, my brother-in-law Shawn has an errand to run.
As Shawn pulls his new, yet nevertheless salt-encrusted, Mach-E out of the garage, I see the strong Mustang coupe cues in the styling. The scalloped hood, arcing roofline, and flexed haunches draw from the beloved V8 pony car. Yet, in reality, the Mach-E is a two-box crossover that tricks the eye into seeing a coupe. Clever use of a black roof and light-colored body draw the fake swooping roofline. The result is a muscular and attractive compact SUV.
I circle around to the rear of the Mach-E. Although the taillights could be off a Mustang coupe, the liftgate belongs to a Ford Focus. And the spindly tires (225/55R19 Michelin Primacy A/S)? They have no place on a performance vehicle! Hmm…is the Mach-E more concerned with efficiency than fun?
Shawn motions to me to get in the car. I press the button that pops open the door, then grab the tiny wing handle, and pull it open. The door moves with a heft that would be appropriate in a Mercedes.
As it’s winter and the Mach-E is filthy, I check the rocker panels to see if my pants are in danger. They are not: the long doors cover the panels and keep them clean. However, the four-inch-thick sill catches my eye: Is the abnormally fat floor filled with batteries? Undoubtedly.
Once I am settled in the passenger’s seat, Shawn explains his Mach-E build. As a Premium trim car, it includes goodies like BlueCruise cruise control, 360-degree parking cameras, a B&O 10-speaker stereo, automatic lights and wipers, and a power liftgate. He paired winter-ready AWD with the cheaper standard-range (70 kWh) battery. The result is an advertised 224 miles of range, plus 266 hp and 428 ft-lbs of torque. If I wanted to replicate Shawn’s Mach-E today, I’d be out $57,675 plus taxes. (It took Ford 11 months to build Shawn’s SUV, and the MSRP rose in that time.)
My curious eyes explore the Mach-E’s cabin, the centerpiece of which is a large touchscreen. The screen is bright and detailed and full of large colorful icons that look easy to use on the go. I tap a few buttons and find maps, satellite radio, and long lists of vehicle settings. The Mach-E is highly configurable and will require study to thoroughly learn.
Protruding from the screen is a large volume knob; I twist it and feel it click nicely in my fingers. This knob is a cool trick; it is glued onto the screen’s face and uses capacitive touch to adjust the volume.
My fingers continue their walk. The dash top has a foamy touch, and under the air vents, I find a fabric accent with a similar weave to my old M3’s carbon leather. These materials are nice but hard, durable plastics are used from the glovebox down, and scratch-prone piano-black plastic surrounds the cup holders.
Looking back, I’m surprised to find an expansive glass ceiling. (From the outside, this elegant detail is hidden by the Mach-E’s black roof.) The rear bench could squeeze in three adults in a pinch, and the flat floor offers reasonable foot room. Most adults will find the headroom adequate, though those over 6 feet tall may have their hairdos mussed. All in all, the Mach-E’s interior feels typical of today’s compact SUVs and lacks any major flaws.
Shawn’s errand is a trip to the carwash. While the drive through town is smooth and quiet, the journey through the light-flashing rag-whipping wash is anything but! After the pummeling, the Mach-E emerges brine-free, with its alloy wheels sparkling like diamonds and its metallic gray paint showing off its sculpted body lines. This is reward enough, but then Shawn offers me the driver’s seat. I eagerly get behind the wheel.
Once I adjust the seat and driving controls, I assess the Mach-E’s ride height. My sightlines say I’m in a halfway-house SUV, neither as low as a Chevy Malibu nor as high as a Dodge Durango. (Curiously, the Mach-E has just 5.7 inches of ground clearance, similar to the Mustang coupe!)
Ford whimsically names the drive modes Whisper, Engage, and Unbridled. I decide to start my drive in the least aggressive mode and work my way up. Maneuvering out of the parking lot in Whisper, the steering is light (highly assisted) and moderately paced, and the accelerator response is relaxed. The high-resolution 360-degree parking cameras make it easy to dodge curbs and parked cars, and the tight turning circle helps me avoid multi-point turns. The Mach-E feels well suited for supermarket parking lot duty.
An impression of the Mach-E as a master of suburbia builds as I work my way out of town. Using one-pedal driving, the Mach-E stops naturally when I lift off the accelerator. From the thickly-padded driver’s seat, I have a smooth ride over all but the choppiest pavement. The forward visibility is excellent, but the over-the-shoulder C pillars create significant blindspots. (These are mitigated by the car’s blindspot monitoring.)
Soon we are winding past rural homesteads. I tap into Engage mode, and the steering loses its airiness, and the throttle tightens. The road is blemished, and through the steering wheel, I can feel the ruts and lumps nibbling at the front tires. I’m grateful to be connected to the road in the Mach-E. Such feedback gives me hope for the Mach-E as a Mustang.
Leaving a tight turn, I stomp on the throttle and feel the rear tires slip. Wow! Ford has given the Mach-E the Mustang coupe’s delightful rear-wheel-drive dynamics and lenient stability control programming! Other companies wouldn’t have bothered to make their compact EV SUVs fun, but the Mach-E needs to live up to its pony car legacy. Thank goodness for the engagement and the explorable limits!
Encouraged by the frisky Ford and swoopy road, I quickly step up to Unbridled, the Mach-E’s go-fast mode. The accelerator becomes more sensitive, the steering stiffens, and the synthesized drive sounds deepen. (No, it doesn’t sound like a V8.)
The suspension, however, is unchanged since the Premium trim uses shocks with fixed rates. Regardless, the chassis demonstrates its prowess as I whip around corners. When hustled into a corner, the Mach-E quickly settles its weight, grips to the apex, and then romps out the far side with a rear-biased shove. It’s a much better dance partner than I’d expect out of a 4500 lb crossover on spaghetti tires.
(Though due to its weight and modest roll, the Mach-E drives more like a Dodge Challenger R/T than Mustang GT. No matter! It is loads of fun and absolutely worth hooning down my favorite roads.)
The only dynamic disappointment is the power: The 266 hp Mach-E is perky, but I still wish for more. This Premium standard-battery AWD Mach-E can sprint to 60 mph in 5.2 seconds, but those numbers depend on charge levels and temperatures. I’ve only got 50% charge and freezing weather, so my sprints don’t match Ford’s best.
Furthermore, the acceleration curve is curious, more Euro diesel than dragster. Most EVs I’ve tested pull forcefully at highway speeds, but this Mach-E’s punch wanes after 40 mph. The highway acceleration is adequate, but it won’t surprise its gas-powered brethren.
(Ford sells the Mach-E in a half dozen power outputs depending on the combination of battery, drive wheels and trim package. The long-range battery and GT trim levels unlock much more power and should make the Mach-E feel as spritely as the Tesla Model Y.)
After a few fun passes over the looping hills, I stop my tomfoolery and head to the nearest charger. The Electrify America station is located in a mall parking lot, just a few fields away from the Limerick nuclear power plant. With the sinister cooling stacks in sight, we plug into a 150 kW charger and—after a credit card swipe—begin slamming juice into the Mach-E.
While the current is flowing, I peek through the Mach-E’s nooks and crannies. The trunk has good depth and width, but its steeply-angled window trims its height. As a result, carry-on bags can only stand tall if pressed against the seat back, and most large checked suitcases need to be laid flat. Under the trunk floor is storage for the charging cable and tire inflation kit. A second front trunk can swallow another duffle or a couple of backpacks.
In 35 minutes, the Mach-E charges from 45% to 82%, adding 31 kWh to the 70 kWh battery. The trip computer estimates we now have 150 miles of range.
I’d love to spin the wheel some more, but Shawn chooses to drive us back; he’s also excited to stretch the legs of his new Mach-E! Leaving desolate intersections, he stomps the go-pedal and sends the Mach-E skittering down the road. As before, the ESP allows a small amount of oversteer, just enough to elicit laughs without endangering occupants or bystanders.
Soon we encounter a choppy road that tests the suspension’s compliance. The jostling is modest, but I could see how Los Angelinos with bumpy Highway 405 commutes will want the optional adjustable shocks. For that, they’ll have to upgrade to the GT.
We spend the last few miles of our journey on a country highway. At 65 mph, the tires and motors are silent, but the noise of the rushing wind fills the cabin. The sound levels are appropriate for a mainstream SUV but are less shushed than luxury competition like the Audi Q5.
As we pull back into the garage, I’m thinking Ford has done it. They built an attractive EV SUV with the balance and giggles of a pony car! Amazingly, the all-electric Mach-E doesn’t sully the Mustang brand. Instead, it adds one more way to enjoy it!
And is the Mach-E enough to pull red America into the EV revolution? Probably not on its own, but it’s a good start!
PS: What about the Tesla Model 3?
Whenever I drive a new car like the Mach-E, I invariably ask myself two questions: 1) is this a car sweet enough for me to own, and 2) am I ready to trade in one of my cars to buy it? Those questions were put into perspective when I returned from Pennsylvania and was reunited with my Tesla Model 3.
We found the Tesla where we’d left it, in the airport’s long-term parking lot. My family’s luggage went into the trunk—it fit here as easily as it did in the Mach-E—and then I closed the lid. A dismal sound, a tinny hollow clunk, echoed through the parking lot as the hatch slammed closed. If the Mach-E cribbed Mercedes for its door weight and sealing, then the Tesla copied Mitsubishi. (The Model 3’s driver’s door closed with a more substantial thunk.)
There was more penny-pinching in the Model 3’s cabin. The dash was flat and featureless, gloss-black plastic adorned the center console and door switches, and the vast majority of the car’s features were missing physical buttons. When I started driving, it was more of the same: the reversing camera provided just a 180-degree view, and I had no instruments behind the steering wheel. Even the seat design was boring, though my back and bum found it supremely comfortable.
As my Model 3 circulated the airport access roads, a cacophony of clunks emanated from its suspension and body. When I merged onto the highway and settled into a cruise, I found tire roar and wind noise. Only the sublimely crisp stereo—the best I’ve heard in the class—distracted me from the rattles.
When contrasted with the solid and quiet Mustang Mach-E, the Tesla Model 3 felt like it was built to economy car standards. Which it was: the Tesla was engineered for a $35k starting price. (A price it held for a year before it climbed to today’s $47k.) In contrast, the Mach-E lineup was designed around a $45k entry.
So yes, I’m comparing apples to oranges when I measure my Model 3 against Shawn’s Mach-E. Sedan vs. SUV, RWD vs. AWD, 62 kWh battery vs. 70 kWh. But more than that, the Model 3 comes from a teething tech startup that caters to techie customers, while the Mach-E is from the granddaddy of automobiles and aims to appeal to everyone.
I can see the difference in the choices each company made. Tesla pleases early adopters by including cutting-edge (but partially baked) software like Full Self Driving. It gives customers access to the battery’s entire capacity and then trusts them not to charge it to 100% every night. (Which would hurt its lifespan.) And, because geeks like goodies, it packs the car with Easter Eggs, arcade games, and streaming video entertainment—more silliness than naming Sport mode Unbridled.
On the other hand, the Mach-E doesn’t get many of these beta features. Instead, it gets mainstream tech like 360-degree parking cameras and Apple CarPlay, and its battery withholds some of its capacity to ensure its longevity. Ford takes the conservative approach, so it doesn’t need to explain as many bugs and technicalities to its users.
But as a techie, I like the early and silly features from Tesla. And as a driving enthusiast, I’d rather have the Model 3’s lighter curb weight than the Mach-E’s bank-vault doors. You see, the Model 3 is 700 pounds trimmer, so it sprints harder for the horizon and claws more aggressively through corners. Its nose is lighter, its steering rack is faster, and its weight is slung closer to the ground. The Model 3 cuts through turns like a Porsche Cayman, while the Mach-E swings its heft like a Dodge Challenger.
Yes, the Mustang Mach-E is a giggle-inducing hoot and absolutely sweet enough for me to own it. However, my tech and enthusiastic priorities keep the Model 3 dear to me, so I won’t pay the difference to trade up to the Mach-E.
Mike's Steering Column 