Mini Electric vs Mazda MX-30: fun sub-£30k EVs face off

Mazda’s defence is that it takes a ‘right-sizing’ approach, having carefully assessed the needs of would-be buyers. It says that fitting a bigger battery pack would make the MX-30 more expensive and the extra mass would blunt its handling, and all for no good reason, given that hardly anyone drives more than 50 miles daily. Hmm. Objectively that may be true, and it seems sensible enough on paper. But for a compact crossover, even one intended for suburban commuters, this is an unambiguously punchy strategy, and more so because Mazda desperately needs to sell plenty of these cars in Europe to avoid CO2-related fines.

Apologies for the range-related downer, but at least now we can move on and get to the good bits. After all, what would boost the MX-30’s appeal considerably among existing (and surprisingly discerning, not to mention loyal) Mazda owners when it arrives in the UK imminently is if it can scalp the little Mini dynamically.

Get up close and it presents like one of those twee motorshow concept cars from around the millennium. Remember the Ford 021C or the Dodge Kahuna? Maybe you don’t, but the MX-30’s cylindrical lights, chunky cladding and uncomplicated lines give it the same flavour of super-sized toy-box charm.

The cabin is less adventurous, but only marginally so. There are rear ‘suicide’ doors and some cork trim (like Peugeot, Mazda is one of those manufacturers that originally started off making something completely different to cars – in this case cork, in 1930), but today the boring old driving ergonomics are what count. And they’re solidly good, not least because they borrow heavily from the ICE models.

As ever with Mazda, there are no configurable driving modes or confusing gimmicks when you want to get going. Unlike the Mini, whose interior is a montage of bloop-bleep sounds, fluoro-hues and quirky displays (although, in the case of the main instrument dials, one that’s not even centred properly and is surprisingly rough in resolution), the Mazda is traditional.

The thin-rimmed steering wheel could have been ripped straight from an MX-5, the digital instruments are designed to look analogue and the fabric seats may appear to have been ordered from the Heal’s catalogue but are supportive, comfortable and sporting. By comparison, the Mini sets its driver deliciously low, with even more figure-hugging seats and a view forward that feels as though your eyeline is just skimming the scuttle. One of these cars strikes a classy GT-esque tone while the other feels raw pocket-rocket, and there’s no question which is which.

The same distinction applies to the driving experience. Both the Mini and the MX-30 are, as we had expected, unusually good to drive by the often one-dimensional standards of the electric car class. But despite possessing that hallmark EV neutral balance, they’re chalk and cheese in the way they go down a road.

The 181bhp Mini – around 140kg heavier than the comparable petrol-engined Cooper S but with an even lower centre of gravity – is clearly the quicker car, being more cleanly responsive both in terms of powertrain and handling.

Both cars ride more fluidly that you might think, given the spring rates must surely be higher to accommodate the mass of the batteries, but in the Mini, body roll is minimal and grip levels are genuinely excellent. You can thank the balanced weight distribution for that, and the overall effect is a car that feels one-to-one in the way it reacts to steering and throttle inputs. Playful? Not so much. Just ferociously direct, and thrilling with it. The synaptic hit that this car can deliver, seemingly out of nowhere, lingers in your nervous system. Bravo, Mini.

By comparison, and despite its motor making a Mini-matching 199lb ft, our early-build MX-30 feels slightly ponderous, although in fairness so would many genuinely quick ICE cars.

The Mazda’s brakes don’t muster anything like the feel or confidence of the Mini’s firm and high-biting pedal, either. And of course there’s also the higher driving position, which is lovely for pottering about but sets entirely the wrong tone for driving satisfaction.