BYD Seal vs Toyota Prius

What's the difference?

Those big auto executives have good reason to be worried, because the Seal is yet another impressive offering from China’s most formidable EV player.

It’s not perfect. In some ways it’s trying too hard to be a luxury car, and I think the software in particular could use a little work, but the Seal just does so much right I think it will be hard to be disappointed with one, particularly given its keen entry price.

In fact, if we had to pick one from the range, it would probably be this mid-spec Premium. The range and power on offer are stellar, and all for less money than an entry-level Model 3 or Polestar 2.

The Prius can rest its weary head. The Age of the Hybrid has begun. Even though this iconic eco car might have lost its ultimate purpose to more mainstream models in the last few years, it’s still the best execution of Toyota’s hybrid tech on the market and if you can look past its divisive-as-ever looks, it’s comfortable and practical, too.

The brand’s Australian division promises the Prius will stick around in one form or another, so we’re keen to see what its next iteration will look like. Plug-in? Fully electric? Time will tell.

The Seal looks great. It’s about as modern a take on the traditional three-box sedan as you can get. It’s low-slung with curvy lines and a sporty overall feel.

The design touches, like the headlight and DRL surrounds, side skirts, and wheels are maximalist compared to the minimalist vibes of the Model 3 and the Polestar 2. But I don’t necessarily think that's a bad thing as it offers buyers a genuine alternative.

I also like the way the brand has executed the LED lights and particularly the tail-light fittings. There’s also an admirable restraint when it comes to badging compared to a lot of this car’s Chinese rivals. It doesn’t give off the vibe of a cut-price product at all.

Inside there are elements which are appealing, and some things which fall short. First up, I do think the Seal wears its influences throughout the industry on its sleeve a bit.

The digital dash cluster theme, for example, seems to (poorly) emulate the Mercedes-Benz software, the little plastic crystal shifter piece on the inside seems to have been overtly influenced by a similar (actual crystal) piece available in Volvos, while the centre screen and dual wireless phone chargers are pretty obviously BYD’s take on the similar bits available in the Model 3.

Maybe in this sense, it’s trying a little too hard to be a luxury car and a tech-heavy electric vehicle, with items which aren’t quite up to the same quality (particularly the software). But then, it all works well enough, and can you complain at the price?

One thing I think BYD gets right though is the level of comfort on offer in the cabin and the clever little styling bits which remind you of its namesake.

The door handle pieces and integrated speaker bits are shaped like a Seal flipper. As are the dash-mounted air vents, and if you look closely even the plastic garnish on the steering wheel looks a bit like a top-down cross section of the animal.

I like it because its subtle rather than in-your-face as some of the Atto 3's design elements are.

The quality is also up to muster, big time. There wasn’t a creak, groan, or rattle from this car’s interior in my entire time with it, including on some of Sydney's worst roads. And the seats, which are designed like absolute thrones, are clad in lovely soft leather. You sink into them. Even the two-tone Alcantara finish through the doors and centre console is thoughtfully placed.

The Prius is the very visage of economic motoring. Derided by big-engine lovers, and adored by the eco-crowd, the fact that the Prius’s wedge-shaped frame is more about function than form tells you everything you need to know about this car.

It blends with Toyota’s latest design language, the face and bodywork containing some subtle nods to other models that would launch after it, like the Corolla, Camry, and C-HR.

What always surprises me about even this top-spec Prius is its dorky ride height. For a car with such a low drag coefficient, it sits so far off the ground! The 17-inch wheels look almost out of alignment with the body in those wheelarches.

Round the back, the Prius’s integrated spoiler and glasshouse bodywork are as divisive as ever, with more extreme pointed light fittings leaning into the effect created by its boxy, rear three-quarter view and mirroring the shape of the LED headlights at the front.

Of course, this car is less about being looked at as it is about its drag coefficient of 0.24 Cd, which is one of the lowest on any production car.

Inside, things again prove divisive, with a minimalist dash, a swoopy gloss highlight piece that frames the central vents and multimedia screen, and an odd, centrally mounted dash cluster, which is a usability faux pas.

In the case of the I-Tech at least there’s a holographic display which can put up useful information to help prevent your eyes from drifting too far from the road. Still, I can’t help but feel like this whole interior ethos is futuristic for the sake of being futuristic, with a little less thought given to how practical it is, compared to the brand’s other models.

The leather-appointed trim across the wheel and soft plastics in the door and dash-topper are appreciated, and there’s attention to detail in the little ‘Prius’ logos on the vents. However, I found the dull multimedia screen to be susceptible to glare during the day, and the big integrated panel in which it sits is made from a tinny gloss plastic, which will easily to get covered in fingerprints and scratches.

The Seal has a huge cabin, and in a lot of ways it feels like the large sedans of old. You can sit nice and low in the cabin, and there’s heaps of knee and headroom thanks to its width.

Soft-clad materials for resting your knees and elbows on go a long way towards keeping this car comfortable on longer journeys, and the presence of a digital dash and a holographic head-up display is nice to have compared to the bare-bones dash of the Tesla Model 3.

The wacky rotating central touchscreen feature makes an appearance from other BYDs, but again, it’s a bit silly and I’m not sure how much use you’ll get out of it. Even Apple CarPlay only works in landscape mode, so I didn’t find it useful.

Practicality features are abundant, with a large bottle holder in the doors, and two more in the centre console. One even has a floating floor, so you can push it down to accommodate large bottles if need be.

Dual wireless chargers are always a nice touch, and the bridge-style console has a large pass-through storage area underneath, which also hides the USB-C, USB-A, and 12V outlets. The armrest console box is nice and deep, too.

The back seat is enormous. Possibly one of the largest spaces in this segment. It comes at a cost to boot capacity, but your rear passengers won’t want for space no matter how tall they are.

At 182cm tall I had leagues of airspace behind my own driving position, and the wide cabin, accommodating seats, and flat floor mean the centre position is even useful for a full-sized adult.

Storage comes in the form of three pockets on the back of each front seat, a large bottle holder in the doors, two cupholders in the drop-down armrests, a small tray on the back of the centre console, and a small flip-out cover which reveals a USB-C and USB-A charging port for rear passengers. The rear seat even gets dual adjustable air vents, but no third climate zone.

The massive fixed glass roof looks the business and keeps the cabin airy, just like in the Model 3 and Polestar 2, but I find these big glass fittings tend to cook interiors in the Australian sun.

BYD tells us the tint is so heavy it has a ‘solar transmittance’ of just 16 per cent, but 16 per cent is still a lot in Australian summer. Thankfully, unlike its two rivals, BYD ships the Seal with a fold-out cover screen as standard.

Remember how I said the massive rear seat comes at a cost to boot space? At 400 litres the Seal’s boot is a bit compact, made worse by the fact it’s a sedan and not a liftback, so the access area is a bit narrow.

It could only fit the largest CarsGuide luggage case alongside the smallest one, but not all three including the medium case. This could be a blow to family buyers who need to fit a pram alongside other things.

Under the floor there’s an extra space great for the storage of your V2L adapter and AC charging cable, but there’s also only a tyre repair kit and no spare.

If nothing else, all of the Prius’s edgy design gives it plentiful interior space. Toyota granted this generation of Prius a low seating position and tall roof, which combine with the distant dash elements to make for a spacious cockpit for the front two occupants.

The seat design in the top-spec I-Tech is also cushy, reminiscent of the seats in high-spec Camrys, and I had absolutely no trouble finding a comfortable driving position. If there’s one thing to be said for the annoying, centrally mounted instruments, it’s that you don’t need to consider the position of the wheel interfering with their visibility.

The Prius’s total glasshouse grants superb visibility out the front and sides, with large wing-mirrors, too. The only downside is that integrated spoiler at the back, which makes for a distracting view out the rear mirror that I’m sure any owner will quickly become accustomed to.

Soft trims across the doors and centre console, even in the back seat, make the Prius cabin a comfortable place to be, too.

Ergonomics have not been forgotten, with the multimedia screen and climate unit having useful and easy-to-reach physical dials and toggles for all the key functions. Even changing gear is a breeze in the Prius, with its odd little rosebud-shaped shifter simply a flick of the wrist from where your arm sits.

I do wish Toyota had made better use of the large area under the climate unit, however. The front part of the centre console is exclusively for the wireless-charging bay alone, and the rest of the space is constructed from a smoothly contoured gloss-finish plastic panel. It has looks to match the Prius aesthetic, but it’s no good for storing anything other than a single phone. It would have been better to make a large bay here with a rubberised finish.

Thanks to the lack of a physical handbrake in the centre or any other buttons or functions, there are two large bottle holders with variable edges.

A huge centre-console box and large door bins round out the Prius’s front-seat storage options.

Room in the rear seat is excellent, my 182cm tall frame had stellar amounts of space for my legs and head, as the roofline continues through to that raised rear spoiler. The comfy seat trim continues, although the padding in the base is notably not as good as it is in the front.

There are some useful pockets on the backs of the front seats and a drop-down armrest with cupholders for rear passengers, too.

Finally, the awkward rear of the Prius makes for a fantastic boot capacity, one advantage this car still holds over its hybrid Toyota stablemates. Capacity for the I-Tech is a mid-size-SUV rivalling 502-litres (VDA), which easily consumed our CarsGuide test luggage set and is even bigger than the base Prius, at the cost of the space-saver spare wheel. The I-Tech only has a repair kit to go with its larger alloys.

This Toyota Prius in top-spec I-Tech form costs a whopping $45,825 before on-road costs, which is a tall order, especially given the fact that the technical advantage this car once had to help justify its price-tag has been lost to the rest of Toyota’s range.

An equivalent Corolla hybrid, even in top ZR trim, can be had from just $34,695, and even the much larger Camry in its highest hybrid SL trim is more affordable, at a suddenly cheap-looking $42,790. All three Toyotas are sourced from Japan.

Not a good start in the value battle, then, especially since those other Toyotas are not just hybrids, but great cars in their respective segments.

The Prius I-Tech’s most direct rival is the similarly shaped and sized Hyundai Ioniq Premium, which can be yours from $40,390 with competitive equipment. Hyundai is not only hunting Toyota with this car, but flexing its deep pockets by selling the Ioniq in Australia as not just a hybrid, but a PHEV and a full EV, too.

Thankfully, the I-Tech comes with some decent gear, sporting 17-inch alloy wheels, a 7.0-inch multimedia touchscreen with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto connectivity, digital radio, a 4.2-inch digital information display, a holographic head-up display, full LED lighting with auto-levelling, leather-appointed seat trim, auto dimming rear vision mirror, wireless phone charging, 10-speaker audio, and improved interior trims over the base car.

The I-Tech also scores a larger boot capacity and an improved safety suite compared to the base Prius. More on that in later sections of this review.

Is the Prius “good value” then? It's still a no, as all of this equipment can be had in bigger, more mainstream Toyota models, and far more affordable rivals. It’s a shame Toyota hasn’t brought the Prius’s cost down in the five years since this generation launched, because in today’s market it makes less sense than ever.

That said, there is a certain niche audience for this car. One that will always love its little innovations, like the fact that it has one of the lowest drag coefficients on the market, its stellar fuel-consumption number, and its claimed 40 per cent thermal efficiency.

Each Seal variant gets its own drivetrain outputs, and the mid-spec Premium drives the rear wheels with a 230kW/360Nm electric motor via a reduction gear.

On paper, it’s slightly more powerful than the Model 3 RWD, with more power and less torque than the Polestar 2 Standard Range.

It wouldn’t be a Prius without Toyota’s signature hybrid synergy drive technology. In this most original case it consists of a 1.8-litre four-cylinder petrol engine, which uses the more thermally efficient but less powerful Atkinson combustion cycle, producing 72kW/142Nm, paired to a set of electric motors on the front axle, which can produce up to 53kW/163Nm.

Combined system output is rated by Toyota at 90kW, driving the front wheels only via a continuously variable automatic transmission (CVT). This system is the same one now also employed in the C-HR and Corolla hybrid grades.

The Prius’s electric motors source their power from an older design nickel-metal hydride battery (instead of the more modern lithium-ion setup) located under the boot floor.

Providing power is a sizable 82.56kWh lithium-ion battery pack, using BYD’s signature weight and space-saving ‘Blade’ form-factor, and the more affordable LFP (lithium iron ferrophosphate) chemistry.

On the charging front, the Seal Premium can top up at 150kW on a DC unit (using a Type 2 CCS connector) for a 10-80 per cent charge in roughly 40 minutes, while on AC its a disappointing 7.0kW.

The 7.0kW inverter means it’s hardly worth plugging the Seal in at a slow public charger when you visit the shops, as you’ll only get about 50km of range an hour. It’s for this reason most cars with batteries this size have 11kW inverters.

Unlike the Model 3 or Polestar 2, though, the Seal features a V2L system, allowing you to power household appliances from its Type 2 charging port.

Claimed energy consumption for the Seal is 14.6kWh/100km which is low, and about what we were seeing on test. It’s a little hard to tell because the trip computer only offers total consumption over the entire life of the vehicle, or for the last 50km, but not for a set trip interval. Weird.

The Prius’ sandpapered hybrid drive, low drag number, weight reductions, and low-rolling-resistance tyres add up for a stellar official/combined fuel-consumption figure of just 3.4L/100km. While its signature hybrid tech might be available on other Toyota’s, it’s here where the Prius still shines, undercutting the others by almost a whole litre every 100km.

But can it live up to that promise in the real world? Over my week of what I would consider to be reasonable ‘combined’ driving conditions; with plenty of traffic, freeways, and suburban driving, the Prius returned a stellar figure of just 4.0L/100km. This is not just one of the lowest figures I have ever achieved on a test car, it is even lower than the Corolla Hybrid that I tested over a three-month period. I couldn’t get that car below 4.9L/100km, despite by best attempts.

For a true rival comparison, my week-long test of the Ioniq hybrid in 2019 had the Korean managing a fuel number of 4.6L/100km.

You need not worry about kWh energy consumption for the Prius, as its hybrid system’s software manages the state of battery charge on the fly. It will simply run the engine to charge the battery if levels drop too low, although it always feels good to make the most of the motor’s regenerative braking to keep the battery topped up.

It’s clear that the Prius is still the king of hybrid, then. At least for the time being. All Prius models have 43-litre fuel capacities and are able to consume base-grade 91RON unleaded.

I wasn’t expecting the Seal to impress me particularly. After all, it’s in this segment against tough competition, amongst recently updated versions of the Model 3 and Polestar 2, and while the previous BYDs I’ve driven have been a cut above their Chinese contemporaries, they also haven’t done a lot to stand out from the crowd.

Clearly, though, BYD has something to prove with its sporting sedan and the Seal is immediately impressive. The cabin is quiet and refined, the seating position is great it's smooth from take-off.

The steering has an artificial tinge to it removing a bit of feedback from the road, but proves at least quick and accurate at speed, and the handling is superb.

I kept pushing the Seal in my test drive, expecting gnarly characteristics to surface but they didn’t. This sedan grabs onto the road with excellent control and traction at the rear, spurred along by its long wheelbase, and improved tyre choice (Continental rather than the sub-par Chinese rubber worn by the Atto 3 and Dolphin).

While on paper it appears to have at least comparable motor output figures to the Polestar 2 and Model 3 - the Seal Premium doesn’t quite feel as rapid, its electric motor having a more relaxed vibe and responsiveness when you stomp on the go pedal.

This can be tweaked a little by dialling it up to Sport mode, and while it still doesn’t feel quite as breakneck fast as the Model 3, in particular, it’s plenty to be going on with.

The most impressive part of the Seal drive experience, though, is its ride. Ride is a constant problem for EVs as manufacturers go to lengths to tame the additional weight of batteries, but the Seal is the most impressive in its cohort, and by quite a margin.

It’s firm enough to be controlled, but has a lovely soft edge to it, so larger bumps, frequent corrugations, or sharper road imperfections don’t ruin your day.

The Model 3 and Polestar 2, even in their improved forms, are not this good. In a lot of ways the Seal’s suspension tune reminds me of the Mustang Mach-e. It has a soft edge, offset by a bit of secondary jiggle as the car settles, which is its only real blemish.

The Seal has no right being this good. It’s now not just matching its far more established rivals but doing some things significantly better.

The Prius was responsible for popularising Toyota’s Hybrid Synergy Drive, and fittingly, it still feels like the best execution of the technology on the market. That instantly available torque from the electric motor is sleek, quiet, and easy. It feels as though the Prius can make more extended use of purely electric drive than not only its rivals, but all other Toyota and Lexus hybrid products.

Despite its awkward exterior looks, the ride and handling of the Prius are excellent, thanks to its robust TNGA-C underpinnings (in fact, the Prius was the car to debut this platform for Toyota). It tilts into corners nicely, despite a frumpy ride height, and deals with bumps in its stride. This is a comfortable car, and the Lexus influence here is undeniable. The steering characteristics are also smooth and responsive. I wouldn’t go so far as to say the Prius is fun to drive, but it is certainly comfortable and compliant.

What the Prius lacks is the lower, firmer, and more aggressive ride and handling characteristics of its Hyundai Ioniq rival, perhaps a telling insight into the trajectory of each brand.

These characteristics add up to an around-town driving experience that really is a breeze. It’s quiet in the cabin and at times genuinely hard to tell whether the car is using its electric motors or the engine. When it comes to bursts of acceleration, the Prius might surprise you. Using both the motor and engine in tandem, I found that the Prius can sprint from the line with an alarming urgency, more so than its Corolla sibling. With the same tech behind the accelerator pedal, it’s hard to imagine why.

Once the electric motor has reached its strictly defined limit, though, the engine breaks in with a vengeance, and this car does have an anaemic follow-through when the electric components fall to the wayside. As in other applications of this drivetrain, the 1.8-litre Atkinson-cycle petrol engine can be thrashy and noisy when a lot is asked of it.

Of course, driving in such a sporty manner is hardly the point of the Prius, and where it really excels is in that day-to-day traffic grind, where the hybrid system works largely in the background to maximise the time spent with the engine off. The best part? While you can really fall into the hybrid system’s addictive fuel-saving displays, which really encourage hypermiling, this is a set-and-forget system. You can drive the Prius like any other car, and it will be trim on fuel consumption anyway. It’s not like I was trying awfully hard to attain my weekly figure of 4.0L/100km, so I’m sure it can do better over the long term.

The Prius wears a maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating to the 2016 standards, although even in today’s market it has a great active-safety suite.

Standard modern active features on all Prius models include freeway-speed auto emergency braking with pedestrian and daytime cyclist detection, lane-keep assist with lane-departure warning, adaptive cruise control, traffic-sign recognition, and auto-high beams. Our top-spec I-Tech adds blind-spot monitoring and rear cross traffic alert, for an overall excellent suite.

All Prius varaints are also equipped with seven airbags consisting of the standard front, side, and head, as well as a driver’s knee airbag, and the standard array of electronic stability and brake controls are also present.

The long-term ownership aspect for a BYD product is still a bit of a mystery as the current crop of cars have only just landed in Australia in the last year or two, but if it offers you any peace of mind, the Seal is covered by a six-year/150,000km warranty with a separate eight-year/160,000km warranty for the battery pack.

In order to avoid having to have a traditional dealer network, BYD has partnered with MyCar to fulfil servicing. Visits to one of these locations is required once every 12 months or 20,000km whichever comes first, and pricing is fixed for the first eight years, working out to an annual average of $299.

Toyota’s range-wide warranty currently stands at five years or unlimited kilometres, which is really the accepted industry standard and matches its key Ioniq rival.

Annoyingly, however, the Prius needs to adhere to six-monthly or 10,000km service intervals. Said intervals are capped to $165 per visit for the first six visits under Toyota’s “service advantage” program, after which time you fall back to Toyota genuine servicing with significant price hikes to $221.97, and $425.47 for the next two services covering four years or 80,000km.

A year of roadside assist is included, after which time you will need to subscribe to Toyota’s program, from $89 a year.

While Toyota’s offering is on par with many, it’s hardly the cheapest or most comprehensive we’ve seen.