BYD Seal vs Toyota Prius C

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.

It's as if the the future is firmly rooted in the past at Toyota. The Prius is still undoubtedly clever, frugal and easy to drive, but it is feeling so old in places that the bad had begun to weigh on the good. If you're a tech-head or have a right foot crafted from lead, then there's nothing to see here. But if the thought of saving money at the bowser sets your heart aflutter, then step right this way.

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 good news is that it doesn't look quite so quirky as the full-size Prius. The not-as-good news is that it's still no beauty-contest winner. Not helping matters was the fact our test vehicle was painted in a retina-burning yellow (they call it Hornet Yellow, and it's new for 2018) that looked almost nuclear.

Viewed front on, the blacked-out section of grille and bumper gives the littlest Prius a vaguely manta ray-shaped front-end, while the headlights climb both upwards and back into the body, lending a sense of sportiness to this very unsporty hybrid. From the back, the chunky bumper, vertical taillights and rear windscreen spoiler all add a little attitude to the design.

Inside, you'll find a small but premium-in-places space, with a gloss-black stereo surround that angles the main controls toward the driver, while the digital driver's binnacle is pushed toward the centre of the car, displaying speed, fuel and other key info above the stereo, rather than in front of the steering wheel.

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.

Not very. This is a Yaris-based city car, let's not forget.

That said, it never feels cramped up front, with enough shoulder and headroom to ensure you feel separated from your fellow passengers, where you'll also find two cupholders, and an infuriating USB connection housed in the touchscreen - so your cord dangles from the dash when connected.

Climb into the back, and you'll find yourself in a pretty snug space. Sitting behind my own (5ft-8inch) driving position, it's only the scalloped back of the driver's seat that affords me any clear air between my knees and the seat in front, and the space behind my head and the roof lining is minuscule, too. But again, we're talking city car space here, so you can't expect to lounge about back there.

The ambience in the backseat leaves a little to be desired, though. The door trim pushes into the passenger space, and the plastics used in the rear are rock hard. There's a single cupholder to share, and a seat-back pocket on the rear of the passenger seat, but that's it; there's no vents, USB or power sources. There's no bottle-room in the rear doors, either.

An easy-access boot space will swallow 260 litres with the 60:40 rear seats in place. And there are two ISOFIX attachment points, one in each window seat in the back.

We've just spent a week behind the wheel of the Prius c i-Tech; the top model in the two-variant range, sitting above a cheaper model known simply as the Prius c.

At $26,540, it ain't cheap for a city car (and it's $4k more than the most-expensive Yaris on which it is based; more worryingly, it's only $1500 cheaper than an Audi A1), and the standard features list is more a novella than War and Peace.

Outside, you'll find 15-inch alloy wheels, remote unlocking, LED headlights and front fog lamps, while inside you'll leather-look seats (they're actually vinyl), sat-nav and climate-control.

Tech is covered by an  (old-school feeling) 6.1-inch touchscreen that pairs with a six-speaker stereo, but there's no Apple CarPlay or Android Auto.

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.

Under that little hood lives a 1.5-litre, four-cylinder petrol engine good for 54kW, which pairs with a 45kW electric motor. Toyota lists combined outputs at 74kW at 4800rpm and 111Nm at 4000rpm.

That hybrid setup partners with a CVT automatic, pumping power to the front wheels.

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.

If that last section didn't impress, this one surely will. The little Prius c will sip a claimed 3.9L/100km on the combined cycle.

That's very low, and the fact it accepts cheaper 91RON fuel makes it a very affordable car to run. Except... the onboard computers revealed a slightly less-impressive 5.1L/100km after my time with the car.

Emissions are a claimed 90g/km of CO2, which is very good.

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.

In much the same way that you don't buy an exotic performance car for its ability to run to the shops, you're unlikely to be buying the Prius for its ability to set your pulse racing.

But happily, it doesn't feel wobbly or disconnected, either. It's aided by being such a small package, and when you're not wafting silently about in electric mode, and you've coaxed that little petrol engine into life, it serves up more than enough poke to navigate the city, and even to leave the slow-reactors in your rear-view mirror at traffic lights.

The ride is good, too, feeling connected to the road below without feeling uncomfortable, although the little Prius does tend to track with the corrugations in the road, leaving you to wrestle it back into line. That's a job made easier by light and surprisingly direct steering, which feels tailor-made for the city.

Finally, the leather-look seats are comfortable, even over long distances, the razor-thin A-pillars make forward vision easy and it's a very simple thing to drive and manoeuvre  into parking spaces. And all of those are good things.

Not so good? Well, the entire drive experiences feels a little beige and emotionless, it can get noisy and there are parts of the cabin that feel downright cheap. Worst of all, though, is that for a car that once heralded the future, it's feeling very, very dated.

But there are some amazing quirks attached to driving an (almost) electric car, including the delivery of eco awards for using the least amount of fuel (they were awarded for 2.6, 3.2 and 3.6L/100km over as much as 25km - none of which occurred during my tenure). The hardest thing to get used to was the absolute silence served up in electric mode. I counted four seperate occasions when I walked away from the car with it still turned on.

Every Prius c arrives with seven airbags, along with a reversing camera and... wait, that can't be it, can it? Oh... Forget AEB, lane-departure warning and the like, this future-focused Prius has a safety package firmly rooted in the past.

It was awarded the maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating, but was tested back in 2014.

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 offers a three-year/100,000km warranty, while the batteries are covered for eight years or 160,000km. The car's six-month service intervals might sting a little, though, but with each service capped at $140 for the first three years, even taking two trips to the dealership a year isn't too expensive. Just annoying.