Ford Puma vs Tesla Cybertruck

What's the difference?

If a minimum price and maximum interior space are your priorities, then the Puma is not for you. Especially so in the flagship ST-Line V, which may seem too small and a tad cramped compared to, say, a Seltos, C-HR or ASX.

Where the Ford excels, typically, is in the way it encourages the keen driver while cosseting four occupants (and a surprising amount of their cargo). There's a poise and maturity to the way the Puma moves that puts it on a par with or even beyond some premium compact SUVs. Even the styling is a statement. If the badges (and dashboard) were covered, you might be convinced this cat is actually a Jag.

If all that is more important, then the ST-Line V is for you. The very antithesis, then, of the unassuming and unloved EcoSport the Puma usurps.

Weird, wild, unnecessary, arguably horrific to look at, or at least challenging, too fast, too silly, the Cybertruck is many things, but all of the bad things are obvious from a distance while you only realise just how impressive, clever and intense it is once you take it for a drive.

The drive-by-wire steering alone is a revolutionary bit of tech that will surely bleed into the wider world. 

Overall I thought I would hate it, but I walked away, head still shaking, with grudging respect approaching admiration for the Tesla Cybertruck.

If you search for the 1998 Puma coupe, you'll see some vague similarities with its modern SUV namesake, especially in their anthropomorphic face. It's in the eyes. There are also hints of Aston Martin (DBX), Porsche (Macan) and – let's face it – Mazda (CX-3).

Yet the real achievement lies in the way Ford has managed to make a 4.2-metre-long by 1.8m wide by 1.6m high crossover look so svelte, with the resulting balanced proportions, flowing lines and taut surfacing giving the Puma quite an athletic visual presence. After the EcoSport failure, head-turning looks were deemed paramount.

The extra girth gained by widening the Fiesta's platform allowed Ford's designers to create a muscular body that could also accommodate a metre-wide tailgate opening, while beneath the cargo floor is an exceptionally deep storage box, bringing better-than-expected practicality to boot.

Is there anything interesting about a Narwhal, or a rhinoceros? It’s hard to know whether to give the Tesla Cybertruck 10 out of 10 for how interesting its design is, or zero for how offensive it is, but it would certainly get a solid 20 out of 10 for uniqueness.

Sure, in pictures it looks pretty out there, but when you stand before it in all its shiny steel it makes you laugh out loud, to the point where it has taken your breath away.

And then you start to notice all the fingerprints on it. Every time you - or any of its many admirers - touches it, you get nasty, oily stains and keeping it clean would make looking after a car painted in a matte finish look as easy as sleeping. 

So, stainless steel as a choice for constructing a car? Perhaps there’s a reason no one else has ever followed the DeLorean’s lead here, but there’s no denying it grabs your eye, and provides a certain solidity to the whole structure.

Much like a Frank Gehry building, you’re either going to love the Cybertruck and think it a work of modern art, or dismiss it as a childish man’s fantasy made real (essentially that was the design brief for this vehicle, “make Elon a toy”, and it has nailed that brief), but either way you’ll definitely have strong feelings about it.

A car, or even a pick-up truck, with no round surfaces, nor subtlety of any kind, can’t really be described as beautiful in any way. But interesting? Definitely. 

Compact yet spacious, the ST-Line V's interior has strong as well as weak points.

Let's start with the latter. The most obvious connection with the Fiesta is in the Puma's dashboard, which is largely shared between the two. After all the effort expended on the design and chassis, this is somewhat disappointing. There's nothing wrong essentially with the fascia's aesthetics or functionality – it's just that the look is humdrum and dated. What's needed is something with the visual wow factor as found in the latest Peugeot 2008, especially at this price point.

Yet Ford has at least tried to put some tinsel inside this most expensive version of its smallest SUV.

Stitched perforated leather seat facings, carbon-fibre-look trim and soft vinyl coverings in key touchpoint areas bring an upmarket look and feel, backed up by a now-familiar digital instrumentation layout, a lovely flat-bottomed three-spoke steering wheel, easy and intuitive multimedia interface and a wireless phone charger. That electronic cluster, by the way, changes colour and markings but doesn't have the scope of multimedia displays of, say, Audi's Virtual Cockpit. It's comparatively rudimentary.

Conversely, there's a solidity and quietness as well, offering a level of refinement that's usually found in more-premium Euro alternatives. We weren't expecting that, though of course this is a German Ford product.

Our test car also boasted a vast glass opening sunroof, adding to the opulence. With all this gear, the ST-Line V's cabin is properly appealing.

On the practicality front, entry and egress is pretty good, the driving position is excellent (thanks in no small part to a big amount of adjustability for both the steering column and seats), the front cushions themselves are sumptuously enveloping, while wide door pockets and a big glovebox obviously come in useful. And there's a USB-C outlet in the centre cubby between the seats. How modern.

However, rear vision out is poor, there are no seat warmers and some of the lower-lying plastics are a bit drab.

The back seat isn't really suitable for people over 175cm, as kneeroom is limited and taller scalps may scrape the ceiling with the twin-pane sunroof in situ. The latter also means no overhead grab handles.

But the backrest angle and cushions themselves are fine, even for longer journeys. Just don't expect to squeeze a third adult in the back unless rubbing shoulders won't bug you. Note, too, that the rear cushion does not slide or tilt forward to allow for a lower load area when the backrest is folded down. Pity.

There is a receptacle in both doors for small bottles but no cupholders whatsoever (how can Ford call itself an American company?), or face-level air vents – though the large dash vent outputs do reach the rear. Amenities such as USBs and cupholders are AWOL; and vision out from back there is limited by the high shoulder line. Tough if you're trying to peer out. Sorry, Fido.

The Puma's overall compact footprint and rear packaging clearly suggest that this is aimed at singles, couples, or couples with smaller kids/pets to transport around.

Still, for a small SUV, the cargo area isn't bad at all. The standard floor depth is fairly generous, with a long and flat loading area, but below that is a narrower yet deeper waterproof area, while under that again is a space-saver spare wheel. Clever. Also intelligent is the luggage cover that lifts automatically with the tailgate, as per Mazda's CX-5.

For the record, cargo capacity is rated at 410 litres with the 60/40 split-fold rear seats erect – or 1170L with them folded down flat. These figures far outstrip the CX-3.

To sum the cabin experience… it's far-better than its Fiesta-sourced dashboard may suggest, while the ST-Line V treatment goes a long way in helping justify the premium. That's a win.

While the front and rear seats feel plenty spacious, that odd peaked baseball cap roof is a bit challenging in terms of headroom, and I smashed my noggin into it a few times trying to reach into the back seat for more Oreos and Mountain Dew. 

You can pop up the bench seat in the back to create even more space for storage, or to provide a flat floor to sleep on.

You can also lie an American sized pizza box on the vast swathe of dash between you and the wildly angled windscreen, there’s plenty more storage on the floor between you and the passenger and then more storage bins at your hip, as well. A wireless phone charger sits twinned with the spot where you park your Tesla card key.

It’s a practical, semi-rugged feeling space, but with the usual kind of Tesla less is more feeling, except when it comes to the screen, which is stupidly large and requires far too much input when you’re driving to be safe. And there’s still no speedometer where you need one, in front of your eyes, and no head-up display, despite Tesla’s love of other jet-fighter tech, like drive-by-wire steering.

How does one define value when it comes to the vehicular equivalent of a cockroach, one that seems capable of surviving the apocalypse with it indestructible (but possibly slightly rusty in appearance) stainless-steel exterior, HEPA filters (will protect you from pollution, pollen and “industrial fallout”) and (almost, kind of) bowling-ball proof super-strong windows (it can allegedly survive the impact of a baseball at 112km/h - handy if someone is trying to kill you with a baseball)?

And what price can you put on the kind of attention driving a Cybertruck gets you? Perhaps only a Bugatti or a Pagani could match the level of wide-eyed, slack-jawed excitement you see from other people when you drive this thing around. 

Then there’s the fact that it accelerates like an actual rocket, is allegedly so cosseted in the cabin that it’s “as quiet as outer space” (this is a comparison test I am up for, if Elon’s Space X would like to arrange it), and can tow “an average African elephant”, or 4,990kg, and has a 1134kg capacity in that vast rear tray, covered by a standard, automatic tonneau cover that’s so tough you can stand on it.

In that rear tray you’ll find a bottle opener, and some storage tubs with drainage holes to keep your beer cold or your fish frozen. You could sleep in there, on the composite bed, which is tough you don’t need a liner, but why would you when you can sleep in the truck - the dash is so large you could comfortably lie under the windscreen to sun yourself - using 'Sleep Mode', which runs the air con all night from its giant battery to keep it at your set temperature.

Speaking of your battery, you can also charge things with it using the integrated power outlets, and that includes the ability to charge another Tesla, or to re-zap your Tesla Powerwall at home and run your house during a blackout. Or the Apocalypse.

Tesla has put a price on all this, of course, and in America it ranges from US$81,895 to US$101,985. Frankly, that seems like quite good value when you add it all up, or at least it would if the Cybertruck really could tow five tonnes further than the end of the street, and if range - surely something of an issue for an outdoorsy vehicle like this - really could be guaranteed at 547km.

If and when it gets to Australia, of course, its value will need to be reassessed on what is sure to be a much, much larger number.

A multiple international engine-of-the-year winner, the compact and lightweight, 999cc 1.0-litre twin-cam three-cylinder turbo petrol unit is the sole choice for now. Driving the front wheels via a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission (DCT), it delivers 92kW of power and 170Nm of torque.

With no all-wheel drive option, there are instead five driving modes – Normal, Sport, Slippery (for snow) and Trail (gravel) applications, working on the traction, stability and transmission algorithms to mimic some of the benefits of AWD. In the ST-Line V, a set of paddle shifters are fitted in lieu of the sadly-absent manual gearbox.

Owners of the previous-shape Fiesta S and EcoSport would be familiar with the 1.0T's smooth and strident performance, though these 2010s models used a completely different type of DCT. This was the highly-publicised Powershift, which consisted of a dry-clutch system, and was prone to a multitude of problems and failures in the petrol-powered auto versions.

In contrast, the Puma adopts a next-generation transmission dubbed 7DCT300; related to the item found in some smaller Mercedes-Benz, Renault and Nissan models, it instead employs a more-robust wet-clutch system with a higher torque threshold, so promises to be far more durable and reliable than the problematic old dry-clutch unit.

Yes, I’m giving it 10. Because how could you want for more than a torque figure of 13959Nm, and a Ferrari-humbling 630kW of power to boot?

The Cybertruck is the perfect example of Elon Musk’s approach to what we’ll call science, or Twitter, or X. If it can be done, just do it, don’t ask whether it’s a good idea, or batshit insane.

So because he could fit a vast 123kWh battery and two crazy powerful motors to this pick up monster, and that could provide enough grunt to send three tonnes of mass to 100km/h in 2.8 seconds, they did. 

Is it wise? Probably not. Is it wild and almost, somehow, strangely admirable? Yep.

The Puma's official combined average fuel consumption figure is just 5.3 litres per 100km, which works out to 121 grams per kilometre. Fitted with a 42-litre fuel tank, the potential range averages out to almost 800km between refills.

Out in the real world, we managed an exceptional 6.2L/100km, no doubt helped by an ever-eager stop/start system (which, annoyingly, kills the air-con when it extinguishes the engine; we found ourselves constantly pressing that 'off' button as the days wore on). This figure was achieved in motorway-heavy driving scenarios, albeit loaded with holiday gear and with the air-con blaring.

So, we took another, urban-focused test, in lots of slow-moving traffic situations, and averaged a still-solid 8.0L/100km.

Note, that while the Puma requires 95 RON premium unleaded, it's also perfectly happy on – and is even recommended by Ford for – the cheapest petrol currently offered in Australia, 94 RON E10 unleaded. Either way, the ST-Line V is a frugal small SUV.

Tesla claims a range of 547km between charges and that even when towing something of “reasonable size” (a smaller Tesla perhaps) it will still get 400km. I, for one, very much doubt that.

Tesla also claims you can recover up to 235km of range with just 15 minutes of Tesla Supercharging, while a charge from 10 to 80 per cent on that same Supercharger would take 44 minutes. On a 110V American plug it would take 110 hours, or 4.5 days, to fully charge from zero to 100 per cent.

If the Puma's pricing is complicated, its cabin surprising accommodating and its real-world efficiency particularly parsimonious, then the upward trajectory of pros over cons continues with performance that's downright spirited.

Around town first. A small-displacement engine plus a turbo plus a DCT usually spell interminable spells of lag when all the driver longs for is an instant and measured response to a right foot flexing down onto the throttle.

But the Ford largely sidesteps such pitfalls. Though momentarily hesitant at take-off, the three-pot turbo does then get down to business in no time, with a sustained and satisfying surge of thrust as the revs grow, accompanied by a lusty and raspy thrum that's entirely in keeping with the Puma's track-pants appearance. And it doesn't let up either, with speed building up strongly through the gears, and much more so than the mere 999ccs suggest. Great for overtaking, or taking over a rapidly diminishing gap in the peak-hour derby.

Selecting Sport (a fiddly action that's located too far from the driver for safe eyes-on-the-road operation) lights an even bigger fire in the Puma's belly, with punchier acceleration and a very attentive transmission tune, slicing seamlessly through the seven ratios, leaving you in awe that a heart so small can possess such deep lungs.

Where the Ford really leaves an indelible mark is its enthusiasm to corner just as keenly, armed with brilliantly slick steering and a planted chassis that is set up to both encourage and interact with the driver. Minimal body roll and lots of grip from a quality quartet of Continental tyres ensure the Puma can be punted about like a sporty little hatchback, while the electronic safety tech allowing just enough leeway for lots of fun before they gently reel everything back into line.

We cannot think of a more enjoyable small SUV. And, by the way, those same driver-assist systems provide exceptionally nuanced lane-keep and adaptive cruise-control intervention – certainly they're right up there with the premium SUV brigade.

Given that our Puma wore 215/50R18 rubber, on a 'sports' suspension tune, the ride around town is commendable, with ample cushioning from the rough stuff. There is some tautness to the ride, but it isn't hard or rough; the ST-Line V walks a fine line between urban-agility and surface-decay isolation. In other words, it's commendably relaxing to travel in.

At higher speeds, some road and tyre noises do permeate through inside, and those Dumbo door mirrors do create some wind whoosh, but overall, given how dynamic the chassis is, the Puma feels grown up and sophisticated.

It’s fair to say the Tesla Cybertruck is an intimidating prospect in the metal. It towers over you and seems to stretch into forever, because it does, at 5.68m long (too long to fit in a standard Australian parking space). 

It’s also a full 2.0m wide, 1.8m tall and weighs 3.1 tonnes, but along with its size comes the fact that it just doesn’t look… right. There’s not a round surface on it but there are plenty you could cut yourself with, or lose a finger in.

It’s no less weird inside, as the giant A-pillars, vast dash, crazy yoke steering device and graphically lovely screen confront you, making it feel like you might be on the Starship Troopers ride at Universal Studios rather than in an LA car park.

Then, while you’re getting used to this and having a good laugh at the Easter egg on the touch screen (smash the windows on the graphic of the car with your finger and you hear the sound of Elon freaking out at the infamous failure demonstration of its unbreakable glass), you’re warned that it is going to be almost as weird to drive as it looks.

This is, in part, due to the Cybertruck’s unique drive-by-wire steering - a technology previously popular only with jet fighters and other planes - which allows it to have a yoke instead of a steering wheel without being annoying, because your hands will never cross over and be left grasping air.

Yes, the Infiniti Q50 debuted with 'steer-by-wire' a decade ago, but featured a full mechanical system as a fail-safe back-up. No mechanical safety net here.

The Cybertruck has less than one full turn lock-to-lock, and it has not just passive but aggressive rear wheel steering, allowing the back wheels to turn the opposite direction to the front ones at parking speeds, quite radically, which, once you’re used to it, makes it much easier to park than seems possible. 

It also makes this Tesla incredibly sharp and direct and means that, for the first few minutes of driving it you will turn the wheel, sorry, yoke, far more than necessary.

Once you get used to it, however, it is fabulous, as long as you don’t think about what would happen if the software that’s the only thing connecting you to the wheels - rather than actual moving parts - failed. 

The steering makes the Cybertruck shrink around you to the point where you forget, at times, just how big it is. Combined with the low centre of gravity and the bank vault solidity of the chassis, it also makes it turn-in and handle like a much smaller sports car (and it has a turning circle that defies belief, one that’s sharper than some sedans).

Speaking of sports cars, most of them won’t keep up with the Cybertruck if there’s someone brave in its driving seat. Indeed, you’d need a proper hypercar to match its constant, surging torque (no, I don’t believe it can really have 13,000-plus Newtons, but it’s a lot), and its purely outrageous, surging speed.

Tesla has a habit of calculating torque at the wheels, not the motor(s) and gearing reductions increase torque markedly. 

Yes, I do believe it would do 0 to 100km/h in three seconds, maybe slightly less, but I’m also equally sure it’s not a great idea to try (I'm also very grateful I didn't experience the problems with the throttle sticking open on some examples that recently saw every Cybertruck recalled).

The problem is that 3.0-tonne weight figure, and all that mass. It feels beyond weird to move something this big, that fast, and it quickly makes you pause for a chilling thought about whether it’s all going to be able to stop again. It does, or it did for me, but boy, it puts the wind up you every time you try.

Overall, though, it’s hard to overstate just how surprisingly good, and yes, at times even fun, the Cybertruck is to drive.

Oh, and for the trainspotters out there, claimed efficiency is 22.4kWh per 100km, but we actually saw 27kWh during our two days of test drives. Our second Cybertruck was also making some distinctly weird metallic clanking noises from underneath, particularly when we switched between forward and reverse.

It might be worth waiting for the second generation of this thing before buying one, but that won’t be an issue for Australian fans, anyway.

As far as its off-road abilities, we managed to find a bit of beach in a car park and pointed the Cybertruck at it. After an initial fearful moment of being sure we were going to sink, we just put the foot down and let all that torque power us out of trouble. It felt effortless.

Some unkind experts have referred to the Cybertruck as a “death machine” and a “guideless missile”, pointing out that putting a stainless steel body on top of a big old battery is inherently problematic. As is the lack of crumple zones.

Making all this very pointy metal move as fast as a McLaren supercar has also raised some questions about sanity.

Then there was the recent recall of every Cybertruck built so far:

"Cybertruck owners reported that their vehicles were at risk of getting stuck driving at full speed due to a loose accelerator pedal. Video showed the pedal itself falling off and the piece beneath wedging itself into the car’s interior, which would force the vehicle into maximum acceleration. One driver was able to save himself from a crash by holding down the brake pedal."

Elon Musk, has claimed, however, that the Cybertruck, is “much safer per mile” than its competitors. 

Australia has different pedestrian safety regulations to the US and while some have posited that the Cybertruck will pass, pointing to the fact that you can buy an even bigger Ram truck here, others are not so sure.

The Tesla Cybertruck does have six airbags, and a suite of active safety features as part of its 'Autopilot' system, but it does not yet have 'Full Self Driving'.