Jaguar XF vs Mercedes-Benz X250

What's the difference?

If a Jaguar owner fell through a wormhole from 2003, the company they bought their car from would be   almost unrecognisable. Back then, it was a bewildering mess making an odd assortment of cars, yet to emerge into the light after Ford's confused and debilitating period of ownership. 

Why 2003? Fifteen years is a nice round number and pre-dates the arrival of the brand-saving XF.

Today, Jaguar has three SUVs, and the gorgeous F-Type, the XE, its second-generation XF and the big XJ. It has three SUVs (the F-Pace, E-Pace and I-Pace) because without them Jaguar would be a niche manufacturer before long, because big sedans, formerly the brand's trademark, are continuing their gentle decline. Oddly enough, one of the market segments contracting even faster than sedans is wagons. 

So what better time to launch into a draining pool from the three-metre board than now? Jaguar has bravely taken that risk and brought us the puzzlingly named XF Sportbrake.

Some of my favourite television shows or movies are flawed. When I talk to people about those films and about those flaws, there's a pattern - they don't know what they are and are therefore a bit confused. I don't know why that appeals to me, it just does.

Cars can be like that. There are some cars that aren't sure what they are. One of the exemplars of this is the Toyota C-HR - a small SUV aimed at young get-up-and-go types but bought almost exclusively by baby boomers, attracted to the badge. Young folks want more performance, lower cost and Apple CarPlay.

Hindsight suggests that the less-than-stellar sales performance of the much-heralded Mercedes ute, the X-Class, might be down to confusion. Mercedes thought it would be one thing and it turns out the market thinks it's another.