Mercedes-Benz EQS vs Rolls-Royce Ghost

What's the difference?

It’s unquestionably fast, certainly luxurious, but I’ll be honest, I don’t think the EQS is going to be for everyone. The styling will be challenging for some and the glittery interior tech offering might be a bit much, even for the more rusted-on Benz traditionalists.

Then again, shouldn't an electrified flagship be all about challenging the status quo, trying new ideas, and bringing new fans to the brand? If anything, I think that might be what the EQS does best.

In a disruptive era when the coachbuilder has pivoted to SUVs like the Cullinan, a sort of London black cab that’s been dipped in opulence, and succeeds despite itself, and the brand’s grand, million-dollar EV, the Spectre, the Ghost is a safe and familiar space. 

A beautiful, long, broad, immaculate land boat. It’s a space Rolls inhabits with relish. 

The Ghost Series II feels nothing like a track-day option when you’re behind the wheel. But it might do if you were stepping out of a Phantom. Or a Cullinan. Or a Wraith. Especially if you’re stepping out of the back doors. 

It’s the perfect driver’s car. As long as all your other cars are also Rolls-Royces. 

We’re going to start with design, because from the outset it is a topic which simply must be addressed.

Mercedes has flipped the script when it comes to its next-generation design language worn by its dedicated range of ‘EQ’ electric cars. It follows a trend we’re seeing across the industry of larger, more amorphous vehicles which need the space to accommodate batteries, but also the aerodynamic traits to extend driving range and keep energy efficiency as high as possible.

The issue when it comes to the EQS is it essentially puts the iconic S-Class shape, refined over generations, in the bin, and replaces it with something a bit more challenging to the eye.

Gone are the angles, louvres, and deeply three-dimensional grilles, replaced by sleek rounded edges, wheels which reach to the very edges of the chassis, a blank, almost plasticky grille and a more liftback-like profile than one of a traditional sedan.

You’d better get used to it, too, because the smaller EQE is near identical in shape, a trend which will no doubt continue across other EQ models.

It’s the finer details that add character, particularly for the 53 with its AMG-leanings. The lack of shapeliness down the side makes the massive 22-inch wheels stand out more, and the rear three-quarter might be this car’s best angle, with a colour-matching spoiler flicking up off the small bootlid, and delicate badgework illustrating this car’s place in the world. Our car, which appeared in a silver shade timeless on Mercedes-Benz models, made the black AMG highlights on the front and rear bumpers shine, and some of the usual Benz shape is claimed back through the EQS’s LED light profile, both at the front and rear.

There’s no doubt it’s a step into the future, and an overall shape which is a marriage of both form and function. While looks are always subjective, I still think it may be a hard sell, even to some of the most committed fans of Mercedes design.

Yes, its exterior is more monolithic than before. The previous iteration was hardly fiddly, but the (apparently client driven) evolution here edges ever so gracefully towards what Rolls-Royce might secretly think of as brutalism.

The Ghost Series II’s generous 2148mm width is further emphasised up front, stretched across its upright prow, with slimline headlights adding definition and — surprisingly — a touch of villainy.

New, Spectre-inspired tail lamps and a discreetly inscribed double ‘R’ monogram add a reserved flourish from behind, and buyers can choose from two new 22-inch, nine-spoke wheel designs.

It’s subtle, no doubt. But it’s also impeccable.

The EQS is enormous, so it’s a good thing there’s huge amounts of interior space, even for what is ostensibly an S-Class, and with its bespoke electrified underpinnings, it also scores the kinds of innovations we like to see from electric cars.

These include things like a huge cutaway under the floating dash for extra storage, which the brand has seen fit to add elastic tie-downs so your objects don’t go flying in corners!

Storage up front is otherwise excellent with decent bins in the doors with height-limited sections for bottles, a flip open tray which houses the wireless charger and a set of fold-away bottle holders, and split-opening armrest console box which is deep and features yet another set of USB-C outlets.

Adjustability is great for front passengers, but ergonomically I found something a little weird about the digital dash. For me to rest my arms and hold the wheel, I had to set it so low the top of the wheel obscured the instruments, and if I set it high enough to see the full cluster, to comfortably hold the wheel my elbows would need to float above the armrests. Weird.

It doesn’t end there for the entirely touch-based controls either. While the (admittedly very cool-looking) wheel is packed full of buttons and touch sliders, they require near-surgical precision to operate with your thumbs, distracting while you’re driving, and the enormous centre screen’s main drawback is the fact CarPlay, for example, was not designed for the buttons and functions on the far left to be a metre away from where the driver’s hand is. Again, it’s distracting to have to lean out of your seat to hit the ‘back’ button on most context menus.

I would like to tell you at this point the Mercedes-Benz menus are mercifully simple to aid you with such an overwhelming system, but this isn’t true either. For some reason, there’s a ‘vehicle settings’ menu accessed easily through the main panel, or another menu with a separate set of key functions activated by a car-shaped shortcut button on the floating console. Why? Why aren’t these menus the same? I discovered this in my attempts to use the ‘raise vehicle’ function when faced with a steep driveway. You’re going to need to use this function often in a car measuring over 5.2 metres long, so hiding it in a confusing menu is an interesting choice.

The back seat is where the EQS should shine, and in terms of space it’s stellar. I can barely touch the seat in front of me when set to my own (182cm tall) driving position. It comes with some soft pillows which attach to the headrests, the sunroof extends back there nicely while not impeding on the great headroom, and the lavish trims all continue into the doors and seat bases, too.

The drop-down armrest has a trick pop-out bottle holder in it, and there are a further two on the doors. Amenity-wise rear passengers score four adjustable air vents with two climate zones adjusted via their own touch-panel, but I was interested to see there was a lack of screens back there.

This is particularly notable as most S-Classes are bought to be driven in rather than to drive, and the screens are so much in the front, I was expecting a matching offering for rear travellers. Not so.

You also can’t adjust the rear seats at all, and unlike some EVs coming out in this space, there’s no recliner mode for the full business-class experience.

The boot is much larger than in the smaller EQE, with the EQS making use of its extended dimensions nicely. The floor is fully flat, and has a secret compartment underneath for the storage of both your included Type 2 to Type 2 public AC charging cable, and Type 2 to wall-socket converter for garage charging.

With a total space of 580 litres, the EQS comfortably consumed our entire CarsGuide luggage set with space to spare.

Inside, yes, there are bonkers touches in this most refined of automotive spaces, such as upholstery pinpricked by 107,000 'Placed Perforations' of 1.2mm in diameter, each individually examined, that replicate the shape of some clouds spotted over Rolls-Royce's Goodwood HQ. 

Beside those flourishes of lunatic opulence, the more practical features feel pedestrian, but they’re comprehensive. The wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, the seamless 'Central Information Display' and the 18-speaker 1400-watt audio, the upgraded Wi-Fi hotspot and the unobtrusive USB-C ports. The rear-seats flush with giant, streaming-optimised screens and heated and ventilated massaging seats.

Rolls acknowledges the generational movement of its clientele from back seat to front, with over 90 per cent of buyers now opting to — gasp! — steer themselves in a Ghost. But with back-seat savoir faire in its DNA, Rolls simply extends its hospitality to every seat.

The Ghost Series II is yours for an indicative price of just $680,000 (or $800K for the Black Badge) plus substantial on-road costs. The Ghost Series II extended (which we didn’t drive at the international launch in Provence) will slip in at around $20K less than the Black Badge before additional charges. 

If they seem like big numbers, you’re probably the sort of person who looks at price tags, or who shops in shops that put price tags on things. These are not common traits of Rolls-Royce buyers, who may only be vaguely aware of the actual price of their vehicle, and whose historical impression of guillotines is generally unfavourable.

So, high six-hundreds is table stakes.

But you might also think the ‘standard’ Ghost, like all Rolls-Royces, is considered by most buyers to be a mere starting point, from which they’ll typically up-spec their ride from a sumptuous and expensive options list.

Spending another 10 percent of the purchase price on customisation is a bare-bones outlay for most owners, but even so, the evolved Ghost’s out-of-the-box features are so comprehensive as to be almost overwhelming. 

First, because the Ghost has been Rolls-Royce’s driver’s car since the first (modern) generation arrived in 2010, specifically to cater to a weird (for Rolls clientele) new generation of buyers who wanted to drive their Rolls themselves. 

So that price gets you, above all, that proven but superb 6.75-litre twin-turbo V12 engine, massaged via an eight-speed transmission and an AWD system that’s as rich and viscous as Crassus’s last libation.

There’s its subtly tinkered 'flight on land' 'Planar Suspension System' (note the unspoken dissonance between the terms ‘flight on land’ and ‘driver-focused'), with an ingenious 'Satellite Aided Transmission' system that uses GPS to pick the ideal gear with which to launch out of turns.

It works hand-in-velvet-glove with Goodwood's 'Flagbearer' camera system, which tracks the road ahead to chide potholes into submission in advance.

Because it’s a Rolls, though, that’s barely even the start of the story. 

The coachwork is extraordinary, with new trim options including natural open-pore 'Grey Stained Ash' design elements, a sumptuous new bamboo rayon textile called 'Duality Twill'.

There a night-sky inspired illuminated fascia that apes elements of time-lapse celestial photography, part of the central glass panel that stretches the length of the dash. 

Sure, you might expect that level of detail for the outlay. But for the outlay it’s far from missing anything you’d expect.

In the electric era, do performance figures matter? AMG would argue a resounding ‘yes’ although I would argue the art for premium automakers like Mercedes is now in producing suspension setups that can handle the weight of batteries.

Regardless, the EQS has a dual-motor setup, capable of providing a whopping 484kW/950Nm in its standard form, or an even more incredible 560kW/1020Nm with the Dynamic Plus package. Look, you’re spending over $328,000 already, what’s an extra $8k or so to put pretty much any other four-wheeled object in your rear-vision mirror? With the Dynamic Package, a sprint time of 3.4 seconds is… brutal.

The four-wheel drive system is necessary to keep all that power under control. While some enthusiasts may be turned-off by the four-wheel steer function, I’d read on to the driving section to see why it’s not only worth having (try turning a 5.2-meter long sedan around without it) but also not as intrusive as you think it’s going to be in the corners.

Rolls doesn’t like acceleration figures — too gauche, darling — but armed with that proven 420kW and 850Nm V12, the Ghost Series II has serious heft. Delivering max torque from 1600rpm — just 600rpm above idle — the effect is genuinely of one endless surge, a wafting cloud of momentum that subtly slips between gears as it exudes itself across the countryside.

The Black Badge edition, like all of its, er, ‘disruptive’ ilk offers a ‘Low’ button (‘Low’ means ‘Sport’ in Rollspeak), which bumps gearshift speeds by 50 percent when you plant your foot, and delivers a distinctly non-Rolls-like pop and burble on overrun. It also provides an extra 21kW and 50Nm, because Black Badge is mean and tough.

Even at the official energy consumption of 23kWh/100km, the EQS’ drivetrain is essentially the electric equivalent of wielding a massive V8 under the hood. It’s not by any measure impressive, but then, with 107.8kWh of lithium batteries under the floor, it’s perhaps impressive it’s not worse than an Audi e-tron, particularly since the EQS weighs in at nearly three tonnes.

The battery is one of the largest on the market in Australia, offering the EQS a driving range of 585km on the WLTP cycle. Very impressive.

On the charging front, the EQS can charge at up to 200kW on DC thanks to an advanced cooling system, and on AC charges at 11kW in its stock form or 22kW with an optional $2490 upgrade. Again, at $328k, why wouldn’t you want the best charging system you can get for so little extra?

You can also package in a Mercedes-Benz branded wallbox for your home garage, valued at $1450 before installation costs.

To give you an idea of charging times: Expect a little over two hours (from 10 per cent) on a common 50kW DC public charger, nearly ten hours from an 11kW AC public charger, and a number not even worth mentioning from a home wall socket.

Provence is not entirely a driver’s paradise, with every stretch of slightly twisty tarmac only a counterpoint to a motorway lined with Marseille lorries, Depardieu-esque men in tractors who refuse to move to the verge, and small villages where each kerbside corners sit millimetres from the foot of an adjacent boulangerie.

Which is to say it’s neither a place for economy runs, nor a location at which to run up the consumption numbers with a madcap series of impromptu hill climbs.

Our Ghost II drive returned around 16L/100km, which feels about right with that gorilla-in-a-tuxedo 6.75L V12, and is only slightly above the official figures of 15.8L/100km. Not great, could be worse.

The EQS is quite surreal to drive, and you’ll notice a whole bunch of odd things first.

Immediately the driving position will be surprising. It’s nothing like what a traditional sedan feels like. This is because you sit high in the EQS. This helps facilitate extra under-floor space for the batteries, but the way Benz puts it, this driving position is deliberately SUV-like to grant buyers the more desirable view of the road which they now (apparently) seek.

It has some oddities, as mentioned earlier, with the fixed digital instrument cluster, and the way the wheel can block it depending on your height, but on the whole I found visibility in the EQS to be pretty good, despite limitations out the distant rear window.

Sound-wise AMG has created a bespoke soundscape for its electric models, two soundscapes, in fact. One sounds like a facsimile of a distant, digitised, V8 (weird) while the other is a bit more sci-fi. I can’t decide which one I really like, but props to the brand for thinking of individual sounds for things like accelerating, regenerative braking, as well as turning the car off and on. There’s even a humming tone for when the car is idling. 

AMG says “it doesn’t work without sound” and I suppose it does add some sort of feedback to the experience which would otherwise be missing. I’d rather have it than not I suppose is the take-away here.

The acceleration is completely over-the-top in Sport or Sport+, allowing you to move such a large vehicle forward in an almost comically quick fashion. It has the sudden urge of a Tesla, but with an element of grace that follows courtesy of the adaptive suspension which, not only settles the ride, but keeps the car comfortable.

It is the suspension though which sets cars like the EQS (and even rivals from BMW) apart from the likes of Tesla. The ride in the EQS is superb, befitting the heir apparent to the S-Class throne. It’s hard to find a ride so void of issues, particularly in the everyday Comfort drive-mode. It’s not just the fact I can’t complain about brutality from this car’s oversized 22-inch wheels, but also there has clearly been delicate work conducted to control the rebound, body-roll, and jiggle which can occur as a result of moving around a near-three-tonne chunk of aluminium, steel, lithium and leather at enthusiastic speeds.

This settled ride combines gloriously with the four-wheel steer system to make the EQS a keen corner carver, despite gravity constantly working against it.

I was surprised to find the four-wheel steer system to be pretty much identical in feel to the system also employed in the EQE and new C43, in that it is unobtrusive to the overall feel of the car, only helping to add a little extra turn-in to the corners when need be.

In a vehicle as long as the EQS it’s a bit more noticeable, and requires a moment of brain-adjustment, as the car (bizarrely) goes exactly where you point it, requiring no over- or under-adjustments, the grip from the enormously capable four-wheel drive system refusing to let any shift under sensible driving conditions. 

So, it’s comfortable enough to be an S-Class, fast enough to be an AMG, but I must say there is something a bit clinical about how it attacks the road. Missing some of theAMG drama we’ve become so used to from the brand’s combustion range, perhaps?

The Ghost Series II drives like a magic carpet, serene and untroubled; in almost any stable other than that of Rolls, calling it a ‘driver’s car’ would have you throttled by their skunkworks. Everything is relative.

Still, it hides its considerable dimensions well. There’s never any doubt that you’re in a large saloon, as you white-knuckle the Ghost’s impeccably appointed steering wheel, but there’s always enough power to deliver creamily instant throttle response, even in the case of initially misjudged cambers. 

Nor can the Black Badge hide the shimmy of that characteristic ‘flight on land’ body drift. The upside is that its manners are impeccable, even through the worst possible pieces of corrugation Provence can deliver. 

If anything, the Ghost Series II’s big-hearted bulk adds to the fun factor, especially in some of Rolls-Royce’s more garish colour options, when gasping South of France MAMILs stare in amazement as a bright yellow, five-and-a-half metre Rolls passes them on the outside, scattering their various baguettes and garlands of onions.

You get airbags, ESC, adaptive cruise, parking sensors and auto parking, and a rear camera. But don’t expect Rolls-Royce to allow the blighters at ANCAP to wreck one.

Like many electric cars, the warranty on the EQS is twofold. Firstly, there is the whole vehicle warranty, which from Mercedes-Benz is five years and unlimited kilometres, but the high-voltage battery is covered by a separate, and quite healthy, ten-year, 250,000km promise.

Benz throws in a three-year subscription to ChargeFox, offering owners free charging for the duration (to give you an idea, it cost me about $30 to charge the EQS to nearly full from 20 or so per cent).

Service intervals are surprisingly standard, at 12 months and 15,000km, and the EQS’ pre-paid service program is $1750 for three years, $2750 for four years, or $3250 for five-years, working out to about $650 a year. Far from the cheapest we’ve seen for an EV, but chump change for owners considering the up-front cost of this vehicle.

Expect just a four-year servicing and warranty offer for Australian customers of this vehicle. So that means an unlimited-mileage warranty, including all services, for the first four years.