Mini Cooper vs Nissan Juke

What's the difference?

The new petrol Cooper range very gently evolves the upmarket Cool Britannia cliché BMW invented with the R50 back in 2001 and fostered with every iteration since.

More of the same, only slightly updated and just improved enough to justify trading the old one in. If this appeals to you, then go for it. This is the best petrol version yet. Probably.

But the Cooper’s real spark literally and metaphorically lies within the EV version.

Two very different Minis indeed.

Note: CarsGuide attended this event as a guest of the manufacturer, with meals provided.

The Juke is a fun little car. It looks cool, it packs most of the important features and safety equipment, but while it can be fun to drive, it’s also a little clunky around town.

It’s so frustrating, because there is a great car in there somewhere, and it would take only small tweaks and enhancements to bring it out.

You’ve got to hand it to BMW.

The new nose and triangular tail-light treatment on the 2013-vintage midsection look as if they were designed to all go together back in the day.

You could even mistake it for the previous Cooper EV, though side-by-side that’s less likely, since the latter ditches the upright windscreen for a more raked item, clamshell bonnet opening, horizontal bumper shutlines for shorter and more-angled ones, plastic wheel arch surrounds and pull-out door handles for flush units.

The wheels are further apart, the overhangs shorter and the lower-side surfacing broken up by an artful sheetmetal crease.

The overall length at 3876mm, width at 1744mm and height at 1432mm have increased by 55mm, 17mm and 18mm respectively over the old model, but the 2495mm wheelbase stays the same.

And that’s not all.

Urban style is clearly what the Juke is about. It’s always been about this, but the original incarnation, while unusual, was a bit bulbous and awkward. The current version is a razor-sharp re-interpretation of the original.

Ugly duckling no more, the Juke blends the elements of Nissan’s current design language with its own unique take, in a clever way.

The roofline and bulbous face of the original car, complete with its ‘eye’ headlights are all maintained, but this time they look more contemporary with a splash of chrome and gunmetal plastic in the face, offset by gloss blacks running down the doorline.

The new light fittings look great and the curviness is also gently off-set with some sharp angles. The massive 19-inch wheels finished in a two-tone gloss black and aluminium brush keep this car looking like a concept come to life. Just don’t crash them into the curb. It would be very easy to.

The cool elements continue inside, with rotary air vents, a blend of textures, including a gloss grey for the vent claddings, with white stitching for the wheel, seat, and into the door cards, too.

There are touches of chrome about the place, and an ambient red LED light surrounding the shifter, which sits on its own little pedestal thing.

It’s quirky and punches above its weight when it comes to soft trims in the doors. Like most higher-grade Nissans the seats are pretty comfy, too, clad in a hard-wearing synthetic leather material.

But it won’t be for everyone, and it’s not without its downsides. The abundance of grey plastic down the centre console is a bit cheap, and the tech offering doesn’t match the youthful style.

The centre screen is adequate, but compared to many rivals it’s a bit small and dull, and the Juke is still missing a digital overhaul for its instrument cluster.

The black headlining, usually reserved for sportier cars, makes the cabin feel smaller than it is.

The previous Mini 3DR featured a messy and quite overbearing dashboard design from 2013 that’s aged about as well as Robin Thicke’s videos from that year.

In contrast, the new model's is far simpler and less protruding, dramatically boosting the sense of space and light.

That said, all four occupants still sit low, with an upright windscreen ahead and beside high window sills. There’s an oversized, circular screen in the middle of a pared-back dash and a neat row of toggle switches below. It’s still pure Mini in theme.

As before, there’s enough space for even the tallest people up front, reflecting the British icon’s German packaging, with plenty of head and legroom, as well as ample width. It’s only when you jump from the EV to the petrol Cooper that you realise this feels noticeably narrower.

All Coopers regardless of fuel share the 240mm (9.4-inch) central OLED display. It might seem like visual overload at first glance, with so much going on, but after a brief period of familiarisation, the touchscreen becomes a cinch to decipher and navigate. The colour-coded driving modes, pleasingly slick screen swipe action and ultra-crisp graphics are especially noteworthy.

Revel, too, in the twist engine starter and toggle gear selector actions, that also save space and are super natural to operate. This is button-lite dashboard de-cluttering done right.

As with the previous model, the Mini’s driving position has you sitting upright, but it’s comfortable enough on the S’ sports seats we sampled this on, and everything is within reach. There’s sufficient storage. The ambient mood lighting is fun. And kudos for the deployment of animal-free materials. In fact, the Cooper’s fresh textures are quite remarkable.

We’re less fond of the glass roof with no sunlight block; there are blind spots due to the thick side pillars; and some of the lower-placed plastics do not seem $60K’s worth in a supermini this expensive.

Rear-seat access isn’t graceful, with a narrow aperture to squeeze past and a slow-moving electric seat to wait for, but that should surprise nobody given this car’s size. There’s enough space for two adults and not much else really. It’s pretty basic back there.

And even further back, Mini quotes just 210 litres VDA of luggage capacity, rising to 725L with the twin backrests dropped.

Don’t forget, though, that no spare wheel exists. Just an ever-fiddly tyre repair kit.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the Cooper…

The Juke is a small SUV in the true sense of the word, sitting below the Qashqai which is more like a mid-sizer these days in terms of dimensions.

However, it’s quite cleverly packaged on the inside and is more useful than it first appears.

The front seats, for example, offer heaps of headroom and a surprising amount of width, and while the seats are manual, they’re pretty adjustable. I was able to find a great seating position.

There are big pockets in the doors with an integrated bottle holder suitable for even the largest bottles, although the centre console area is a bit less versatile, choosing its funky design over additional storage.

It features two good bottle holders, but a tiny armrest box and a shallow tray with one 12V socket and a USB-A outlet, as well as an auxiliary audio input under the climate controls.

On the topic of climate controls, I love the fact the Juke maintains a dedicated ventilation panel complete with buttons and dials for all the core functions. No touchscreen nonsense here.

The media screen, as mentioned, is a tad small, and falls victim to glare easily.

The stock Nissan software is a massive upgrade on the brand’s previous-generation products, but while it’s functional it’s far from the prettiest or the fastest on the market.

The back seat offers more space than you might assume, but it’s not as well thought-out as the front of the cabin. At 182cm tall I fit behind my own driving position with just enough space for my knees and just enough headroom.

There are decent bottle holders in the doors, and a further two small ones in the drop-down armrest. The backs of the front seats are clad in that synthetic leather material, which is nice, and have soft pockets, too.

The back of the front centre console offers just a single USB-A outlet and a small cubby. There are no adjustable air vents for rear passengers. It also feels a little claustrophobic back there thanks to the black trim on everything and smaller windows.

Boot capacity for the Juke is impressive for an SUV in this class, with 422 litres on offer, which is close to the volume we’d expect from something a size-bracket up, and 1305L with the second row folded down. There is a space-saver spare under the boot floor.

The Juke range kicks off from just $28,390 which gets you into a base ST and reaches to $36,890 for the top-spec Ti.

We’re driving the $34,440 (before on-road costs) ST-L which is the upper mid-grade car.

It scores concept-style 19-inch alloy wheels, synthetic leather interior trim, an 8.0-inch multimedia touchscreen with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto connectivity, a 7.0-inch digital screen between the analog dials, a surround camera system, single-zone climate, keyless entry and push-start ignition, and LED headlights. 

The quite attractive ‘Magnetic Blue’ paint our car wears is a $700 option. For an additional $1133 you can also step up to the ST-L+ grade which adds alternate two-tone seat trim, chrome and black highlights and a 10-speaker Bose audio system.

While this ST-L grade gets the lion’s share of Juke equipment without the price-hike to the Ti (and is therefore the pick of the range) there are some notable items missing at this price.

For example, there’s no wireless phone charging, no head-up display, no fully digital instrument cluster, and no electrical adjustment for the seats. The 8.0-inch multimedia screen is starting to look a bit dated, too.

Still, it looks trendy and those massive wheels are well above the standard for a car at this size or price. So, if you’re going for style over equipment there is a choice to be made here.

Nissan also hasn’t cheaped out on safety equipment, with most active stuff coming standard, even on the base ST. More on this later.

Pricing is about line-ball with its most direct competitors. It’s a tad cheaper than some like the outgoing similarly-styled Toyota C-HR (Koba 2WD - $35,695), or slightly more expensive than others like the current equivalent Ford Puma (ST-Line - $33,190) or Mazda CX-3 (Touring SP - $34,300) although it is also ever so slightly larger than those last two by width, height, and wheelbase.

Compared to the previous model, the new one brings more performance to the table.

The Cooper C uses BMW’s 1.5-litre three-cylinder turbo petrol engine, and pumps out 115kW of power at 6500rpm and 230Nm of torque from 1500rpm to 4600rpm. Previously it was 100kW and 220kW.

With a power-to-weight ratio of 91.3kW per tonne, it’s enough for a zero to 100km/h time of 7.7 seconds (previously 8.1s), on the way to a 225km/h top speed.

Mounted transversely, it drives the front wheels via a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission (DCT).

It’s still difficult to imagine Mini buyers not outraged by the manual’s disappearance. But don’t worry. There’s always the Suzuki Swift.

Stepping up to the Cooper S, you’ll find a 2.0-litre four-cylinder turbo-petrol unit delivering a useful 150kW at 6500rpm and 300Nm between 1450rpm and 4500rpm. It was 141kW/280Nm in the old version.

Boasting 117kW/tonne, this one needs just 6.6s to 100km/h and can achieve a 242km/h V-max.

Now known as the FAAR platform, it is an evolution of BMW’s UKL (Untere Klasse, German for ‘lower class’) modular architecture that debuted in the previous model.

Suspension is via MacPherson-style struts up front and a multi-link independent rear end.

In the Juke’s messy engine bay lies a 1.0-litre, three-cylinder, turbo-petrol engine which sends 84kW/180Nm to the front wheels.

Nissan has its own 'HR10DET' engine code for this unit but it’s actually a Renault 'H5Dt' engine as evidenced by Renault logos all over the place.

Power is communicated by a seven-speed dual-clutch automatic which has been a source of strife for this car since it arrived. This very European engine and transmission combination is one which the Juke shares with its Renault Captur cousin.

I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but I would prefer a continuously variable transmission (CVT) which Nissan uses elsewhere in its range. It would solve maybe the main issue with this car, which we’ll explore up next in the driving section of this review

The new Coopers enjoy a drink more than before. By almost half a litre per 100km more, in fact.

Rated at Euro6 and running on 95 RON premium unleaded petrol, the Cooper C averages 6.0L/100km (F56: 5.6), while the more-powerful Cooper S ups that to 6.3L/100km (F56: 5.8).

In terms of carbon dioxide emissions averages, this translates to 137 and 145 grams per kilometre, respectively. With a 44L fuel tank, the potential range-average is up to around 730km.

One of the reasons this car comes equipped with a dual-clutch automatic is to chase fuel efficiency as well as emissions output. On paper DCT autos don’t suffer the inherent losses of a traditional torque converter transmission.

The official combined cycle fuel consumption figure is 5.8L/100km. My week of driving, weighted slightly more towards freeway conditions, produced a marginally higher average of 6.8L/100km. It’s not the claim, but it’s pretty good.

This little engine requires mid-shelf 95RON unleaded fuel, and the Juke has a 46-litre fuel tank, suggesting a driving range of 793km using the official fuel consumption number.

So far, similarities in design, packaging, dashboard presentation and suspension layout suggest that the electric Cooper and petrol Cooper would be like fraternal twins from behind the wheel.

But in reality, the petrol-powered Mini feels much the same as the previous model, whilst the EV is more akin to what we secretly wish the fantasy Tesla Model 1 would be like. From the future.

Now, we never had a chance to drive the Cooper C, but the closely-related (though larger and heavier) Countryman C sibling – complete with the same powertrain – proved to be a willing and feisty performer once on the go, after what seemed like protracted turbo and DCT lag.

Why the hell can’t Mini just offer manuals again?

The Cooper S, meanwhile, completely lived up to brand expectations, with the familiar, revvy snarl of BMW’s sophisticated 2.0-litre four-pot turbo providing punchy of throttle response and effortless cruising capability, though there’s still some initial acceleration hesitation.

Thankfully, the Mini’s steering is always alert, offering precision and agility by the bucketful, backed up a chassis that seems permanently glued to the road – even in the wet and wintry conditions we had to endure.

Yet, other than a ride quality that seemed better than any previous-gen Mini we’ve ever encountered and so genuinely surprised us, the Cooper S seemed a little… stale compared to the glorious SE EV we had just (reluctantly) surrendered.

A bit like having a favourite dish as leftovers for two nights in a row, it felt a bit passé in 2024, even when surrounded by that dazzling OLED dash and glitzy ambient lighting.

In every important metric – performance, handling, roadholding, ride quality, packaging and (particularly) refinement – the battery-powered Cooper is the more vibrant and alive option. And truer to the vision of the original’s creator, Alec Issigonis, as a result.

The Juke can be fun to drive, and I wanted to like it more, but the transmission its peppy little engine is paired with is frustrating.

Outputs of 84kW/180Nm doesn’t sound like a lot, but power isn’t the problem. The little engine has a fun turbo-surge which pairs with the Juke's light frame to make for a car which is quite athletic when you push it.

The issue is a mountain of turbo-lag conspires with the clunky dual-clutch automatic to make it far too sluggish off the line.

There’s a full second (or two, at times) to wait for any power to arrive, which simply isn’t good enough at T-junctions and roundabouts, the kind of situations a little urban SUV like this will constantly be encountering.

Nissan says the transmission software was even updated after the Juke’s launch, but it’s still not where it should be.

It has good traits, too. When you’re out on the open road, it has quick, snappy and well-defined shifts, and the engine is much better when it’s being properly pushed, too.

It has a gruff, entertaining tone, and the Juke’s light frame, firm ride, and comparatively heavy steering make it a joy to throw into some corners.

The long wheelbase for such a small SUV, paired with a decent set of tyres, also keeps it confident when its predecessor was a little clumsy.

Again, though, the reasonably hard ride, not helped by the very large wheels, isn't its best trait in an urban environment. The Juke is by no means uncomfortable, it just seems like the priorities for this little SUV aren’t in the right place.

I’ve said this before but there’s a great car in here somewhere. The Juke is fun to drive in the right environment, it’s just this environment is not where most prospective buyers will primarily be looking to use it.

What could fix this issue? A different transmission perhaps. Better yet, an e-Power hybrid powertrain.

The Juke's standard active safety features include freeway-speed auto emergency braking, lane departure warning with lane keep assist, blind-spot monitoring with rear cross-traffic alert, adaptive cruise control and traffic sign recognition.

Last time I reviewed this car I complained about the way it vibrates the steering wheel when the lane keep function decides you’re going out of your lane. But having since experienced so many more invasive lane keep systems, this one seems comparatively low-key.

Elsewhere, the Juke gets the standard array of six airbags (dual front, side, and curtain) and wears a maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating to the 2019 standards.

Like all Minis, the Cooper comes with a five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty and five years of roadside assistance.

There are no set service intervals, as the car’s onboard computer will alert the driver based on condition and wear/tear. That said, we recommend going every 12 months or 10,000km, just to be on the safe side.

Mini also promotes several prepaid service plans on its Australian website. According to BMW, “… both new and used Mini owners can upgrade to a MINI Service Inclusive plan for 5-years/80,000km (whichever comes first).”

Nissan offers the Juke with a five-year, unlimited km warranty, with five-years of roadside assist included.

It requires servicing every 12 months or 20,000km and the cost is subject to a capped price servicing program for the first six years.

This averages $651.33 annually, which is not cheap for a small SUV in this class.

However, there is also the option of a pre-paid five-year service plan which brings the annual cost over five years down to a more reasonable $429.60.

But, notably, it does not include the pricy $1521 sixth-year interval. It’s worth asking yourself how long you’ll own the car for before splurging on it.