Smart 3 vs Tesla Cybertruck

What's the difference?

The #3 Brabus is very nearly one of the great bargains of 2024, with the sort of style, luxury, features, performance and grip you’d expect from the much-more-expensive GLA AMG 45. It’s that good.

What would make it great is a sunblock for the hot glass roof on a sunny day, Australian road tuning for the infuriating ADAS tech and a revised steering tune that didn’t make it feel inconsistent at times.

See past these, though, and the #3 Brabus exceeds expectations.

We’re glad Smart is back.

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.

Smart says Mercedes designed the #3 and it shows.

In silhouette, or when glanced peripherally, it could be the love child of the A-Class and EQA. Only the friendly face betrays its non-Benz heritage.

Longer and wider than the #1, it is also 80mm lower – achieved via a lower ride height, flatter seats and a thinner floor.

Helped by a 35mm wheelbase stretch, it provides a nicely-balanced and proportioned crossover, with a decent drag coefficient of 0.27. The Brabus’ big wheels also fill out the arches very nicely.

Key length/width/height/wheelbase dimensions are 4400mm/1844mm/1556mm and 2785mm, respectively.

Unusually for a coupe/crossover mash-up, there’s slightly more room inside compared to the upright donor model.

Let’s take a longer look in there.

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. 

On first approach, you ask yourself whether the #3 is a crossover or a small-to-medium SUV. The low roof and cool frameless doors certainly suggest the former, as do the comparatively small apertures.

That said, with the windows down, those sash-less doors help entry and egress.

Once ensconced inside a long if slightly narrow cabin, the #3 offers ample room for even the tallest adults up front, as well as a reasonably spacious back seat area, though you’d call that more of a '2+1' seater given the lack of girth for three. Most folk shouldn’t struggle to find the right driving position, either.

Presumably keen to impart a generic Mercedes vibe, the #3’s interior is somewhat reminiscent of a GLA’s, albeit from last decade – down to the pronounced T-shape dash featuring a trio of circular vents in the middle, a standalone screen above and (unconvincing) metal-look plastic trim below.

Understandably, like so much of the Brabus, this might appeal to aspiring A45 AMG owners, but it seems oddly dated, given the advanced electrification going on underneath.

Likewise, none of the minimalism cleverness of the ForTwo city-car original is referenced, even digitally. A lost opportunity, really. The OG Smart is an icon.

Meanwhile, ahead of the driver, a narrow digital strip looks twee and cheap, as if ripped from a Japanese 'Kei' car. It’s a strange design detail for a $71K SUV.

Still, the #3’s cabin layout is largely a success, and much of that is due to the first-class quality and finish. Unlike some of the aforementioned Benzes of the previous decade, squeaks and rattles are notable by their absence.

Depending on your body, the racy sports seats up front are either perfectly bolstered or far-too snug, but they provide a decent level of comfort and support. And they position you just right for controlling the centre display, which dominates all.

The 12.8-inch touchscreen feels slick, responsive and right-sized for the car. At first, it can also seem like info-overload and perhaps a bit cheesy with its animal animations, but real thought has gone into it to provide an extraordinary level of functionality.

Across the top are icons for access to media, sat-nav, apps and camera view settings, while the bottom row is for various climate and trip info. While somewhat logically presented, the charging-station list seemed outdated and/or at-times incorrect in our test car.

Mercifully, the Smart has a row of short-cut buttons for 'Vehicle Modes' (including turning off the infernal lane assist and one-pedal accelerator/braking), 'Driving Mode' ('Eco'/'Comfort'/'Sport'/'Brabus'), glass demisters, climate and display-off.

Annoyingly, the latter is closest to reach, revealing the #3’s left-hand drive market bias, as the driver must stretch across to access the first two (and more important) settings.

There are also several handy screen-activated modes including 'Entertainment Mode' that temporarily leaves the accessories and climate control on; 'Rest Mode' reclines the driver’s seat down flat and dims the interior lights; 'Energise Mode' is designed to pep you up; and 'Pet Mode' keeps a climate-controlled atmosphere while deactivating all buttons that a stray paw might press. Clever.

There’s lots more besides, and using the touchscreen is better in this than most other Chinese vehicles, but it remains fiddly and distracting.

It’s also worth pointing out that the fixed glass roof needs a blockout for Australia. A Smart spokesperson said an aftermarket cover is available, but as supplied to us, sitting under it over a run of hot days is almost unbearable without a hat. This is not good enough.

Thankfully, the other basics are all A-OK.

The climate system coped well the hot sun bearing down through the glass, plenty of useful storage makes up for the disappointingly shallow glove box, while the chilled centre console and massive door bins proved especially handy.

USB access is easy, the wireless Bluetooth/Apple CarPlay performed more consistently than in any recent test vehicle and the standard Beats audio brings brilliant sound.

Out back, most people under 180cm should at least avoid scraping that glass ceiling, and there’s a reasonable amount of room for boots and long knees if the front occupants are sympathetic, but you’d be stretching the truth calling the rear seat packaging SUV-esque.

On the other hand, it’s beautifully presented, boasts a comfy and supportive backrest/cushion for outboard passengers and even a do-able centre pew for shorter-distance riders.

And it provides every expected amenity, including air vents, USB-C ports, door storage, a folding centre armrest with cupholders, and overhead handles/lighting/coat hooks.

And while we’ve already complained about the glass roof, it floods the cabin with light, to make it seem airier than it is. Narrow front seats with a see-through slit further enhance this feeling.

Further back, the 370-litre boot is reasonably long and surprisingly deep thanks to a removable upper floor that’s good for stuffing the optional home charging cables in.

And, of course, it can be extended to 1160L via the split-fold backrests to provide extra loading practicality. And there’s even a small (15L) amount of storage under the bonnet.

Maximum towing capacity is 1600kg for a braked trailer.

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.

The #3 Brabus employs one permanent magnet synchronous electric motor per axle, for dual-motor, all-wheel drive performance via a single-speed ‘transmission’. 

They provide plenty of poke, totalling 315kW of power (115kW front, 200kW rear) and 543Nm of torque (200Nm front, 343Nm rear).

Tipping the scales at 1910kg, this means the Brabus delivers an impressive power-to-weight ratio of 165kW/tonne – enough for it to scoot from zero to 100km/h in 3.7 seconds, on the way to a 180km/h top speed.

To put those figures in perspective, the similarly-priced VW Golf R only manages 156kW/tonne and 4.8sec to 100.

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.

All #3s headed to Australia for now are fitted with the larger of the two battery packs available – a 66kWh lithium nickel cobalt manganese (NCM) item.

In the Brabus, it is rated to average up to 415km of WLTP-certified range, which is between 20-40km shy of the mid-spec Premium version.

Smart says the WLTP average energy consumption is 17.7kWh/100km. Our 3000km-old test car’s trip computer displayed a life-cycle average of 14.6kWh/100km since delivery.

During our week with the Brabus, we managed an average of 19.4kWh/100km, and that was over a 95km period of sustained highway driving at 114km/h with cruise control on and climate control set at 18 degrees (to combat the radiant heat from that glass roof).

With a big 22kW AC charger and 150kW DC charger capability, the former will replenish that 66kWh battery in about 32 hours using a home plug or 10 hours with an optional 7.0kW Wallbox, while the latter will need just over an hour from 10-80 per cent with a common 50kW DC charger.

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.

Whatever notions ‘Smart’ might evoke, the #3 Brabus obliterates them. This is no buzzy little city-car runabout, but a surprisingly mature and athletic driving machine. This is a seriously rapid performer.

A trio of driving modes give you a hint of what you’re in for. Eco is lightness and fluff. Not very Brabus, but smooth and calm enough for relaxed commuting. And it’s far from slow, scooting off the line with zip and zest. Enough for most.

Comfort is actually a good all-round setting to be in, with an eager yet controlled level of performance. Strong acceleration and instant accelerator reaction show you mean business – if you’re in the mood. Still civilised and serene otherwise.

Sport ups the ante, as you’d expect, providing a decent whack of speed and immediate response. Actually, this is enough to keep up with most sports car costing thrice the price, while maintaining the driver-assist safety net. Fun without the fear.

Brabus mode is off-the-leash fury, turning the #3 into a convincing AMG alternative thanks to blistering thrust and a powerful punch across the spectrum. More (artificial) noise, more drama, more speed, more fireworks. The 'Launch Control' pins you to your seatback.

Yet even in the latter setting, the Smart behaves with a maturity beyond the brand’s reputation, capable of quick corners with exceptional (AWD-enhanced) body control and roadholding grip, without a punishing ride.

Underneath, a unique suspension tune for the MacPherson-style struts up front and multi-link rear end keep the Brabus hunkered down more effectively at speed.

And even in pouring rain, there are no complaints about the Brabus’ assured and confident handling. Yes, the suspension is firm, but it’s far from uncomfortable, so, an acceptable trade-off.

Plus, though not strictly one-pedal driving, the regenerative braking pressure is enough for slowing down and speeding up in the ebb and flow of traffic in its strongest mode.

Where we’re less happy is in the #3’s steering. It brings three weight modes to the table – but only two are useful, 'Light' and 'Standard'. Super-easy yet not totally devoid of substance, Light is great for around town and general commuting.

But when you lean on it at speed, the steering, whilst crisp and reactive, is not always linear in feel or motion, especially when accelerating at the same time, as you might when coming out of a fast corner.

Depending on how hard you are on the accelerator, there can be a visible step when turned from the straight ahead that can be quite disconcerting. It’s a bit like when slurping in a lumpy bit in a smoothie.

So, what about 'Sport' mode? Here, the steering is just as described above, but with added weight and not much more. Not worth it. Best is Standard mode.

Another disappointment is the advanced driver-assist safety (ADAS) tech’s state of tune. It’s in a state, literally.

The intrusive and apparently non-permanently switch-off-able lane-keep systems, especially, end up resisting what the driver intends, and even fight to steer the car where it thinks it needs to be. This is frustrating and potentially dangerous.

It’s been reported that Geely, and not Mercedes, undertook the development of these ADAS systems. We’re getting sick of (mostly Chinese) manufacturers rolling the arm over and imposing this sort of nannying and ultimately counter-intuitive driving interference tech.

This needs to be fixed. It stops the #3 Brabus from being a great performance bargain.

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'.