Toyota Prius vs Mazda MX-30

What's the difference?

The Prius can rest its weary head. The Age of the Hybrid has begun. Even though this iconic eco car might have lost its ultimate purpose to more mainstream models in the last few years, it’s still the best execution of Toyota’s hybrid tech on the market and if you can look past its divisive-as-ever looks, it’s comfortable and practical, too.

The brand’s Australian division promises the Prius will stick around in one form or another, so we’re keen to see what its next iteration will look like. Plug-in? Fully electric? Time will tell.

The MX-30 is a tough one to give you a clear verdict on. In summary, though, the math just doesn’t add up. This car is way too expensive and offers next to no range for Australia’s vast intercity distances, essentially resigning buyers to a life within city limits.

On the other hand, I love the design ethos of this little SUV. It’s truly a statement, and it’s rare to find a car that is so committed to its uniqueness. It’s also easily one of the best EVs to drive right now, so those who understand its compromises will no doubt be left with smiles on their faces.

The Prius is the very visage of economic motoring. Derided by big-engine lovers, and adored by the eco-crowd, the fact that the Prius’s wedge-shaped frame is more about function than form tells you everything you need to know about this car.

It blends with Toyota’s latest design language, the face and bodywork containing some subtle nods to other models that would launch after it, like the Corolla, Camry, and C-HR.

What always surprises me about even this top-spec Prius is its dorky ride height. For a car with such a low drag coefficient, it sits so far off the ground! The 17-inch wheels look almost out of alignment with the body in those wheelarches.

Round the back, the Prius’s integrated spoiler and glasshouse bodywork are as divisive as ever, with more extreme pointed light fittings leaning into the effect created by its boxy, rear three-quarter view and mirroring the shape of the LED headlights at the front.

Of course, this car is less about being looked at as it is about its drag coefficient of 0.24 Cd, which is one of the lowest on any production car.

Inside, things again prove divisive, with a minimalist dash, a swoopy gloss highlight piece that frames the central vents and multimedia screen, and an odd, centrally mounted dash cluster, which is a usability faux pas.

In the case of the I-Tech at least there’s a holographic display which can put up useful information to help prevent your eyes from drifting too far from the road. Still, I can’t help but feel like this whole interior ethos is futuristic for the sake of being futuristic, with a little less thought given to how practical it is, compared to the brand’s other models.

The leather-appointed trim across the wheel and soft plastics in the door and dash-topper are appreciated, and there’s attention to detail in the little ‘Prius’ logos on the vents. However, I found the dull multimedia screen to be susceptible to glare during the day, and the big integrated panel in which it sits is made from a tinny gloss plastic, which will easily to get covered in fingerprints and scratches.

The MX-30 oozes design. I would go so far as to say this car is more focused on being a design statement than it is an SUV (as evidenced by its lack of practicality…) or an EV (as evidenced by its lack of range…).

Mazda’s Kodo design language is already eye-grabbing, so it’s to the MX-30’s credit that it manages to be striking, even against other members of the Mazda family, as it strays from a well-refined formula.

The large grille has been dumped in favour of something much smaller but the 3D effect of the Kodo face still persists. The light clusters adopt their own personality - they're inspired by the Mazda3, arguably, but they stand on their own.

The side profile, squat dimensions, and contrasting panel work (in our car’s case, a matte grey against the brand’s signature ‘Soul Red’) alert you to the fact that the MX-30 is something quite different indeed. And all this is before you notice the fact that it has clamshell rear doors.

Yep, that’s right, the MX-30 reaches into the brand’s history and brings back the outward folding door design once seen on the RX-8 rotary sports coupe. Opening it up is an event, and those doors wow onlookers with their unusual unfurling. Unfortunately, it’s not as smart as it looks, but we’ll get to that in the practicality part of this review.

The inside again blends familiar Mazda themes with entirely new ones. The material design is incredible. For the first time in a long time, I felt like a kid in some kind of tactile science museum, prodding, squeezing, and scratching at this car’s many interior elements to see if they were, in fact, made of the occasionally unbelievable materials they seem to be.

It doesn’t disappoint. Yes, the door cards really have a splash of an odd grey carpet material, very Volvo, the seats are really trimmed in some sort of synthetic leather, the quality grain of which has to be felt to be understood (it's very Mercedes), and the centre console is really made of recycled cork panelling, which is very BMW.

All of this might sound a bit silly (and the cork stuff perhaps is) but along with the stepped centre console design, weird semi-digital dash cluster and familiar bits out of other Mazdas, it is difficult to not enjoy being in such a creative and unusual space.

The commitment to this funky, unusual design, has some major practicality drawbacks, which we’ll take a look at next.

If nothing else, all of the Prius’s edgy design gives it plentiful interior space. Toyota granted this generation of Prius a low seating position and tall roof, which combine with the distant dash elements to make for a spacious cockpit for the front two occupants.

The seat design in the top-spec I-Tech is also cushy, reminiscent of the seats in high-spec Camrys, and I had absolutely no trouble finding a comfortable driving position. If there’s one thing to be said for the annoying, centrally mounted instruments, it’s that you don’t need to consider the position of the wheel interfering with their visibility.

The Prius’s total glasshouse grants superb visibility out the front and sides, with large wing-mirrors, too. The only downside is that integrated spoiler at the back, which makes for a distracting view out the rear mirror that I’m sure any owner will quickly become accustomed to.

Soft trims across the doors and centre console, even in the back seat, make the Prius cabin a comfortable place to be, too.

Ergonomics have not been forgotten, with the multimedia screen and climate unit having useful and easy-to-reach physical dials and toggles for all the key functions. Even changing gear is a breeze in the Prius, with its odd little rosebud-shaped shifter simply a flick of the wrist from where your arm sits.

I do wish Toyota had made better use of the large area under the climate unit, however. The front part of the centre console is exclusively for the wireless-charging bay alone, and the rest of the space is constructed from a smoothly contoured gloss-finish plastic panel. It has looks to match the Prius aesthetic, but it’s no good for storing anything other than a single phone. It would have been better to make a large bay here with a rubberised finish.

Thanks to the lack of a physical handbrake in the centre or any other buttons or functions, there are two large bottle holders with variable edges.

A huge centre-console box and large door bins round out the Prius’s front-seat storage options.

Room in the rear seat is excellent, my 182cm tall frame had stellar amounts of space for my legs and head, as the roofline continues through to that raised rear spoiler. The comfy seat trim continues, although the padding in the base is notably not as good as it is in the front.

There are some useful pockets on the backs of the front seats and a drop-down armrest with cupholders for rear passengers, too.

Finally, the awkward rear of the Prius makes for a fantastic boot capacity, one advantage this car still holds over its hybrid Toyota stablemates. Capacity for the I-Tech is a mid-size-SUV rivalling 502-litres (VDA), which easily consumed our CarsGuide test luggage set and is even bigger than the base Prius, at the cost of the space-saver spare wheel. The I-Tech only has a repair kit to go with its larger alloys.

Put simply, the MX-30 is about as practical as a sports coupe, which is a feat given it has the footprint and height of an SUV.

It starts with those clamshell doors. Sure, they look amazing, but they’re annoying to open because the handle is on the inside, so you have to open the front doors before you can open the rear ones. At best this costs you time when you’re just trying to load objects, pets, or kids, at worst it makes the rear of the cabin nearly impossible to access in a tight car park.

Even in my unit parking spot, I could barely access the rear seats, making it especially annoying when I just wanted to chuck a bag in the rear footwell.

Even if you don’t have trouble getting an adult back there, space is limited. Behind my own driving position, my knees were up against the seat in front, and while I had plenty of headroom, it feels a bit claustrophobic, thanks to the tiny windows and high beltline.

I’ll hand some credit to the commitment to this car’s design, though, the odd carpet trims continue into the rear doors, and there's even a plush padded surface for your elbows on either side. Nice touch. The seats also feel unusually low and sporty for an SUV, particularly an electric one.

As if it couldn’t be more clear that this car has the intention of being some sort of sports coupe, the front seats are lovely. Comfortable, supportive, and with plenty of soft trims throughout the cabin, I felt as though I had plenty of room here. The raised console design means the multimedia functions and toggles were easy to reach and use, and while the climate functions are somewhat awkwardly placed on a touch panel, at least they were set and forget most of the time.

There’s a tactile dial for volume control, and although the multimedia interface is dial-based rather than touch, Mazda’s system is one of the easiest to use once you get used to it.

There’s a large storage area under the centre console, hosting two USB ports and a household power outlet, and atop that there’s a cork-finished tray, which flips up to reveal dual bottle holders in the centre. Behind this there’s a small armrest console box, trimmed in the same plush padding as the doors and seats. Front occupants can also make use of small pockets in the doors and a glovebox.

Unlike some electric cars, the MX-30 doesn’t score a ‘frunk’, which seems like a wasted opportunity because the engine bay is half empty. Serviceable items look incredibly easy to access because of this, with liquid tanks and coolant hoses on display, but I can’t help but feeling Mazda could have put a small storage space here with some packaging trickery. It’s equally possible that there’s a crash-safety consideration, however.

Moving to the boot, and unfortunately there’s a small-hatch-sized 311 litres on offer, because there’s also next to no underfloor space, and you’ll have to store your charging cables in there, too, further reducing the space. With the cable bags strapped in place, the boot fit our largest (124L) CarsGuide travel case with little extra room to spare. It’s weekender luggage space at best, but then I suppose you won’t be able to go away for long with the range on offer anyway…

The price and features equation for electric cars is somewhat different from the status quo of their combustion equivalents. You can’t just consider standard spec inclusions, there’s a need to factor in range and charging capability, too, as battery capacity and AC to DC charging converters can have a dramatic effect on the cost.

Frustratingly for Mazda’s EV offering, the sums don’t add up as neatly as I’d like them to. The MX-30 EV is available in one top-spec trim, the E35 Astina, which wears a before-on-roads cost (MSRP) of $65,490.

This places it in the same league as the Hyundai Kona electric Highlander ($66,000), Kia Niro EV S ($67,490), and Tesla Model 3 Standard Range + which just had a significant price cut ($59,900).

To make things worse for our fledging Mazda EV, it has a WLTP-rated range of just 200km (or 225km using the ADR method)! There’s no two ways about it; this is pitiful in the face of the aforementioned rivals, all of which offer ranges in excess of 420km when measured against the same standard. Even the much cheaper base-model Nissan Leaf ($49,990) offers 270km of range.

You can’t not factor this in with an EV purchase, particularly in Australia where grand distances between cities essentially rules out any intercity trips for the MX-30 EV.

The brand is hoping this car’s funky and innovative design cues, which we’ll talk about in the next part of this review, will win the hearts of city-slickers, but the MX-30 is not lacking on the standard equipment front, either.

Stuff you’ll get out of the box includes 18-inch alloy wheels, an 8.8-inch multimedia screen (which, like this car’s CX-30 and Mazda3 siblings is a non-touch unit, controlled through a central dial), Apple CarPlay and Android Auto connectivity, a 7.0-inch semi-digital dash cluster, Bose 12-speaker premium audio, built-in sat-nav, head-up display, semi leather synthetic interior trim, full LED exterior lighting, a holographic head-up display, single-zone climate control with its own 7.0-inch touch panel controller, heated front seats, as well as keyless entry with push-start ignition.

The MX-30 has some unique interior materials, and I’m not sure why more EVs don’t have a full-size domestic power socket, as this car does under the centre console at the front. Handy for when you need to charge household devices larger than a phone on-the-go (hair-curling tongs perhaps?). There are a few spec omissions, however. Dual-zone climate, power seat adjust, and a wireless phone charger are chief among the missing.

It wouldn’t be a Prius without Toyota’s signature hybrid synergy drive technology. In this most original case it consists of a 1.8-litre four-cylinder petrol engine, which uses the more thermally efficient but less powerful Atkinson combustion cycle, producing 72kW/142Nm, paired to a set of electric motors on the front axle, which can produce up to 53kW/163Nm.

Combined system output is rated by Toyota at 90kW, driving the front wheels only via a continuously variable automatic transmission (CVT). This system is the same one now also employed in the C-HR and Corolla hybrid grades.

The Prius’s electric motors source their power from an older design nickel-metal hydride battery (instead of the more modern lithium-ion setup) located under the boot floor.

The MX-30 has an electric motor on the front axle with a single-speed reduction-gear transmission. It produces low-sounding figures of 107kW and 271Nm of torque, which is less than most of its rivals, although it has more power and less torque than the equivalently sized (but much cheaper) MG ZS EV.

Although these power figures don’t look as impressive as rivals, it’s worth remembering that the MX-30 has much less weight to carry around, so when it comes to driving it’s a much better story than it appears. More on that later.

The MX-30 offers three levels of regenerative braking, controlled through the wheel-mounted paddle-shifters, a necessary touch, and one that offers decent feedback on how your driving style is affecting range, via the dash and multimedia screen.

The Prius’ sandpapered hybrid drive, low drag number, weight reductions, and low-rolling-resistance tyres add up for a stellar official/combined fuel-consumption figure of just 3.4L/100km. While its signature hybrid tech might be available on other Toyota’s, it’s here where the Prius still shines, undercutting the others by almost a whole litre every 100km.

But can it live up to that promise in the real world? Over my week of what I would consider to be reasonable ‘combined’ driving conditions; with plenty of traffic, freeways, and suburban driving, the Prius returned a stellar figure of just 4.0L/100km. This is not just one of the lowest figures I have ever achieved on a test car, it is even lower than the Corolla Hybrid that I tested over a three-month period. I couldn’t get that car below 4.9L/100km, despite by best attempts.

For a true rival comparison, my week-long test of the Ioniq hybrid in 2019 had the Korean managing a fuel number of 4.6L/100km.

You need not worry about kWh energy consumption for the Prius, as its hybrid system’s software manages the state of battery charge on the fly. It will simply run the engine to charge the battery if levels drop too low, although it always feels good to make the most of the motor’s regenerative braking to keep the battery topped up.

It’s clear that the Prius is still the king of hybrid, then. At least for the time being. All Prius models have 43-litre fuel capacities and are able to consume base-grade 91RON unleaded.

The MX-30 has some advantages here, in that its tiny (35.5kWh to be precise) lithium-ion battery pack means it charges up pretty quickly. The downside? It’s not as quick as it could be, and its efficiency leaves a little to be desired.

As already discussed at length, this small battery means a very short range – between 200 and 224km depending on which standard you want to go by, and the MX-30 is claimed to consume 18.5kWh of energy on the combined cycle.

This is disappointing because not only is the claim higher than rivals like the Kona electric and Nissan Leaf, but in reality, I couldn’t best it with predominantly city driving, as I have previously been able to in all its rivals. Over some 250km of testing I managed a dash-reported 18.9kWh/100km.

The MX-30 EV takes a European-standard Type 2 CCS charger, the most popular kind in Australia, and will charge up at a rate of 50kW on DC or 6.6kW on AC.

It would have been nice to see that boosted to at least 7.2kW AC to be a bit more competitive on AC charging speed. For a car that will need to be charged frequently, even a 10-minute difference in charging time is important. While 50kW DC is about right for a battery pack this size, I assume there will be cooling issues pushing that to 100kW+ as the Hyundai Kona electric and Tesla Model 3 with nearly twice the battery size are capable of.

Mazda estimates a charge time of 36 minutes on DC, three hours on a three-phase AC charger, or nine hours from a ~2.4kW wall outlet. I charged my MX-30 a single time before returning it, from about 10 – 80 per cent, with it maxing out at around 50kW. It charged in less than 40 minutes, however, as promised.

The Prius was responsible for popularising Toyota’s Hybrid Synergy Drive, and fittingly, it still feels like the best execution of the technology on the market. That instantly available torque from the electric motor is sleek, quiet, and easy. It feels as though the Prius can make more extended use of purely electric drive than not only its rivals, but all other Toyota and Lexus hybrid products.

Despite its awkward exterior looks, the ride and handling of the Prius are excellent, thanks to its robust TNGA-C underpinnings (in fact, the Prius was the car to debut this platform for Toyota). It tilts into corners nicely, despite a frumpy ride height, and deals with bumps in its stride. This is a comfortable car, and the Lexus influence here is undeniable. The steering characteristics are also smooth and responsive. I wouldn’t go so far as to say the Prius is fun to drive, but it is certainly comfortable and compliant.

What the Prius lacks is the lower, firmer, and more aggressive ride and handling characteristics of its Hyundai Ioniq rival, perhaps a telling insight into the trajectory of each brand.

These characteristics add up to an around-town driving experience that really is a breeze. It’s quiet in the cabin and at times genuinely hard to tell whether the car is using its electric motors or the engine. When it comes to bursts of acceleration, the Prius might surprise you. Using both the motor and engine in tandem, I found that the Prius can sprint from the line with an alarming urgency, more so than its Corolla sibling. With the same tech behind the accelerator pedal, it’s hard to imagine why.

Once the electric motor has reached its strictly defined limit, though, the engine breaks in with a vengeance, and this car does have an anaemic follow-through when the electric components fall to the wayside. As in other applications of this drivetrain, the 1.8-litre Atkinson-cycle petrol engine can be thrashy and noisy when a lot is asked of it.

Of course, driving in such a sporty manner is hardly the point of the Prius, and where it really excels is in that day-to-day traffic grind, where the hybrid system works largely in the background to maximise the time spent with the engine off. The best part? While you can really fall into the hybrid system’s addictive fuel-saving displays, which really encourage hypermiling, this is a set-and-forget system. You can drive the Prius like any other car, and it will be trim on fuel consumption anyway. It’s not like I was trying awfully hard to attain my weekly figure of 4.0L/100km, so I’m sure it can do better over the long term.

Usually, it’s easier here to talk about how electric cars are different from their combustion counterparts, or how they are great for an electric car. In the case of the MX-30, however, it’s just a great car to drive.

I’ll admit, I didn’t expect this little EV to match, much less exceed the driving experience of its CX-30 sibling, but it was a pleasant surprise to find out how great it was.

It turns out that having a much smaller battery, and therefore a much lower kerb weight than most EVs, means the MX-30 feels light, agile, and rapid compared to all of its rivals, which goes some way to making up for its lesser outputs.

In fact, I had no trouble with the motor at all, with the MX-30 feeling faster and more responsive than the Hyundai Kona electric or the Kia Niro EV.

Mazda’s handling prowess is also on full show here, with the smooth and accurate steering allowing me to point this little SUV with remarkable accuracy. The steering tune is lighter than the Kona electric, but a bit more significant than the Kia Niro's. It emboldens you to have a bit of fun, and again, unlike rivals, Mazda’s suspension tune has your back.

It’s sporty enough to engage you, but not so firm that it sends tremors through the cabin, an impressive feat considering it has a less complex torsion bar rear. If anyone had asked me, I would have sworn it was multi-link all-round.

The whole experience feels very similar to helming the CX-30 or Mazda3, but I’d even say the MX-30 feels better over the front end, with less rough rebound than its siblings.

It also makes a cool noise. Mazda have given the MX-30 an artificial tone, plumbed through the speakers, and unlike the science-fiction hum generated by the Hyundai group EVs, the Mazda’s is a warm drone, more reminiscent of a combustion engine.

To be clear here, the MX-30 is no Tesla Model 3. That car is seriously rapid, with mind-bending handling, although I will say there’s a certain poise and refinement to the way the Mazda drives. Even in the corners, it’s confidence inspiring, with the torque-vectoring magic built into the electric motor on full show.

Perhaps one of the reasons that this car is a tad less efficient than its rivals is its lack of weight, which would allow more energy to be fed back into the battery during regenerative braking. Or perhaps its regen braking modes are a bit too forgiving, either way it’s nice that the Mazda offers three easily controllable levels via the paddle-shifters. I even became a fan of the quaint analogue power dial, even if it does give you a bit less feedback than the sleek software suites in Hyundai Group or Tesla offerings.

The MX-30, then, hits an unexpected niche. The benefits of its smaller battery pack and a focus on handling make this car one of the best EVs to drive today, even if you’re restricted to city limits, and regular recharging.

Like all recently launched Mazdas, the MX-30 is packed full of advanced ‘i-Activesense’ safety gear. In terms of cutting-edge items, this includes freeway-speed auto emergency braking, now with low-speed intersection assist as well as pedestrian and cyclist detection, lane-keep assist with lane-departure warning, blind-spot monitoring with active intervention, as well as front and rear cross traffic alert, with rear emergency braking.

The MX-30 also has the expected suite of electronic assistance but goes further to include torque vectoring and has a total of 10 airbags – a lot for a very small cabin. It also comes packed standard with front and rear parking sensors, as well as a 360-degree parking camera suite. It’s amongst the best safety suites in terms of pure features in the small SUV segment.

The MX-30 has a maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating to the 2020 standards.

Toyota’s range-wide warranty currently stands at five years or unlimited kilometres, which is really the accepted industry standard and matches its key Ioniq rival.

Annoyingly, however, the Prius needs to adhere to six-monthly or 10,000km service intervals. Said intervals are capped to $165 per visit for the first six visits under Toyota’s “service advantage” program, after which time you fall back to Toyota genuine servicing with significant price hikes to $221.97, and $425.47 for the next two services covering four years or 80,000km.

A year of roadside assist is included, after which time you will need to subscribe to Toyota’s program, from $89 a year.

While Toyota’s offering is on par with many, it’s hardly the cheapest or most comprehensive we’ve seen.

The MX-30 is covered by Mazda’s industry-standard five-year and unlimited kilometre warranty, while the battery pack is covered by a separate eight-year promise, on par with its Korean rivals. Mazda includes roadside assist for the duration of the warranty.

The EV has service intervals of 12 months or 15,000km whichever occurs first, and a five-year service plan comes in at $1273.79, working out to an average of $254.76 a year. That’s getting close to Toyota levels of cheap servicing, and so it should, given electric cars (at least in theory) have much less to attend to when it comes service time.