The government’s push to have all motorists driving electric vehicles (EVs) in the next decade and the rise in the cost of Vehicle Excise Duty (VED) for some petrol and diesel cars is focusing the minds of many motorists in the UK.
The 2030 ICE ban will see the end of sales of petrol and diesel cars in the country, with the goal of reaching 100 per cent zero-emission sales by 2035.
And it means many drivers are looking at buying an EV as their next motor. But if you’ve never driven one, what is it like and how does it compare to what we are used to?
Angela Epstein decided to hire one for a weekend away and write about her experience for our sister title, The Express.
Angelia is proud owner of a 16-year-old diesel-guzzling Volvo that she admits she’s forever patching up to keep it going. And after her experience of driving, and being a passenger in, the BMW EV, she predicts she’ll be shelling out to keep her trusty Volvo on the road for as long as she can.
Angela’s experience
There are at least a zillion places I’d rather be than a motorway service station on an unseasonably cold February night. Especially after driving for two hours and finding myself only 40 minutes from home. Unfortunately, lousy planning and so-called progressive technology had conspired to bring me to this miserable place.
Specifically in the shape of the electric car we’d hired for our trip. Electric vehicles – known as EVs – may be the future. Well, at least if you buy the government’s planet-saving sales patter, underpinned by plans to ban the sale of new petrol and diesel cars by 2030, and new hybrid vehicles in 2035.
But as the owner of a 16-year-old Volvo on end-of-life care, the thought of swapping my ageing diesel for a plug-in motor fills me with horror. Not least after my recent experience behind the wheel of one.
It was actually my husband Martin’s idea to hire an EV – specifically a BMW iX M Sport – for our weekend away. He’s desperate for me to offload my Volvo and thought this would be an ideal way to make the case for going electric.
Not least because of Labour’s plans to hike up Vehicle Excise Duty on some diesel and petrol cars from April 1. But even as the wife of an accountant, such financial pragmatism didn’t touch the sides. I hated everything about driving an EV and, throughout our journey, felt pangs of genuine loss for the car I’d left at home.
Before I go on, a disclaimer. I’ve never been a “car person”, seduced by fancy gadgetry. I bought my Volvo XC90 in 2010 – procured after an unexpected legacy from a much-loved uncle – after then-Chancellor Gordon Brown introduced lower vehicle tax for diesel cars on the grounds that they emitted less CO2 than petrol-powered cars.
That so-called “dash for diesel” ended on a sour note for many consumers when it turned out to have caused a rush on highly-polluting cars. But mine was also a practical purchase. At the time, our four children were still at school and the Volvo seven-seater was a real workhorse. Yet when the kids left home, I still loved it.
I liked the fact I could always spot my Volvo in a busy car park, as well as its height and the span of the windscreen (which presented the view ahead like the opening credits of a Netflix drama). And although it started to become increasingly expensive in terms of repairs (and effectively a pension scheme for our local mechanic) I refused to consider the alternative.
So you could say I was already predisposed to dislike our hired EV. But I also believe in fair play and I was determined to keep an open mind. Unfortunately, from the moment the engine whispered into life I hated it. I love the throaty fire of my Volvo’s ignition.
And it went from bad to worse.
The space-age dashboard was a massive distraction, dishing up animation, energy consumption stats and range predictions. All utterly overwhelming compared with the simple speedometer I was used to.
It also – and this was a real kicker for all the wrong reasons – projected information such as speed limits, onto the windscreen. A ridiculous, headache-inducing diversion.
Of the drive itself, let me count the ways I hated it. Thanks to regenerative braking, which slows the car down as soon as you lift off the accelerator, there was lots of sudden, jerky deceleration, particularly in stop/start traffic. Hands up I am a bad traveller and do get motion sickness. But I never expected my own driving to make me feel queasy!
Perhaps it was the way I was handling it, Martin offered. So we swapped roles. In the passenger seat it felt even worse. EVs deliver power instantly. This type of acceleration, proponents argue, make this a smoother ride. For smooth read abrupt – every unexpected movement had me heaving in my seat and hurling expletives at the universe.
If all this didn’t make the case against our EV, there was the fabled range anxiety. Living in Manchester and with work and children regularly taking me to London I want to get to the capital without stopping. With this car I was told I could. The range was more than 300 miles.
But what if I do lots of errands before I leave or want to holiday somewhere further? What if I couldn’t find a charger? Last month Chancellor Rachel Reeves announced a £65million investment into EV charging infrastructure. I’m not holding my breath.
I want to be a free agent when I get in my car. And able to refuel even if I’m tootling around remote rural parts of the UK. Public chargers can be unreliable, occupied, or in inconvenient locations, particularly outside major cities. What if you can’t find one that is compatible? Cold weather, high speeds and even air conditioning can impact the range. I’m stressed just listing this.
Anyway, even with fast chargers, it takes longer to recharge an EV than to refuel my Volvo. Home charging though convenient can be slow – as friends who have them admit.
And who wants to be housebound if there’s a spontaneous chance to go out? Meanwhile, over time, an EV’s battery loses capacity – another factor in range anxiety. Sure you may have a manufacturer’s assurance. But replacing a battery outside of warranty can be very pricey. Of course, I should stress this was only my personal experience.
Many drivers are readily embracing new technology – as of January, more than 1,390,000 UK motorists were driving battery-electric cars. Yet even if I’d loved the EV, there are so many manifest disadvantages about buying an electric car.
They are generally more expensive than their petrol or diesel cousins, even with government incentives. And though prices may fall, the initial investment would be a sting on the pocket. As for the eco argument, materials like lithium, cobalt, and nickel, needed for their batteries, carry their own environmental and ethical concerns.
Ultimately, this was personal. At the end of the journey I was cold from the service station recharging, tired from the fancy dashboard, and bilious from the way the car moved.
Rather than encouraging me to go electric, I felt even more determined not to pull the plug on my old Volvo. While there’s still diesel in its tank and cash for repairs in my wallet, I’m going to keep it that way. And I suspect I am not alone.”