It's a long time since I looked under the bonnet of a new car, writes Brian Byrne. I only do that now when sent to check the fluids on our small family hybrid. An opportunity to marvel at the mix of engineering, plumbing and electrical work that the internal combustion engine has become since first developed in the late 1800s. There's mystery and symmetry in the packaging which still deserves observation.
I used to be able to poke around in that space. Resetting noisy tappets, cleaning burnt distributor contact breakers, oil changes needed much more frequently than now. Mostly that stuff became irrelevant, unnecessary, or impossible to the ordinary non-mechanic. But it was always interesting to look at how improvement and innovation was changing the look of an automotive system that fundamentally hadn't changed, yet had changed utterly.
With the arrival of EVs, there's now no reason at all to open the bonnet. There's likely to be nothing more than a small storage 'frunk' to be seen. Traction batteries and sealed electric motors don't have the same 'wow' factor as had the proud engineering around pistons in cylinders, valves, crankshafts and transmissions, carburettors and even fuel injection arrays. A whole visual of mechanical mystery is leaving the automotive room. Once something that elicited similar passions as in those who follow football teams, the car is well on the way to becoming the equivalent of a fridge on wheels. Unseen underpinnings all the same, with different badges and shapes.
Which brings me to the latest EV from Fiat, a brand that in Ireland has been in the doldrums for a decade but is now in revival through the Stellantis group's distributors here. But being part of a global something put together by merging a number of smaller groups with multiple marques already, it all becomes rather a badge engineering exercise. So the 600e shares its platform and running gear with Opel's Mokka and Corsa, Peugeot's 2008 and 208, Alfa Romeo's Junior, the DS 3 Crossback, and the Jeep Avenger.
The 600e's style doesn't try to stand out much apart from the quirky 'face' with flirty eyelids over the lights and the overall look a perpetual smile. The profile is devoid of tricky design details, albeit an interesting sill-level 600 logo-and-chrome line and wheels which look like they came directly from a motor show concept. The rear treatment is neat, unfussy to the point of making little lasting impression. In short, it's a car for everybody who doesn't care about showing off their automotive style. Which is possibly a growing cohort of buyers.
The inside has direct reflections of the Jeep Avenger. The transmission selector row of PRND buttons at the front of the centre console, the lid of which folds open like an Apple iPad cover. Above these a line of real switches for climate control, and a radio volume knob that has disappeared from so many cars. The infotainment screen is mounted high, with easily understandable graphics that even make the touchscreen less difficult to manage on the move. The little but perfectly adequate driving information pod is uncluttered and immediately comprehensible.
The review car came in a light ivory upholstery with unusual decorative texturing. Plenty of room for me in the front, not so much in the back for anyone behind me. But this is a sub-compact, so for most purposes a reasonable four-seater for the not yet grown family.
It drives like, well, yes, any of its Stellantis electric cousins. Which is smoothly and quietly and not trying to masquerade as anything but a car to do what most owners want, get from place to place reliably and in some level of comfort.
This was the electric version. The range in my car turned out to be what I believe was a fairly realistic 400km. The platform is also designed for hybrid powertrains, and there's one in the list. When I drive that one, I probably will take the opportunity to look under the bonnet.
PRICE: Hybrid from €28,995; review EV €32,995. WHAT I LIKED: No fashion pretending.
