I’ve been thinking about SUVs, recently - also known as Sports Utility Vehicles, of course. Not that I need to clarify what an SUV is, because you’ve probably got one, right? So have I. So’s your neighbour, most of your mates, and your mates’ mates… And so on. SUVs are everywhere, and the proof is in the numbers. Two of the top three selling cars in the UK so far in 2025 are SUVs (namely the Kia Sportage and Nissan Qashqai). In 2024, eight of the top 10 biggest-selling cars in the UK were SUVs.
So, what is it about SUVs that we love so much? I mean, it’s not hard to see. They look all chunky and cool, the boxy rooflines are great if you’ve got child seats in the back that you have to lean in and faff about with, and who doesn’t want a big boot and enough ground clearance to be able to laugh in the face of potholes and kerbs?
However, I do sometimes wonder where the ‘utility’ bit of the average Sports Utility Vehicle has gone. Is a hatchback boot and higher roof (lots of coupe-SUVs don’t even offer this, but I’ll hold off on a rant about those for another day) really all that’s required to class something as a ‘utility vehicle’?
Take the latest Renault Scenic E-Tech, for instance. This car, quite rightly, won the 2024 European Car of the Year award. I should know, as I’m a judge on that award, and I voted for it. It’s brilliant. Pleasant and confident to drive, long electric range at a great price, edgy to look at, masses of tech and rear passenger space, and a decent sized boot.
But then, the other day, I had a ton of stuff to carry to my in-laws, including a fire-pit (I know that’s weird, but hey) and a couple of cabin bags. The Scenic’s boot managed it – just. But I couldn’t help but feel that it’d be handy if the middle row of seats slid forwards, so that some of the extremely generous rear legroom could be sacrificed for boot space when that was the priority.
And it’s not only the Scenic, by any stretch. How about the Qashqai? A perennial best-seller, and the car that many people credit (or blame?) for popularising the ‘crossover SUV’. It does have a boot floor that you can flip over for a wipe-clean finish, if that suits, but not a lot of versatility or utilitarianism otherwise.
In fact, most of today’s ‘SUVs’ don’t have sliding seats, nor seats that you can remove, nor wipe-clean finishes that might be useful for a true ‘outdoor’ lifestyle … Not to mention that many of them aren’t offered with four-wheel drive, nor can they tow a great deal. So, in essence, the vast majority of cars that call themselves SUVs have actually forgotten the Sport and the Utility. So I guess they’re just… Vehicles?
I’d like to clarify here that modern family SUVs like the Qashqai, Scenic, Puma et al are not at all bad. Actually, they’re really rather brilliant. But they are exactly that: family cars. Also known as hatchbacks. And I’m very tired of everything being called an SUV, when it’s actually a hatchback with some natty wheel arch trims and an imaginative marketing team.
More than that, it’s really not helpful for anyone buying a car that everything is called an SUV. Because, inevitably, the term ‘SUV’ begins to mean absolutely nothing. Even the new Citroen C3 (pictured, below) and Fiat Panda have aspirations towards SUV-ness in their styling and marketing bumf. And we’ve lost the new Capri to a dumpy SUV-like silhouette, too. So, when will the SUV-ing of the world’s cars ever end? When do we get over the need to make everything bigger and higher, yet no more utilitarian and (ironically) less sporty.
So here’s my grand idea: we need new car classifications. And so I would simply suggest that every hatchback/crossover/not-an-SUV-but-called-an-SUV that’s 4.3-metres or under, with five-doors and a hatchback boot, is just called an urban car. Nothing wrong with that. It sounds kind of cool and fun, it works globally, and the name says what the tin actually contains, for a change.
Anything up to 4.7-metres long is a mid-sized family car, and anything over that is a large family car.
I know, I know. That’s all boring and beige. But hey – Starbucks has fun names for its coffee sizes, but do you really order a Venti, Grande, or Tall, or do you just go for small, medium or large?
So, there’s no point categorising a mid-sized family car as an Adventure Wagon, or Expedition Steed, or some such frivolity. It may sound good in the marketing meeting, but such is the cringeworthiness when you actually say these names out loud that nobody is going to walk into a dealer and ask for one, or tell their friends and colleagues that they’ve just bought one. So, there you have it: Urban, mid- and large. (We’ll leave the saloon and coupe categories alone, for now.)
As for what classifies as an SUV in this benign automotive dictatorship of mine - well, that's easy. It must have four-wheel drive, be able to tow more than its own kerbweight, have sliding and/or removable seats, and comfortably accommodate a muddy labrador in the boot while traversing a wet, grassy incline. Now that truly is an SUV.