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2018 Chevrolet Cruze Diesel Stick-Shift Sedan: Three-Pedal Thrift

Photo credit: Michael Simari - Car and Driver
Photo credit: Michael Simari - Car and Driver

From Car and Driver

Caught flat-footed by the OPEC oil embargo and inspired by the success of Mercedes-Benz’s charming and bulletproof diesel engines of the 1970s, General Motors took a stab at passenger-car compression-ignition-but the results were a series of engines so aggressively awful that they effectively killed the diesel in the U.S. market until Volkswagen’s aggressive TDI push two decades later. And we all know how that ended. While Wolfsburg licks its ultra-low-sulfurous wounds, GM’s intended competitor to the Golf and Jetta TDIs, the Chevy Cruze diesel, soldiers on.

Photo credit: Michael Simari - Car and Driver
Photo credit: Michael Simari - Car and Driver


There’s a cynical maxim regarding the path to an American automotive journalist’s heart. Take a wagon, add a diesel engine, back that up with a manual transmission, and paint the resultant contraption brown. But, to pervert Meat Loaf, two out of four ain’t bad. Our Arctic Blue Metallic sedan was equipped with a reasonably pleasant six-speed manual gearbox spoon-fed 240 lb-ft of torque by GM’s Hungary-built, 137-hp, turbo-diesel 1.6-liter inline-four. Its base price of $24,670 considerably undercuts that of the automatic Cruze diesel, which requires a minimum outlay of $26,270. More left-foot/right-hand fun and less money? That’s never a bad thing.

The Car in the Gray Flannel Suit

One of the great pleasures of diesel motoring in a relatively light, manual-equipped passenger car is reaching for a gear, grabbing it, surfing the meaty spot of the torque curve up to its crest, and then reaching for the next ratio. In the Cruze, that experience is undiluted, although quibblers might prefer a slightly shorter shifter. That is, however, the only true joy this car offers. Everything else is measured in degrees of competence. Sure, the steering action is fine. Yes, the ride quality is very good. The doors have locks, the wheels have tires, and the thing pulls 0.82 g on the skidpad and hits 60 mph in 8.2 seconds (0.2 second behind the automatic sedan we tested).

Photo credit: Michael Simari - Car and Driver
Photo credit: Michael Simari - Car and Driver


It turns out that GM, which had forgotten how to build a car somewhere around the time it was developing the Oldsmobile diesel, has remembered quite a few things. It has not, however, remembered how to make an interior as charming and aesthetically pleasing as that of the second-generation Corvette, and although the Cruze’s cabin seems to be made of reasonably sturdy stuff, there’s something both fussy and stilted about it. The Koreans have figured out how to do an enjoyable interior at a price point, Mazda seems to have the practice down to a science, and Volkswagen is perpetually good in this department. Diesel Cruzes are equipped to the LT trim level, offering a 7.0-inch touchscreen infotainment system with satellite radio, Android Auto and Apple CarPlay, and a six-speaker sound system. Opting for the efficient engine also nets you heated front seats, and the driver’s chair gets eight-way power adjustability. Our Cruze featured the $1125 leather package as its only option, but the hides add no richness to the proceedings. Pair that with the comfort-oriented ride quality, and the result is stultifyingly underwhelming.

Drive it to Qdoba

On the bright side of things, should you deign to play devil-may-care with your insurance rates the Cruze Diesel will hit 132 mph, which is better than a 1978 Corvette could manage. And a ’78 Corvette, huffing fuel through a four-barrel Rochester Quadrajet carb, couldn’t come close to matching the Cruze’s fuel economy.

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In the end, however, the novel nature of the powertrain-at least in the American market-doesn’t lend the Cruze the sort of cachet GM might’ve been hoping for. The diesel engine adds $2950 to the sticker of an LT sedan, which, at current fuel prices, is about two and a half years’ worth of gasoline (assuming you drive 15,000 miles a year). At which point, you might want to ask yourself, “Do I want to live with this car for a half-decade before I start realizing savings?” If you prefer the staid dependability of fast-casual restaurants, mall stores, and reruns of Friends, the answer might just be yes. For the rest of us, there are more enjoyable options.

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