Stop Giving Your Friends Car-Buying Advice

Odds are, you’re the car person in your circle, the one most likely to field questions from friends, uncles, and acquaintances.

“How’s the RAV4 Hybrid?”

“Should I buy a Tesla to save on gas?”

“How could an omniscient and loving God allow BMW to build 3-Series door clips from squeaky cheese curds?”

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Field enough of those and you’ll notice that raised eyebrows follow your answers. The prospective car buyer is rarely asking for advice, but for validation. “Will you look down on me, mister car expert, if I buy this car that I really want?” That’s the subtext.

Case in point, a good friend of mine. She’s a gracious hostess and heroic wine drinker who wrangled a medical-sales team for decades and made it look easy. Good people. She once offered to sell me her creampuff single-owner E30 (like I said, good people), just before she bought her last BMW, an E90-generation 328xi in a rather sober but handsome metallic grey.

The E90 held for a decade of stoic service before its footwell filled with rainwater. So to mark her retirement this year, my friend was on the hunt for something new. The queries came rolling in. She wanted a vehicle taller than a 3-Series, something easy to hop into and out of. Good visibility was a must. The mystery vehicle would have a comfy ride and—importantly—the right badge on the hood. Lexus and Genesis were quickly dispatched by her taste, so too the defining crossover from Toyota.

(This successful woman’s attitude mirrored Kanye’s, “What you think I rap for / To push a f***** RAV4?”).

She passed on crossovers from BMW and Audi, plus a couple cheeky entries from Volvo and Cadillac. I fixated on the Mercedes-Benz GLC, with its solid chassis, immaculate build quality, imperious driving dynamics, and airtight cabin with one of the more agreeable infotainment systems in the segment. Plus, an almighty three-pointed star affixed to the hood. By her own criteria, the GLC ticked every box.

A raised eyebrow. “And what about the Jaguar?” She almost purred when she said it.

It hadn’t occurred to me. To my mind, the Benz was the smarter choice. More refined, specifically, and more reliable in general. A GLC is an E-Class on its tiptoes, I explained, the luxury crossover segment’s only no-brainer. Jag offers a cheaper-feeling interior on its F-Pace, a less-cush ride, and a brand cachet that, to my mind, is less understood by American buyers. The Mercedes badge just means more in 2022.

Another raised brow.

The conversation ping-ponged between Benz and Jag regularly over the next several months, as decision day grew closer. I rallied hard for the Benz, the rational choice, and begged her to test drive both cars before she dropped her hard-earned cash on a well-deserved retirement chariot. I felt certain the Benz’s obvious charms would win her wallet.

But I borrowed an F-Pace from Jaguar to double-check my math.