Is it worth it?
That’s the only question when a car costs $200,000. Nothing else could matter. It’s an absurd amount of money, a price tag that can only be attached to an absurd vehicle. When the Mercedes-Maybach EQS 680 SUV arrived with its absurd name, absurd $199,250 sticker price and absurd two-tone paint, reason demanded an answer.
With “Is. It. Worth. It?” ringing in my ears, I set out to find one. But in the end, that wasn’t the question that mattered. The real question isn’t about the car, it’s about you.
How much would you pay to feel better than everyone else?
Gallery: Mercedes-Maybach EQS 680 SUV
The Problem
Pre-war cars were cantankerous things. They belched soot. “Sound deadening” was whatever you could stuff in your ears. They shook your bones like a tuning fork. Selling luxury was a matter of solving problems: Dampen the thunderous exhaust, put something squishy between you and the road and build it out of more exotic materials than wood and iron. This is how Rolls-Royce and Maybach found their way—by being better than those cars, for a price. And that worked quite well for about a century.
But there’s a problem that’s getting worse for ultra-luxury automakers. Modern cars are really quite pleasant. That’s doubly true in the electric era. A base-model Chevy EV has a smoother and quieter powertrain than anything Rolls was building 30 years ago. It still has its problems: Bargain seats, none of the gizmos you associate with bliss, none of the interior trappings. But the luxury market attacks these genuine problems well. A Cadillac Lyriq or Mercedes EQE or any one of a dozen $80,000 cars will give you plush thrones, sophisticated supervised autonomous driving assistance features, great sound systems and utterly serene driving experiences.
That leaves the ultra-luxury space with less room to run. The Mercedes-Maybach EQS SUV is, as the name implies, a plusher version of the standard Mercedes EQS SUV. That model already starts at $105,000 and offers massaging seats, “4D Surround Sound” that vibrates your buttocks, massaging seats, heated armrests, zero powertrain noise, the Hyperscreen, air suspension and a hundred other gadgets I don’t care to name. It is serene. It is stuffed to the gills. It is expensive.
It is free of problems to solve.
No one in their right mind would get out of an EQS SUV and demand more comfort, or more technology. You can’t say the seats aren’t comfortable, because they’re better than any seat you’ve ever sat in. You can’t demand anything specific, because it’s already got two dozen features you’d never have thought to ask for, including a perfume dispenser and a camera that scans the road ahead for bumps, allowing it to prepare the suspension.
All of that is available for under $150,000. It’s fair to ask why anyone would pony up another 50 large. I’m afraid that here is where we must depart the realm of the practical and send our rational thoughts packing. Because if you know anything about luxury, you know it’s not just about being good. It’s about being better.
Better Than The Rest
Having considered the pressing conundrum ultra-luxury automakers may face in an EV world, it would seem reasonable to conclude that they’ll go away. But one week in a Maybach EQS is a reminder that they won’t. There’s a simple fact behind that.
As long as there are cars, there will be people who want the best car.
Not one that’s comfortable enough; not one that solves their problems. People want something elevated, something that elevates them. The foundation of the Maybach EQS is not that the EQS isn’t good enough. It’s that it could be even better. And that those with the taste and wealth to understand that demand to set themselves apart.
That is why the Maybach arrived in a two-tone gold-and-black paint scheme, itself a $15,000 option. It’s why almost every Maybach EQS SUV or GLS you’ll see will have one, too. Step one is looking the part, and there the underlying Mercedes SUVs get off to a bad start. The EQS SUV is at best middling and on balance quite frumpy. Its smoothed-off shape avoids the soap-bar problem that plagues the EQ sedans, but replaces it with something with even less personality. There’s very little character on a base EQS SUV, which means you probably won’t notice one passing.
The Maybach EQS does not suffer that fate. With its golden halo, upright faux grille, proud hood ornament and gargantuan wheels, it demands your attention. It is not pretty, per se, in the same way that much of what goes down the runway during fashion week isn’t “nice.” It’s not here to seduce you with its beauty. It is a statement: I have arrived.
This despite the fact that, underneath, it is very much still an EQS SUV. It still has an EPA range of around 280 miles from its 118 kWh pack. Charging still peaks at 200 kW, with a meaty charge curve good for a 10-80 sprint in 31 minutes. It still has a dual-motor all-wheel-drive system with plenty of power on tap. The power upgrade is the only real appreciable difference. The Maybach makes 649 horsepower and 700 lb-ft of torque, up from 546 hp and 633 lb-ft of torque in the EQS 580. So you are not spending tens of thousands more to upgrade the EV experience. You’re paying for the best interior Mercedes can make, and an exterior that demands attention.
People notice. Over seven years into this business, I still haven’t gotten used to the way people treat you when you’re in a $200,000 car. In San Diego, where I live, there’s a begrudging deference, a side eye glance quickly darted away, a desire to observe without giving you the attention you so clearly desire. In New York, it was apathy. In Ohio, where I’m from, it was often wide-eyed respect. But a $200,000 car offers at least this guarantee: You must be considered.
It’s a weird feeling behind the wheel, especially if you—like me—did not actually earn it, do not own it. But it is one of the two reason people buy Rolls-Royces over S-Classes, Maybachs over Cadillacs, Bentleys over Jags. And with its unapologetic posture, its over-the-top paint and its interlocking M’s patterned over the fog lamp inserts, the Maybach announces your arrival as well as anything else.
What It’s Like
Yet that covers only half of the worth. The other reason people buy these is that the experience is genuinely better, if often in silly, unnecessary ways. Yet the silliness of opulence has its own charm. There’s no need for a champagne fridge in the second row—it’s not legal to use in many states—but the mere insinuation that the buyer may need it provides a sense of true occasion.
So too do the rear seats, cavernous lounge chairs that will lie nearly flat while they massage you. There’s a screen, too, for each rear passenger, and one to control all of the window shades and power seats and climate functions and sound system and who-can-remember what else.
There’s a display for the front passenger, too, along with a meaty center screen, a giant driver information cluster and one of the best head-up displays in the industry. There’s multicolor lighting everywhere, providing a bit of cognitive dissonance when it lights up the refined, stately cabin in bright purple LED light. But there’s the whimsy again. Make it blue, or multicolor, or rainbow. Or turn it off.
Enjoy, instead, the feeling of craftsmanship, of the things you touch all being soft and expensive. Enjoy whatever upholstery color, or wood trim or carpet you option. Enjoy the heavy, bunker doors and the perfectly weighted experience. Enjoy the feeling that everything is made well, made for you, made for a seamless experience.
Enjoy 649 all-electric horsepower, catapulting you onto the highway on one sustained wave of bottomless torque. Technically there is a limit there: 700 lb-ft, not that you’ll find it. Nobody takes an ultra-luxury SUV to 60 in 4.1 seconds, but you can do that in the Maybach if you’d like. Once you’ve caught your breath, notice the sound, or the lack of it. Notice the way it glides over bumps. Let it steer and accelerate on its own terms, executing its own lane-changes when it sees fit. Soak in the 15-speaker sound system. Relax. You’re worth it.
There’s the crux. Neither Maybach nor Rolls-Royce nor Bentley can convince you that the car is worth it on its own. Their marketing materials all emphasize the personalization options, the serenity you’ll feel driving and the sophistication of their respective buyer groups. It’s not that the car is worth it. You’re worth it.
Conclusion
I’m not sure I buy it, not least of which because I can’t buy it. I don’t have $200,000 to spend on a car. Most people don’t. So I can’t fathom ever seeing the value here myself. I’ve driven too many of these things for the mystery to remain compelling.
They are, after all, cars. That means you drive them on broken-down roads and park them in narrow garages. Their value is fleeting, an investment that only ever goes down. And because they are complicated machines made of thousands of parts all feeding information into ever-more computers, they are not perfect.
Like all modern Mercedes vehicles, the Maybach EQS is too eager to yell at you, to interrupt your serenity with its own cleverness. “Don’t forget your phone,” it says after I’ve already started reaching for my phone. “Put your hands on the wheel” it says while my hands are on the wheel. “Let me beep loudly about that car next to you in traffic,” it decides like all overly paranoid modern cars. The Maybach EQS is in many ways just as annoying as a regular Mercedes, and in no way a better EV. That last point probably doesn’t matter to the ultra-wealthy buyer, but I bet it matters to you. You may expect perfection at this price. But you won’t find it.
The truth is that the desire for the perfect experience is futile. A Rolls-Royce is less annoying, but twice the price. A Mercedes EQS SUV or Range Rover is 90% as good, but it won’t get you noticed—not like this, anyway. A Bentley Bentayga has a bit more old-world charm without so many screens blaring in your face, but it’s internal-combustion powertrain isn’t as seamless as the all-electric wonder underpinning the EQS.
So the answer to whether it’s worth it comes back to what you value. If you want an electric SUV that feels good, there are a half-dozen options at half the price. If you want to be better than those other buyers, to feel better, then $200,000 is merely the price of admission. Only you can answer whether that’s worth it.
Contact the author: Mack.Hogan@insideeevs.com.
