1. How did you come to the decision of buying this car?
This isn’t a love story about a long-cherished classic, nor is it a tale of hard-earned payoff after years of wrenching and woe. I’m just a guy who signed some papers and set up automatic bill payment at his credit union so he could drive a car with a fancy badge for a few months.
Well, okay—it’s a little more than that. It’s also a window into a world that I’m not a part of. I usually obsessively research and plan ahead for every major purchase I make, whether it’s a plane ticket, a television, or even a pair of dress shoes. Like most Americans, I have to, because I can’t afford to screw up. So many car purchases take place under duress, but this time I got to experience what it felt like to lease a new Jaguar (!) entirely on a whim (!!).
Choice of car aside, getting any vehicle—let alone a brand new one—solely because I wanted it and could afford it felt like a luxury experience in its own right. I now know I’ll probably never be able to enjoy such a luxury again, but more on that later.
Back in 2017, I’d been driving a 2005 Lincoln Town Car for about two years when I decided I needed a change. I figured that buying a low-mileage Town Car would be my last chance to experience a body-on-frame, rear-wheel-drive, V8-powered, American-built sedan (the 2005 was still put together in Wixom, MI). Before that, I’d driven a string of Priuses and sub-$5000 British and Swedish disasters. I’d been writing about cars professionally for about a decade at that point, so I’d spent time behind the wheel of almost every new non-exotic vehicle.
I caught a TV ad for a local Jaguar dealer, touting crazy good lease deals for the then-new XE. I’ve always been a fan of Jaguars— and even drove a beater XJ in college that I paid $3500 for. It had two different VINs, one salvage title, one clear title, and an odometer that said 145,000 miles—and I’d never been happier with a car. The pluckiness of the brand’s very survival combined with Jaguar’s anachronistic emphasis on comfort over sportiness appealed to me. And as an 18 year old kid who had grown up around Chevettes and Cavaliers, I felt like I was getting away with something. I wasn’t supposed to be in a car like that.
Leases aren’t an issue for me. At the time, I had access to press loaner cars and the easiest commute to my office was via public transportation, so I didn’t have to worry about racking up miles commuting.
Plus, I was familiar with the newer stuff coming out of the East Midlands, and I was a fan. I’d attended the New England press launch of the XE and written a review of the XF diesel, and came away from both experiences impressed with their low-end torque and high MPG. I also knew that in the aftermath of Dieselgate and cratering sedan sales, dealers were desperate to dump slow-selling, oil-burning, British-made, compact sedans. So I e-mailed the sales department to ask how much lower they could go than the advertised offer. (Never set your own goalposts in a negotiation—otherwise you’re negotiating against yourself.)
Within a few minutes I got back an e-mail with some insanely low numbers—$199/mo and $1499 down for a 33 month low-mileage lease. I’d paid more to lease a mid-level Prius a few years earlier, and I couldn’t find a Soul or a Corolla for that little. I added it all up: around $8,000 to drive a brand new diesel Jaguar for nearly three years? Sold. Well, leased.
I was convinced there was some bait-and-switch involved, but the process went off without a hitch. (I did catch one “math error” from the finance office, but it’s far from the worst dealer shenanigan I’ve experienced.) I signed, waited a few days for them to transfer my license plate (MA doesn’t do temp plates), and drove home. For the next 33 months, I’d be driving a Jaguar XE diesel.
2. What has your ownership experience been like?
Considering who I now work for, it’s exceptionally ironic that I drive a car with a history of unreliability and impracticality. (Don’t worry—I still practice what I preach: Friends and family members who ask me for car advice usually end up with something sensible.) The good news is that I’ve been incredibly lucky with the XE. I’ve only had three issues with the car: The infotainment system occasionally stops working, the rear passenger door handle got stuck for a few days, and the interior trunk handle came off in my hand (I snapped it right back on). It’s also fun filling up at truck stops, pulling up next to Sprinters and Ram 3500s. I wish my car was CarPlay compatible, and I would love it if the rear seats folded down because the trunk is so small as to be unusable.
Oh yeah—driving! There’s something delightful about how raw and powerful the diesel engine feels. It doesn’t have the airy zippiness of a gas turbo four, and the car isn’t neck-snappingly quick, but it’s responsive and agile. The engine and transmission are perfectly mated, and it’s a joy to blast around town at 2,500 RPM.
The worst thing about the car is knowing that it goes away in a few months, for good. Jaguar stopped making the XE diesel for 2020, and—Town Car aside—I’m happiest driving something that can average over 40 mpg, so the gas-powered XE doesn’t tick all the same boxes. Plus, the lease deals just aren’t the same.
I thought about purchasing it at the end of the lease, and the price would be right—but do I really want an out-of-warranty British car with an orphaned engine that was only sold by the hundreds?
3. What is your fondest memory with this car?
I have access to test cars for most of my daily driving, so the XE only really gets used on road trips. The best trip I’ve taken with it was to the Eastern Townships of Quebec. After a long highway slog up from the Boston area, there’s a bunch of quaint little villages connected by winding country roads. It’s the kind of driving the diesel XE is made for, and it could get me there and back on a single tank of diesel.
4. Why do you love cars?
To be honest, I struggle with this question more every day. It’s increasingly apparent that individual transportation choices have major consequences for the climate, for urban design, and for traffic violence.
But then there’s that famous Sir William Lyons quote: “The car is the closest thing we will ever create to something that is alive.” I think about the people who created every car I drive, and the vast amount of work that went into building such a complex machine. And there’s the freedom of hurtling down a winding country lane surrounded by autumn leaves and nothing else.
As much as I want to replace unnecessary car trips with public transit and work to create roads that are safer for all who use them, there’s still a joy that comes from being in control of a machine—and being acutely aware of the responsibility that entails. I suspect that joy will only increase as more tasks become automated in the future, and as personal vehicles become less relied-upon for thankless tasks like commuting.
Ed.: Keith works for Consumer Reports and is a regular on their Talking Cars podcast. He is also known for dressing up as a deer:
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If you would like to participate, just answer the above four questions and submit one to three photos of your daily driver to milhousevanh at geemail. Thanks and have fun!
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