
This week's test of the all-new diesel-powered Lexus RX300 has suffered a slight technical hitch: there isn't one. In fact, you have to look very hard to find the D word anywhere within Lexus's lexicon, the only option being the recently introduced 2.2 litre engine in the IS saloon. Alongside Porsche and Ferrari (who at least have an excuse) Lexus's passion for diesel technology is on a par with George Bush's love for Friends of the Earth.
There is an alternative though. Roll forward, the new RX400h. This is Lexus's attempt to atone for its gas-guzzling sins and a chance for school-run mums who want to ferry their clutch in high fashion but with a little less environmental assault.
So the h stands for 'hybrid'?
Sure thing. Here we have two electric motors - one for each axle - and a petrol unit between them. Together, the three power the car, the drive system enlisting their support to varying degrees, depending on the immediate power demand. Drive away slowly and gently and you're using nothing but electric propulsion; demand more power and the engine (very smoothly) kicks in, demand more again and mid-range back-up comes from the electric motors to boost the traditional performance.
Sounds like a wonderful idea
And it is. In fact, if there's any due criticism of the RX400, it relates to its conception, not the execution. Thanks to the use of a continuously variable transmission - as in cousin-car the Toyota Prius - there are no lumpy gearchanges to upset the smooth acceleration. And, although you can prod the dashboard to get a feverishly complicated image of how the car's various power sources are keeping you going (it's like a Magnox in motion), the actual driving experience is totally non-alien. There's also the issue of the Lexus standard to keep up. This is the marque, remember, that set out to emulate Mercedes Benz and then seemed to find no problem in trouncing it. Here, there's no sign of let up. The RX can get a little flustered by bumpy country lanes negotiated at low speed, but it's a limo on stilts elsewhere. Progress around town is positively ghostly, especially given the system's reliance of dead-silent electricity in slow crawls.
How does it rate on the social street?
You don't have to have the back catalogue of Busta Rhymes to know this badge is the apex of cool. And this model certainly carries it well. Spec your H in metallic black (or anything but dreary old silver) and you have one very strong statement of auto-chic. Perhaps not quite as edgy as Range Rover's new Sport, but up there with the Touaregs and XC90s of this world. The ¯¿½35,485 entry-level model has Xenons, electric seats, eight-speaker sound system, cruise control and a six CD autochanger, plus those all-important blacked-out side windows.







