While the CTS might look like the essence of composure and refinement from the outside, the inside is rather less impressive. The Cadillac’s problems are not enormous, more subtleties that together define whether you get out of the car after 500 miles feeling drained, fresh or somewhere in between. Generally, the CTS performs well, and it has strong points – good directional stability being one – but further travel reveals little imperfections.
The principle concern stems from the crude ride. Then there’s the road noise. A constant, distant drone from the tyres creeps up on you, adding unwanted fatigue on long journeys. Finally, the CTS’s long-distance cruising ability is dented by its thirst – our best effort was 27.2mpg, although 23mpg was more common – and a small 64-litre tank. This translates to a frustrating 325-mile real world range.
So can the CTS persuade buyers out of those German rivals? On paper it looks promising: a bigger, more powerful and better-equipped car for less money. But although the £29,850 asking price seems like good value, and the kit count is high, the running costs are going to be significantly higher than its European rivals’. Viewing the CTS as a 3-series rival, it offers significantly more space, but for the same money you can get a car from the class above (a 525i SE), which offers more room and more sophistication.
Then there’s the performance. The headline figures are great, and the reality isn’t bad, but the CTS doesn’t have a decisive advantage over smaller rivals, nor one delivered in a convincing fashion. Dynamically the Cadillac performs surprisingly well, but only because, as it’s an American saloon, your expectations are low. The handling is entertaining, but refinement, steering and brakes are only average and the ride and interior finish are sub-standard. It’s this quandary that undermines the CTS: it’s good, very good considering past efforts, but in a class dominated by Europe’s best, that isn’t good enough.