4 Series, i3 or Mini JCW GP: The best BMW for £40,000

The fundamentals of the i3 need no updating. Its carbonfibre core remains unique at this price, and an airy cabin serves an intriguing mix of artfully modern furnishings and virtue-signalling recycled stuff.

The sensation of difference is evident from the moment you switch on and hear nothing. The silence of EVs is becoming more common, but if internal combustion is what you’re used to, the i3’s placid nature will impress. So will its go, which is startling if you’re unfamiliar with an EV’s all-you-can-eat torque. This is, in fact, the second-fastest of our trio, its 7.3sec 0-62mph just shading the 420i’s 7.5sec. So it’s calming yet fast.

Less relaxing is the i3’s ride, which turns sudden on choppier roads, with suspension less supple than its non-sporting design implies. It nevertheless changes direction cleanly unless you add ambitious pace, at which point its slender-tyred trade-off between low-rolling resistance and outright grip becomes eye-wideningly apparent.

The i3’s improved battery isn’t enough to totally extinguish range anxiety, but the usage patterns and charging habits you’ll develop as an owner will quell that. Other debits include the less than convenient sequential door opening (fronts before rears), the small, battery-invaded boot, the ageing display graphics and the inconveniently sited charging socket. Yet the i3 still looks like tomorrow’s car – it even makes the 420i look slightly dated – and in its construction if not range, it is more advanced than VW’s ID 3.

For a wild contrast, step aboard the Mini GP. Step down in fact, because the GP’s semi-encasing seats lie much lower than the i3’s. There are only two seats: the GP’s extreme spec dispenses with the back bench, replaced by a red strengthening crossbar intended to prevent baggage entering the passenger zone from a much-enlarged boot. More striking than this are the carbonfibre barge-board wheel-arch extensions, a satisfyingly complex roof wing, a snowplough of a front spoiler and big, disc-exposing 18in alloys.

The black interior is a bit plain, but you won’t have time to notice when you get going. This Mini writhes with acceleration and the combined forces of torque, topography and your directional ambitions. It torque-steers, chases down cambers, fights itself, wheelspins and generally requires two hands on the wheel at all times, despite the standard Torsen diff.

Big tyres deliver big grip, and if you shift those eight gears manually, huge torque and a low 6500rpm rev limit guarantee frantic paddle plucking. This suggests a slight lack of finesse, and yes, there is less than previous Mini GPs have managed. This isn’t quite buffed to the standard of previous GPs, yet it is not a one-dimensional bend obliterator. This mad Mini is unexpectedly civil on motorways, and its suspension is able to round off sharp bumps with surprising panache.

Don’t expect refinement of the 420i’s level, though. That car’s quiet cruising demeanour is still more restful than the i3’s. You sit aboard a finely furnished, well-ordered cabin of satisfyingly high quality. It’s easy to feel all is well with the world in here, as deluded as that might sound these days. The sports car in this coupé is a little harder to find, however. Its acceleration never feels more than adequately brisk, and at times the chassis could be communicating from another room, so remote is the steering’s feel. It’s a sensation compounded by the lack of weighting as cornering forces build. But you get used to it, at which point you can appreciate a well-balanced, agile chassis that slices bends with easy precision. With adaptive dampers the ride is mostly civil, too. This car is well balanced in every sense, as one might expect of a model so closely related to the polished 3 Series.