Defender vs Land Cruiser vs Grenadier in ultimate 4x4 showdown

We wanted both in their most capable guises, which is why we’ve got a short-wheelbase Defender 90 D350 (with optional air suspension and configurable Terrain Response driveline, active rear differential and all-terrain tyres) and a Grenadier 3.0T petrol Trialmaster (with optional Rough Pack consisting of locking diffs front and rear, and BF Goodrich all-terrain tyres).

But can either prove itself to be superior, both off the road and on it, to the inheritor of probably the toughest automotive reputation in all motordom?

The new Land Cruiser comes to us in 2.8 D-4D First Edition form, with locking rear diff and disconnecting front anti-roll bar as standard, optional Yokohama all-terrain tyres and a suspiciously Camel Trophy-looking shade of Metallic Sand paint.

Sizing them up

You might not expect a modern Land Rover to be capable of playing the little guy in any Autocar comparison exercise – but just look at this one.

Ineos has no plans for a short-wheelbase Grenadier. Toyota remains mute about any possibility of a short-wheelbase J250 Land Cruiser.

So if you want a car with a shorter wheelbase naturally better suited to off-roading in the first place (check out the breakover angles on p45 for proof of the difference it makes), the Land Rover has a big advantage straight away.

That you don’t see so many Defender 90s on the road probably tells you plenty about how much off-roading buyers of this car actually have in mind (although a 110 remains a seriously capable 4x4, as it has proven on these pages before).

Still, what more can Land Rover do? If you want one, have one. It’s choice. As far as Toyota, Ineos and the impact on the result of this group test are concerned, choice may well turn out to be something of a bitch.

More fortunately for others, that isn’t the only natural advantage that applies here. Not counting its mirrors, the Ineos is 1930mm wide, or 50mm narrower than the Toyota and nearly 70mm skinnier than the Land Rover.

When it comes to threading it between rocks and through gaps, that could make a difference, as could the fact that you sit a little higher at the wheel of the Grenadier, with a clearer view of the extremities of the car and its straighter, more sheer sides.

Equally, though, the Grenadier’s near-3.0m wheelbase makes me worry for its manoeuvrability. But it does have lots of practical touches that are ideal for off-road use, such as outsized switchgear that you can easily operate with a gloved hand, and drainage holes so you can hose out muddy floors and footwells.

For all its size, the Grenadier’s cabin packaging isn’t really a patch on that of the Land Cruiser, which offers seven seats as standard and plenty of room in rows one and two.

But the Ineos does seem like a car designed and built expressly for off-roading, in a way that so many ‘off-roaders’ don’t.

When you make the interior muddy, as inevitably happens on these occasions, you don’t think you’re doing the Grenadier a disservice, whereas the Land Rover’s cabin is so neat and lovely that you feel like you’re defiling it.

Mud and thunder

Eyes down, wellies on and low range engaged, then. How do these cars compare as conveyances ready to take you a long, long way off road?

This will sound like a cop-out but  there really isn’t one outstanding off-roader here. There are at least two – and the worst might even be the most fit-for-purpose car of the trio.

For climbing – scaling steep Scottish fells mountain rescue-style and needing unwavering confidence that no gradient will be beyond you – take the Defender. The sheer grip, security and controllability it has in extremis put it in a league of one in so many ways.

That doesn’t only make driving it easier. It also gives you options. If you need to pick your way slowly up a muddy slope, or stop, roll back and then restart, you can.

The Land Rover’s clever active driveline and suspension seem to be able to read your mind. It will lock and unlock its active diffs, pump down a wheel to find contact with the ground and recalibrate its stability control without you even knowing it’s happening.

And it simply could not be easier or more reassuring to drive, for which – when you are at 40deg, in perilous circumstances and, I dunno, perhaps want to keep your passengers from panicking – there’s probably an awful lot to be said.

Then again… if I were setting out on a three-month-long jungle expedition along rutted and cratered tracks, and across makeshift bridges and shallow rivers, I think I’d prefer the Land Cruiser – and the Grenadier would make at least a fairly close rival for the Defender.

For wheel articulation – a factor much more likely to define an off-roader’s ability to avoid becoming beached on a rock, bank or tree stump than static ground clearance – the Grenadier does very well indeed. Its cantilevered axles move as one, reaching out below on one side as the opposing wheel is compressed, to better cradle the car’s body than most independent suspension systems ever could.

It’s a car you have to drive very deliberately, though. Decide up front how many levers to throw and buttons to press, and then live with your decisions for both good and bad.

You often find the right way to proceed via trial and error, and in spite of a pretty terrible turning circle that only gets worse when you start locking diffs.

The Ineos has other shortcomings. When it’s climbing steeply, the petrol engine can come up a little short for accessible torque and start to bog down. It feels heavier than its rivals too – because it is, by some 400kg.

But it does feel like the default off-roading enthusiast’s choice here – the one you might get the biggest kick out of from successfully scaling the north face of the Eiger in because, a bit like some lightweight sports car, it tells you very clearly when you’re operating it well, and when you’re not.

As for the Toyota? Crikey, it just gets on with it. That long rear overhang would be easy to clout on rocks or ridges and the breakover angle makes the underbody a bit vulnerable. But somehow, it doesn’t seem to matter.

Find a car with a greater appetite for punishment than this, I dare you.Having so much torque at low revs, that four-cylinder engine is incredibly well suited to grunting around up slopes and over obstacles.

It combines superbly well with a torque-converter gearbox that itself winds up like some kinetic snatch tow rope to twang the drive through, multiplying it usefully at low revs.

You seldom need more than 2500rpm to get where you intend in this car – and, thanks to the new electromechanical power steering system, it’s so much easier to steer than the lumpy, inconsistent-feeling tiller of the Grenadier.

The Land Cruiser’s electronics for the traction, suspension and diff don’t feel as clever as the Defender’s but, with just a bit of forethought, the end result is mostly the same.

And you would bet on it being the same 99 days out of 100, in the harshest and most remote places on the planet.

Because, despite its fairly plush cabin and selectable drive modes, there’s really only as much complexity to the Toyota as it absolutely needs – and that familiar, striking sense of mechanical robustness that neither the Defender nor the Grenadier can quite match is present in abundance.

Time to hit the road

Off road, then, this contest is one of particular horses – or heavy-laden, hard-working draft bullocks, if you prefer – for courses. For a clear winner, we will have to look to the road, where, I have to say, the outcome becomes a lot plainer.

We have touched on the daily-use practicality, comfort and ownership appeal of these cars a little already. As a 90, the Land Rover would be a bit of a pain for families because of the back-row entry and exit rigmarole.

The boot feels a bit like opening a bank vault’s door on the interior of a music box. But so what? Ninety per cent of this car’s off-road capability is fathoms more than you will probably ever need. Just have a 110 instead.

The Land Rover’s interior is certainly the most inviting and pleasant place here. It’s followed at least fairly closely by the Toyota’s (roomy, solid, comfortable and well furnished, though not in any way rich or luxurious) and really rather distantly by the Ineos’s (a little perched and tight-feeling up front, comfortable enough – just – for adults in the back, with quite a cleverly configured and roomy split tailgate boot, but very deliberately short on frippery and decoration).

So, on balance, the Land Cruiser looks like it might just force its way to the head of the field initially – until the driving starts.

That’s when the clattery drone of the Toyota’s long-stroke four-cylinder diesel engine starts to contrast starkly with the muted hum of the Land Rover’s straight six.

Then the slightly fiddly, fidgety, body-on-frame ride of the Land Cruiser, improved though it may be relative to the old car, contrasts with the more settled, smooth, quiet and fluent ride of the Defender.

And the ability of the Land Rover to hunker down a little on its air springs and corner amazingly sweetly on that shortened wheelbase just takes the test away from the inevitably  more ponderous and less biddable Toyota.

Where’s the Grenadier? Best not to ask. This car has the sort of handling and steering on the road that would make you assume it must be utterly peerless off it – and probably a little disappointed to learn the reality, however nuanced it may be.

That recirculating ball steering has such a dearth of centre feel and positivity that steering dead ahead is a job of constant correction and exiting tighter bends requires as much input as entering them.

The ride is fairly soft and settled enough, and though it’s notably noisier at a cruise than either the Toyota or the Land Rover, its BMW-sourced straight six does at least give the car motorway performance that an original Land Rover could only dream of. But it’s always compromised, not very modern-feeling and a little uncouth.

What the Grenadier ably does, as much as this may infuriate some of the key people who created it, is to illustrate by contrast what a world-class bit of engineering and shining example of technological leadership the modern Defender is.

If the latter had to win this test on off-road ability alone, it would have – with its singular drivability, traction and dependable composure in any terrain.

But take into account its stunning breadth of dynamic ability as a road car, its desirability as a product and its understated luxury appeal, and its superiority remains utterly clear and totally undeniable.

The Toyota Land Cruiser is very good and the Ineos Grenadier at least singular and different. But the Land Rover Defender proves that an outstanding dual-purpose on- and off-road remit can be served without bad manners, rough edges or comfort compromises.

It’s a car that has clearly already won its commercial success, but it also continues, rather vividly, to earn it.