We Drove The Porsche Taycan Turbo GT Weissach And It Solved A Problem EVs Have Had For Years

The Porsche Taycan has spent the last few years occupying a rather unusual position in the automotive world. It has been the answer enthusiasts reluctantly give when somebody asks which electric car is actually worth driving. Fast, beautifully engineered and surprisingly engaging, it always felt closer to a proper Porsche than many expected. Now comes the Taycan Turbo GT Weissach, the most extreme Porsche Taycan yet, and with it arrives a question that feels more important than any acceleration figure or lap record: has Porsche finally built the performance EV that makes us stop talking about EVs and start talking about driving?

The Porsche Taycan learns how to make you grin

It’s easy to become distracted by the numbers because Porsche has given us plenty of them. The Taycan Turbo GT Weissach produces up to 760kW and 1340Nm during launch control, reaches 100km/h in 2.2 seconds and storms through 200km/h in around 6.4 seconds. Those figures place it in the same conversation as hypercars, which feels faintly ridiculous when you’re looking at something that still has four doors, a boot and cupholders.

The trouble is that numbers stopped being the interesting part of fast electric cars some time ago. Every new performance EV arrives with another outrageous power figure and another launch control demonstration designed to rearrange your internal organs. The industry solved acceleration years ago. What it hadn’t solved, at least not completely, was enjoyment. I arrived expecting the Taycan Turbo GT to be devastatingly quick. I left thinking about entirely different things.

The first surprise is how natural the car feels from behind the wheel. Modern performance cars often overwhelm you with modes, settings and layers of technology. The Taycan Turbo GT is undoubtedly packed with technology, but it doesn’t constantly remind you about it. Instead, it gets on with the job of making a two-tonne electric saloon behave in ways that seem mildly unreasonable.

The steering is a perfect example. There is enough weight to inspire confidence, enough precision to place the car accurately and enough communication coming through the wheel that you always understand what the front tyres are doing. That’s not something I can say about every performance EV. Many are enormously capable but oddly distant. The Porsche Taycan manages to feel connected.

The grip levels are extraordinary. Porsche worked with Pirelli to develop bespoke Trofeo RS tyres for the Taycan Turbo GT and the result is a car that seems capable of carrying impossible speed through corners. You arrive at a corner convinced the car must surely run out of grip, only for the front axle to tuck in obediently while the suspension somehow keeps everything composed.

Porsche’s Active Ride suspension deserves much of the credit here. The system continuously controls pitch, dive and roll, but what matters isn’t the technology itself. What matters is the confidence it gives the driver. The Taycan Turbo GT feels stable, predictable and approachable at speeds that would make most road cars feel nervous.

What struck me most was that I gradually stopped paying attention to the fact I was driving an electric car. The lack of engine noise felt important for the first few days. Then I found myself concentrating on braking points, corner exits and steering inputs instead. By the end of the day, the conversation in my own head had shifted away from batteries and motors and towards the same things I think about when driving any genuinely good performance car.

The acceleration remains completely absurd, of course. There is no great mechanical crescendo, no screaming V10 or naturally aspirated flat-six building drama towards the horizon. Instead, there is a sudden and relentless surge that compresses distance in a way that feels unnatural. The scenery doesn’t rush towards you so much as teleport itself closer. Yet the remarkable thing is how quickly that party trick becomes secondary to the rest of the driving experience.

That’s where the Taycan Turbo GT differs from so many rivals. A Tesla Model S Plaid remains one of the quickest cars on sale, but the acceleration often feels like the destination. In the Porsche Taycan, the acceleration is merely one ingredient.

The Weissach package might be slightly mad

Then there’s the Weissach package itself, which feels like the result of Porsche engineers being left unsupervised for too long.

The recipe sounds straightforward enough. Remove the rear seats, delete some sound insulation, trim weight wherever possible and fit a large fixed rear wing. In reality, it creates one of the strangest production cars currently on sale. This is a four-door electric saloon with no rear seats, a decision that somehow manages to be both ridiculous and completely brilliant.

The missing rear seats are impossible to ignore because the empty space behind you constantly reminds you of the lengths Porsche has gone to in pursuit of performance. The cabin itself feels noticeably more hollow than a regular Taycan. At one point I discovered that speaking loudly produced a faint echo, which is not something I’ve ever written about a Porsche before.

Whether the Weissach package is actually worth it is a more complicated question. The weight reduction is meaningful on paper, but not transformative enough to completely alter the character of the car. If I were spending my own money, I’d probably choose the standard Taycan Turbo GT and keep the extra practicality. The Weissach package feels less like a necessity and more like an indulgence.

That isn’t necessarily a criticism. Some of the best enthusiast cars are indulgent. Nobody buys a GT3 RS because it represents a rational transport solution, and nobody buys a Taycan Turbo GT Weissach for similar reasons. Cars like this exist because engineers occasionally deserve the opportunity to build something slightly unreasonable.

Away from the racetrack, the Porsche Taycan remains surprisingly usable. There’s a decent front boot, useful rear cargo space and enough comfort that long journeys wouldn’t feel like a punishment. The optional sports seats are particularly impressive, providing support when driving hard without turning every commute into a physiotherapy session.

The infotainment system remains the weakest part of the experience. It’s perfectly functional, but Porsche still feels more comfortable engineering suspension systems than software interfaces. The menus occasionally require more attention than they should, and there are moments where the digital experience doesn’t quite match the brilliance of the mechanical package surrounding it.

The sound system is also a victim of the Weissach package’s weight-saving obsession. Some owners may miss the additional audio hardware found in other Taycan models. Personally, I spent most of my time listening to tyres, suspension and wind noise because they provided a surprisingly detailed soundtrack of their own.

Ultimately, that’s what makes this car so significant. The Porsche Taycan Turbo GT doesn’t solve the performance EV problem because it’s faster than everything else. Something quicker will eventually arrive. Someone will build a car with more power, more torque and an even more ridiculous acceleration figure.

What Porsche has achieved is far more interesting. It has built an electric sports car that generates the same sort of anticipation I associate with great driver’s cars. You look forward to the next corner. You look forward to the next stretch of road. You find yourself taking the longer route home.

I climbed out of the Taycan Turbo GT expecting to remember the acceleration. Instead, I remembered the steering, the confidence, the grip and the way the whole car seemed to encourage me to drive it harder. For years, performance EVs have been busy proving they could outperform petrol-powered cars. The Porsche Taycan Turbo GT Weissach is the first one I’ve driven that feels entirely unconcerned with proving anything at all.

And that’s why it solves the problem. Finally, a truly fun EV.