The 2025 Mini Cooper JCW is one of the more interesting new cars you can buy in the $40,000 range right now. Despite ditching the optional manual transmission for 2025, I have to admit I enjoyed driving this new model even more than the previous one. However, as is often the problem with Minis, I really hated some of its quirks and poor tech experience.
The car still runs a 2.0-liter, turbo-four, but the new model makes considerably more torque, and the six-speed manual and eight-speed auto transmissions have been replaced by a new seven-speed dual-clutch unit.
JCW, or John Cooper Works, is the high-performance model in the Mini lineup. John Cooper did not invent the Mini, but he prepped them for racing and made them cool back in the ’60s. John Cooper Works, founded by his son, Michael Cooper, was established as an in-house tuner around the turn of the millennium when Mini was relaunched as a BMW brand. JCW itself was officially acquired by BMW later in 2006. Since then, there’s been a JCW trim of every new Mini generation.
Comments around this Mini are largely dismissive—mostly along the lines of, “too expensive,” “too slow,” “no manual no care.” The car may not be exceptionally exciting on paper, but it’s a hell of a lot of fun in real life.
It has the lightweight, tossable, boosted feeling of a dialed-in tuner car, which is exactly what a JCW should be. I love rowing my own gears, but the dual-clutch is very satisfying to snap through with the paddle shifters. And it’s very deft in fully automatic mode. “Street-legal go-kart” is Mini’s schtick, and I think the people who made this car did a surprisingly good job of baking a feeling of rowdiness into it without making it feel cheap—with the exception of the sound effects, which I’ll come back to later.
The supportive sport seats keep your butt and torso firmly held in place while cornering hard, allowing you to focus on what your hands are doing with the steering wheel. I experienced a little torque-steer under aggressive acceleration in some instances, but didn’t find it particularly bothersome or prevalent. Understeer, another annoying trait you often find in sporty front-drive cars, is more of a pain point when it happens, though you have to be pushing the car pretty hard to induce it. More importantly, you can have loads of fun without stepping too far into police-attention territory. Likewise, the brakes are great, solid stopping power but not overly eager to spill your coffee.
Even with its cloth materials and lack of a normal gauge cluster, the Mini feels more upscale than the FWD-hot hatch icon Honda Civic Type R, and much more upscale than a Toyota GR Corolla. So if you’re cross-shopping other sport compacts, the premium you pay for this comes with tangible benefits some people will appreciate.
The car gained a little weight this year, yes, but it is still about 3,000 pounds before anybody climbs in. The torque increase for 2025 from 236 lb-ft to 280 lb-ft is definitely palpable. The car digs out of a slow roll much harder than the previous model.
The 2025 model also feels a little firmer than the 2024 I spent a week roaming around Wales in last year. But unlike an actual go-kart, the ride quality’s damn good. You’ll still want to avoid potholes, but I found the new Mini JCW quite comfortable for longer drives on okay roads of New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania.
The design is pretty much perfect—Mini hasn’t really messed with the look of its core two-door Cooper models since the brand was re-launched over 20 years ago, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s a good thing. A Mini coupe, like a Porsche 911 or Jeep Wrangler, has an iconic look that just feels right as-is.
As for cargo and rear passenger space, well, it’s limited but not terrible. I’m a scrawny six feet tall and could sit in the back no problem. I was able to take a weekend trip with my wife and dog and fit our two overnight bags behind the back seats. Much like the Mini’s basic shape hasn’t changed, neither has the luggage capacity.
The exterior gets some cosmetic tweaks for 2025, but the cabin is where you’ll really notice aesthetic changes. The circular infotainment screen, a Mini hallmark for some time, is now bigger than ever and loaded with more whimsy than Paddington Bear eating a marmalade sandwich in a hot air balloon.
Besides ditching the manual transmission, however, Mini killed another feature I really liked: the steering column-mounted gauge cluster. Now you can only get vehicle information from the heads-up display (which is still projected on a small sub-screen, not the windshield), or the moon-sized circular infotainment screen, which is awful.
When you first start the car, you’re treated to an unbelievably long animation ceremony featuring a little cartoon bulldog who appears like Clippy in an old Microsoft Word document. Mercifully, you can deactivate this, but it sets the tone for what your experience with Mini’s software is going to be like; lots of head-scratching at lights and colors that serve absolutely no purpose.
The worst part is that the system’s so busy dancing and singing that it kind of sucks at basic functionality. The interface has so much cheesy nonsense like transition animations, theme songs, and more. Aesthetically, it’s quite customizable, except, for some reason, Mini puts arbitrary guardrails that really annoyed me.
When you cycle through a bunch of different visual skins, which Mini calls “Experiences,” you can set which one you want to be your default. I liked the Go-Kart experience most, but it wouldn’t let me set it as a default—I had to pick something else. Even deeper in the customization menu, I found a display I liked even more—a simple speedometer. Not only can that not be a default, but if you want to use it every time you drive, you have to dig through multiple menus to find it. Why?
Even some of the conceptually cooler features are hampered by manufactured digital drama. There’s a Boost mode that Mini claims will crank up boost pressure to increase power by 10 percent for 10 seconds, which is a neat idea, but when you activate it, the screen shifts to an insanely distracting animated countdown from 10—every second, the background changes and moves. What the heck were they thinking?
Finally, the Mini’s most egregious try-hard feature: fake exhaust burbles played inside the cabin. Hearing it recorded through my phone and then played on your headphones won’t capture the effect—you’ll have to take my word for it that it’s decidedly artificial sounding and quite cringey. Mini might call it some kind of enhancement, but it’s a song played purely for entertainment. Outside, the car simply sounds like it’s minding its own business.
As much as I hated fiddling with Mini’s misguided attempt to make a unique digital interface, I really enjoyed driving the car. I love that it’s taut but comfortable, both in terms of the interior appointments and the way it rides. It feels quick and fun without being terrifying or taking you to Ticket Town every time you step on it. Visibility is good, driving posture and position are great, and if you travel with only one more person, there’s plenty of room for cargo.
The Mini JCW isn’t superior to its more high-end rivals, the $45,000 and up VW Golf R, Toyota GR Corolla, Honda Civic Type R, and Acura Integra Type S. However, I can understand why somebody would pick this over those. It looks great, feels good, and has a little more Euro aura than the other cars I just mentioned.
Not everyone’s going to have the patience to live with Mini’s current interface, it’ll be a deal-breaker for some people. But even without three pedals, the Mini Cooper JCW is one of my favorite cars this year so far. Maybe next time I’ll just pull the fuse for that dumb fake exhaust sound.
Great to drive, annoying to use. Still a uniquely charming option in this niche category of sports cars.
Automotive journalist since 2013, Andrew primarily coordinates features, sponsored content, and multi-departmental initiatives at The Drive.
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