2009 Jaguar XF Supercharged

What is it with Jaguar and electronics? Joseph Lucas, of Lucas electric infamy (still remembered as the Prince of Darkness for the electrical eccentricities of post-WWII Jaguars, among others), has been dead for more than 100 years. And Lucas Industries is not even on the list of suppliers for the XF, but for some reason here’s a contemporary Jag that still seems to be plagued by electrical problems and quirks, even though Jaguar has steadily moved up the J.D. Power quality charts—even climbing to the top in some surveys. Still, in the age of the microchip, quirks involving secondary controls and the nav system can take in quite a bit of territory, diminishing appreciation of otherwise compelling attributes such as knockout styling, a beautiful interior, robust power, and irreproachable dynamics.

In our most recent Jaguar long-term test [“Beautiful Cat, A Few Hairballs,” June 2008], we blithely dismissed that XK convertible’s electric eccentricities by asking, “What’s a Jaguar without perplexing electrical gremlins?” But the XF is pitched as a total break with the past, and since its arrival on the scene Jaguar has new ownership, though Tata Motors of India’s stewardship began long after the XF design was locked in and the production line was pumping out cars.

We were willing to love this car almost at first sight and certainly at first drive. Early praise in the logbook sounded like this: “Very entertaining on back roads—provides a reassuring sense of certainty and precision, fortified by excellent grip. This is the best new Jag sedan in my memory, and my memory happens to be one that goes back a long way.”

Those words were written by your humble narrator who, like just about everyone else who hustled this car through a set of S-bends or switchbacks, regarded the XF as the dynamic equal of anything in the German mid-size, premium-sports-sedan class. This Jag has unflappable poise, mongoose reflexes, ample supercharged power with no waiting, and surprisingly supple ride quality for a car with firm suspension tuning and low-profile (255/35-20 front, 285/30-20 rear) Pirelli P Zero performance tires.

But familiarity bred irritation. For every performance plaudit in the logbook, there was at least one peevish entry about some function related to the car’s electronics. Worst under this heading was the occasional refusal to start. Push the start button and . . . nothing. This happened to several drivers, and we never were sure why. The system would always eventually spring to life after a little fooling around—hitting the lock and unlock buttons on the key fob, for example, or walking far enough from the car so its sensors could no longer detect the presence of the fob, or both. But a new car that won’t start immediately, first try every time, has trouble making and keeping friends.

There were other complaints, lesser in magnitude, but irritating nonetheless. The touch-screen secondary controls, for example, were tricky to understand, and it was also difficult to operate its many menus when the car was in motion. Programming the nav system was always a challenge, and the backup-camera display continued to show what was going on astern for several seconds after the transmission was back in D, something we’ve noticed in other rearview systems. This function also reduced the audio volume when it was operating, apparently to accentuate the radar pings of the parking sensors.

The touch-sensitive glove-box release worked readily for some, but it defied others and provoked plenty of invective. The chrome parking-brake switch on the center console got too hot to touch after long drives. Some found the instrument markings hard to read in daylight operation. Most disliked the overly assertive adaptive cruise control. The dial-a-gear JaguarDrive shifter, which rises slowly out of the center console when the driver starts the car, had few defenders.

And what would modern Jaguar tradition be without some electronic diagnostic hysteria? “Check engine” light-ups were frequent, enhanced from time to time by a “transmission fault” notice.

Those alleged problems were confined largely to the Jag’s electronic imagination, but a couple of others were real. One was minor: The rear sunshade (the, uh, electric-powered rear sunshade) stopped responding to its on-off switch. The other was a bit more serious. At the 10,000-mile maintenance stop, the dealer (Jaguar of Troy, Michigan) service crew discovered a leak in the rear diff, and the diff was replaced under warranty.Continued...