\n<\/p>\n
When JFK declared we’re going to the moon, there was no agreed-upon plan. Sure, very smart engineers at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory had probably thought about it, maybe even penciled a calculation or two on the back of a napkin, but the presidential declaration made the need for a viable plan very real. There were many proposals and ultimately the concept that won\u2014and got Apollo 11 to and from the moon\u2014focused on extreme svelteness. The lunar program relied on saving every possible gram it could because the math of such a galactic undertaking, literally, is that adding weight requires more fuel, which itself increases weight. It’s a case of diminishing returns, ergo lightness won.<\/p>\n
The BMW M5<\/a> has not followed a similar path, though it is unfair to single out this one model, or even BMW. Every car company has made larger and heavier models over the last 30 years. But as BMWs grew, the brand introduced smaller cars\u2014with a numerically smaller name, in some cases\u2014to fill the vacated spot. While arguably more capable than ever, do not hate the new plug-in hybrid M5 because it weighs almost exactly as much as a 2019 BMW X5 xDrive50i<\/a> or more than a 2024 Mercedes-AMG GLE53<\/a>. Do not hate it because it is dimensionally larger than a 1996 BMW 740i. It may wear the same badge, but it will never do what an E39 M5<\/a> can do, in part because it weighs 1275 pounds more. (That would be 5251 pounds, which represents a 139-pound deduction from BMW’s published curb weight, so that was a nice surprise. That said, the carbon-ceramic brakes and carbon-fiber roof are the lightest way to spec an M5.) Much like the M3, when it lost the V-8,<\/a> don’t hate the M5 for what it isn’t. Love it for what it is.<\/p>\n