For five decades, BMW M built its reputation on a singular, almost monastic creed: less weight, more precision. The E30 M3 homologation special, the screaming naturally aspirated S54 straight-six in the E46 M3, the carbon-roofed E92 M3—each was a catechism in restraint, a reminder that the engineers in Garching worshipped at the altar of power-to-weight ratio.
That era is now officially over. The new M5, codenamed G90, arrives with a plug-in hybrid powertrain, a curb weight north of 2,400 kilograms, and a combined output of 727 horsepower. It is the heaviest, most complex sedan ever to wear the M badge, and it is also the clearest statement yet of where the sub-brand is heading: hybridisation not as a compromise, but as the new definition of dominance.
The Engineering Case
On paper, the argument is difficult to fault. The G90 M5 pairs BMW's venerable 4.4-litre S68 twin-turbo V8 with an electric motor integrated into the eight-speed M Steptronic transmission, drawing from an 18.6 kWh battery pack. The result is 1,000 Nm of torque, all-wheel drive through M xDrive, and a claimed 0-100 km/h sprint of 3.5 seconds—figures that would have seemed absurd in a family sedan a decade ago.
Yet the same specification sheet reveals the tension at the heart of the project: the hybrid hardware has added roughly 500 kilograms compared with the F90 it replaces. BMW M's answer is a chassis arsenal of staggering sophistication—adaptive M suspension, rear-wheel steering, an electronic limited-slip differential, and M Drift Analyser—all calibrated to mask mass the way a magician distracts an audience.
The Wagon Makes It Explicit
The M5 Touring makes the pivot even more explicit. For the first time since the E61, BMW M is offering a fast estate in the G99 generation, and it is available in the United States for the first time ever. The wagon signals that hybrid M cars are not fringe experiments but core products, aimed squarely at the Audi RS6 Avant and Mercedes-AMG E 63—rivals that have made identical calculations about electrification and weight.
The competitive logic is inescapable: in a market where 700-plus horsepower is the new entry ticket to the super-sedan club, the old purist arithmetic no longer wins races. You cannot out-accelerate a Porsche Taycan Turbo GT with a naturally aspirated six and a prayer.
Character, Preserved by Insistence
What BMW M insists it has not surrendered is character. The S68 V8 remains, deliberately, rather than a downsized six—a decision the engineers frame as a commitment to emotional engagement. The M Hybrid system's electric motor can fill torque gaps, sharpening throttle response in a way that turbo lag once made impossible.
In the XM, the controversial Label Red flagship, this same philosophy produced 748 horsepower and a plug-in architecture that can run silent through city centres before unleashing fury on a mountain pass. Whether that duality constitutes soul or merely simulation is the question that now divides the M faithful. The M2, still proudly combustion-only and rear-driven, has become a totem for those who answer in the negative.
A Calculated Hedge
The broader context is regulatory and unavoidable. Euro 7 emissions standards, fleet-average CO2 targets, and the sheer economics of electrification have made the lightweight, naturally aspirated M car a commercial impossibility. BMW M's hybrid strategy is a calculated hedge: preserve the combustion engine and the badge's performance credentials while buying time for battery technology to shed mass. The next generation of solid-state cells, promised later this decade, may yet return the M3 to a weight its forebears would recognise. Until then, the G90 M5 and its kin represent a deliberate trade—purity for supremacy, delicacy for dominance.
For the purist, the verdict is painful but honest: the E46 M3 CSL will never be built again, and no hybrid system will replicate the surgical feedback of a 1,385-kilogram coupe on a damp Nürburgring lap. But the G90 is not attempting to be that car. It is a statement of intent from a brand that has decided the future of performance is measured in kilowatts as much as in kilos—and that 700 horsepower, however it is delivered, remains the most persuasive argument in the room. BMW M has chosen its side. The scales, for now, tip toward power.