Having just 150deg of movement between locks ensures you never have to take your hands off the steering ‘wheel’, which is why the yoke shape works.

Weirdly, it imparts ever so slightly more information about grip levels than the conventional steering. The very variable ratio robs you of the last 5% of precision, which would be a problem on a sports car but isn’t on a comfy SUV.

The yoke will actually benefit Toyota’s bZ4X even more, since its driving position seems completely set up for it, with that Peugeot-style high-set gauge cluster. The RZ is more conventional in that respect, with clear digital gauges and a relatively low driving position for an electric SUV.

Its materials are a cut above the bZ4X’s too, thankfully, although they are very spec-dependent. Higher trims bring the soft leather and interesting technical materials to rival the GV60, but lower ones introduce some coarser leather and cheaper plastics.

Every time I looked at the RZ’s spec sheet for this review, I was surprised at the outside dimensions. At 4805mm in length, it’s a fair bit longer than the bZ4X, Hyundai Ioniq 5 and Skoda Enyaq, yet I’m struggling to figure out where that extra length has gone, because the RZ doesn’t feel any more spacious inside than those cars. Sure, adults won’t be short on rear legroom and the 522-litre boot is decent, but that’s equally true of those smaller cars.

Where the RZ is decidedly behind the pace is the rather basic infotainment. Especially since a lot of drivers will simply default to phone mirroring for navigation and media, the car’s settings are needlessly hard to reach. And given there are quite a few irritating bongs to turn off, you’re confronted with that on every drive.