Porsche just announced their 2026 911 Turbo S makes 701 horsepower. Seven hundred and one. Let that sink in for a moment; that’s more power than most people know what to do with, stuffed into a car that was already faster than 99% of drivers could ever safely exploit.
And yet here we are, collectively losing our minds over those extra 61 ponies, when chances are we won’t ever get to use that much power on the road to begin with (but if you track your Porsche, we offer you the utmost respect).
Don’t get me wrong, I love a good power figure as much as the next car enthusiast. There’s something primal about big numbers that makes our lizard brains light up like a pickup truck’s LED headlights; it’s just an automatic response at this point. But somewhere along the way, we’ve collectively lost the plot, turning every new car reveal into a horsepower power creep while ignoring whether any of this actually matters and if a majority of drivers will actually enjoy what matters most: the driving experience.
The Numbers Game Nobody Asked For
The new Turbo S shaved 14 seconds off its Nürburgring time — a genuinely impressive feat that speaks to real-world performance gains. But here’s the thing: most owners will never see the Nürburgring, let alone drive it at ten-tenths. They’ll use this 701-horsepower missile to creep through traffic jams and impress people at a car meet (you know, where you are stationary).
Meanwhile, Porsche’s engineers are jumping through increasingly elaborate hoops to hit these arbitrary power targets. The new T-Hybrid system requires two electric turbos, a 1.9-kWh battery, a complex 400-volt electrical system, and a complete rethinking of how ancillaries are powered. All this complexity to add 61 horsepower to a car that was already unreasonably quick.
However, all this horsepower comes with great responsibility. And by responsibility, I mean potentially expensive for future owners. The old 992.1 Turbo S was already a technological marvel, but it was relatively straightforward: big engine, two turbos, lots of boost, go fast. Simple.
The new car? It’s basically a computer on wheels. You’ve got electric motors spinning up the turbos, another e-motor integrated into the PDK, a high-voltage battery system, and every accessory running off the electrical system instead of good old-fashioned belts. What happens when that 400-volt system decides to take a vacation? What’s the repair bill when one of those electric turbos gives up the ghost?
Don’t even get me started on the poor technicians who’ll have to diagnose issues. “Well, it could be the engine, or the hybrid system, or the electrical turbos, or the battery management system, or…” You get the picture.
Missing the Forest for the Trees
The irony is that Porsche already makes some of the most engaging sports cars on the planet. The 911 GT3, with its naturally aspirated engine and manual transmission option, regularly gets praised for being one of the purest driving experiences money can buy. It makes 502 horsepower — nearly 200 less than the new Turbo S — and nobody complains it’s underpowered.
Why? Because it’s not about the numbers on paper; it’s about how the car makes you feel. The connection between driver and machine. The engine’s sound, steering precision, and chassis feedback are all key aspects. These are the things that separate a great sports car from a fast appliance. Porsche owners and enthusiasts take pride in their cars, which prioritize driving over raw horsepower numbers that are often unusable.
The original 911 Turbo from the 1970s made around 260 horsepower and was absolutely terrifying; in the best possible way. It had character, personality, and just enough unpredictability to keep you honest. Modern 911s are undoubtedly faster, safer, and more capable, but somewhere along the way, they’ve become almost too good. Too clinical. Too obsessed with being the fastest rather than the most fun. Doing anything necessary to increase a car’s horsepower. Porsche itself describes this new 911 as “pushed to the absolute limit,” and we’re left wondering why it was pushed to begin with.
The Real World Reality Check
Let’s be brutally honest: outside of a racetrack, the difference between 640 and 701 horsepower is academic (and hey, we aren’t denying that plenty of owners do track their cars). Both figures are so far beyond what you can use on public roads that arguing about which is “better” is a waste of energy.
The 0-60 time allegedly drops by 0.2 seconds —a difference that’s essentially imperceptible to human senses and completely irrelevant in real-world driving. Meanwhile, that extra complexity is going to cost owners thousands in maintenance over the car’s lifetime, all for bragging rights that matter to approximately nobody outside internet forums.
Here’s a radical idea: what if we stopped caring so much about horsepower and started focusing on what actually makes cars special? What if manufacturers competed on driver engagement instead of dyno sheets? What if we celebrated cars that made 400 horsepower but delivered an unforgettable experience over those that made 700 but left you feeling disconnected?
The best cars aren’t necessarily the fastest ones. They’re the ones that make you take the long way home, that put a stupid grin on your face every time you fire them up, that create memories instead of lap records. A Mazda Miata will teach you more about driving than any 700-horsepower supercar ever will, and it’ll do it while being reliable, affordable, and actually usable.