There’s a school of thought in Japanese business called Kaizen, which loosely translates to continuous improvement. Specifically, it refers to the pursuit of incremental improvement over time, done carefully so as to ensure long-term benefit for everyone, in every regard. There’s also a school of thought in the western world that came from a wise old farmer named Bert, who was a trusted advisor to former President and all-around solid dude Jimmy Carter: If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. The 2024 Toyota 4Runner embodies both of those ideas.

Toyota has developed a bit of a reputation lately for letting their vehicles get a little too long-in-the-tooth before updating them. They’ve been on an absolute bender over the last year or so to shed that image, revamping their portfolio with the kinds of compelling cars we may or may not have started to forget they were capable of building. The mid-size Tacoma and 4Runner twins have been in production for so long now that they’re old enough to vote for a sham politician — doesn’t matter which side you’re on — and then buy booze to drink their sorrows away.

While the Tacoma benefits from new bones this year, the 4Runner soldiers on for one more year with the same dusty old skeleton since 2004; this is the last neo-classic Toyota truck in North America. They’ve applied their continuous improvement ethos — and it has improved over the eras — but it still rocks a naturally aspirated V6 when everyone else has gone to turbo, it still has a five-speed automatic, and it still has what we now call old-timey turn signals; they don’t do the one-touch three-blink thing.

Some might knock the 4Runner for being dated — make no mistake, it is — but not hopelessly so. I’ve even seen internet armchair warriors chastise Toyota for having the gall to sell an uncompetitive, behind-the-curve product, priced as though it’s a boutique item whose tooling hasn’t been paid off for years. But they’re missing the point. The point of Kaizen is to consider the improvements you choose to make, and not just change things for the sake of saying you did. That doesn’t benefit anybody beyond making marketing’s life easier. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about this, honestly. I tend to like older platform vehicles; three of my most favourite cars last year were the Lexus IS 500, the limited-run Chrysler 300C, and a Mazda MX-5 Miata that I ended up buying for myself — all of which are at least old enough to develop self-awareness. On the other hand, I’ve had the privilege of driving both the badass Tacoma Trailhunter and the relatively basic TRD Sport, as well as the new Land Cruiser — which all share the same new architecture and powertrains that will be coming to the 4Runner next year. They’re good, and I’ve applauded Toyota for bringing them into the 21st century without totally abandoning the charm that made them what they are.

But as I learned with this last bastion of fossilized 4Runner, just because they didn’t totally abandon their old charm doesn’t mean they didn’t leave some of it behind in the name of progress. The new trucks are smarter on paper, but less of that translates to reality than you might think. For example, despite having an ancient slushbox with a scant few cogs and heaving boat anchor of an engine, I averaged 12.5 L/100 kilometres in my time with the 4Runner — and that’s with the TRD Pro’s roof rack and chunky tires holding it back on the highway.

That’s roughly the same as the new-gen trucks I’ve sampled, which benefit from turbocharged lungs and electric augmentation. The hybrid variants are great (read: fast) but cost a pretty penny, and forgoing that leaves the Taco feeling a little gutless while it struggles to gather its breath through its force-fed respirator. This 4Runner’s V6 is simple, smooth, has a linear throttle response, has decent torque all the time, and a particularly brawny exhaust note with this TRD Pro pack. Similarly, the old five-speed never has to think hard about which gear suits a situation, and it always feels right.

It may be a lesser engine on paper, but not in practice, leaving me to wonder where all the progress went. Similarly, Toyota’s old infotainment isn’t as crisp or snappy as the new stuff, but it works, and with physical shortcut buttons and a tuning knob, it’s easier to use once you get over the low-res display. On the exact opposite side of the spectrum, the gauge cluster is a bit of a revelation; it features gauges, which by having the benefit of existing, are far more pleasing to my eye than any digital display. Plus, the little screen Toyota does include is easier to use and reads better than what they’re doing now, in my cantankerous opinion.

So while the old truck may not be smarter, it’s simpler, which in turn makes you feel smarter, and that’s what matters. This isn’t to say this outgoing 4Runner is a luddite; it features a comprehensive suite of driver aids, like blind-spot monitoring and lane-departure assist. It’ll even drive itself with lane tracing and adaptive cruise control, which work well — until you get below 50 km/h, at which point they give up. The new kids can be totally hands-free at that low speed; score one for the youngins.

The youngins are about tied with old fogey in terms of driving feel, which is honestly a credit to the engineering team at Toyota. The new vehicles steer, ride, and handle about the same as this old girl, with maybe marginally better isolation. A big chunk of the 4Runner’s charm that is that it’s an honest-to-God truck on a real truck frame, and it feels like it. It feels tough, like it can handle any and all of whatever misadventures you throw at yourself. It just feels right, and it makes you feel more right behind the wheel.

Toyota may have made a mistake offering this old platform side by side with the new stuff. Don’t get me wrong, the new stuff is great — the Land Cruiser is handily one of my favorite new vehicles on the market — but the 4Runner has a wisdom about it that makes me question the march of progress. I really enjoyed it. I like the powertrain, I like how easy it was to live with, I like how efficient it was, I like that in a whole week it frustrated me exactly zero times, and I love cruising with the huge sunroof open and the sliding rear glass tucked away. It may be 20 years old, but it’s still relevant today, and will still be relevant in another 20.

That’s what the 2024 Toyota 4Runner is all about; I’d say farewell, but I know these aren’t going anywhere.