Very much like the Chevy Traverse and GMC Acadia, the 2025 Buick Enclave has been the recipient of a substantial overhaul, but unlike those two, I’m not sure I’d call this one a glow-up in every regard. In a segment where everybody’s bringing their best, and the Enclave’s own siblings are hitting hard, it’s not good enough to be good enough.
The biggest problem here is that I really liked the last Enclave—and Traverse, for that matter. Its chassis was terrific, it had plenty of room, it was very comfortable, the powertrain was perfectly suited to its purpose, and the more sweeping exterior and tapered silhouette of the outgoing Enclave better suited Buick’s design language. Even putting aside my fondness of the old car, I struggle to come up with more praise for the new car other than, “it’s fine.”
Like its aforementioned corporate siblings, the Enclave rides on a new, much larger platform. It’s now about the same size as a GMC Yukon, albeit on a car-like unibody rather than a body-on-frame platform like the Yukon. Alongside obviously being more spacious, the new Enclave is meant to be even quieter and more refined. This brings it more in-line with its new three-row competition, namely in the very grand Toyota Grand Highlander.
I called the Grand Highlander a “fake Range Rover,” which might sound harsh out of context, but it was a genuine compliment. We got a similar vibe from the Acadia Denali, which was coincidentally parked next to an actual Range Rover for most of the week we had it. The Acadia’s materials, fit-and-finish, and overall design compliments the new platform very well, whereas this Buick feels a little lost.
It’s not a bad-looking thing by any means. Buick’s new corporate front fascia looks good, the rear end treatment looks properly upscale, but I—and maybe I’m being fussy here—can’t help but think the rear end being so upright looks somewhat out of place here, at odds with Buick’s generally swooping lines. I also don’t care much for this mid-level Sport Touring trim package. Drop the sporty act—it’s a four-cylinder, three-row family hauler. Buicks look best in Avenir guise.
On that note, the V6 we were so fond of is gone, replaced with a new compliance-mandated 2.5-litre turbocharged four-cylinder engine. It’s based on the same compliance-mandated unit found in some of GM’s trucks and Cadillac’s cars. It makes a very healthy 328 horsepower and 326 pound-feet of torque—and just like in the trucks, I don’t like it. turbocharged four cylinder, based on the same compliance-mandated unit as found in GM’s trucks (and some of Cadillac’s cars). It displaces 2.5 litres here, makes a very healthy 328 horsepower and 326 foot-pounds of torque, and, just like in the trucks, I don’t like it at all.
To be clear, by no means is it a bad engine. It makes good power, it hasn’t been a problem child in the vehicles it’s already been deployed in, and unlike the overwhelming majority of this new breed of small-displacement, high-boost that are supposed to be friendlier with fuel, this one actually holds up its end of the deal. It averaged 10.3 L/100 km combined in the real world, beating its posted ratings with more power on tap, and tasked with a lot more vehicle to move. Credit where it’s due: the engine team delivered a rare, real-world improvement, with no compromise. On paper.
This sounds like such a silly thing to complain about, but acoustics and feel really matter to people’s overall perception of a car, even beyond engines—the very satisfying thunk of a closing door on some vehicles is no accident, and hasn’t been for a long time. This engine falls well short on acoustics, sounding almost exactly like the “sad sewing machine” my my mom would lament decades ago in her Ford Tempo. It’s smooth enough, and Buick has gone to significant lengths to hide its coarse character with active noise cancelling and hydraulic engine mounts. But it’s still there, it’s still a major turn-off, and perhaps this is a placebo effect, but the Acadia seems to do a better job at filtering out the coarseness.
But let’s say—hypothetically, of course—that you’re hard of hearing. If that’s the case, it’s fine. The new turbo-four isn’t as slick as the V6, needing a beat to gather its breath before delivering passing power, but it works well enough with the eight-speed automatic to hustle when needed. It’s the same transmission as before, with the same driver-selectable all-wheel-drive system. It works well enough, but the continued absence of an automatic or on-demand functionality is a glaring omission in a segment that has it figured out.
The Enclave ST handles itself fine. This particular trim has a “sport-tuned” suspension, though I’m pretty sure they only say this so that the marketing team can say they have a somewhat sporty offering, because the chassis lives and breathes on Novocaine. Very much like the powertrain, it is by no means a total miss, but the outgoing Enclave drove and rode beautifully. This new model trades the faint inkling of road feel its predecessor had for total numbness. To its credit, it’s still exceptionally quiet and rides very, very comfortably without feeling uncontrolled. GMs always drive well, but they used to feel like they drove well. This new Enclave drops that.
It also drops the tech-minimalist approach of the last Enclave, but I’d argue it does this very successfully. For the first time in a Buick, GM’s Super Cruise hands-free driving assist is optional on every Enclave trim level, and while I’m used to it by now, it’s still brilliant system and well-suited to this application. If you don’t spec Super Cruise, every Enclave nonetheless comes standard with adaptive cruise control, automatic emergency braking, pedestrian and cyclist alert, lane-departure warning, traffic sign recognition, and a 360-degree camera system. In other words, pretty much everything you could possibly want.
Said 360-degree camera system is very crisply displayed on an oddly small portion of an ultra-wide 30-inch display. It encompasses the gauge cluster and center screen, housed in an inverted, soft-edged trapezoidal display. I’ve said before that I’m over all-in-one wide displays like this, but Buick’s design team has done a really nice job making this look and feel like it belongs. I don’t love the bluish-purple theme they’ve chosen, but it’s otherwise a lovely and crisp arrangement. Like the rest of GM’s infotainment these days, the Enclave uses a Google-based system that has a bit of a learning curve, but it’s intuitive enough once you master it. Unlike certain GM models, the Enclave still has wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, as well as a prominent wireless charging pad in the floating centre console to keep your phone topped up.
This tester was fitted with the Power Package, which among many other niceties adds a heads-up display, memory settings for the front seats, and power folding for the third-row seating accessible via buttons on the rear—so you can open the hatch, pop the seats down easily, and load a chesterfield. Even without the second or third row down, there’s plenty of room for your next Costco trip. Unfortunately, the power-folding third row requires the manually adjusted second row to be nearly all the way forward in order to fold down. It takes a lot of seamlessness away from this feature.
I don’t think Buick is going to capture anyone beyond their already high loyalty rate with the redesigned Enclave; the better-executed Acadia, especially in Denali flavour, will be making those conquests in this segment. Still, the 2025 Buick Enclave is a nice, comfortable, and efficient option in the three-row segment that looks good enough, drives well enough, and at $65,889 as-tested, is equipped well enough for most consumers’ wants and needs. Where it loses me is that, in a segment where everybody is bringing their A-game—including its own siblings—being good enough isn’t good enough.
