Mazda CX-5

Published · Researched 2026-09-21

Mazda CX-5 review

The CX-5 is the crossover for people who read car reviews instead of just buying the RAV4 their neighbor has. And in 2026, Mazda rewarded that loyalty by redesigning the car around a giant touchscreen its most devoted owners openly despise. This is going to be fun.

Let's start with what's settled: the second-generation CX-5 (2017–2025) is one of the great mainstream crossovers. The interior punches two classes above its price. It drives like Mazda remembers what steering is for. It's quiet — one former owner who defected to a Toyota Venza Hybrid came back to test the new one and admitted the CX-5 is "smoother and quieter than my more expensive Venza." Owners in the 173,000-member Facebook group don't just like their cars, they name them, photograph them at car shows, and change their own oil in the driveway for $38 while thanking Mazda for making it easy. The CarGurus all-years owner rating is 4.76 out of 5. That's not satisfaction, that's affection.

The powertrain story is simple: a 2.5L four, naturally aspirated (187 hp) or turbo (227 hp on regular, 250 on premium), with a six-speed automatic that Mazda has been refining since approximately the Bronze Age. The NA engine is essentially bulletproof. The turbo has one black mark that matters: the 2021 models got a batch of defective exhaust valve stem seals that drink oil. Mazda settled a class action over it — seals get replaced, powertrain warranty extends to 7 years/84,000 miles. If you're shopping a 2021 turbo, the seller needs to prove the fix was done. Otherwise, walk.

Now the 2026. New platform, wheelbase stretched 4.5 inches, rear seat finally fits adults, cargo grows by four cubic feet. Good. But: the turbo is dead (it lives on in the CX-50), the hybrid doesn't arrive until 2027, and every 2026 ships with the same 187-hp four returning 26 mpg combined. Toyota just made the RAV4 hybrid-only at 38+ mpg. That's a 17-mpg gap between the volume sellers in this segment — the widest in the class. Road Ethos did the math and found the five-year cost difference is only $352, which is technically true and completely beside the point, because nobody cross-shops a 26-mpg crossover against a 43-mpg one and says "but the five-year TCO."

And then there's the screen. The 2026 replaces nearly every physical control with a 12.9-inch touchscreen (15.6 optional), Google-built-in. The press mostly adapted — Autoblog gave the car 9.3/10 and called it the best CX-5 yet. The owners revolted. "I've been a Mazda fan for years. Bought three so far... I won't get a new car this year after seeing this ridiculous screen. I might look for a 2025." That's the whole drama in one quote: Mazda built a better car and aimed it at people who aren't its customers. J.D. Power scores didn't dip and KBB only slipped from 4.4 to 4.2, so the broader market may not care. But the faithful care, loudly.

What's actually wrong beyond the philosophy seminar: fuel economy is the real, numerical problem — 26 combined in 2026 is a tough sell. The six-speed, beloved as it is, is ancient next to modern 8-speeds. The turbo wanted premium for full output. The 2025's FM radio has reception complaints. And the old car's rear seat and cargo were cramped (fixed now, but relevant if you buy used).

The social pulse: this is the most emotionally invested mainstream owner base in the cluster. People don't just own CX-5s, they identify with them — the anti-appliance choice. That identity is exactly what's under stress right now, because the 2026 asks them to accept a touchscreen-everything cabin and a weaker powertrain lineup in exchange for space they asked for. The forums and groups are where the negotiation is happening in real time.

Value call: buy the 2024. It's the finished 2nd gen — physical buttons, available turbo, every issue documented and fixable — at around $26,900 average on the used market. The 2025 is the same car for ~$1,200 more if the final-year badge matters to you. Skip the 2021 turbo unless the valve-seal paperwork is in hand. And skip the 2026 for now: first-year electronics, no hybrid, no turbo, and a dashboard the faithful are still grieving — a discounted 2024 gives you 95% of the car with 100% of the buttons. Against the RAV4 Hybrid and CR-V Hybrid, the CX-5's case was always "it's nicer to drive and nicer to sit in." That case still holds for the used 2nd gen. For the 2026, the MPG gap makes it a much harder argument — wait for the 2027 hybrid before paying new-car money.

The honest tradeoff: it's the best-driving, best-feeling crossover in its class, built by a company that just asked its biggest fans to love a touchscreen. Buy the one with the buttons.