Porsche 911 S/T 2025 Review

It seems oddly fitting to arrive at Porsche Centre Melbourne to collect the 911 S/T in what’s supposed to be the German marque’s future. The Macan Turbo has more power and reaches 100km/h in just 3.3 seconds, yet it’s a 2405kg SUV with no combustion engine. It dwarfs the graceful, wingless 992 generation S/T. The stark juxtaposition isn’t lost on me.

The laissez-faire nature of gaining the keys to a somewhat unicorn car in Australia worth $660,500 (before on-road costs) feels uneasy. Walking up to the S/T, it’s hard to miss. Yes, the classic 911 silhouette remains, but the two-door sports car is now bigger than ever, with wider hips and staggered 20/21-inch wheels. But there’s no racing-style GT3 rear wing.

The somewhat garish decals are polarising and do seem at odds with the classic 911 form. Painted in the hero hue of Shore Blue Metallic ($7500), this S/T also runs the Heritage Design Package 60 Years 911 ($36,760) with the added ‘bonus’ of the motorsport-inspired graphics – hence the start number of 63 on the doors.

I slide into the deep bucket seat and begin to take in the retro-inspired, yet utterly contemporary cabin, one with a clear driving focus. The seats hug you firmly in all the right places and the steering wheel is free from buttons; a sign there are no complicated modes to decipher like the GT3 RS. In terms of spec, this S/T is pretty punchy, pairing the eye-catching exterior colour with an interior cloaked in Classic Cognac semi-aniline leather. The fabric sections are also a glorious throwback to its history.  

I turn the ‘key’ (yes, no push-button start here) and the angry, naturally aspirated 4.0-litre flat six erupts into life. With less sound deadening and the traditional, yet unconventional rear-engine 911 layout, you hear everything right behind your ears. At idle, the somewhat gravelly acoustics are a world away from the euphoric 9000rpm cutout that’s to come. The clutch is heavy and the gear whine at slow speeds is profound. It’s already an event.  

Leaving the dealership all I can tell myself is “don’t stall it – just don’t stall it”.

Within the first few metres it’s apparent this isn’t purely a sticker job. The 911 S/T, in a roundabout way given its engine, is a GT3 RS with a manual gearbox. Although, the description goes a long way to explaining why it isn’t initially the friendliest companion at slow speeds, especially in Monday morning traffic with highly strung caffeinated drivers and tram tracks to contend with.

A city isn’t the ideal first meeting for such a car. Escaping the confines of the CBD is vital to build rapport. And with dry roads and clear skies, it’d be remiss of me not to break the ice with a decent drive. Catching glances from onlookers, the S/T doesn’t exactly slink along the freeway anonymously. Shrinking violets need not apply.

I keep wanting to snatch a higher gear as at the national speed limit, the reduced final drive ratio has the flat six skipping along at 3000rpm. This sounds high until you realise the motorsport-derived engine is only using a third of its rev range. The ride quality, too, is impressive for such a focused sports car. No, it isn’t a magic carpet, but the S/T dispatches pockmarked surfaces surprisingly well.

When the road becomes twisty in Victoria’s Yarra Valley, the 911 comes alive. The steering is very direct and quick, only adding to the feeling of immediacy the powertrain is offering. For an electronically assisted setup, the feedback is at a higher level than most. Coupled with the double wishbone front suspension and grippy Pirelli rubber, the forward axle locks into an apex like the GT3 Cup car.

Yet, what’s more apparent is while the S/T can rise to the occasion for spirited driving, it’s almost just as enjoyable to bring the tempo down a few tenths. The three pedals and six-speed gearbox have a lot to do with that. It’s overtly mechanical, too, with that weighty clutch and tight-knit manual gate. Even the gear lever itself has been shortened by a centimetre for a more direct feel.

The 4.0-litre six is always a part of the theatre. It is one of the true wonders of the motorised world and punches far harder than some pundits give it credit. Despite lacking forced induction and with the spec sheet stating less than 500Nm, there’s abundant pulling power, meaning you don’t have to row through the gears constantly. However, you’ll want to as the benefits come via sound and haste, not to mention the fact its 386kW is produced at a lofty 8500rpm.

It’s only a quick first bite, but a tasty entree, nonetheless. Driving back to the rat race of Melbourne, everything now feels right. The setting sun is giving golden-hour vibes and ties in with the Cognac-lined cabin. After a nervous start, guards are coming down.

So, what makes the S/T special?

While launched in 1964, the 901 concept was first shown in public a year earlier at the International Motor Show (IAA) in Frankfurt. French manufacturer Peugeot, famous for using a zero in its nomenclature, took umbrage with the naming convention – therefore it morphed into the 911. The S/T is Porsche paying homage to 60 years of its iconic sports car and why just 1963 units will ever be produced for the global market. This history is for the most part, tastefully marked inside and out.

I’m lucky enough to be in possession of build number 160, a designation highlighted within the badge above the glovebox. The S/T part of the equation relates to the race-bred 911 S of 1969. However, it was known internally at Porsche as the 911 ST (Sport Touring). So, as a present-day project by the gurus at Weissach, the modern interpretation is ‘the’ 992 911 the engineers wanted to build.

It’s all about connection and lightness. The key to those being the GT-specific six-speed manual with shorter gearing and a final drive that’s been reduced by eight per cent. Through myriad changes, this is the lightest 992 generation 911 at just 1380kg – a figure that is at odds with other porky sports cars riddled with batteries and e-motors.

The fight against the bulge continues with the decision not to run rear-axle steering, while carbon-fibre-reinforced plastic (CFRP) is used for the bonnet, roof, front wings and doors as well as the rear anti-roll bar and shear panel. There’s lightweight glass, gorgeous 20/21-inch centre-lock magnesium wheels, a lithium-ion starter battery and the S/T specific clutch sheds 10kg in conjunction with the single-mass flywheel.

So, while the wingless exterior profile might suggest its DNA is more tailored towards lifestyle, the finer details remind you the persona is all about performance.

Doing mundane things in the S/T is still an event. Yet, it isn’t so obscure that daily driving is a chore once you get used to it. Forward outward vision is more than acceptable and those seats might appear hard-core, but there’s genuine padding. Although, they’re a right pain to get in and out of and are a constant reminder of the gym membership I’m paying for but no longer using.

Without the optional roll cage, the cabin is a little less like a leather-clad race car. Although, there are no rear seats, just a carpeted space that doubles as a storage area to complement the ‘frunk’. Don’t go putting soft cheeses for a picnic lunch back there though, as it does get a little hot while driving. And despite only offering a paltry 132 litres of storage space, the front boot easily swallows my groceries. But it could comfortably handle more.

Not that I’m game enough to consume food or liquids inside the S/T – my bank account certainly couldn’t cover the repair of any mishaps – but the manual gear lever makes the conspicuous central cupholder even more redundant. Any drink placed in it fouls your hand when going for a gear change.

Seemingly, the more you pay, the less you get. It’s a fact I’m constantly reminded of given there’s no radar-based active cruise control. Changing lanes is anxiety inducing with no blind-spot monitoring and relatively poor rear three-quarter visibility, even sans GT3-style wing.

You also must be prepared to hear everything. And I mean everything. Encountering road works makes my heart skip a beat as myriad stones can be heard within the wheel arches and the highway tyre roar makes conversations with my passengers a chore.

Speaking of audibility, even though there’s an optional $2970 Bose surround sound system to crank, its scarcely being used. For testing’s sake, I can report it does indeed produce high-end acoustics. But everything fades into background noise when there’s a 3996cc flat-six orchestra with its various tones and euphoric crescendo.

Although not everyone is whelmed by my presence within the urban jungle. A man, illegally jaywalking through traffic, clearly isn’t having a great day. Looking at the me in the S/T and with a rather disgruntled look on his face he bleats out something along the lines of “rich” and “see you next Tuesday”. As the traffic moves on, I didn’t have time to yell back that it isn’t mine and that I’m simply a struggling freelancer.

What a nice chap…

Unlike the past few days, the weather is far more brooding with the skies looking an angrier version of the Shore Blue hue. However, the moisture mercifully stays away. Which is a good thing as today is all about driving – and more photography. Scampering out of the city can’t happen soon enough.

The Victorian high country is a step too far, but the Yarra Valley remains a strong second option. Especially given that, being pre snow season, Lake Mountain is still open. Which is music to the ears of snapper Rene, who greets the news as eagerly as the S/T’s revs fall with the lightweight flywheel.

With past experiences of the epic GT2 RS and full-fat Turbo S in my mind as comparison, the S/T isn’t really in the same conversation in terms of straight-line prowess. It simply can’t shove you into the back of the bucket seat quite like its turbocharged siblings. Yet it doesn’t hang about, either. It’s fast, but also exceptionally useable with its power delivery.

Impressively, the atmospheric boxer can dispatch the zero to 100km/h marker in just 3.7 seconds before heading on to a top speed of 300km/h. I’m not testing either of those figures, clearly. Yet, knowing what it is capable of adds to the appreciation of its mechanical makeup.

As the kilometres on the odometer continue to build, the notion the S/T is more about how you interact with it along the way rather than how fast you can arrive at your destination keeps bubbling to the surface. I have to be a part of the process and not just taken for a ride.

Nearing the top of Lake Mountain a particularly bumpy section of road highlights the 911’s competence. Despite wide tyres (255/35 ZR20 front, 315/30 ZR21 rear), the S/T doesn’t follow cambers in the road as much as you’d expect and it hunts an apex incisively. It’s a struggle to notice the lack of rear steering, too. It’s the way in which it can find purchase and relay all its 386kW to the tarmac that’s impressive.

Yes, 315-section Pirellis help. But the suspension (the aforementioned double wishbones are joined by multi-links at the rear) and sophisticated S/T-specific adaptive damping are the highlight. The rear axle remains planted and resists the urge to buck me off my line, or porpoise. There’s absorbency and control in equal measures.

Together with the wonderfully calibrated stability systems (PSM), torque vectoring (PTV) and almost boundless grip, the rear-drive layout is rarely overawed. Point-to-point pace is immense, and I find a rhythm with it quickly. 

Some might call it cheating, but the well-tuned rev-matching system works a treat. And it’s surprising how willing it is to assist early down changes, with hard blips of the throttle being as fun as the theatrics from a PDK – although the latter is slightly less involving. The steering, too, returns tangible feedback with decent weighting and a quick rack rising to the immediacy of the throttle response. It’s hard to escape the fact the S/T is made for drivers.

There’s a sense of robust repeatability, too, as the standard-fit carbon-ceramic brakes (PCCB) return positive pedal feel and are relentless at arresting pace. They also make sense for a sports car tailored to the open road over a racetrack given the monetary cost involved with replacement. As it stands, I’m very much enjoying the S/T in the environment it was intended.

As the sun falls behind the mountains and the last rays of light fade, Rene calls it a day. Finding fault with the S/T is hard and it doesn’t have to brag about its talents, which makes the kitsch puddle lighting exceedingly gaudy. Porsche doesn’t have to project the slogan “Icons of Cool”. It just is.

Winding back down through the hills, the LED Porsche Dynamic Light system illuminates the blacktop ahead. Spirited driving is well and truly put on the backburner as hitting a startled kangaroo now wouldn’t end well for it, or me. With the dual-zone climate control set just so, the 10.9-inch infotainment screen wirelessly projecting my smartphone’s maps and the digital instrument cluster’s brightness dimmed, its strikes me how untaxing the experience is.  

As I approach my driveway, the nose-lift system engages without command as it has now learnt my home location. It’s late, and the yellow glow of night lights from the surrounding apartments illuminates the gold nomenclature on the dash. The beeping parking sensors are the last signs of white noise before the boxer shuts down. Deep breaths. Then silence.

As the garage door slams shut ahead of the 911’s bug-splattered façade, it’s hard not to walk away into the darkness with a smile shining bright. In a world shifting blindly into a daze of ludicrously fast EVs without soul, the sobering realisation mechanical experiences such as this are merely seeing a stay of execution hits hard.

Hype is one thing. Exceeding it is another. And the Porsche 911 S/T is a hero any keen driver should meet if they’re lucky enough to get the chance.   

And just like that, it’s time to say goodbye. While there isn’t enough time or 98-octane fuel left in the 64-litre tank to extract one last Andrea Bocelli-style high note, the S/T still has room to teach me a final lesson.

Using Albert Park as a backdrop, I stop for a few last snaps. Taking off past onlookers, a lapse in concentration has me releasing the clutch too quickly. The engine stalls and the embarrassment instantly sinks in. It’s as if the 911 S/T is mocking me and reminding me who’s boss. Ultimately, if you don’t drive it correctly, it’ll bite back. And the fact it doesn’t pamper you makes getting everything right more rewarding.

Is it worth it? The chorus of naysayers bleating you can “just get a manual GT3 for less money” have been more vocal than the 9000rpm redline. However, the S/T sits in a market-generated realm of unobtanium, one where its price almost galvanises its existence within performance car royalty as much as its dynamic talent.

I’m not quite sure those behind the 901 could have possibly foreseen the heights of success the 911 has enjoyed. Yet, in paying homage to its 1963 genesis, Andreas Preuninger and the GT department created a fitting tribute with a personal passion project. Apart from the super niche, ultra exclusive and eye-wateringly expensive hypercars, it’s hard to comprehend gaining greater driving enjoyment from just about any other road-going vehicle.

As for me, well… in the back of a Toyota Camry Hybrid Uber that also feels as though it’s been in service for 60 years, it’s difficult not to be enamoured by and in awe of the manual Porsche 911 S/T. It’s a special experience, one dripping with interaction. If you’re lucky enough to own one, please don’t mothball it. Get out and drive the damn thing.

Porsche 911 S/T at a glance:
Price: $660,500 before on-road costs
Available: No longer on sale
Engine: 4.0-litre flat six-cylinder petrol 
Output: 386kW/465Nm
Transmission: Six-speed manual
Fuel: 13.8L/100km (WLTP Combined)
CO2: 313g/km (WLTP Combined)
Safety rating: Not tested

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