8 February 2026

The Jeep Gladiator is possibly the world's most pointless ute - but with one big selling point

8 February 2026 | By James Coleman

The Rubicon is now the only version of the Jeep Gladiator you can buy in Australia. Photo: James Coleman.

Has Jeep just created the most perfectly useless vehicle? This was my initial thought on seeing the Gladiator.

At 5.5 metres long and with enormous knobbly tyres, it will be as ungainly around town as a teenager is at dancing.

Off-road? Nope. Look at the distance between the wheels. It’s more than 200 mm longer between the axles than a Ford Ranger. So it’s sure to get beached when mounting anything larger than a river pebble.

Under the bonnet is a 3.6-litre V6 petrol, so towing anything would send you broke by the end of the street. And you won’t be towing as much as the other big utes either, with a braked capacity of 2.7 tonnes (3.5 tonnes is the norm).

It is very cool, though. You can live out all your safari fantasies by undoing a few clips and bolts and removing the roof, doors and windscreen (Jeep even provides a full toolkit for this in the centre console). But even with a tray on the back, you must still leave all this weather-proofing behind in the garage because it won’t fit.

This was all going through my head on day one. But it turns out a week can change a man. Mostly.

Photos: James Coleman.

What is it?

The Gladiator is nothing particularly new. It was first released in the US in 2018, and then arrived in Australia and New Zealand as its first export market in 2020.

This year it scored a mild facelift and reduction to just one model – this one, the Rubicon, priced from $82,990 and fitted with some extra kit like underbody protection and bright-red tow hooks. Not sure that’s something you’d want to highlight, though.

It also comes standard with what was once an option – the ‘Lifestyle Adventure Group’. This adds a higher-output alternator and lockable under-seat storage, but most importantly, a removable Bluetooth speaker in its own charging dock behind the rear seats so you can blast ‘YMCA’ at the campsite (for ungainly dancing teenagers, presumably).

Everything else remains largely the same – the V6 engine, the automatic gearbox, the exposed door hinges and bonnet latches like you’ve come straight from a jaunt across the Western Front, and those unmistakably Jeep looks that every other 4WD dreams about at night.

What’s it like to live with?

I get it: the Gladiator is very cool. And driving it instantly made me a member of a special Jeep club, where all other Jeep drivers must either flash you (with their headlights, thank God) or give you an enormous thumbs-up.

Drop below about 20 km/h, and there’s also deep vibration through the body that is somehow equal parts unsettling and delicious. Like you’re at the helm of a tank.

There’s not as much space inside as the body has you believe. Photo: James Coleman.

But there are compromises.

On the highway, it feels like you’re in an aeroplane with an open window: the air whistling over the detachable roof, the mechanical whooshing from the V6, and the shudders through what is definitely a strong and sturdy chassis, but one also clad in a lot of creaky plastic. And we have to mention the floatiness. I kept waiting to land.

You can also tell it was originally a left-hand drive vehicle. The gearbox consumes the driver’s footwell to the degree that your left leg is about in line with the centre of the steering wheel. And the cable from the phone charging port hangs directly over the gear lever. And the handbrake is a stretch – it would be easier for the passenger to engage.

For a car that’s almost rudely large, there’s not a lot of space inside either.

Photos: James Coleman.

But arguably, this is all fair.

The Jeep is built for off-road. So, to find out if that long wheelbase would get in the way, I tackled some rugged mounds just off the Cotter Road. And, yes, I can confirm it caught slightly over one.

But I was more blown away by the way everything else worked together: those massive wheels and ample space in the arches, the front and rear diff locks, and high and low-range 4WD. All rather mechanical – you need a firm grip on the lever, for instance, to change into low-range.

It was also my first time in a 4WD with a sway bar. Usually, this metal pole connects the front wheels and helps to keep them flat on the road, but disconnect it off-road and the Gladiator can climb practically anything.

The verdict?

The Jeep is a toy. And that’s fine. Toys are good. Fun.

But Jeep Australia is in a bad way. It pulled the Grand Cherokee from the showrooms last year. And even after the prices were slashed for the Avenger EV to make it one of the cheapest electric SUVs on the market right now (available from $40,000), I can still count on one finger how many times I’ve seen one on the road.

Imagine how cool a base model would be. Photo: James Coleman.

So, here’s my suggestion. Strip back the Wrangler and Gladiator to bare bones. Cloth seats. Canvas roof. Manual windows. And sell it for no more than $40,000. Make it a viable workhorse again. Maybe even pitch it to the Army.

Then keep the Rubicon version for people who want the toy. Now, truly, with those hard-working roots Jeep so loves to bang on about. Everybody wins.