The 2025 BMW M3 with a manual transmission is an outlier in our electrified automotive era. As BMW’s performance M division marches reluctantly toward hybrid and battery-electric (BEV) propulsion, and as dual-clutch and ZF automatic transmissions dominate high-performance vehicles, the idea of a six-speed manual gearbox bolted to a twin-turbo inline-six feels anachronistic.
Nevertheless, there’s also an authenticity and connection that even the most modern automatics can’t replicate.
To understand the appeal of this car, you have to forget about numbers. Yes, its engine produces 473 horsepower and 406 lb-ft of torque, but the (RWD-only) manual M3 lacks the relentless launch capability of AWD and the super quick shifts of the ZF eight-speed, so it’s slower than automatic transmission M3s.
BMW hasn’t tried to make things easy with their manual M3, by the way. The clutch is heavy and bites high, and the shift action includes a mechanical notchiness that demands concentration. Automatic rev matching, which I enjoy, can be turned off, though it’s more precise than I could ever be, so I left it on.
As noted above, the M3 manual is not as fast as its automatic sibling. The 0–60 mph sprint is in the mid-four-second range, about half a second slower than the Competition xDrive. But again, that misses the point. The manual M3 demands engagement. It makes you think about corners, commit to gears, and plan braking points. There’s a rhythm to it that’s increasingly rare in modern cars, especially those with north of 450 horsepower. You don’t drive this M3 because it’s easier, but rather because it’s harder—and that difficulty becomes part of the reward.
The steering is precise but a little filtered—BMW’s electromechanical setup doesn’t quite have the clarity of older hydraulic racks—but there’s real feedback. And despite a base curb weight of around 3,500 lbs, the M3’s balance is superb when you push it.
For the record, the last gen manual M3, which I owned, was pretty good, but this one is significantly better. The engine sound has been improved, and the steering and shifter are more satisfying to use.
Design-wise, the oversized front grille remains divisive, but the shape is aging into itself—its assertiveness now feels normal, not shocking—and the more understated rear end helps tamp down the boy racer vibe.
Inside, the new M3’s cabin remains a blend of focused aggression and luxury aspiration. The M-carbon bucket seats are still available and still punishing over long trips, but the standard sport seats strike a good balance between support and livability. Pick them.
Interior materials are excellent, with real carbon fiber, brushed metal, and Alcantara where it matters. The manual shifter, adorned with the classic BMW M shift pattern, doesn’t really belong in a cockpit dominated by touchscreens, configurable lighting, and complicated software menus, but I’m glad it’s there.
The standard iDrive 8.5 user interface runs on a large, curved screen that stretches from left of the steering wheel to just past the center console. The graphics are crisp with quick responses, but the interface remains too layered. Simple things like changing drive modes or adjusting climate settings still require too many taps or swipes. And while BMW has thankfully retained some hard buttons on the console, I wish they’d add more.
BMW has wisely resisted the urge to turn this car into a special edition or charge a collector’s premium for the manual (like Porsche does). It remains a no-cost option on the base rear-wheel-drive M3, the last bastion of a truly analog experience in the M3 lineup. And while this generation might be the M3’s final outing with a clutch pedal, BMW hasn’t stripped the experience bare. You still get the full suite of driver aids and connectivity, but you can also switch everything off and drive like it’s 1997 again.
There are flaws. The aforementioned grille will never win beauty contests. The manual’s slower acceleration and thirstier nature (EPA ratings are 16 city/23 highway mpg) are obvious drawbacks in the numbers race. And the price—just under $78,000 before options—can easily climb into the mid-90s if you start ticking boxes on the configurator. At that point, a Porsche Cayman GTS or even a lightly optioned 911 comes into view. But they don’t offer four doors, real rear seats, or this blend of everyday usability and track-day credibility.
In 2025, the M3 manual is a flawed anachronism. It’s less efficient, less digital, and less in tune with the automotive world around it than many other performance cars. But that’s exactly why it matters.
This is a car that reminds us what we’re in danger of losing. BMW M still knows how to build soul into metal. The six-speed M3 may not be the future, but it remains a damn good reason to love driving now. Get it while you can.
Stephen Schutz has covered the automotive world for more than 30 years as a syndicated writer and podcast host. Read his column monthly in The Cricket.
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