While Ferraristas cannot fathom the necessity of such emissions-motivated hybridization, it’s an obvious matter of public roads and public interest. The 296 GTS and 296 GTB (for “Berlinetta”) are Maranello’s series-production mid-engine coupe/convertible offerings, sold by the thousands around the world. Their local emissions are most definitely being counted and taxed accordingly. The GTS’s few miles of electric range will allow it to operate in the growing number of city centers with low and no-emission zones.

For now I think high-net-worth exhibitionists should be grateful that such cars are still street legal. If this is what compromise feels like, I’m down with it.

The 296 series does have a reputation for fussiness, owing to its Formula One-inspired human interface. If it pleases the court, the defense would like to enter into evidence our car’s leather-stitched, carbon-constructed steering wheel, crowded with paddle shifters; rubbery pressure switches (turn indicators); compass/click-to-select capacitive switches; touchable switchpads for the headlamps and wipers; a small mechanical selector for cruise control; little wheelie deals to adjust cruise control and headlamps; the start/stop button; and two, very different Manettino controls for propulsion and dynamics.

Credit the V6’s exotic equal-length exhaust manifolds, tuned to elicit the combustion cycle’s most sonorous/erotic orders of resonance. According to Ferrari, the keening of the hybrid V6 at redline earned it the nickname “Piccolo V12” from development engineers. Credit, too, the sky-high redline, with fuel cutoff stammering between shifts at 8,500 rpm. 

Thus unfettered and unmuted, the 296 GTS will absolutely yank a knot in your ass. The official 0-62 acceleration of 2.9 seconds is mere throat-clearing. Four-point-seven seconds later, the car can be passing through 124 mph amid a storm of bees. Somewhere around 100 mph, you might be able to feel the onset of some negative lift, as the car’s active aero systems extract a touch of stabilizing downforce from the wind.

At the pace I was going, the car’s semi-active suspension would have been working hard to keep a grip on the scruffy desert roads; it didn’t seem so. 

At lower speeds, in the twisties, the car’s grip is all mechanical, and it’s beautiful. Corner to corner, the e-assisted steering response is feather light, pointable and flickable, with steering ramping quickly and off-center, making it easy to stay ahead of a drifting tail. There is no flex, anywhere. Given its weight distribution (41/59, front/ rear) and power, the 296 GTS might have tended to be tail-happy under braking and pendulous on the throttle. It isn’t, thanks to some super-fancy g-meters, semi-active suspension, torque vectoring/limited-slip rear differential and by-wire control, all discreetly suppressing over-rotations.

After a few hours, I knew I had to get off the road or there would be consequences. Alas, there is no in-the-line-of-duty exception in my job.

Is there?