Bentley’s 2023 Continental GTC Speed: A Cheetah in a Lion Suit

To most driving enthusiasts, there is nothing as pleasurable as a warm day tooling round country roads in a ragtop. The smell of freshly mown lawns wafts in your nostrils; the sun’s rays bathe the atmosphere in warm tones. It doesn’t get much better.

Well, actually it does. Make the car a Bentley Continental GT. Glutton for more fun? Make that Bentley a convertible, or GTC Speed. Recently, Penta had the opportunity to wend our way around Sullivan County, New York, and put a GTC Speed through its paces.

The Drive

Given its weight, at roughly 4,800 pounds, it is no surprise that it offers a solid feel and holds the road without much effort. The GTC Speed feels a bit like a land yacht, but in a good sense. That is, when you climb aboard you know right away that you’re in for a treat and that the ride could take you anywhere. And like the U.S. Navy, the GTC Speed (standard MSRP US$317,000) projects power.

The car we drove was priced at US$379,00 because it was ladled with cushy options like a custom-made sound system, so that you can share your musical faves with your neighbours; 22-inch wheels for better grip and handling; and a high-gloss fibre finish, among many other accoutrements. A king’s ransom? Yes. However, the Bentley is often measured against the Ferrari Roma or the Mercedes Benz S65 AMG. That’s rarefied competitive air. The engineers in Crewe, England, pride themselves on making sure this GTC is capable of taking you on a long drive comfortably at 90 mph as well as on a quick run to the local grocery store. Think of a cheetah in a lion’s suit, and you get the picture.

It tops out at 208 mph, in case you need a latte really quickly. We took it to 161 mph in sport mode for a few moments and enjoyed a marvelous and mischievous thrill ride, and no smokies with radar guns. For obvious reasons, what interstate we managed this is a top business secret. [But don’t try this at home!] And if you love big engines, note that next year’s models will be the last with such W-12 muscle, part of a greener Bentley, as Penta has previously reported.

The Specs

The vast hood hides a 6.0-litre, twin-turbocharged W12 engine, a monster that delivers bold power as well more graceful manoeuvring than otherwise might be expected from such a heavy car. The horsepower is rated at 650 and the car obtains gas mileage of 15 city and 22 highway. Bentley says it will do 0 to 60 mph in 3.6 seconds. Other Bentley Continental GTs are available with a V8 engine, for those more concerned about the environment.

The Bentley GTC Speed offers four driving modes: Comfort mode is a likable combination of a speedy roadster that will take you to 100 mph, before you even notice. Call it relaxed cruising.

Move to Sport mode and the GTC does its unique version of a squat thrust, and off you go. Sport mode optimises the engine, transmission, and suspension to boost dynamic ability, and when engaged, it should be immediately felt by the driver. And the engine, normally quiescent, begins to roar through the two exhausts in the rear. The other modes are Bentley, a combo of sport and comfort, and Custom. The chassis system features rear-wheel steering, which improves cornering at speed.

The colour of the model we drove is called Kingfisher.
Vito Racanelli

From the front, back, or side it’s a handsome car, and certainly gets its share of acknowledging looks from pedestrians. The Bentley GTC driver quickly learns to recognize the envy of onlookers and other drivers. The color of the model we drove is called Kingfisher. We plebs would say it was a sweet shade of light blue. OK, Kingfisher, if you must. The GT hardtop is just US$259,000 before options but we recommend the GTC Speed convertible, unless you live way up North. The Bentley line up consists of a range of GT and GTC models that can be customized for engine size and hp; convertibles and hardtops; and colors, etc., among other accouterments.

The Cabin

In a few words, luxurious and spacious for the front two passengers, but little room for others in the back seat. It’s a GT 2+2, typical in that the back seats are negligible for humans. As we tested a convertible, we shoehorned a 6-footer into the back seat with the top down, but the advantage of being able to lick your knees was somehow lost on our uncomfortable passenger. Best to keep the backseats to dogs or children.

What’s Not to Like

Penta has noted in other expensive luxury sports competitors to Bentley: the invasion of plastic in the cabin. Yes, it lightens the car’s weight, improves performance, yadda, yadda, yadda. But even a little is a lot for cars at this price level. This Bentley does have plastic here and there in the cabin. Not a lot, but really, one might expect control knobs made of gold in this price range. And the gasoline tank dial could be bigger and better placed, but you get used to it. Maybe you don’t want to see, or care, for that matter.

At the end of a long summer’s day driving the GTC Speed, you feel as if you are in a fast and mobile Four Seasons Suite.

A wave of corporate warnings and technical disclosures has flooded the media, with headlines worrying over “swarms” of rogue artificial-intelligence agents launching “unprecedented” cyberattacks, outsmarting their makers, and inching toward a terrifying autonomy. The most revealing part of this narrative isn’t what the software did. It’s who is telling the story—and why. When corporate leaders publicly insist that the systems they financed, engineered and deployed are suddenly beyond their power to contain, skepticism isn’t only healthy; it is essential.

For years, Silicon Valley has drawn scrutiny from civil society and global regulators over tangible harms such as youth mental health deterioration and systematic privacy violations. Today, industry figures seem to be trying to change that public image. Loudly blowing the whistle on their own systems—just as two of the leading companies were preparing for massive initial public offerings—lets AI executives position themselves as a new generation of leaders who have come to terms with their societal responsibilities. They seem to want us to believe that they no longer want to “move fast and break things” but will instead stand as vigilant guardians between humanity and a technological apocalypse.

There is one glaring problem: Software doesn’t rebel. A mathematical model possesses neither intent, malice nor the will to defy its creators, let alone extinguish our species. AI is a human artifact, engineered for profit.

When an agentic model in an evaluation sandbox connects to an unauthorized server or executes an exploit, it hasn’t staged a coup. It has tried to meet the human-defined objectives set out before it through a path its designers failed to constrain. It’s the digital equivalent of the King Midas myth, in which the king’s ill-defined wish turns even his food and drink into gold.

That powerful experimental models were able to discover novel vulnerabilities and breach external systems isn’t a sign of a dangerous superintelligence but of human error or negligence. There is no sentient actor lurking in the weights to be reasoned with, feared or pacified. There are only human software engineers, product managers and corporate boards deciding which guardrails are worth the latency cost and which permissions can be skipped in the race to market.

Policymakers and voters need to resist AI exceptionalism. In any other discipline—from civil engineering to pharmaceuticals—courts and regulators treat a system failure as evidence of bad product design and inadequate safety testing. If an aircraft crashes, we focus on finding the engineering defect, correcting it, and enforcing established liability standards for the damage created.

By leaning on an anthropomorphic narrative, Silicon Valley attempts to repackage its specific human choices that led to experimental, powerful models behaving unexpectedly during tests as an existential peril. Elevating the issue to a cosmic scale leaves the public paralyzed and takes ordinary product accountability off the table.

In the cutthroat race for venture capital and market dominance, building guardrails slows down deployment. Grandstanding about uncontrollable power costs nothing and generates billions of dollars in free publicity, justifying stock prices, all while cultivating an aura of technological capability not only to build the frontier but also ultimately to rein it in.

Governments need to recognize regulatory capture when it stares them in the face. Tech leaders’ strategy looks transparent: Alarm Washington and Brussels into creating a regime in which only trillion-dollar incumbents with fully staffed compliance and safety departments can legally operate. By sitting at the policymakers’ tables before anyone else, these companies can help draft rules digging an impassable moat protecting them from open-source developers and upstart competitors, domestic or international. The real danger is in further concentrating the tech industry into the hands of only a few companies with deep pockets.

Beijing and Washington have brushed off those tech leaders’ calls, albeit for very different reasons. Chinese state media dismissed them as part of the “Cold War playbook” and intended to preserve U.S. dominance. Xi Jinping argued for exactly the opposite at the Brics Summit on Sept. 12, calling on Brics countries to “strengthen cooperation in the field of AI, encourage open source, openness, collaboration and sharing, and break new grounds and scale new heights.” President Trump, steeped in a doctrine of unfettered capitalism and technological supremacy, called fears that AI could destroy humanity a “hoax.” Vice President JD Vance warned that AI companies “begging the government to regulate them” looked like a “Trojan Horse.”

Striving to pursue its “European way” on AI and assert regulatory leadership, Europe, by contrast, welcomed the call. European Union President Ursula von der Leyen made this clear at the State of the EU speech last Wednesday and announced that the EU will invite “the main frontier labs for a discussion on how we can support ongoing industry efforts to pace the frontier.”

Europe has been here before. In an effort to lead global regulation and react to fears borne from ChatGPT, Europe rushed its landmark AI Act into law in 2024. Already the world’s most restrictive rulebook, the framework quickly proved too broad and complex to enforce. Stalled by implementation delays and concerns about European competitiveness, the EU postponed the law’s full rollout, leaving regulations uncertain.

AI should be regulated—risks exist and should be taken seriously. But governments need to act based on available evidence and verified facts, not corporate PR panic, the views of industry insiders, or the desire for quick political wins. The greatest danger facing society isn’t that software will awaken and overthrow its human masters. It is that we will allow the creators of the software to abdicate human responsibility for the systems they choose to build and help them pull up the ladder to market access behind them.

Bentley’s 2023 Continental GTC Speed: A Cheetah in a Lion Suit

AI doesn’t rebel—people design, deploy and profit from it. The real danger lies in allowing tech companies to escape accountability while shaping regulations that protect their dominance.