Because today’s auto industry feels thoroughly international — Americans can buy nearly any car made anywhere, and American vehicles are common sights overseas — it’s easy to forget how deeply regional car markets still are.

That’s the topic of the latest episode of “The Drive,” a podcast I host with executive analyst at iSeeCars.com and Forbes Autos contributor Karl Brauer. This week, our guest is longtime Detroit News auto columnist and syndicated cartoonist Henry Payne.

Japan’s streets — especially in dense cities like Tokyo — are filled with vehicles most Americans rarely see: kei cars, a government-defined class of tiny, boxy, ultra-efficient runabouts.

In a conversation that jumps from Japan’s Mobility Show to the battle over unionization at Volkswagen’s U.S. plant in Chattanooga, we keep returning to the same theme: Cars are global, but markets are local—and policy is increasingly the hidden hand behind what gets built, where, and for how much.

The power of US demand

Payne joins us fresh from the 2025 Japan Mobility Show, an experience he says he found “surreal.”

“My grandfather fought on Okinawa in WWII, and here I am two generations later, and I am going to Japan as a guest of Honda,” he says.

Despite all that’s changed since then, Payne says the show was a reminder of how regional cars still are.

Japan’s streets — especially in dense cities like Tokyo — are filled with vehicles most Americans rarely see: kei cars, a government-defined class of tiny, boxy, ultra-efficient runabouts. They’re built around small displacement engines, tight dimensions, and the reality that Japan imports most of its energy. They make sense there.

In the U.S. they generally wouldn’t — despite recent rumblings from Trump to the contrary.

That contrast matters because it underlines a second point: The United States is not just a big market — it’s a market that props up entire global product plans. Payne notes that Honda sells far more of its output in the United States than it does in Japan, and other Japanese brands lean even harder on American buyers. The U.S. consumer is simply a different customer: higher buying power, more space, more appetite for variety, and more willingness (or necessity) to buy larger vehicles.

In other words, when automakers build out multiple trims and performance variants off the same platform — base model, sport model, track model, special edition — that’s usually because of U.S. demand.

Auto industry math still comes down to very specific local realities: what people can afford, where they live, what infrastructure exists, and what regulators demand.

Flex or flounder

If Japan shows how regional car markets still are, Chattanooga shows what happens when the most powerful market of all — the United States — starts limiting its own flexibility.

Payne’s argument is that transplant automakers (foreign brands building cars in the U.S.) have long enjoyed a competitive advantage: non-union shops.

It’s important to note that the advantage is not in labor prices — “You’ll find that the pay scales of the non-union automakers in these right-to-work states are pretty competitive with UAW,” Payne says — but in the ability to adapt to changing markets.

Unions add a layer of management that makes it more difficult to shift production, change processes, and retool lines.

Nonetheless, Volkswagen’s Chattanooga plant last year became the first foreign-owned factory to unionize. This was the UAW’s third attempt to unionize the plant — and the first time that VW didn’t put up a fight. Why not?

In a word, Payne says, the EV mandate. Because it so much harder to make a profit on EVs, VW relies on various subsidies and tax breaks — incentives turned out to be politically sensitive.

Volkswagen wasn’t legally required to accept unionization — but the politics had shifted. With the UAW closely aligned with Democrats and billions in EV incentives flowing from Washington, Payne notes that VW received a letter from 33 Democratic senators urging it to stay neutral, citing “a lot of money on the line.” The leverage wasn’t statutory; it was political.

Thanks to President Trump, the EV tax credits ended in September, removing much of VW’s incentive to unionize. Of course, by then it was too late.

SEMA CEO Mike Spagnola. Bill Clark/Getty Images

‘The Henry Ford of his time’

The conversation ends with a more personal detour: Payne’s long-running fascination with Tesla — which he sees less as an “EV brand” and more as a rare disruptor in a mature, brutally difficult industry.

In fact, Payne calls Elon Musk “the Henry Ford of his time” and the Tesla Model 3 (he’s on his third) “the most fascinating car I’ve ever owned.”

“It’s good to have a disruptor,” Payne continues, likening Musk to Donald Trump and the latter’s effect on Washington, D.C. “It’s good to have Elon Musk come into the automotive industry ... and say, ‘Why are we selling cars through dealers instead of through stores like Apple sells iPhones? Why aren’t we updating cars constantly like phones and making them better on the road?’”

And if you’re wondering why your next car costs what it costs — or why automakers seem to change direction every six months — this episode offers a blunt answer: The industry is being pulled by forces that don’t always align, and the tug-of-war is happening everywhere at once.

Listen to the full episode of “The Drive with Lauren and Karl” (featuring Henry Payne) below.

American muscle-car culture is alive and well ... in Dubai

One of the first things I did when I moved to Dubai was buy a Dodge Challenger. Not the volcanic Hellcat or the feral Scat Pack — the SXT, the V6 base model.

Nevertheless, for those nine months in 2023, the car carried itself like it had seen things it couldn’t legally discuss. I miss it the way a grounded teenager misses his phone — painfully and often. The car was, in many ways, gloriously pointless. But to me, it was absolutely perfect. Nobody buys a Dodge for practicality. You buy one because fun is a dying art and driving is supposed to feel alive.

America insists this is why we can’t have nice things. The UAE shrugs, inhales some shisha, and says, 'Great, we’ll have them instead.'

What fascinated me then, and still does now, is how the Middle East has quietly become the last stronghold for real American muscle.

Dubai drift

While America agonizes over emissions charts and frets about carbon neutrality, Dubai is out there treating a supercharged V8 like a household appliance. You hear them everywhere — echoing off glass towers, screaming down Sheikh Zayed Road, prowling through parking lots like metal predators looking for prey. It’s the sound of a culture still in love with combustion, unashamed of horsepower, and utterly allergic to guilt.

The region adores these cars. Worships them, even. In the West, muscle cars are increasingly treated like contraband with headlights, monitored by regulators the way principals monitor school corridors. But in the UAE, they’re symbols of power, freedom, excess, and the simple joy of pressing a pedal and feeling physics panic.

The numbers back it up. The UAE’s classic-car market is projected to grow from roughly $1.23 billion in 2023 to nearly $1.83 billion by 2032, with collectors routinely paying well above American estimates. This is particularly true for rare models, such as the 1971 Plymouth Hemi ’Cuda convertible that sold for about $4.2 million in Dubai, roughly 35% above its American estimate.

Men in flowing robes and sandals race around industrial estates with the confidence of emperors and the cornering ability of a wardrobe on wheels. Somehow, by the grace of God (not Allah), it all works. There’s something delightfully surreal about watching a man dressed like he stepped out of the book of Exodus drift a Challenger with monk-like serenity.

Combustion cosplay

Back home, Dodge now calls its new EVs “muscle.” But that’s like a woman getting very expensive surgery in a very private place and calling herself a man. Without the roar, the vibration, the combustion, it’s cosplay — an impersonation that fools no one except the marketing department. You can’t call something a muscle car if it sounds like a dentist’s drill.

Real muscle needs rumble. It needs that primal, throat-deep growl that shakes your sternum and announces your arrival three zip codes away. Take that away, and you’re just a sad sack who should have bought a Tesla and called it a day.

When muscle cars disappear, the loss isn’t just mechanical but cultural. For decades, when the world pictured America, it didn’t picture Washington or Wall Street. It pictured steel, cylinders, and a V8 rumble rolling across a desert highway.

Hollywood hardwired that association into the global imagination. "Bullitt," "Vanishing Point," "Smokey and the Bandit," even the "Fast & Furious" franchise, for all its awful acting and cheese thick enough to insulate a house. I still remember being 8 years old, watching "Gone in 60 Seconds," and thinking, Yes, this is what adulthood should look like.

You could grow up thousands of miles away, never having set foot on American soil, and still recognize the sound of a Mustang firing up. It was the unofficial anthem of the greatest nation on Earth, a national ringtone encoded in exhaust fumes. It symbolized everything the country loved about itself: rebellion, possibility, the belief that any man with a heavy foot and enough premium gasoline could outrun his problems. It was an identity as much as a mode of transport.

CNBC/Getty Images

Revvers' refuge

And that’s the tragedy. A silent America isn’t an America anyone recognizes. The muscle car was more than a vehicle. It was a character, a co-star, an accomplice. Kill it off, and the whole story changes — and not for the better.

And oddly, it’s the Middle East that seems most intent on preserving that myth. It’s as if the region has been appointed the accidental curator of America’s automotive soul. The UAE, in particular, feels like the final refuge where these cars can run wild. Environmental regulations exist there, but only in the same way that scarecrows exist — present, decorative, and cheerfully ignored. The country is spotless, the air somehow clearer than cities that run entire marketing campaigns screaming “sustainability!” And yet it’s bursting with Challengers and Chargers. America insists this is why we can’t have nice things. The UAE shrugs, inhales some shisha, and says, “Great, we’ll have them instead.”

It makes you re-think the demonization of muscle cars. We were told they were barbaric, dirty, irresponsible — rolling catastrophes portrayed as personal hand grenades lobbed at the atmosphere. Meanwhile, Dubai keeps its streets cleaner than half of California while simultaneously hosting enough horsepower to make a U.N. peacekeeper reach for the radio. The contradiction is almost poetic. The place accused of excess manages to be pristine, while the places preaching virtue can’t manage basic cleanliness without a committee and a grant.

Selling sand to a camel

A quick disclaimer for anyone feeling inspired to follow my lead. Dubai might be paradise for muscle cars, but it’s also the Wild West of used-car dealing. A shocking number of “mint condition” imports arrive after being wrapped around a tree somewhere in North America, are given a light cosmetic baptism, and are relaunched onto the market as if they had spent their lives humming gently down suburban streets.

Half the salesmen — greasy, fast-talking veterans from Lebanon, Palestine, and everywhere in between — could sell sand to a camel. You need your eyes open. Fortunately, I knew the sites where you can run a chassis number and see the car’s real history, dents, disasters, and all. It saved me from driving home in a beautifully repainted coffin.

Even with this dark underbelly, Dubai’s affection for American muscle is entirely authentic. You see it on weekend nights at the gas stations, which double as unofficial car shows. Dozens gather, engines idling like caged animals, while men compare exhaust notes with the seriousness of diplomats negotiating borders. Teenagers film everything, because why wouldn’t you document a species this endangered? The entire scene feels like a sanctuary, a place where mechanical masculinity hasn’t been entirely euthanized.

Muscle migration

Some of the funniest moments came from watching Emirati drivers — men dressed in immaculate white garments — exit their cars with Hollywood swagger, as if the Challenger were simply an extension of their personality. And in many ways, it was. It was part "Need for Speed," part Moses at the Marina. And somehow, without irony, they pulled it off.

Living there made me realize that muscle cars aren’t dying everywhere. Rather, they’re migrating. Fleeing the jurisdictions that shame them and settling in regions that still celebrate joy. The Middle East has become the last refuge for these beasts. Not because it rejects the future, but because it refuses to surrender the past for a machine that feels clinically dead on delivery.

And that’s the real tragedy. America built the muscle car, mythologized it, exported it, then surrendered it to paper-pushers in Priuses, armed with clipboards and calculators. The UAE bought the export and kept the myth alive. My Challenger is gone now, sold to a man who claimed he needed it for “family errands.” But the fond memories of tearing around the city have never faded. America may have abandoned its automotive adolescence, but Dubai, thankfully, hasn’t.

Someone has to keep the engines roaring. And right now, it’s the men in sandals.

An ‘ankle bracelet’ for your car? AZ pushes new tech for serial speeders

Watch out, speed demons — the open road might be getting a little less free.

Arizona, known for its sun-soaked, sprawling highways, may soon become the first state to offer a high-tech alternative for habitual speeders: a “digital ankle bracelet” for your car.

With this new technology, Arizona may be taking the first step toward a future where cars themselves enforce the law.

Lawmakers are considering a bill that would allow drivers at risk of losing their licenses to keep their privileges by installing devices that actively prevent their vehicles from exceeding posted speed limits.

The proposal, spearheaded by Republican state Representative Quang Nguyen, would let drivers voluntarily equip their cars with speed-limiting technology. The system relies on a combination of GPS and cellular signals to determine the legal speed on any given road. Electronics connected to the car’s engine control unit then prevent the vehicle from exceeding that limit, no matter how hard the driver presses the accelerator.

Speed bump

For practical reasons, the technology does include an override mode that permits a temporary 10 mph boost up to three times per month, giving drivers a limited margin to react in emergencies or avoid accidents.

Nguyen estimates the devices would cost around $250 to install, with a daily operating fee of roughly $4. He has been working closely with companies that manufacture the technology, including Smart Start and LifeSafer, to ensure the system is effective and reliable. This makes me wonder if he owns a piece of the company or has stock in the company.

Under the bill, which Nguyen plans to formally introduce when the state legislature reconvenes in January, participation is optional — probably Nguyen’s earlier attempt to make it mandatory was a nonstarter.

Slow lane

Arizona is not alone in exploring this approach. Virginia, Washington State, and Washington, D.C., have already enacted similar laws. In Virginia, courts can require drivers with multiple speeding violations or reckless driving convictions to install electronic speed-limiting devices as an alternative to license suspension. Washington State has adopted a comparable program, giving judges discretion to mandate the technology for repeat offenders while monitoring compliance.

In Washington D.C., the program is more limited but aims to reduce repeat speeding among drivers with multiple moving violations. Meanwhile, Wisconsin is currently considering similar legislation.

These programs highlight a growing trend: Rather than grounding drivers entirely, some states are experimenting with technology as a way to enforce safe driving without taking away mobility. Proponents argue that these devices could prevent serious accidents while still allowing drivers to maintain employment, care for families, and perform other essential daily tasks. The technology also provides courts with a tangible tool to ensure compliance, rather than relying solely on citations and license suspensions.

Discount Tire

Machine learning

However, critics remain cautious. Some transportation and safety experts question whether the technology is advanced enough to accurately detect all posted speed limits. GPS mapping errors, temporary speed changes in construction zones, or malfunctioning sensors could cause a car to slow unexpectedly or fail to limit speed when needed, creating new safety risks. Privacy advocates also worry about how these devices track and store location data, raising concerns about government overreach or potential misuse.

From a practical standpoint, the legislation raises fundamental questions about the balance between personal responsibility and technological enforcement. Supporters argue it offers a lifeline to drivers who repeatedly violate speed laws but are otherwise safe, while critics maintain that it may encourage riskier behavior by transferring accountability from the individual to the machine.

There’s also the question of fairness. Not all drivers have access to new technology or the financial resources to participate in a program that charges daily operating fees. While $4 per day may seem modest, over a month or a year, it could be prohibitive for some families, effectively limiting the program to more affluent drivers. Additionally, the optional nature of the program could create inconsistencies across jurisdictions, leaving some habitual offenders unmonitored while others are under constant technological supervision.

Whether the measure passes will depend not only on lawmakers’ assessment of safety and effectiveness but also on public perception. Speeding remains the most common moving violation in the United States, and habitual offenders are a persistent concern for states nationwide. With this new technology, Arizona may be taking the first step toward a future where cars themselves enforce the law — but whether that future is practical, safe, or desirable remains up for debate.

At the very least, it’s a bold experiment in road safety and personal responsibility, one that could reshape the way states think about controlling speed without grounding drivers entirely. As the legislature prepares to weigh the bill, motorists, safety experts, and privacy advocates alike will be watching closely, asking the same question: Can a car truly keep its driver out of trouble, or is this just another way to shift accountability from human judgment to technology?

Goodbye, car radio? Big Tech’s plans to control what you listen to behind the wheel.

First, it was AM radio — now it’s FM too.

Imagine starting your car and realizing that what you can — or can’t — hear has already been decided for you. The same tech giants that censor your posts, curate your newsfeeds, and impact your online experience now want to control what plays through your vehicle dashboard.

Congress must act to guarantee that all broadcast radio remains standard equipment in vehicles, ensuring that free access to information doesn’t become a premium feature.

Tesla recently confirmed it will remove FM radio from its base Model 3 and Model Y vehicles. Just days later, General Motors doubled down on plans to eliminate Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, opting instead for proprietary systems designed with Big Tech partners.

Individually, these sound like technical upgrades. But together, they represent a fundamental shift: handing over more control of your car to corporations. We’ve seen this before in our social media feeds, search results, and app stores. Now, the same algorithms and corporate interests that decide what you see and hear online are coming for your radio dial.

Walled garden

For generations, the car radio has been the great equalizer — free, local, and open to all. It delivers news, weather alerts, and community updates instantly, no subscription or data plan required.

Even today, the majority of drivers still prefer to listen to terrestrial radio while in the car.

But as vehicles become software platforms — with their own digital ecosystems — automakers are rewriting the rules.

By removing AM and FM radio and blocking third-party apps like CarPlay and Android Auto, they funnel drivers into closed environments where they alone decide what content is available.

Safety first

This is about safety as well. When the power goes out, when cell towers fail, and when internet connections drop, broadcast radio keeps transmitting. It remains the backbone of America’s Emergency Alert System — reaching 272 million listeners every week.

FEMA, the Department of Homeland Security, and emergency managers nationwide all rely on AM radio as critical communications infrastructure. In fact, seven former FEMA administrators from both parties have urged Congress to safeguard AM radio, citing its unmatched reliability and essential role in the success of the National Public Warning System.

But the stakes go beyond emergencies. Broadcast radio remains democracy’s most accessible platform. Local news stations serve communities too small for cable bureaus or newsrooms. Faith-based programming reaches congregations across denominations. Foreign-language broadcasts connect immigrant communities. Agricultural reports guide farmers making real-time decisions. High school football gets the same airtime as professional sports. These aren’t premium features available to subscribers.

They’re free, open, and available to anyone with a radio — until automakers decide they’re not.

Gary Leonard/Getty Images

Gatekeeper playbook

We know what happens when platforms consolidate control over content distribution. Algorithms replace editorial judgment. Subscription tiers determine access.

Content that doesn’t serve corporate interests gets deprioritized or excluded entirely. Tesla’s FM removal isn’t an isolated decision. GM’s CarPlay elimination isn’t a technical preference. These are coordinated moves toward a future where your dashboard operates like your smartphone — except you can’t choose a different car as easily as you can switch apps.

The difference is critical: When you’re behind the wheel, access to information isn’t just about convenience. It’s about safety, civic engagement, and the free flow of ideas in a democratic society.

Congress to the rescue?

The AM Radio for Every Vehicle Act would require automakers to include AM radio in all new vehicles at no extra cost. With support from more than 315 House members and 61 senators, it’s one of the most bipartisan efforts in Washington today. Yet, as Tesla and GM’s announcements show, time is running out.

Congress must act to guarantee that all broadcast radio remains standard equipment in vehicles, ensuring that free, over-the-air access to information doesn’t become a premium feature. The automotive industry will argue this is about “consumer choice” and “technical optimization.” Don’t be fooled. It’s about controlling a captive audience and deciding what tens of millions of Americans will hear every day. Lawmakers need to pass the bill. And the public needs to push back.

Call your representatives and tell them to support the AM Radio for Every Vehicle Act. Make your voice heard before automakers take it away.

$4,500 fee to own a car? Welcome to Virginia.

Most Americans assume that once you buy your car, pay the sales tax, register it, and keep up with routine fees, you have met your financial obligations as a vehicle owner.

Unfortunately, that is far from reality in many parts of the country.

Yearly taxes based on fluctuating and often overestimated valuations create financial unpredictability that families cannot plan for.

The most glaring example right now is Virginia, where residents are dealing with a yearly tax system that feels less like responsible public policy and more like a state-sponsored shakedown.

Number crunch

A Virginia man recently opened his annual vehicle property tax bill to find a stunning total: some $4,500. He wasn’t being penalized for late fees, accidents, or violations. There were no repairs included. This wasn’t registration or insurance. It was simply a tax for owning vehicles he had already paid off.

The state assigns an assessed value to each vehicle, applies a rate of $2.35 per $100 of that value, and charges the owner every single month the vehicle remains titled in his name. This is just for owning the car. Nothing more.

What most people don’t realize is that the government is the one deciding what your vehicle is “worth” — not you, not the market, and definitely not an actual buyer.

Market markup

In states that impose yearly vehicle property taxes, the valuation is created by your local tax assessor or commissioner of the revenue. They rely on industry databases like NADA Guides, J.D. Power, and Black Book to determine a “fair market value,” even if that value has nothing to do with your vehicle’s real condition or current market demand.

That means your car’s official valuation can increase even as it ages, simply because the guidebooks reflect a national trend or a temporary spike in used car prices. The state then taxes you on that number, regardless of whether you could actually sell your car for it.

Owners can appeal these valuations, but anyone who has tried knows the process is frustrating and rarely successful. To dispute the number, you have to prove high mileage, major mechanical problems, or accident history — all while the county defends its valuation because those inflated numbers generate revenue. You can own a dented, high-mileage car and still get taxed as if it were pristine. That disconnect is part of what makes the system feel so unfair.

Doubly taxing

This entire setup creates a perpetual double-taxation model. When you buy a vehicle, you pay sales tax up front. Depending on the state, that can be significant. But in states like Virginia, you pay again every single year for as long as you own it. Registration fees, insurance requirements, state inspections, emissions testing, fuel taxes, and local add-on fees layer on top of that. For families with multiple drivers, or rural residents who depend on vehicles to get anywhere, these recurring charges become a major burden.

And now, the federal government wants to add another layer.

The House Transportation & Infrastructure Committee has introduced a proposal to impose new annual federal taxes on all registered vehicles: $200 per year for electric vehicles, $100 for hybrids, and $20 for every other passenger vehicle. These fees would apply indefinitely, regardless of driving habits, condition, income level, or vehicle necessity. The proposal is expected to raise around $7 billion per year, but even that only fills about one-third of the current shortfall in the Highway Trust Fund.

What’s worse is that the same bill delivers an average tax cut of $278,000 over ten years to the top 0.1% of earners. Everyday Americans pay more to keep driving, while the wealthiest see the biggest benefits. This imbalance is fueling much of the outrage behind the current debate.

Jeff Greenberg/Getty Images

Human cost

Historically, gas taxes funded the nation’s highway system because they acted as a logical user fee. The more you drive, the more fuel you buy, and the more you contribute to maintaining the infrastructure you actually use.

The problem is that gas taxes haven’t been adjusted for inflation since 1993. As vehicles have become more fuel-efficient, the revenue stream has fallen behind. Instead of modernizing the system or transitioning toward a fair mileage-based model tied to real road usage, policymakers have increasingly leaned on ownership-based taxes — the least fair approach of all.

The human cost of these policies rarely gets attention. For many Americans, a vehicle isn’t a luxury; it’s the only way to get to work, take kids to school, make doctor appointments, or care for elderly relatives. Yearly taxes based on fluctuating and often overestimated valuations create financial unpredictability that families cannot plan for. They also disproportionately hurt the same people who rely on older vehicles because they can’t afford new ones.

Return to fairness

There are far better solutions available. Policymakers could update fuel taxes to reflect inflation, adopt a realistic and privacy-protected mileage-based approach, streamline wasteful transportation spending, and prioritize projects that genuinely improve infrastructure safety and efficiency. All of these would create a transparent model where people contribute based on actual use, not on arbitrary valuations created in government offices.

Virginia’s situation has become a flash point because it reflects a national trend: Americans feel squeezed, and they are increasingly questioning why the government continues to charge them — year after year — for something they already own. Vehicle property taxation may look like easy revenue on paper, but it is deeply disconnected from economic reality and from what drivers need to stay mobile and financially stable.

Ending annual vehicle taxation isn’t a radical idea. It’s a return to fairness and common sense. When you’ve already paid sales tax, kept up with registrations, and followed every rule required to drive legally, the government should not be allowed to treat your car like a permanent ATM. The pushback we are seeing now is long overdue, and lawmakers would be wise to pay attention.

Flock Safety: Is any driver safe from its AI-powered surveillance?

Buckle up, America — because if you’re driving anywhere in this country, you’re already under surveillance.

I’m not talking about speed traps or red-light cameras. I’m talking about Flock Safety cameras, those sleek, solar-powered, AI-driven spies perched on poles in your neighborhood, outside your kid’s school, at the grocery store, and along every major road.

The Institute for Justice has filed a federal lawsuit arguing that Flock effectively builds detailed, warrantless movement profiles of ordinary people.

These cameras are not just reading your license plate. They’re building a digital DNA profile of your vehicle — make, model, color, dents, bumper stickers, roof racks, even temporary tags — and logging where you’ve been, when, and with whom you’ve traveled.

And guess who has 24/7 access? Your local police, HOAs, apartment complexes, and private businesses — all without a warrant, without your consent, and often without you even knowing they exist.

Worse than you think

I’ve been warning drivers for decades about government overreach, from cashless tolls to black-box data recorders. But Flock Safety? This is next-level.

Founded in 2017 in Atlanta, Flock has exploded into a $3.5 billion surveillance empire with over 900 employees and a single goal: blanket every city in America with cameras. As of 2024, it has already deployed 40,000 to 60,000 units across 42 states in more than 5,000 communities. That’s not a pilot program. That’s a national tracking grid.

Here’s how it works — and why it should terrify every freedom-loving American.

Pure surveillance tools

Flock’s Falcon and Sparrow cameras don’t enforce speed or traffic laws. They’re pure surveillance tools.

Mounted on utility poles, traffic signals, or private property, they use automated license plate recognition (ALPR) and Vehicle Fingerprint™ technology to capture high-resolution images of your vehicle’s rear, including the license plate with state, number, and expiration, plus the make, model, year, color, and unique identifiers like dents, decals, roof racks, spare tires, even paper plates. They record the time, date, and GPS location, using infrared imaging for 24/7 operation, even at 100 mph from 75 feet away.

The data is uploaded instantly via cellular networks to Flock’s cloud servers, stored for 30 days, and accessible through a web portal by any approved user. That includes police departments across state lines through Flock’s TALON investigative platform. Drive from Georgia to New York, and every Flock camera you pass logs your journey. No warrant needed in most states.

F8 Imaging/Getty Images

Staggering scale

The scale is staggering. Milwaukee has 219 cameras with 100 more planned. Riverside County, California, uses 309 cameras to scan 27.5 million vehicles monthly. Norfolk, Virginia, has over 170 units. Raleigh, North Carolina, has 25 and counting.

Nationwide, Flock claims it logs over one billion vehicle scans per month. These cameras cost $2,500 per year per unit, are solar-powered with no wiring required, and can be installed in hours. HOAs love them, schools want them, police can’t get enough, and new units go up daily, often without public notice or approval.

Flock CEO Garrett Langley loves to brag about Flock's crime-stopping potential. But what he doesn't mention is that you’re tracked whether you’re a criminal or not.

No opting out

There’s no true opt-out for the public — every passing car is still scanned and logged — but some neighborhoods and agencies use Flock's SafeList feature to avoid nuisance alerts. SafeList doesn’t exempt anyone from being recorded. It simply tells the system not to flag certain familiar plates (residents, staff, permitted vehicles) as suspicious. The camera still captures the vehicle, stores the image, and makes it searchable; it just won’t trigger an alert for those approved plates.

Flock cameras can photograph more than a license plate — sometimes the interior of a car, passengers, or bumper stickers — but this varies by angle and lighting, and the system is not designed to gather facial images.

Privacy nightmare

This is a privacy nightmare. The ACLU and Electronic Frontier Foundation call it mass surveillance. A small-town cop in Ohio can search your plate and see everywhere you’ve driven in Florida. Rogue officers have abused ALPR before, stalking exes, journalists, activists. Data breaches? Flock says its cloud is secure, but we’ve heard that before.

A 2024 Norfolk, Virginia, ruling initially held that Flock’s system amounted to a Fourth Amendment search requiring a warrant. But that decision was later reversed on appeal. Meanwhile, the Institute for Justice has filed a federal lawsuit arguing that Flock effectively builds detailed, warrantless movement profiles of ordinary people. If that case succeeds, it would be a true game-changer.

Yes, finding a kidnapped child or stolen car is good. But at what cost? This creates a chilling effect: Will you avoid a protest, a church, a gun shop, a clinic, knowing you’re being logged? This isn’t safety. This is control.

Fighting back

So what can you do right now? Start by finding the cameras — contact your police, city council, or HOA and ask where the Flock cameras are and who has access.

Demand transparency: Push for public hearings, warrant requirements, data deletion after 24 hours, and no sharing outside your jurisdiction. Support the fighters like the ACLU, EFF, and Institute for Justice. Spot the cameras yourself — look for black poles with tilted solar panels and a small camera box.

It's time to post your opinions on X, call your reps, show up at meetings — let's stop the surveillance.

Flock’s CEO dreams of a camera in every U.S. city. But liberty isn’t free, and it shouldn’t come with a tracking device.

Drop your thoughts below — I read every comment. Share this information with every driver you know. Because if we don’t fight now, soon there’ll be nowhere left to hide.

Would you buy a car from Amazon?

Amazon cars?

Amazon changed the way America buys books, clothes, electronics, and groceries. Now it is moving on the auto industry — and if you think this is just another “online shopping feature,” you’re missing the real story.

States that are friendly to corporate expansion will see no problem granting Amazon a dealer license — especially if Amazon frames it as 'consumer choice.'

The retail behemoth isn’t dipping a toe into car sales. It is positioning itself to become the central hub for buying new and used vehicles, and the consequences for automakers, dealers, independent media, and referral sites could be massive.

This isn’t a future concept. It is already happening.

First Hyundai, now Ford

Amazon’s initial partnership with Hyundai was framed as a new, streamlined shopping experience. The pitch sounded harmless enough: browse Hyundai vehicles on Amazon, apply for financing online, complete most of the paperwork digitally, then head to a participating dealer to pick up your car. Simple, familiar, and built into the platform millions of people already use every day.

The original Hyundai-Amazon announcement described the partnership as “a first-of-its-kind digital shopping destination” that makes buying or leasing “easier than ever.” It taps directly into Amazon’s strongest asset — consumer trust.

But Hyundai was only the beginning.

Ford is now joining Amazon Autos with its certified pre-owned inventory. Behind the scenes, Amazon is simultaneously negotiating with CarMax, Carvana, AutoNation, and some of the largest dealer groups in the country. This isn’t a test run. It’s the early build of a national automotive marketplace — one that Amazon plans to control.

Referral sites in retreat?

For years, companies like Cars.com, CarGurus, TrueCar, Edmunds, and Cox Automotive have dominated the referral business. Their entire model revolves around sending shoppers to dealers and collecting millions in referral fees — often the largest part of their revenue.

Amazon is about to pull the rug out from under them. This could put their business model and future in jeopardy.

If car shoppers can browse inventory, arrange financing, compare models, complete paperwork, and reserve vehicles on Amazon, why would they bother with referral sites that offer a fraction of the convenience?

Amazon has a proven track record: Once it enters a sector, it tends to dominate it. It did it to bookstores. It did it to electronics retailers. It did it to big-box chains. And now it’s setting its sights on automotive commerce.

If Amazon becomes the go-to destination for car-buying, referral-based businesses won’t just take a hit — they could be wiped out entirely.

Licensed dealership

The long-term play is even more ambitious.

Amazon’s next strategic step is to secure dealer franchises and licenses — state by state, brand by brand. With enough lobbying power (and Amazon has plenty), it could position itself not just as a marketplace but as a licensed dealer for multiple brands across numerous states.

At that point, Amazon wouldn’t just connect you with a dealership. It would be the dealership.

And it’s not far-fetched. Amazon already has the infrastructure, logistics, consumer reach, and political influence to take this step. States that are friendly to corporate expansion will see no problem granting Amazon a dealer license — especially if Amazon frames it as “consumer choice."

Once Amazon becomes a licensed dealer for even one or two brands, the floodgates open.

Global ambitions

Make no mistake: Amazon is positioning itself not just as an American car retailer, but as a global auto marketplace.

Imagine a future where you search for a vehicle the same way you search for appliances or running shoes — across multiple brands, with real-time comparisons, financing, protection plans, verified seller ratings, and home delivery.

For Amazon, becoming the global hub for car shopping isn’t just appealing — it’s a potential trillion-dollar expansion.

Automakers, especially those with weaker dealer networks, may see this as an opportunity. But others will find themselves pressured into joining Amazon’s ecosystem simply because they can’t afford not to.

Collateral damage: Independent media

There’s another consequence many aren’t talking about: the impact on independent automotive media.

A large share of industry publications rely on advertising, sponsorships, affiliate links, and referral revenue from dealers and OEMs. Amazon’s dominance would compress or eliminate those revenue streams — especially for outlets that depend on SEO-driven traffic or links sending shoppers to dealer websites.

If Amazon becomes the central platform for car buying, reviews, ratings, and consumer research will inevitably shift to Amazon’s ecosystem — just as they have for home goods, tech products, and household essentials.

The result? Independent voices may struggle to survive.

This is not theoretical. This is the pattern Amazon has repeated in every industry it enters.

At first glance, more convenience sounds great for shoppers. And in many ways, Amazon’s entrance will make car-buying easier.

But there are real questions about:

Competition: What happens when Amazon dictates the marketplace?
Pricing leverage: Will dealers be forced into Amazon’s system to survive?
Data control: Amazon would have unprecedented access to sensitive buyer information.
Dependence: When everything flows through one platform, innovation suffers.

Automotive choice in the U.S. has always relied on competition. Amazon’s expansion risks shifting that power to a single company.

Photo by Jakub Porzycki/NurPhoto via Getty Images

Own the funnel

Amazon isn’t simply adding cars to its website. It is setting the foundation to become the dominant force in automotive retail.

Hyundai was the first step. Ford is the next. They are selling used and certified pre-owned inventory. The question is when, not if, more brands will follow.

And when they do, the entire structure of the auto industry — from referral sites to dealer groups to independent media — will feel the effects.

This is one of the most significant shifts in automotive commerce in decades. And while many consumers may appreciate the convenience, the long-term consequences deserve serious attention.

Amazon wants to be the new place to buy cars. It plans to own the entire funnel — from discovery to financing to purchase. And if history tells us anything, once Amazon commits to owning a category, it tends to get what it wants.

This story is still unfolding. And it is far bigger than most people realize.

Diesel under attack: EPA targets engines that power America

America runs on diesel. From freight haulers and farm equipment to fire trucks and snowplows, diesel engines are the torque behind our economy.

Yet the same engines that built the nation’s backbone are now in Washington’s crosshairs — strangled by layers of federal regulation that threaten the people who keep America moving.

Fire departments, ambulance services, and municipal snowplows all run on diesel. If their vehicles can’t move, lives are at risk.

The Environmental Protection Agency insists it’s cleaning the air. But for those who live and work beyond the Beltway, these mandates aren’t saving the planet — they’re shutting down livelihoods.

Cost of clean

Since 2010, every diesel engine sold in the U.S. has come fitted with diesel particulate filters and selective catalytic reduction systems — components meant to capture soot and neutralize nitrogen oxides. In theory, they’re good for the environment. In practice, they’re crippling the very trucks that keep shelves stocked and first responders rolling.

DPFs clog, SCR units freeze, and when that happens, engines “derate” into limp mode — losing power until the system is fixed. A single failure can leave a truck stranded for days and cost upwards of $5,000 to repair. For independent owner-operators, who haul 70% of the nation’s freight, that can mean the difference between survival and bankruptcy.

Even worse, under the Clean Air Act, simply repairing or modifying those failing systems can make a mechanic a federal felon.

Tamper tantrum

Meet Troy Lake, a 65-year-old diesel expert from Cheyenne, Wyoming. For decades, Lake kept his community’s fleets running — farm trucks, snowplows, ambulances, and school buses. But when emissions systems began failing in subzero temperatures, Lake found himself forced to choose between obeying Washington’s regulations or keeping critical vehicles on the road.

His fix? Remove the faulty components and reprogram the engine to restore performance — a commonsense solution that kept essential services moving. But the EPA saw it differently. Under federal law, “tampering” with emissions controls carries up to five years in prison and $250,000 in fines per vehicle.

In June 2024, Lake pleaded guilty to one count of emissions tampering. By December, a federal judge sentenced him to a year in prison. His shop was fined $52,500 and shut down. Ironically, during his sentence, Lake worked on the prison’s own diesel equipment — the same skills that, outside those walls, had made him a criminal.

Now home but barred from his trade, Lake carries a felony record that cost him his business, his rights, and his reputation — all for keeping his community’s engines running.

Endless repair cycles

No one disputes that diesel exhaust can harm air quality. The EPA’s emission rules dramatically cut pollution over the past decade. But these results have come at an unsustainable cost to the people who depend on diesel most.

According to the American Trucking Associations, emissions-related repairs account for roughly 13% of total maintenance costs for Class 8 trucks. Each incident costs an average of $1,500 and countless hours of downtime. Multiply that across millions of trucks, and the burden on small businesses and rural economies is staggering.

Farmers, truckers, and local governments can’t afford the endless repair cycles. For them, Washington’s mandates translate to fewer working trucks, higher consumer costs, and dangerous response delays in emergencies.

Senator Lummis fights back

Wyoming Senator Cynthia Lummis (R) sees what’s happening. She’s watched the federal government criminalize working Americans while ignoring the real-world consequences of its rules. In October 2025, she introduced the Diesel Truck Liberation Act — legislation designed to restore sanity and balance.

The bill would:

Remove mandatory federal requirements for DPFs, SCRs, and onboard diagnostics;
Limit the EPA’s enforcement powers over diesel tuning and emissions deletes;
Protect mechanics and operators from prosecution for performing practical repairs; and
Provide retroactive relief — vacating sentences, clearing records, and refunding fines for past convictions.

A call for flexibility

Environmental advocates warn that such legislation could reverse decades of progress under the Clean Air Act.

That’s a legitimate concern. Clean air matters. But it’s also true that today’s engine tuning and filtration technologies are far more advanced than those available when these mandates were written. Recent research shows that advanced, model-based engine controls and “virtual sensors” can significantly cut nitrogen oxide and particulate emissions and help engines stay within strict tailpipe limits while reducing dependence on extra physical sensors and minimizing urea and fuel penalties.

Even current EPA leadership has acknowledged the need for flexibility and modernization. The question isn’t whether we should protect the environment — it’s whether rigid, outdated enforcement is the best way to do it.

And the impact doesn’t stop at the loading dock. Fire departments, ambulance services, and municipal snowplows all run on diesel. If their vehicles can’t move, lives are at risk. A snowstorm doesn’t care about EPA compliance, and neither does a heart attack.

Who makes the rules?

Opponents of the Diesel Truck Liberation Act argue that removing emissions hardware would increase pollution, disproportionately harming urban and low-income communities. Supporters counter that Washington’s policies have already created economic inequality by crushing rural economies and small operators.

The divide isn’t really about clean air — it’s about who gets to make the rules. Should unelected bureaucrats in D.C. dictate how a farmer in Wyoming runs his truck? Or should local communities have the flexibility to balance environmental goals with economic reality?

Image via @MusicScarf/X (screenshot)/Photographer: Emily Elconin/Bloomberg via Getty Images

Common sense prevails

The Diesel Truck Liberation Act doesn’t aim to destroy the Clean Air Act. It aims to reform it. It recognizes that environmental protection must work hand in hand with reliability, safety, and economic survival.

For people like Troy Lake, it’s about justice — not just for one man, but for thousands of mechanics and operators who’ve been punished for solving real problems in real America.

And there’s already a hopeful sign: President Trump recently issued a full pardon for Lake, acknowledging that enforcing broken regulations against hardworking Americans is not justice — it’s overreach.

The next step is whether Congress will follow through. The bill currently sits in the Senate Environment Committee, with hearings expected later this year. If it passes, it could set a precedent for rethinking how environmental policy is enforced — and how to protect the people who keep America running.

America’s diesel fleet isn’t the enemy. It’s the engine that powers our nation — from coast to coast, farm to factory, and every highway in between. Reasonable environmental goals are achievable, but not through criminalizing those who fix the equipment that keeps this country alive.

The question facing lawmakers is simple: Will they choose common sense — or continue punishing the very people who make modern life possible?

Elon Musk to reveal flying car next year

Elon Musk says the next Tesla Roadster might fly. Not figuratively — literally.

Imagine an all-electric supercar that hits 60 mph in under two seconds, then lifts off the pavement like something out of "The Jetsons." It sounds impossible, even absurd. But during a recent appearance on "The Joe Rogan Experience," Musk hinted that the long-delayed Tesla Roadster is about to do the unthinkable: merge supercar speed with vertical takeoff.

If the April 2026 demo delivers even a glimpse of flight, it will cement Tesla’s image as the company that still dares to dream big.

As someone who has test-driven nearly every kind of machine on four (and sometimes fewer) wheels, I’ve seen hype before. But this time, it’s not just marketing spin. Tesla is preparing a prototype demo that could change how we think about personal transportation — or prove that even Elon Musk can aim too high.

Rogan reveal

On Halloween, Musk told Joe Rogan that Tesla is “getting close to demonstrating the prototype,” adding with his usual flair: “One thing I can guarantee is that this product demo will be unforgettable.”

Rogan, always the skeptic, pushed for details. Wings? Hovering? Musk smirked: “I can’t do the unveil before the unveil. But I think it has a shot at being the most memorable product unveil ever.”

He even invoked his friend and PayPal co-founder Peter Thiel, who once said, "We wanted flying cars; instead we got 140 characters."

Musk’s response: “I think if Peter wants a flying car, he should be able to buy one.”

That’s classic Elon — part visionary, part showman. But underneath the bravado lies serious engineering. Musk hinted at SpaceX technology powering the car.

The demonstration, now scheduled for April 1, 2026 (yes, April Fools’ Day), is meant to prove the impossible. Production could start by 2027 or 2028, but given Tesla’s history of optimistic timelines, it may be longer before any of us see a flying Roadster on the road — or in the air.

Good timing

Tesla’s timing isn’t accidental. The company’s Q3 2025 profits fell short due to tariffs, R&D spending, and the loss of federal EV tax credits. With electric vehicle demand cooling, Musk knows how to recapture attention: promise something audacious.

Remember the Cybertruck’s “unbreakable” windows? The demo didn’t go as planned — but it worked as a publicity move. A flying Tesla Roadster could do the same, turning investor eyes (and wallets) back toward Tesla’s most thrilling frontier.

Hovering hype

So can a Tesla actually fly? It may use cold-gas thrusters — essentially small rocket nozzles that expel compressed air for brief, powerful thrusts. The result could be hovering, extreme acceleration, or even short hops over obstacles.

There’s also talk of “fan car” technology, inspired by 1970s race cars that used vacuum fans to suck the car to the track for impossible cornering speeds. Combine that with Tesla’s AI-driven Full Self-Driving systems and new battery packs designed for over 600 miles of range, and the idea starts to sound just plausible enough.

The challenge? Energy density. Vertical flight consumes enormous power, and even Tesla’s advanced 4680 cells may struggle to deliver it without sacrificing range. And if the Roadster truly hovers, it will need reinforced suspension, stability controls, and noise-dampening tech to keep your driveway from turning into a launchpad.

Sky's the limit

Musk isn’t the first to chase this dream. The “flying car” has tempted inventors since the 1910s — and disappointed them nearly as long.

In the optimistic 1950s, Ford’s Advanced Design Studio built the Volante Tri-Athodyne, a ducted-fan prototype that looked ready for takeoff but never left the ground. The Moulton Taylor Aerocar actually flew, cruising at 120 mph and folding its wings for the highway — but only five were ever built.

Even the military tried. The U.S. and Canadian armies funded the Avrocar, a flying saucer-style VTOL craft that could hover but not climb more than six feet. Every generation since has produced new attempts — from the AVE Mizar (a flying Ford Pinto that ended in tragedy) to today’s eVTOL startups like Joby and Alef Aeronautics, the latter already FAA-certified for testing.

The dream keeps coming back because it represents freedom — freedom from traffic, limits, and gravity itself.

Got a permit for that?

Here’s where reality checks in. The Federal Aviation Administration now classifies electric vertical takeoff and landing aircraft under a new category requiring both airplane and helicopter training. You would need a pilot’s license, medical exams, and specialized instruction to legally take off.

Insurance? Astronomical. Airspace? Restricted. Maintenance? Complex. In short: This won’t replace your daily driver any time soon. Even if the Roadster hovers, the FAA isn’t handing out flight permits for your morning commute.

Image provided to Blaze News by Jetson

Free parachute with purchase

Flying cars sound thrilling until you consider what happens when one malfunctions. A blown tire is one thing; a blown thruster at 200 feet is another. Tesla’s autonomy might help mitigate pilot error, but weather, visibility, and battery reliability all pose major challenges.

NASA and the FAA are developing new air traffic systems to handle “urban air mobility,” but even best-case scenarios involve strict flight corridors, automated control, and years of testing.

In short: We’re closer than ever to a flying car — but not that close.

Sticking the landing

So will the Tesla Roadster really fly? Probably — at least for a few seconds. Will it transform personal transportation? Not yet.

But here’s the thing: Musk doesn’t have to deliver a mass-market flying car. He just has to prove that it’s possible. And that may be enough to reignite public imagination and investor faith at a time when both are fading for the EV industry.

If the April 2026 demo delivers even a glimpse of flight, it will cement Tesla’s image as the company that still dares to dream big. If it flops, it will join the long list of “flying car” fantasies that fell back to Earth.

Either way, we’ll be watching — because when Elon Musk says he’s going to make a car fly, the world can’t help but look up.

Trading in your car? Here's how to get the biggest payout

When you find the right new car after a long search, it can be tempting to close as soon as possible. But before you sign, there’s one question that can save — or cost — you thousands.

What should you do with your current car?

Should you trade it in at the dealership or sell it privately? It’s more than a convenience question — it’s a strategy. And with used-car prices still unsettled, the right choice can make a real financial difference.

Let’s break down what actually matters and what the dealership won’t always volunteer.

Financial fork

Most buyers can’t keep their old car when upgrading. They use it as part of the down payment. But there are two very different paths:

Trade it in.
Sell it privately for typically more money.

Reality check: Dealerships rarely offer full market value. They need to buy low and sell high — it’s business. Knowing that puts you in control.

If your car is worth $15,000 privately, a dealer may offer $12,000. That’s $3,000 lost — money you could use to lower your loan or upgrade trims.

Why trade-ins win

Sometimes a trade-in is the smarter move — especially in states offering a sales tax credit.

Example: Buy a $40,000 car and trade in a $10,000 vehicle. You’re taxed only on $30,000, which can save you hundreds.

If the tax break closes the gap between your private-sale price and the trade-in offer, taking the trade may be the better move. Plus, there’s no hassle: no listings, no test drives, no strangers.

The timing sweet spot

Timing matters. The best moment to sell or trade is before your factory warranty expires.

3 years / 36,000 miles for basic.
5 years / 60,000 miles for powertrain.

Cars still under warranty are easier to resell and command higher prices. If your car is paid off, clean, and under those mileage limits, you’re in the prime window.

When you owe money

You can trade in a car with an outstanding loan — but be careful. If your car’s value is less than the payoff, that’s negative equity.

Your options: pay the difference Or roll it into your new loan (not ideal).

This is how people end up upside-down for years. Avoid it by calling your lender for your payoff amount and checking your car’s true value on KBB or Edmunds.

If you have positive equity, that difference becomes your down payment.

CBS/Getty Images

Watching the market

Used-car prices have swung wildly since the pandemic. The market is still strong for vehicles that are under five years old; well below 14,500 miles/year; and properly maintained.

If that describes your car, a private sale may be worth it. If not — high miles, cosmetic issues, or a soft local market — a trade-in may be the smarter, calmer choice.

Mileage and condition

Both private buyers and dealers care about the same things: mileage and condition. Before selling or trading, get the car detailed; fix small cosmetic flaws; replace worn tires or weak batteries; and gather maintenance records.

A clean, documented car always sells faster and for more.

The private sale payoff

Selling privately usually brings the highest price. But it has strings attached: writing the listing, taking photos, answering questions, meeting buyers, and handling title and payment. If that sounds like too much, a trade-in may be worth the lower price. But if you have a desirable car and the patience, a private sale can easily beat any dealer offer.

Final decision points

There’s no one-size-fits-all answer. The right move depends on your equity, your time, your state's tax laws, your loan payoff, and your tolerance for hassle.

What matters is going in informed.

Know your numbers. Know your choices. Don’t let a dealer rush you. Done right, you can upgrade smoothly and walk away financially ahead.

Bottom line: Do your homework, understand the trade-offs, and choose the path that keeps the most money in your pocket.