German drivers who bought Lexus vehicles expecting full access to remote and climate features recently got a wake-up call.

Features they paid for were suddenly restricted — not because anything broke, but because of regulatory compliance, connectivity changes, and software control.

The Lexus situation shows how quickly functionality can change when regulations, infrastructure, or software support shifts.

The hardware still works; the car still runs. But the functionality changed anyway.

That’s the part American drivers should pay attention to.

Your vehicle may sit in your driveway; your name may be on the title — but increasingly, key features operate at the discretion of software systems, telecom networks, and regulatory rules.

Rolling computers

Modern vehicles are what the industry calls “software-defined.” Features like remote start, climate preconditioning, and app-based access all depend on telematics — your car communicating with external servers.

If that connection changes or no longer meets regulatory requirements, those features can stop working.

Not because the car can’t do it — but because access has been turned off.

Lexus parent company Toyota confirmed that certain connected services were modified due to compliance and infrastructure limitations. Automakers call this a technical adjustment. Drivers experience it as losing features they already paid for.

This is what happens when policy decisions ripple into everyday life. Governments tighten cybersecurity rules, telecom providers shut down older networks, and automakers update software to stay compliant. And the result shows up in your driveway.

Topical Press Agency/Getty Images

Resale risk

There’s also a financial impact that many buyers don’t consider. When features depend on connectivity, they may require subscriptions, stop working as networks change, or simply not be supported for the life of the vehicle. That affects resale value.

For decades, ownership was simple. If the hardware worked, the feature worked. Now, automakers control the software. Regulators control what is allowed. Telecom providers control connectivity. The owner depends on all three.

That shift helps explain why automakers are pushing subscription-based features. Remote start, heated seats, driver-assistance systems — even performance upgrades are increasingly tied to software instead of built-in hardware.

From the industry’s perspective, it creates flexibility and recurring revenue. From the driver’s perspective, it introduces uncertainty.

There are real benefits to all this connectivity. Software updates can fix problems without recalls. Safety systems can improve over time. Diagnostics can catch issues earlier.

But those benefits come with dependency.

The Lexus situation shows how quickly functionality can change when regulations, infrastructure, or software support shifts. Many buyers still assume their vehicle’s features are permanent.

That assumption no longer holds.

Coming to America

And this isn’t just happening overseas. American vehicles rely on the same telematics systems, the same cellular networks, and the same shift toward software-controlled features. Electric vehicles push this even farther, relying heavily on software for battery management, charging, and performance.

Connectivity isn’t optional any more. It’s built into how the vehicle operates.

The Lexus case isn’t an isolated incident. It’s a preview. Most drivers still assume ownership equals control. But increasingly ownership means access — access that depends on software, connectivity, and compliance.

Because in today’s vehicles, the most important component isn’t under the hood. It’s in the software.

What to check before you buy

Before you buy a vehicle with connected features, ask these questions:

How long are these features supported?
Don’t assume they last the life of the car. Ask for a timeline.

What happens if the network changes?
If the vehicle relies on cellular connectivity, what happens when that network is upgraded or shut down?

Are any features subscription-based?
Some features are included up front but require payment later to keep working.

Can features be removed or modified?
Check the fine print. Many automakers reserve the right to change connected services.

Will this affect resale value?
A car that loses key features over time may be harder to sell — or worth less.

Is there a non-connected fallback?
If connectivity fails, do basic functions still work?

Blinded by modern headlights? A new visor aims to cut the glare

Night driving used to be routine. Now for many drivers, it’s something they actively dread.

The reason is simple: Modern headlights are getting brighter — and for everyone outside the vehicle using them, that often means blinding glare. Drivers are dealing with harsh, white LED and laser lights that can overwhelm their vision in seconds. It’s not just uncomfortable. It’s a real safety issue.

Instead of flipping down a solid visor that blocks part of the windshield, the system uses a clear panel that darkens electronically.

Now Michigan-based auto tech company Gentex says it may have a solution.

Bright lights, big pity

Automakers have spent years pushing more powerful lighting systems in the name of safety. On paper, brighter headlights improve visibility for the driver behind the wheel.

But on real roads, the effect is more complicated.

For oncoming traffic, those same lights can reduce visibility, not improve it. Drivers report being dazzled, losing contrast, and struggling to see lane markings, pedestrians, or obstacles for several seconds after exposure.

That’s not a minor inconvenience. At highway speeds, even a brief loss of clear vision can have serious consequences.

And the data backs up what drivers already know.

A 2024 European survey found that 71% of drivers say headlight glare is intolerable or extremely annoying. More than half say they sometimes squint or briefly close their eyes to cope. A majority report difficulty seeing the road during those moments.

In the United States, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration says glare is now the number one lighting-related complaint from drivers.

Nightly trade-off

This is a classic example of a well-intentioned change creating a new problem.

Headlights have become more powerful due to advances in LED and laser technology, along with evolving safety standards. But there has been less focus on how those lights affect everyone else on the road.

The result is a trade-off drivers feel every night: One driver sees better; everyone else sees worse.

That imbalance is now drawing regulatory attention. European regulators are studying whether lighting rules need to change, and in the U.S., complaints continue to rise.

But regulatory fixes take time — and in the meantime, drivers still have to deal with the problem.

Chris Graythen/Getty Images

Dim some

That’s where companies like Gentex come in.

The proposed solution is a transparent, dimmable sun visor designed to reduce glare from oncoming headlights. Instead of flipping down a solid visor that blocks part of the windshield, the system uses a clear panel that darkens electronically. You can still see through it, but the harsh light is softened.

The technology builds on something many drivers already trust: auto-dimming rearview mirrors. Sensors detect bright light, and the glass adjusts instantly to reduce glare.

Bringing that same concept to the front of the vehicle is a logical next step — and in practice, it works.

In testing and demonstration, the effect is noticeable. The glare is reduced without blocking the road ahead, which is the key difference from a traditional visor. It doesn’t feel like a work-around so much as a natural extension of a feature drivers already rely on.

Eye spy

For drivers who regularly deal with bright, poorly aimed headlights, this kind of technology could make a meaningful difference.

It reduces eyestrain. It makes night driving less fatiguing. And importantly, it does so without requiring drivers to change how they drive or where they refuel — something that has been a sticking point with other new automotive technologies.

That’s part of what makes this approach compelling.

Rather than waiting for a full redesign of headlight standards — or expecting perfect compliance across millions of vehicles — this is a solution that works within the reality drivers already face.

In many ways, this is how the auto industry has always evolved.

A problem emerges. Regulations lag behind. And suppliers step in with technology that improves the driving experience in the meantime.

Made in the shade

Gentex has done this before with auto-dimming mirrors. This visor builds on that same idea — using relatively simple, proven technology to solve a very real problem.

And because it doesn’t require a complete redesign of the vehicle, it’s easier for automakers to adopt.

Like most new features, the dimmable visor will likely appear first in higher-end vehicles when it launches around 2027. Over time, as costs come down, it could move into more mainstream models.

That matters because the underlying issue isn’t going away. Headlights will likely continue getting brighter as automakers pursue better forward visibility and new lighting technologies. Which means glare will remain part of the driving experience.

Practical work-around

Gentex’s dimmable visor doesn’t solve the root issue of headlight glare — but it doesn’t need to. What it does is something more immediate: It gives drivers a way to manage a problem they already deal with every night.

And based on early impressions, it does that in a way that feels intuitive, effective, and easy to live with. In today’s automotive landscape, that kind of practical innovation can go a long way.

Because for many drivers, the challenge isn’t seeing the road. It’s seeing clearly when the road lights up in front of them.

For more on this, check out my interview with Gentex's Craig Piersma.

Start-stop was just hit by the EPA. Now comes the real test.

On the latest episode of "The Drive with Lauren and Karl," Karl Brauer and I talk about a feature drivers almost universally dislike: start-stop technology.

You know the feeling. You pull up to a light, the engine shuts off, and for a split second you wonder whether the car just stalled. Then it lurches back to life when traffic moves again.

This is not a beloved convenience feature. It's not a reason anyone chooses one vehicle over another.

Automakers have spent years smoothing it out, but that hasn’t changed the basic problem. Most drivers still don’t like it. And now, with federal greenhouse gas rules being rolled back, there is a real question hanging over the industry: Will start-stop finally disappear?

This is one of those rare automotive issues on which regular drivers and enthusiasts agree. People neither want nor trust this technology. And many resent being forced to pay for something that was added mainly to satisfy regulations rather than improve the driving experience.

Fuel me once

Start-stop did not spread through the market because drivers demanded it.

It spread because automakers were given a fuel-economy benefit for installing it under federal rules tied to corporate average fuel economy — CAFE standards. In practical terms, the feature helped manufacturers squeeze out regulatory compliance on paper by shutting the engine off at stops.

That may look efficient in a spreadsheet. It looks very different in real traffic.

The problem is that traffic is not clean or predictable. It is constant stop-and-go movement, with drivers creeping, hesitating, inching forward, braking, and accelerating again.

As our guest Mike Harley points out, driving is analog. Those in-between moments — when you are not sure whether traffic is actually moving — are exactly where the system is intrusive and out of sync.

Light-bulb moment

Drivers worry about wear on the starter, wear on the engine, and long-term reliability. Whether every concern is equally justified, the perception problem is real.

Many drivers believe the system adds strain and complexity to a vehicle they are already maintaining at significant cost.

Karl makes the point bluntly. He compares it to the old incandescent light bulb: The moment of greatest strain is when it is first turned on. His argument is that starting the engine repeatedly creates the same kind of wear event over and over again.

That’s a simple way to understand why the feature bothers people.

Consumers are already dealing with high repair costs, expensive electronics, and rising replacement part prices. A system that repeatedly shuts down and restarts the engine does not seem like a benefit. It is one more thing that could break.

And that’s where the frustration really sets in.

Drivers are told the system is there for efficiency. But if it contributes to more wear, more service visits, or more expensive repairs, the cost falls on them — not on the regulators who pushed the standard.

As I have reported previously, mechanics consistently point to increased strain on starters and batteries — even with reinforced components.

Smith Collection/Gado/Saul Loeb/Getty Images

Hesitant to change

I reached out to multiple automakers after hearing that these rules were being reconsidered.

The response was revealing.

Brand after brand gave essentially the same answer: 2026 models will keep start-stop for now, and they are still evaluating what to do with 2027 vehicles.

In other words, even with the regulatory ground shifting, nothing has changed yet on the showroom floor.

That tells you two things.

First, automakers know the system exists because of regulation, not because customers love it. Second, they are still cautious about changing course until they are sure the rules are fully settled.

That caution makes sense from the manufacturer side. But from the consumer side, it means drivers may be stuck with a feature they dislike for longer than expected.

Regulatory logic

One reason start-stop has become such a useful example is that it shows what happens when policy priorities move ahead of consumer experience.

On paper, the feature looked like an easy win. It improved regulatory averages, gave automakers a compliance tool, and let officials claim environmental progress.

But in the real world, drivers are the ones living with the result. They are the ones restarting the engine every time traffic creeps forward. They are the ones shutting the system off manually every time they get in the car. They are the ones paying if extra wear shows up later.

That gap between regulatory logic and everyday driving reality is exactly why this feature has become so unpopular.

Full stop?

It might end — but probably not overnight.

Automakers have already built the systems into their current vehicle architectures. Many are not going to rip them out immediately. But if the regulatory credits tied to start-stop truly disappear, the business case for keeping it becomes weaker.

That matters because there was never much of a consumer case to begin with.

This is not a beloved convenience feature. It's not a reason anyone chooses one vehicle over another. If anything, it can push buyers away — especially when it cannot be permanently disabled.

And that may be the feature’s biggest weakness. Consumers tolerated it because they assumed they had no choice.

A simple question

Drivers have been complaining about start-stop for years, and not because they resist change. They dislike it because it interrupts the driving experience, creates distrust, and solves a regulatory problem more than a consumer one.

The rules that justified the feature are starting to shift. The technology itself hasn’t gone anywhere — yet. But for the first time, automakers may have a real opportunity to ask a simple question: If customers don’t want this, why are we still building it?

And if they listen, start-stop may finally become a case study in what happens when consumers win one back.

You can listen to the full episode of "The Drive with Lauren and Karl" featuring Mike Harley below:

Per-mile driving taxes: The latest way to punish those who drive the most?

A growing number of states are considering a new way to tax drivers: charging you for every mile you travel.

The idea is called a per-mile driving tax, and if it moves forward, the cost of simply using your car could rise dramatically.

To tax driving by the mile, governments need to know exactly how far a vehicle travels. That raises immediate questions about monitoring and data collection.

On a recent episode of "The Drive with Lauren and Karl," Karl Brauer and I discussed how these proposals are spreading — and why they could mean both higher costs and more government monitoring of drivers.

Pay as you go?

States such as California and Massachusetts are exploring mileage-based road charges as a replacement or supplement to traditional fuel taxes. The idea is simple on paper: Instead of paying taxes at the pump, drivers pay based on how many miles they drive.

But in practice, that means a new bill tied directly to your mobility.

Estimates from California state Rep. Carl DeMaio (R) suggest the impact could be substantial. Under proposals being discussed in California, drivers could be charged six to nine cents per mile they travel.

For a typical driver covering about 15,000 miles a year, that translates to roughly $900 to $1,200 annually in new taxes. DeMaio notes that when those charges are layered on top of existing gas taxes and vehicle taxes, the total burden for a two-car household could exceed $4,200 per year just for the privilege of driving.

That’s not a minor adjustment. For many families, it would function like another recurring household bill — tied directly to how much they drive.

And unlike discretionary spending, driving often isn’t optional. Millions of Americans rely on their vehicles to get to work, transport children, care for relatives, and handle everyday errands.

Commuter looter

One of the biggest problems with per-mile taxes is who ends up paying the highest price.

The drivers most likely to rack up mileage are often the ones who can least afford it. In expensive states like California, many workers commute long distances because housing near job centers is out of reach. Living farther out keeps rent or mortgage payments manageable — but it also means driving more miles.

A mileage tax effectively punishes those drivers for circumstances they can’t control.

Karl points out the obvious math: The longer your commute, the higher your tax bill. That means lower-income workers who travel farther to reach their jobs could end up paying more than wealthier drivers who live closer to work.

I spy

There’s another practical issue: How would states measure those miles?

To tax driving by the mile, governments need to know exactly how far a vehicle travels. That raises immediate questions about monitoring and data collection.

Modern cars already gather significant amounts of information through connected systems, insurance telematics, and onboard software. But a statewide mileage tax would likely require even more precise tracking.

Older vehicles without built-in connectivity present another challenge. Any mileage-tax program would still have to account for them, which could mean external tracking devices, reporting systems, or other work-arounds.

However the system is built, the bottom line is that taxing miles requires knowing how many miles you drive — and that opens the door to broader monitoring of driver behavior.

Kill switch 2.0

During the episode, we also talk about how this issue overlaps with new driver-monitoring technology already appearing in modern vehicles.

Under provisions in the 2021 infrastructure law, new vehicles will eventually include systems designed to detect impaired driving. The concept is often described as a safety feature, but the broader concern is how much control these systems could exert over the vehicle itself.

If software determines that a driver is impaired or unsafe, it could prevent the car from operating.

Karl and I agree that no one wants impaired drivers on the road. But once vehicles are equipped with systems capable of monitoring behavior and controlling vehicle operation, the question becomes how those systems might be used — and who ultimately controls them.

For drivers, that raises an uncomfortable possibility: a vehicle that can track, interpret, and potentially restrict how you use it.

Mike Simons/Getty Images

Engine trouble

Even without mileage taxes, the cost of owning and operating a vehicle has been climbing.

Vehicle prices remain high. Insurance premiums have increased significantly in many states. Repairs are more expensive as cars become more technologically complex. Fuel prices remain volatile.

Layering a per-mile tax on top of those costs would make daily transportation even more expensive.

Take California, where drivers already pay the highest fuel taxes in the country. A mileage-based charge might not replace those taxes — it could simply add another layer on top of them.

A broader trend

Mileage taxes also fit into a larger pattern in transportation policy.

Governments are experimenting with new ways to regulate emissions, reshape travel behavior, and generate revenue from road usage. But the people who feel the impact most directly are ordinary drivers.

Policies that make driving more expensive or more restricted don’t affect abstract “vehicle usage.” They affect real people who rely on their cars every day.

That includes workers commuting to jobs, parents transporting children, caregivers helping elderly relatives, and small-business owners who depend on vehicles for their livelihoods.

The bottom line

For most Americans, a car isn’t a luxury — it’s a necessity.

That’s why proposals like per-mile driving taxes deserve close scrutiny. They could dramatically increase transportation costs while expanding the amount of information collected about how drivers use their vehicles.

If states move forward with mileage-based taxes, drivers will be the ones paying the bill — both financially and in terms of how their mobility is monitored.

Listen to the full episode of “The Drive with Lauren and Karl” below:

Salvage title cars are showing up at dealerships. Should you buy one?

More and more car dealers are breaking what was once an industry taboo: selling salvage-title vehicles — cars insurance companies have already written off as total losses.

That change, which Karl Brauer and I discuss on the latest episode of "The Drive with Lauren and Karl," reflects a simple reality: Affordable used cars are getting harder to find.

Alan compares flood damage to a long-term electrical disease inside a vehicle.

Used-car prices remain elevated, and inventory is still tight. Dealers looking for lower-cost vehicles to put on their lots are exploring options they once avoided — including vehicles that insurers have already declared totaled.

Lower prices may sound appealing to buyers struggling with high car costs. But the real question is whether those savings are worth the risk.

To unpack that risk, we brought in our friend automotive broadcaster Alan Taylor, who hosted "The Drive" for years before handing the microphone to Karl and me. Alan used to own a salvage yard before his broadcasting career, giving him firsthand experience buying, repairing, and reselling damaged vehicles.

During the episode, we were ribbing Alan about his new Liquid Carbon Series Mustang GTD, but the conversation quickly turned serious when the topic shifted to salvage vehicles — a business he knows firsthand from years running a wrecking yard.

Why salvage cars are entering the retail market

The driving force is affordability.

When used vehicles become expensive, buyers start searching for cheaper alternatives. Salvage-title vehicles often sell for significantly less than comparable clean-title cars.

For dealers, that means inventory that can be priced lower. For buyers, it can look like an opportunity.

But the lower price exists for a reason.

A salvage title means the vehicle was declared a total loss by an insurance company. That can happen after a crash, flood damage, theft recovery, or another major incident. Once a title is branded salvage, that designation stays with the vehicle permanently.

The problem for buyers is simple: The title tells you something serious happened — but it does not always explain how serious the damage actually was.

Bloomberg/Getty Images

The biggest danger: Flood cars

During the conversation, Karl and Alan both warned that some salvage vehicles carry risks that never truly go away.

Flood-damaged cars are the most notorious example.

Water can infiltrate wiring harnesses, electronic modules, sensors, and interior components. A vehicle might appear normal after repairs, but corrosion inside the electrical system can trigger problems months or years later.

Alan compares flood damage to a long-term electrical disease inside a vehicle — something that may not show up immediately but can slowly spread through the car’s electronics over time.

Those failures can be expensive. Replacing electronic modules, wiring harnesses, or sensor systems in modern vehicles can easily cost thousands of dollars, quickly erasing whatever savings a buyer thought they gained by choosing a salvage car.

A vehicle may pass a test drive today but develop costly electrical problems months later.

Modern cars make salvage repairs riskier

Those risks are greater today than they were decades ago.

Modern vehicles rely on dozens of electronic control units, sensors, and processors to operate everything from safety systems to driver-assistance technology. When those systems are damaged, repairs become far more complicated.

According to Alan, "Anything after 2019 has got so many processors, sensors, and wires" he can sum up the repair process in one word: "Nightmare."

Older vehicles were largely mechanical. Modern vehicles are heavily electronic, and electrical damage can affect systems throughout the car.

That complexity makes hidden problems far more likely.

Not every salvage car is a disaster

At the same time, not every salvage vehicle should be automatically dismissed.

Sometimes a car receives a salvage title for reasons that do not involve catastrophic damage. Theft-recovery vehicles are one example. If an insurer pays the owner after a stolen vehicle disappears, the title can still be branded salvage even if the car is later recovered with relatively minor damage.

Alan saw this firsthand at his salvage yard.

“I used to sell 100 cars a month," he says. "But I would sell them damaged to people, and then I had a body shop, and we'd fix it at the building next door.”

Those buyers understood exactly what they were purchasing and often ended up with affordable transportation after repairs.

Alan notes that the key difference between a good salvage purchase and a bad one is simple: knowing exactly what damage occurred and how the repairs were done.

Most retail buyers, however, do not have that level of visibility.

Knowing the damage matters

Karl offers a good example from his own garage.

One of his cars carries a salvage title, but he knows exactly how the damage occurred:

“I got T-boned in a parking lot.”

Because he witnessed the accident and understands the repair history, evaluating the risk is far easier.

Most used-car buyers do not have that advantage.

That uncertainty is what makes salvage vehicles risky purchases.

How buyers can protect themselves

For consumers considering a salvage-title vehicle, research is essential.

Before buying, experts recommend:

Running a vehicle history report
Searching the VIN online for accident photos
Having the car inspected by a trusted mechanic
Confirming what repairs were performed and by whom

Without that information, the buyer is relying largely on trust.

And with modern vehicles packed with electronics, hidden damage can quickly turn a cheap purchase into an expensive repair bill.

The bottom line for drivers

Salvage-title vehicles exist in a gray area.

Some are repaired correctly and provide affordable transportation. Others hide structural or electrical damage that will lead to long-term reliability problems.

The lower price reflects that uncertainty.

For buyers who understand the risks and investigate the vehicle’s history carefully, a salvage car can occasionally make sense. But for most consumers shopping for dependable daily transportation, a clean-title vehicle with a documented history remains the safer choice.

To sum it up, the rule is simple: If you don’t know exactly why a car has a salvage title, you probably shouldn’t buy it.

Listen to the full episode of “The Drive with Lauren and Karl” (featuring Alan Taylor) below:

Stellantis just blew $26 billion on bad EV bet

Stellantis is facing a financial reckoning that should send a warning across the global auto industry.

After betting that the electric vehicle transition would move faster than consumers were ready to follow, the company is now reporting a staggering $26.3 billion net loss for 2025 — driven largely by roughly $30 billion in write-downs tied to scaling back parts of its EV strategy.

As recently as 2023, some workers received nearly $14,000 in profit-sharing payouts. This year, they received nothing.

For a company that was profitable just a year earlier, the reversal is dramatic. Stellantis’ experience highlights the risks of building product strategies around aggressive electrification timelines shaped by government policy and optimistic forecasts rather than actual consumer demand.

Stellantis, the Amsterdam-based automaker formed in 2021, oversees 14 brands, including Jeep, Dodge, Ram, Chrysler, Fiat, Alfa Romeo, Maserati, Peugeot, and Citroën. With that kind of global footprint, its strategic decisions ripple across workers, suppliers, investors — and ultimately car buyers.

Electric slide

The company’s 2025 financial results show how quickly those bets can unravel. Net revenue totaled $181.1 billion, down 2% from the previous year. But the real damage appears on the bottom line: a $26.3 billion net loss replacing what had been a $6.5 billion profit the year before. Free cash flow turned negative by roughly $4.9 billion. Dividends were suspended, and profit-sharing checks for UAW workers disappeared.

As recently as 2023, some workers received nearly $14,000 in profit-sharing payouts. This year, they received nothing. When automakers absorb losses of this scale, the financial pressure eventually spreads through the entire system — from employees and suppliers to vehicle pricing and investment decisions.

Chief Executive Officer Antonio Filosa acknowledged the miscalculation directly, saying the results reflect “the cost of over-estimating the pace of the energy transition.” That unusually candid admission reflects a broader reality across the auto sector: Automakers, regulators, and investors collectively assumed EV adoption would accelerate faster than consumers, charging infrastructure, affordability, and political support would allow.

'Dare' or truth

The roots of the problem trace back to Stellantis’ “Dare Forward 2030” strategy under former CEO Carlos Tavares. The company set ambitious goals: 100% EV sales in Europe and 50% EV sales in the United States by 2030. To reach those targets, Stellantis invested billions in EV platforms, battery supply chains, and factory conversions.

Those investments were encouraged — and in some cases effectively required — by government mandates and regulatory timelines. But the strategy assumed that consumers would move to EVs at roughly the same pace as policymakers hoped.

That assumption proved overly optimistic.

EV adoption has grown, but not at the pace many projections predicted during the peak of electric vehicle enthusiasm. High vehicle prices, uneven charging infrastructure, rising insurance costs, and concerns about resale value have slowed adoption. As those concerns mounted, both Europe and the United States began easing some regulatory pressure tied to EV mandates.

When policy expectations change, automakers are left adjusting billions of dollars in investments that were made under very different assumptions.

Misery loves company

Stellantis was not alone in this miscalculation. Across the industry, automakers have announced more than $55 billion in EV-related write-offs. Reporting from the Financial Times estimates the broader financial toll of scaling back electrification plans — including restructuring costs and canceled programs — has reached roughly $65 billion. Ford alone has taken about $19 billion in charges connected to its EV reset, while General Motors and Volkswagen have also booked major write-downs.

Even in that context, Stellantis’ losses stand out. The company recorded about $25.9 billion in one-time charges, including nearly $20 billion tied directly to electric-vehicle programs, along with roughly $4.8 billion in warranty costs and other restructuring expenses. Those charges reflect a broad reset of the company’s strategy as Stellantis scrapped certain electric and plug-in hybrid models, revised production plans, and shifted investment back toward internal combustion and hybrid vehicles.

Buyers wanted

For consumers, these strategic resets matter because powertrain choices shape vehicle availability and pricing.

In North America, one of the clearest signals of Stellantis’ shift is the return of the 5.7-liter HEMI V8 engine. That move reflects continued demand for traditional powertrains, especially in high-margin truck and performance segments where buyers prioritize capability, reliability, and price over electrification targets.

In Europe, Stellantis is folding diesel and mild-hybrid gasoline options back into several models. Instead of betting exclusively on battery electric vehicles, the company is moving toward a broader powertrain strategy that includes EVs, hybrids, gasoline, and diesel options.

That shift reflects what many consumers have been saying throughout the transition: They want choices that fit their budgets, driving habits, and infrastructure realities.

Chicago Tribune/Getty Images

Smooth travels ahead?

Despite the enormous write-downs, there are early signs of stabilization. During the second half of 2025, after Filosa began unwinding elements of the prior strategy, Stellantis reported approximately $93.3 billion in revenue for the July-December period, a 10% increase year over year. Vehicle shipments rose 11% during that timeframe.

The company still reported an adjusted operating loss of roughly $1.6 billion during that period, but improved shipment volumes suggest the recalibrated strategy may be gaining traction.

The crisis did not develop overnight. It grew from several assumptions: that EV demand would rise steadily, that battery costs would fall fast enough to make EVs profitable, and that regulatory pressure would remain constant.

Instead, the transition has proven far more uneven. EV sales remain heavily dependent on subsidies, battery supply chains still rely heavily on China, and charging infrastructure remains inconsistent across many markets. When incentives shrink or economic conditions tighten, EV demand can slow quickly.

Workers feel the pain

For workers, the consequences are immediate. Because Stellantis posted a loss, UAW employees will not receive profit-sharing payouts this year. Across the Detroit Three, the average payout is about $6,200 — roughly 40% lower than prior averages near $10,000. For Stellantis workers, the payout is zero.

The broader lesson is not that electric vehicles have no role in the future. They do, and EV technology will continue to evolve.

But the assumption that internal combustion engines would disappear rapidly now looks unrealistic. Consumers ultimately determine the pace of change, and their priorities remain clear: price, reliability, convenience, charging access, and resale value.

Filosa has framed Stellantis’ reset around restoring “freedom to choose” across electric, hybrid, gasoline, and diesel technologies. That message reflects a shift toward building vehicles that align with real-world consumer demand rather than political timelines.

The cost of the earlier miscalculation is now measured in tens of billions of dollars. Whether the reset ultimately strengthens Stellantis or simply marks the beginning of a smaller product lineup will depend on how effectively the company balances innovation with consumer priorities.

In the end, the lesson is simple. Automakers can design new technologies and governments can set policy goals, but consumers still decide what succeeds in the marketplace.

Affordable cars still exist — but Americans can't buy them

The auto industry is marketed as global — same brands, same badges, same hype. It’s easy to assume we’re all shopping from the same menu.

We’re not.

BYD has now surpassed Tesla in global EV sales — even though BYD sells none of those vehicles in the United States.

On the latest episode of “The Drive,” iSeeCars.com executive analyst and Forbes Autos contributor Karl Brauer and I sit down with automotive creator Al Vazquez, whose Spanish-language platform gives him a vantage point most U.S. journalists don’t have.

He covers cars for the American press like we do — but he’s also regularly flown to Latin America and other markets to drive vehicles, many of them Chinese-branded, that Americans will never see on a dealer lot.

What he’s seeing raises a practical question for buyers here at home: What happens when other markets are flooded with cheaper, rapidly improving vehicles — while American consumers face higher prices and fewer straightforward options?

Bargains head east

Because Al’s channel is in Spanish, his reach extends across Latin America and into Europe. That audience brings invitations: Bolivia, Argentina, Chile, the Dominican Republic, Costa Rica, Spain. And when he lands in those markets, he often finds himself driving cars unfamiliar to U.S. buyers.

A major reason: Chinese brands are no longer fringe players in many regions.

Al is blunt about the shift. Five to 10 years ago, he says, he would have dismissed many of these vehicles. Today he sees better interiors, stronger feature sets, and long warranties backing them up.

But the real story is price.

In several markets, buyers are offered vehicles that undercut U.S. pricing dramatically — sometimes at what he describes as “half the price” of comparable models here. Whether that pricing would survive U.S. regulatory and labor realities is another question. But for consumers abroad, the appeal is obvious: new-car affordability that hasn’t vanished.

That’s something American buyers increasingly struggle to find.

Redirecting competition

In the U.S., tariffs and dealer franchise laws make it difficult for Chinese automakers to sell directly here. But as Karl points out, barriers don’t eliminate competition — they redirect it.

If Chinese brands gain massive volume in Europe, South America, and elsewhere, they gain scale. Scale means supplier leverage, faster iteration, and more resources to improve product.

For American consumers, the implications are concrete:

If global competitors grow rapidly elsewhere, they get stronger — even without entering the U.S.
If the U.S. market remains more closed and more expensive, buyers here risk paying more while seeing less variety.

“Global competition” may sound abstract. But it shows up as pricing, features, and whether a truly affordable new car is even an option.

NurPhoto/Getty Images

Tesla or BVD?

We turn to Tesla, where reports suggest the Model S and Model X may be phased out amid slowing sales.

Al offers an international perspective. In places like Bolivia, he says, Tesla still signals status. Owning one means you’ve arrived. He also claims that Teslas sourced through China appear better assembled than some U.S.-market examples.

Karl widens the lens: BYD has now surpassed Tesla in global EV sales — even though BYD sells none of those vehicles in the United States. Meanwhile U.S. EV growth has cooled compared to earlier momentum.

For buyers, this is a lesson in how automakers respond to pressure. When margins tighten and competition intensifies, companies cut slower-selling models and redirect investment. The future shifts toward autonomy, AI, robotics, and software ecosystems.

Show and sell

Our conversation shifts to auto shows — Detroit, L.A., Chicago, New York — and whether they’re fading into irrelevance.

At their best, auto shows solve a real consumer problem: They let buyers compare multiple brands in one place, sit in vehicles without pressure, and evaluate options without a salesperson hovering nearby.

Al argues it’s a mistake to let that disappear. He points to Detroit’s recent rebound — smaller than its glory days, but active — and contrasts it with international shows that are still thriving. In Qatar, he says, the show was sold out with lines out the door.

Consumers increasingly delay visiting dealerships until they’ve narrowed their choices online. Auto shows provide something dealerships often can’t: a neutral comparison environment.

In an era obsessed with “experiential marketing,” there’s nothing more experiential than physically sitting in a dozen competing vehicles in a single afternoon.

Influencers or experts?

Al describes watching an influencer perform handstands in front of a Mustang — without mentioning the car itself.

It’s easy to roll your eyes, but it also illustrates the reality: Automakers now market vehicles through personality-driven content as much as traditional reporting.

Journalists report on the car. Influencers incorporate the car into their personal brand. Both models coexist.

For consumers, this shift changes the information landscape: more personality and less structured analysis.

This makes discernment more important. Buyers who want real trade-offs, cost analysis, and ownership implications still need to seek out sources focused on the vehicle — not just the vibe.

Fragmented markets

Al’s story is partly about media evolution — how a creator adapts from print to YouTube to TikTok and beyond. But the larger story is about fragmentation.

Some markets are getting cheaper new-car options faster than we are. Some brands are gaining global dominance without ever touching the U.S. Meanwhile American buyers face rising transaction prices, heavier regulation, and fewer places to comparison-shop freely.

The auto industry may be global, but your buying experience is still local — and increasingly shaped by forces that don’t always align with consumer affordability.

Listen to the full episode of “The Drive with Lauren and Karl” (featuring Al Vazquez) below:

No new cars under $50K? Thank the government

Americans are paying more for new vehicles — and it's not because of greedy dealers or temporary supply disruptions.

The real problem? The modern automobile has become a government-regulated platform.

This regulatory floor helps explain why many entry-level vehicles have disappeared. Automakers did not abandon affordable cars because Americans suddenly rejected them.

What once functioned primarily as personal transportation is now layered with federal mandates, compliance systems, and policy-driven technology. The cost of that transformation is embedded into every vehicle sold.

The average transaction price for a new vehicle now hovers around $48,000 to $50,000, according to Cox Automotive — nearly double what many Americans paid a decade ago. That figure is not driven primarily by dealership markups or consumer excess. It reflects a system in which regulatory requirements steadily raise the baseline cost of every vehicle before it reaches a showroom.

Dealers sell what they are allowed to sell. Consumers pay for what regulators require to be built.

Regulations stack

Unlike market innovation, federal mandates rarely replace older requirements. They stack. Safety rules, emissions standards, cybersecurity protocols, and connectivity requirements accumulate over time. Each new layer raises the minimum cost of building any vehicle, regardless of brand or segment.

Automakers no longer decide which technologies to include based solely on consumer demand. They build to regulatory specifications — and those specifications grow more complex every year.

Driver-assistance: No longer optional

Advanced driver-assistance systems are a clear example. Lane-keeping assist, automatic emergency braking, blind-spot monitoring, cameras, radar units, and onboard processors were once optional upgrades. Today most are standard across model lines due to evolving federal safety expectations and liability pressures.

These systems require sensors, software calibration, processors, and constant updates. They also increase repair costs. A recent study by AAA shows that vehicles equipped with advanced driver-assistance features can cost 20% to 40% more to repair after collisions, in part because sensors must be recalibrated or replaced.

Whether buyers want every feature is beside the point. The technology is built in.

Nicolò Campo/Bloomberg/Getty Images

Engineering complexity

Emissions regulations add another layer. Even gasoline-powered vehicles now rely on increasingly sophisticated emissions control systems, specialized materials, and complex software calibration to meet tightening federal and state standards.

These systems improve measurable compliance outcomes, but they also increase engineering complexity and production cost. Manufacturers cannot legally offer simplified alternatives that fall outside regulatory thresholds.

Computers on wheels

Modern vehicles are now rolling computer networks. Federal standards increasingly require data systems, cybersecurity protections, over-the-air update capability, and integrated monitoring infrastructure.

Hardware, antennas, processors, software validation, and compliance testing all add cost. None of it is optional at scale. Once these systems are embedded into vehicle architecture, they become permanent cost centers.

'Kill-switch' costs

One of the least discussed provisions of the federal Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act requires the installation of advanced driver monitoring systems designed to detect impairment in future vehicles. Critics have labeled this a “kill-switch” mandate because the rule requires technology capable of preventing operation under certain conditions.

Regardless of terminology, implementing such systems requires additional hardware, sensors, software integration, validation, and certification. Even before activation or enforcement details are finalized, the design and compliance costs are already being built into pricing structures.

When every manufacturer must comply, there is no competitive pressure to eliminate the expense.

Tariffs and supply chains

Tariffs compound the issue. Import duties on vehicles and automotive components affect not only foreign-built cars but also vehicles assembled in the United States that rely on global supply chains. Steel, aluminum, semiconductors, and specialized materials all move through international networks.

When tariffs raise component costs, those increases flow downstream. Automakers do not absorb them indefinitely. Dealers do not control them. Buyers ultimately pay.

Extinct entry-level

This regulatory floor helps explain why many entry-level vehicles have disappeared. Automakers did not abandon affordable cars because Americans suddenly rejected them. They exited those segments because compliance costs made lower-margin models difficult to sustain profitably.

When the baseline cost of meeting regulatory requirements approaches what buyers can reasonably pay for a basic vehicle, the product becomes economically unviable.

Shrinking used-car market

The used-car market offers limited relief. As new vehicles become more expensive, consumers hold onto existing cars longer. According to S&P Global Mobility, the average age of vehicles on American roads has climbed to nearly 13 years, an all-time high.

Fewer late-model trade-ins tighten supply. Prices rise. Regulatory-driven cost increases in the new-car market ripple outward and affect every segment.

EV expenses

Electric vehicles illustrate the same dynamic. Federal incentives, emissions targets, battery sourcing rules, and manufacturing credits shape production decisions and model availability. While battery costs have declined over time, compliance requirements and policy alignment continue to influence pricing and product mix.

For many households, the upfront cost of EVs remains significantly higher than comparable gasoline models — even after incentives.

Fixed costs

The expectation that prices will fall once supply stabilizes misunderstands how regulatory-cost structures function. Supply constraints can ease. Compliance costs rarely do.

As long as vehicles are treated as platforms for policy implementation rather than purely consumer goods, the floor price will continue to rise.

High vehicle prices are not simply a market fluctuation. They are, to a significant degree, a policy outcome.

And until policymakers reckon with the cumulative cost of regulatory layering, the $50,000 vehicle will increasingly become the norm — not the exception.

Start-stop stiffed: EPA kills annoying automatic engine shutoff

The EPA just delivered news that millions of fed-up American drivers have been waiting for: Automatic start-stop technology is no longer being propped up by federal regulation.

On February 12, 2026, President Donald Trump and EPA Administrator Lee Zeldin announced what the administration is calling the largest deregulatory action in U.S. history. The move scraps the Obama-era 2009 greenhouse gas endangerment finding and wipes out federal greenhouse-gas standards for vehicles dating back to model year 2012.

‘Mechanically, it’s a disaster waiting to happen. Constant restarts accelerate wear on starter motors — even reinforced ones.’

For everyday drivers, the practical consequence is simple and satisfying: The regulatory credits that encouraged automakers to jam start-stop systems into vehicles are gone.

‘Universally hated’

Zeldin didn’t mince words, calling start-stop an “almost universally hated” feature — an “Obama switch” that makes your engine shut off at every red light. Trump echoed the sentiment, blasting the policy as a regulatory disaster that drove up prices and forced unwanted technology on consumers. Even the EPA’s own announcement acknowledged what drivers have been saying for years: A feature that kills your engine at stops and jolts it awake again was never embraced voluntarily — it was incentivized.

For years, automakers chased roughly a 1-mile-per-gallon compliance credit tied to start-stop systems. On paper, it helped meet greenhouse-gas targets. In the real world, the fuel savings were often negligible outside of ideal lab conditions. Still, the feature spread everywhere — from sedans to SUVs to trucks — not because buyers demanded it, but because it was the cheapest way to check a regulatory box.

Consumers got the irritation. Automakers got the credit.

‘Disaster waiting to happen’

I asked ASE Master Technician Greg Damon what start-stop really does under the hood. His answer was blunt:

Mechanically, it’s a disaster waiting to happen. Constant restarts accelerate wear on starter motors — even reinforced ones. Batteries cycle harder and require more expensive replacements. Engine components face repeated stress, especially during warm restarts when lubrication isn’t instantaneous. In shops, mechanics see higher failure rates, specialized repairs, and higher bills. All of that complexity and cost to chase a single MPG on a spreadsheet.

Is 1 MPG worth higher sticker prices, increased maintenance costs, and shorter component life?

Drivers have already answered that question. Many disable the system every time they start the car — if the manufacturer even allows it. Some vehicles require a ritual button press; others hide any permanent shutoff entirely. Subaru owners, in particular, have flooded forums with complaints about hesitation and drivability issues. Reviews and social media tell the same story: This isn’t progress. It’s punishment.

VCG/Getty Images

No incentive

After the ruling, I contacted major automakers. Their responses were identical — carefully scripted statements saying they would “review their strategy” if regulations changed. Well, the regulations have changed. Loudly. Publicly. And without ambiguity. With compliance credits vaporized, the financial incentive disappears. Expect manufacturers to quietly phase out start-stop or finally offer true, set-it-and-forget-it disable options.

The broader implications are enormous. The Trump administration projects more than $1.3 trillion in total regulatory relief, with per-vehicle compliance costs dropping by an estimated $2,400. Lower vehicle prices ripple through the entire economy. As Zeldin put it, the move restores consumer choice and eases cost-of-living pressure by removing mandates that distorted the market.

Other Clean Air Act rules governing traditional tailpipe pollutants remain in place. Emissions are not unregulated. What died here is the prescriptive, heavy-handed system that rewarded gimmicks like start-stop instead of genuine engineering improvements. Automakers now have room to pursue real efficiency — better engines, smarter hybrids, lighter materials, and improved aerodynamics — without sacrificing reliability or driver satisfaction.

Win for aftermarket

The automotive aftermarket wins too. An industry supporting more than 330,000 American jobs can breathe easier without constant compliance pressure steering vehicles away from serviceable, long-term ownership.

This is a win for common sense. Start-stop survived because Washington subsidized it, not because Americans wanted it. Without regulatory crutches, the feature faces the only test that matters: voluntary consumer demand. And the answer has always been clear.

If you’ve ever muttered under your breath at a red light while your engine shut off — then lurched back to life — this one’s for you. The era of government-mandated automotive irritation just took a fatal hit.

Why are modern car headlights so blindingly bright?

Bright headlights have become a genuine safety issue for American drivers. Complaints about being blinded by oncoming vehicles are now commonplace, cutting across age groups, vehicle types, and driving environments.

For most of automotive history, safety innovations followed a clear principle: improve visibility without creating new risks. Today’s headlight crisis shows how far that balance has drifted. What began as a push for better nighttime illumination has turned into a widespread hazard — one driven not by reckless drivers or faulty equipment, but by outdated regulations and incentives that reward brightness without restraint.

A headlight that improves visibility for one vehicle can simultaneously degrade safety for everyone else.

Modern LED headlights are far brighter than anything federal regulators envisioned when lighting standards were written decades ago. As frustration grows, an uncomfortable truth is becoming clear: This problem is not a technological failure. It is the predictable result of rules that no longer reflect how vehicles are designed, tested, or driven.

Glaring data

Data backs up what drivers have experienced firsthand. The Insurance Institute for Highway Safety reports that average headlight brightness has roughly doubled over the past decade. Complaints submitted to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration increasingly describe glare so intense that it causes eye strain, headaches, and momentary loss of visual clarity. These reports come from drivers of all ages, in both older vehicles and brand-new ones, on city streets and rural highways alike.

The increase is not subtle. Traditional halogen headlights typically produced around 1,000 lumens. Many factory-installed LED systems now produce 3,000 to 4,000 lumens, while some aftermarket lights exceed 10,000 lumens — levels that would have been unthinkable when federal headlamp standards were last meaningfully updated.

At the center of the issue is Federal Motor Vehicle Safety Standard No. 108, which governs automotive lighting. Much of this regulation dates to the 1980s, when lighting technology was limited by the physical constraints of halogen bulbs. Brightness was naturally capped, so strict numerical limits were unnecessary. That assumption no longer holds.

Outdated standards

LED technology fundamentally changed how light is generated and controlled. LEDs can produce intense illumination using little power, and their output can be shaped and focused with remarkable precision. Yet instead of setting modern limits on overall brightness, federal standards still rely on beam-pattern measurements designed for older technology. As long as light output stays below certain thresholds in specific test zones, overall brightness can rise dramatically elsewhere.

Automakers have learned to design within these boundaries. By carefully shaping beams and managing shaded areas during compliance testing, manufacturers can produce headlights that are technically legal while delivering far more light on the road. This is not a violation of the law — it is the predictable exploitation of a regulatory framework that no longer matches reality.

Safety worst

Safety ratings have unintentionally made the problem worse. Headlight performance plays a significant role in evaluations by organizations such as the IIHS. Brighter headlights often score higher in controlled tests that measure forward visibility distance, giving automakers strong incentives to push brightness ever higher for better ratings and stronger marketing claims.

What these tests often fail to capture is glare’s impact on other drivers. A headlight that improves visibility for one vehicle can simultaneously degrade safety for everyone else. Current regulations and rating systems rarely account for this trade-off, allowing brightness gains to be celebrated without serious scrutiny of their broader consequences.

Vehicle design trends amplify the issue further. Modern trucks and SUVs sit higher than previous generations, placing headlights closer to eye level for drivers in sedans and smaller cars. Even properly aimed headlights can become overwhelming when mounted higher off the ground, particularly on uneven pavement or during braking and acceleration. Federal standards offer limited guidance on how brightness and mounting height interact in real-world conditions.

CBS/Getty Images

Spotlight on adaptive tech

Adaptive driving beam technology is often cited as the solution — and it does hold promise. These systems can dynamically adjust light patterns to reduce glare for oncoming traffic while preserving illumination elsewhere. But adaptive headlights were only approved in the United States in 2022, long after they became common in Europe and Asia. Adoption remains limited, mostly confined to higher-end vehicles, and performance varies widely depending on sensors, software, and calibration.

Even with adaptive systems, the absence of a clear federal cap on brightness remains a fundamental flaw. Technology can mitigate glare, but it cannot replace modern standards that reflect real-world driving conditions.

The safety implications are serious. Night driving already carries higher risk due to reduced visibility and fatigue. Excessive glare increases reaction times, reduces contrast sensitivity, and impairs depth perception. For older drivers and those with vision conditions such as astigmatism, the effects are magnified. These are not minor inconveniences — they are factors that directly influence crash risk.

Minimal response

Despite growing evidence and public concern, regulatory response has been minimal. The last major federal investigation into headlamp glare occurred in 2003, before LEDs became dominant. Since then, vehicle lighting has changed dramatically, but the rules governing it have not.

This is not an argument against innovation. LEDs offer real benefits, including efficiency, durability, and the potential for smarter lighting systems. The problem is not brightness itself, but the lack of modern oversight to ensure that brightness improves safety without creating new hazards.

Updating standards would not require rolling back technology or limiting consumer choice. It would mean establishing meaningful brightness limits, accounting for vehicle height and beam placement, and ensuring that adaptive systems meet consistent performance benchmarks. Most importantly, it would recognize that safety on public roads is shared — not something that can be optimized for one driver at the expense of others.

Until that happens, drivers will keep adapting on their own. Some will avoid driving at night. Others will install even brighter aftermarket lights, escalating a cycle that benefits no one. Many will simply accept discomfort as the cost of modern driving, unaware that it is neither inevitable nor necessary.

The technology to fix this problem already exists. What’s missing is regulatory urgency. As headlights continue to grow brighter, the gap between legal compliance and real-world safety widens. Closing that gap is essential if we want innovation to serve safety — rather than undermine it.