Hi, I'm Lauren Fix, longtime automotive journalist and a member of the Society of Automotive Engineers. Welcome back to "Quick Fix," where I answer car-related questions you submit to me. Today's question comes from Don in Longmont, Colorado.

Dear Lauren:

My 2008 Toyota Tundra has a 5.7 liter engine, and I bought it new in 2008. The specs say the gas tank is 26 gallons, however, I've never been able to put more than 22 gallons in it, even when the gas gauge reads empty or E.

Some have said Toyota does this on purpose to keep you from running out, or keep the fuel pump covered to keep it cool, or maybe the gauge is just off. What do you think?

I think you're on the right track, Don. You do not want your car to run out of gas completely — and not just because you'll be stuck somewhere.

Let's get into it in the video below:

Got a car-related question? Email me at getquickfix@pm.me.

Grass-fed steaks, unprocessed salt, and more chemical-free picks from the Solarium

Note: The product recommendations that Align publishes are meant solely to inform and edify our subscribers; unless explicitly labeled as such, they are neither paid promotions or endorsements.

Strolling the grocery store today can be like entering a mental war zone — especially when I have to step outside the fresh produce periphery and into the processed food interior. There, reading ominously extensive ingredient labels often finds me leaving without the item I wanted.

I'm not a nutritionist or "health expert." I'm a filmmaker and a mother simply trying to make sensible, healthy purchases in a culture that seems determined to dose us with chemicals at every turn. And yet sometimes I wonder if I'm on the verge of becoming Julianne Moore's character in "Safe."

You have to be very, very strong and diligent to stay the course, for yourself and your family. But it pays off.

To make it easier, I created the Solarium, which curates trusted, third-party-tested foods, clothing, beauty products, and more — all free of seed oils, sulfates, phthalates, parabens, plastics, fluoride, retardants, endocrine disruptors, synthetic fragrances, artificial coloring, alcohols, carcinogens, and other harmful additives.

Here are some of the products we've been enjoying lately.

Organic dried mango from Magone's

One of my greatest food pleasures is dried mango. The ones from Mangone's are still juicy and bursting with taste. Highly recommended. Take 12% off with promo code TheSolarium.

Pungao Vital Nectar

Pungao is an all-natural, honey-based energy enhancer and supplement. Not just for athletes, the ingredients in Pungao help nourish and energize your body with clean sugars, hydrating salt, and stimulating cinnamon and guarana. Take 10% off with promo code TheSolarium.

Sport Drink

An electrolyte-rich powder made with organic fruits, real sugar, and zero food dyes or chemicals. As simple and effective as its name, Sport Drink aims to provide a trusted hydration alternative to the neon-colored, chemical-laden mainstream brands. Take 10% off with promo code TheSolarium.

Kindred Harvest teas

Organic, whole-leaf tea without micro-plastics, glue, or heavy metals; blended, tested, and packed in the USA. Comes in black, green, hibiscus, and more.

Raw Royal Jelly

Bees are magical creatures: In addition to honey, they give us royal jelly, which encourages muscle and bone growth, boosts stamina, libido, and fertility, and helps prevent cancer. Take 10% off with promo code TheSolarium.

Masa Chips

Masa Chips use 3 simple ingredients: organic corn, 100% grass-fed beef tallow, and sea salt. So simple yet so hard to find chips made without seed oils, pesticides, or preservatives.

Jake Steaks

Grass-fed and -finished beef direct from the farmers to your front door. The cows are raised and finished on a variety of native grass. They are entirely pasture fed — zero corn or grain. Let Jake know the Solarium sent you.

Honey from Busy Bee Candle Co.

Busy Bee's "use the whole animal" mentality means it doesn't stop at clean, purifying beeswax candles; it also sells raw, untreated wildflower honey. Just as beeswax makes the perfect candles, honey is the perfect sugar — packed with incredible health benefits. Take 15% off with promo code TheSolarium.

Greco Gum

If you are going to chew gum, chew a natural, plastic-free gum that simultaneously builds your jaw muscles, assists digestion, and potentially prevents oral cancer. 100% crystallized resin, made by nature in Chios, Greece. First-time customers take 10% off with promo code TheSolarium.

Vera Salt

Hand-harvested, natural spring salt from Spain. Not processed or bleached, leaving its mineral content — potassium, magnesium, and calcium — intact.

Oliva Dorado

Olives farmed, harvested, cold-pressed, and bottled on-site at a single estate in northern Spain to create a 100% authentic extra virgin olive oil. No synthetic pesticides or chemical fertilizer ever used.

Kraut Krackers

A nutrient-packed cracker made from wild-fermented sauerkraut, dehydrated at low temperature. All from four simple ingredients: organic purple cabbage, organic red beet, organic golden flax seeds, and pink Himalayan salt. Made in the USA.

Forget service with a smile — these days I'd settle for service from a human

After a week of dealing with service calls to my internet company and having to go to many more stores than usual, I suspect there’s a coordinated campaign to prevent humans from talking to each other.

I’m not entirely kidding. Have you noticed, especially since the “pandemic,” that it’s becoming the new-normal to be stopped from speaking to other people? We’re now directed to “interface” with machines. It happens on the phone, at gas stations, at grocery stores, at restaurants.

There’s something so off about walking up to the register while one lone employee stands in front of the cigarette case and monitors you while you do his job.

Have you been handed a piece of paper with a QR code on it when you’re seated at a restaurant and told to “scan this for the menu”? Have you been told (not “asked”) to scan your own groceries, bag them, and punch your payment into the register?

How about the robotic phone tree lady that prevents you from speaking to a person at the gas company, the bank, or any other business you call?

Phoning it in

People have been complaining about the decline in customer service since at least as far back as the 1980s. The worst of it was the then-recently invented phone tree.

Phone trees have always been irritating, but they’re out of control now: There is no human staffed department to which you can be directed. Worse, companies deliberately restrict the subjects you can “ask” about by leaving them off the menu options, and the systems hang up on you if you try to get a human agent.

It’s getting infinitely worse with the overnight adoption of shiny, glittery-new AI technology. In the past month, I finally stopped doing business with my old internet company — a huge multinational company that you have heard of and not in fond terms — because it has programmed its AI “customer service rep” to blatantly refuse to connect customers with a human.

Call waiting (and waiting)

Here’s how these online chats go:

AI agent: Please choose from billing, technical support, or new sales.

Me: Need more options. Need agent.

AI: Please choose from billing, technical support, or new sales.

Me: Agent.

AI: I’m sorry, please choose from ...

Me: Agent! I need an agent! My question is not listed!

AI: I’m sorry, but I cannot connect you to an agent until you follow the suggested steps above. Goodbye.

And then the chat window closes, or the call disconnects.

Yes, I’m serious. The robots now brazenly hang up on you if you don’t obey their commands. How did customers suddenly end up having to take orders from company devices instead of the other way around?

Inconvenience store

It’s no better in person, and I’m sorry to say that human behavior is just as bad as robotic misconduct. This week, I needed a five-gallon jug of kerosene. I heat and light my home in cold weather with restored antique kerosene lamps. These aren’t the small "Little House on the Prairie" oil lamps you’re thinking of; they’re big thirsty bad boys that put out major light and heat.

So I go to the farm store, where they sell kerosene in large jugs at 40% less than other stores. When I walk over to the shelf, there’s nothing there. Damn. Now, I have to weigh whether or not to talk to a staff member.

Fifteen years ago, this wasn’t a hard decision — in fact, it wasn’t a decision at all. But today? The most common response I get from store staff when asking for help is a facial expression that communicates irritation and an attitude meant to express, “You, customer, are inconveniencing me.”

It’s most pronounced in anyone under 40, as Millennials and Gen Zers were not taught things like “doing your job” or “not being awful to the people who pay your wage through their customers.”

I chance it and ask the frazzled 22-year-old at the register. He won’t make eye contact with me, of course. “Hi there. I see that the kerosene isn’t in its usual spot. Could you please tell me if you have it in stock, or when you will have it in stock again?”

Without looking at me, he replies, “I don’t know.” What am I supposed to say to this? Wouldn’t you take that as another way of saying, “I’m not going to answer your question, and I want you to go away?”

So I say, “Right. Could you please tell me who might know or how I will be able to find out whether I will be able to buy kerosene here and when that might be?”

Annoyed, the cashier makes an exasperated noise and says, “They don’t tell us what’s coming on the truck. All I know is that it comes on Tuesdays and Thursdays — check back then.”

When I worked retail, had my boss observed me speak to a patron like this, I would have been fired on the spot.

No talking

My last stop on this outing is to grab some lunch. There’s a brand-new gas station/convenience store/truck stop that just opened two miles up the road from where I live in Vermont. It’s sort of like a northern version of the famous Bucc-ee’s truck stop “malls” you see in the South. You can get hot and cold food, soft drinks, beer, liquor, small electronics accessories, motor oil, and toys to keep the kids quiet.

Sadly, “make the customer do the store’s job” has metastasized to the corner store, too.

This place is all self-checkout. There’s something so off about walking up to the register, while one lone employee stands in front of the cigarette case and monitors you while you do his job. There’s no etiquette for it. The employees don’t greet you, leaving you wondering if they’re afraid you’ll ask them to do something if they signal that they’re aware of your presence.

I am prepared for that. I am not prepared for having to do the same thing for a sandwich.

I stand at the deli counter for about two minutes, while two employees stand behind the counter 20 feet away chatting with each other as if I were not there. Then, it dawns on me. There is that bank of iPads blazing out saturated color. I, the customer, am forced to punch a touchscreen on the machine to put in my order. There is to be no talking to other humans.

The device has every annoyance, starting with the fact that the customer is forced to learn a new, company-bespoke set of “buttons” and software, adding frustration and time to what ought to be a simple request.

Employees won’t talk to you, of course, even when they know you’re having trouble. After finally (I think) placing my order, dramatic pipe organ music starts blaring from a hidden speaker. It’s playing a plagal cadence, the part at the end of a church hymn that goes “aaaaa-men.” Apparently, this signals that one’s order has been sent to St. Peter and will be delivered shortly.

The younger of the two counter staffers looks at me briefly while the fanfare echoes against the tile walls. I say, “Am I allowed to talk to you?”

She just stares at me.

Francis was my pope, right or wrong

On Monday, April 21, Pope Francis passed away at his residence in the Vatican.

Formerly the Cardinal Archbishop of Buenos Aires, Jorge Mario Bergoglio ascended to the papal throne on March 13, 2013. He took the name Francis after St. Francis of Assisi, the medieval founder of the Franciscan Order. Francis’s reign as supreme pontif lasted 12 years.

The Catholic Church is far older than the liberal notion of egalitarianism, just as it is far older than the modern conception of a political 'left' and 'right.'

Before we move on to speculating about the next pope, I think it is appropriate to reflect on Pope Francis and the nature of his office.

A hard time for traditionalists

As an American conservative and a traditionalist Catholic, I asked myself how I felt inclined to reflect on the legacy of a pope regarded by many in my circles to have been a staunch liberal.

Pope Francis’ reign — particularly the last four years — was a hard time for my community. I grew up attending the Traditional Latin Mass. My love for the traditional Mass and Sacraments was a deciding factor in my decision to abandon my career plans and spend a year in seminary discerning the priesthood.

When Francis imposed severe restrictions on the celebration of the Latin Mass, I was, like many others, deeply hurt. Many of my friends and fellow community members felt that the Holy Father had joined the outside world in persecuting faithful Catholics who were drawn to the ancient liturgies of our ancestors.

Unquestioned loyalty

I agreed with them. I felt (and still feel) that the Vatican chose mistakenly and unfairly to persecute some of the most faithful, devoted communities in the Church. I also agreed with them that these persecutions — no matter how severe they might become — would never cause us to question our obedience and loyalty to the pope responsible for them.

Similarly, my disagreements with Pope Francis on political issues such as mass migration, capital punishment, incarceration, policies surrounding COVID-19, and his openness to globalism (to say nothing of the more Catholic insider issues such as fiducia supplicans and fratelli tutti) never caused me to question my obedience to him.

I loved Pope Francis as a son loves his father, and I never questioned my fidelity and loyalty to him as pope. The reasons for this loyalty are very simple: I am a Catholic, and he was the pope. No other reason is needed.

Beyond left and right

For a Catholic, his relationship to the pope and to the Church is in no way contingent upon the modern concepts of left and right, liberal and conservative. It is far more integral to his person than such labels can possibly be.

It does not surprise me that this sort of relationship seems odd to many people. In this country, we tend to have an egalitarian view of leadership. We believe (rightly, in the case of the United State government) that our leaders represent us; they work for us. If they act badly or make a mistake, they ought to be criticized or ridiculed in the same way anyone else would be.

The Catholic Church is far older than the liberal notion of egalitarianism, just as it is far older than the modern conception of a political “left” and “right.”

Christ's man on Earth

Our populist view of government simply does not apply to the papacy. The pope does not represent us; he represents Christ. He does not work for us; he works for God. To allow our loyalty to a pope to be determined by the alignment of his political views with our own is to treat God as our elected representative.

The office of the pope as Vicar of Christ does not mean, of course, that Catholics cannot voice concerns or offer respectful critiques of a pope. For a Catholic, such concerns or criticisms must always be respectful and coming from a place of charity toward the person of the pope and concern for the well-being of the Church. The pope’s role means that he must be obeyed and respected, but it does not mean that he does not make mistakes. He is human, after all.

'Knavish imbecility'

The Church has never claimed that its servants are faultless. Many leaders — and even popes — in the history of the Church have made mistakes and behaved badly. To point out such behavior is entirely appropriate, but to claim that a bad pope disproves the claims of the Church is akin to claiming the U.S. Constitution cannot be a workable system of government because Woodrow Wilson was a terrible president.

Hilaire Belloc summed up the matter well when he wrote, “The Catholic Church is an institution I am bound to hold divine, but for unbelievers, a proof of its divinity might be found in the fact that no merely human institution conducted with such knavish imbecility would have lasted a fortnight.”

For Catholics, our relationship to our Holy Father goes far beyond the policies we may or may not agree on, just as our Church goes far beyond our political alignment with those in the pews around us.

To a Catholic, our Church is the one true Christian religion. Our membership in it is just as much a part of us as our arms and legs. Such is our loyalty to the Holy Father.

Whatever we may think of him, however he may treat us, we know that Christ, who founded our Church, remains with us, “Even to the consummation of the world.” Taking the advice of St. Padre Pio, American Catholic conservatives such as myself will pray, we will hope, and we will not worry.

AM radio still saves lives — but will automakers listen?

Your new car has all the usual shiny new entertainment tech, but you're in the mood for an old favorite. You skip past the buttons for satellite radio and Bluetooth connectivity to tune in to your ever-reliable source of news, sports, and even lifesaving alerts in a crisis.

That's when it hits you: There's no AM radio.

Think back to the 1960s, when seatbelts weren’t standard. Automakers fought mandates then, too, calling them costly and unnecessary — until lives saved proved them wrong.

As I've reported here before, carmakers like Tesla, Ford, and BMW have been quietly dropping in-vehicle AM radios for years, claiming it's no longer practical or financially viable to include it.

But don't turn that dial just yet.

Poor reception

The AM Radio for Every Vehicle Act is heading toward a Senate vote after clearing the Commerce Committee back on February 5. With bipartisan support and an endorsement from FCC Chairman Brendan Carr, this bill could ensure that AM radio stays in every new car.

But why is this even a fight?

It starts with cost. Adding an AM receiver might only run a few dollars per vehicle, but multiply that by millions of cars and it’s a hit to the bottom line.

Then there’s the tech angle — electric vehicles dominate the future (for now), and AM signals can get scrambled by the electromagnetic hum of EV batteries and motors, creating annoying static.

Plus, with dashboards turning into touchscreens and younger buyers streaming music or podcasts via Bluetooth, they argue that AM is outdated and unnecessary.

Automakers would rather upsell you on satellite radio subscriptions or internet-connected infotainment systems — options that pad their profits but leave you without an AM signal when you want or need it.

The trouble is that rural roads and disaster zones don’t care about your Wi-Fi plan, and that’s where AM comes in.

Last resort

I’ve been tracking this on Congress.gov. Senate Bill 315 moved out of committee for a floor vote this month. It’s described as a push “to require the Secretary of Transportation to issue a rule ensuring access to AM broadcast stations in passenger motor vehicles.”

If passed, it would mandate that the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration to require automakers to include AM radio in all vehicles sold in the U.S. — at no extra cost. Until that rule kicks in, any cars without it must be clearly labeled.

The National Association of Broadcasters cheered the progress, pointing to disasters like the Los Angeles wildfires and Hurricane Helene, where AM’s reach delivered evacuation orders and recovery info when cell networks crumbled. Over 125 groups, from the American Farm Bureau to the AARP, back it, citing safety and community access.

Senators Edward J. Markey (D-Mass.) and Ted Cruz (R-Texas) of the Commerce Committee teamed up across the aisle, saying, “Today’s vote broadcasts a clear message to car manufacturers that AM radio is an essential tool for millions. From emergency response to entertainment and news, it’s a lifeline we must protect.”

FCC Chairman Brendan Carr added, “I saw it firsthand after Hurricane Helene — people relied on AM for lifesaving updates when everything else was down. Unlike streaming apps that need a signal or a subscription, AM is free, far-reaching, and works when nothing else does.”

Audio seatbelt

This bill is bigger than just radios — it’s about innovation, safety, and government’s role in the auto industry. Think back to the 1960s when seatbelts weren’t standard. Automakers fought mandates then, too, calling them costly and unnecessary — until lives saved proved them wrong. Today, AM radio is the seatbelt of communication: low-tech, sure, but a proven lifesaver.

If it passes the Senate, it could set a precedent for regulators to prioritize public good over corporate trends, maybe even nudging carmakers to rethink other cuts — like physical buttons that were swapped for slow screens.

It’s a signal that tech’s march forward doesn’t have to leave reliability behind, especially as disasters make resilient tools more crucial than ever.

Static from lobbyists

Unfortunately, this bill has some hurdles to get over. Automakers aren’t accepting this quietly; they’ve got deep pockets and powerful lobbyists, and groups like the Alliance for Automotive Innovation could lean on senators to water it down or kill it. They might argue it’s unfair to force a feature not every buyer wants or that EVs need exemptions for technical reasons.

Then there’s the Senate itself — gridlock is normal, and with budget battles and post-election-year posturing, a floor vote could easily be delayed. Even supporters admit it’s faced delays before; earlier versions never passed in Congress despite broad support. The difference now? High-profile disasters and bipartisan unity might just tip the scales.

AM remains the backbone of the Emergency Alert System, a resilient lifeline delivering local news, diverse voices, and critical info when it counts. Now that this bill’s racing through, it’s a sign that it could soon be law — unless the opposition shifts gears.

Fine-print fiasco: More carmakers charging subscription fees for once-free features

Hey, automakers: Enough with the upsells!

According to a new survey, most drivers are fed up with being asked to pay subscription fees for features such as heated seats or remote start that are already built into their cars.

Automakers argue that it’s about safety or innovation, but locking horsepower behind a $1,200 Mercedes paywall feels more like a shakedown.

This is a loud signal to brands like BMW, Ford, and GM. Are drivers done with the constant upsells, or could subscriptions still find a sweet spot? Here’s why consumers aren’t buying it, what automakers are missing, and how it shapes your next ride.

Missed connections

For its 2025 State of Connected Car Apps report, Smartcar (no relation to to Mercedes-Benz-owned Smart brand vehicles) polled over 1,000 drivers across the U.S. and Europe.

The findings: 76% won’t touch automakers’ connected services, free or paid.

Take Ford’s BlueCruise hands-free driving, for example: $495 a year after a 90-day trial. Or Mercedes’ $1,200 annual horsepower boost for EQ electric models. Even Toyota’s $8 monthly remote start fee.

After years of free trials and upsells, drivers surveyed in 2025 hit a tipping point. These features no longer feel optional but predatory. Yet 56% happily use third-party apps like Waze, which deliver real-time traffic data without fees.

Of the 24% who do subscribe, it’s nearly even: 49% pay, 51% get it free with the car. Meanwhile, 40% of drivers don’t even realize these services exist in their vehicles.

Hitting a wall

Automakers expect 96% of new cars to be “connected” by 2030 — Wi-Fi, apps, the works — but with three-quarters opting out, their strategy’s hitting a wall.

The resistance comes down to a few key issues. Subscription fatigue is real. Between streaming services and daily expenses, adding car fees feels like a breaking point. BMW’s 2022 attempt to charge for heated seats sparked outrage, and Smartcar’s data backs it up: 77% see these as pure profit plays, while 69% would switch brands to avoid paywalled features.

Imagine buying a $40,000 car, only to find the full stereo locked behind a $150 annual fee. It’s a hard pass for most.

Value is another sticking point. Cox Automotive’s 2023 survey showed 53% might accept subscriptions if they cut the car’s up-front cost, but back then, only 21% even knew the idea existed. By 2025, awareness has grown, but appeal has shrunk. AutoPacific data reveals EV buyers are slightly more open — 23% would subscribe — compared to 16% for gas cars.

Still, that’s a small group. Drivers want solutions, not revenue streams for manufacturers.

Privacy adds a darker layer. Mozilla’s 2024 report gave all 25 major automakers a failing grade on security standards. Cars track speed, braking, even phone contacts if synced, sharing it with manufacturers, insurers, and third parties.

Data sent to insurers can raise premiums based on hard braking or late-night drives, a reality that GM drivers faced in 2024 when habits were shared with LexisNexis without clear consent. Kaspersky’s 2024 survey found 72% of U.S. drivers reject this tracking, and 71% would opt for older cars to escape it.

Automakers argue that it’s about safety or innovation, but locking horsepower behind a $1,200 Mercedes paywall feels more like a shakedown. That explains the overwhelming pushback.

Cash cow

These companies are chasing big numbers. McKinsey forecasts $300-$400 billion in autonomous driving revenue by 2035, with subscriptions as a cash cow.

Tesla’s Full Self-Driving costs $12,000 up front or $200 monthly, while GM’s Super Cruise is $25 a month after three free years. Over-the-air updates unlock hardware already installed, like BMW’s heated seats. Cox Automotive found 65% like short-term trials, but 49% would keep cars longer if features didn’t vanish behind paywalls later.

There’s a glimmer of hope for manufacturers. Smartcar notes that only 11% are fully against subscriptions. Half would use more if prices dropped, say $5 a month instead of $50. Volvo cut its Care program from $1,800 to $775 for some models after pushback.

Value proposition

Brands like Subaru offer free Starlink safety alerts — crash detection and SOS calls — proving subscriptions can win fans when they prioritize drivers over profits. Navigation that outshines Google Maps or alerts that prevent collisions could shift the tide.

Basics like heated seats or stereo features are a different story. If those are locked, many would walk away. Used cars offer an out: 71% of Kaspersky’s drivers are eyeing older models to sidestep this trend.

The Smartcar report highlights a disconnect: 76% of drivers are drawing a line. Automakers have a chance to pivot, but it’s on them to prove subscriptions aren’t just another fee. Would you pay for these features, or is it a deal-breaker? Your take matters.

I never talk to liberals. Every so often I need to remind myself why.

I never talk to liberals.

That may be a bit of an exaggeration. I do talk to liberals. I know extended family members who are liberals. I go to the store, and I am sure some of the people I talk with are liberals.

I genuinely forget that there are people who still believe in 'the wage gap.' It’s insane.

But I don’t talk politics with liberals. I don’t work with liberals. I don’t suffer under a deranged HR regime whose raison d’être is making sure no employee even considers thinking some politically subversive thought that may, God forbid, go against prevailing liberal orthodoxy.

A quiet place

I live in a nice little town on Lake Michigan and it’s about 50% liberal, but they aren’t really so crazy or kooky. They are fine. People in this area of the state are pretty polite, so these liberals are just other people on the street. They aren’t in my face. I don’t live my life under a liberal framework, muzzling my every thought so I don’t offend the people around me.

I’ve been on the right almost my entire adult life. I don’t have a secret political identity that I need to guard so that I am not socially ostracized or left without a job. My kids are homeschooled, so we aren’t forced to interface with the general population or current brainwashing program of a public school. I’m just not really around liberals that much. I spend my days basking enjoyably in the conservative discourse. It’s very nice.

I live and work in the conservative world. All the debates I am involved with are intra-conservative ones. All the intellectual work I do in my mind is under the presumption of a conservative worldview. All the critique I feel or find myself discussing with others is critique of our own side. They are questions we are working out together so that we can be stronger. Intellectual teamwork. The liberals are just “the other side” or “those people over there,” and I don’t really devote any of my time considering what they are doing.

Picking my battles

I have to say my isolation from liberals has a positive impact on my mental health. It’s not only because I don’t have to deal with navigating the ever-changing labyrinth that is the progressive code of right and wrong. It’s because all my professional and personal efforts go toward helping strengthen our side. I don’t waste any intellectual firepower engaging with lost causes. It’s enriching to know your work builds.

While it’s very nice and I would never trade my position with anyone, I am certainly not champing at the bit to swim in the waters of modern liberalism. I am aware that I have some emotional blind spots due to my professional isolation from liberals.

Reality checks

Sometimes I forget just how insane things are over there. I genuinely forget that there are people who still believe in “the wage gap.” It’s insane. Every once in a while I will wade into the waters or hear a story, and it smacks me in the face.

“Wait, are you kidding me? These people really believe this? They really do?”

“Oh yeah, they do.”

I forget just how widespread the insane delusions are over there. I lose sight of just how deep the far-left creep has penetrated.

Of course I know it intellectually, but I don’t feel it. I can tell that sometimes in the back of my mind, I am referring to my conservative Democrat parents of 2003 and thinking they are somehow representative of anyone over there in the current era. But I know it’s delusional. In reality, my conservative parents of 2003 are more like staunch social conservatives of 2025.

This is what happens when you are far away from something. When you are isolated, you forget how things really are. It’s related to the same impulse we have to forget the bad memories but remember the good ones. I know that I suffer from this forgetfulness due to my glorious distance from the hysterical liberal framework.

Belly of the beast

I realize that my distance from liberals has softened my emotional response to them somewhere in my mind. I often find myself thinking about them — the opposition — in purely intellectual terms. I think of them earning a C- in class rather than a big, fat F. Or maybe they are like some distant tribe in the Amazon rainforest with strange and disturbing ways that aren’t compatible with our civilization. I enjoy the comfort of intellectual distance.

But then I inevitably have a wretched face-to-face encounter with 2025 liberalism, and my calm, zen-like attitude evaporates. I feel a surge of emotions; suddenly I'm disgusted, irritated, and angry. This is what people deal with every single day at work and every single day on the street. No wonder people are so angry all the time. I would be too.

I don’t even know how perpetually angry I would be if I had to deal with degenerating 2025 liberalism all the time.

It’s really interesting how distance obfuscates truth. How my isolation from liberals is great for my general outlook yet also threatens to delude me into a softer emotional response. I’m not eager to surround myself with liberals, trying to convince people who have no desire to be convinced. I’m going to stay right here in the heart of the right, working to make our side stronger. But maybe every once in a while I need to venture out into the belly of the beast just to remind myself how bad things really are and how miserable it must be to be a liberal in 2025.

“There but for the grace of God go I.”

Dystopian future as misguided safety push sends drivers to 'kill switch jail'

Imagine your 2026 car shutting off mid-drive because it thinks you’re drunk or otherwise impaired.

That’s real! And you can find it in Section 24220 of the 2021 Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act — a mandate still alive despite fierce pushback, set to raise car prices and spark debate.

Proponents of the so-called "kill switch" say they just want to make the roads safer. But at what cost?

Consider the possibility of misreadings and technical errors. It's bad enough when a glitch keeps us out of an app or prevents us from sending an email. Now, imagine having the autonomy and freedom that comes with your car being taken from you at will.

No restart

Keep in mind that there are no reset or restart protocols outlined in the law. The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration hasn’t finalized these rules yet, so any description of how a car restarts remains speculative based on current tech trends and the law’s intent.

No wonder they call it "kill switch jail." And unlike regular jail, you don't get to plead your case.

This is not just a gadget; it’s a computer judging us behind the wheel. When the bill passed, X erupted — drivers posted memes of cars as “nanny cops,” while safety groups cheered it as a lifeline.

This all depends on passive alcohol monitoring — a new and relatively untested technology in which no breathalyzers are required. You simply breathe normally and sensors in the cabin will tell you if you're good to go.

It's like having a traffic cop in the passenger seat, administering a continuous DUI check. In other words, you're guilty until proven innocent.

Freedom vs. safety

A 2022 survey by the American Automobile Association found 62% of Americans worry about tech overreach in cars, yet 55% support drunk-driving fixes.

This clash — freedom versus safety — is why Section 24220’s so divisive. As of March 31, 2025, it’s barreling toward reality. Can it be stopped? Will it save lives or just pad profits for insurance companies? Or is it going to stop drivers from buying a 2026 model car? We don’t need more nannies in our cars. Here’s the latest and what it means for your next ride.

Section 24220, tucked into the 1,100-page Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act — signed by President Biden on November 15, 2021 — requires every new car sold after 2026 to include “advanced impaired driving technology.”

This means cameras, sensors, or breath detectors passively monitoring your driving to detect if you’re drunk, distracted, or drowsy. If flagged, the car could stall or refuse to start. The law cites 10,142 alcohol-impaired driving deaths in 2019, aiming to tackle a $44 billion problem from 2010 data — adjusted to roughly $60 billion today with inflation, per the Bureau of Labor Statistics. The pitch was: Save lives and cut costs.

Murky details

The details are murky at best. The tech could include the Driver Alcohol Detection System for Safety funded by the NHTSA, based on three possible technologies targeting an .08 blood alcohol concentration cutoff: a touch sensor on the steering wheel sniffing alcohol through your skin; a touch sensor on the push-button ignition; or the aforementioned breath scanner in the cabin.

This information would be enhanced with other "evidence" gleaned from your car eavesdropping on your speech, monitoring your eyes through infrared sensors and cameras hidden in the dash or rearview mirror to detect a possible issue.

Who decides if you need to pull over? A computer decides. Again, welcome to “kill switch jail."

Disputed accuracy

Tests in 2023 claimed these systems could operate at 85% accuracy, but a Virginia Tech study found that something as simple as cold weather or the driver wearing gloves could disrupt it.

Cameras, like those in Tesla’s driver-monitoring system, watch your eyes — slow blinks or glances away trigger alerts. Volvo’s 2024 XC90 flags fatigue, but the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety reports a 10% false-positive rate in dim light.

These aren’t sci-fi toys; they’re real, flawed, and racing toward your dashboard. As of 2024, NHTSA has not defined the rules, with a possible three-year delay if the tech isn’t ready. How about defunding and removing this rule?!

Massie leads the charge

Rep. Thomas Massie of Kentucky (R) has led the charge against the mandate, calling it a “privacy nightmare” and “federal overreach.” In November 2023, his amendment to defund Section 24220 won 199 Republicans and two Democrats but failed with 229 to 201 votes, when 19 Republicans — including Rep. Nancy Mace (S.C.), Rep. Mike Garcia (Calif.), and Rep. Don Bacon (Neb.) — joined 210 Democrats to keep it alive.

Mace, a safety hawk after pushing a 2022 DUI crackdown in South Carolina, sees it as a legacy win, while Garcia’s district hosts tech firms like Qualcomm, hinting at job promises. The Alliance for Automotive Innovation — representing General Motors, Toyota, and Ford — lobbied $12 million in 2021 to shape the bill, per OpenSecrets.

Democrats lean on NHTSA’s 2022 “Vision Zero” pledge for zero traffic deaths by 2050, but critics like Sen. Rand Paul (R-Ky.), in a 2023 speech, warned of a “surveillance state on wheels.”

In February 2025, Massie grilled Michael Hanson of the Governors Highway Safety Association in a House hearing, demanding proof of this working tech. Hanson admitted it’s untested at scale, unlike seatbelts, which were standard in cars by the 1960s before mandates, or ignition interlock devices, which are breathalyzers that lock the car if you’re over the limit and cut repeat DUIs by 70%, per Mothers Against Drunk Driving.

Massie’s still fighting, but time’s running out: 2026 models are being built starting this summer.

Duffy to the rescue?

As of March 31, 2025, NHTSA’s rules remain unpublished. This is now in the hands of Secretary Sean Duffy. It can push it to 2027 with a progress report to Congress if tech lags, and with 2026 just months away, automakers are scrambling.

A 2022 repeal attempt — the Safeguarding Privacy in Your Car Act (S.4647) from Republican Sens. Mike Rounds (S.D.), Mike Braun (Ind.), and John Cornyn (Texas) — sits stalled in committee. NHTSA’s January 2024 proposal floats camera options, eyeing production in 2025 — maybe. Without a repeal, this kill switch still looms over consumers.

An expensive proposition

The cost will hit drivers hard, as adding cameras, sensors, and artificial intelligence to vehicles could tack hundreds of dollars onto each of the millions of new cars sold yearly in the U.S. This equals a $3.4 to $8.5 billion annual jump, straight from buyers’ pockets.

By 2030, 80% of cars will be connected. Expect more shop visits for failed sensors and software glitches — which will, in turn, increase the cost of insurance and ownership.

The NHTSA says this driver-monitoring tech could save 9,400 lives a year and erase a $60 billion burden from drunk driving: from lost jobs, hospital bills, and wrecked cars. In 2021, insurance companies paid out big for alcohol-related crashes, according to the Insurance Information Institute, but your premiums didn’t change — they just kept the extra cash. Hospitals didn’t lower bills, either. That $60 billion saving goes to them, not you.

Will it work?

So will it work? Drunk driving took over 12,000 lives in 2021, mostly from drivers over the legal limit, contributing to over 42,000 total traffic deaths — a 16-year high. Tougher laws and ignition interlock devices, such as breathalyzers that lock the car, have cut deaths by nearly a third since 1990, with millions installed, per Mothers Against Drunk Driving. Still, 2021’s jump sparked this push.

What about these high-tech in-car cameras? A 2024 study by the Swedish Transport Agency found Volvo’s Driver Alert Control system dropped fatigue crashes 20%, yet 15% of alerts were false. While this is a good example, glitches and privacy fears could tank drivers' trust in these new technologies. Data on your speed or habits could leak to insurers (jacking up premiums), advertisers (targeting you with ads), or the police. NHTSA denies a police kill switch, but hacking or future laws could shift that. Supporters argue NHTSA's estimated 9,400 lives saved justify it — if it’s flawless, which it definitely isn’t yet.

The 2026 deadline — set to sync with new models — gave automakers five years to get it done. By 2026, or 2029 if pushed, every new car could carry this new technology, raising prices and watching you like Big Brother. Massie has been applying pressure, but without a Senate breakthrough, expect that couple-hundred-dollar hike, no insurance relief, and a car that might misjudge you, sticking you in "kill switch jail."

So is this safety or overreach? What’s your take?

Lessons from the ice storm

I live way up in Northern Michigan. Not quite the Upper Peninsula but almost. Closer to Canada than Detroit, in what many would call the “middle of nowhere.”

We get a ton of snow storms — 125 inches of snow per year is the average. Weekends of 18 inches falling from the sky aren’t really that uncommon. “It snows every single day up there,” in the words of my father.

It was smart to trust our guts and leave when we did. In our modern world, we tend not to listen to our instincts. We think we are too smart for them.

But we don’t get too many ice storms. The temperature doesn’t tend to hang out around 32, accommodating the wicked mix of rain and sleet required to create any meaningful ice problems.

Frozen, creaking, snapping

Last weekend was different. The whole northern tip of Michigan’s Lower Peninsula was decimated by the worst ice storm we had seen in over a century. Everything shut down. Everywhere lost power. The streetlights were black. Gas stations unable to pump. Towns completely dark. Electrical substations were out of commission, hundreds of electrical poles had collapsed.

We lost power Saturday night at around 8 p.m. We assumed the lights would be back on in a few hours.

We were wrong. In the middle of the night, lying in bed, we listened to the frozen trees outside our window. The wind blew, and thousands of little cracks echoed in the air. The ice-covered branches sounded like mini machine guns rippling over our roof. Every once in a while, we heard a creak, a violent snap, followed by a low thud rattling the house.

It was eerie, lying there in the quiet, waiting for the next snap, wondering if one of the great trees in the back would end up coming down right through our roof.

The wind wasn’t terribly loud. There was no howling, only cracking. Being aware of the fact that the entire region was dark when viewed from outer space made those moments in bed that night all the more ominous. The whole wooded land dark, frozen, creaking, cracking, snapping.

Time to go

By noon the next day, things seemed to be getting worse. More branches came down, taking electrical wires with them. The electricity wasn’t coming back soon. We decided there was no reason to sit around and wait. We decided to pack up the kids and the $500 worth of meat in our chest freezer and head four hours south to stay with family in West Michigan.

With just under half a tank of gas, we needed to find a station as soon as possible. We found a Mobil with power in Boyne Falls. A line of cars stretched out of the parking lot. After 10 minutes, a worker came and told us they were out of gas.

We bought some ice inside, packed the coolers of meat full, and got back on the road. Fifteen miles farther south, in Alba, we found another station with power. This time they had gas. With a full tank and coolers full of ice, we were on our way.

Our neighbors stayed. They kept us updated with texts over the next few days. We told them to go over and raid our pantry, use our towels, and take anything they needed.

The great birch

Our power finally came back on Wednesday night, four days after it went out. Many suffered incredible damage. There are some in the country who still don’t have power. Thankfully, our house is relatively fine, though the great birch in the back is destroyed, and the maple lost some big branches, too.

With everything in life, there is always something to learn. Some lesson, some insight, some reflection. The smartest thing we did was leave when we thought we should leave. Four days without power isn’t a Herculean test, but it isn’t enjoyable when you are in the middle of an ice storm in the middle of nowhere. No one would really choose to do it.

I’m a workaholic. I’ve got too many deadlines and too many projects. If we would have stayed, I wouldn’t have gotten any work done. In addition to being out $500 dollars worth of meat, I would also be catching up for the next two weeks. Staying would have only made things worse for everyone.

It was smart to trust our guts and leave when we did. In our modern world, we tend not to listen to our instincts. We think we are too smart for them. They seem like hocus pocus when compared against the spreadsheet. We explain them away as being irrational or illogical. And of course, sometimes they are, but sometimes they aren’t.

This time, they weren’t.

Fragile systems

It’s incredible how fragile our modern systems are. We need electricity to do our work. We need electricity to keep our food fresh. We need electricity to call on the phone. We need electricity to get our gas. We need electricity to go anywhere. Just a few days without this thing, and the world comes crashing down.

Three hundred years ago, the same storm wouldn’t really impact life so much. The horses would keep marching, the letters would keep moving, the fire would stay burning, work would get done. No food would go bad, no systems would melt down. The only thing that might happen would be property damage due to a falling tree.

Today, if the electricity stops, life stops. It’s fascinating and worrying how fragile we, and our modern world, are. We are skating on egg shells.

The great, beautiful birch in our backyard is destroyed. The branches cracked at the top and buckled down. The old tree is drooped over our deck. We are all sad about it. We loved that tree. The long branches, the beautiful leaves, the white paper-like bark. Lying in the hammock on long summer days, watching the sky under the shady protection of the old beauty.

It’s the same story for all the big birches on our street. All those tall, lanky giants were taken down by the ice. Their strong trunks made no difference. Their long branches — the ones that only come with age — were too vulnerable.

The young ones around town are fine. Without any fatal cracks, they will bounce back soon as the weather warms. Their branches were too small and light to be broken under the weight of the ice. They’re OK. That's how it's supposed to be.

We need to start trusting our primal survival instincts again

“Never judge a book by its cover.”

“There’s some good in everyone.”

Our grandparents would look at a scenario like this and decide, correctly, that the visitor on their doorstep was not going to get an answer or an invitation.

“You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”

“Always give the benefit of the doubt first.”

Some of those sound like good advice to you, don’t they?

But are they, actually, good advice? Are these truisms enough moral instruction for children? Is that all they need to know before you send them to fly out of the nest?

Stranger danger

Or, do they need to hear these, too?

“Don’t talk to strange adults.”

“Be on your guard around suspicious looking people until you determine they’re safe.”

“Don’t automatically open the front door just because someone knocked.”

“Remember that there are wolves in sheep’s clothing.”

The West, and America in particular, have been the subjects of a psychological manipulation project for at least 60 years. It’s been successful at dulling our God-given natural instincts. It has convinced us not only to ignore but to actively distrust our intuition.

It has done this by reframing our normal instinctive responses as “bigotry” and “cold-heartedness.”

The big lie

I’m not proposing a grand, conscious conspiracy from a government or shadowy organization. I don’t think this project is a fully plotted out “plan” by criminal masterminds.

Instead, I think that cultural forces — activist groups and politicians, media, universities — have collectively bought into a cultural push that benefits their interests at the cost of yours. They make money and accrue cultural power from your cooperation with their project of convincing you that you have to “be nice” and “be empathetic” to whichever favored group they promote. Whether this is fiscally, emotionally, or physically safe for you doesn’t matter.

In short, you’ve been lied to, and you now believe the lie.

You think you’re “racist” and “a bad person” when you cross the street to avoid a group of five young black men at night. You’re a “xenophobe” if you want illegal aliens deported and don’t wish them housed in the motel next to your daughter’s school. You’re “transphobic” if you don’t want grown men in lipstick traipsing through public bathrooms or your daughter’s college locker room.

This is a leftist mindset, but it does not only afflict the left. Just as the majority of women today, including many on the right, see the world at base through a feminist lens (men are responsible for women’s problems), many on the right are just as susceptible to turning off their intuition out of fear of being seen as “mean.”

Who goes there?

Let’s look at a real-life example. To understand this, you should watch this short video of a doorbell camera. It’s only 40 seconds long, but you need to see it in order to follow where I’m going next.

The scene is a front porch in a well-kept suburban neighborhood. A black woman and her young daughter walk onto the porch and ring the bell. The woman speaks to the camera and claims she wants to borrow a cup of sugar. Getting no response, she speaks more:

“You don’t have to answer, but, uh, I know you can hear me. I can hear you on the inside.”

Note that.

Still getting no response, the woman then stops pushing the doorbell and starts physically rapping on the door. The video ends at this point.

The variation in how people respond to this video concerns me. It is quite obvious that something is off about this woman’s behavior, yet many seem to believe it was the homeowner being “rude” or “weird” for not answering the door. That’s a direct reversal of reality.

Just a cup of sugar?

Wilfred Reilly, a college professor and podcaster (disclosure: I know Wil online, have appeared on shows with him, and I like and respect him), reacted with a post that claimed the video showed “the most sane and conventional interaction” and that right-wing people reacting badly to it were “panicking” at something totally benign.

“This is literally a neighbor asking to borrow a cup of sugar,” Reilly wrote.

No, it’s not. And there was nothing “sane and conventional” about this situation.

Let’s go through the “tells,” the alerts to potential danger, throughout this 40-second video.

The neighborhood appears to be solidly upper-middle class. The woman who shows up is dressed in pajamas, a T-shirt, and has a shower cap on her head. She claims to be the homeowner’s “neighbor,” but this is unlikely (possible, but unlikely). Yes, I’m afraid that the fact that she’s black, and that she is dressed that way, does make it less likely that she lives in the neighborhood. Noticing this is not “racism”; it’s just plain, obvious common sense.

Therefore, we already have reason to believe the door-knocker is not being honest.

Is it really likely that a “neighbor” you have never seen before would come over to your house to borrow a cup of sugar? Really? To onlookers like Wilfred Reilly, this seems normal. To me, it seems like a ham-fisted use of an old cliché by someone working an angle.
Notice the attitude of entitlement and implied aggression in what the door-knocking woman says. “I know you can hear me,” and “I can hear you on the inside.” Does that sound like something that a kindly neighbor would say if she were hoping to get a favor from you? Would you take that tone with a stranger from whom you were asking for help? It’s simply not believable, and with all due respect to my friend Wil, this shouldn’t be difficult to discern.
It’s possible that the woman really was home alone with her daughter and had to bring her daughter along to ask for sugar to finish making cookies. But it is not likely. It is more likely that this chick is working an angle for money and that she uses her daughter to appear harmless and to melt hearts. None of us can know for sure, but the “I’m sure she means well” interpretation is not a rational choice in this scenario.

Neutered intuition

There would be no point in writing this column decades ago, because the majority of people had common sense.

They had not yet been convinced that their instincts were false and that their intuitions were nothing but bigotry. Our grandparents would look at a scenario like this and decide, correctly, that the visitor on their doorstep was not going to get an answer or an invitation.

But modern Westerners have neutered their own intuition. IQ has nothing to do with it. Brilliant people, average people, and dim people alike have shut down their gut responses because we’re all afraid of being accused of being “discriminatory.”

It’s worth thinking about how “discrimination” simply means “making a choice between multiple options.” Modern Western culture — woke culture — doesn’t want you exercising judgment or making choices. Do we really think that’s to our benefit?

This tableaux on a suburban porch did not turn into anything truly dangerous or noteworthy, of course. But it could have. And the attitude taken by people who think the homeowners were in the wrong is the same attitude that gets nice people taken advantage of or killed.

'The Gift of Fear'

It’s easiest to see in the extreme cases. Travis Lewis, a black man, killed Martha McKay’s mother and cousin in 1996 (the McKays were white). Under the spell of “there’s some good in everyone,” Martha McKay befriended her mother’s murderer.

Twenty-six years later, Lewis killed Martha McKay, too, in the same house in which he killed her mother.

Terminal naivete and gullibility will get you and your family hurt, exploited, or killed. Modern Americans, particularly white Americans, suffer badly from this. Some are only going to learn at the very last moment, when they realize the nice man they wanted to help is about to pull the trigger in their face.

You don’t have to be one of these people. I have a prescription for a cure: Read Gavin de Becker's groundbreaking book "The Gift of Fear."

De Becker, who grew up in a violent and unstable home, has become the premiere personal security expert in the world. "The Gift of Fear" takes readers through real-life scenarios, illustrating the “tells” you should watch out for, guiding you away from self-endangering thinking that shuts down your gut instincts.

Read it before it’s too late.