Tag Archives: automotive technology

After a couple of failed attempts to sell the Toyota Mirai and the Honda Clarity, it’s safe to say the hydrogen-based fuel cell electric vehicle (FCEV) hasn’t taken off here in the U.S. It doesn’t help that the only fueling stations are in California, where both the Mirai and the more recent Hyundai Nexo are exclusively sold, and that the infrastructure is otherwise nonexistent in the rest of the country. Still, Hyundai has big plans for hydrogen, including using it to power homes and businesses.

The Korean automaker said its hydrogen solutions include commercial trucks and buses, trams, heavy equipment, ships, generators, and air mobility. FCEVs use the element to generate electricity, which can then power an electric motor. Where burning fossil fuels creates carbon and all sorts of nasty emissions, water is the only byproduct of using hydrogen to generate electricity.

As part of its growth strategy, the automaker will bolster its supply chains and expand its control over “production, storage, transportation, and utilization.” Hyundai said it has affiliates across the supply chain, which gives it the ability to develop more tailored hydrogen solutions. It believes this structure will accelerate hydrogen adoption and improve technology. Hyundai is also working on capturing hydrogen from environmental pollutants, utilizing plastics that can’t be recycled as well as organic materials like food waste, livestock manure, and more. 

While Hyundai is testing its hydrogen ambitions in other countries, in the States, it’s using the technology to help build its next EV factory. The Hyundai Motor Group Metaplant America in Georgia is under construction and will employ the automaker’s Clean Logistics Project, which focuses on building hydrogen infrastructure and supply chains. Once it’s up and running, the factory will also use Xcient Fuel Cell tractors to manage logistics as it heads toward its goal of producing 300,000 EVs annually.

If you’ve tried chatting online with your bank or almost any other business lately, there’s a great chance you’ve been talking with a robot – more specifically, artificial intelligence. The rise of AI has been rapid, as companies like OpenAI released their technology. The potential and possible dangers are almost endless, and Volkswagen feels the time is right to give your car a dose of AI, just in case the massive touchscreen and digital gauge cluster didn’t distract you enough already.

VW introduced its ChatGPT integration at CES 2024 in Las Vegas, saying that it will eventually make its way into all of the automaker’s vehicles equipped with the IDA voice assistant system, starting in the second quarter of this year. For now, the list includes the Tiguan, the upcoming new Golf and Passat, ID.7, ID.4, ID.5, and ID.3. 

The technology will enable deeper control of the infotainment, navigation, and climate control systems, and users can ask general questions. VW envisions a world where owners can get help “enriching conversations, clearing up questions, interacting in intuitive language, receiving vehicle-specific information, and more – purely hands-free.”

We already know our vehicles are spying on us, but VW said its AI system does not access vehicle data and noted that it deletes questions and answers immediately to protect privacy. The technology is backed by Cerence Inc., a Massachusetts-based company focused on automotive virtual assistants, which will be responsible for updating and maintaining the system, as well as ensuring its security. 

While VW said it’s the first automaker to develop such technology, it won’t be the last. Companies like Cerence and major automotive OEMs are working to integrate AI with several vehicle systems, including safety and semi-autonomous driving assistants.  

Over the past few weeks in Los Angeles, Elon Musk’s long-anticipated Tesla Cybertruck fever dream finally became an objectively verifiable reality. And not just on popular car-spotting Instagram posts, either. In early December, I actually witnessed a Cybertruck driving down the Pacific Coast Highway one morning. Then, a few days later, I cruised by one stuck in traffic on the 405. And unless someone got a quick wrap job done, I can also confirm that these first two sightings were, in fact, different Cybertrucks: one finished in that famous brushed stainless and the other in matte black.

Then, a few days later, the Petersen Automotive Museum invited select media for the debut of a new Cybertruck exhibit in the entry hall, complete with an exoskeleton sitting out in the open, as well as the truck that got shot by a Tommy Gun, and even a quick look at the original prototype downstairs in the museum’s Vault. Tesla designer Franz von Holzhausen actually owns the production Cybertruck on display bearing VIN #002—almost certainly the matte black one I saw on the 405—and even volunteered as tribute to answer questions from an almost certainly skeptical crowd.

But Musk and von Holzhausen are very busy people trying to change the world (maybe worlds if the Mars plan works out), so I felt absolutely zero surprise when I received a last-minute text bumping up the schedule. Then, when I arrived at the Petersen early, the poor PR pros on hand let me know that von Holzhausen never showed up. Interviews with lowly automotive journalists might not cut the mustard at Tesla, as it turns out, setting off a little warning bell dinging in my mind before I turned for a closer look at the angular hulking masses of metal making up the exhibit.

I wanted to pester von Holzhausen about why the production version shrank by a few percentage points, how the design iteration process began originally, and whether he also believed Tesla dug its own grave with the Cybertruck, as Musk admitted earlier this year. Instead, without a need to keep my game face (or audio recording) switched on, I spent the next hour-plus getting up close and personal with one of the strangest, most perplexing vehicles ever built.

I investigate to see if the Tesla Cybertruck is really that safe

First impressions of the angular Cybertruck

First off, outside on the Petersen parking garage’s first floor, I took a quick pic of a guy taking a pic of a Tesla Semi—full Christopher Nolan Inception soundtrack playing in my head, of course. In contrast to the Cybertruck, the Semi builds on von Holzhausen’s formerly smooth and aerodynamically efficient designs for the Models S, 3, X, and Y (and, supposedly, the forthcoming Roadster, but more on that later). 

Not so much for the Cybertruck, an undeniable exercise in angular excess that attracted even more attention inside the Petersen’s entry hall. The black wrap and black exoskeleton only accentuated the presence of a bulky, boxy shape. The overall size surprised me, too, possibly attributable to the differences between seeing Cybertrucks out and about surrounded by other large cars as I rolled by on motorcycles.

Riding motorcycles in LA traffic is sketchy enough without stopping to rubberneck a controversial new electric pickup truck, so those early impressions only piqued my interest in taking a closer look at the Petersen. And the first thoughts to flit through my bedraggled pre-holiday mind ran the gamut from “gross!” to “gargantuan” because the angular peak sat higher than expected, even with the adjustable air suspension at its normal ride height. The cab looked bigger than in my mind’s eye, and the bed looked smaller. I began to wish I’d brought a tape measure.

Trying to get a better bearing on the actual adjustability of that air suspension system, I ducked into the wheel arch—if we can call it that since it’s squared off. The design somewhat resembled the finger knuckle A-arm of my old Type 955 Porsche Cayenne, except that where Porsche overengineered the Cayenne’s suspension, Tesla appears to have stamped the Cybertruck’s upper A-arm out of sheet metal. Not ideal for an electric truck that weighs north of 6,600 pounds, I thought. And in fact, von Holzhausen’s truck qualifies as the top-spec “Cyberbeast” (because, of course), so it should weigh closer to 3,800 pounds thanks to three electric motors.

Would the rest of the so-called “exoskeleton” continue that beefy theme? Well, in reality, Tesla calls the cage on display a “Body-in-white,” and the exoskeleton itself is made up of the body side panels that connect the front and rear structures, while the roof and rear wall connect the left and right sides. Obviously, we’ve come a long way from the by-now “traditional” skateboard battery layout. But the purpose here, other than general aspirations of badassery, actually involves reducing the number of parts required in what Tesla now calls a “Gigacasting” (because, again, of course).

In all honesty, the body-in-white impressed me more than the actual stainless steel exterior (albeit wrapped) of the finished product. But here, engineers probably received more control over the process rather than being forced to bring Musk’s vision of a slab-everything body to life. Tesla obviously needs to hit all the rigidity targets, accurate mounting points for subassemblies, and crash structure capabilities required by rules and regulations in order to bring the truck to market. Right?

Easy fodder for the critics (a.k.a. me)

Meanwhile, the visible flat panels of the finished truck do absolutely nothing to hide flaws. Even subtle curves or flowing lines on a normal—read: boring—car can help move eyeballs along without drawing awareness to peculiar or mismatched details. Flat planes make mistakes stand out, so Musk’s vision only made the production of Cybertrucks all that much more of a challenge (even beyond the sheer engineering requirements of cranking out an electric pickup with the aerodynamics of a brick).

To that end, the slightly rounded front panel might look the best, while the flat sides, angled inward up top with a flat windscreen that transitions to a roof, all seem somewhat cockeyed from almost every perspective. Is my mind playing tricks on me? Again, should have brought the tape measure. And maybe an eight-foot level to check those straight lines.

No straight line on the whole Cybertruck looks more egregious than the enormous combined hood and front windshield and its single wiper arm. Approximately 48 inches long, based on measurements compared to my wingspan, the arm pivots only from the driver’s side and will almost certainly struggle to keep the passenger’s side of the windshield clear. And will owners need to source wiper blades for semi trucks or road graders to fit? The blade almost reminds me of an early-2000s Mercedes-Benz CLK, but that wiper arm swung from the center with a strange hump in the pivot point to help cover more of the rectangular windshield (still not nearly as rectangular as the Cybertruck’s, though).

Then I glanced down through the windshield and noticed tiny openings at the base of the expansive, flat dash. Maybe for speakers, defroster vents, or both, these little openings looked entirely insufficient for either purpose. And I thought my mom’s second-gen Toyota Prius had a long dash—then again, maybe the low, raked windshield angle requires less air to prevent steaming up. On the other hand, that long dash reveals a major surprise about the Cybertruck that runs almost entirely counter to most other EV designs: Namely, the interior of such a large vehicle doesn’t even feel very spacious. The sharp edges and isolated lines of such a stark profile simply don’t allow for the kind of efficient packaging that made the Model S, 3, X, and Y so revolutionary when they each debuted.

Dino guts burnt to produce the plasticine era

Meanwhile, out in the front, that full-width plastic light bar sits below expansive panel gaps leading down from the windshield along the frunk hood. And below those gaps, through which I could probably sneak an HB #2 pencil, the plasticine fender flares around plastic and rubber wheel covers, simply put, look nearer to a child’s toy than a production pickup. Carved tires, a la most bold concept cars? Maybe on the original Cybertruck, but also a major surprise on von Holzhausen’s personal daily driver. Non-branded other than “Goodyear” and “Load Range D,” the tires themselves measure 285 millimeters in width at all four corners, though, as a recent scandalous video showed, perhaps lack the true kind of all-terrain or mud-terrain compound that such aggressive blocks and sipes might more regularly indicate.

The irony of using dinosaur guts to produce the plastic on an electric car entirely notwithstanding, the theme continues in the truck bed, too. There, a Petersen rep helpfully pushed the rubber buttons on the left side to roll up the shuttered bed cover and drop the tailgate—the latter worked but required a bit of a helping hand from me, too. (That rolling shutter, by the way, almost entirely kills any semblance of rear visibility.) But more importantly, because the buttons live out in the elements, they are made out of another plasticky-rubberized material reminiscent of jet ski controls or, somewhat hilariously, the Polaris Slingshot’s infotainment buttons.

In the rear bed, a light strip of similar material to the front brightens up all the black plastic on von Holzhausen’s truck. A real outlet in the bed reportedly powers 120-volt appliances, though I left my espresso machine at home, so I cannot confirm whether it functions—I see no reason why not, but here we are looking at a Cybertruck, after all. The thick bed walls funnel back towards the squared rear bumper, huge panel gaps continuing throughout. Of course, seals below the surface and a watertight battery pack for the skateboard might help, but the thought of this vehicle being able to drive as a boat across rivers and calm seas, as Musk claimed, seems unlikely.

And that’s not to mention the sharp edges at the end of each gap, especially noticeable up front with the frunk hood lifted. Not only will such sharp edges—made of stainless steel thick enough to inspire machine gun testing, remember—undoubtedly wreak havoc on any other cars in the case of accidents, but imagine a child jumping out of the frunk bench seat and hitting their head on the corner. Ouch!

Spartan to the point Of austerity

The questionable angularity continues on the Cybertruck’s interior, where if you thought the S3XY were Spartan, guess again. The steering wheel even gets a squared-off treatment, not quite a yoke but nearer to a racecar design (or a C8 Corvette but wider). As on the Model 3 and Model Y, the Cybertruck’s massive single touchscreen sits horizontally, as is the trend with Tesla, including the recently-revised Model S that now sports the same style of touchscreen. However, the dash also seems to lack climate control vents, too, unless there are tiny openings on the dash to do the trick, like in Model 3s. Controls on the steering wheel seem a step beyond the strict rollerballs and stalks of previous Teslas, but just about everything still requires diving into text-heavy menus on the main touchscreen, including apps, music, and suspension settings.

Selecting different ride heights elicits a noticeable increase or decrease in the wheel arch clearances, though the process of rising and lowering takes about as long as my 2006 Cayenne while the air compressor noticeably charges up pressures. Other options on the touchscreen include playing with the LED mood lighting, which von Holzhausen’s Cybertruck perhaps had set to a karaoke bar theme. I never counted the cupholders since I’m apparently the world’s worst automotive journalist (I blame the distraction factor of that huge dash, large enough to house a Winston Churchill war game).

Flat plastic door panels, flat plastic window switches, flat plastic on the center console, flat metal pedals, and then “Cybertruck” script welded into the foot sill—everything seems utilitarian to the point of no return. Will the remaining customer base who placed early pre-orders and now faces a price tag about half again as high as Musk promised to appreciate the cheaping out? Or do the diehards stick with their deposits and not care? Maybe they even love the austerity? Even the new car smell, still present despite von Holzhausen’s daily driving, smelled plasticky to the point of nearly Airstream-level formaldehyde. And smells are probably even more important in non-internal-combustion cars, believe it or not!

Machine gun testing, because of course

At least we know the Cybertruck truly can take a beating, if not a bowling ball, to the window. The next truck I wandered over to proved as much, riddled with dents and a few small metal tears after being shot with a series of 9mm and .45 caliber bullets. I brushed my hand up against some of the markings and can confirm that none appeared to pierce the metal entirely. Not bad, though, as a friend later suggested, some malcontents may relish the invitation to open fire on a famously bulletproof truck.

This early Cybertruck also gave me a chance to compare some of the differences that always emerge as concept cars progress through development on the way to production. Different fender flares and bumper designs stood out, and I started to wonder whether the design looked better in a matte wrap or exposed stainless. At the very least, wrapping flat stainless probably requires less effort than curved body panels. Or does it? Does it prevent any wrinkles and air bubbles? Maybe a wrap shop with experience working on DeLoreans can get the job done.

To wrap up the visit—pun fully intended—I headed down into the Petersen’s Vault, where the original Cybertruck concept sat charging. Again, the design differences stood out quickly. I spotted an earlier charge port, a cleaner rear bumper, and then a real steering yoke on the interior. Three semi-bucket bench seats made up the front row here, rather than the production version’s center console—the slight shrinkage in overall size might have made a third seat too narrow. If only von Holzhausen had shown up to confirm such speculation.

The concept truck also featured an even more radically squared-off dash design, so my skull naturally winced again at the thought of passenger impacts in the case of an accident. And better lenses on the light bar up front also stood out, even if a ton of fingerprints on the stainless steel distracted me once more. Keeping the raw metal clean looks like a nightmare task, so maybe the wrap is the way to go after all.

A sharply angled misdirection

Once I left the Cybertrucks and the Petersen behind, my mind kept wandering. At the very least, nobody can say Tesla built a radical concept car into a production vehicle without provoking serious thought about the state of the automotive industry. Bold and aggressive, the design sparks off a new stylistic generation for Tesla—but that’s exactly what the formerly S3XY Models need more than anything, and what buyers need more than an electric pickup truck that borders on gimmick status.

In a surprising moment of self-reflection, Musk all but admitted that perhaps the Cybertruck went a step too far. Not that such a startling truth prevented him from pushing forward into production. We’re far too far into billionaire celebrity-dom to admit certain levels of error or hand the naysayers any kind of victory. And everyone who’s an automotive nerd remembers a certain John DeLorean’s similar drug-fueled stainless-steel fiasco. 

The fact that Tesla still plans to build the Cybertruck at all represents keeping a promise of sorts, which I suppose is a good thing. And something I always have to keep in mind while critiquing any running, driving car is that actually building a running, driving a car requires a miraculous combination of hard work and a fair amount of luck. But as the Cybertruck finally emerges from delay after delay, the end result still seems like something of a misdirection for the company’s efforts and resources. How about dedicating that work and luck to the cars more people will actually drive? What happened to the Roadster and promises of 600-plus miles of range? 

Meanwhile, Tesla also desperately needs to direct more time and effort into parts and service for cars already on the road while continuing to press forward on the infrastructure change that Musk’s electric revolution requires here on Earth. Yes, Tesla is an automobile manufacturer. But the grandiose vision almost centers more around energy solutions than the cars themselves. And in the Cybertruck, all that energy focuses in the wrong direction.

This is a psyop. Go buy flex fuel.

But wait, how does this crap even work? Isn’t this just alcoholic corn juice? Isn’t a high alcohol content bad for engines? Well, I have the answers: Works well enough. Yes, it’s just corn. And kinda-sorta-maybe, but not really.

Frankly, I’ve been a skeptic about high-ethanol-blended gas after hearing debates about its usefulness and possible detriments throughout high school auto shop classes. But more and more over the years, I see people preach its gospel, highlighting a niche where high-ethanol fuels shine: high performance. Or, more specifically, high horsepower! 

I recently purchased a track-built Subaru BRZ (more on the car itself below!) from an old work friend with the intent of “finishing” the build and attending more HPDE events. Friends, colleagues, and YouTubers alike have all incessantly hammered on the benefits of ethanol, like sleeper agent brainwashing. And now that I actually have a popular candidate for such a modification, why not give it a try? So, I am. Starting with installing the hardware itself. 

But first! Some nerdery to help folks better understand what any of these doohickeys even are.

You should daily drive your track car

Flex fuel and E85 explained

E85 is basically a higher-ethanol-blended variant of regular gasoline. E stands for ethanol, while the numeric value after it represents the percentage mix of ethanol, typically made by fermenting and distilling starchy crops. While barley and wheat can be used, the most common ingredient in the U.S. is corn. Yes, like the kind best served on the COBB. See what I did there? The blend can vary, but the most commonly used blend in performance applications is E85 or 85% ethanol and 15% gasoline.

Flex fuel simply refers to a fuel system that runs on both standard gasoline and high-ethanol fuels, capable of adjusting its tune on the fly and adapting to the ethanol percentage. Nowadays, swathes of vehicles feature flex fuel from the factory, known as flexible fuel vehicles (FFV), from rugged work trucks to million-dollar hypercars. My dad’s old F-150 with the Triton V8 was flex fuel, as do many GM pickups and SUVs. Perhaps most prominently are Koenigsegg hypercars, who advertise their very best power and performance figures on E85.

How flex fuel and E85 work

The physical form of flex fuel in modern cars is nothing more than a sensor system attached to the car’s fuel system. In the case of my BRZ, it’s a mere sensor half the size of a credit card that mounts to the strut tower, plus some fuel lines to redirect fuel into the sensor and a Bluetooth module for feeding ethanol readings to a companion phone app. Generally speaking, for all kits, the sensor reads the ethanol content of the car’s fuel and adjusts the ECU’s tuning to compensate for more or less ethanol. It typically does so on the fly, meaning you fill the car up and go without the need to bust out ye ol’ laptop or Accessport to change tune files like some troglodyte (i.e. me, I have no Bluetooth tuner or phone app).

E85 has become favorable among tuners and weekend warriors for its ability to yield higher horsepower ratings without forcing you to shell out big time on normal race gas. In fact, the E85 actually has a higher octane rating, equal to anywhere between 100 and 105, and features a faster, more efficient burn and flame propagation. E85’s traits carry a whole heap of performance buffs, such as burning cooler, reducing engine temperatures to mitigate knock (premature detonation), allowing compression ratios to be increased thanks to the lessened likelihood of knock, and allowing turbocharged cars to spool marginally faster due to faster burns creating exhaust gases sooner.

All that jargon sounds like a win, win, win! And it should, theoretically, be a win for those running E85. Or at least on dyno days, like the videos embedded at the end.

Debunking flex fuel myths and explaining real cons

Yes, it was very much a concern that E85 was bad for fuel systems, and it’s very much the truth that it’s not the most practical fuel out there for a number of reasons. So, let’s take a quick dive into what’s actually wrong with E85 and what old-timey myths we can dispel to irrelevancy.

First, the real cons:

• It’s not as widespread at gas stations. Yes, you’re right. Not every gas station has it, and E85 is more common in some states and cities than others. In some places, it’s as easy as traveling to a nearby pump, whereas in others, it’s probably better to buy what you need and store it as you probably won’t find another E85 pump after that. Speaking of storing it.

• It’s hard to store long-term, as ethanol can attract water, not only diluting the fuel but posing serious risks of rust and water vapors damaging fuel system components if left to sit. J.D. Power also notes that E85 can sit for anywhere between one to three months due to the fuel being likely to oxidize and lose combustibility over time. Compare that to three to six months for regular gasoline and roughly a year or more for diesel.

• Old cars don’t really like it. There’s a reason some gas stations, such as Maverick, offer totally pure, ethanol-free gasoline. It’s friendlier to classic rides. Ethanol, being an alcohol, is an anti-lubricant and can dry out and damage materials in older fuel systems. On top of all that, they’re trickier to tune for E85 if the car is carbureted, as the carb has to be rejetted every time you swap fuel types.

• While it’s a cleaner, cooler burning fuel, it’s actually not as power-dense as gasoline, meaning you need to use more of it to make meaningful gains. Sources range from 10% to 33% loss in power density, meaning your fuel economy dips down just as much to compensate since your ECU will adjust to expend more fuel. Colleagues who ran flex fuel in their tuned Scion FR-Ss and Toyota 86s did indeed see power gains at the expense of 3 to 4 mpg during regular driving. 

Now, the myths: 

Perhaps this is one big overarching myth. The notion that E85 is a dangerously corrosive and volatile fuel is a load of crap. Sort of. The alcohol content can dry out suboptimal materials in older or ill-equipped cars and leave a varnish on metal components, but it’s not going to eat away at your fuel system, cause it to blow up, or suddenly chew a hole in your tank. High-ethanol fuel is frequently confused with ethanol race fuels, which can have corrosive additives in them, relegating them to only short-term uses such as racing, or methanol, which actually is far more corrosive than ethanol.

While ethanol may not have been as safe in older vehicles, it’s widely regarded that most modern cars are more than capable of handling higher-ethanol blends. There’s at least a 10% blend of ethanol in regular pump gas, anyway. The high alcohol content can even function as a fuel cleaner, clearing out deposits from lines and injectors, similar to SeaFoam, which also has a high alcohol content. Now, that doesn’t mean go run E85 in your car right now, as you still need a tune for your computer to know what to do with the higher octane rating.

Make sure your car is tuned. Make sure your vehicle is equipped to handle it with the right sensors and modern, resilient components. And if you’re still concerned, the popular safeguard for peace of mind is typically one or two tanks of regular, top-quality pump gas a month.

Another fun fact. It’s also been noted that OEM flex fuel systems are less than stellar at running on E85. Introducing flex fuel into their mainstream cars was a bit of an afterthought and a way for manufacturers to get federal credits following the passage of the Alternative Motor Fuels Act in 1988. Interestingly, it’s akin to how late 2000s and early 2010s EVs were nothing more than mere “compliance cars” whose sole purpose of existing was to literally just exist for the company’s benefit in the wake of strict regional emissions and fuel economy laws.

Installing the hardware

After a quick stop at a speed shop I used to work at to snag a flex fuel kit for a bargain, I was on my way to meet a friend, who reassuringly performed these installs numerous times before. It was my off day over an extended New Year’s holiday weekend. I was on my merry way to see a friend for a quick garage hangout/install job. What could go wrong?

See, I can say that because it already happened. So there’s nothing to jinx. Right?

Thankfully, the BRZ/GR86 platform is as spacious inside as ever, with a wide-open engine bay allowing for easy access for damn near anything (except spark plugs). As my mechanic friend explained to me, all the work needed for the hardware would take place solely near the driver-side shock tower. So, as for what the installation entails.

I kid you not. It was as quick as letting the fuel system sit so it could depressurize a bit, opening the lines so we could install the new lines from the kit, and feeding those new lines into the flex fuel sensor that sat nice and pretty beneath the base of the strut tower brace.

Bam. Easy. And we only spilled a little bit of fuel after impatiently starting before the system could depressurize further. Oh, and when removing the strut tower brace to install the flex fuel sensor beneath it, we may have dropped a piece of hardware that braces against the master cylinder to keep it from moving under hard braking. It doesn’t thread into anything. It simply sits atop a threaded stud, and the pressure of threading the stud into the strut tower brace pins it against the master cylinder. When you relieve the pressure to remove the brace, it simply falls into the abyss of the engine bay, never to escape because there’s a skid plate underneath from the factory.

Thank you, Cusco, and thank you, Subaru. Very cool. So now what would’ve been a 20-minute install extended to nearly 45 as we busted out ye ol’ jack and a magnet tool to fish for this piece of the Cusco master cylinder brace from under and on top of the car. It was a humorously stupid and frustrating endeavor that finally ended in success after shaking a car a bunch, then jacking up one side with the wheel cranked to full lock so we could reach from inside the wheel well. 

Hey, we did it, didn’t we? And in the end, we installed the kit. Er, actually, my friend did. Thanks, Kaleb. A Bluetooth module included with the kit mounts near the firewall and lets me read the current ethanol level via a phone app, which, on pump gas, was a whopping, dyno-breaking, tire-shredding…

7%. I’ll take it!

Tune coming soon!

No. There’s no tune at the time of writing. But there will be! And you bet I’ll be back to report on my findings once I get this sucker all pumped up with corn juice. Most tuners expect gains of anywhere between 20 to 30 horsepower on this FA24 flat-four engine with E85 alone, and there are plenty of dyno videos that can back those claims. Will I count myself lucky? We shall see.

Knowing my luck, I wouldn’t be surprised if a piano falls on this car a day after the tune file comes in my email inbox. But fingers crossed. May the Car Gods, please, for the love of all that’s internally combustible, bless me with the same power gains these lucky lads below have experienced.

Liar Liar, Tesla is on fire! Earlier in the week, the EPA forced Tesla to reduce the range estimates the automaker wanted to advertise for six of its vehicles by an average of 3%. The Model Y Long Range is down to 310 miles from 330, and the Model Y Performance is down to 285 miles from 303. Somehow, Tesla managed to beat the guy who crashed his cybertruck.

And the EPA has caught Tesla before! In 2022, the EPA claimed that Tesla CEO Elon Musk exaggerated the 400-mile range for the Tesla Model S Long Range. He just brushed this off. In October 2023, the Department of Justice began probing these overestimated numbers. Let’s not forget the massive Tesla autopilot safety recall earlier this year.

The range issue

According to Reuters reporter Steve Seckler, Tesla has been rigging their range-estimating software. At full battery, it will give the advertised driving range projection; when the battery falls below 50% of its maximum charge, the algorithm will show drivers more realistic predictions for their remaining driving range. 

All five Tesla models tested by Edmunds failed to achieve their advertised range, the website reported in February 2021. All but one of ten other models from other manufacturers exceeded their advertised range. However, take this with a grain of salt and note that Edmund’s testing methods may differ from other publications, such as Motor Trend, which recently conducted its own range comparison test and yielded different results. While no vehicle under Motor Trend’s watch beat their estimates, the one Model 3 they lined up was a back-of-the-pack finisher with a considerable 100-mile gap between its real-world result and EPA estimate.

This range scandal comes off the back of Tesla blaming parts failures on drivers, being fined $2.2 million in South Korea for cold weather range overestimation, and recalling 1.62 million vehicles in China.

The cover-up

Tesla’s sales numbers have obliterated all other EV manufacturers for as long as we can remember. Tesla delivered 1.3 million cars in 2022 and about 1.81 million by the end of 2023. 

More vehicles mean more servicing, so Tesla outsourced remote diagnostics to “virtual team members” in Las Vegas.

One current Tesla “Virtual Service Advisor” described part of his job in his LinkedIn profile: “Divert customers who do not require in-person service.” After a Tesla app update, customers complaining about the range could no longer book service appointments. Instead, they got little tips on the issue — everything to divert customers from the problem.

It’s a new year, and the seemingly endless drumbeat of news around EV tax credit changes continues. New rules went into effect on January 1, changing the tax credit eligibility criteria yet again and drastically reducing the number of qualifying vehicles. At the same time, the updated rules now allow for a point-of-sale discount instead of waiting for a year-end credit. Here’s what you need to know.

First, the good news: The $3,750 and $7,500 EV tax credits can now be applied at the time of the sale rather than as a year-end tax credit. That will knock a significant chunk off the sticker price of a new EV purchase, including many 2024 Tesla models, and it alleviates the issue some people experience of not having enough of a tax burden to get the whole credit. 

The bad news is that the number of new EVs qualifying for tax credits in early 2024 is much smaller than it was last year. Changes in the rules prioritize battery materials and components from North America, and cars with battery materials from a “foreign entity of concern” won’t qualify. While there are likely many foreign entities the U.S. government is concerned with, in this case, we’re talking mainly about China.

The list of qualifying vehicles includes:

• 2022-2023 Chevrolet Bolt EUV: $7,500
• 2022-2023 Chevrolet Bolt EV: $7,500
• 2022-2024 Pacifica PHEV: $7,500
• 2022-2024 Ford Escape PHEV: $3,750
• 2022-2024 Ford F-150 Lightning (Standard and Extended Range): $7,500
• 2022-2024 Jeep Grand Cherokee 4xe: $3,750
• 2022-2024 Jeep Wrangler 4xe: $3,750
• 2022-2024 Lincoln Corsair Grand Touring: $3,750
• 2023-2024 Rivian R1S Dual and Quad Large: $3,750
• 2023-2024 Rivian R1T Dual Large and Max: $3,750
• 2023-2024 Tesla Model 3 Performance: $7,500
• 2023-2024 Tesla Model X Long Range: $7,500
• 2023-2024 Tesla Model Y AWD and Performance: $7,500
• 2024 Tesla Model Y RWD: $7,500

Dealers have to register with the IRS to issue instant discounts, so it’s a good idea to reach out to your local store if you’re interested in stacking that tantalizing lease deal with a respectable government kickback. Additionally, while the list of qualifying vehicles is short now, automakers have to file documentation that proves their vehicles’ eligibility, so the number of models will grow as more companies submit their paperwork.

The year is 2003. You’re six years old, staring out the window in the backseat while the rest of your family piles into Mom’s Toyota Camry. As the car begins to leave the driveway, you overhear your parents workshopping what they’ll say when you arrive at the car dealership, where the plan is to ditch the cramped sedan for something with more space to stretch our legs, a larger vehicle that can seat five or six passengers instead of just four. Were it two decades later, maybe you’d soon find yourself in the second row of a 2024 Mazda CX-90 PHEV. But it’s the aughts – a time when gas is cheap and climate activisim is for tree huggers!

When your sister was born at the dawn of the millennium, your parents knew deep down it wouldn’t be long before cribs and diapers turned to pool parties, Scout meetings, dance lessons, and baseball games. Before highchairs and strollers became awkward first dates and driver’s tests. As such, your parents close their eyes, take a deep breath, and reluctantly agree: It’s time for a minivan. A sliding door, cheeto-stained, take-the-kids-to-soccer-practice minivan. In 2003, a minivan driver is that dilapidated lettuce wilting in the garden, scorched by the ultraviolet rays of a Ford Windstar.

2024 Mazda CX-90: Learn more at CarGurus

As reality sets in, your parents are interrupted by a salesman pointing them in another direction. What’s this? He’s showing them a newer class of vehicle, one which can fit the same number of occupants as a minivan, but with sportier styling, raised suspension, and four-wheel drive. Of course, I’m talking about the family SUV. Little did we know it would fundamentally transform the automotive industry for the next 20-plus years. 

The PHEV (plug-in hybrid electric vehicle) version of the 2024 Mazda CX-90 showcases not only how the SUV has changed since that day we drove off the lot in a new – ahem, Eddie Bauer Edition – Ford Explorer, but how the rest of the world has changed around it. Shaped by pointless geopolitical conflict, the growing popularity of the climate movement, and phrases like “economic uncertainty” floating around as if the economy had ever been certain, the CX-90 is a reverse time capsule into an idealized version of the future, one in which younger generations can afford to have passengers, let alone a new third-row SUV to put them in.

Skip to section:

• Price and specs
• EV Range and MPG
• Design and tech
• Performance
• Final thoughts

Pricing and specs overview

In Mazda’s defense, the CX-90 is far from the worst offender in the arms race upmarket, and it’s certainly not responsible for the financial misfortunes of the millennial generation nor its successors. When adjusted for inflation, the mild-hybrid Mazda CX-90 is more affordable to start than its predecessor, the CX-9, was 10 years ago. That means you can take home a no-frills base model CX-90 for $39,595 assuming your dealer has one in stock or you can wait months for a factory order to arrive. Meanwhile, the Mazda CX-90 PHEV starts at $49,945 – over $10K more! What gives?

While I haven’t driven the plugless hybrid Mazda CX-90, nor has anyone else at Acceleramota, it’s worth noting that the cheaper CX-90 packs an extra pair of pistons. Under the hood of this cordless commuter is an inline-six-cylinder, the first of its kind for Mazda, turbocharged to make 280 horsepower in the Turbo Select, Turbo Preferred, Turbo Preferred Plus, and Turbo Premium variants. Stick with me now, because, for some godforsaken reason, Mazda sells the CX-90 in 11 different trim levels. But to keep it simple, I like to think of the CX-90 as three separate models with each offered in a few vaguely distinct flavors. They are as follows: Mazda CX-90 Turbo (no, not that one), Mazda CX-90 Turbo S (not that one either), and Mazda CX-90 PHEV (yes, this one). Got it? Good!

Both the CX-90 Turbo ($39,595+) and the CX-90 Turbo S ($51,750+) use the same 3.3-liter turbocharged e-Skyactiv G engine. However! Whereas the five CX-90 Turbo trims make 280 horsepower and 332 pound-feet of torque, the three CX-90 Turbo S make 340 horsepower and 369 pounds of torque through the magic of high-octane fuel tuning. The caveat is that while the Turbo models were designed to run on cheaper 87-octane gas, Mazda recommends 93-octane for the Turbo S. That’s an extra ten grand and some change for a slightly faster 0-60 time and shinier, machine-cut wheels. Barring the unlikely event that you’re hauling your oversized grocery getter to a racetrack, it’s safe to say the standard Turbo is the better value for most people. But it’s not necessarily the best. For some, the Mazda CX-90 PHEV is the answer.

Base price:	$49,945
As-tested price:	$51,795
Engine:	2.5-liter e-Skyactiv G four-cylinder + 68kW electric motor
Transmission:	8-speed automatic
Drivetrain:	All-wheel drive
Power:	323 hp @6,000 rpm
Torque:	369 lb-ft @ 4,000 rpm
Weight:	5,243 lbs
0-60 mph:	6.2 seconds
MPG:	24 mpg city, 27 mpg highway,
MPGe:	56 MPGe
Observed MPG:	24.4 mpg
Fuel capacity:	18.5 gallons

From the outset of 2024, more than 7,000 dealerships registered with the IRS will offer point-of-sale tax rebates to EV buyers – and, yes, some plug-in hybrids count. Better yet, if you prefer to lease, Mazda will knock $7,500 off your bill without jumping through hoops to find a participating dealer. That brings the effective base price of a new Mazda CX-90 PHEV down from $49,945 to $42,225, making the PHEV a much more compelling proposition. To make up the remaining difference, only the CX-90 PHEV comes standard with a power moonroof and heated seats made from real leather. 
Now it’s a matter of which is more compatible with your lifestyle: a turbocharged straight-six with an e-assist mild hybrid system or a naturally aspirated four-cylinder backed by a 68-kW electric motor powered by a 17.8-kWh battery. I’ll let you decide.

Electric range and fuel economy

Straddling the fence between the lower fuel cost of the Turbo and the refined performance of the Turbo S, the plug-in hybrid Mazda CX-90 is for the crowd that wants fast and frugal. At least under the right conditions. Sure, you’ll still need to fill it up with premium to make the most of your ride, but the idea is to offset that cost by scarcely burning fuel at all. 

In EV mode, a small 17.8-kWh lithium-ion battery pack located under the floor powers the 68-kilowatt electric motor found in the transmission tunnel for up to 26 miles without ever firing up the engine. In Normal mode, where the engine and electric motor work in tandem, that range is less predictable since it fluctuates based on road conditions and your own individual driving patterns and behaviors. In other words, no I cannot conclusively tell you for a fact you’ll see anything close to the equivalent of 56 mpg as the EPA’s MPGe estimate suggests because it’s entirely contingent on when, where, and how you drive.

In line with most plug-in hybrid SUVs of its stature, Mazda says it takes 11 hours with a standard 120-volt (Level 1) outlet or 2 hours and 20 minutes using a 240-volt (Level 2) electrical setup. I’m quoting Mazda on those figures because my best bet for EV charging was one of two dual-port FLO units a 20-minute drive from my apartment on a street that apparently served as the unofficial meetup spot for gas cars with their hazard lights on and ineptly parked Teslas keeping the second, unused cable at each station just enough out of reach to be infuriating.

For the record, I’m a recent convert to the philosophy popularized by Toyota that plug-in hybrids are a fast track to harm reduction. It’s just that the benefits – financial, environmental, or otherwise – only come into play for the owners who commit to a habitual charging routine. When the battery dies in a full BEV (battery-electric vehicle) like a Tesla Model Y or Ford Mach-E, the car won’t move. That a plug-in hybrid is drivable indefinitely without ever actually plugging it in is a double-edged sword. On one hand, range anxiety is all but assuaged. On the other, the Mazda CX-90 PHEV averaged 24.4 mpg during my weeklong excursion without charging access. That isn’t far off from the 25 mpg combined estimated by the EPA for ostensibly gas-guzzling sixer gets. Given the choice, without a home charging solution, I personally would go for the inline-six, if only because it sounds like this.

Curiously, you never really have to plug in a plug-in hybrid. That’s as true for the Mazda CX-90 PHEV as it is for our Alfa Romeo Tonale. Because the battery ran out of juice in our press car not long after escaping the city to take photos for this review, and I didn’t have 140 minutes of downtime to let it sip, the Mazda CX-90 PHEV averaged 24.4 mpg throughout my weeklong excursion. Meanwhile, the EPA rates its ostensibly gas-chugging, six-cylinder cousin at a commensurate 25 mpg combined. Go figure! Still, for the homeowner with a commute shorter than 26 miles and a place to charge while you’re at work, you could get away with never spending a dime on gas most days. Because it’s used in EV mode more than half the time, our Tonale averaged 84 mpg this month and it’s rated for 29 mpg or 77 MPGe combined. Whether or not the fuel savings justify the premium for the PHEV is on you.

Design, interior, and infotainment

For a full-size crossover SUV, the Mazda CX-90 carries an outstanding road presence. It sits high on your pick of 19- or 20-inch wheels with a wide, imposing stance. The roofline slopes back across an aerodynamic coupe-like frame. And its front fascia, characterized by angry headlights and a bold, assertive grille to match, lets you know it means business. I only wish our loaner came in that fierce artisan red Mazda uses in most of its marketing for the CX-90. The design is a subtle but effective step up from that of the CX-9.

When you open the door to the Mazda CX-90, the inside makes one hell of a first impression, regardless of spec. As you can see from the photos, the cabin emanates a level of ambient grandeur more impressive than that of a new BMW X7, if only because it defies expectations. For most, “upscale” isn’t the first word that comes to mind when you bring up Mazda. But that perception is changing, in large part because its ostentatious interiors punch above their weight, presenting a clean minimalist aesthetic, complete with faux woodgrain accents, abundant LED lighting, ventilated seats with adjustable lumbar support, and the gratuitous touch of a leather-wrapped shift knob – because why the hell not?

Inside and out clear Mazda is reinventing itself as an entry-level luxury brand, and the CX-90 PHEV fills the space somewhere between the Toyota Grand Highlander Hybrid and the Lexus TX. In fact, as far as plug-in hybrids go, until the 2024 Hyundai Santa Fe PHEV drops this spring, the CX-90 PHEV’s closest rival might very well be the Chrysler Pacifica. That’s right, the minivan. But compared to the Pacifica, the Grand Highlander, or the Honda Pilot for that matter, one of the CX-90’s undeniable shortcomings is its cramped third row, and by extension, limited cargo space. With the second and third row folded down, its 75.2 cubic feet of space pales in comparison to the 140.5 cubic feet of the Chrysler Pacifica, and it doesn’t fare much better next to the Grand Highlander’s 97.5 cubic feet. Although I could fit plenty of gear in the back, I also don’t have kids or friends. At full occupancy, the 14.9 cubic feet left with all of the seats up won’t leave much room for luggage on family road trips.

Also polarizing, at least for anyone with a preference for touchscreens, is the Mazda Connect infotainment system you’ll find on the CX-90 PHEV’s modest 10.25-inch center display. As is the case for the rest of Mazda’s lineup, navigating the proprietary software involves twisting a rotary dial around in the center console instead of tapping the screen directly. My current car and the one before that both took the same approach, and both manufacturers abandoned the dial with subsequent models. Because they were wrong. I’m with Mazda on this one, the rotary dial is a safety feature more than anything, no matter what my friend Adam said. Once you get used to it, you’ll see how much easier it is to keep your eyes on the road while adjusting your music or setting a Google Maps destination in your periphery than trying to do so on a touchscreen. That said, if you insist on being wrong (like Adam), the top CX-90 PHEV Premium Plus trim has a larger 12.3-inch display that supports touch controls for Apple CarPlay and Android Auto.

Overall, Mazda Connect as an operating system is mostly inoffensive, even if I do prefer Android Automotive and Stellantis’s Android-derived Uconnect. Other than Apple CarPlay, which took some time digging under several layers of submenus, I had no problems flipping through settings to customize driver assistance preferences, manage Bluetooth connections, and fine-tune my sound profile to make my “Music to Flex To” playlist go hard on the Bose Centerpoint audio system. Seriously, from the acoustics to the bass, the upgraded 12-speaker surround sound casts a wide soundstage that one-ups some cars I’ve driven that cost twice as much as the Mazda CX-90 PHEV (looking at you, Maserati Grecale Trofeo). 

Performance and powertrain

Apart from the charging logistics, which evidently isn’t one-size-fits-all, the Mazda CX-90 does straddle the fence between the cheaper fuel demands of the Mazda CX-90 Turbo trims and the speed advantage of the Turbo S. Even though its 323 horsepower and 369 pound-feet of torque fall short of the Turbo S and despite clocking in at over 5,000 pounds, the CX-90 PHEV’s impressive hybridized innards gave it the boost it needed to beat out the straight-six in every speed run conducted by Car and Driver. More horsepower and less weight don’t cut it when the PHEV’s electric motor pushes 199 pound-feet of torque at just 400 rpm.

The plug-in hybrid (PHEV) version of the 2024 Mazda CX-90 is one of the finer examples of a company working within those parameters to make a truly great capital ‘S’ SUV – that is, a three-row unibody truck as suitable for hauling groceries as it is cornering on sharp turns or taking offroad, all from a four-cylinder engine married to a small electric motor. From what I’ve seen of the engineers who worked on it, there’s an unexpected sense of fervent passion for the project woven into the soul of the CX-90. As chunky as it is, it really does drive like a sports sedan. The steering is balanced – not too light nor too heavy – and somehow it feels nimble. As long as you don’t mind the bumpy ride that occasionally accompanies its raw sportscar-like suspension, the CX-90 can be a blast to drive, especially when thrown into sport mode.

By flicking up and down the Mi-Drive switch in the center console, you can alternate between four drive modes, each with its own intended purpose: 

• Sport mode combines the full power of the engine and electric motor for faster acceleration 
• EV mode uses only the electric motor for zero-emission driving but greatly reduces performance
• Normal mode offers a balanced mix of electric and gas as needed
• Off-road mode improves traction so you don’t spin out or fall off a cliff
• Towing mode adjust gearing and power delivery for pulling stuff

One glaring drawback to choosing the CX-90 PHEV is its inferior 3,500-pound tow limit. For comparison, the standard CX-90 can pull up to 5,000 pounds at most trim levels. Hamstrung towing capacities are a common, longstanding complaint among PHEV critics. When my dad and I were shopping around on CarGurus to replace his Ford Ranger with a more fuel-efficient SUV capable of towing at least 2.5 tons, I was aghast at how sparse the selection was with a budget in the $50K range, especially for third rows. Sadly, for that reason, the CX-90 PHEV didn’t make the cut. The Jeep Grand Cherokee 4xe did.

New Mazdas: see prices at CarGurus

Final thoughts

As someone with no kids and no friends living in a city with convenient access to public transit, the Mazda CX-90 is excessive. As someone who appreciates any vehicle that’s quick around corners, the Mazda CX-90 is shockingly fun to drive. Unfortunately, I’m not convinced the person shopping for a third-row SUV cares as much about gear ratios and steering weight as they do cargo space and comfort. With the CX-90, Mazda took a series of bold risks, most of which no one asked for. As a three-row crossover SUV that looks more expensive than it is, it would have sold on that merit alone. 

The CX-90 is interesting, if imperfect, in a segment overrun with vehicles as indistinguishable on the outside as they are under the hood. Just as Mazda didn’t need to build a new six-cylinder architecture from the ground up for this, it also didn’t have to make that same vehicle its first mainstream plug-in hybrid. But I’m glad it did. Because while that third row of seats is as tight as the suspension, it makes good on the promise of the sport utility vehicle: to combine fun and function in a vehicle big enough to fit a family while being less boring than a minivan. You can’t make an SUV that handles like this without some trade-offs. Provided its aggressive styling and athletic performance are enough to sacrifice a few inches of legroom, the Mazda CX-90 is a strong contender for the best SUV in its class. 

Whether the straight-six or the plug-in hybrid is the more cost-effective option mostly comes down to your living situation. Unless you have access to home charging, the fuel savings will almost certainly not be worth the cost and inconvenience of public charging. When I’m getting around 25 mpg either way, I’d rather have a turbocharger and a guttural exhaust note. But maybe I’m just built different.

Buying an EV might be the most talked-about subject in car ownership of the past several years. We have a whole features section dedicated to explaining the darn things. And it makes sense: Between automakers introducing new models seemingly every day, legislation pushing hard for a zero-emission future, and all corners of society weighing in across the greater internet, it’ll definitely be a high-up heading in history books that describe the early 2020s.

When it comes to how we transport ourselves around our vast planet, there’s a lot to be excited for in EV ownership, as well as growing EV ownership across the greater populace. Then, there may be some preconceived notions about EVs that should be addressed. 

But there are still some actual downsides that we certainly can’t overlook. So let’s discuss it all: here are five myths about EVs, debunked, as well as five actual downsides. Depending on how these affect your own lifestyle could either sway you towards EV ownership or keep you away. What’s most important, however, is to have the knowledge to make the right choice. Let’s get into it.

Myth: EVs take too long to charge

Let’s start the list off with an easy one. Or, tricky one, depending on how you look at it. There are basically three charging levels that affect charging speed: Level 1 (120V), Level 2 (240V), and Level 3, also known as DC-fast charging. The higher the level, the faster the charge, and the exact charging speed varies quite a bit depending on each EV’s factory specifications—some charge at Level 2 faster than others, some make full use of a DC-fast charger’s rates while others don’t—so comparing and contrasting these on your list of potential EV purchases is important.

But let’s focus on DC-fast charging, as that’s what guarantees the quickest charging time. So far, technology’s achieved the ability to charge at as many as 350 kW, which, if fully taken advantage of, could add 200 miles of range to a modern EV in as little as 15 minutes. 

Key part of that claim: If fully taken advantage of—DC-fast charging is limited by the vehicle’s own charging system. If its maximum charging rate is 100 kW, that’s the ceiling—energy is flowing at less than a third of the charging station’s capability, so it’ll take longer than a quarter of an hour. We’ll discuss more about this in a future, separate post, but 100 kW is generally considered low for modern EVs as most charge at 200 kW or more. As technology progresses, the floor will rise, and we may soon reach a point where 15 minutes is considered awfully long.

Then, if 15 to 30 minutes for charging seems like a long time, it doesn’t necessarily have to have a major impact on one’s lifestyle. With new charging stations cropping up all over, it could be a matter of regaining a couple days’ worth of range while paying a visit to the grocery store or running any other normal, everyday errand.

Myth: EVs don’t have enough range to cover my daily travel

According to the Department of Transportation, most American households travel under 100 miles per day. Most EVs can go at least 200 miles in between charging, with more and more exceeding 300 miles hitting dealership lots what seems like every month—it’s easier than ever to accommodate EV ownership into one’s daily life.

If your household doesn’t have charging at home, such as in an apartment or house without the appropriate electrical service, making some changes to your daily schedule may not be that bad. Sure, anyone who doesn’t have at-home charging will be faced with an “Oh shoot, I’ve only got 20 miles of range left and need way more than that for tomorrow” type of scenario, but a little preparation could go a long way.

Myth: EVs aren’t fun to drive

As an avowed performance driving and motorsports enthusiast, it’s indeed quite hard to beat an internal combustion engine with an entertaining torque curve and awesome soundtrack. 

But here’s the thing: Almost all EVs have their weight down low in the chassis and in between the front and rear axles, which bodes quite well for overall handling dynamics. Electric motors produce instant torque, too, so they’re inherently quite fast off the line and fun to wring out in many different scenarios. These make ripping around in EVs quite fun indeed.

Then, manufacturers are coming up with clever ways to simulate conventional drivetrains and the driving characteristics that they can achieve, such as the 2024 Audi SQ8 e-tron being driftable. Or, utilizing regen to simulate downshifts. Then, Hyundai utilizing a fake soundtrack in its Ioniq 5 N may sound cheesy, but you can’t fault the brand’s willingness to try—I bet it’s more fun than you think.

Myth: EV manufacturing negates the positive environmental impacts of driving an EV

This one is a little complicated, and everyone loves to quote Jeremy Clarkson’s bit about the Toyota Prius from, like, 15 years ago. And yes, modern mining and shipping practices made battery production bad. Like, really bad. From excess emissions and fumes to the copious use of water in places that, uh, didn’t quite have a lot to begin with. But technology’s made good headway since then. Only way to go is up, right?

While the manufacturing of EV components—particularly the battery—does have its own greenhouse gas emissions (GHG) to factor in, the EPA details that between the lifecycle of an ICE car and an EV with at least 300 miles of battery range, the former has far higher GHG emissions.

We’ll save the geopolitical aspects of mining rare earth metals for electric motor production for another post. Generally, meaningful progress has been made in reducing these, such as manufacturers pivoting away from certain rare metals, as well as sourcing the other main ingredient, lithium, from domestic sources. Heck, one of our planet’s possibly largest lithium reserves is just a bit east of San Diego.

Myth: Charging EVs will put too much stress on America’s power grid

This is definitely a valid concern. But it’s important to keep in mind—once again, according to the EPA—that charging can happen at off-peak hours at home. Meaning, you’ve just gotten home for the night and plugged in your Fiat 500e to your home’s 240V service to charge overnight.

Not only that, but the EPA even sources Scientific American to say that California’s more than one million EVs account for less than one percent of the grid’s load during peak energy hours. Our nation’s energy grid is constantly being upgraded, too, so hopefully, energy blackouts will become a thing of the past if the government is smart about it (so far, it seems like it’s generally on the right track).

In short, while the details of this point can be a bit complicated, the answer is yes, EVs will be just fine on the American power grid, and industry employees are optimistic about their capabilities to ensure that.

Downside: EVs aren’t the funnest to drive

This is certainly subjective, but I know I’m not alone: EVs are fun to hoon around, but they still don’t hold a candle to an ICE vehicle. Especially if its engine is sporting some enthusiastic tuning, forced induction or not.

I won’t wax poetic too hard, but there truly is something special about the theatrical soundtrack of internal combustion in fun scenarios, such as a fun, curvy road or ripping laps on the track. Or, launching it off the line when the conditions are right. I mean, it’s one of the main reasons why I got into this industry, as well as why my list of next cars is chock-full of vivacious, big-smile-inducing sports cars.

It’s really cool that automakers are starting to synthesize some of this and integrate it into EVs, but they sure have a long way to go.

Downside: Charging infrastructure can really suck

If charging infrastructure just isn’t all that great where you live, and you aren’t able to charge at home, it may indeed be a good idea to pass on EV ownership until it improves. It’s more important to safely and reliably transport you and/or your family, get to and from work, go about your daily life, etc. than stretch your schedule and work a little too hard to make EV ownership work. It’s all about balance, and sacrificing what you deem to be too much will only make life more inconvenient in the end.

It’s tough for many folks just dealing with a lengthy commute to and from work every day. Why tack on an additional 15 minutes to an hour—assuming there’s an open, functioning charger waiting for you—when all you want to do is not be in a car anymore?

Charging infrastructure can suck in other ways, too, like broken/out-of-order chargers, inconsiderate jerks hogging charging spots when they aren’t charging, dealing with, like, twenty different charging companies’ apps, and more.

Downside: EVs are heavy

This is a byproduct of our current lithium battery technology, and it doesn’t bode well for handling, tire wear, brake wear, and our poor crumbling infrastructure. As well as our parking garages. It doesn’t help that SUVs and trucks are very much en vogue, either.

Hopefully, as battery technology progresses, this quickly becomes a thing of the past. Go, solid-state, go!

Downside: EVs are still expensive

According to Kelley Blue Book by way of Cox Automotive, the average new car price is right around $48,000, which is awfully expensive. Combine that with US News and World Reports’ reporting that EVs are on average $12,000 higher in price than their ICE counterparts, and things aren’t looking great for greater EV affordability.

But thanks to various federal, state, and local tax incentives for both new and used models, the price starts to tumble a tad.

In addition to some upfront relief, technology is always evolving, and technology-heavy EVs are no exception; As new tech becomes more and more common, prices will go down. Especially when it comes to the cost of manufacturing batteries. Then, we have to keep in mind that EVs’ running costs are overall cheaper, which helps ease financial pain after any initial sticker shock.

Downside: What about OBD II?

OBD II (not ODB II, which you could say is actually YDB) stands for Onboard Diagnostics II, the standardized system used by all automakers to help troubleshoot a vehicle’s issues. Meaning, the check engine light comes on, you use an OBD II scanner to see why, and the ECU tells you a diagnostic trouble code (DTC)—or a massive list of ‘em—to help you pinpoint what’s wrong.

Currently, not all EVs possess a system like OBD II; after all, according to this story over at Ars Technica, a lot of the reason why it was originally developed was to monitor and reduce tailpipe emissions, which EVs don’t have. Still, onboard diagnostics cover a lot more than that, and a new system dubbed Advanced Clean Cars II by the California Air Resources Board (CARB) will require a new standardized system for EVs, PHEVs, and hydrogen-fueled cars by 2026, which could end up being adopted at the federal level.

Pun very much intended, there are positives and negatives to battery-powered car ownership. While some may require a little (or a lot) of adaptation, one thing’s for certain: As EV technology moves forth, the myths will be more extinguished from our greater society’s psyche, and some (or all) of the downsides will no longer be downsides.

The Tesla Cybertruck is almost more of a meme than an actual vehicle at this point, which makes any incident involving the angular chunk of stainless steel a real treat for the company’s critics. A Reddit user posted pictures of the most recent incident – a crash in California – and while it’s still likely to generate chuckles, we’re glad that nobody got seriously hurt. Now, with this incident out there for the general public to see, we have our first real-world look at that steel wedge’s ability to protect occupants from damage (and deal some damage itself).

The Verge found the post by u/boddhya and confirmed the story with the California Highway Patrol, which could be the first in-the-wild crash for the truck. Officials said a 17-year-old in a Toyota Corolla veered off the road and hit an embankment before over-correcting, re-entering the road, and striking the Cybertruck. 

Though the Corolla looks particularly gnarly in the Reddit images, the only injury was to the Cybertruck driver and did not require medical care. Tesla’s “bulletproof” pickup appears to have come out of the crash in much better shape than the Toyota, though we don’t have much information to go on.

With all due respect (sort of), Tesla’s owners are among the most zealous of any brand’s drivers for better or worse, but this is one time where the other person appears to be at fault. The Cybertruck driver was allegedly not using an autonomous driving mode at the time of the crash, and the roads in the Palo Alto area where the collision occurred are notoriously curvy, with poor visibility being a significant issue. 

The Cybertruck’s brutal shape and sharp angles raised many safety questions over the damage it could cause to other vehicles and people. Early critics call out the truck’s thick stainless steel “exoskeleton” as being too rigid and more dangerous in a crash than traditional materials. At the same time, trucks are more dangerous than cars in general, and the Tesla is still far too new to draw any solid conclusions about its overall safety. 

Hello again! No need for the triple-shot espresso and the phonebook-sized notepad, as today’s chapter of EVs Explained will be far more straightforward – I hope. Today’s field trip is through the ascending levels of autonomous driving and what goes into these purported self-driving cars. Let’s talk about what really defines each level of vehicle autonomy, what tech goes into them, and what examples of modern cars use such new-age technology.

Love or hate it, we’re entering a bold new world of strong independent vehicles that “don’t need no damn human,” and we’re peeking at what makes them tick. Or rather drive. 

Not so autonomous, not always electric.

Disclaimers before we kick off this first segment!

Take the use of “self-driving” and “autonomous cars” with a grain of salt, and treat them as umbrella terms. Oftentimes, such words just describe safety assists that aid in hustling you from Point A to Point B safely and conveniently. Many instances of what are considered levels of vehicle autonomy aren’t all that autonomous but more like watchful eyes, with the ratio of human-to-machine intervention shifting as we climb the ladder and add copious amounts of gadgets. 

Also, note that autonomous driving doesn’t solely encompass EVs. In fact, much of the tech used in self-driving cars debuted in ICE cars. But it’s becoming the more prominent medium through which automakers unveil these crown achievements because nothing says future more than everything-by-wire, spaceship noises, and range anxiety. 

Level 1: Driver assistance

The first stage in achieving autonomy is clearing that Level 1 hurdle, defined as semi-autonomous driver assistance that merely shares control with the driver and only to a mild extent. The electronic doo-dads exist as extra hands on deck, but you are still the ship’s captain. They’re helpers, guides, and advisors but ultimately cannot take full command. Examples include adaptive cruise control, parallel park, lane keep assist, and other useful gizmos along those lines, typically things that function off relatively basic camera and sensor-based systems.

Such gadgets have become commonplace in ordinary econoboxes over the past several years. For example, my dad’s mid-trim 2017 Toyota Tacoma had lane keep and adaptive cruise. And to be honest, they worked pretty damn well! Today, brands like Toyota and Subaru pride themselves on standard or easily available Level 1 systems like Safety Sense and Eyesight, respectively. More than a sales pitch, these systems are rapidly entering normality, now touted in just about anything, from top-shelf Mercedes and BMWs to Ford Mustangs and Subaru BRZs

Level 2: Partial automation

The next step sees improved competence with acceleration, steering, and braking based on integrated safety systems. Level 2 cars can follow lanes, come to complete stops, and accelerate to fairly lofty highway speeds. As such, Level 2 is informally dubbed a “hands-free” system. However, it’s important to know you shouldn’t take that literally, and company disclaimers will advise that drivers keep their hands on the wheel or at least be ready to resume control like a responsible adult. For instance, although the Acura Integra Type-S and MDX Type-S I previously sampled were not Level 2 cars, they did have self-lane-centering tech that almost felt as though the car could drive itself, but it’d always flash a warning at the driver every several seconds or so to return your hands to the wheel.

Oftentimes, these systems won’t take highway exits or traverse parking garages on your behalf, although some cars may be programmed to try some of those actions under your supervision. Many will at least initiate lane changes to pass slower traffic, which is kind of them. Helping guide Level 2 cars is a task that can call upon an assortment of visual cameras, radars, and other sensors to help navigate.

By SAE and NHTSA standards, Tesla’s Autopilot is a prime example of Level 2, as is GM Super Cruise and Ford BlueCruise. Cars such as the F-150 Lightning made BlueCruise famous following that truck’s expansive media coverage, as did the Cadillac CT6, Escalade, and Chevrolet Silverado for Super Cruise. Both Detroit-born systems have exponentially enhanced steering, braking, and adaptive cruise abilities beyond plain adaptive cruise control, arguably trumping Tesla Autopilot thanks to the added use of lidar, a.k.a. laser-based ranging, and GPS data. However, Tesla’s Navigate on Autopilot (a feature of Enhanced Autopilot but not Full Self-Driving) isn’t as restricted and can be activated in many off-highway locations, far outside the reach of Ford and GM, even taking highway exits should the system find it feasible at the moment.

However, engineers place parameters to encourage driver intervention in the name of occupant safety and avoiding lawsuits. That first point is totally more important to the corporate suits, by the way. Such parameters often include geofencing and cameras that trace your head and eye positions to determine driver attentiveness. 

Or, when all else fails, they can just blame it on you. Sounds like my parents.

Level 3: Conditional automation

Behold the goalpost where many automakers strive to land, but only a few have hit the mark. NHTSA defines Level 3 as real self-driving, the point where the driving aid systems can take complete control of the vehicle. This fabled new height in technology expands upon the car’s newfound ability to steer, brake, and accelerate but does so across more environments and with more liberty, theoretically allowing these cars to embark on complete journeys independently. Of course, “independently” for Level 3 still means laying watchful eyes and being ready to shut down any robot-uprising nonsense.

Although many debate the true abilities of Tesla’s Full-Self Driving, I argue it could be touted as Level 3 autonomy, expanding heavily upon Autopilot. It certainly scoots from place to place, even if it has a taste for mortal blood, and tends to sail into its fellow machines from time to time. But alas, as of late December of 2023, it’s not SAE-certified as such. Being the first certified Level 3 autonomous cars in any U.S. state is an honor bestowed to the Mercedes-Benz S-Class and EQS and their Drive Pilot system, even if it’s only in limited locations.

Impressive! But once again, I iterate that automakers necessitate driver overwatch, and the mighty Three-Pointed Star is no exception, even after earning its Good Noodle Star over its peers.

Level 4: High automation

Careful, Icarus. Now we’re really flying high.

NHTSA defines Level 4 as a system where the car can command all aspects of driving to a point where human intervention is not always necessitated. The overarching Achilles’ heel connecting Level 4 to Level 2 and Level 3 is that they’re all limited to operating within certain boundaries, unable to drive on all roads or in all weather conditions without human backup. A Level 4 system can be geofenced or kept from activating in certain situations akin to lower-tier systems such as Super Cruise or BlueCruise, but it stands taller with greater control and refinement.

In essence, it can do more within a larger playpen and even correct mistakes without our help instead of self-canceling. That latter point is a major differentiator and why some companies opt to dive straight into Level 4 development rather than work on Level 3.

So those pesky Germans may have beaten Elon’s fleet to Level 3 certification. But certainly, Level 4 is in the bag. Or so they’d think. Or so anyone would think, as Level 4 stands as the next big power play, with no current production cars certified for such technology. However, there being no certified vehicles doesn’t mean they’re not testing. And with all the work automakers put in to barely attain Level 2 and Level 3 certs, they’re being quite frank in saying it’d be a while until they set anything in stone. Mercedes claims the technology is “doable” by 2030, and Hyundai is currently testing Level 4 with Ioniq 5 mules.

Technically, if we’re counting any company and not just legacy automakers, Google’s Waymo project, now partnered with Uber, operates off what’s technically Level 4 autonomy. Their vehicles have been testing and operating as robo taxis in select cities for some time, seeing their fair share of successes and disasters in the process.

Level 5: Full automation

‘Tis the king of the hill that all auto manufacturers strive for, the stuff of video game fever dreams and sci-fi movie fantasies. Queue our inner Doug DeMuro voice.

“THIS… is a true, fully self-driving car. “

Level 5 is defined as full automation or, as NHTSA paraphrases, “–system drives, you ride.” Here lies uninhibited vehicle autonomy with the most liberal use of self-driving functions, intended to be the ultimate riding experience for occupants. Manual controls are redundant, and driver attention monitors are banished to irrelevancy. The lack of restrictions, such as geofencing, separates Level 5 from the overprotective mom, called Level 4. This highest tier of autonomous vehicles leaves the nest to achieve true self-driving in nearly any condition and on any road. Human intervention is no longer necessary.

As you can imagine, nothing outside of Cyberpunk or Watch Dogs is certified as Level 5 autonomous, and reaching this realm will take a great deal of testing, refinement, and failsafe after failsafe. Those sci-fi visions of cars navigating gridlock without steering wheels or pedals are utopian examples of what a Level 5 car can be, and programming such cars to properly respond to every little variable in real-world driving will be a hell of a feat. But an engineer can dream. And should technology press on at the rate it’s going, it’s not a far-fetched delusion to believe Level 5 will be within our grasp. But I’ll give it until 2077. 

Gather our eggs into one robo taxi.

Let’s take it from the top. Or rather, the bottom.

Level 1 is just boujee driver assistance. It’s a fairly basic and common system nowadays, imbuing many new cars with helpful nannies, including parking assist, adaptive cruise, lane keeping, and more. To learn more, please pester your local Toyota salesman. No, seriously. 

Level 2 refers to additional driver assistance by way of enhanced control over acceleration, braking, and steering. Not unrestricted, but it can take a huge load off your commute when under your watch. Many major car companies have introduced or have started introducing such systems, with Tesla’s Autopilot perhaps being the most famous (or infamous) of them all.

Level 3 equates to conditional automation, meaning the car can control itself to an even greater extent. Highway traversing or some urban jaunts are a non-issue for Level 3, so long as the driver is always at the ready to take back the helm when needed. Few cars taut Level 3, and even fewer are SAE-certified for it. 

Level 4 cars can almost care for themselves within reason and operate under a fairly strict set of parameters and in select environments. As such, drivers are optional but unnecessary, but manual control is always there as a safety net. Manufacturer testers and robo-taxi companies are currently fielding such tech.

Level 5 stands as the magnum opus autonomous vehicle engineers seek to create, a fully self-driving car with no limitations as to where it can go, completely writing the driver out of the equation. 

It makes your head spin to think how far we’ve come, huh? From parking sensors to self-driving taxis parading the streets of major cities. Yes, as I’m sure you can infer by my subtle jabs, there’s no denying this is highly controversial and dangerous tech and certainly an injury lawyer’s dream come true. And sure, some manufacturers are far better at testing than others. But it’s admirable how all strive to tame this riveting new frontier, the stuff of childhood curiosity. The skepticism it sparked is well-deserved, but witnessing how this technology evolves as we lean deeper into the automotive industry’s most polarizing era incites just as much excitement.