In a shocking turn of events that has surprised absolutely no one except perhaps Elon Musk’s Mars-based publicity team, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) has announced a full federal investigation into yet another Tesla crash. Because nothing says ‘safe autonomous driving’ like a vehicular coffin on wheels piloted by a glorified toaster oven.
Details are murky, as is tradition. The incident involved a Tesla Model Something-or-Other that apparently failed to distinguish between a lorry and a large metal bird. The result: a mangled metaphor for corporate hubris and a fresh batch of paperwork for the chaps at the Department of Transport. Over here, in the land of drizzle and stoicism, the UK’s own safety guardians are now reviewing autonomous driving with the kind of grave concern usually reserved for a broken kettle.
Let’s be clear. Autopilot is a misnomer on par with calling a greased pig a ‘self-guided ham.’ It suggests a level of competence that Tesla vehicles have repeatedly failed to demonstrate. But Musk, the leather-jacketed pied piper of Silicon Valley, continues to peddle the dream of a car that drives itself while you nap. This is the same man who promised us an underwater city by 2025. I’m still waiting for my personal submarine, Elon.
The UK review is particularly precious. Our safety regulators will no doubt sit in a room the colour of beige, sip tepid tea, and write a report that manages to be both thorough and utterly impotent. They will conclude that ‘more research is needed’ into the phenomenon of cars driving into stationary objects. Groundbreaking. Next they’ll investigate whether water is wet and whether the Queen is, in fact, immortal.
Meanwhile, the electric car evangelists will continue to howl that this is a conspiracy by the oil industry. Because clearly, the only explanation for a car crashing into a clearly visible obstruction is that Big Oil has hacked the firmware. Possibly using a Ouija board.
Let’s not forget the Tesla ‘fanboys’ who treat every crash report as an attack on their personal identity. They will descend upon social media with the fury of a thousand poorly charged batteries, insisting that the driver was an idiot who ignored 47 warnings. Which may be true, but if Autopilot needs a saint behind the wheel to function, it’s not autonomous. It’s a chauffeur service with extra steps.
But I digress. The real story here is the sheer shamelessness of it all. Tesla rakes in billions, sells a product that promises Level 5 autonomy but delivers Level 2.5 delusion, and somehow the regulators are still ‘reviewing.’ How many more wreckage piles need to be stacked before someone says that maybe, just maybe, we should not trust our lives to a computer system that couldn’t pass a Turing test if the examiner was in a coma?
The answer, of course, is never. Because the future is now, and the future is a metal box that occasionally tries to kill you. But hey, at least it runs on renewable energy. So when it smashes into a wall, you can rest easy knowing that the climate wasn’t harmed. Only your spine.
In conclusion, buckle up, dear readers. Or don’t. The car might decide for you anyway.
