In a development that has sent shivers down the spines of tech utopians and boilerplate lawyers alike, Tesla finds itself in the crosshairs of a federal investigation following yet another crash that, one assumes, did not involve a dramatic re-enactment of a Michael Bay film. The US National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, a body not known for its sense of humour, has launched a probe into the incident, which occurred in the leafy lanes of suburbia where the only things typically speeding are the squirrels. But the story, like a poorly programmed autopilot, has swerved into British territory.
Regulators in the UK, still smarting from the Great Brexit 'Sat-Nav' Fiasco of 2021, have seized the opportunity to demand global safety standards for autonomous vehicles. Because nothing says 'safety' quite like a committee meeting in a drizzly room in Milton Keynes. The crash itself, details of which are as sketchy as a political manifesto, is being treated by Elon Musk's legion of fans as an irrelevance, a minor hiccup on the road to a driverless Utopia.
But to the rest of us, it's a grim reminder that the future, much like a bad bottle of gin, can be both expensive and dangerous. The British call for global standards is, of course, a masterstroke of political theatre. It allows them to appear proactive while doing absolutely nothing.
And let's be honest, the idea of a global standard for something as chaotic as autonomous driving is about as realistic as a hangover cure made from unicorn tears. But it sells papers. And it gives the MPs something to do between scandals.
As for the Tesla crash, the investigation will no doubt reveal a litany of human errors, software glitches, and perhaps a driver who was, at that moment, contemplating the meaning of life or the contents of his own colon. The car, of course, will remain silent. It will not apologise.
It will not explain. It will simply wait, like a metal deity, for its next supplicant to climb aboard and believe in the miracle of progress. But progress, dear reader, is a cruel mistress.
She promises us freedom from the tyranny of our own incompetence, yet delivers us into the hands of algorithms that are, at best, as reliable as a Conservative Party promise. And so we brace ourselves. For more crashes.
More investigations. More grandstanding from regulators who wouldn't know a real safety standard if it hit them in the face. Which, given the rate of technological advance, it might soon do, quite literally, from a self-driving car.
