When cloud computing first became a thing, the benefits seemed obvious, in that you could access your data wherever you were as long as you had wifi. But as with all things involving big tech companies, they used that to draw people in before they started using it turning the screws on the customers. Cory Doctorow writes about this phenomenon is his excellent book Enshittification: Why Everything Suddenly Got Worse and What to Do About It (that I have read and will publish a review of later) and which I have written about a few times before.

This article in arstechnica looks at one particular aspect of this phenomenon as it relates to modern cars, when purchasers find that they are no longer in full control of the product.

Imagine turning the key or pressing the start button of your car—and nothing happens. Not because the battery is dead or the engine is broken but because a server no longer answers. For a growing number of cars, that scenario isn’t hypothetical.

As vehicles become platforms for software and subscriptions, their longevity is increasingly tied to the survival of the companies behind their code. When those companies fail, the consequences ripple far beyond a bad app update and into the basic question of whether a car still functions as a car.

Over the years, automotive software has expanded from performing rudimentary engine management and onboard diagnostics to powering today’s interconnected, software-defined vehicles. Smartphone apps can now handle tasks like unlocking doors, flashing headlights, and preconditioning cabins—and some models won’t unlock at all unless a phone running the manufacturer’s app is within range.

However, for all the promised convenience of modern vehicle software, there’s a growing nostalgia for an era when a phone call to a mechanic could resolve most problems. Mechanical failures were often diagnosable and fixable, and cars typically returned to the road quickly. Software-defined vehicles complicate that model: When something goes wrong, a car can be rendered inoperable in a driveway—or stranded at the side of the road—waiting not for parts but a software technician.

A friend of mine recently bought a Tesla. As he was driving along, he was rear-ended. There was no damage at all but the car simply stopped on the road and would not restart, nor could he open the doors. It took a call to the car company to get the car moving again. This is unnerving enough but it is not hard to envisage scenarios where things could be, and have been, much worse, such as where people have been trapped and died in burning Teslas because neither they nor the fire rescue teams could open the doors because the batteries that controlled them were no longer functioning.

The above arstechnica article continues:

These cases highlight a broader shift in the auto industry, where long-term ownership is increasingly dependent not just on mechanical durability but on continued access to proprietary software and manufacturer support.

“When a modern car’s software misbehaves, you don’t fix it yourself—you call the manufacturer,” said Stuart Masson, founder and editor of The Car Expert. “They control the code. At that point, you’re not dealing with a traditional service department so much as an IT help desk.”
…

Take a decade-old Tesla Model S, for example: You might snag one at a bargain price, but there’s no guarantee Tesla will continue supporting it indefinitely. When a manufacturer drops software support, the car isn’t just at risk of breaking down—it becomes a potential cybersecurity liability. In a world where vehicles are increasingly defined by their code, running unsupported software is akin to leaving your router exposed to the Internet. You may have a functioning car today, but there’s no telling when—or how—it could stop running.
…

The lesson is clear: In today’s cars, the engine or electric motor isn’t always what keeps you moving—the software does. When that software vanishes with a bankrupt company, your car can go from daily driver to expensive paperweight overnight. And in the age of software-defined vehicles, owning a car increasingly means betting on the survival of its code. When that code dies, the driveway or highway—not the repair shop—becomes the final stop.

It used to be the case that when one bought something, one really owned it and could do what one liked with it. But many electronic items are no longer really bought. You may think you are buying it but in reality you are merely renting it from the ‘seller’. I remember the first time I became aware that buying something was not the same as owning it. It was with ebooks. I recall NPR reporting how Amazon yanked back copies of books because of some dispute with the publisher.

More people are getting used to reading e-books on devices like the Sony Reader or the Amazon Kindle. Recently Kindle owners who had purchased George Orwell’s 1984 or Animal Farm had their books snatched back by Amazon when a rights issue arose. The buyers were credited their $9.99, but such a recall could never have happened with actual books.

One can find older cars on the road long after the car company has gone out of business because mechanics could fix it and find parts for it. That will no longer be the case. When one of these new car companies goes bust, their cars will become bricks.