1993 Ford Lightning on 2040-cars

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The next-generation wearable will be your car

This year's CES has had a heavy emphasis on the class of device known as the "wearable" – think about the Apple Watch, or Fitbit, if that's helpful. These devices usually piggyback off of a smartphone's hardware or some other data connection and utilize various onboard sensors and feedback devices to interact with the wearer. In the case of the Fitbit, it's health tracking through sensors that monitor your pulse and movement; for the Apple Watch and similar devices, it's all that and some more. Manufacturers seem to be developing a consensus that vehicles should be taking on some of a wearable's functionality. As evidenced by Volvo's newly announced tie-up with the Microsoft Band 2 fitness tracking wearable, car manufacturers are starting to explore how wearable devices will help drivers. The On Call app brings voice commands, spoken into the Band 2, into the mix. It'll allow you to pass an address from your smartphone's agenda right to your Volvo's nav system, or to preheat your car. Eventually, Volvo would like your car to learn things about your routines, and communicate back to you – or even, improvise to help you wake up earlier to avoid that traffic that might make you late. Do you need to buy a device, like the $249 Band 2, and always wear it to have these sorts of interactions with your car? Despite the emphasis on wearables, CES 2016 has also given us a glimmer of a vehicle future that cuts out the wearable middleman entirely. Take Audi's new Fit Driver project. The goal is to reduce driver stress levels, prevent driver fatigue, and provide a relaxing interior environment by adjusting cabin elements like seat massage, climate control, and even the interior lighting. While it focuses on a wearable device to monitor heart rate and skin temperature, the Audi itself will use on-board sensors to examine driving style and breathing rate as well as external conditions – the weather, traffic, that sort of thing. Could the seats measure skin temperature? Could the seatbelt measure heart rate? Seems like Audi might not need the wearable at all – the car's already doing most of the work. Whether there's a device on a driver's wrist or not, manufacturers seem to be developing a consensus that vehicles should be taking on some of a wearable's functionality.

Revisiting the 2008-09 auto bailout that saved GM and Chrysler

The Federal Reserve stayed open late on December 31, 2008. There's almost no way you could remember that because barely anyone knew at the time. But General Motors had to pay its bills, and the Fed wired money so GM could still buy things in January. Without those funds, the nation's largest automaker wouldn't have seen much of 2009. It's one of many heart-stopping moments that illustrate just how close Detroit's Big Three came to extinction nearly a decade ago. They're chronicled in a new movie, Live Another Day, premiering in theaters September 16. Filmmakers Bill Burke and Didier Pietri interviewed nearly all of the key executives, federal officials, and union chiefs to recreate the auto industry's most perilous period. The movie begins in the aftermath of Lehman Brothers' demise amid the global financial meltdown. Things looked bleak for American carmakers, and their CEOs were laughed off Capitol Hill when they sought a Wall Street-style bailout. "It was a feeling that it was the end of the world," Pietri told Autoblog in an interview where he and Burke previewed the film. Saved by last-minute loans authorized by the Bush Administration after Congress refused to act, Detroit staggered into 2009 with a faint pulse. Live Another Day illustrates the downward spiral that played out that winter as President Obama and his task force – with little prior knowledge of the auto industry – wrestled over the fate of hundreds of thousands of jobs. GM's longtime CEO Rick Wagoner was fired in March. Fiat CEO Sergio Marchionne suddenly appeared as a savior for Chrysler, with his own motives. Obama rejected restructuring plans from the automakers. Chrysler declared bankruptcy on April 30. GM followed June 1. The sequence was very public, but Pietri and Burke showcase lesser-known events that shaped the outcome. They also seek to dispel the notion that the government rescued GM and Chrysler from incompetent leaders. "We never subscribed to the theories that the management structures of the companies were a bunch of idiots who didn't know what is going on," Pietri said. At one point, Chrysler executives were negotiating with Marchionne and Fiat. Unbeknownst to them, the government was having its own talks with the Italian automaker. The filmmakers also cast light on the bankruptcy process, which was shredded to shepherd two of America's industrial icons through reorganizations.

Nuclear-powered concept cars from the Atomic Age

In the 1950s and early 60s, the dawn of nuclear power was supposed to lead to a limitless consumer culture, a world of flying cars and autonomous kitchens all powered by clean energy. In Europe, it offered the then-limping continent a cheap, inexhaustible supply of power after years of rationing and infrastructure damage brought on by two World Wars.
The development of nuclear-powered submarines and ships during the 1940s and 50s led car designers to begin conceptualizing atomic vehicles. Fueled by a consistent reaction, these cars would theoretically produce no harmful byproducts and rarely need to refuel. Combining these vehicles with the new interstate system presented amazing potential for American mobility.
But the fantasy soon faded. There were just too many problems with the realities of nuclear power. For starters, the powerplant would be too small to attain a reaction unless the car contained weapons-grade atomic materials. Doing so would mean every fender-bender could result in a minor nuclear holocaust. Additionally, many of the designers assumed a lightweight shielding material or even forcefields would eventually be invented (they still haven't) to protect passengers from harmful radiation. Analyses of the atomic car concept at the time determined that a 50-ton lead barrier would be necessary to prevent exposure.