A few winters ago, my neighbor’s hybrid SUV lost all power on a cloverleaf off-ramp—no crash, but the timing could’ve been terrible. Eventually, it was discovered that the issue was not mechanical at all. It was a small software problem nestled deep inside the car’s control module, ready to be triggered.
Modern vehicles, filled with sensors, microchips, and millions of lines of code, are behaving more like data centers on wheels. As software has discreetly seized command of practically every driving function—steering, acceleration, even crash avoidance—so have the risks buried in those algorithms.
| Manufacturer | Issue Summary | Vehicles Affected | Reported Consequence |
|---|---|---|---|
| Honda | ECU software error in fuel injection | 294,612 | Sudden engine stalls |
| Honda | Integrated Control Module resets mid-drive | 2016–2021 Civic models | Instantaneous power loss |
| Tesla | Steering software failures and erratic FSD behavior | ~280,000 Model 3/Y | Loss of steering, red light violations |
| Nissan | Cruise control disengage bug triggers acceleration | 2018–2023 Leaf | Unintended torque surge |
| Waymo | Autonomous taxis fail to detect obstacles properly | 3,000+ robotaxis | Unsafe maneuvers, school bus incident noted |
| Total Affected | Vehicles recalled for software defects in 2024 | Over 13 million | Increasing concern over embedded systems |
In recent months, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration has stepped up efforts to address a growing category of threats: software problems that cause vehicles to lose control abruptly. The agency’s new investigations are discovering not just individual flaws, but systemic design issues—issues far more sophisticated than a broken part or a failed fuse.
Take Honda. In January 2025, about 300,000 of its vehicles were recalled because of a software problem in the fuel injection ECU. Under typical driving conditions—especially during rapid throttle changes—the engine could hesitate, lose power, or simply stall. There were a lot of complaints, and there was real risk.
Around the same time, a secondary recall involving the Civic uncovered another software vulnerability. Incorrect programming and increasing electrical noise could cause the Integrated Control Module, which manages driving functions, to reset in the middle of the trip. In those occasions, the automobile didn’t merely stutter. It lost all driving power. Instantly.
The most reported cases didn’t necessarily end in collisions. But some drivers stated the sudden loss of acceleration felt “like a car giving up.”
By comparison, Tesla’s software issues have drawn larger attention, not least because they threaten public confidence in the promise of autonomous mobility. In 2026, NHTSA initiated a formal examination of around 280,000 Model 3 and Model Y vehicles after receiving dozens of reports of unexpected steering failure. In rare circumstances, power steering vanished in the middle of a turn. In others, the vehicle drifted little yet forcefully off lane.
The Full Self-Driving (FSD) suite from Tesla, which has been in beta for years, has been accused of making erratic decisions, including as veering into oncoming traffic, running stop signs, and abrupt braking. It is now hard for safety engineers and regulators to overlook the trend.
What’s particularly disturbing is the manner these bugs surface. Often, they arise under very particular conditions that evade most regular testing. A Nissan Leaf, for example, was recalled when engineers discovered that pushing the accelerator within eight seconds of disengaging cruise control might generate an unanticipated surge of torque. It sounds nearly ridiculous—until it doesn’t.
The recent Waymo recall appears to be almost restricted in that regard. The corporation pulled more than 3,000 autonomous robotaxis from service in 2025 after discovering that its navigation system failed to recognize some obstructions. One car apparently passed a halted school bus—a mistake that could be forgiven in a human driver, but highly unnerving in a vehicle engineered for precision.
The main concern, as NHTSA has made exceedingly apparent, is not the error itself, but the system that allows it to exist.
Vehicles today are designed with tiered control networks, where dozens of electronic control units (ECUs) communicate continually. Software updates, especially over-the-air ones, allow manufacturers to correct problems quickly—but they also create doors to new failures. A little miscommunication between systems can now behave like a quiet error in a spreadsheet, duplicating itself under just the wrong conditions.
These silent failures don’t scream. They whisper till it’s too late.
I once asked a retired engineer what the largest change in automobile safety had been in the past 30 years. He did not mention airbags or crumple zones. “The bugs are invisible now,” he stated simply.
By combining OTA updates, automakers aimed to construct a highly efficient pipeline between lab and roadway. In many respects, it has worked. Glitches that would once necessitate a major recall can now be repaired as your car stays parked overnight. But this speed can be harmful. Code that is deployed too early may perform erratically when it encounters uncertain roads, and testing may not necessarily reflect actual driving situations.
Remote diagnostics gained popularity throughout the pandemic. Dealerships, unable to handle volume in person, rely on remote tools. At the same time, complaints surged—up 22% in one year alone, according to a J.D. Power research. Software wasn’t just failing more often; it was undermining trust.
This deterioration isn’t irrevocable.
The response from regulators has been especially fast. NHTSA has been issuing recall obligations more aggressively when software is connected to safety-critical tasks. In rare circumstances, producers have been fined for failing to report timely data. The message is clear: a buried line of incorrect code is no less harmful than a broken axle.
Automakers are reciprocating. Engineering teams are now employing simulation technologies that can run millions of scenario combinations before software enters production. Some are introducing redundancies in code execution, akin to what aviation systems have utilized for decades.
For newer organizations, this recalibration is particularly advantageous. Without legacy systems to rewire, businesses may embed comprehensive validation into their core stack. For established automakers, the change is more delicate—but increasingly vital.
In the next years, as cars move closer to full autonomy, this trend will accelerate. Testing will become more comprehensive. OTA governance will become more stringent. Additionally, drivers—many of whom grew up with smartphones—will anticipate that their cars will function less like sealed machinery and more like updateable electronics.
Software isn’t going away. But the way we handle its hazards can—and should—evolve.
NHTSA’s inquiries are not a rejection of digital change in mobility. They are an appeal to improve the regulations that control it. Every defect that is found presents a chance to increase trust—not with catchphrases, but with diligence.
That’s the future sitting silently behind your steering wheel. It’s not just programmed. It’s being continually rewritten.
