Category Archives: News

When Your Toyota Talks to Your Insurance Company

You know your car has cupholders, a reversing camera, enough driver-assist chimes to soundtrack a low-budget sci-fi flick, and at least one fossilized French fry wedged permanently between the seat and center console. What you might not realize is that it also has a second job—one that doesn’t show up on the Monroney sticker. Your car may be moonlighting as a data broker.

Welcome to the era of the rolling server rack.

Industry estimates suggest that roughly 90 percent of new vehicles vacuum up detailed driving data: speed, throttle inputs, braking force, cornering loads. In other words, all the fun stuff. Automakers say this telemetry helps improve safety systems, diagnose mechanical issues, and refine performance. And to be fair, modern cars are astonishingly capable computers on wheels. Over-the-air updates fix bugs. Crash-avoidance systems get smarter. Engines squeeze more efficiency from every drop of fuel.

But somewhere between your spirited on-ramp merge and your panic stop at a stale yellow, that same data may be heading somewhere else—like your insurance company.

One driver discovered this the hard way. After braking hard the day before shopping for a new policy, he was stunned when an insurer referenced that exact event during the quote process. The source, he was told, was his own car’s built-in telemetry system.

Philip Siefke told CNN that the insurer in question was Progressive. When he pressed for answers, he says he was told the data came from his Toyota’s connected services. His reaction was less “wow, cutting-edge tech!” and more “how exactly did you get that?” According to his account, he hadn’t knowingly enrolled in any monitoring program. The explanation he received: most customers effectively consent through the paperwork signed at purchase.

And there’s the rub.

Modern car-buying already feels like signing a mortgage in a wind tunnel. Between financing documents, extended warranty pitches, and the standard stack of contracts, buried clauses about data sharing are easy to miss. Technically, the permission may be there. Practically, few buyers are parsing legal language about third-party data partners while negotiating APR.

Some manufacturers share or sell anonymized—or not-so-anonymized—driving data to third parties, including insurers. The pitch is that usage-based insurance can reward safe driving. In theory, smoother inputs mean lower premiums. In reality, one heavy-footed afternoon can follow you around like a permanent demerit badge.

Regulators have started paying attention. In 2024, the Federal Trade Commission warned consumers that connected cars can collect sensitive personal data and that its use and disclosure could threaten privacy and financial well-being. Not long after, the FTC resolved a case involving General Motors and its OnStar connected services, barring the company from selling driving data to third parties for five years without clear notice and affirmative consent. There was no fine attached, but the message was unmistakable: clean up the consent process.

GM said it had already stopped the practice earlier in response to customer feedback and maintained that the original goal was to encourage safer driving. Still, the action highlighted just how opaque these data ecosystems can be.

Meanwhile, the real-world consequences show up in the one place drivers always feel it—the wallet. The Toyota driver who discovered his braking event in an insurer’s database reportedly saw his premium jump sharply at renewal despite a long clean record. What began as a sub-$300 monthly policy climbed north of $400 six months later. His lawsuit against the automaker, insurer, and a data provider is now headed to arbitration—another clause tucked neatly into that original stack of purchase documents.

Toyota has said it only shares driving data with third parties when customers provide consent and direct the company to do so. Insurers, for their part, often promote usage-based models as voluntary and beneficial. Industry groups insist connected cars aren’t spying—they’re optimizing.

But from the driver’s seat, it can feel less like optimization and more like surveillance with a deductible.

We’ve spent decades obsessing over horsepower, lateral grip, and 0–60 times. Now there’s a new performance metric to consider: how smoothly you brake in front of an algorithm. Press the start button, and you’re not just firing up fuel injection and infotainment—you may be launching a quiet livestream of your right foot’s greatest hits.

The connected car revolution promised convenience, safety, and smarter machines. It delivered all of that. It also delivered a new reality: every apex clipped and every panic stop might be logged, scored, and priced.

So the next time you mash the brake pedal to avoid a shopping cart in the Costco lot, remember—your ABS isn’t the only thing paying attention.

Source: CNN

This Renault Twizy Now Makes Supercar Torque

The Renault Twizy was never meant to be quick. It was meant to be clever. Narrow. Urban. A rolling answer to the question, “What if a car was mostly door?” With its tandem seating, sci-fi plastic bodywork, and scissor doors that looked like they’d been borrowed from a rejected Tron sequel, the Twizy carved out a niche as the world’s most charming electric appliance.

Speed? Not its department.

Which is precisely why the lunatics at DM Performance decided it needed 80 horsepower and enough torque to bend reality.

The Mild-Mannered EV Goes Full Supervillain

The build begins the only way these stories ever do: with violence. Out came the Twizy’s factory 17-hp (13-kW) motor, a unit that treated acceleration as a polite suggestion. In its place went the powertrain from a Stark Varg—currently the electric equivalent of a 450cc motocross bike, and about as subtle as a brick through a greenhouse.

The numbers are absurd. Power jumps to 80 hp (60 kW), a 396-percent increase that turns the Twizy’s résumé from “reliable intern” to “HR liability.” But horsepower is only half the story. The Stark Varg motor is rated at 692 lb-ft (938 Nm) of torque.

Yes. Six hundred and ninety-two.

For perspective, a Lamborghini Aventador makes 509 lb-ft. A Ram 1500 TRX—a two-and-a-half-ton monument to supercharged excess—delivers 680 lb-ft. The Twizy now produces more twist than both, in something that looks like it should be parked next to rental e-scooters.

Torque is what you feel. And in a vehicle this small, this light, and this fundamentally unprepared for such nonsense, torque is everything.

Surgery, Not a Swap

Fitting motocross-bike fury into a French quadricycle required more than optimistic zip ties. DM Performance removed the original rear cradle entirely and fabricated a custom mounting solution. The Twizy’s direct-drive transaxle gave way to a bespoke chain-drive setup—because nothing says “this will end well” like industrial chain noise behind your seat.

To stop the differential from instantly converting itself into glitter, the team engineered a custom stainless-steel casing and packed it with high-pressure grease to approximate limited-slip behavior. It’s less “OEM refinement” and more “mechanical deterrence.”

Then came suspension. A set of Maxpeedingrods coilovers was bolted in to reduce body roll—and, presumably, reduce the likelihood of the Twizy attempting to reenact a gymnast’s floor routine mid-corner.

Lighter. Meaner. Slightly Unhinged.

The original 100-kg (220-lb) battery was replaced by the Stark Varg’s 32-kg (70-lb) pack. It’s lighter, slightly higher in capacity, and capable of discharging energy at a rate that suggests it holds grudges.

The result is a machine that weighs a fraction of conventional performance cars while delivering torque figures that belong in a pickup truck brochure. Power-to-weight here isn’t impressive. It’s irresponsible.

Drag Strips and Donuts

The resulting “Stark Twizy” didn’t stay in the workshop. It lined up against an Audi S1 Quattro in a 100-mph drag race—and won. Let that settle in. A vehicle originally designed for European city centers just outran a rally-bred hot hatch to triple-digit speeds.

Then the builders took it drifting. And because subtlety is clearly not in the business plan, they performed donuts around a Lamborghini Aventador—a scene that feels less like a comparison test and more like performance art.

Not Their First Bad Idea

This isn’t DM Performance’s first experiment in miniature mayhem. They previously built a Stark-powered Citroën Ami, though they admitted the Twizy’s rear-wheel-drive layout makes it a better canvas for hooliganism.

And if electric chaos doesn’t satisfy your appetite, they’ve also created a turbocharged, Hayabusa-swapped tuk-tuk trike producing 305 hp in a 460-kg package. That’s less a vehicle and more a physics demonstration.

The Point of It All

The Twizy was once a symbol of urban efficiency. Now it’s proof that the electric age doesn’t have to be sterile. It can be loud (mechanically), sideways, and deeply, profoundly silly.

Car enthusiasts often ask whether EVs can be fun. The answer, apparently, is yes—provided you’re willing to install motocross-bike torque into something the size of a vending machine.

Somewhere in France, an engineer who worked on the original Twizy is staring at the ceiling, sensing a disturbance in the force.

And in a small UK workshop, someone is probably looking at a lawnmower and thinking, “Eighty horsepower should do it.”

Source: DM Performance

Volga Returns: Russia’s Once-Iconic Badge Reboots Under Chinese Ownership

Russia’s auto industry has spent the past four years in a kind of geopolitical drift mode. When Western automakers packed up and exited after the invasion of Ukraine, the showroom lights didn’t go dark—they simply changed color. Chinese brands flooded in, rapidly claiming market share that once belonged to European, Japanese, and American nameplates. Now, amid that reshuffling, a familiar Russian badge is clawing its way back: Volga.

For anyone who grew up in the Soviet era—or just appreciates Cold War-era sheetmetal—the Volga name carries weight. Built by GAZ beginning in the 1950s, Volga sedans were once rolling symbols of status and state authority, their upright grilles and chrome trim telegraphing quiet power. Production ended in 2012, and the badge seemed destined for the history books. But in today’s Russia, nostalgia is a market opportunity.

The revival, originally slated for 2024, comes under new ownership. Volga now sits within the orbit of Chinese automaker Changan, and the reboot looks less like a ground-up Russian renaissance and more like a carefully rebadged import strategy. In May 2024, three models were unveiled: the K30 sedan and two crossovers, the X5 Plus and K40. All were based on existing Changan products sold in China, with plans for local assembly in Russia after being shipped over in near-complete form.

They were supposed to reach buyers by the end of 2024. They didn’t.

Now, the comeback attempt is back on track—at least digitally. A fresh Volga website has gone live in Russia, accompanied by teaser images of what appears to be the first production model. If you’re expecting a retro-modern reinterpretation of a GAZ-24, temper your expectations. The teased crossover looks resolutely contemporary, with a traditional SUV silhouette, a large grille, squared-off wheel arches, and a rear treatment that feels faintly reminiscent of an Audi Q8. It’s less “Soviet limousine for party officials” and more “global compact SUV with regional branding.”

That’s not necessarily a criticism. In today’s market—especially one reshaped by necessity—conventional can be comforting. The teaser suggests a straightforward formula: familiar proportions, recognizable design cues, and minimal risk. Reports indicate that this model will be joined by two additional vehicles, likely echoing the earlier K30, X5 Plus, and K40 trio.

Inside, the previewed cabin continues the theme of pragmatic modernity. A flat-bottom steering wheel, fully digital instrument cluster, and a large central infotainment display define the layout. There are no avant-garde experiments here—no yoke steering, no buttonless minimalism taken to absurd extremes. Instead, it appears to follow the industry-standard template that Chinese manufacturers have become adept at executing: clean, tech-forward, and competitively equipped.

The larger question isn’t what Volga will look like. It’s what it represents.

This isn’t a resurrection in the purist sense. It’s a badge-engineering play in a market where the old rules no longer apply. With Western competition gone, Chinese automakers have an open runway. Reviving a historically significant Russian nameplate under Chinese stewardship could prove to be a savvy move—blending national nostalgia with modern supply chains.

If the original Volga symbolized Soviet-era prestige, the new one may come to symbolize something else entirely: the realignment of Russia’s auto industry in a post-2022 world. Whether buyers embrace the rebooted badge will depend less on heritage and more on price, availability, and perceived quality.

Still, there’s something undeniably intriguing about seeing the Volga nameplate back in play. It may not rumble with a carbureted inline-four or waft down boulevards with chrome-laden gravitas, but in a market reshaped by politics and pragmatism, survival—and reinvention—might be the most powerful legacy of all.

Source: Volga