Arizona Wants to Let the Fast Cars Run Free—At Least in the Daytime

Speed limits are a compromise. Not between physics and machinery, but between the best drivers and the worst ones sharing the same ribbon of asphalt. They’re written for the distracted, the hesitant, and the underprepared—not for the person in a well-sorted car on a clear road with both hands on the wheel and eyes far ahead.

Arizona lawmakers are flirting with the idea of acknowledging that reality.

State Rep. Nick Kupper has introduced a proposal that would remove daytime speed limits on select stretches of rural interstate, effectively creating American autobahn zones where “reasonable and prudent” driving replaces a posted maximum. If it passes, Arizona could become the boldest U.S. state yet to admit that not all highways—and not all drivers—are created equal.

The bill, officially titled the Reasonable and Prudent Interstate Driving (RAPID) Act (HB 2059), would allow the Arizona Department of Transportation to designate limited sections of rural interstate as derestricted speed zones. No blanket free-for-all here: the plan applies only outside urbanized areas with populations over 50,000 and only during daylight hours. Once the sun goes down, an 80-mph cap snaps back into place.

Before anyone imagines ADOT tossing out speed limit signs on a whim, there’s a long checklist attached. Any eligible highway segment would have to pass engineering and traffic studies, meet high-speed roadway design standards, and show a crash rate below the statewide average over the last five years. In other words, the road has to earn the right to go limit-free.

There’s also an important asterisk: commercial vehicles don’t get to play. Trucks and other commercial traffic would remain bound by the standard 80-mph limit or lower, regardless of time or location.

Kupper points to Montana as precedent. From 1995 to 1999, the state famously removed daytime speed limits on rural highways, relying instead on a “reasonable and prudent” standard. While average speeds did rise, a later legislative audit found that crash and fatality rates per vehicle mile traveled continued to decline and stayed consistent with neighboring states.

The lesson, according to that study, wasn’t about the numbers printed on signs. It was about behavior. Seatbelt use, attentiveness, and overall driving habits mattered more than posted limits. In short, the human factor outweighed the speedometer reading.

“Most drivers can tell the difference between a crowded city freeway and a wide-open stretch of rural interstate,” Kupper argues. “The RAPID Act accounts for that difference.”

For enthusiasts, the appeal is obvious. Modern cars—especially performance sedans and grand tourers—are engineered to cruise comfortably and safely at speeds that would’ve seemed outrageous a generation ago. On the right road, in the right conditions, the limiting factor often isn’t the machine but the law.

HB 2059 will be formally taken up once Arizona’s 2026 legislative session begins. Whether it survives the political and public-safety gauntlet remains to be seen. But the proposal itself is notable: a rare moment when lawmakers are willing to question whether one-size-fits-all speed limits still make sense on wide-open, modern interstates.

If nothing else, Arizona is asking a question few states dare to ask anymore—what if the road, the car, and the driver actually matter more than the sign?

Source: AZ Free News

The Internal-Combustion Engine Refuses to Die

For one brief, shiny moment, it looked like the internal-combustion engine was on borrowed time. Automakers were tripping over themselves to announce all-electric futures, governments were sharpening the knives with hard deadlines, and anyone still talking about pistons and camshafts sounded like they’d missed the memo. Then something interesting happened: reality showed up.

Yes, last month electric cars outsold gasoline-powered cars in Europe for the first time. That’s a milestone worth acknowledging. But at the same time—and this is the part that complicates the neat “EVs win, ICE loses” narrative—car companies quietly started writing very large checks to keep gasoline and diesel alive.

Five years ago, the script felt settled. EVs would surge, internal combustion would fade, and by the mid-2030s we’d all be driving silently into the future. Today, the plot has thickened. Instead of planning funerals for combustion engines, manufacturers are extending their life expectancy—and spending billions to do it.

General Motors’ recent $888 million investment in its Tonawanda, New York, plant is a perfect example. The money will keep GM’s V8 engines alive and kicking, marking the largest single investment the company has ever made in an internal-combustion facility. In an era supposedly defined by kilowatts and charging curves, that’s a thunderous vote of confidence in eight cylinders and gasoline.

Stellantis is making similar noises. Chrysler plans to pour $13 billion into U.S. manufacturing, including new internal-combustion development. A large SUV with a traditional engine is on the way, as is a midsize truck. The HEMI V8 has already clawed its way back into the Ram 1500 lineup, and Dodge has restarted V6 production for the Durango. If you thought the muscle-era hardware was headed straight for the museum, think again.

This isn’t just nostalgia talking. At the IAA Mobility show in Munich, Horse Powertrains—an engine supplier owned by Geely—unveiled its compact C15 engine, a small-displacement unit making between 94 and 161 horsepower with a turbocharger. More importantly, it’s fuel-flexible, capable of running on gasoline, ethanol, methanol, or synthetic fuels. That kind of adaptability suggests a future where internal combustion doesn’t disappear, but evolves.

Mazda, long the industry’s most charming contrarian, went full Mazda at the Japan Mobility Show. The company showed a rotary-engine concept tied to microalgae that capture carbon emissions. Mazda claims the algae’s oil can be refined into a carbon-neutral fuel to power a hybrid system. It’s delightfully weird—and very on brand.

Meanwhile, the usual suspects are quietly at work. BMW and Mercedes-Benz are developing new V8s. Nissan is refining gasoline engines with fuel-saving technology. Honda is preparing a new V6 hybrid. Toyota, never one to put all its eggs in a single basket, is working on a new V8. In China, engineers continue pushing thermal-efficiency limits for gasoline engines, squeezing more work out of every drop of fuel.

Policy has shifted, too. In the U.S., President Trump scrapped the previous administration’s target of 50 percent EV sales by 2030 and eliminated the $7,500 federal tax credit for new electric cars. Not coincidentally, EV sales in the U.S. dipped after incentives disappeared. In Europe, regulators softened their stance as well. Instead of a total ban on combustion engines from 2035, the EU lowered emissions targets from a 100-percent reduction to 90 percent compared to 2021 levels—leaving the door open for hybrids well into the next decade.

None of this means the EV revolution is over. Far from it. Global electric-vehicle sales continue to climb and are expected to hit around 25 percent of the new-car market by year’s end—more than 20 million vehicles. Europe remains a growth engine for EVs, and electrification is still the long-term goal for most automakers.

What has changed is the timeline—and the certainty. Rather than betting everything on a rapid, all-electric leap, manufacturers are hedging. They’re developing EVs and internal-combustion vehicles in parallel, acknowledging that infrastructure, consumer behavior, regulation, and economics don’t all move at the same speed.

The takeaway? Reports of the internal-combustion engine’s death were, as it turns out, premature. Gasoline and diesel aren’t winning the future—but they’ve been granted a stay of execution. And judging by the billions being invested, they’re not going quietly.

How France Turned Electric Cars into a 26-Percent Market Force

If you’re looking for the moment when France’s electric-car transition stopped being theoretical and started looking inevitable, November 2025 might be it. For the first time, electric vehicles grabbed more than 26 percent of new registrations in the country—an eye-opening figure in a market that otherwise looks stuck in neutral.

This didn’t happen because French drivers suddenly woke up and fell in love with kilowatt-hours. It happened because policy, product, and timing finally aligned.

According to Avere, the European Association for Electromobility, France registered 37,723 electric vehicles in November, counting both passenger cars and light commercial vehicles. That’s a 48.5 percent jump over the same month last year. Strip away the vans and fleet noise, and the picture gets even clearer: 34,533 of those were fully electric passenger cars registered by private buyers. In other words, more than one in four new cars bought by individuals in November didn’t burn a drop of gasoline.

That’s not a blip. That’s a shift.

The €100-a-Month Catalyst

The spark came from Paris, not from Silicon Valley or Wolfsburg. In early 2024, the French government rolled out a subsidized EV leasing program aimed squarely at lower-income workers—people who actually need a car to get to their jobs and live at least 15 kilometers away. The headline number was irresistible: monthly payments starting at €100 for small electric cars.

Demand exploded. More than 50,000 applications poured in—more than double what the program’s architects expected. The government hit pause less than a month later, overwhelmed by its own success, with the program officially set to end in 2025.

But the idea was too effective to abandon. In September 2025, the leasing scheme returned, backed by a €370 million financing envelope. Monthly payments now range from roughly €140 to €200 depending on the vehicle and the buyer’s situation, with subsidies capped at €7,000 per car. The target is straightforward: put about 50,000 additional EVs on French roads and, just as importantly, keep the money flowing into European factories.

It’s industrial policy with a charging cable.

Enter the Renault 5 E-Tech

Every movement needs a poster car, and France found its hero in a reboot. The Renault 5 E-Tech—retro-styled, city-sized, and priced to play nicely with subsidies—has become the runaway star of the French EV market.

In November alone, 5,325 Renault 5s found new homes. That’s not just leading the segment; it’s embarrassing the competition. The Peugeot e-208, a solid and familiar alternative, managed 2,072 registrations—less than half the Renault’s total. Third place went to the Renault Scénic, which continues to post steady, if less headline-grabbing, growth.

Production is keeping pace. Renault’s Ampere Electric City plant in Douai is running flat out, having already built more than 100,000 R5 E-Techs in just 15 months. That’s a clear signal that this isn’t a short-term spike—it’s a sustained push.

A Glimpse of the Future

France’s November numbers don’t mean the internal-combustion engine is dead. But they do suggest that, given the right incentives and the right cars, mass EV adoption can happen faster than most forecasts predicted. When affordability stops being the bottleneck, buyers don’t need much convincing.

More than 26 percent EV share in a stagnant market isn’t just a statistic—it’s a warning shot to every automaker and policymaker still betting on slow change. In France, at least, the electric future didn’t arrive quietly. It showed up in volume.

Source: Avere

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