Automakers Push OTA Updates to Address Recent Vehicle Software Issues
There was a time when fixing a car meant lifting the hood or crawling underneath with a wrench. Now it increasingly means waiting for your sedan to download a patch while it sits in the driveway overnight. Over-the-air software updates have become the industry’s go-to solution for addressing everything from minor infotainment glitches to serious safety-related bugs, and automakers are leaning on them harder than ever.
Tesla pioneered the approach years ago, treating vehicles like rolling smartphones that could be improved remotely. The rest of the industry watched, took notes, and eventually followed. Today, nearly every major automaker offers some form of OTA capability, and the updates are coming faster and more frequently than most owners probably realize.
General Motors pushed a significant update to certain Chevrolet, GMC, and Cadillac models last month after owners reported freezing touchscreens and unresponsive climate controls. Ford issued a fix for its BlueCruise hands-free driving system in December following complaints about unexpected disengagements on the highway. BMW quietly patched a battery-drain issue affecting several 2024 models. None of these required a dealer visit. The cars just fixed themselves, more or less, while parked.
“We’re able to respond to issues in days or weeks instead of months,” said Jennifer Walsh, a software engineering director at a major Detroit automaker who asked that her company not be named directly. “The old model was wait for complaints, issue a recall, send letters, hope people show up at the dealer. Now we see the data in real-time and push a fix before most customers even notice the problem.”
That sounds great in theory, and often it works exactly as advertised. But there’s a flip side that doesn’t get talked about as much. Some owners have reported that updates introduced new bugs while fixing old ones. Others complain about updates that changed features they actually liked—a reorganized menu here, a removed shortcut there. The car you bought in March might not behave quite the same way by September, and you didn’t necessarily ask for the changes.
I experienced this firsthand with a test vehicle last spring. An update rolled out overnight and suddenly the lane-keeping assist felt more aggressive, tugging at the wheel in situations where it previously stayed quiet. Was it better? Arguably. Was it what I expected when I woke up? Definitely not. There’s something slightly unsettling about a machine that changes its own behavior while you sleep.
The legal and regulatory landscape is still catching up. Traditional recalls require formal notification to owners and the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration. OTA fixes exist in a grayer area. Automakers are supposed to report safety-related updates, but the line between a safety fix and a routine improvement isn’t always obvious. Consumer advocacy groups have pushed for clearer disclosure requirements, arguing that owners deserve to know exactly what’s being changed and why.
There’s also the connectivity question. OTA updates require a reliable data connection, which means owners in rural areas or those who keep their vehicles offline might miss critical fixes entirely. Some automakers have started offering updates via home Wi-Fi as an alternative to cellular connections, but that assumes people bother to set it up. And plenty of owners simply decline updates when prompted, either out of suspicion or laziness. The fix exists, but it never actually reaches the car.
Still, the trajectory is clear. Vehicles are becoming software platforms first and mechanical machines second, at least in terms of how problems get solved. Ford CEO Jim Farley has talked openly about the company’s goal of generating billions in software-related revenue. GM’s Ultifi platform is designed to enable continuous updates throughout a vehicle’s lifespan. Even traditionalist brands like Toyota and Honda are investing heavily in connected-car infrastructure.
The upside is real. Recalls that once required thousands of dealer hours can now happen invisibly. Features can be added long after purchase—sometimes for free, sometimes for a fee. A car bought today might genuinely be better a year from now without any physical changes whatsoever.
But the old relationship between owner and machine is shifting in ways we’re still figuring out. Your car is no longer a static object. It’s a thing that evolves, sometimes without asking permission, shaped by engineers you’ll never meet pushing code from servers you’ll never see. Whether that feels like progress or something else probably depends on how the last update went.
