Car buyers are faced with a dizzying array of
options. But there is one important added feature not
included on the window sticker or in any options
package: a box of electronics the size of a pack of
cigarettes that is a less refined version of the
so-called black box carried in aircraft, which becomes
the focus of attention after a plane crash. According to
the U.S. National Highway Traffic Safety Administration
(NHTSA), more than 65 percent of 2004 model year cars
sold in the United States, the world's largest passenger
car market, have some sort of event data recorder. Yet
the average driver has no idea that in the event of a
crash, a record of how the car was being driven in the
moments just before impact has been created and is
stored onboard [see photo, "Whose Fault?"].
Often, people learn of the box's existence only when a
lawyer introduces the data it contains in court to back
up their version of events. In one well-publicized
recent case, a Florida man was convicted in 2003 of two
counts of man-slaughter and two counts of vehicular
homicide when the event data recorder in his 2002
Pontiac Trans Am showed that he was traveling at 114
miles per hour (184 kilometers per hour) in an area
where the posted speed limit was 30 mph (48 km/h) when
he collided with another car, killing two teenage girls.
As many as 40 million cars on U.S. roads now carry
event data recorders, it's estimated. Even so, their
installation in cars did not become much of a public
issue until August, when the U.S. National
Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) recommended that they
be required in all new passenger vehicles. Then, on 23
September, the IEEE announced that one of its committees
had created the world's first technical standard for the devices.
At present, the recorders' capabilities vary widely.
The IEEE effort aims to make it possible to gather the
same pieces of information from any crash. The IEEE 1616
standard creates a baseline for what data—say,
velocity, engine revolutions per minute, throttle
position, use of brakes or seat belts—recorders will
store and for how tamper-proof and crash-proof the boxes
must be. "The more accurate the data we gather on
highway crashes, the better chance we have to reduce
their devastating effects," says Jim Hall, a former NTSB
head and cochair of the working group that developed the
standard.
There is no disputing that there are legitimate
benefits to be realized from the broad adoption of
automotive black boxes. Thomas M. Kowalick, the other
cochair of the IEEE 1616 working group, told IEEE
Spectrum, "There has been a stalemate in safety—still
no real solution to reduce the number of highway
fatalities below about 43 000." Worldwide, of course,
the number is much higher.
Today's event data recorders are descended from
General Motors Corp.'s Sensing and Diagnostic Module,
which was created in the 1970s simply to differentiate
between events like stopping short when a child runs
into the street and the violent change in velocity that
occurs in a collision. The module ensured that a car's
air bag inflated only when necessary. The latest
generation of event data recorders in wide production is
capable of storing 5 seconds of data—continuously
updated in first-in, first-out fashion until an air bag
is deployed. At that instant, an indelible snapshot of
the previous five seconds is stored in the module's
read-only memory.
Even this limited data-gathering capability may evoke
Orwellian anxieties, but privacy advocates are more
concerned about the much more extensive capabilities
just up the road. Kowalick, author of Fatal Exit, a
just-published IEEE-Wiley book examining the ongoing
automotive black box debate, shares those concerns. "The
worst fears about [event data recorders] are not about
what's in cars now, but how [they] could be used in the
future," he says. For example, NHTSA has proposed a
national crash database, with entries culled from
ubiquitous data recorders.
In 1994, when General Motors, in Detroit, put the
devices in its cars, it claimed that recovered data were
strictly for its internal use. Its engineers, the
company said, would be able to design safer cars. As
proof, it pointed to the modules' role in pinpointing a
flaw that was causing air bags in some of its cars to
inflate accidentally. But in the years since, GM has
approved the manufacture of machines that allow third
parties—such as law enforcement agencies, emergency
responders, insurance companies, and people who
specialize in accident reconstruction—to download a
data recorder's contents. The company that makes the US
$2500 readers, Santa Barbara, Calif.-based Vetronix
Corp., says it has sold more than 1000 of them so far.
More people
are getting more information about drivers than ever
before, as the ability to monitor a vehicle's
performance is being combined with wireless
communications technologies. Cars are already wirelessly
transmitting crash data to local emergency response
centers. Soon your car will keep an up-to-the-minute
record of your driving from the instant you start it up,
and be able to transmit data—including where you went,
the route you took, and how fast you drove—over
wireless networks.
Given those growing capabilities, it's no surprise
that the commercialization of crash data is just around
the corner. Insurance companies are beginning to run
trial programs offering incentives to drivers who agree
to have modules installed that track how often they
drive, how they behave behind the wheel, and where they park.
In August, Progressive Corp., an insurance company in
Mayfield Village, Ohio, introduced a voluntary program
called TripSense for its customers in Minnesota. Those
willing to connect a free TripSensor module to their
car's diagnostic system get a discount. When it's time
to renew the insurance policy, they can download the
data stored in the module to their home computers. If
the results make the drivers eligible for more
discounts, they can send the data to the company.
Though Progressive insists that the program is
optional and that data its customers share will never
cause their premiums to increase, consumer advocates
worry that as insurers become accustomed to being able
to ferret out reckless drivers and those out to commit
insurance fraud, people unwilling to be monitored in
this fashion will find it difficult to get insurance
coverage.