In today’s world, information is everywhere. We live in a time where, with just a few clicks, you can connect with experts, watch endless tutorials, and download more data than a human brain could ever process. Racing is no different — in fact, the shift has been even more dramatic.
Data loggers, digital dashboards, and real-time tuning have transformed the sport. With systems like FuelTech, Racepak, Holley EFI, and countless others, a driver can finish a pass and immediately hand off the run sheet to a tuner who’s a thousand miles away. Adjustments that used to take a night in the garage can now happen between rounds.
And don’t get me wrong — I love my FuelTech. The information it provides is game-changing. It tells me things I’d never catch otherwise, and it saves both time and money. But there’s a part of me that wonders… is all this progress taking away from the driver?
The Driver’s Feel vs. The Laptop Screen
In the movie Rush, there’s a moment that hits hard — a reminder that in the past, a driver had to feel the car. Every vibration, every change in pitch, every shift in tire bite had to be processed through instinct. Then, they made adjustments based on nothing more than experience and feel.
There’s a raw beauty to that. Like watching a bird dog work a field on instinct alone, you can’t teach that kind of connection between man and machine. I’ve seen guys walk over to a carburetor and, without a single data log, lay their hands on it like a mechanic-turned-healer. A twist here, a turn there — and suddenly the car sounds healthier, stronger.
That’s talent. Not everyone has it. And that’s okay. But I do respect the ones who do — the old-school tuners who can “hear” horsepower and “feel” grip without a single wire plugged into a laptop.
The Price of Progress
Here’s the other side of it — progress has also raised the cost of being competitive. Not always, there are exceptions.
Now? To run at the top, you often need a pile of cash for electronics alone. Data loggers, sensors, control modules — none of it is cheap. Then comes the “subscription” to expertise: paying a tuner, sometimes remote, to read that data and make changes. It’s not a bad thing if you can afford it. But for the racer who has more heart than wallet, it creates a gap.
The Good and the Bad
Progress is a double-edged sword.
On one hand, technology has leveled the playing field in terms of knowledge. A rookie racer can get advice from a world-class tuner before their second pass. Mistakes can be caught early. Broken parts can be prevented. And most importantly — the cars are faster and more consistent than ever before.
On the other hand, we risk losing something that made racing so pure — the art of reading a car by feel alone. When everything becomes numbers and charts, you can start to forget what it feels like to drive a race car instead of manage one.
The Balance
I’m not suggesting we throw away the laptops and go back to tuning with nothing but a screwdriver and a prayer. But I do think there’s value in keeping some of that old-school instinct alive. Technology can be a tool — but it shouldn’t replace the driver’s relationship with the car.
The best racers in the world are the ones who can do both: read a data log like a pro, then get in the seat and feel the subtle differences the numbers don’t always show. That’s when you stop being just a driver, or just a tuner, and start becoming something greater — a racer in the truest sense.
Because in the end, no matter how much technology changes the sport, there will always be something magical about watching a man or woman climb into a car, tighten the belts, and know — truly know — what that car needs without a single number flashing on a screen.
That’s not just racing.
That’s talent.
That’s art.
See you at the next race
-Kline
