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Fuelcard Blog Update: Fall of the Boy Racers?

The MyKey is already being hailed as a godsend to worried parents everywhere. The special key can limit a car’s top speed and maximum radio volume and therefore has the potential to end the reign of the boy racers. My advice? Don’t believe the hype, it’s only a key people.

You don’t have to be chairman of the Institute of Advanced Motorists to realise that there are fundamental problems with the design. Its main feature gives parents the ability to limit the top speed of the car to anything between 45 – 80mph. Limiting a car to 45mph effectively rules it out of motorway and dual carriageway travel, and limiting it to 80mph seems pointless. Cue the sarcastic slow clapping.

It’s OK though, don’t worry the boffins at MyKey have an ace in the hole, a solution that’s tipped to save thousands of lives a year: a volume limit on the radio. Forget speeding, forget peer pressure; we all know that the real cause of most teenage crashes is listening to rap music at a volume not deemed appropriate by their parents.

I understand the practical arguments that loud music might distract a young driver, but at the end of the day, solving dangerous teenage driving is a lot like dieting, it requires a fundamental attitude shift to make it work, not a quick-fix solution.

Plus, the MyKey system assumes teenagers will be happy to drive their mum’s hatchback rather than forking out for their own. We all know that owning your own car, complete with its own non-meddling set of keys, is the top priority for a new teenage driver. Very few young drivers will cruise up to the school car park after hours in their parent’s shiny Ford, complete with baby seat and Neil Diamond CD collection.

Everyone’s drag racing and power-sliding, but you’re restricted to pootling around with your flashy safety-key and listening to the latest beats at 44 percent of your radio’s maximum volume. It’s the equivalent of turning down a lad’s night out to the curry house because your mum’s already packed you a lunch.

You never know, it might just work. But personally I don’t think we’ve heard the last of that stomach-churning bass blaring from open windows as the local teens cruise the streets on a Friday night just yet.


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