Ford, working with Scottish company Ceres Holographics, showed off last week what could become the future of head-up displays, or HUDs as they’re commonly known.
HUDs almost magically display useful information such as speed and turn-by-turn directions on the lower part of the windshield, where it can be seen without taking the driver’s eyes off the road. For years now, automakers and their suppliers have imagined an autonomous world in which cars drive themselves, and the glass currently needed to see traffic could be turned into big display scenes at will. But the arrival of full self-driving is still a long way off.
At a conference in Detroit, Ford displayed an interim step: what might be called HUD 2, a bright, clear display stretching across the windshield with three sections, two for the driver and one for the passenger. The latter, which could include projected video, would not be visible to the driver.
Andy Travers, the CEO of Ceres Holographics, says that the new display possibilities could be interactive, and help solve the dangerous situation of driver distraction using current controls.
“It’s compelling cost-wise for automakers to put everything on the screen,” Travers says. “And they’re hiring programmers who are used to working with computers, not mobile cars that need to have drivers watching the road. We think it’s a lot better to make choices from projected images on the windshield than having to look away to a centrally mounted screen.”

Stellantis
The windshield incorporates Ceres-developed (with Eastman and Carlex) thin-film technology that is produced with embedded holographic optical elements and then sandwiched between laminated glass sections to enable a transparent display of any kind of information. Travers says the film will not discolour over time. An inexpensive LED projector, technology in use now, is built into the instrument panel.
Regulators are taking notice of the distraction problem. According to Matthew Avery, director of strategic development at the safety agency Euro NCAP, “the overuse of touchscreens is an industry-wide problem, with almost every vehicle maker moving key controls onto central touchscreens, obliging drivers to take their eyes off the road and raising the risk of distraction crashes.”
Janice Tardiff, a coating application technical expert at Ford, says the passenger display on its initial prototype vehicles would target entertainment and possibly business applications.
The driver would get fuel or charge level, speedometer, navigation, and, on the centre display, points of interest and music. In a customer clinic testing the technology, participants liked the idea of being able to see sports events and movies, but weren’t sure that the clarity was sufficient for business applications. Some wanted the displays to be bigger.
Use of the film has been thoroughly tested and approved for next-generation HUD use, Tardiff says. The next steps are to improve colour, brightness, and resolution, optimise the size of the displays, and ensure good performance under different light conditions, she says.
HUD was an option on the Oldsmobile Cutlass in 1988, and it’s been steadily evolving since. Other companies are working on holographic technology, including Hyundai, Stellantis, Jaguar Land Rover, and General Motors. Technology shown by a U.K. company called Envisics on this year’s Chrysler Halcyon EV concept car imagined images on auto windows that would show points of interest along the chosen route, allow video calls en route, and map constellations in the night sky.
But not all of this would be able to go into current cars.
“While all this visual information is probably too distracting for a driver in control of the vehicle, it may not be when the vehicle is operated in an autonomous Level Four mode,” according to Envisics. “At this level, the driver can relax and utilise these functions and features.”
But some of it will be seen soon. A Chrysler/Dodge spokesman, Darren Jacobs, said via email, that “select design elements and features [seen on the Halcyon] like the head-up display and SmartCockpit are ready for production and will be included in Chrysler’s first all-electric vehicle.”
The Ford-Ceres technology is possible for production today, and it could lower driver distraction and prove satisfying for auto buyers—especially if image clarity can be improved.
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AI doesn’t rebel—people design, deploy and profit from it. The real danger lies in allowing tech companies to escape accountability while shaping regulations that protect their dominance.
A wave of corporate warnings and technical disclosures has flooded the media, with headlines worrying over “swarms” of rogue artificial-intelligence agents launching “unprecedented” cyberattacks, outsmarting their makers, and inching toward a terrifying autonomy. The most revealing part of this narrative isn’t what the software did. It’s who is telling the story—and why. When corporate leaders publicly insist that the systems they financed, engineered and deployed are suddenly beyond their power to contain, skepticism isn’t only healthy; it is essential.
For years, Silicon Valley has drawn scrutiny from civil society and global regulators over tangible harms such as youth mental health deterioration and systematic privacy violations. Today, industry figures seem to be trying to change that public image. Loudly blowing the whistle on their own systems—just as two of the leading companies were preparing for massive initial public offerings—lets AI executives position themselves as a new generation of leaders who have come to terms with their societal responsibilities. They seem to want us to believe that they no longer want to “move fast and break things” but will instead stand as vigilant guardians between humanity and a technological apocalypse.
There is one glaring problem: Software doesn’t rebel. A mathematical model possesses neither intent, malice nor the will to defy its creators, let alone extinguish our species. AI is a human artifact, engineered for profit.
When an agentic model in an evaluation sandbox connects to an unauthorized server or executes an exploit, it hasn’t staged a coup. It has tried to meet the human-defined objectives set out before it through a path its designers failed to constrain. It’s the digital equivalent of the King Midas myth, in which the king’s ill-defined wish turns even his food and drink into gold.
That powerful experimental models were able to discover novel vulnerabilities and breach external systems isn’t a sign of a dangerous superintelligence but of human error or negligence. There is no sentient actor lurking in the weights to be reasoned with, feared or pacified. There are only human software engineers, product managers and corporate boards deciding which guardrails are worth the latency cost and which permissions can be skipped in the race to market.
Policymakers and voters need to resist AI exceptionalism. In any other discipline—from civil engineering to pharmaceuticals—courts and regulators treat a system failure as evidence of bad product design and inadequate safety testing. If an aircraft crashes, we focus on finding the engineering defect, correcting it, and enforcing established liability standards for the damage created.
By leaning on an anthropomorphic narrative, Silicon Valley attempts to repackage its specific human choices that led to experimental, powerful models behaving unexpectedly during tests as an existential peril. Elevating the issue to a cosmic scale leaves the public paralyzed and takes ordinary product accountability off the table.
In the cutthroat race for venture capital and market dominance, building guardrails slows down deployment. Grandstanding about uncontrollable power costs nothing and generates billions of dollars in free publicity, justifying stock prices, all while cultivating an aura of technological capability not only to build the frontier but also ultimately to rein it in.
Governments need to recognize regulatory capture when it stares them in the face. Tech leaders’ strategy looks transparent: Alarm Washington and Brussels into creating a regime in which only trillion-dollar incumbents with fully staffed compliance and safety departments can legally operate. By sitting at the policymakers’ tables before anyone else, these companies can help draft rules digging an impassable moat protecting them from open-source developers and upstart competitors, domestic or international. The real danger is in further concentrating the tech industry into the hands of only a few companies with deep pockets.
Beijing and Washington have brushed off those tech leaders’ calls, albeit for very different reasons. Chinese state media dismissed them as part of the “Cold War playbook” and intended to preserve U.S. dominance. Xi Jinping argued for exactly the opposite at the Brics Summit on Sept. 12, calling on Brics countries to “strengthen cooperation in the field of AI, encourage open source, openness, collaboration and sharing, and break new grounds and scale new heights.” President Trump, steeped in a doctrine of unfettered capitalism and technological supremacy, called fears that AI could destroy humanity a “hoax.” Vice President JD Vance warned that AI companies “begging the government to regulate them” looked like a “Trojan Horse.”
Striving to pursue its “European way” on AI and assert regulatory leadership, Europe, by contrast, welcomed the call. European Union President Ursula von der Leyen made this clear at the State of the EU speech last Wednesday and announced that the EU will invite “the main frontier labs for a discussion on how we can support ongoing industry efforts to pace the frontier.”
Europe has been here before. In an effort to lead global regulation and react to fears borne from ChatGPT, Europe rushed its landmark AI Act into law in 2024. Already the world’s most restrictive rulebook, the framework quickly proved too broad and complex to enforce. Stalled by implementation delays and concerns about European competitiveness, the EU postponed the law’s full rollout, leaving regulations uncertain.
AI should be regulated—risks exist and should be taken seriously. But governments need to act based on available evidence and verified facts, not corporate PR panic, the views of industry insiders, or the desire for quick political wins. The greatest danger facing society isn’t that software will awaken and overthrow its human masters. It is that we will allow the creators of the software to abdicate human responsibility for the systems they choose to build and help them pull up the ladder to market access behind them.

