A Rolex Lasts Generations. Why Are Cars Built to Die?

Why automakers are leaving money on the table by designing for obsolescence instead of building machines people want to keep, upgrade, and pass down.

A Rolex Lasts Generations. Why Are Cars Built to Die?

By Michael Entner-Gómez

A Rolex doesn’t lose its value just because it needs a repair. You service it, polish it, maybe even hand it down to the next generation. It’s not disposable—it’s an investment. But cars? The moment they show signs of wear, they’re treated like trash. Why?

Automakers used to build cars like Rolex builds watches—designed to last, meant to be maintained. Now? They build them like fast-fashion sneakers—meant to be worn out, discarded, and replaced as quickly as possible. Everything is designed to fail just fast enough to push you into another sale. Plastic interiors crumble, dashboards fade, and soft-touch coatings turn to goo. Software locks you out of repairs, and when the updates stop, so do the features. Repairs are priced so high they aren’t worth doing, forcing perfectly good cars to the junkyard.

This isn’t an accident. It’s deliberate. Planned obsolescence isn’t a flaw in the system—it is the system.

I’ve never understood that mentality. I have a hard time letting go of cars and motorcycles, which is why I have over 70 machines—even though it makes my wife tear her hair out when they find their way into the house every once in a while. I can’t even stand to sell them. If I have to part with one, I’d rather hand it down to someone I care about, running and ready for its next chapter. Heck, my Ford Ranger is still out there with 270,000 miles, now with a young new owner who appreciates it as much as I did.

I don’t believe in throwing away something just because it’s old. If it still works—if it still delivers joy, utility, and a connection to the road—why should it be discarded? Automakers used to get that. Now, they’re betting that customers will accept the idea that cars are disposable.

But what if they’re wrong?

Why Automakers Should Be Monetizing Longevity

Automakers are obsessed with finding new revenue streams, but they’re missing the most obvious one—helping people keep and upgrade the cars they already love. Instead of locking customers into planned obsolescence, they should be following the model that has worked for luxury watches, motorcycles, and even high-end tools—monetizing longevity, not disposability.

A disposable car is profitable once. An heirloom-grade vehicle can generate revenue for decades.

I’ve spent more money maintaining, modifying, and improving some of my vehicles than I ever did buying them. And I’m not alone—enthusiasts pour thousands into keeping their machines on the road, whether it’s factory restorations, performance upgrades, or just keeping an old favorite alive. Right now, all that money goes to the aftermarket—independent mechanics, tuners, and parts suppliers—because automakers have turned their backs on long-term ownership.

It doesn’t have to be that way. Some brands get it. Toyota sells TRD parts and Gazoo Racing upgrades. Porsche has a factory restoration program for classic models. BMW’s M Performance division makes a fortune on aftermarket-style tuning. But most automakers? They treat anything older than five years as an afterthought. Instead of supporting long-term ownership, they price repairs so high that replacement is the only logical option. They lock software behind paywalls and disable features once a car ages out of their ecosystem. They build parts out of materials that aren’t meant to last, forcing owners to chase replacements that don’t exist.

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The irony is, this isn’t good business. They’re leaving money on the table.

I know this firsthand. Some of my machines have had multiple lives—rebuilt, restored, passed down to people who care about them as much as I do. And the money I’ve put into them? More than what they cost new. Imagine if automakers embraced that—a factory-backed upgrade path, where a car doesn’t just get sold once, but becomes a long-term relationship between the owner and the brand. Instead of forcing people to replace their vehicles every few years, they could offer restoration parts, performance upgrades, or even factory-sanctioned tuning packages. I know I’d pay for it. I already have, just not to them.

Harley-Davidson figured this out years ago. A customer doesn’t just buy a bike—they keep spending on it for decades. It’s a lifelong brand relationship. I’ve seen it myself, and I live it with the machines I own. Some of them have seen their odometers roll over more than once. Some of them have gone through different owners and come back to me like old friends. That’s how vehicles should be designed—not as sealed, disposable gadgets, but as machines that grow with their owners.

The aftermarket has figured this out. The independent repair shops have figured this out. The only ones who don’t seem to get it? The automakers.

Tuner Culture: Proof That People WANT to Spend More

The industry loves to talk about “customer engagement,” but it ignores the most passionate, committed, and high-spending buyers it already has—the ones who don’t just buy cars, but build them. The ones who drop tens, if not hundreds of thousands into modifying machines that started as bare-bones platforms. The ones who take an economy car and turn it into something that can outrun a supercar.

That’s the magic of the tuner world. A $20,000 car can turn into a $100,000 project, one aftermarket part at a time. I’ve seen it firsthand. I’ve done it myself. The only limit is how much you’re willing to spend, and for some people, there is no limit. Yet, instead of harnessing that energy, automakers act like it doesn’t exist.

I’ve spent years watching this happen. I’ve seen models go from beloved tuner platforms to over-engineered, dealer-locked nightmares. I’ve also seen what happens when a brand supports modding instead of fighting it—loyalty, a thriving secondary market, and a product that actually gets better over time instead of aging into obsolescence.

The tuner world has already proven that customers want to keep spending. The only question is whether automakers are smart enough to take their money—or if they’ll keep pushing those customers into the arms of the aftermarket while wondering why their “customer engagement” numbers keep dropping.

The Industry Needs to Move—Now

Automakers still don’t seem to understand the most basic thing: People don’t just buy cars—they build relationships with them. And when you cut off a customer’s ability to maintain, modify, or upgrade their vehicle, you’re cutting off that relationship.

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This isn’t just about business—it’s about brand survival.

Automakers can either wake up to this, or they can keep forcing customers into a cycle of short-term, disposable ownership while wondering why loyalty is disappearing. Some of us will fight to keep what we love running. Some will take their money elsewhere. And some will start asking why they should trust a company that’s designed its product to expire.

The brands that get it will thrive. The ones that don’t? They’ll go the way of the disposable cars they’re trying to sell.

This article was written by Michael Entner-Gómez, a passionate car enthusiast with industry experience in a variety of fields including: automotive, energy, telecommunications, strategy, and emerging technologies.