I want to be clear from the outset. I have never been a car enthusiast. My driving history includes a hand-me-down Volvo with a hole in the floorboards and a series of aggressively practical vehicles, including a VW Golf and a Mazda SUV that I used to haul my family around for twelve years. Then I leased a BMW i4 electric car.
What drew me to the i4 was its understated design. Unlike other electric vehicles, BMWs do not look like something out of the Jetsons. I like that they are understated cars that happen to be electric. I also liked that they are far less common than other EVs in Northern California. Plus, the i4 comes in something like a dozen colors, including Brooklyn Gray, which delighted me in ways that Tesla’s handful of options never could. I had read online that early adopters were having software issues, but with visions of my sleek new BMW dancing in my head, I conveniently filed that information away. Those first few drives felt exhilarating. The car was beautiful, the ride was smooth, and I felt like we were going places.
Nearly two years later, I am doing something I never thought I would do. I am eagerly awaiting the end of a lease on a luxury car because its software is such a disaster that it makes my rusted-out Volvo look like a paragon of reliability.
Let me count the ways this relationship has gone wrong, starting with the most basic function of getting into my own car. On multiple occasions, I have stood in parking lots, unable to unlock its doors with my phone despite the BMW Digital Key being specifically designed for this purpose. This sounds trivial until you are juggling melting groceries while looking like you are trying to steal your own car.
Digital key issues have become so widespread that BMW owners have at times shared elaborate multi-step workarounds that read like instructions for disarming a bomb. The user profile system is another exercise in futility. I have been unable to create guest profiles without being demoted to the bottom of the user hierarchy. What this means in practice is that if anyone else drives my car even once, the vehicle will grab their phone and playlist the moment they are within Bluetooth range. BMW has over-engineered their profile system to the point where it requires explicit linking steps that should really happen automatically.
The car’s CarPlay integration ranges from poor to actively dangerous. Software updates routinely break CarPlay functionality, requiring complete reboots of its iDrive infotainment system. The reverse camera issue is particularly maddening. Put the car in reverse while using CarPlay navigation, and when you shift back to drive, you are dumped onto the home screen instead of returning to your directions. The backup camera itself is practically useless in low light conditions, and the screen frequently becomes scorching hot to the touch.
Then there is the lights issue. Unless I remember to manually lock the car after walking away from it, I will occasionally notice later that the exterior lights are still ablaze in my driveway. I thought it might be human error the first time it happened. By the third time, I realized that it is a feature where the i4 enters a pseudo-sleep mode that keeps lights and other systems running indefinitely. Multiple owners report the same issue of parking the car, walking away, and returning later to find their vehicle lit up like a beacon and draining the battery.
Beyond the feeling on a near-daily basis that the car has amnesia, there are legitimate safety concerns. The 2022 i4 was subject to six recalls in its first year, including one so serious that BMW told owners their cars were fire risks when parked and advised them to stop driving the vehicle immediately. Since then, other recalls have included battery control units that can cause a sudden loss of power.
BMW releases software updates for the i4 approximately every few months, but the process is fraught with issues. Updates routinely break connected services, causing owners to lose access to traffic information, weather data, remote parking functions, and even the MyBMW app connectivity. The over-the-air update system itself is unreliable, with owners reporting updates that get stuck at various percentages for days, forcing trips to dealers for manual installation.
What is especially galling is that BMW positions these vehicles as premium products. If you are buying rather than leasing, the i4 starts at over fifty thousand dollars, with well-equipped models pushing seventy thousand or more. Meanwhile, owners of less expensive vehicles, including Hyundais and Lexus models, report bulletproof connectivity and seamless user experiences.
I genuinely wanted this relationship to work. The i4 is gorgeous, drives beautifully, and represents everything I thought I wanted in an electric vehicle. But I cannot continue a relationship where the most basic functions of unlocking doors, connecting my phone, and getting directions require the patience of a saint. I do not have the patience of a saint.
Even my tech-savvy husband, who is usually the first to suggest user error, recently emerged from the car after a particularly frustrating software meltdown and announced that he would need to meditate for a bit.
Car ownership should not be a constant source of aggravation. I should not have to maintain a mental database of workarounds for features that should just work. I should not dread software updates because they might break something that was mostly functional.
So BMW, I have had it. You made a gorgeous car, then sabotaged it with software so crummy that it is almost comical. I thought we would drive into the sunset together. Instead, I am driving my i4 back to the dealership as my lease is over. I am surprised to say I cannot wait.