Leave stability control on!

[masraum]

Interesting commentary at Road & Track

Don't Touch That Button: Turning Off Stability Control Is Dumb and Dangerous

Don't Touch That Button: Turning Off Stability Control Is Dumb and Dangerous

Popular opinion holds that ESC is just another nanny, something that ruins the fun of driving. For most people, though, it could save your life.

I don't track this number quite as obsessively as I do my total number of races or different racetracks driven, but after some late-night spread-sheeting, I'm reasonably certain that I've now coached over 500 novice drivers on a racetrack of some sort. This year I'm not planning on doing a lot of driver coaching, so I'll maybe add 15 or 20 names to that list.

Every true novice is different, of course, but you'd be surprised at how many incorrect expectations, preconceptions, and habits they share. Maybe one out of 20 can execute anything like a proper heel-and-toe downshift. A disturbing percentage, let's say about half, need to be reminded to brake at the end of VIR's long straightaway, which is approached at speeds of up to 185 mph depending on the car they've brought with them. Otherwise, they will drive right off the end of the track and down the long grassy hill known as the "Roller Coaster."

Last but certainly not least, we have the Disengagers Of The Stability Control. These fellows will surreptitiously turn off ESC/DSC/whatever the maker calls it before I get in the car with them. More than three-quarters of my absolute first-timer students do it. It's gotten to be such a universal habit that I now actively check to ensure that stability control is fully activated before I will pull out of pit lane with a student, each and every time, whether it's our first lap together or our thousandth.

It's a puzzler: If you are going out onto a racetrack as a driver for the first time in your entire life, driving your own car for which you are financially responsible, and risking your own neck for which you are entirely responsible, why the hell would you turn off a system that is designed to prevent you from spinning the car and causing all sorts of mayhem? When I went on my first (and last) skydive, I didn't see anybody ostentatiously throwing their reserve chutes in the garbage. When I went zip-lining, I didn't see anybody who refused to clip on their second carabineer to the steel cable. So why are so many drivers obsessed with disengaging stability control?

After considerable reflection, I've decided that it's probably due to misinformation, ignorance, and pride, in about equal measures. Let's call them the Three Horsemen Of The First-Time Trackday Apocalypse, as experienced by many a BMW M-car or Corvette driver. The first horseman, Misinformation, is the fault of my colleagues in the autojourno business.

There's a standard trope in automotive journalism that goes something like this: "The Gargantua Bilgebeast 3.7 LX understeers heavily on fast back roads, but turning off ESC allows you to balance the handling with a whiff of throttle, exiting the corners with just a dash of opposite lock and two smoking rear tires." These lines are almost without exception penned by people whose closest exposure to the fabled "limit" has been watching an F1 race on television.

I've sat next to these sortson many a press drive. Some of them write for well-regarded publications. Sometimes even the celebrated and infallible British rags. Time and again I've watched them enter a turn far too fast, brake and steer at the same time, overwhelm the front tires, and mess up the balance of the car to the point that the ESC light flashes like a Morse code device in the hands of Eddie Van Halen. At that point, the hard work of all the development engineers at the car's manufacturer comes into play, the computer sorts things out, the car exits the turn slow but straight, and the person behind the wheel starts griping about "understeer"—little knowing how close he came to cashing both of our checks through sheer idiocy.

If you're flashing the ESC light on a public road, you are doing something that is extremely risky, extremely stupid, extremely incompetent, or possibly all of the above. Don't do it. Yes, I will admit to a few afternoons where I drove a mostly empty mountain road like it was Laguna Seca, complete with tire spin on the exits. I don't advocate it, and I'm not proud of myself for having done it. That sort of behavior is best saved for the racetrack.

Yet even on the racetrack, ESC has a place, and that's where the second horseman, Ignorance, comes in. Most of my novices think that ESC will "ruin their fun" or "shut them down." The fact is that you can get most cars to within two or three seconds of their best lap time with all the systems turned on. For reference, the average novice track rat is 30 seconds a lap or more off the pace, and the average "black group advanced" driver with 50 weekends under his belt is three to five seconds off the pace.

It's true that some of the very early traction and stability controls, like the ASC+T fitted to Nineties Bimmers, can be a bit overactive and kludgy. They're the exception, however, and most modern cars are very smart when it comes to keeping the car on the straight and narrow. Many of the newer performance cars, going all the way back to the C5 Corvette, can recognize the signs of track use and loosen the reins a bit. They also often have a competition or track mode.

I don't let my novices use those modes, however, because they are designed for drivers who know what they are doing. That's where Ego, the third horseman, comes into play. None of us like to admit that we could use some improvement as drivers—even if we're attending driver training! But the truth is that even the best drivers can make some mistakes. When I'm driving a street car on a wet racetrack, I typically leave all systems on. Why? Well, I've had to drive thousands of wet laps in race cars that didn't even have ABS, and I'm pathetically grateful for a system that keeps me from having to use a feather touch on the accelerator at the exit of 12 turns every minute and a half. Why take unnecessary chances for no additional fun?

Stability control doesn't get tired. It doesn't get distracted thinking about the next lap or the day job or the girlfriend or the after-trackday dinner. It doesn't get freaked-out by a car sliding in front of it, and it doesn't misjudge available traction because it failed to see a bit of water shine on a corner entrance. Consider the following: Formula One drivers are the best drivers in the world (save it, NASCAR and rally fans, you know I'm right) and yet the race teams used to move heaven and earth to install secret traction control systems to help them. If Michael Schumacher or Lewis Hamilton can benefit from a little computer intervention, so can you.

When I see my students have deactivated stability control, I ask them to turn it back on, and I explain how and why it helps them. I tell them that the day will come when they can drive a car with no computer help at all, like a Spec Miata, on a racetrack, and that on that day they'll wish they had some of that intervention back. I explain that you can actually go faster by using the ESC warning light to train yourself. When you see it flash, ask yourself what you did to upset the car's balance, and fix it the next time.

Most of them are willing to do as I ask. The ones that aren't? Well, they have to sit out the session until another instructor is willing to take my place. There's enough risk in this trackday hobby without introducing unknown factors to make it worse.

I suppose I should end with a cautionary tale. I had a student once, a really quick kid. Over the course of a few years he got to the point where he could drive very powerful cars very close to their limit. He was usually within a few seconds of me. Last month, while I was riding Razor scooters in the cul-de-sac with my son, I got a call from him. He'd made a mistake on-track. A big mistake. Totaled a $50,000 car, the one that he uses to get to work. When I pressed him on the circumstances, he admitted that he'd turned ESC off to save a half second from his lap time. His crash, a flat spin that put his car into the concrete barrier backwards, might have been prevented by ESC. This kid has talent. He has guts. And now he has a concussion that doesn't seem to want to go away. He can live with his mistake, if it helps others. Be smart. Don't touch that button.

[masraum]

And the follow up / response to all of the people that commented on the previous article.

As Long As You Think You're Fast, You'll Always Be Slow

As Long As You Think You're Fast, You'll Always Be Slow

Columnist Jack Baruth responds to critics of his last column on why turning off electronic stability control is dangerous.

Good things, they say, come to those who wait. Nearly 40 years ago, as a car-obsessed preschooler, I read Road & Track for the first time. Like many of you, I was captivated by the magazine's laid-back style and the California sports-car lifestyle described in its pages. I never dreamed that one day I'd be able to take my own son, who just turned seven, to a bookstore and show him my own name on a feature article. There's no satisfaction quite like the one you get from appearing in what I and many others have always considered to be America's premier automotive publication. For that reason, I take reader responses to what I write very seriously.

The feedback I got on last week's column regarding stability control and its usefulness for the street driver and novice track rat was, shall we say, diverse. Some of you said it was the worst thing you'd ever read at R&T. A lot of the readers claimed that ESC was "holding them back" or "slowing them down." Others felt that it absolutely reflected the experience they've had as seasoned competitors and trackday instructors.

There were hundreds of comments on Facebook and elsewhere in just the first day after the column went up. I read all of them with an open mind. Then I sat down for the evening and watched a new documentary on Steve McQueen. It turns out that there is a golden thread of sorts that connects many of your comments to a particular incident in the documentary and my own experiences as a racer. It's important enough that I want to really hold it up to the light and share it with all of you.

We'll start with Steve McQueen: The Man & Le Mans. I've been a fan of McQueen as an actor and racer for a long time now—enough so that I managed to seriously injure myself last year trying to duplicate his accomplishments in the Elsinore Grand Prix. Until I saw this documentary, however, I never knew that he had crashed a Peugeot street car pretty badly right before filming for Le Mans began.

It turns out that McQueen, his stunning female co-star Louise Edlind, and his personal assistant went for a drive late at night together with Steve behind the wheel. The roads were slick and his passengers asked him to slow down, but he kept hustling the Peugeot along. Steve had total command of the car and the situation right up until the moment that he didn't. In the blink of an eye, the Peugeot was on its roof in a farmer's field. McQueen's assistant broke his arm, and his co-star badly bruised her face.

Steve was fine.

The incident was hushed up to prevent any chance of bad publicity and until recently very few people knew that it had happened. I certainly didn't know a thing about it until I watched the documentary.

I don't think you could find too many people who would be willing to call Steve McQueen a bad driver. He was wickedly fast in some very challenging machinery. Can you believe that the man who took a podium at Sebring in a Porsche prototype could toss a Peugeot 504 off the road for no reason?

I'm tempted to close this column right here with this: If stability control could have helped Steve McQueen, who are you, dear reader, to say that you're too good to use it? Do you have any podiums at Sebring? I'm willing to bet that very few to possibly none of the people who claimed that stability control was limiting them have a single trophy from their local SCCA autocross region, much less a resume containing impressive finishes as both a car and motorcycle racer. So why do they think that they're somehow being held back by systems that, more often that not, are designed by experienced engineers with thousands of race and testing laps under their belts?

The truth of the matter is that very few drivers, in very few situations, are really being held back by modern stability-control systems. It's true for novice-to-intermediate drivers on a racetrack, and it's true for all drivers on the street, even trophy-winning prototype racers. That said, what I really want to do is talk about why people feel that they don't need stability control despite all the evidence to the contrary.

It's common for completely untrained drivers to have unrealistic opinions about their driving abilities, but they're not alone; most of the amateur racers I know cherish some elevated opinion about our talent that wouldn't stand a rigorous examination against a stopwatch or a field of top-notch pro drivers. More than that, though, is that even genuinely talented drivers are prone to underestimating the risk in any given situation. Steve McQueen thought he was well within his talent and ability on that rainy night in France when he crashed that Peugeot, but he was wrong. The fact that he was able to enter a corner at Sebring with the best sports-car racers in the world didn't make his judgment perfect in other situations.

For all these reasons we must be brutally honest with ourselves as drivers and racers if we want to not only stay safe but also improve. I'm certainly subject to that overconfident misapprehension of my own talent and choices. There are plenty of different examples from which I could choose, but I want to focus on a particular race from early in 2015. It was my first time racing the new Thunderschliefe course layout at Thunderhill in northern California. I was behind the wheel of a single-cam Neon, driving for a team with which I'd won the ChumpCar race at Buttonwillow the year before. There had been no opportunity to take practice laps before the race, so my first look at the track was when I got in the car for my stint, about four hours into a nine-hour race.

From the very beginning, I knew that I wasn't getting it done. The new sections of the track were confusing for me, and I could tell that I was losing time to our competitors. After about half an hour I started to get a handle on things. And then I saw another Neon behind me. Despite my best efforts, he quickly passed me and started dropping me like the proverbial bad habit.

If I'd had my wits about me, I would have asked myself what he was doing that I wasn't. Instead, I chose to believe that I wasn't doing anything wrong, even though the evidence of my suckitude was right in front of me. "That must be a really fast car," I told myself. "Probably a twin-cam or a 2.4 swap." I was really resentful that I had to share the track with such a clearly superior car. I cursed my team for building a piece of crap, and I resolved to never drive with them again.

Just as the other Neon was disappearing from sight, I had a sudden moment of clarity. What if it's not this car that sucks? What if it's me who sucks? What is this driver ahead of me doing that I'm not doing? I stopped being resentful and I started watching the other car's line carefully. I started by copying him exactly, turn by turn. That stopped the bleeding and kept him a fixed distance ahead of me. Then I started taking some chances, moving my braking points up a bit, testing the traction midcorner, and really focusing my attention down the track.

Within three laps, the Neon was close enough for me to see the driver's face in the rearview mirror. The next lap, I made the pass. About an hour later, I came up on him again and lapped him. The reality of the situation was that his car wasn't even close to as good as ours. I'd just been driving so badly that he'd been able to catch me. We took a podium that day, and for the entire flight home I reflected on the idea that my ego had almost cost us that race.

It can be humbling and frustrating to admit that another driver is better than you are or that your skills behind the wheel could use some improvement. In the situation detailed above, I was so emotionally invested in the idea of my superior ability and competence behind the wheel that I was almost willing to lose a race instead of just watching and learning from another driver. Isn't that pathetic?

I suspect that a lot of the commenters who said that they didn't need stability control are aware, at some level, that they really do need it, in the the same way I was secretly aware that the other Neon driver was doing a better job than I was. But for some reason they think it shows weakness or isn't cool to admit such. Well, I'll be the first to step up and say that I like having it, even though I've won a lot of races in a lot of different cars. This is in addition to driving a lot of very expensive and capable cars, from Ferraris to McLarens to Bentleys, on the track.

There are limited times when I'll turn ESC off, and they really all depend on the car and the situation. But I didn't start doing that until I was already a seasoned racer in cars that didn't even have ABS, and I only do it when I think that there's a very specific gain to be had in a certain section of the track. As an example, the exit to the Carousel at Summit Point's Shenandoah course can unweight the rear tires briefly and activate ESC. In a car that I know very well, I'll turn off ESC so I don't have a problem there. Most days, I don't turn it off. And when I drive home, I leave it on 99 percent of the time. Why take unnecessary chances?

[masraum]

Continued from ^^

What I'm going to do is to ask all of my readers to take a minute to be honest with themselves about their capabilities behind the wheel. If you're running around a track within half a second of the lap record and you think ESC is holding you back—then yeah, hit the button and hold your breath. If that's not the case, then stop kidding yourself and stop putting yourself, your passengers, and your fellow road users at risk. If you think you're too fast for ESC, you're probably wrong. And if you want to get faster, then take it from me: You can't learn to go fast until you realize that you're slow.

[Arizona_928]

I can get the esc button to flash on wot in my mk6 tdi.... Albeit first gear, and the car is completely stock.. With that said I leave it off. as stop and go traffic the traction control fights the throttle, and stalls the car....

[masraum]

Originally Posted by AZ_porschekid

I can get the esc button to flash on wot in my mk6 tdi....Albeit first gear, and the car is completely stock.

Sure, I can see that. I've been able to spin the tires in most of my cars, especially fwd when the acceleration causes load shift away from the driven tires.

With that said I leave it off. as stop and go traffic the traction control fights the throttle, and stalls the car....

In stop and go traffic, you can't help but spin the tires until the traction control stalls the car?

I'm having a hard time following this. Sounds a bit whacky

[Cajundaddy]

Stability control is designed to save your azz when a driver runs out of talent. With a green group driver that is nearly every lap. I don't get in the right seat if they want to turn it off.

For my own use, stability control is always on for street driving and also most track days. At Fontana or Laguna Seca it allows you to drive damn fast without interference and keeps you out of the gravel and walls. On tracks like Chuckwalla it becomes more intrusive as you apply higher slip angles in the ever-changing sweepers. Sport Plus opens up the stability control envelope and it is manageable while keeping you out of the desert. If I decide to turn it off I will ramp up speed slowly and weigh that potential extra 1/2 second carefully against the potential for a lot of bent bodywork.

[Arizona_928]

Originally Posted by masraum

Sure, I can see that. I've been able to spin the tires in most of my cars, especially fwd when the acceleration causes load shift away from the driven tires.


In stop and go traffic, you can't help but spin the tires until the traction control stalls the car?

I'm having a hard time following this. Sounds a bit whacky

The stability control fights the throttle position as you release the clutch. It's weird. With the esc off it will free rev the engine with no computer input. When you run the car with VCDS it will unlock all the goodies. It might just a TDI thing...

At least for VW, you only have to hold the esc for a few seconds to disengage. I know for Jaguar you have to hold the esc button down for 10 secs to disengage the traction control...

[masraum]

Originally Posted by AZ_porschekid

The stability control fights the throttle position as you release the clutch. It's weird. With the esc off it will free rev the engine with no computer input. When you run the car with VCDS it will unlock all the goodies. It might just a TDI thing...

At least for VW, you only have to hold the esc for a few seconds to disengage. I know for Jaguar you have to hold the esc button down for 10 secs to disengage the traction control...

Weird, mental note, No VW TDI for me.

[HardDrive]

I drove a 996 TT, and was having a ball. I turned off the stability control, and was quite rudely reminded of just how much car I had on tap, and how limited my skills were.

[CarreraDan]

Last winter we had one of those perfect days where the roads were clear and the sun was out, temps in the low 30's. The Cayman had been in the garage for almost a month and I had to take it out as it was killing me just walking by it not driving it. We live on the side of the mountain, road is very steep and curvy. I usually enjoy as safe but spirited drive up and down from the house. Let me tell you how great my first corner was with summer high performance tires on almost frozen pavement. PCM saved my ass big time as the car rotated 45 degrees before I could even respond. The PCM said not to worry and nicely saved my ass before I went off the side of the mountain with very little drama. Could have been a very bad day.

[Aerkuld]

I have absolutely no shame in admitting 'Please Save Me' is always on in my car, road OR track. I'm certainly no expert, but I've driven my car reasonably fast on track and never felt the PSM has held me back. In fact, I don't think I've ever felt it kick in either. Even with it on I've found you can still get just enough tire slip to tighten or widen the line through a corner without any sign of protest.

I agree with the author of the article, it's a good indicator that you're doing something wrong is the light is flashing at you. Same sort of thing with ABS, I'm generally braking at the point where I may feel a click or two under my foot, but it's never in full ABS mode. That says to me I'm braking about at the limit.

I suspect the guys who turn it off are mainly ego driven, but there's nothing manly about backing your car into a barrier at 100mph.

[wildthing]

My minivan has traction control. You can bet it stays on.

[GH85Carrera]

I keep looking for the stability control button to turn it on for my 85 911. It must be hidden. I guess it is next to the water pump and power steering unit under the ABS controls.

[manbridge 74]

Since around 2004 you cannot turn of Porsches stability control.

Yes, even if you actuate the button.

[onewhippedpuppy]

Originally Posted by manbridge 74

Since around 2004 you cannot turn of Porsches stability control.

Yes, even if you actuate the button.

Are you certain about that? It definitely applies to VW products, but I'd be curious as to your source. Lots of people turn off PSM when they track their cars, though as the article mentions it may be poorly motivated.

The ONLY time I turn off traction or stability control is in the snow around town. Most cars cut power when they sense wheelspin, which can be a real problem in the snow. There's nothing worse than trying to get across a slushy intersection and having the computer cut all power. Of course I am also driving conservatively in a 4wd vehicle, not exactly competition driving.

[masraum]

Originally Posted by manbridge 74

Since around 2004 you cannot turn of Porsches stability control.

Yes, even if you actuate the button.

Originally Posted by onewhippedpuppy

Are you certain about that? It definitely applies to VW products, but I'd be curious as to your source.

I have to assume what he's talking about is the fact that you can turn it off, but if you activate the ABS, it will automatically turn itself back on. I haven't tried to test that myself, but I am pretty sure I remember reading that.

[Tervuren]

My XK, I was hating the DSC on it and how it kicked in.

When I finally figured out how to turn it off, I learned the balance of the car much better. The XK was the complete opposite in how I had to drive it from either a race kart or my Porsche's.

After learning that, I can drive DSC on, and rarely more than hit the light for the briefest moment.

[porsche4life]

Originally Posted by onewhippedpuppy

Are you certain about that? It definitely applies to VW products, but I'd be curious as to your source. Lots of people turn off PSM when they track their cars, though as the article mentions it may be poorly motivated.

The ONLY time I turn off traction or stability control is in the snow around town. Most cars cut power when they sense wheelspin, which can be a real problem in the snow. There's nothing worse than trying to get across a slushy intersection and having the computer cut all power. Of course I am also driving conservatively in a 4wd vehicle, not exactly competition driving.

BS. Admit it. You turned it off on one of those mustangs and dropped the hammer!

[Brando]

I leave it on with my Cayman. Especially when the rear tires get low. This car loves to eat rubber.

However, turning off PSM with some fresh broken-in rubber, very hard to break loose in a long sweeper. Might as well just leave it on all the time.

[Tervuren]

I 100% dissagree with this.

Formula One drivers are the best drivers in the world (save it, NASCAR and rally fans, you know I'm right)

I have gotten to drive karts with a F1 world champion, as well as NASCAR champions.

The top guys in NASCAR are the top drivers in the world. F1 is a very special skill set that does not apply well outside of F1. The lack of visibility, the sheer speed, the complicated cars requiring constant monitoring of modes. Red Bull might be the only exception with driver talent on par with NASCAR.

But that said, to his point, the NASCAR guys would use traction control to if they could, its one of the reasons they stayed with Carb's so long, NASCAR didn't want to have to police hidden code in ECU's.

I have a tricky local track with dramatic shifts in grip in the pavement, Most F1's are so used to the smooth consistent pavement, they are about 1-2 seconds off pace. A NASCAR driver can visit for their first time, and be in less than .5 seconds after just 2-3 laps. They really are something else.

Both sports have their money drivers, and I'm not comparing those.

Originally Posted by AZ_porschekid

At least for VW, you only have to hold the esc for a few seconds to disengage. I know for Jaguar you have to hold the esc button down for 10 secs to disengage the traction control...

Its more than 10 seconds, I've timed it.

It also only uses the DSC at low speeds, above, I think 35 or 40MPH, its TC and ABS only. I guess they didn't have the quality of Porsche programming to be comfortable keeping the DSC active at higher speeds. I love it when the DSC kicks in and brakes the inside wheels when making a U-turn.

I also think the car records what goes on when the TC/DSC is turned off, and if it likes what it sees, allows the car to be more aggressive. That or I just got better at not pissing it off.

I never changed the default mode when driving a 2015 911 on an overnight test drive. I found the system to be flawless, an extension of myself in ways I don't have the control inputs to do. (individual wheel braking.) Its an amazing software and hardware package Porsche has. Jaguar, the underlying handling balance of the car isn't that great, and the TC/DSC feels sluggish to activate, then over corrects. I can get in a little too deep, and correct it myself before the Jaguar tries to correct. The Porsche 911 is reacting to every bit of dust or bump in the road, it was perfect and instant as needed.