The last 20 years have seen some astounding technological advances in the automotive world.

Cars have gone from being simple machines to high-tech, complex organisms from which you can electronically find your way, book a hotel, determine how many far you can go before running out of fuel, watch a movie, listen to a Mongolian radio station and check your tire pressure -- all from behind the steering wheel.

These lavish electronic systems have been added to entice buyers but, unfortunately, something else has been lost. Modern cars are brilliant technological wonders -- who doesn't need a smart refrigerator in the back seat of their car? -- but they have become so efficient they are losing their humanity.

They are so reliable and efficient we tend to ignore them. It was so much more satisfying when you had a love/hate relationship with your automobile.

There was a time when cars were so individual that each one, even those of the same model, developed different starting requirements that ensured only the owner and others familiar with its eccentricities could get it running without difficulty.

The car's driver had a list of responsibilities and if any of those were ignored, it was the driver and occupants that paid the price, usually by cooling their heels beside the road.

Once upon a time, you knew the name of your local gas station attendants because they put gas in your car, checked your oil, inspected your rad, checked the rad cap to make sure it was tight and even took a walk around to see if all was well with your tires.

Can you imagine the look you would get from Alice in the kiosk at your local gas bar if you asked her to come and check your rad?

In the past, the local gas station took care of you because they, too, shared the responsibility for looking after your car.

Today, no one at the gas bar is interested in your car aside from pestering you to buy the expensive multihued car wash that doesn't really wash the car very well.

Cars are so reliable now that when something does go wrong it becomes a problem of epic proportions.

Drivers no longer know how to get themselves out of trouble and will wait helplessly beside the road for hours with a flat. Not that most cars don't have a spare -- it's the little round black thing with a warning that it will only last a few kilometres at slow speeds -- but the jack will be hidden somewhere and even when found, it will defy usage without a thorough training course in mechanical engineering.

I really didn't know how dependent we are on modern technology until I opened my new performance shop. I resisted buying the $10,000 diagnostic system to plug into multimake cars until I saw my new highly-trained staff (the guys who tune Tuners) resplendent in their racing shirts and, with glistening tool boxes filled with arcane selections of unrecognizable instruments, all standing around a car shaking their heads as it idled roughly.

What is the problem? I asked. We don't know, we don't have an analyzer, they replied.

Sounds like the injectors may be clogged, says I. They looked at me like I am a true Neanderthal.

Several days later, the tool company representative comes in, spends three hours adapting his demonstration computer unit to be able to analyze the misbehaving technological wonder on four tires and plugs it in with great fanfare.

Numbers scroll by, and finally a string of arcane numerals and letters comes up. A code, I am told: The problem is found.

All the staff wait with bated breath as the rep looks up the code. Clogged injectors, he proclaimed.

I like to think back to the days when your mechanic would stroll out to the car, lift the hood, listen for a moment and then exactly diagnose that the No. 3 cylinder valve spring might be a little weak and that valve wasn't opening quite right.

David Grainger owns an automotive restoration company