An e-bike motor that automatically maintains your leg speed no matter what the terrain throws at you sounds like the engineering equivalent of cruise control—and Avinox is building one, coming next year.
The pitch is clean: you dial in your preferred cadence—say, 90 revolutions per minute—and the motor internally adjusts the gear ratio on the fly to keep your legs spinning at exactly that rate, whether you climb a hill or descend, with no derailleur cable snapping, no cassette full of sprockets to clean. No rider decision-making mid-ride.
The engineering solves real problems. Derailleurs fail, get bent, and require tuning—but a sealed internal transmission eliminates those failure points.
Your legs don't want to spin at one constant speed any more than your hand wants to write at constant pressure—you naturally modulate, pushing harder on climbs because you can feel the resistance, easing off on descents because momentum changes the feedback through the pedals. That cadence variation is not a bug; it's how experienced riders read the road. The system faces a version of what happened to the Scared Straight program in the 1970s—it assumes what people need is the thing that feels most corrective to them. When you force someone into an experience they didn't choose, the system itself becomes the thing they resist.
Engineers optimize for efficiency and durability. Cyclists optimize for the feeling of being alive on the machine they're pedaling.
The article never asks whether the system has actually been tested with experienced cyclists, what it costs, how reliable it is compared to alternatives, or whether the weight and maintenance savings offset the loss of tactile control—and that silence is the story. The derailleur won not because it's perfect. Because it gives riders the thing they won't trade: the ability to feel the bike responding to their own choices.