Toyota is experiencing an issue in Australia that cannot be resolved with a software update.
The rise in thefts of popular models has been well documented, and the methods used – including CAN bus injection and OBD injection – have led to many owners suddenly thinking about old-school security again. No alarms. No trackers. Physical deterrents. You can see something like this from the street.
That’s the context for Toyota’s Genuine Steering Wheel Lock, a roughly $200 accessory offered as an easy way to add an extra layer of protection to vehicles already on the road. In theory, it’s the kind of product you buy for peace of mind – something that looks solid, feels good in the hand and will hopefully force a thief to move on to an easier target.
So we put this theory to the test with an angle grinder.
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The structure was deliberately kept simple. A steering wheel mounted on a board, every lock attached as they would be on a car, and a battery-operated sander the likes of which one could realistically imagine being used in a driveway at 3:00 a.m.
The crucial question was not whether the locks can be bypassed – almost anything can be cut with the right tools – but whether the high-priced original accessories actually save a lot of time compared to the cheap devices.
We’ve put together a small group of steering wheel locks from across the price spectrum, including a budget model around the $30 mark, another slightly more expensive option at $40, a mid-range “yellow” design for $175 with a bulky plastic exterior, and the real Toyota lock at the top of the pile.
The benchmark was 60 seconds. If a lock could withstand a grinder for a minute, it would at least force a thief to create sustained noise, sparks, and attention. If this is not possible, the deterrent effect will depend on appearance rather than real resistance.
The first result was the most amazing: the cheapest lock was ready in 15 seconds and it hardly looked like the mill had broken a sweat. That’s the kind of time frame in which a thief doesn’t have to rush, doesn’t have to panic, and doesn’t have to worry about the tool eating up the windows.
The next lock – only about $10 more – didn’t change the outcome much. It added about 10 seconds, which sounds like something on paper, but in practice it’s still over almost as soon as it starts. We’re talking about a window through which most people in the house would either be sleeping or would assume someone was nearby cutting pavers or doing early morning chores.
Then we moved on to the larger, more substantial mid-range castle – the one that looks like it should be a real step up. That wasn’t it. It took a little longer, but the realization remained the same: spending more money only meant a small gain in time.
We also took a closer look at the construction and cut open the bulky section to see who was actually doing the work. Once the plastic shell was breached, the underlying reality was hard to ignore. It’s still made of steel, still shaped to provide points of attack, and still vulnerable to a tool designed to quickly eat away at metal.
And that’s exactly what makes the original Toyota lock so important in this test. At $200, the price doesn’t feel like a novelty. The price resembles a technical solution – something that should make the cheap locks look like toys.
Instead it took about 20 seconds.
That’s not a typo. About five seconds more than the budget option.
Worse, the design itself seemed to give the mill an easy starting point, and once it had a bite, it was all over. At this point, it’s hard to argue that the original equipment offers value commensurate with its asking price, even if Toyota effectively subsidizes it compared to the cost in other markets.
There is another unpleasant detail here: the grinder used was not perfect. There were occasional interruptions. In other words, these times weren’t necessarily the best scenario for a thief. With a better tool—or simply one that doesn’t stop and start—the gap between “hard” and “easy” shrinks even further.
We also looked at an even quicker method: Instead of cutting the lock, cut the steering wheel itself. The section tested lasted about six seconds. This is the kind of workaround that makes every single physical security device seem weak because it reminds you that thieves don’t have to play by the rules of product design.
So what’s left for Toyota owners?
A steering wheel lock can still have value as a visual deterrent. It tells the opportunistic thief to move on. It can push someone toward a softer goal. However, if you’re buying a device with the expectation that it will hold up to an angle grinder long enough to matter, this test suggests you need to reset your expectations – especially if you look at the original accessory and think it’s in a different league.
If anything, the results make a stronger case for layered security: visible deterrents, immobilizer solutions where possible, and a mindset that assumes that a determined thief with the right tools can defeat almost anything in just a short amount of time.
And that’s the sting in the tail. The real lock isn’t useless – but at $200 it’s hard to justify when it works only marginally better than something that’s a third the price.
