Switch on the ignition, pull in the clutch, drop it into first, give it some gas, and slowly let the clutch out. Stall. Repeat. It’s the universal rite of passage for every motorcyclist—a fumbling choreography of hands and feet that, at first, feels more like playing ‘Will It Stall?’ than learning to ride. For the uninitiated, it’s daunting, frustrating, and quite frankly, a pain in the ass—until muscle memory kicks in, and it becomes second nature. Maybe that’s why motorcyclists love to gatekeep. Mastering this dance, which is perhaps only the first step, is a badge of honour, a secret handshake into the leather-clad brotherhood. 

But as Bob Dylan once crooned—the times, they are a-changin’. Brands like KTM, Honda, Yamaha, and BMW Motorrad are rolling out bikes with semi-automatic or fully clutch-free setups. Could this be the end of manual transmissions, as it was for cars? Or is it just a fleeting trend to lure vape-toting, convenience-craving Gen-Z into the fold? The truth, as always, lies somewhere in between. 

Automatic Transmissions Aren’t A New Thing 
 

Automatic transmissions aren’t exactly new. Honda, for instance, has been ahead of the curve for over 15 years, offering Dual Clutch Transmission (DCT) systems on the Gold Wing and the Africa Twin. Were they trying to lure in Instagram-loving teens? Not really. The Gold Wing and Africa Twin are hardly beginner bikes. What Honda is doing is moving technology forward, solving real-world problems, and making riding less intimidating for those already on two wheels. It’s the motorcycle equivalent of switching from a manual to an automatic car—less about losing control, more about gaining convenience. 
 

And if there’s one thing the motorcycle industry loves, it’s moving as a herd. When a new technology hits a tipping point—when its appeal to buyers overtakes the cost of development—it starts cropping up everywhere. For instance, BMW recently announced its Automated Shift Assistant (ASA) system, set to debut on production models in 2025. The branding feels deliberate: automated, not automatic; assistant, not controller. But beneath the marketing spin is a system that shifts for you when it feels like it, with a push-button manual override for when you’re feeling like it.  
 

KTM is doing something similar with its Automated Manual Transmission (AMT) for the 1390 Super Adventure S EVO, expected next year. No clutch lever here, but you can still shift gears manually using handlebar triggers or a foot pedal, while an electro-mechanical actuator handles the heavy lifting. Fully automatic mode? Naturally. Yamaha, too, isn’t far behind with its revamped Y-AMT system, modernised for bikes like the MT-07 and MT-09. 

Why Does It Feel Like A Trend 
 

This isn’t uncharted territory. The motorcycle world has gone through these transitions before—ABS, traction control, ride modes, and even smartphone connectivity. Each innovation was met with scepticism before becoming standard. Automatic transmissions are simply the next chapter in this saga, turning a niche feature into fertile ground for development. 
 

Yet, this shift isn’t happening in a vacuum. Motorcycling, particularly in Western markets, is at a crossroads. The average age of riders is climbing, and younger generations aren’t exactly queuing up to buy high-risk, high-maintenance, two-wheeled crotch rockets. By ditching clutch control, automatics lower the learning curve, opening the gates for a broader audience. 
 

Old-school riders, of course, are clutching their pearls (and their levers). But if history is any indicator, they’ll adapt. Kick-starts gave way to self-starts, tubed wheels to tubeless, and air-cooled engines to liquid-cooled ones. Resistance is part of the cycle, but progress marches on. 

Why It Isn’t  
 

India, too, has had its fair share of a situationship with automatics, first with the TVS Jive, then to some extent with the Honda Navi. Both didn’t quite live up to the mark. The TVS Jive was ahead of its time, while the Navi seemed to be in a constant identity crisis of being a scooter or a motorcycle. Not to mention, the lower fuel efficiency of automatic two-wheelers serves as an instant death knell in our price-conscious country. 
 

But look at the roads now, and you’ll see a flood of scooters. Is it because Indians feel particularly passionate about mopeds? Not really. It’s because they have less of a barrier to entry than big, bulky, clutch-heavy motorcycles. But remove one element, and suddenly you unlock a big, untapped market.  
 

Does that mean there will be no differentiating factor between scooters and motorcycles? Not really. If you’ve been astride both, you’ll know that there’s a very distinctive “feel” between the two. The motorcycle feels more connected to the rider—legs wrapped around its body, the weight of it, the aggressive yet grounded riding position. It's an experience that demands you pay attention to the bike, an almost symbiotic relationship between man and machine. Plus, the design of a motorcycle allows for a far more powerful engine or electric motor to be packed in. Take the Ultraviolette F77 or the upcoming Royal Enfield Him-E. 

In comparison, scooters have always been a bit more utilitarian, designed primarily to get you from A to B. While they’ve evolved, they’ve never quite had the same visceral connection to the rider. It’s a different kind of ride, where comfort and convenience often take priority over that sense of freedom and rawness that motorcycles can deliver. 
 

This practicality is where EV companies like Ultraviolette, Ola, and Revolt see their opportunity. They’re banking on clutch-free systems to lower the barrier for first-time riders, making motorcycling more accessible without diluting the experience. 
 

Clutch-free systems aren’t a death knell for traditional riding. They’re an addition, not a replacement. For every automatic scooter zipping through traffic, there will still be riders wringing the throttle of a classic manual machine, savouring every clunky shift and the visceral connection it offers. Technology doesn’t erase the spirit of motorcycling—it evolves it. 

Motorcycling isn’t about how you shift—it’s about how you feel. It’s like those rare moments in life when time stands still: a flickering bonfire in Portrait of a Lady on Fire, the blur of a Rajasthani folk dancer’s feet at Magnetic Fields, or the rush of twisting the throttle on a KTM 390 Duke. These moments aren’t smooth or polished; they’re raw, visceral, timeless, almost suspended in space and time.  
 

And that’s what motorcycling gives you—not perfection, but freedom, connection, and joy. So, whether you’re pulling in the clutch or pressing a button, what matters isn’t how you shift—it’s that you’re riding. And the ride, my friend, is infinite.