The circuit of the world's major auto shows begins in early fall and goes from Frankfurt (odd number years) to Tokyo, Detroit, Geneva, and finally New York, in April. These are the major shows because they're where the most car intros occur, even if other shows draw more non-press show goers (Chicago, for example). And these shows are in danger of becoming unwieldy, because the media swarm dwarfs the ability of the venues to accommodate us. It all could implode.

As coverage increases, many of the automakers are turning press conferences into staged performances. Dancers in short shorts supplant Q&A sessions (not that I'm complaining). If you're watching a live webcast during press days or seeing a video clip the next day on one of the auto, sports, or cable news channels, you're not going to learn a lot about the cars. This isn't for lack of people trying to cover the shows. A couple dozen car Web sites routinely send a dozen people each, as do business newspapers. Even Consumer Reports has a flock of people on hand writing blogs (judge for yourself that's worthwhile) and making videos. We're tripping over each other's feet. At Detroit, for instance, some 6,000 people were credentialed; we're lucky if there are 600 seats at the most major of press conferences.

I thought the BS factor was pretty high in the computer and consumer electronics industries—ever meet Philippe Kahn of Borland? At least he knew what he was talking about—but automakers stake out altogether higher ground. "All new" means "new" and "new," means "2008 model." To be fair, none hold a candle to Hollywood's hype level, and possibly Washington DC's. (Q: How do you know a movie producer is lying to you? A: His lips move.)

Press conferences at auto shows are typically sequenced half an hour apart, and only one at a time. (Imagine that at the monstrous Consumer Electronics Show.) If you want to get a seat, you've got to blow off the previous press conference to get there early enough; and if you want to sit up front to get the right angle for photos, you may have to blow off the previous two. So much for an efficient workday. I've found it's only worth going to the two or three most important press conferences, and for the others, just troll the booths after the conference ends. The coverage effort isn't helped by jet lag, long rides from remote hotels, late press receptions, and open bars even at early-morning press conferences. Nor by having to lug dozens of bulky press kits, when all you need is a CD and a printout of the specs.

Why does this matter? If life gets tougher for journalists, so what? Good question. You may be looking at less coverage, as editors follow the Yogi Berra aphorism that a place has become so popular, nobody goes there anymore. Meanwhile, look for car news popping up from other sources. The Los Angeles Auto Show in November is relatively under-covered, which is why I'm going back. (And I've got a bet with some auto-writer friends that it replaces Detroit as the top U.S. show in five years, maybe, and for sure in ten.) In this case, going Hollywood isn't a bad thing.

CES, a bigger zoo than the auto shows and also in need of a reduction of attendees (not just fewer press), has a strong car-tech presence, but it's easier to schedule one-on-one appointments there, since the car people are glad to see you. SEMA, the mid-fall showcase of auto speciality parts, is now a proving ground for new-car tech. Then there are industry-insider shows brimming with tech news, led by SAE's Convergence in Detroit every two years and dozens of smaller affairs such as the Telematics Update forums. Watch them for news—more online or in print than on CNN or Speed Channel—about what's really important in next-generation cars.

None of this affects the auto show you go to during public days, once the press decamps. It's still fun to see audacious new cars, even if you're probably not going to learn a lot about car technology except on a superficial level. But then, auto shows are about themes, headlines, and dreams—not details.