With the 737 Max, the situation became critical. The engines on the original 737 had a fan diameter (that of the intake blades on the engine) of just 100 centimeters (40 inches); those planned for the 737 Max have 176 cm. That’s a centerline difference of well over 30 cm (a foot), and you couldn’t “ovalize” the intake enough to hang the new engines beneath the wing without scraping the ground. The solution was to extend the engine up and well in front of the wing. However, doing so also meant that the centerline of the engine’s thrust changed. Now, when the pilots applied power to the engine, the aircraft would have a significant propensity to “pitch up,” or raise its nose. The angle of attack is the angle between the wings and the airflow over the wings. Think of sticking your hand out of a car window on the highway. If your hand is level, you have a low angle of attack; if your hand is pitched up, you have a high angle of attack. When the angle of attack is great enough, the wing enters what’s called an aerodynamic stall. You can feel the same thing with your hand out the window: As you rotate your hand, your arm wants to move up like a wing more and more until you stall your hand, at which point your arm wants to flop down on the car door.
https://spectrum.ieee.org/aerospace/aviation/how-the-boeing-737-max-disaster-looks-to-a-software-developer
If my brother in law wanted to strap a J-79 engine (the kind that was on the F-4 Phantom jet interceptor) to the top of his Cessna 172 to make it have a better rate of climb,
I doubt that any software change in the cockpit would make me want to get into that creature and take (blast?) off!
Boeing, take note before you reach the point of no return.