A ride to remember

An LA experience begged the question: At what point is there no turning back?

For the first time in memory, I didn’t tip the cab driver.

The ride was smooth, the car was clean and I got to the restaurant for lunch even earlier than expected.

But he didn’t open the door for me, make small talk, ask about my day or wish me a nice one when we parted. I didn’t sample his taste in music or try to guess at his national origin from the name printed in front. I learned nothing about his family, if he even had one.

Not that those communications are mandatory, or the withholding of them warrants withholding that small customary show of gratitude for a job well done. The issue was why none of those small customary niceties were offered.

Because there was no he. Or she, for that matter, or anyone else -- just me for the whole nine minutes in an otherwise empty taxi in LA.

A driverless cab.

Maybe you knew this kind of service existed in some parts of America. That knowledge had somehow eluded me until a few evenings before, when my son, whom I was visiting, was driving us to his place in Hollywood. He motioned to a white vehicle to our right which, like us, was stopped for a light, and noted the absence of anyone in the driver’s seat. And so it appeared. But my son’s a comedy writer, so I chuckled, craning my neck to see whoever was squatting below the seat to fool people.

Then the light changed and we moved forward and so did the other car -- with NO ONE at the steering wheel.

I honestly don’t know which was more disturbing – that this bizarre transformation of life as we’ve known it has taken place with cars out there driving themselves and passengers, or that Romen had never thought to mention it before -- much less try one out himself. But that’s LA, I guess, where people are blasé about everything – from running into superstars in the gym to having dispensaries that look like Apple Stores to walking around the streets sipping pot drinks the head shop was handing out for free, and not being arrested – no matter what color you are.

No, Toto, this isn’t Iowa.

All you need to summon a driverless cab in LA is the Waymo app. just like an Uber or Lyft one. It tells you the time of arrival (11 minutes, in my case) and the cost (12 bucks) and that you can’t drink alcohol or smoke or vape inside. (Who’d want to? It’s trippy enough as it is.)

The app keeps you updated on how many minutes till it gets to you and when it’s dropping off its current passenger, and how to unlock the door to get in. Also that it will have your initials emblazoned on the spinning turban-like black projectile on the roof. Once inside, a disembodied, programmed voice touches base at the beginning and end to tell you what to expect. Unmanned taxis, I’ve read, depend on humans intervening through a remote control every four to five miles.

I left animated by the weirdness of it all, in that heady way where you need to tell everyone the crazy thing you just experienced. On the other hand, you can take no credit for it. And the more I marvel at the technology that could enable such a ride, the more I return to the cold sense of detachment I felt taking it. The cab was pristine inside and out, the trip was perfectly orchestrated, but the lack of interaction, the impersonal aspect to it left you wanting. Like having Artificial Intelligence sing you happy birthday.

An estimated $160 billion has reportedly been invested in developing driverless cars, causing pressure to get on the market quickly. Critics of driverless cars like the Safe Street Rebel group highlight the risk of mistakes from the technology. Relatively small errors have surfaced like traffic jams reportedly caused by the unmanned cars riding around in circles; or running red lights, or parking in bike lanes.

They can’t be ticketed for violating traffic laws in California. Who does that leave responsible?

Other people fear adding cars without drivers increase our dependency when cities should be shifting to mass public transit

For me, forging connections with drivers, from New Delhi to New York to Addis Ababa has been one of the most enriching elements of integrating into new territories. Most recently it’s been in Baltimore. Before last Thanksgiving, a female Uber driver taking me to the Baltimore airport talked about the large family gatherings she always attends for the holiday, what each member brings and how, despite the several turkeys, one person arrives later with a pot of fried chicken, which ends up stealing the show. As the night wears on conversations that deliberately start out on neutral political turf turn political after the older men have a few drinks in them.

My next hired ride to the Baltimore airport was just after the birth of my second grandson. Hearing how busy the parents were with their second child, the male driver from Mali expressed amazement at how much new parents in American are expected to handle. Back home, he said new mothers would take their newborns to their parents’ homes for three months, where everything would be done for them and the mother’s only job was to rest and get strong.

I’ve always left enriched by those interactions. Especially inspiring has been hearing about immigrant drivers’ unique journeys here, and how driving has earned them valuable income as they found their callings.

Now I’m thinking of current-day metaphors that could be made about tech guru billionaires navigating the show from behind while closing doors and silencing the voices of immigrants and others.

But it’s bigger than that. We’ve gotten used to elevator rides, car washes, banking transactions and building entries taking place without benefit of human beings. We draw (or should) the line at AI writing poems or fiction in someone else’s voice without experiencing the human suffering, exhilaration or lessons that informed them.

Driverless taxis can be beneficial to riders who just want to get there fast and efficiently -- as long as they remain a small subsection of transportation options.

But eventually we’ll have to answer the larger question of which experiences are so essentially transactional that machines can take the place of anyone. Because eventually there can be no - well - turning back.

For me, for now, one driverless cab ride will retain the thrill of an amusement park offering. And that’s plenty.

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