Driverless Cars by Ron Steinman
If my mother was alive and we were talking about self-driving cars, she would, I am sure, use one of her favorite words of derision: phooey. I agree with her assessment, meaning who needs a self-driving car because the odds are that nothing will help most people who can’t drive even with the help of a computer. I would rather continue in the realm of The Flintstones who drove cars with massive stonerollers for wheels using their feet as brakes skimming the ground beneath them. You get the idea. Maybe there will be fewer serious accidents or maybe none at all; a saving in fuel, perhaps; less congestion on the roads, doubtful. The list goes on and you can add to it whatever you want. Really, though, I don’t care. Driverless cars for me are silly, hyped as an indulgence by techies with overly fertile brains whose so-called genius is clearly unsatisfied, underdeveloped and underemployed. If you read anything about cars, you will see that the driverless industry is having big problems preventing accidents. Maybe I am on to something. Time will tell. Finally, there is this: what if in this newly perfect world, the driver of the driverless car falls asleep at the wheel. What then? What then, indeed.