Technical thinking: Experimental vehicles

By Mark Jones

My initials were visible on the structure protruding from the roof of the white Jaguar as it approached. The car pulled up and the app signaled I could unlock the door. With a tap, the door handles extended. I entered for my first ride in a fully autonomous vehicle. I found myself alone in a car, feet away from the steering wheel and pedals, with a voice reminding me not to touch anything.

The ride required an app, as rideshares do. There were videos explaining what to expect. I had to agree to a number of things in documents that read like a software EULA. It was clear the system was experimental.

It is not the only time I’ve felt a vehicle was experimental. Every time I get into an unfamiliar car, I feel like a test subject in an experiment. I’m being tested to see if I can figure out how to operate the car. The brake pedals and accelerator are in standard positions. Turn signals are standard. We still use steering wheels. Pretty much everything else needed to operate the car can be anywhere.

The rental car had a touchscreen. It was larger than my first laptop screen, mounted in page orientation dead center of the dash. There were two knobs beneath, one for volume, one for tuning. Many other systems were controlled by the touch screen. Setting the temperature required getting through three screens. Same for sound. More screens for navigation. It felt experimental.

I’m not alone in questioning whether cars becoming computers on wheels is a good thing. A recent study concluded drivers performed worse doing simple tasks in all new touchscreen cars. The best performance came from a 20-year-old Volvo with no screen. Another study concluded touchscreens were worse than cellphones and drunk driving. It seems we’ve all been part of an experiment to determine exactly what constitutes too many distractions.

The rental didn’t have a key, it had a fob. No digging through pockets or purse, a touch unlocks — and a press of a button starts. Turns out fobs are experimental, vulnerable to amplification relay attacks. Keys may be quaint, but I never needed a Faraday cage for keys. How to unlock and start a car is still experimental.

Control locations are inconsistent. I thank Jim Moylan every time I see the Moylan arrow telling me the gas fill location. I need arrows for headlight switches, cruise control and the parking brake. Manufactures are still experimenting with new places to hide them. Think of the experimentation on the steering column levers alone. Windshield wipers could be a push, a pull, or a twist. There can be multiple twisty things on the same lever. And a button to depress on the end, too. The cruise control could be adaptive or not. It is an experiment to get behind the wheel of an unfamiliar car.

I maxed out all the safety gizmos when I bought my car. It makes me less safe when I drive other cars. My car lights up the mirror indicating a car is in my blind spot. I’m trained to go when there is no light. Cars with no blind spot indicators never light up. Their mirrors always tell me to go. My car should light when it is safe to go, no light when it isn’t. Even better, a green light and red light, making it really evident blind spot monitoring is present, and, more importantly, when it isn’t.

My Waymo ride was uneventful. I was never scared, never uneasy. I felt safer than in the first moments of driving an unfamiliar car. I felt at least as safe as a normal ride share. Hesitations gave the impression the car was figuring out what to do at times. All turns, all accelerations were measured and careful. I certainly can’t say that about every ride share or cab ride I’ve taken. It was an experimental car, as the bristling sensors announced. I never felt like I was the subject of the experiment.