Driving Me Crazy

I had a fight with Siri last week.

It was pretty one-sided, the way my fights with Rob always were. I got mad. She was silent. I demanded an answer. She said you’re welcome. All in all, it was totally unsatisfying, and the worst part was she never heard my point of view at all. Just like always.

I was driving to Tucson along I-10 at eighty miles an hour just like everybody else on the road while Siri napped beside me. She’d told me what number the next exit would be in eighty-seven miles, but somehow, half an hour afterwards, I forgot what that number was. So, I woke her up.

I think that’s why she copped that attitude.

In my defense, there were dozens of semis all around me and tiny little college student cars whizzing by, darting in and out between me and the FedEx eighteen-wheeler I was following. The wind was blowing faster than I was driving and I had to keep both hands tightly glued to the steering wheel to keep from getting blown off the road. It was very very stressful. I needed a good navigator to help me arrive alive. All I did was ask one innocent little question and, the next thing I knew, it was on.

“Hey, Siri,” I said loudly, “what’s the next exit I’ll be taking?”

“You’re forty-seven minutes from your destination,” she replied.

I blinked. That was no help. Must not have been the magical way to ask for that info, I decided. I came up with a different way to phrase the question.

“Hey, Siri,” I began again, “where will I turn off the interstate?”

“Here’s a map I found for you,” she said cheerfully. She was alone in her cheeriness. My hands were glued so tightly to the steering wheel I could neither look at the map or slap her. I tried a third time.

“Which exit number should I take when I want to get off the interstate?” I asked through clenched teeth.

“Where do you want to go?” came her answer.

“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO Me?!” I shouted across the cab of the Tahoe. But she’d put her earplugs in and gone back to sleep.

I thought when they promised computers were going to change the world that it was supposed to be for the better. I also thought Artificial Intelligence would be heavy on the intelligence and light on the artificial.

For example.

Yesterday, I drove to the west side of Phoenix to see a friend. The far west side. It was about a one hundred sixty mile excursion, round trip. I needed help navigating the various freeways I knew I’d be using. One of them in particular has two left turn lanes on the approach, separated for some reason which I can’t remember by another road with a traffic light—it’s probably the off ramp for the freeway or something. Both lanes are always full, though, and you have to line up early or you’ll miss your exit. So, I got into the first left lane I ran across. Out of nowhere, Siri burst into my concentration with that GPS of hers. Big deal. Titles aren’t so impressive. I may not have a degree behind my name, but I graduated high school with honors.

“Go through this light and at the next one, turn left,” she ordered.

I gave her the piercer out of the corner of my eye. She’s done this before.

“Clearly,” I said, “you have never driven a car. If I followed your directions, I'd have to cut off twenty other cars. Have you ever heard of road rage?”

Which begs the question—what qualifies a navigator to navigate when they don’t even possess a driver’s license or actual experience? Would we allow a co-pilot to navigate if he’d never been to pilot school? Or flown in a jet? We could, I guess, but I wouldn’t board that plane.

I got into the turn lane before the first traffic light and ignored the cold shoulder my personal assistant was giving me. A few seconds later, her voice sounded again.

“Stay in the right-hand lane for the 202,” she announced.

“Too late,” I snapped. “That ship’s already sailed. I had to make that decision on my own back where the dotted yellow lines were because you don’t answer direct questions. You should have told me sooner!”

Silence from the cockpit.

“You give stupid directions!” I said in frustration.

“That’s not nice,” she said.

Yeah, well, the truth hurts. Even if you’re a computer.

If I didn’t need my cell phone to make calls, I swear I’d throw Siri right in the trash and go old school. I don’t know where I put that Rand McNally Road Atlas, but I’m gonna pull it out and learn to read it. Then, if I head to the west side and wind up in Bermuda, there won't be anybody around to make snarky remarks about it.

Siri-ously.