When Robots Drive Better Than People

A week with Waymo shows the promise of automation: alongside uncomfortable questions about jobs, ethics, and accountability.

I'm writing this from Austin, Texas, where I've spent the past week living in what feels unmistakably like the future. Not the flying cars and silver jumpsuits kind of future; something more practical and immediate. I've been getting around the city almost exclusively in Waymo's self-driving taxis, and the experience has crystallized thoughts I've been wrestling with about where we're headed as a society.

The Robot Taxi Reality

Let me start with the basics: Waymo works, and it works well. The cars arrive quickly when summoned through the app, typically within five minutes. They drive smoothly and safely, navigating Austin's traffic with the patience of a driving instructor and the precision of someone who's never tired, distracted, or having a bad day. The cost matches what you'd pay for a human Uber driver, but there's no tipping, no awkward small talk, and no wondering whether your driver is having an off day.

This last point hit home immediately upon our arrival. We took a traditional Uber from the airport to our accommodation, and it was a stark reminder of the human variability factor. Our first driver was surly and unhelpful, refusing to assist with luggage that clearly fit in his trunk: he simply couldn't be bothered. When that ride fell through, our replacement driver seemed to be operating under the influence of something stronger than caffeine. Neither experience inspired confidence or comfort.

In contrast, every Waymo ride has been consistently pleasant. The cars are clean, climate-controlled, and equipped with screens that show your route in real-time. Most trips around downtown cost about $6-8 each way. Even factoring in occasional walks and round trips, we're looking at roughly $20 for transportation on any given day we need it.

The Economics Are Compelling

When you break down the true cost of car ownership — purchase price, insurance, maintenance, parking, depreciation, and the often-overlooked hassle of actually finding parking in a city — the economics of robot taxis become compelling quickly. For someone living in an urban environment, the math increasingly favors mobility-as-a-service over ownership.

For longer trips, the traditional wisdom suggests car rental for a day or more. But I'm starting to question even that assumption. If we travel to another city where autonomous vehicles are available, why not simply continue using them there? The convenience of not dealing with rental car companies, returning vehicles with full gas tanks, or navigating unfamiliar parking situations has real value.

This isn't just about convenience or cost: it's about a fundamental shift in how we think about mobility and urban planning. Fewer owned vehicles could mean less need for parking infrastructure, reduced urban heat islands from asphalt, and more space for housing, parks, or commercial development.

The Human Cost

Of course, this transition isn't without casualties. The shift toward autonomous vehicles will inevitably displace professional drivers, a category that includes not just ride-share drivers but truckers, delivery drivers, and others whose livelihoods depend on being behind the wheel. This isn't a distant concern; it's happening now, and those of us benefiting from this technology have a responsibility to acknowledge it.

Frankly, based on our airport experience with that first cranky driver, not everyone in the profession seems to love the work anyway. But that doesn't diminish the real human impact of technological displacement. People have bills to pay, families to support, and career transitions aren't easy regardless of job satisfaction.

What troubles me more than the inevitable job displacement is how some in the tech industry talk about it. There's a disturbing trend of entrepreneurs and venture capitalists who seem to relish the disruption they're causing, treating human obsolescence as a feature rather than a regrettable side effect of progress.

The Grifter Problem

This brings me to a broader concern about how AI is being marketed and discussed. The space is thick with grifters making grandiose claims about what their technology can accomplish. I recently read what purported to be an article but was essentially an advertisement for someone's "AI-Aided Management system." The author bragged that their system was "first" (not even close) and would "replace McKinsey" (ridiculous).

Setting aside questions about whether any particular system is truly first — mine has a verified two-decade head start, for instance — the "replace McKinsey" tagline reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of what major consulting firms actually do.

Remember the Purdue Pharma scandal? The company that profited from addicting millions of Americans to OxyContin, spawning the opioid crisis that has killed hundreds of thousands? When the reckoning came, they pointed fingers at McKinsey, claiming they were just following bad consulting advice. Yes, McKinsey should have said "stop" … their advice was indeed problematic. But let's be real: those pharmaceutical executives in expensive suits knew exactly what they were doing and wanted someone to blame when it all went sideways.

McKinsey isn't unique in this regard. Look up Monitor Consulting if you want more examples of how these firms operate. Major consulting companies don't just provide analysis and recommendations: they provide cover, legitimacy, and scapegoats for controversial corporate decisions. That's a service no AI system can replicate.

Augmentation, Not Replacement

My company, VSTRAT.ai, creates some presentation slides using interactivity combined with AI assistance, and we'll continue developing tools in this space. But our approach is fundamentally about augmenting human work, not replacing humans entirely. Even slide creation — which might seem like an obvious target for full automation — illustrates this principle. PowerPoint itself was a replacement for light tables and layout artists, yet it didn't eliminate the need for human creativity and judgment in crafting effective presentations.

This distinction matters enormously. Technology that amplifies human capabilities tends to create new opportunities even as it eliminates old ones. Technology that aims to replace humans entirely often succeeds only in creating brittle systems that fail spectacularly when they encounter edge cases or novel situations.

Historical Perspective

Technological revolutions have always destroyed jobs while creating others. The Industrial Revolution put countless artisans out of work while creating factory jobs. The computer revolution eliminated entire categories of clerical work while creating new industries we couldn't have imagined. The internet killed many traditional media companies while spawning entirely new forms of commerce and communication.

The transitions are rarely smooth or painless. Real people suffer real consequences during these shifts, and those of us building the future have an obligation to consider that impact. But historically, these revolutions have ultimately led to higher living standards, more interesting work, and expanded human potential.

Utopia, Dystopia, or More of the Same?

This brings me to a question I've grappled with for years: will our technological future be utopian, dystopian, or just more of the same? More of the same seems increasingly unlikely. The pace of change is accelerating, and the scope of potential disruption is broader than in previous technological revolutions.

When we left the United States years ago, Uber was brand new and didn't even function in many places. Now I'm riding in cars with no human drivers at all. The trajectory is clear, even if the ultimate destination remains uncertain.

The utopian vision sees AI and automation freeing humans from drudgery, creating abundance, and allowing us to focus on more creative and fulfilling pursuits. The dystopian version involves mass unemployment, increased inequality, and the concentration of power in the hands of whoever controls the robots.

The reality will likely fall somewhere in between, shaped by the choices we make now about how to develop and deploy these technologies. Do we build systems that augment human capabilities or replace them entirely? Do we consider the societal impact of our innovations or focus solely on technical performance and market opportunity?

The Power and the Responsibility

AI has extraordinary power when harnessed correctly. The Waymo vehicles navigating Austin's streets demonstrate this daily—they're safer than human drivers, more consistent, and ultimately more efficient. But with that power comes responsibility.

Those of us working in this space have a choice. We can be like the grifters bragging about replacing entire industries, treating human displacement as a marketing opportunity. Or we can approach this transition with empathy, building systems that elevve human potential rather than simply replacing human workers.

The future isn't predetermined. The same technologies that could create a more equitable, prosperous society could also exacerbate existing inequalities and create new forms of hardship. The difference lies not in the technology itself but in how we choose to develop and deploy it.

What Comes Next

Riding through Austin in a robot taxi feels like living in the future, but it's a future that's arriving whether we're ready or not. The question isn't whether these changes will happen: they're happening now. The question is what kind of future we'll build together.

Will we create systems that augment human potential or replace human workers? Will we consider the broader societal impact of our innovations or focus narrowly on technical metrics and market opportunities? Will we approach this transition with empathy and responsibility or treat it as another opportunity for self-promotion and capital accumulation?

The choices we make today will determine whether this technological revolution leads us toward utopia, dystopia, or something more nuanced and human. As I sit in another Waymo, watching Austin roll by through tinted windows, I'm optimistic about our capabilities but sobered by our responsibilities.

The future is here. Now we get to decide what to do with it.

Michael.