The Heebie-Jeebies of a Driverless Tesla
As I sat in the driver’s seat of my self-driving Tesla, I experienced a rare case of the heebie-jeebies. Yes, anxiety crept up every rung of my spine. I had put my life in the hands of artificial intelligence.
Quite a risk-taker, I thought. Quite a brave guy—willing to try something new, exciting, and potentially deadly.
I typed in the address, turned on the car, and watched the steering wheel move without my hands touching it.
“OMG! I can’t believe I’m sitting in an autonomous vehicle, and it’s actually traveling down the road. And I ain’t in control!”
Two questions collided in my mind:
Is it too late to pray?
And:
Is there a Hebrew prayer for a passenger in a driverless car?
Following in the footsteps of Tevye the Milkman, I quickly placed my hands on the dashboard, dug my fingernails into the plastic, and composed my own prayer:
“Almighty, wrap this vehicle in a shield of protection, as You are in the driver’s seat of my life. Even while an AI computer guides this driverless car, I trust the road, I trust Your protection, and ask for a smooth and safe arrival. Amen.”
“Not bad,” I thought, “for a secular Jew who is afraid of losing his life.”
As I began to relax, I remembered watching my Roomba crawl across the hot brown tiles of my patio. As it picked up dirt, it hummed contentedly, and I smiled.
“I’ve entered the Age of Robotics.”
Then there was my Creepy Crawly, chugging and clattering around the bottom of my swimming pool, sucking up debris. I admired my primitive robots.
Primitive, perhaps.
But reliable. Durable.
And, most importantly, they had never asked me to surrender control of my life.
As I kept my eyes on the road, a reel of Hollywood memories began scrolling through my brain: Gort, R2-D2, C-3PO, the T-800, Robby the Robot, and Rosie the Maid.
I smiled.
“When,” I wondered, “will humanoid robots enter my sphere?”
After waiting more than a decade, robots were finally entering my life.
I had already seen several Starship delivery robots chugging along the sidewalks of Miami, transporting cups of dark café Cubano and golden-orange guava pastelitos to hungry customers.
I had also watched Waymo taxis cruising the streets of Miami Beach, delivering passengers without a human driver behind the wheel.
The robots were here.
They were no longer confined to Hollywood movies, science-fiction novels, or my swimming pool.
But there was still one question that bothered me:
When would I finally meet or interact with a humanoid robot?
And, more importantly, would that encounter give me the heebie-jeebies?
After all, there is a big difference between trusting a robot to clean your patio…
and trusting one to look you in the eye.
