Riding the Future: My Surprising Journey with Waymo

In a world where so much of our time feels rushed or compromised, Waymo offers something unexpected: a quiet space.

I recently stepped into the future—literally—by taking a ride in a Waymo autonomous taxi to the WIRED Big Interview conference in San Francisco. The concept of sitting in a car without a human driver might sound like science fiction, but the experience itself offers surprising insights into where we’re headed.

Let’s start with the basics: hailing a Waymo feels familiar. Like Uber or Lyft, you use an app (Waymo One) to set your destination and a pickup spot. What’s different is how seamless (and non techy) the process feels. The app selects a nearby safe spot, notifies you of the car’s ETA, and once it arrives, the dome above the car displays your initials. You’re then prompted to unlock the door from your phone. A tap, a click, and you’re in. After that, a simple swipe up in the app starts the journey.

And that’s where things get fascinating—not because of what happens, but because of what doesn’t happen. To quote a familiar phrase, good design is invisible. There’s no chatty driver, no awkward debates over the music, no concern about the competence of the driver, no subtle pressure to make small talk or leave a tip. It’s your own little capsule, a space to zone out, make a call, or sit in silence without worrying about being polite. My Waymo was playing Christmas music when I got in, but I could easily change it—or turn it off entirely—without that nagging feeling of stepping on someone else’s toes. It’s an entirely different vibe from hailing a ride with a person behind the wheel with musical tastes you don’t share, driving in their car nonetheless.

The Drive Minus a Human

My ride took me from North Beach to The Midway—a long stretch across San Francisco at rush-hour chaos. It was a true stress test: trolley cars, pedestrians darting across streets, construction equipment, road closures, and the usual randomness of a busy city. What surprised me wasn’t just how well Waymo handled it all, but how natural its decision-making felt. When faced with a yellow light during a left turn, it sped up just enough to clear the intersection. When a trolley blocked the lane, it recalibrated without hesitation. When a person jumped in front of it, it recoiled back without a hiccup. It wasn’t just driving—it was “reasoning”.

Initially, I was skeptical about how fast, efficient or impersonal a ride with no driver could be. Would it be frustratingly slow? Overly cautious? It wasn’t. If anything, the consistency and precision of the decisions made the ride more relaxing. There was no second-guessing the driver’s judgment or worrying if they really knew the city. The AI had done its homework—billions of miles—and it showed.

Does that mean it’s not just a little scary? Ask Jimmy Kimmel’s aunt:

A Glimpse of the Future

Waymo’s technology relies on perception AI and prediction modeling using sensors to navigate. It doesn’t just see the road; it understands it. It anticipates movements, evaluates risks, and adapts in real time. This evolution mirrors AI’s broader journey—from perception (understanding patterns) to generative capabilities and eventually reasoning. And that reasoning is what makes Waymo feel less like a machine and more like a reliable driver on the road.

The experience reminded me of a train ride. You board, settle in, admire the view, and let the system take care of the rest. There’s no human to interact with, no bad music to endure, no safety concerns to nag at you, and no getting lost. But unlike a train, Waymo’s “tracks” aren’t fixed. Its predefined virtual lanes are adaptable, allowing it to navigate an expansive, ever-growing map of possibilities. For now, that’s limited to areas it has trained on, but the potential is clear: one day, anywhere a human can go, Waymo can go too.

The Capsule Era

Today, when so much of our time feels rushed or compromised, Waymo offers something unexpected: a quiet space. Space to think, to relax, to simply be. It’s not just about getting from point A to point B—it’s about redefining what that journey feels like.

As I stepped out of the car at my destination, it hit me: the future of mobility isn’t just about the technology. It’s about making every part of the city accessible again. While the social part of interacting with a driver is lost, the hope is that it can connect people who don’t ordinarily see each other to meet more often. And perhaps that, in a small way, can pave the way to building a true social network that relies on real world human connections—the reverse of the metaverse.