Finding Freedom on the Road
Recently, I drove from the far reaches of Michigan’s Lower Peninsula to a market up in the Upper Peninsula. The trip took around three and a half hours, winding through some beautiful wilderness. Not a complicated route—just about nine turns that I’ve made countless times. So, I just went for it without even consulting my ever-reliable Google Maps.
I remember as a kid, my parents took me on a road trip from Michigan to California using paper maps. The estimated travel time was… well, a bit of a guessing game, really, and I think it probably took longer than expected. There were no alerts coming from a dashboard-mounted phone, no little cartoon car showing me the way. Just silence and open roads.
Surprisingly, I found that time seemed to fly by faster. The act of driving felt much simpler. My anxiety? It reduced significantly. We genuinely enjoyed ourselves out there on the road.
The Yooper Experience
I wasn’t driving particularly slow, managing to cruise at about 5 to 15 miles over the speed limit, which is more of a local norm in those less-policed northern parts. I wouldn’t say I was rushing, really, seeing as it was a work-related trip. But oddly enough, I wasn’t bothered by how long it took either. Far from feeling scared, I actually felt quite engaged. You know that moment during a long trip when you think self-driving cars wouldn’t be so bad? I never got there this time.
Ultimately, I reflected that my calmness behind the wheel stemmed from not using Google Maps along U.S. Highway 2. But I wanted to double-check; maybe it was just a stroke of good luck. So, I decided to give it another go.
Testing the Waters
The next day, a few kids and I took another three-and-a-half-hour drive south to visit our grandparents. I left my phone resting in the passenger seat, knowing this route pretty well. Once again, the same thing happened. Driving felt more effortless. Time seemed to slip by even quicker. I wasn’t tired of being on the road, and I even did things on impulse that I wouldn’t normally consider.
This is where it gets curious, almost paradoxical, really. You might assume that having constant updates about miles left to go, hours remaining, and precise locations would speed things up. Removing the guesswork should lead to a more relaxing journey, right?
But it turns out that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Road Anxiety
Those frequent updates, along with hearing the clock ticking, only served to ramp up my anxiety. I mean, when I opened Google Maps, it would show, say, two hours and 35 minutes until arrival, and then barely two minutes later, it shrinks to two hours and 33 minutes. Watching this feels a bit like waiting for water to boil. It’s almost like the more updates you get, the longer the trip feels. It’s overwhelming—information overload, really.
As a kid, I traveled from Michigan to California with paper maps. The predictions on timing were vague and it probably took longer—but why do we even need to know those exact minutes to our destination?
Technology’s Hidden Costs
Realizing that Google Maps added unnecessary stress made me think—could other technologies be subtly ruining our everyday lives without us realizing it? Sure, the typical suspects come to mind: the relentless global news cycle and the endless rabbit hole of social media doomscrolling. But what about the more insidious impacts? I only pinpointed how Google Maps was messing with my psychology after I decided to put my phone aside on a whim.
Modern life is incredible, filled with conveniences that past generations could only dream of. Yet, paradoxically, reports suggest that people feel more anxious now than ever. Maybe it’s time we stop grumbling. Or, perhaps, many of these conveniences are more burdensome than they’re worth.
What if our anxiety stems from having the entire world at our fingertips—being able to order anything, having endless options, receiving minute-by-minute package tracking, reading news from every corner, and getting updates on how far we have left to drive? What happens when we know too much?
