The Flying Cars are Here

So why do I feel so let down?

Maybe we’ll get the flying cars after all. Alef Automotive recently received FAA “special airworthiness certification” for its all-electric auto/aero hybrid prototype. The “Model A” can travel 110 miles as an airplane, 200 as a car. It is expected to hit the market in 2025 at a cost of $300,000.

I find myself underwhelmed.

Perhaps the curse of the technological optimist is that whenever the dreamed-of technology finally arrives, it carries with it the inevitable whiff of disappointment. Virtual reality? Sucks. Jet packs? Impractical and scary. AI? Terrifying. And now the flying car. Even if I had the 300k, I wouldn’t drop it on a vehicle that can transport me, at most, from New York City to Philadelphia. I can’t think of the last bit of truly exciting consumer technology. The iPod? Was that exciting? It’s hard to remember.

When I grew up, we still believed in the promise of gadgetry. The gee-wiz 50’s were behind us, but that generation’s futuristic optimism – ultimately realized with the first moon landing – remained. America, we thought, would remain a land of innovation, progress, and prosperity. The gizmos we would find on the store shelves would only be the most visible manifestation of that promise. Our technological future would be a shared endeavor. It had a kind of all-for-one, one-for-all majesty to it. That didn’t exactly pan out.

What happened to the future being so bright, shades were needed?

Americans are dumber and living fewer years. We’re more depressed and in poorer health. Our lives don’t feel more enriched. If anything, it’s the opposite. We’re withdrawn and suspicious. Most of us feel like the country is on the wrong track, regardless of which party is in power. I would guess that most of us share my belief that “technology,” in all of its manifest forms, has made our lives worse. Technology is increasingly seen as the exclusive provenance of billionaires, the surveillance state, corrupt financial institutions, and as a cudgel to keep the haves with and the have-nots without. The sparkly promise of technological advancement has fizzled to a dull paranoia about the devices we use and the medicines we take.

Perhaps that’s why hipsters are sprouting 1890’s mustaches and learning how to keep bees. No doubt it’s behind the burgeoning “off the grid” movement. People are talking about “living slow,” doing with less, and turning their backs on the entire consumerist shitshow. I get it, but I really have no interest in canning my own peaches.

At the same time, it’s easy to forget the marvels of our recent accomplishments. The James Webb Space Telescope. The Large Hadron Collider. The Human Genome Project. CRISPR technology, which can “cut and paste” snippets of DNA. The little helicopter we’ve got zipping around Mars. All of these technologies have the power to make people stop for a moment and wonder. They fill me with the same starry-eyed optimism I had as a kid reading old Dick Tracy comics where he could talk to somebody on a video telephone he wore right on his wrist! (I do not own a smart watch and will not be buying one. Please don’t call me on my smart phone, either.)

Maybe my disappointment with the way the future turned out is misplaced. After all, progress does not march in a straight line. It weaves and wobbles. Sometimes it takes a few steps back. Maybe it was foolish to think technology could promote happiness at all. When we think of all the best things in our lives, rarely do our thoughts towards flat screen televisions. I think my disappointment might be less about the products and more about my own gullibility.

I grew up believing the promise because I grew up believing that we could buy our way to heaven on earth. If the microwave cooked our popcorn in half the time, the washing machine got the whites even whiter, if the family car could travel five hundred miles on a single gallon of gas, well wouldn’t we all be happier? Turns out, not so much. Turns out I placed my chips on a sucker’s bet. Lots of did. It’s not our fault, of course, since the house rigged the game against us. But still, it stings to stumble out of the casino feeling like a rube.

So yeah, Alef can keep their Model A. I’ll take slow walks around the neighborhood. I’ll try to appreciate the slow seasons while we still have them. I’ll nap. I’m not anti-capitalist. I still like to be able to walk to the store and find what I need when I need it. I’ll still use this laptop, still get online. I’ll still pay attention whatever garbage the billionaire bros are trying to sell me; I just won’t buy it. And I’m not going to start canning.