By Karen Sternheimer

When driving, we interact with other drivers in ways that are often distinct from our other interactions with strangers in public. For one, our language is more limited and less nuanced than in other interactions. We might use hand gestures (friendly and rude), flashing lights, or in extreme cases, aggressive maneuvers like tailgating, weaving, or slowing down to irritate the driver behind us. Whether we are aware or not, we are in constant communication.
Sociologists consider how our interactions produce meaning during social encounters. We often come to an agreement on these meanings, as our definition of the situation is rooted in social and cultural contexts. Driving necessitates social agreements—some mandated by law, others by custom. We need to agree what side of the road to drive on, when to proceed through an intersection, and how fast to drive. We need to communicate through our cars, which come equipped with turn signals, hazard lights, and horns. Newer vehicles tell us when a car is in our blind spots, when it is unsafe to change lanes, or show us what is behind us.
Honking is our main “voice” while driving, which takes on many different meanings that most drivers know how to interpret. The gentle tap is a friendly reminder that the light is green, or it could mean we see someone we know and are saying hello. A loud persistent honk can be a sign of anger or frustration, but it more commonly is a stern warning of danger.
I tend to avoid unnecessary road communication, but recently I experienced a puzzling situation that required a long persistent honk. But there was no driver to respond to my communication.
I found myself behind a Waymo driverless car that was stopped on a residential street for reasons that were unclear. No passenger was getting in or out, nor was the light on its roof indicating a stop. I waited, confused, but quiet.
Then it unexpectedly started to back up. Surely, I thought, some censor would indicate that there was a car behind it and make it stop, but it continued, and I leaned on the horn while quickly throwing my car in reverse to avoid being hit. A passerby on the sidewalk looked on in disbelief when the Waymo stopped, and then started backing up again. And once again, I honked and had to back up; fortunately, there was no car behind me. If there had been, the Waymo would have backed into me.
Then it went forward, waited for a pedestrian to cross the street, made a turn, and I was able to get away from the Waymo. It was a troubling experience; if it had hit the car, how would I exchange information when there was no driver? Would I have to chase down a corporation to take responsibility for damaging my car?
Fortunately, there was no collision, but I was angry and wanted to report the incident immediately. The car had not behaved according to basic road expectations and did not respond to my honking. The car clearly didn’t understand that I was warning it as it came too close, let alone not to back up when another car was directly behind it. Ironically, complaints that Waymos honk at each other throughout the night has vexed neighborhoods.
I found Waymo’s website and entered a complaint under its “safety” feedback category. I explained what happened and included the approximate time and location. I received an automatic response saying that their “team works Monday to Friday and …would need some time to review” my complaint. I got a case number, and another response a few days later:
Thanks again for your feedback submission …. The trust and safety of the communities in which we drive is paramount to us, and we want to assure you that we take your concerns seriously.
After using the information you provided to further investigate, we looked into this case further and contacted the appropriate Waymo team members as necessary.
Waymo is committed to improving mobility and road safety, and we appreciate your feedback as we work to build a safer driver. If you see something else you’d like to report, please don’t hesitate to share it with us at our website.
Best,
Jessa
Waymo Support Team
The message, like the driver, seemed to be machine-generated. It didn’t reference anything specific about my complaint, nor does the message seem to make much sense beyond general corporate public relations-speak. It looked like someone imitating an appropriate response, rather than an actual response. This made me even angrier, as it did not offer any acknowledgement of the experience, let alone reassurance that it wouldn’t happen again or that they took this kind of error seriously.
Humans are not always perfect drivers either, of course. We make mistakes and can quickly acknowledge them with a brief gesture: a hand up that might be accompanied by verbally saying “sorry.” It might not appease every driver, but it is an attempt to diffuse the situation. Most of the time the acknowledgement of a mistake is enough for everyone to move on without hard feelings.
The shared construction of meaning doesn’t just make us human—it enables us to function socially. It even protects our safety on the road. What other taken-for-granted aspects of meaning construction do robots and Artificial Intelligence sometimes fail to understand?