The blue line was unequivocal: THIS WAY it said, showing the most efficient route across the bridge and to the airport. And who was I to doubt it? It was Google Maps, after all. And while you might be the Waze type, the sentiment is likely the same. Countless trips to here and there have proven its efficaciousness. And so it's gotten that I activate it for almost any trip more than just a few miles from our house, trips I've taken hundreds of times on routes I know like the back of my hand. Because, plain and simple, it knows more than me.
That knowing is the sum total of the all of the factors involved in any journey. It starts with the actual roads that I need to get me to my destination. Sure, there are sometimes options I hadn't thought of, shortcuts or tweaks that shave off a few minutes here or there. Just as likely, it might override a lack of focus that makes me miss the turn off I knew was there. I can't count the number of times I've flown by a cutoff I've taken oodles before because I was thinking about a project, or trying to remember what I need to get at the store, or drumming on the steering wheel to Steely Dan.
But it's more than the route itself. The genius of these mapping programs is in the crowd sourcing of the data on the movement of millions of people. Slowing down is but one isolated fact. However, when you aggregate that with all the other drivers doing the same thing, the blue line turns to red and we all know there's a delay at that spot. Ignore that at your peril, or at least, inconvenience.
Just last month a neighbor and I were returning home after dinner a few towns away. We both knew the route, could drive it in our sleep. But sure enough we rounded a curve on the highway to find that traffic had ground to a stop. Seemed a tree had fallen across the road, halting all forward progress. Had I had my phone in play, the likelihood is that we would have avoided the delay, and taken an earlier exit.
On this particular morning, the suggested route seemed fine. But it bypassed an alternate I liked that had several gas stations, and I needed a fill up. Experience said that the difference between the two routes was negligible, more a matter of preference for staying on the highway than any real time savings. Indeed, most times the program showed the option as "Same ETA" or a minute or two slower.
Not this time. My preferred alternate was displayed as "42 minutes slower." A good thing to avoid, to be sure. But something didn't smell right. At that hour of the morning, going away from the city, unless there was a major accident closing off the road completely, and the detour went by way of a dirt track through Kansas, there was no way the difference should be that stark. I had a few extra minutes built into my schedule, so I threw caution to the wind, cut across two lanes and headed into the known unknown.
Almost as soon as I made the move, the program recalculated my estimated arrival time. And moments later it handed up the verdict: 2 minutes more than the prior suggested route. It had lied to me. No harm, no foul, but why? Was it a new wrinkle in the algorithm that tried to reroute a given number of travelers in order to maintain traffic flow? Was it social engineering, sending certain originating zip codes onto certain roads? Was it the results of a negotiation with the local town for better Google Ad placement in return for less potential pass throughs? Or was it merely a simple computational error? After all, with apologies to Freud, sometimes a detour is just a detour.
We can't count on most of what comes out of Washington. The press hardly holds the exalted status it once did. Even science is struggling to be regarded as a paragon of facts. I always thought that at least I could trust lines on a screen. But if even Goggle Maps is not beyond reproach, who can I trust?
-END-
Marc Wollin of Bedford loves maps. His column appears regularly in The Record-Review, The Scarsdale Inquirer and online at http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.
That knowing is the sum total of the all of the factors involved in any journey. It starts with the actual roads that I need to get me to my destination. Sure, there are sometimes options I hadn't thought of, shortcuts or tweaks that shave off a few minutes here or there. Just as likely, it might override a lack of focus that makes me miss the turn off I knew was there. I can't count the number of times I've flown by a cutoff I've taken oodles before because I was thinking about a project, or trying to remember what I need to get at the store, or drumming on the steering wheel to Steely Dan.
But it's more than the route itself. The genius of these mapping programs is in the crowd sourcing of the data on the movement of millions of people. Slowing down is but one isolated fact. However, when you aggregate that with all the other drivers doing the same thing, the blue line turns to red and we all know there's a delay at that spot. Ignore that at your peril, or at least, inconvenience.
Just last month a neighbor and I were returning home after dinner a few towns away. We both knew the route, could drive it in our sleep. But sure enough we rounded a curve on the highway to find that traffic had ground to a stop. Seemed a tree had fallen across the road, halting all forward progress. Had I had my phone in play, the likelihood is that we would have avoided the delay, and taken an earlier exit.
On this particular morning, the suggested route seemed fine. But it bypassed an alternate I liked that had several gas stations, and I needed a fill up. Experience said that the difference between the two routes was negligible, more a matter of preference for staying on the highway than any real time savings. Indeed, most times the program showed the option as "Same ETA" or a minute or two slower.
Not this time. My preferred alternate was displayed as "42 minutes slower." A good thing to avoid, to be sure. But something didn't smell right. At that hour of the morning, going away from the city, unless there was a major accident closing off the road completely, and the detour went by way of a dirt track through Kansas, there was no way the difference should be that stark. I had a few extra minutes built into my schedule, so I threw caution to the wind, cut across two lanes and headed into the known unknown.
Almost as soon as I made the move, the program recalculated my estimated arrival time. And moments later it handed up the verdict: 2 minutes more than the prior suggested route. It had lied to me. No harm, no foul, but why? Was it a new wrinkle in the algorithm that tried to reroute a given number of travelers in order to maintain traffic flow? Was it social engineering, sending certain originating zip codes onto certain roads? Was it the results of a negotiation with the local town for better Google Ad placement in return for less potential pass throughs? Or was it merely a simple computational error? After all, with apologies to Freud, sometimes a detour is just a detour.
We can't count on most of what comes out of Washington. The press hardly holds the exalted status it once did. Even science is struggling to be regarded as a paragon of facts. I always thought that at least I could trust lines on a screen. But if even Goggle Maps is not beyond reproach, who can I trust?
-END-
Marc Wollin of Bedford loves maps. His column appears regularly in The Record-Review, The Scarsdale Inquirer and online at http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.
