Screen Or Scream?
- Andy Gilbert
- Mar 21
- 3 min read
Let’s rewind to 1948 - post-war Britain, the idea of “cutting-edge technology” was a wireless radio that crackled with the BBC Light Programme. The world was rebuilding, and the future was something you read about in sci-fi novels.
Fast forward to 1971, when I took my only driving test in a Ford Escort - a car so basic that 'luxury' meant having a working heater and a radio that didn’t require a firm whack to function. Manual gearbox. Wind-up windows. A radio you had to tune by hand. Cloth seats that smelt of ambition and petrol and a 1.3-litre engine that roared like a beast but moved like a sloth on a tea break. It was my driving school’s pride and joy.

Six months later, my mum, either very trusting or temporarily unhinged, let me drive her BMW 2002. What a revelation. The ultimate driving machine. Everything was exactly where it should be, a place for everything and everything in its place. The car was the machine, and I was the driver. Nirvana.
Fast forward to 2025, somehow, in the blink of an eye (or a few decades), we’ve arrived at a world where cars barely resemble what we once knew. And I don’t just mean the number of them or let’s say, the questionable abilities of today’s drivers. I mean the cars themselves.
This isn’t a rant but more of a bemused observation. With the help of our ever-enthusiastic car manufacturers, we’ve designed an entirely new breed of vehicle. Change for the sake of change or is it better?
Here’s a fun fact: Way back in 1986, Buick introduced the first touchscreen in a car with the Riviera. It lets you change bands, stations, and volume with a tap. Cutting-edge stuff. Did it sell more cars? Well, despite its groundbreaking innovation, the Riviera’s sales figures took a nosedive in 1986. But, hey, it was certainly ahead of its time.
Then came 2012, and Tesla changed the game with the Model S. A fully electric car that also decided buttons, knobs, and switches were relics of the past. Instead, we got a massive screen. A brilliant, shiny, futuristic interface. Smudges, fingerprints, glare—and that’s before you even turn the thing on.
The software? Phenomenal. The information? Endless. The touchscreen? Oh, very touchy. I must have missed an IT class somewhere because suddenly, my car feels more like a MacBook on wheels than a driving machine.
And don’t get me wrong - I love electric cars. But somewhere along the way, I can’t help but feel we’ve gone too far.
Let’s take stock of modern driving "innovations":
Lane departure warnings.
Lane assist (mandatory in all new European cars since 2022).
Advanced emergency braking.Intelligent speed assistance.
Driver drowsiness monitoring.Head-up displays.
Driver-facing cameras (yes, BMW, Ford, GM, Tesla, and Subaru are watching us like an overprotective parent).
Very clever. But also a bit... unsettling? Where exactly does all this data go? And do drivers want half of this stuff?
I popped onto Audi’s website and specced a new A5 - a nice, mid-range premium car. And, as standard, it now comes with:
A 14.5-inch infotainment screen.
An 11.9-inch digital cockpit.
A bonus 10.9-inch passenger display (because, clearly, the passenger also needs to be thoroughly entertained).
Does anyone know what we’re meant to do with all this information? Because from where I’m sitting, it’s just a collection of distractions, compromising concentration and interfering with, well... driving.
And yet... here I am, a self-proclaimed relic of the penultimate decade, still trying to make sense of it all.
Oh, and for context - my new Tesla Model S Plaid does 0-60mph in 1.9 seconds. A Ferrari SF90 takes a leisurely 2.5 seconds. At that speed, do I have the time to be poking at a touchscreen? Happy days?
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