Historian, you say. Nope, I’m a futurist. At least for the moment. And here’s what I see: the GPS is the next ubiquitous gadget, the toy/tool that everyone will have within five years. And here’s why: with a GPS, you never have to be lost again, never have to ask for directions again (what will the gender stereotypers do?), never have to contend with the anxiety of wondering if you really know where you’re going or where you are.
Three months ago, while visiting my hometown of Cleveland, a friend from graduate school happened to be there as well. Together we drove to a restaurant for a bad meal (f-ing Cleveland), and then he needed to get a gift for the children of his hosts. He said that we’d go to X, a toy store that I’d never heard of in a part of town to which I’d never been. I began sweating, a combination of worry over getting lost and profound host anxiety, because I should have known everything about C-town. He said, seeing my discomfort: “Don’t worry; I’ve got a GPS.” To which I replied: “Why? What are you, planning an invasion or something? Or are you a door-to-door widget salesman? Or just obsessed with the latest latest?” I’m funny, by the way. Anyway, his electronic navigator took us right to where he wanted to go, no muss no fuss. I bought one the next day. From Costco. Which pays its employees a living wage and gives them health care.
And I love my GPS. My five-year-old son calls it, because of the lovely mechanical female voice, my “girlfriend.” And my wife thinks it’s great. Over the summer, I took it with me on a roadtrip to Canada. Ottawa, which otherwise would have seemed overwhelming (nobody, by the way, has ever been overwhelmed by milquetoast Ottawa before), was easily comprehended.
But of course, given my neuroses and scholarly interests, I have to ask: what’s the catch? Technological dependence, I think, along with creeping imperialism. Another electronic doodad just makes me ever more reliant on stuff to keep my head above water. And maps, which have always been part of the imperialist project (see Graham Burnett or Susan Schulten, among others, if you don’t believe me), are now even more so. Using satellites, originally put in place for military purposes, only adds to the sense of dread. Plus there’s the whole surveillance state. This surely makes it easier for The Man to watch me. And keep me down.
More than that, though, I wonder what never getting lost means for people’s perceptions of the non-human world. We already have, because of an incredible array of technologies, an outsized sense of our mastery of nature — sorry enivonrmental history community, but that word is just too convenient to ignore. Steamboats made the Mississippi Valley seem small. Railroads collapsed space and time in the West. Automobilies privatized and democratized these advantages. Air travel has apparently shrunk the globe to the size of a jawbreaker. And the internet means that we’re all the Borg, right? So now what? Not only am I never alone (my trusty cellphone), but I never misplace myself. Unknown locales, which once would have seemed daunting, reminding me of my insignificance in a world much bigger and more labyrinthine than I could ever really hope to fathom, now fit inside a little box that I can bring with me anywhere and afix to my dashboard. I can even upload another set of maps so that I don’t get lost in the woods. The epistemological ramifications are pretty breathtaking.
Still, no matter the unintended consequences and looming threats, including having my GPS hector me for missing a turn, it’s only a matter of time until we all own and rely on one. (Seriously, you should buy stock in Garmin/Magellan/Tom Tom now.) Then it’s just a short trip to an increased sense that we really can control nature, along with all manner of pathway dependencies. But at least we’ll be able to get around Ottawa. Or wherever else we find ourselves.
The Edge of the American West 
10 comments
November 29, 2007 at 7:30 pm
silbey
I have exactly the same feeling about my Garmin. Although, I was actually quite good at navigating mysterious places, so I have this sense that it’s another skill I’m going to lose to technology, like with spelling and spell checkers.
November 29, 2007 at 11:30 pm
eric
I expect I’d like one, because I like toys, but I used my parents’ over Thanksgiving. Now, this was in a car, y’see, and I punched in an address across town. The thing comes up with a route, and it’s not the best route. I mean, there’s a one-way street that goes all the way across town, on which the lights are timed to give you all greens the whole way if you stay at the speed limit, and the thing puts me instead on the two-way, narrower, shopping-intensive street. No! Bad gizmo! So I start driving the way I want to go, and every block, the thing tries to tell me to turn left and go over to the other street. You can’t shut it up, at least not while you’re driving, not without causing a wreck.
Stupid technology.
It did remind me of the Eddie Murphy routine about the talking car.
November 29, 2007 at 11:38 pm
kelmanari
They’re much less useful if you already know where you’re going. In Davis, for example, it always routes us a way that is just shy of perfect. It’s not wrong, really, but it’s not right either. I’m sure the same was true in Ottawa. Had I really known my way around, I would have been slightly vexed by the GPS’s routing. But given that I had no clue how to get from here to there, it was wonderful. Again, I never had that sense of creeping dread I often get when I don’t really know where I’m going.
November 29, 2007 at 11:39 pm
kelmanari
And yes, I used to have an excellent sense of direction — one of my few truly good points, I think. I now worry that it will atrophy. Though, having said that, moving to the West Coast originally confused me. The pull of the ocean, or something like that, was always coming from the wrong direction.
November 30, 2007 at 3:05 am
eric
But why doesn’t it know the right route?
November 30, 2007 at 3:57 am
kelmanari
Because it chooses routes based on what you tell it — fastest, most highways, least highways, scenic, etc. And it can’t know that the light at Russell and B takes forever if you miss it, so it sends you on the biggest street it finds, assuming that will be the quickest way to your destination. Plus, the one you used was/is old. They’re getting better every day in every way. To think, I’m an earlier adopter of a technology than you. The world may spin off its axis.
November 30, 2007 at 2:24 pm
eric
As you know, Bob, I don’t drive a car on a regular basis. That may have something to do with it, too.
December 2, 2007 at 3:37 am
ac
You might be interested in Rebecca Solnit’s A Field Guide to Getting Lost. It’s partly about the tyranny of always knowing where you are.
December 3, 2007 at 4:32 pm
kelmanari
I quite like many of the elements of the Solnit piece and wish I had thought of it while writing the post. Thanks, ac.
May 2, 2008 at 8:36 pm
Lost. And found. « The Edge of the American West
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