Two Phones South of Milan

The New Responsibilities ~ Free Flow  ~ Two Phones South of Milan ~ 

The Black Box Problem ~ Optimization Addiction ~ The Navigator's Seat

 

On road trips, my role has always been navigator.

Traditionally this meant entering the destination, maybe checking traffic once or twice, and then spending long stretches staring out the window commenting occasionally on abandoned buildings, and puzzling out Italian road signs.

Not anymore.

Somewhere on a recent drive between Bergamo and Cuneo, while holding an iPhone showing one route and an Android phone showing another, I realized my navigation job has changed.

The old-me navigator dealt in directions. The modern-me navigator arbitrates between information systems. 

Driving around the south and east of Milan on the A58.

The New Responsibilities

The change announced itself gradually over the course of a weekend trip. Each new layer of technology brought with it another tiny responsibility, another tab to keep open, another system to monitor “just in case”.

The first big shift came from renting an electric car for the first time. We rented through SIXT and suddenly charging became part of the trip planning itself. Not difficult exactly, but present in a way gasoline rarely is anymore.

As navigator, I found myself checking range estimates, locating charging stations, and calculating whether we had enough battery to comfortably make it through the next stretch.

Gas stations have become mentally invisible to us over decades of driving. Electric cars bring infrastructure awareness back into consciousness. You start noticing distances differently. Elevation changes matter. Speeds matter. A casual detour suddenly might have consequences.

In some ways it made travel feel more tangible again. But it also gives the navigator homework.

Free Flow

Then there was the autostrada A33 between Asti and Cuneo.

On this stretch of autostrada, traditional toll booths have been replaced by a “free flow” system. You drive through without stopping while cameras record your license plate. Convenient in theory. Invisible infrastructure at work.

Except now the navigator has another task: remembering to go online later and pay.

And not immediately either, because the license plate often takes a day or more to appear in the system.

So now the navigator keeps a mental ledger of:

• If we paid and if not setting a reminder for tomorrow.
• Remembering the time we used the road.
• Keeping the rental car license plate on hand to identify the car in the system.
• Remembering what app to use to pay.
• Figuring out if we should just go ahead and create (yet another) account or just pay as an anonymous user.

Somewhere along the way, road trips acquired administrative tasks and follow-up.

Two Phones South of Milan

The moment that crystallized all this came on our return drive from Cuneo to Bergamo.

We were south of Milan traveling east on the A50 and had two options: continue north toward Milan on the A1, or swing south on the A1 to catch the A58 — the Tangenziale Est Esterna di Milano (TEEM) — a wider loop that is longer in distance but often faster in practice because it avoids Milan traffic.

Google Maps insisted the A58 was closed. 

Not congested. Closed.

Every time we selected the route, Google tried to reroute us away from it. We were still a few kilometers away from the decision point but the me the navigator felt pressure to make a good decision. Trust Google Maps?

Apple Maps showed the A58 as perfectly normal. The road signs on the autostrada also suggested no issues. And traffic reports sounded fine. (We ignored Google Maps and went on A58 and it was just fine.)

And somewhere around that point I realized I was no longer navigating. I was conducting a small transportation fact-checking operation real time. I had an iPhone in one hand with Google Maps open, an Android phone in the other checking the same route, and meanwhile I was consulting the official A58 website.

The navigator’s role now includes determining which machine/service/system is lying least.

The Black Box Problem

Part of the navigator's unease is that modern navigation systems are black boxes.

We know they ingest traffic patterns, road reports, historical data, closures, accidents, speed estimates, weather, and probably the emotional state of nearby commuters. Then they produce a route with an aura of mathematical certainty.

But the systems are always changing.

A route suggestion that worked one way six months ago likely behaves differently now. Small interface changes might alter behavior. New code is rolled out silently behind the scenes. Priorities shift, for example, for calculating routes for fuel efficiency. We assume determinism because maps look authoritative, but the logic underneath is fluid.

And unlike paper maps, these systems don’t simply describe the world. They actively shape our decisions in real time. If we had followed Google Map's advice and not taken the A58, we would have ended up in a lot more traffic and an hour more of driving. How many people made that decision? Did Google Map's error in this case (and I think it's safe to call it that) cause more traffic?

Today navigation is about dealing with a competing layering of realities:

• the car’s navigation system
• the phone’s navigation system
• traffic websites
• road authority websites
• our own common sense
• and finally, the actual road in front of us

Sometimes they agree. Sometimes they absolutely do not.

Optimization Addiction

Of course, there is an easy response to all this: pick a route and stop worrying.

And honestly, if you surrender to that approach, modern navigation is wonderful. Voice guidance, live traffic, estimated arrival times, and charging locations. It’s objectively easier than unfolding giant paper maps across your knees somewhere near Piacenza.

But modern systems tempt us with optimization like:

• Save seven minutes.
• Avoid congestion.
• Faster route available.
• Charge now instead of later.
• Traffic ahead.
• Incident reported.
• Recalculating.

Every route now feels like a live market constantly updating itself.

Humans are not particularly good at ignoring optimization opportunities once they are presented. Especially not when the difference between choices is quantified in glowing blue lines and precise minute counts.

So the navigator stays engaged. Watching. Comparing. Verifying.

Not because the systems are bad, but because they are dynamic.

The Navigator’s Seat

There is also something social happening.

While the driver concentrates on the road, the navigator increasingly manages the surrounding digital ecosystem:

• replying to messages,
• confirming arrival times,
• checking traffic,
• looking up charging stations,
• paying tolls,
• cross-referencing maps,
• interpreting alerts.

Sometimes as navigator, I'm also answering the driver's text messages while trying to sound enough like the driver that nobody notices.

The navigator used to help you get somewhere. Now the navigator helps decide which version of reality to trust.