The independence once represented by the car has been replaced by

When John Zimmer said, “The independence once represented by the car has been replaced by cell phones and social networks, which are now at the forefront of people's expression of freedom and access. Once a symbol of 'coming of age,' many drivers are waiting longer to get their licenses,” he was not merely speaking of technology — he was speaking of the shifting nature of freedom itself. His words capture the spirit of a changing age, one in which the symbols of liberty have moved from the open road to the digital world. The car, once the chariot of dreams and the emblem of youth’s awakening, has given way to the glowing screen — a new kind of vehicle, one that travels not through space, but through connection.

The origin of this quote lies in Zimmer’s reflections as the co-founder of Lyft, one of the great pioneers of ride-sharing. Having observed the habits of a new generation, he recognized that the meaning of mobility was evolving. For much of the twentieth century, the automobile stood as the ultimate expression of independence — the power to go wherever one pleased, whenever one wished, beholden to no one. To drive was to declare oneself free. But as technology advanced, the young began to find their liberation elsewhere — in cell phones, social networks, and instant communication, which offered a different kind of access: not to places, but to people, ideas, and worlds unseen.

Zimmer’s insight speaks to a profound transformation in human values. In earlier times, freedom meant movement through the physical realm. The car was more than steel and wheels — it was a metaphor for adulthood, ambition, and individuality. It promised escape from the confines of home, from the authority of parents, from the boundaries of one’s small world. Yet in the digital age, the young seek not to travel outward, but inward and across. Their freedom lies in connection, not in distance — in being able to reach others, to express themselves, to exist beyond geography. The steering wheel has been replaced by the touchscreen, and the open road by the infinite expanse of the internet.

But as with all transformations, there is both gain and loss. The ancients would have seen this as the eternal cycle of progress — that every new form of power carries its own captivity. The car once symbolized autonomy but brought traffic, pollution, and isolation. The cell phone connects the world but threatens the depth of human presence. Zimmer’s words remind us that each generation must rediscover what it means to be truly free. Freedom, he suggests, cannot be bound to any object — not the car, not the phone, not the screen. It is a state of being that must evolve with the spirit of the age.

Consider the story of Henry Ford, who once believed that by putting the car within reach of the common man, he would liberate humanity. And indeed, for a time he did — he gave people the power to leave their towns, to explore, to see the horizon with their own eyes. But in time, the car became not a symbol of freedom, but a necessity, a burden, and for many, a prison of routine. So too, the modern world risks mistaking connectivity for liberty. The power to communicate instantly is wondrous, but if it enslaves the mind to constant noise, it is no more a freedom than the traffic jam is a journey.

Zimmer’s observation, then, is not one of lament but of recognition. He calls us to see that the nature of independence is fluid, changing with the tools and desires of each generation. Just as the horse gave way to the car, so too the car yields to the digital network. Yet beneath the surface, the longing remains the same — the longing to feel alive, to make one’s mark, to reach beyond the limits of circumstance. The wise must therefore not cling to the symbols of the past, but ask instead: what does freedom mean now? And how can we ensure that in seeking connection, we do not lose ourselves?

So, my children of the modern age, take heed of this teaching: true independence does not come from machines, but from the mind and heart. Whether you drive upon the highways of the world or navigate the invisible roads of the internet, do not forget that the journey of freedom begins within. Let your tools serve your purpose, not define it. Seek balance between motion and stillness, between connection and solitude. For the road to freedom is eternal — it changes its form but never its direction — always leading those who are awake toward self-knowledge, purpose, and the joy of living deliberately.