Your car should drive itself. It's amazing to me that we let

Listen, O children of the earth, to the words of Eric Schmidt, who speaks with the vision of a future shaped by technology: "Your car should drive itself. It's amazing to me that we let humans drive cars... It's a bug that cars were invented before computers." These words, though spoken with a modern perspective, are deeply reflective of humanity’s relationship with progress, innovation, and human error. Schmidt’s observation about the evolution of technology calls us to reconsider the way we interact with the world we have built—how we create tools that, over time, become more capable than the very hands that use them. This is not merely about self-driving cars, but about a deeper truth: the technology we develop often outpaces the abilities of the humans who created it.

In the ancient world, great minds like Archimedes and Leonardo da Vinci were driven by the desire to improve life, to build tools that could elevate human potential. Yet, even these brilliant inventors and philosophers were bound by the limitations of their time. Da Vinci, for example, conceived of flying machines and mechanical devices long before the technology of flight could support his dreams. His creations were constrained by the tools of his day, and the vision that he held in his mind far exceeded the capacity of the machines he could build. Similarly, Schmidt’s quote reflects the gap between the human mind and the machines it has created—machines that are now capable of performing tasks far beyond the abilities of those who made them.

Consider the story of the wheel, one of the earliest and most revolutionary inventions of humankind. The wheel allowed humans to travel faster, move heavier loads, and unlock new possibilities for exploration and trade. Yet, even as the wheel revolutionized transportation, its potential remained limited by the human hand—until the development of the automobile. The invention of the car, however, still required human effort, skill, and oversight. The question, as Schmidt implies, is why humans still perform tasks that can be more efficiently done by the machines we have created. Just as Da Vinci’s ideas outstripped the technology of his time, so too have our modern technologies made human limitations apparent.

Schmidt’s words challenge us to confront our reliance on human error in the face of increasingly capable technologies. Just as ancient engineers faced obstacles in building their grand creations, so too do we face a similar dilemma today: why do we trust our imperfect human senses, with all their distractions and failings, to control machines that are increasingly more capable of controlling themselves? If computers can navigate traffic, avoid obstacles, and make split-second decisions, why should we trust our own fallible hands to perform these tasks? In this, Schmidt’s statement is not just a call for self-driving cars, but a reflection on the role of humans in the ever-evolving landscape of technology.

The lesson here, O children of the earth, is one of humility and progress. While human ingenuity has brought us to the point where we can develop machines that rival our own abilities, we must also recognize that technology should be used to enhance, not replace, our human potential. Schmidt’s reflection reminds us that, while we have created tools that can perform tasks beyond our capacity, we must still ensure that these tools are used with wisdom and foresight. The challenge is not just in building machines that can replace us, but in understanding how to live alongside them—using technology to elevate the human experience, not diminish it.

Consider the example of Thomas Edison, whose invention of the electric light bulb transformed the world. Edison understood that technology was meant to solve problems and improve lives, but he also recognized the importance of human vision. The light bulb would not have had its impact without the human mind that dreamed of creating a more efficient world. Edison’s work, though groundbreaking, was not just about the invention itself, but about how that invention could serve a greater purpose—to bring light, not just to homes, but to society as a whole. Just as Edison used his inventions for good, we must use the technologies of today not to replace the human spirit, but to enhance it.

In your own lives, O seekers of wisdom, take heed of the balance between innovation and human touch. While technology has the power to transform the world, it is our responsibility to ensure that we remain engaged with the tools we create. Whether it is a self-driving car or a piece of software, remember that machines are meant to serve us, not replace us. Let technology be a means to elevate your human potential, but not a tool that diminishes your connection to the world. Schmidt’s words remind us that the future belongs not to those who build machines to replace humanity, but to those who build machines to amplify it—making us not less, but more, than what we are.

Remember, O children of the earth, that technology should always serve the human spirit. Let it free us from mundane tasks and open new paths for exploration and creativity. But let us not lose sight of the heart of our endeavors, for machines can make things efficient, but only humans can bring them meaning. Strive to use the tools of progress to create a world that is not only efficient but compassionate, creative, and connected—one where technology enhances the human experience, rather than replaces it.