I’m struggling with how to begin this post. So let’s start with a summary (by Perplexity) of an idea popularized by futurist John Naisbitt.

“High tech/high touch” was a phrase popularized by futurist John Naisbitt in his 1982 bestseller Megatrends, at the dawn of the personal-computer era. His idea was not that society had to choose between technology and humanity. Rather, the more technology entered everyday life, the more people would seek a compensating dose of direct human connection, trust, creativity, care, and meaning.

“High tech” meant computers, telecommunications, automation, data systems, and the emerging information economy. “High touch” meant the things machines could not fully provide: personal attention, face-to-face presence, craftsmanship, conversation, local community, and a sense that another human being was genuinely responsible and engaged.

The phrase reflected its moment. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, computers were still associated with large institutions, bureaucracy, automation, and fears about job loss. At the same time, the culture was reacting against impersonality: there was renewed interest in authenticity, small-scale communities, therapy, spirituality, and “human-scale” living. Naisbitt gave that tension a memorable name.

It feels especially relevant now. The Internet, smartphones, and AI make communication, publishing, searching, and producing information extraordinarily easy. Yet they may also increase the value of a distinctive human voice, careful judgment, genuine attention, and sustained relationships.

I think I’m experiencing some tech fatigue, if that’s a thing. Lord knows I love me some technology (new iPhone and Apple Watch!) but I find myself looking for more “high touch” of late. This feeling has been simmering for a while but bubbled up recently when a friend of mine took his most recent run at convincing me I needed a FSD (full self-driving) vehicle. Specifically, a Tesla. He simply can’t understand why I –or anyone– wouldn’t want such a vehicle.

Sure, part of it –for me– is a reluctance to put one more dollar in Elon Musk’s bulging pockets. But the answer is: I like driving. I liked driving that old Land Rover, I like driving my  79-year-old Jeep, and I like driving Minty Fresh, my beloved old pickup truck. The Rover has a new home and the pickup and the Jeep don’t get as much exercise as they did before I got behind the wheel of the Bronco.

Some of my best memories are driving-related. That 2 a.m. trip to New Orleans with a couple of college buddies; the cross-country adventure with Charlie; my mom teaching me how to use a manual transmission; circling the local teen hangouts while listening to WLS on a tinny AM radio. And so many more. I have a hunch today’s teenage driver will be quietly monitored by Tesla and mom and dad. Can they possibly experience the sense of newfound freedom we had in 1964? Doubtful.

The idea of sitting in a Tesla (or any FSD vehicle) while cruising along a jam-packed I-70 has no appeal for me. Even if it’s as safe or safer than driving myself, it would be bore-ing. As for the argument that Tesla and its ilk are better for “the planet,” okay, sure, no argument. But I couldn’t save the whales, either.

Will I change my tune when I can no longer operate a vehicle? Maybe. But when I’m too feeble to safely operate a vehicle, what will I be capable of when I reach my destination?