The selfishness of this city’s drivers never fails to ruin my day. How do I get from A to B without wishing punishment and retribution on my fellow commuters?

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Help Me Hera! 

Why do I see Auckland driver behaviour (not letting people merge, tailgating, etc) as a manifestation of the mindset of the selfish, petty, discount-briscoes-deck-furniture consumers that I believe middle New Zealand to be? 

 Because actually that driver might be Jesus or a health-care worker or some other saintly figure, just a stranger on the bus (but not on the bus, in a Kea SUV) trying to make it on time to pick up their kid from daycare? 

Or maybe the selfish, get-out-of-my-way behaviour is actually just inattentiveness, because the driver lost their uncle last week, and that uncle bullied them badly so they don’t know whether to feel sad or angry, and therefore parking their Range Rover across two parking spaces is not the deliberate, arrogant, entitled power move that I see it as. 

Sitting oblivious and stationary at a green light on a short phase at the front of a queue of cars waiting to turn right and then noticing just as the light turns amber and sneaking through alone is not a crime that justifies extreme and dark punishment BUT I feel like it is. 

Is it? 

Does my self-righteous, seething anger achieve meaningful change? No, obviously, but how can I shift my resentment at this perceived injustice, because it never makes me feel good, always seething and itchy. 

 How can I rise above this murky and solipsistic mind-soup that is my car-brain so that I don’t  drive around Auckland City militantly occupying two lanes to prevent queue jumping and spitting out my window at Tesla drivers?

William Foster

Dear William Foster,

This problem reminds me of one of my favourite tweets: 

As a non-driver, I’m probably not the best person to answer your question, although I do sometimes get supermarket trolley rage, when people block the cleaning products aisle or plane rage when departing a crowded flight. Who are these people that immediately rush towards the exit? Surely they’re not all on their way to perform emergency brain surgery. 

I would describe myself as a calm person, someone you might find leaning rakishly against a fence with a wheat stem in my mouth. But there’s something about this petty selfishness that really brings out my inner hall monitor.

Here in 2024, it’s even harder to forgive small acts of brazen selfishness, because it seems like a wider metaphor for New Zealand’s “landlord on board” entitlement complex. It’s easy, when furious, to extrapolate small incidents of rudeness into a wider sociopolitical pathology, especially when the person who cut you off in traffic is driving a Tesla. 

While your anger is, in my opinion, justifiable, sadly it’s even less helpful in traffic than on a crowded flight. The potential for violence is just too high. People are insane. You don’t want to get into a confrontation with someone operating a piece of heavy machinery. Don’t put yourself at risk. 

This is an interesting problem because you can’t really do anything about it. These people are strangers. You have no control over their behaviour. Getting mad about it only ruins your day. On the other hand, I think there’s a kind of freedom in futility. If the only thing you can control is your reaction, then maybe it’s time to get creative. 

I find flying so stressful that I have an elaborate workaround to make the experience more relaxing. I always arrive at the airport at least two hours early, even on a domestic flight. I pack a book I’ve been looking forward to reading and sit and have a coffee. I always book a window seat. Not only for the aerial view of grazing cows, but because it means I have the option to sit and read while everyone else frantically disembarks. I am often the very last person on the plane. It’s not very time-effective, but it brings me peace.

If part of your stress comes from the fear of being late, get into the habit of leaving ten minutes early. Perhaps there’s a more scenic route you can take, which might add a little extra time to your journey, but will allow you to bypass the highways. 

Could you cynically hang a “baby on board” sign on your car in an attempt to engineer some fake compassion? Baby havers, share your experiences in the comments. 

Then there’s the cognitive therapy approach. Having compassionate thoughts about people’s motivations might work for the spiritually enlightened. But it’s a hard imaginative fiction to sustain. Instead of trying to believe the dickhead in the SUV is late for his job at the bomb disposal squad, why not pretend he’s moments away from catastrophically shitting himself, and is hooning towards the nearest public restroom. Another imaginative possibility: think of the very worst driver you know and love. My granddad (RIP) was the kind of driver to whom spontaneous U-turns in heavy traffic came as naturally as breathing. If you don’t have a beloved relative who ought to have their licence confiscated, feel free to borrow mine. 

Personally, I’m most inclined towards constructive nihilism. Maybe the path of least resistance is simply to accept that everyone with a current driver’s licence is simply a hateful and evil individual who has nothing but wet mice for brains. At least, in a vehicular context. 

While this might not sound like a recipe for compassion, I think that some of your anger has to do with high expectations. Maybe if you resign yourself to expecting the worst, you’ll be less vigilant about policing individual transgressions. 

I’ve had the opportunity to visit a few countries which are notorious for their terrible drivers, and one thing which always struck me was the equanimity of my hosts, as they serenely navigated the highways. I think this must bear some relationship to the chaos of their situation. If everyone on your national highway drives like a maniac, you’re less likely to take it personally, as if it were simply a natural phenomenon, rather than an expression of people’s worst impulses. 

I think the best advice I can give to anyone dealing with an unpleasant situation they have no agency over, is to find a way to turn a chore into a pleasure. Easier said than done. But I think there’s some truth in this. If you are a person who hates cleaning the house, my advice would be to smoke a joint, put on Scott Walker, and try to salvage some joy out of it. If you are a person who hates exercise but needs to get out of the house, pick an engrossing audiobook, choose the most scenic route, and stop by the dairy on your way home and buy yourself a dollar mix. If you hate commuting, make your car a small heaven. Is there a podcast or album you really love? Save it exclusively for your drive. Test out different kinds of music. Are you blissed out by Bach’s Goldberg Variations, or does Slipknot make you feel paradoxically calm? What about carpool karaoke? Heavy traffic is a great time to belt out all the show tunes you don’t want your flatmates overhearing. Are you amenable to bribery? Grab a coffee along the way. Small routines. Minor pleasures. 

My last suggestion is to practice the kindness you’d like to see on the road, with no expectation of reciprocity. Allow yourself to be overtaken. Let people in. Not because it’s the Right Thing To Do. But trying to make a habit of vehicular generosity will put you in a more relaxed and forgiving mindset. Even if nobody else appreciates your kindness, you’ll feel better, and that’s the main thing. 

Good luck and stay safe out there.