Waymo and the Worship of the New

Waymo is quietly becoming one of the most fascinating players in the modern economy—not because it moves people from one place to another, but because it reveals something about why we move like we do.

It’s easy to lump it in with Uber or Lyft. They’re all “transportation platforms.” They all show up on your phone. But Waymo has pulled off a trick that the ride-share giants haven't: they’ve removed the human element entirely. No awkward small talk. No wondering if your driver is stressed, tired, or listening to dubstep at 6:00 a.m. That's the real magic: by removing the human, Waymo has added a story people desperately want to be part of.

The Market Power of Being “First”

Waymo sits in that shimmering part of the market where novelty and "courage" mingle. Its riders aren’t just getting from point A to point B. They’re participating in a modern rite of passage: “I rode in a fully self-driving car.” There’s a distinct social currency in being early to the future. It’s the same energy that made people line up for the first iPhone or pay a premium for Tesla’s early models. Humans love to be seen as daring—not like reckless daring, just enough daring to post about it on social media and feel interesting at dinner parties. Waymo gets this. They’re not selling convenience. They’re selling status – one of the few things people will happily pay extra for.

We Pay for What We Want to Be

In classical economics, consumers are rational. Prices matter. Efficiency rules.

In real life? Not so much. Human beings are deeply symbolic creatures. We crave meaning even in the mundane. That’s why a self-driving taxi is more than transportation—it becomes a statement. Riding in a Waymo is like saying, “I’m not afraid of the future.” It says, “I trust this new world.” It says, “Look at me, boldly riding into the new frontier.”

This willingness to associate ourselves with powerful, novel brands is precisely what gives Waymo early market strength. Even if a Waymo ride costs more, people will still choose it because it feeds something inside them that an ordinary Lyft just can’t reach. The spreadsheet says, “This is irrational.” Biblical Anthropology says, “Of course you’re doing that; the heart is always longing after something.”

What Does All This Reveal About Us?

Waymo’s rise is a parable of desire. When we rush toward the cutting edge, it’s often because we’re trying to outrun something more ordinary: limitation, fear, boredom, or just the uncomfortable reality of being human. Waymo promises a kind of mastery: sit back, relax, and let the machine (literally) take the wheel. But Christian anthropology reminds us that ease isn’t the path to meaning. Formation is. The heart is shaped through dependence, humility, and a life lived with others. A life with… humans.

So while Waymo may dominate its lane—and likely will—it won’t satisfy the deeper hunger that underlies our fascination with the new. It can get us anywhere except the one place we truly need to be: a whole person.

The Market Is Noisy, But the Heart Is Predictable

Waymo will succeed because it's tapping into something ancient: our desire to be aligned with power, novelty, and transcendence. This is the same impulse that drives markets to both brilliance and ruin. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with enjoying the marvels of innovation. Ride the robotaxi (maybe after 6 months to a year). Smile at the future. But don’t mistake the machine for a meaning-maker. Don’t let novelty disciple your heart.

Technology might take the wheel for a ride, but it should never take the wheel of your life.

And that’s the quiet irony: in a world obsessed with autonomous vehicles, the human heart still refuses to be automated. It insists on steering

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