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A few
months back I read how BMW’s new 745i had broken new ground with
iDrive, an interactive computer control system. It includes voice-recognition
software that governs 270 functions; those plus another 430 functions
can be controlled by a console-mounted “joy wheel,” with information
displayed on a video screen in the center of the dash.
While
I had trouble imagining 700 things I’d want a car to do, the implications
of this technology were immediately apparent. Voice control would be perfect
for boats. Change a radio channel, enter a GPS destination, alter climate-control
settings, make a cellphone call—the driver of a $68,495 745i can
do it all with just words. Why not the captain of a $300,000 boat or,
better yet, a multimillion-dollar yacht? He could alter his radar display
during a squall, check on his diesels, and activate and aim his spotlight
without taking his eyes off the water. Why hadn’t some boatbuilder
thought of this?
I knew
I had to drive the car. One call to BMW North America, and a sleek, silver
745i was delivered to the parking garage across the street from my office.
When I arrived to pick it up, a crowd was already encircling my car. They
were not admiring it. They were helping the attendant figure out how to
get it into park—it has no conventional shift lever—so he
could get out of it. After 20 minutes of multidialect confabulation, the
conundrum was solved, but it was another ten minutes before I could unlock
the door for my passenger. Well, every car has a learning curve, and I’d
figure this one out.
Within
minutes we were acrawl in Friday afternoon Manhattan traffic, the perfect
venue for experimentation. I pressed the “talk” icon on the
steering wheel and was greeted by a chime and message on the tachometer:
“Voice System Activated.”
“Air
conditioning!” I commanded. Nothing. “Cooler!” Silence.
After essaying a few more synonyms to no avail, I resorted to the joy
wheel and video menu. Thirty-five minutes of navigating dead ends, and
I was sweating like a stevedore. I humbly rolled down all the windows
and opened the sunroof.>
How
about a phone call? “Telephone!” I directed. “Telephone
on,” a voice replied. Now I was getting somewhere. Soon I was bragging
through the hidden microphones about what an awesome set of wheels this
was as my listener oozed envy. That was, unfortunately, the last call
I was able to make all weekend.
The
rest of my time with the 745i was, if anything, worse. I learned it can
do anything you want it to and some things you never dreamed of, but you
must conform to it. You must learn this car. It’s not enough to
read the owner’s manual, you must study it and practice. That’s
what I had to do to learn how to operate the radio. After an hour in a
parking lot, I could select an FM station not in memory, but when I tried
to duplicate the process in traffic, I nearly T-boned another car. The
GPS? Totally inscrutable.
This
car taught me some valuable lessons. One, too much technology means too
little fun. Once I shut off all its gizmos (I couldn’t figure out
how to shut off the radio, so I just turned it down), the 745i was the
most exciting, rewarding vehicle I had ever driven. Boatbuilders take
note: Unlike automobiles, boats have no utilitarian component. People
drive them for fun, and any technology that comes aboard ought not detract
from that.
Two,
good technology is intuitive. It conforms to the operator, not vice versa.
Three,
despite my unpleasant experience, I believe voice control has a future,
both in cars and in boats. BMW will work out the kinks in its system,
and I hope boatbuilders learn from its mistakes before they take their
first steps.
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