Paradox: why good people become bad behind the wheel

There's a feeling that in recent times the car has changed not just on the outside. The people behind the wheel have changed too. No, this isn't about how "drivers used to be more courteous." Every generation loves to tell stories about how, back in the day, everyone gave way, flashed their hazards in thanks, and smiled at each other at junctions. That's probably as much of a myth as the tales about cars being more reliable in the old days and the grass being greener.

But something has genuinely happened. The modern motorist has become far angrier. And no, it's not that people have suddenly gone bad en masse, as the irate Moscow taxi driver from the film "Brother 2" claimed. It's simply that the private car has ceased to be a source of pleasure and is increasingly becoming a cause of constant stress. Once upon a time, the car was associated with freedom. Get behind the wheel – and off you go wherever you fancy. Bliss!

Today it feels like a computer game on maximum difficulty, where the developers release an update every week that makes the player's life even harder. In the morning, you have to choose a route that avoids traffic jams. Then find a parking spot, remember to pay for it through an app that constantly glitches, while the mobile signal keeps dropping out altogether. Then navigate around roadworks, dodge a new speed camera you didn't even know existed, and in the evening discover that the neighbour in the car park has opened their door straight into your wing – and, of course, driven off.

In short, just an ordinary day. The car has quietly morphed from a symbol of freedom into an endless list of minor irritations. It's like buying a yacht and then discovering that 99% of the time you're not sailing, but filling in paperwork and paying marina bills. Add prices into the mix. Every journey now comes with an internal accountant: "How much is petrol today?"; "How much will the insurance go up?"; "What if something breaks?"; "I wonder what the MOT costs now?" The car used to ask for attention; now it regularly asks for money.

It's no wonder that even a minor inconvenience starts to feel like a personal insult. Someone cuts you up? Irritation. Someone doesn't give way? Anger. A queue at the petrol station? Infuriating. Someone slow off the line at a green light? Rage. All of these are trifles in themselves. The problem is that the modern driver gets behind the wheel with an almost full patience meter. Any little thing becomes that final straw. But there's another reason that rarely gets mentioned.

The car no longer makes a person feel special. Twenty years ago, a new car was an event. Today, the car is increasingly seen as just another household appliance. Like a smartphone that hasn't yet become tiresome but has already stopped delighting. And when an object stops bringing joy, it starts to be judged purely by the number of problems it creates. And this applies not just to owners – look at how attitudes towards one another have changed.

Drivers used to see another driver ahead of them. Today they see an obstacle. The one who took the last parking space. The one driving 5 km/h slower. The one taking too long to turn. The one who pulled in right in front of you. We increasingly forget that behind the wheel sits a person just like us, who is also tired after work, rushing to pick up a child from nursery, or simply lost in thought.

No. What stands before us is not a person, but… an obstruction. But perhaps the most interesting cause of anger has nothing to do with cars at all. We have stopped being alone. The modern driver doesn't even rest behind the wheel. The satnav announces congestion. The phone buzzes. The infotainment system offers an update. Assistants beep. Cameras warn. The car talks to you more often than some relatives do! It's a strange paradox: we bought a car for freedom, and ended up with yet another gadget demanding our attention every few seconds.

And then there are social media. Any road altercation can now be online within five minutes. Any mistake you make can become a meme. Any clumsy lane change is grounds for hundreds of spiteful comments on news pages. We've started driving as though we're constantly being judged. And perhaps that, more than anything, has changed the atmosphere on the roads. But there's one detail that nags away. Despite all this, millions of people still love driving.

They deliberately head out early in the morning while the roads are empty. They take road trips even though flying would be quicker. They buy convertibles, sports cars, old Ladas, gas-guzzling SUVs, exotic coupés – cars whose purchase cannot be rationally justified. So perhaps it was never really about the cars. Maybe the problem is that modern life makes us more irritable, and the car just happens to be the place where that irritation finally gets to burst out?

Or is it all much simpler? Perhaps it's not that motorists have become angrier, but that people behind the wheel have simply stopped pretending?