Having been involved in a serious auto crash as a child — I was lucky enough to escape unharmed, but others dear to me were not — I’ve always had something of a phobia about traveling in cars. I love flying and taking train journeys, but I’ve always felt vulnerable on the road, and nothing gives me the jitters more than being a passenger alongside a particularly unskilled or inattentive driver. This sense of vulnerability is borne out by the statistics: In the United States alone, around 44,000 people die in auto collisions each year, a death toll equivalent to having a September 11th terrorist attack once every three weeks. Needless to say, the vast majority of these road deaths are caused by distracted, overhasty, reckless, or impaired driving.
When it became time for me to get behind the wheel myself, I — unlike many young males! — was determined to become the safest driver I possibly could. I became obsessive about this: I read numerous books on safe and defensive driving, continued to take courses long after I’d earned my driving license, and eventually passed the advanced driving test to become a member of the Institute of Advanced Motorists, an organization founded to promote road safety and higher driving standards throughout the United Kingdom and Ireland.
Based on the “Roadcraft” system developed to train British police drivers, IAM’s advanced driving course teaches correct use of car controls — but more importantly it teaches vital skills in observation and anticipation, reasoning that the best way to avoid a collision is to be aware in advance of all potential hazards and to approach them with appropriate caution. During my advanced driver training, I learned that many drivers (especially, I would guess, myopic drivers!) tend to drive with “tunnel vision,” meaning that they stare at something in the near distance, such as the car immediately in front, and don’t observe much else. I used to do this myself, and it was a habit I had to work hard to break. Scrupulous attentiveness and constant scanning are key to the advanced driving philosophy, so I had to train myself constantly to check the near distance, far distance, rear mirror, and side mirrors, to keep vigilant watch for potential hazards, and to formulate plans for navigating them.
To help drivers maintain their concentration, advanced instructors have developed a technique called “commentary driving,” which requires the student to keep up a running verbal commentary on everything that could possibly relate to his or her driving — signs, other vehicles, pedestrians, cyclists, road conditions, road surfaces, and so on. I found this incredibly helpful: It keeps the mind alert, keeps the head and eyes constantly moving, and prevents the kind of “zoning out” that often leads to collisions. (You can see an example of commentary driving in this YouTube video.)
Recently, I’ve been noticing similarities between advanced driving and the Bates method. Bates also cautioned against zoning out and staring at fixed points; he wanted us always to keep our heads and eyes in constant motion, to practice continual awareness of what we see, and never to become rigid and robotic. So now, even when I’m just walking around, I pretend that I’m driving. I let my eyes scan everything, while remaining aware of central fixation and imagination. I even practice “commentary walking” to keep myself focused! It might be as simple as “I see a woman in a red top up ahead walking a golden lab; I see a man in blue riding a bike off to my left; I notice a white cottage in the distance off to my right….” but it keeps me attentive and wakeful.
In general I’m doing my best to go without glasses whenever possible, generally wearing my full-strength pair only for driving and a reduced pair only for computer work. I’m also palming and swinging regularly, and am noticing more and more the sense of “oppositional movement” that Bates felt was essential to correct vision. So I feel as if I’m making progress!
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