I never really believed that self-driving cars would make it to the UK, so you can imagine my surprise when I found myself driving around North London in one of Vive’s autonomous vehicles a few weeks ago.
In June, the company announced plans with Uber to begin trials of Level 4 fully autonomous robotaxis in the capital as soon as 2026, as part of a government plan to fast-track self-driving pilots ahead of a possible wider rollout in late 2027. Alphabet-owned Waymo now has its London, London, and Phoenix, a main fixture in US cities, and Phoenix, a main fixture in US cities, such as Robottaxi service in 2026, its first attempt to expand beyond the US.
My skepticism about self-driving cars working in London is not unfounded. On many levels, London is a robotaxi’s worst nightmare. At every possible turn, the city is at odds with sovereignty. Its road network is narrow, winding and rutted, a circle of concrete that has evolved over the centuries, designed for use by horses and carriages, not cars. Hard roads avoid obstacles. And the less said about cycles or seasons, the better.
Even if a robotaxy manages to successfully navigate London, it needs Londoners with the technology. This can be difficult. We’re a skeptical bunch when it comes to putting AI in cars. Surveys rank the British among the world’s worst. There’s been a lot of hype around this technology in the past – and failures, too, leaving a legacy of mistrust and disbelief among those who entered. And there are the famous black cabs to compete with, and they are known to drive hard bargains. When Uber first came on the scene, cabbies repeatedly brought London to a standstill, and the group is still at war with the ride-sharing company today. They don’t seem like much of a threat this time, he said, dismissing driverless cars as “a fairground ride” and “a tourist attraction in San Francisco.”
View’s headquarters didn’t feel like a San Francisco tourist attraction. A mix of unpolished brick and black metal fencing creates the vibe, which began life in a Cambridge garage in 2017 and is still led by cofounder Alex Kendall, with a random warehouse sound. Just 15 minutes away is King’s Cross, now a revamped industrial wasteland for companies like Google and Meta, which many would consider a more traditional setting for a company that has raised more than $1 billion from titans like NVIDIA, Microsoft, and SoftBank (and is reportedly in talks to raise another $2 billion).
His cars—a fleet of Ford Mustang Mach-ESs—didn’t seem to see that future either. The only real cheapness they intended to replace human drivers was a small box of sensors mounted on top of the windshield, away from the elusive whip on top of the Veymos.
Inside, it was perfectly normal. When we pulled out of the Vue’s compound, the only thing that really stood out was a big red emergency stop button in the center console, a reminder that, legally speaking, a human driver needs to be ready to take control at any moment. If it weren’t for the robotaxy’s voice to indicate its power, I don’t think I would have noticed that the driver had relinquished any control.
It handled the city well – much better than I expected. Within minutes, we exited the quiet side streets near the base of the View and joined a busy road. The car eased between parked cars and delivery vehicles, while food couriers cut in front of us on electric bikes, and mercifully, no pedestrians who treated London crossings as more tips than rules.
Although I took my first Vimo that summer in San Francisco when I realized I wasn’t smooth at all, and I hadn’t. The wave was more hesitant than I’m used to, a bit like when my sister took me out for the first time after earning her license a few years ago.
This reluctance is especially strange in London. The friends, cabbies, bus drivers, and Uber drivers I’ve ridden with all exude a kind of uneasy confidence, with an immediate sense of scarcity. I haven’t driven since I passed my test 15 years ago – the Tube makes it so easy to do without in London – but its intervals still manage to test my patience. Our route took us past the high walls of Pentonville Prison in Islington, and we snuck in behind a cyclist that I’m sure I could safely overtake and any Londoner would surely.
I later learned that this behavior is a feature, not a bug. Unlike Vimo—which uses a combination of detailed maps, rules, sensors, and AI to drive. In other words, the Wave operates less like a human and more like a machine. It certainly felt that way. I kept glancing at the safety driver’s hands, half expecting him to have already taken control. They never had. Other drivers were also convinced. A policeman even raised his hand in thanks as we left the petrol station turning point, although it was probably meant for the safety driver.
In theory, this embodied AI approach means you could drop off a one-way car anywhere and it would adapt easily, just like a human driver might after navigating an unfamiliar city. I’m not sure I’m ready to test it myself, but the team said they recently drove in the Scottish Highlands and came back unscathed.
I later learned the company, which is targeting markets in Japan, Europe and North America, is traveling the world this year on an AI “roadshow” to test its technology in 500 undisclosed cities. Knowing this, it seems Vio would need little knowledge-taking, a series of tests for London’s black cab drivers to show they’ve memorized thousands of streets and places, and letting them navigate without a GP (it also makes scientists love their brains).
The approach means the technology is also designed to respond more fluidly to the world and react more humanely to the unpredictable scenarios and edge cases that scare autonomous car makers. On my trip, it just happened. Roadworks, learner drivers, groups of cyclists, and London buses, even a man on crutches stuck in the road – he handled each one more carefully than a London driver. The most nerve-racking moment came when a blind man stood between two parked cars with his cane—a scene so on the nose I had to ask the company if it was staged (it wasn’t)—but before I could react, the car had already slowed down and moved.
As we pulled back into Viv’s compound, I realized I’d stopped wondering who was driving. It was only a repeat of the skill buzzer that indicated our safety drivers were back in control. It seems my brain has finally accepted independence, at least London’s version of it. It’s around the edges, less sci-fi, more human. And maybe that’s it.
