SerpApi.Org
I spend my days dissecting consumer tech hardware, ripping apart gadgets, and analyzing software ecosystems for a living. By nature, I use this critical lens to view everything, including my 2022 car. It's not the rolling computer that the average Tesla or Rivian has become, but I realized I never gave its stock software a shot.
Unfortunately, automakers insist on reinventing the wheel with sluggish, proprietary software stacks that age terribly the moment the car rolls off the factory floor. I have always used Android Auto through a Google Pixel 7 as a substitute, bypassing the stock infotainment system for years. Recently, I decided to temporarily ditch the Google ecosystem and give the native software a fair, extended trial. I was worried I'd become an obstinate, Google-worshipping tech journalist, but Android Auto only proved I had the right reasons all along.
The clunky coordinate chaos of What3Words
Contextual routing always beats a rigid grid system
Navigating a sprawling, dynamic cityscape isn't easy, and the native system's What3Words integration harkens back to the early days of rigid coordinate mapping. On paper, the mathematical concept of assigning three arbitrary words to every three-meter square on the planet sounds like a brilliant, foolproof localization solution. In practice, remembering the three specific, randomized words that identify every place I visit frequently becomes an absolute chore. Imagine sitting at a busy intersection, frantically trying to recall if the parking entrance to your favorite cafe is called "apple.chair.toast" or "apples.chairs.toasts."
The entire premise lacks contextual awareness of human-centric driving and how I would typically interact with a map. Sure, the three words identifying a place don't change, but remembering them is an extra chore in the flow of using Maps to navigate there anyway.
On Android Auto, though, the Gemini-assisted Google Maps experience feels like a generational leap forward. When I am actively navigating tight lanes, Gemini deftly processes natural language requests to add stops along the way without taking my eyes off the road. I do not need to look up exact addresses or arbitrary word combinations. I can simply ask the assistant to route me to a highly rated coffee shop within a one-kilometer detour, and it dynamically adjusts the active navigation, with a recalculated ETA.
Even the UI is responsive, fluid, and mostly immediate since my Pixel phone's handling the processing, not the aging chipset powering the headunit.
Bypassing primitive equalizers for true acoustic control
A well-intentioned three-band slider cannot help you
From a purely acoustic standpoint, my car packs a capable Harman hardware array. With dedicated tweeters up front. Their placement, the speaker cones, and door panel insulation provide a fantastic canvas for customization. Unfortunately, the native software treats digital sound engineering like a complete afterthought. The built-in infotainment interface restricts you to a primitive three-band equalizer — crude sliders for bass, mids, and treble. The only saving grace is a basic spatial fader for front-to-back and left-to-right speaker bias.
The approach lacks granular control to fine-tune the audio output to match the vehicle's unique speaker drivers and dynamics. Pushing the bass slider up just a few notches immediately muddies the mids, ruining the playback quality, even if you're streaming Hi-Res Lossless from Apple Music. I prefer leaving these sliders at their default values and routing the audio stream through Poweramp Equalizer on my Pixel, which then feeds it to the car's amplifiers and speakers via Android Auto.
The difference is night and day. I am currently running a custom parametric EQ profile that I tuned for the best acoustics in this car. It uses band peaking, q-factors, a compressor, and low-pass filters to extend the dynamic range and preserve vocal clarity. OEM software simply lacks the tools to deliver such output.
There's no room for entertainment either
The final nail in the coffin
Setting audio aside, my car has zero entertainment apps. There's one frankly useless Doodle canvas that suffers from input lag, and even Microsoft Paint from 2005 can put it to shame. Worse still, due to a severe software architecture oversight, this sketchpad remains accessible when the car is in motion. In comparison, Android Auto offers a decent selection of enjoyable in-car games through Google's GameSnacks initiative.
All these shortcomings are dwarfed by the integrated voice assistant's utter incompetence. Like a distracted passenger, it takes forever to process and execute basic calling and messaging commands on my phone via Bluetooth, while Gemini does a significantly better job over the same connection with wireless Android Auto. Google's AI assistant is also better at accurately interpreting my accent. Crucially, it confirms the contact information aloud and waits for a verbal green light before placing calls. I can confidently dictate, review, and send WhatsApp messages fluently while navigating heavy traffic. The car's native operating system doesn't even comprehend that third-party messaging environments exist.
Onboard tech should be ahead, not built to current standards
We measure automotive life cycles in decades, while consumer technology evolves every month. I'm unsurprised that Android Auto pulls ahead of my car's infotainment and driver aids, but it proves how reliance on the latter is a losing battle. The silicon powering the dashboard is already a generation behind current smartphone standards. Within three years, the gap widens into a chasm.
However, newer phones running the current version of Google's tech offer a very solid foundation for ever-better in-car experiences. Perhaps this is why automakers should adopt Android Automotive, or turn the tables by building software more advanced than Google's.
