The Prediction Machine Behind the Wheel

I want to share a story which many driving instructors may recognise. It comes from early in my career, during a lesson with a client, and it has stayed with me ever since.

We were driving down a very quiet road. There were only a couple of cars parked far ahead on our side. Nothing demanding or urgent.

At some point I said, “Have you noticed the red car?” What I was trying to do was encourage the client to look further down the road, not just at what was immediately in front of the car, but further ahead; attempting to introduce that new skill and begin forming a habit.

I noticed his body language straight away. He was moving his head, scanning, searching. But he didn’t answer.

As we got closer, I asked again: “Have you seen the red car?”

Again, he looked around, clearly trying to find something, but he didn’t respond.

As we approached the parked car, I had to intervene safely with the driving. Almost out loud, more as a moment of surprise than criticism, I wondered: “You really couldn’t see that red car.”

Very naturally, he replied: “But this is not red.”

That moment stayed with me.

What I was seeing was a very clear, very vivid image of a red car. What he was seeing was something else entirely. He wasn’t distracted or ignoring me. He was literally looking for something that, for him, didn’t exist.

Meaning Is Not Shared. It Is Personal.

That moment made something very clear to me: how easily miscommunication can happen, not because someone isn’t listening, but because we assume meaning is shared.

Each of us understands the world in a unique way. Meaning is shaped by experience, memory, learning, and expectation. No two people perceive the same situation in exactly the same way, even when they are looking at the same thing.

The Brain as a Prediction Machine

As humans, we are often described as prediction machines.

Neuroscientists like Andy Clark call this Predictive Processing. The idea is that our brains don't just passively record the world like a camera; they project a model onto it. We draw on past experience, form expectations about what is likely to happen next, and then act on those predictions.

If the "red car" isn't in my client's internal model, he literally cannot see it.

At a simple level, this process is a cycle of four parts:

1. Understanding: perceiving what is happening.
2. Drawing on Experience: retrieving previous meanings, skills, and memories.
3. Predicting: guessing what happens next based on steps 1 and 2.
4. Executing: taking an action based on that prediction.

There are many layers to this, such as biology, emotion, and reward systems, but this basic structure underpins much of our everyday functioning.

Watching the Process in Real Time

When I began combining my identity as a driving instructor with my identity as a counsellor, I started paying close attention to what people were doing in real time, not just how they later described it.

The car is a unique environment. There is no pause button. Feedback is immediate.

Clients are constantly trying to make sense of what they see, predicting what will happen next, and acting on that prediction.

What became especially interesting to me was the role of inner dialogue in this process. I noticed that clients almost always try to make sense of new situations using the vocabulary they already have. Their first instinct is rarely to find new words or new descriptions, but to reuse what already feels familiar.

That vocabulary then becomes the tool the brain uses to predict and act.

When Words Don’t Match the Task

A simple example that comes up often is when clients tell themselves “go straight.”

Sometimes, not always, not with everyone, this instruction is followed very literally. The road curves, lanes change, adjustments are needed, but the inner instruction remains rigid.

In psychology, we might call this Cognitive Fusion. The driver becomes inseparable from the thought. They aren't reacting to the winding road; they are driving the words "go straight." The map has replaced the territory.

The intention behind the words is usually reasonable: stay safe, stay steady, keep control. But the wording doesn’t match the task.

What I began to see was that inner dialogue offers a very open window into what is happening internally, often outside conscious awareness. It connects understanding, prediction, and execution in real time.

Saying One Thing, Meaning Another

As my work continued, another pattern became clear.

Some people mean one thing but describe it in a completely different way. And some people, not all, act on what they say, rather than what they mean.

This distinction matters.

The “go straight” example captures it well. The intention might be safety or continuity, but the instruction creates rigidity. Over time, this misalignment can form the foundation for stress, anxiety, and a sense of loss of control.

The issue is rarely the intention. It is often the wording.

A Question That Changed My Work

This led me to a different question.

If anxiety is sometimes created because someone is acting on their inner instructions rather than their intention, could it be possible to create new wording, a language that makes sense to the client, where meaning and instruction are aligned?

Not positive thinking. Not affirmations. Simply words or phrases that fit the task more accurately.

For some clients, the results were striking. Anxiety reduced. Coordination improved. A sense of control returned.

Not for everyone. Not in every situation. But where this pattern existed, the change was clear.

Why Talking Alone Is Not Enough

There was, however, a limitation. Understanding the idea once was not enough. Agreeing on new wording was not enough.

This is because driving happens in what Daniel Kahneman calls System 1 (the fast, automatic, intuitive part of the brain). However, our conversations happen in System 2 (the slow, logical, deliberate part).

You cannot rewrite a reflex simply by having a logical conversation about it. Change requires repetition.

By practising new inner language repeatedly, in real situations, the brain gradually began to respond differently. We have to move the new skill from the logical mind into the automatic body. Over time, these changes became observable, not only in driving behaviour, but in how clients related to stress and pressure more generally.

A Note on Therapy

In therapy, clients bring their experiences in a filtered form. They describe what happened using the vocabulary that already makes sense to them. That description is useful, but it is not the raw inner dialogue that occurred in the moment. It is shaped for communication.

Some therapeutic models address habits and reactions very effectively. Others work more reflectively. But there are individuals who struggle to benefit because the real-time mechanism is never accessed.

In my work, attending to the raw form of inner dialogue, always with the client’s permission and collaboration, has been central. Not correcting thoughts, not imposing meaning, but discovering how the system is actually operating.

Instinct, Safety, and Relearning

The brain often acts instinctively in ways it believes are protective.

A simple example: a client sees a large oncoming vehicle on a narrow road. Fear rises. The instinct is to steer away. What could be more logical? Even if that creates another risk. The brain acts on what it predicts will be the safest action in that moment (a response that is habitual, not logical).

With repetition, we can offer the brain new usable information: slow down, create space, improve prediction. Over time, even instinctive responses can change.

Can This Really Change?

Clients often ask whether these automatic reactions can truly change.

Based on my observations and the work I’m doing, the answer is yes. Not for everyone, not in every case, and not simply by talking about it once.

But with repetition, alignment, and meaningful language, change is possible. By passing new information to the brain repeatedly, new meaning forms, and the brain learns to react differently.

From the Road to Real Life: An Experiment

Driving is often a clear mirror for how we navigate other parts of our lives. If you are curious to see this connection for yourself, I invite you to try a simple experiment.

Think of an event in the near future that you are anxious about.

As the event approaches, grab your phone and record your inner dialogue exactly as it forms in your mind. Do not filter it. Do not shape it for an audience. These recordings should be short and raw, not descriptive.

Don't say: "I am feeling anxious because I think I might fail." Record what the voice actually says: "You're going to mess this up. You're not ready."

Make a few of these recordings as the pressure builds. Then, right before the event (or shortly after), listen to them.

But here is the key: Listen with the ear of a third person.

When you hear those words played back, separated from the heat of the moment, what do you hear? What instructions is your brain actually receiving?

Often, we find that the "driver" (you) is receiving instructions that make the journey significantly harder than the road itself.

Closing Reflection

Sometimes anxiety is not about fear itself. Sometimes it emerges in the gap between what we say and what we mean.

Noticing that gap can open a different way of understanding ourselves, and sometimes, a different way of responding.

References

Clark, A. A nice surprise? Predictive processing and the active pursuit of novelty. Phenom Cogn Sci 17, 521–534 (2018)

Gardner B, Lally P, Wardle J. Making health habitual: the psychology of 'habit-formation' and general practice. Br J Gen Pract. 2012 Dec;62(605):664-6.

Hayes SC, Levin ME, Plumb-Vilardaga J, Villatte JL, Pistorello J. Acceptance and commitment therapy and contextual behavioral science: examining the progress of a distinctive model of behavioral and cognitive therapy. Behav Ther. 2013 Jun;44(2):180-98

Kahneman, Daniel, 1934-2024, author. (2011). Thinking, fast and slow. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux

Mobbs D, Hagan CC, Dalgleish T, Silston B, Prévost C. The ecology of human fear: survival optimization and the nervous system. Front Neurosci. 2015 Mar 18;9:55.

Yao L, Kabir R. Person-Centered Therapy (Rogerian Therapy) [Updated 2023 Feb 9]. In: StatPearls