Infiniti design director Alfonso Albaiso makes a key additional point. “I drove our next-generation autonomous test car on a freeway in Yokohama,” he recalled in a recent interview. “There was a truck in front of me in the left lane and the autonomous car decided to pass it. It pulled into the right lane just as another slower car pulled into the same lane from the right. My car decided it was better to be where it was, so it tucked back in behind the truck. Even though it was simply recalculating and looking for the best path, I was surprised by how human the reaction felt. It acted just as I would, and it felt more organic than synthetic. It was a warm feeling, not a cold one.”

In short, it felt to him as though the car was a sentient being, and that sensation instantly rendered it more ally than adversary. All by virtue of the fact that the car seemed to be behaving in a way that was beyond the sum of its programming. Clarke would be impressed.

Looking forward in a more practical vein, the trust and faith such feelings will instill in "drivers" and occupants will be essential when it comes time for us to put our faith in the most advanced systems that will inevitably arrive. Build things smart enough, say, and when the vehicles expertly avoid a falling boulder or flying chunk of construction debris, it won’t just feel like a robot swerving to avoid something; it’ll be our wingman having our back on the freeway. Furthermore, if the car says “Whoah, close one,” after just such an encounter, it’ll be a friend for life. Pretty magical stuff, I’d say.