Have you ever caught yourself muttering under your breath at the car crawling in front of you, only to shake your fist at someone zooming past you five minutes later?

George Carlin nailed something profound about human nature with this observation. We’re all the hero of our own story, and everyone else is just a supporting character who’s either moving too slow or too fast for our liking.

But here’s what’s fascinating: this quote isn’t really about driving at all.

The center of our own universe

Think about it. When you’re cruising at 70 mph, that feels like the objectively correct speed. Not because of any logical reason, but because it’s what you chose. And our brains are wired to justify our choices as the right ones.

I noticed this pattern everywhere once I started looking for it. At the gym, I’m lifting the “right” amount of weight. The guy doing less? Not pushing himself hard enough. The guy doing more? Probably compensating for something or risking injury.

Same thing happens with work. If you leave the office at 5:30, your coworker who leaves at 5:00 is slacking off, while the one staying until 7:00 is a try-hard with no life.

We do this constantly without even realizing it. Our perspective becomes the measuring stick for everything and everyone around us.

Why we can’t help but judge

There’s actually some solid psychology behind this. It’s called the false consensus effect, where we assume our beliefs, values, and habits represent the norm. We genuinely think most reasonable people would make the same choices we do.

This cognitive bias served us well evolutionarily. Back when we lived in small tribes, assuming others thought like us helped with social cohesion and quick decision-making. But in today’s world, with its endless variety of lifestyles and choices, this same wiring makes us incredibly judgmental.

I’ve been reading about cognitive biases lately, and one thing that struck me is how automatic these judgments are. Your brain makes them before your conscious mind even gets involved. You see someone driving slowly and instantly think “idiot” before you can consider that maybe they’re lost, or new to the area, or dealing with car trouble.

The real kicker? Everyone else is doing the exact same thing to you. While you’re calling the slow driver an idiot, someone behind you is probably calling you one too.

The comparison trap

This extends way beyond driving. Social media has turned this tendency into an Olympic sport.

You post about your promotion, and suddenly everyone doing better career-wise is a workaholic with no balance, while everyone doing worse isn’t ambitious enough. You share your workout routine, and anyone doing less is lazy while anyone doing more is obsessed.

I fell into this trap hard in my late twenties. I’d left my corporate job to write, and suddenly everyone still in the corporate world seemed like a sell-out, while anyone who’d left earlier than me was reckless. My timing was perfect. Everyone else’s was off.

Looking back, I realize how much energy I wasted justifying my choices by diminishing others’. The truth was, I was insecure about my decision and needed to believe everyone else was wrong to feel like I was right.

When different just means different

Here’s what changed my perspective: realizing that people aren’t driving slower to personally inconvenience me. They’re not driving faster to show off. They’re just living their lives at their own pace, with their own priorities and circumstances.

That slow driver might be a new parent, exhausted from another sleepless night, just trying to get home safely. The speed demon might be rushing to the hospital or late for a crucial job interview.

Or maybe not. Maybe they’re just comfortable at different speeds than you are. And that’s okay too.

I started applying this thinking everywhere. My friend who spends every weekend partying isn’t irresponsible, and my friend who never goes out isn’t boring. They’re just wired differently. They find joy and fulfillment in different things.

Once you start seeing the world this way, it’s liberating. You stop wasting mental energy judging everyone else’s choices and can focus on your own path.

The ego protection game

But let’s be honest. Letting go of these judgments is harder than it sounds because they serve a purpose: protecting our ego.

When we label others as idiots or maniacs, we’re really saying, “I’m doing it right.” It’s a constant, subtle reassurance that our choices are valid.

I still catch myself doing this. Despite knowing better, I’ll still get annoyed at someone going “too slow” in the left lane. The difference now is that I recognize what’s happening. I can laugh at myself and remember that to someone else, I’m probably the problem.

There’s something oddly comforting about accepting that you’re someone else’s idiot driver. It takes the pressure off trying to be perfect or right all the time.

Finding your own speed

The real wisdom in Carlin’s quote isn’t just about recognizing our tendency to judge. It’s about understanding that there’s no objectively “correct” speed through life.

Some people sprint through their twenties, building careers and families fast. Others take the scenic route, exploring and experimenting. Neither is wrong. They’re just different approaches to the same journey.

I’ve noticed that the happiest people I know have figured this out. They’ve found their comfortable speed and stopped worrying about whether others think they’re going too fast or too slow.

They’re not constantly looking in the rearview mirror or straining to see who’s ahead. They’re just driving their own drive, at their own pace.

Rounding things off

Carlin’s observation is funny because it’s true, but it’s also profound because it reveals something fundamental about human nature. We’re all convinced we’re the reasonable ones, doing things at exactly the right pace.

The next time you’re on the highway and someone passes you like you’re standing still, or when you’re stuck behind someone doing 10 under the limit, remember: you’re all correct from where you’re sitting. You’re all idiots and maniacs to someone else.

And maybe that’s the point. If we’re all wrong to somebody, then maybe we’re all right too. Maybe the goal isn’t to find the objectively correct speed but to find the one that works for you and let others find theirs.

Because at the end of the day, we’re all just trying to get where we’re going, at whatever speed feels right to us. And there’s something beautifully human about that.