Jason Slaughter exposes a fundamental flaw in how we navigate our cities: the assumption that a route optimal for a car is also optimal for a bicycle. In a piece that reads less like a tech review and more like a manifesto on urban design, Slaughter argues that Google Maps fails in Amsterdam not because of a software bug, but because its very architecture is built on American assumptions that cars belong everywhere. For anyone who has ever been routed onto a noisy arterial road when a quiet, scenic path lay just blocks away, this is a revelation that demands attention.
The Driver-Centric Algorithm
The core of Slaughter's argument is that navigation software is not neutral; it is a reflection of the city it was designed for. He writes, "Fundamentally, Google Maps is an application for drivers. That's not to say that there are no bicycle specific features, but it's pretty clear that the people who design and develop the Google Maps navigation system are based in the US and they're primarily designing for drivers." This observation is striking because it shifts the blame from the user's lack of local knowledge to the tool's inherent bias. In the United States, the street grid is designed for car fluidity, where any blocked street can be bypassed by another. Slaughter notes that American traffic engineers often celebrate this grid, "making several core assumptions that all streets are for cars, that moving cars is extremely important, and that if you want an efficient transportation system, drivers should be able to go wherever they want."
This logic breaks down instantly when applied to the Netherlands. While American cities prioritize moving the maximum number of cars, Dutch cities prioritize moving the maximum number of people. Slaughter explains that in Amsterdam, car traffic is viewed as a necessary evil that must be carefully managed to keep neighborhoods safe and livable. The city utilizes a "plusnet" for cars, routing through-traffic onto specific arteries, while separating cyclists onto their own optimized networks. This separation is so complete that Slaughter describes it as "infleton," or unbundling, where the routes for cars and bikes are fundamentally disentangled. The result is that a cyclist in Amsterdam is likely to encounter very little car traffic, whereas a cyclist in Toronto is forced to share the road with vehicles moving at highway speeds.
The routes that are taken by people driving have been designed to be separated or disentangled from the routes that are taken by people cycling.
Critics might argue that Google Maps simply lacks the granular data to map these nuanced Dutch networks, but Slaughter suggests the problem is deeper than data entry; it is a failure of worldview. The algorithm assumes that the safest route for a bike is one with a protected lane, a heuristic that works in dangerous American cities but fails in Amsterdam where the absence of cars makes protected lanes unnecessary and sometimes even less efficient due to crowding.
The Fallacy of Safety and Speed
Slaughter challenges the very definition of what makes a route "good." In North America, the priority is often avoiding traffic lights and stop signs, which are ubiquitous on residential streets. Slaughter points out the absurdity of this: "It's ridiculous that there are so many stop signs in North America and yet the majority of cities don't allow cyclists to treat stop signs like a yield sign." In contrast, Dutch residential streets often use raised intersections that act as speed bumps, allowing cyclists to flow through without stopping. Yet, Google Maps, trained on American data, still prefers to route cyclists onto major roads with traffic lights because it assumes those are the only safe options.
This leads to a paradoxical situation where the app sends cyclists down "ugly, loud, and has lots of car traffic" roads simply because they have protected bike lanes, ignoring the quiet, scenic alternatives just a block away. Slaughter writes, "Protected bicycle lanes are great, but they're not always the best place to cycle because if they're too narrow, they can quickly get crowded and then there's not enough room to pass people who are cycling slower." He goes further to argue that in cities like Amsterdam, "you don't need bike lanes" because the street design itself removes the danger by removing the cars.
The author highlights the use of "modal filters"—physical barriers that allow bikes and pedestrians through but block cars—as a key tool in this strategy. Unlike American suburban cul-de-sacs, which make driving inefficient but also make cycling inefficient, Dutch modal filters create a network that is fast and pleasant for bikes while remaining a dead-end for cars. Slaughter notes that while Google Maps optimizes for the fastest car route, "navigating by bicycle is very different" because cyclists do not get stuck in traffic and often prioritize comfort and scenery over raw speed.
The Alternative: Designing for People
The piece concludes by pointing to the Dutch "Fietsersbond route planner" as the gold standard for cycling navigation. Unlike Google Maps, this tool offers specific algorithms for different types of cycling, including routes that avoid cars entirely. Slaughter describes the "auto lure route" (car-restricted route) which "will avoid cars and busy roads as much as possible." This tool succeeds where Google fails because it understands that in a city designed for people, the best route is rarely the one that mimics the car's path.
Slaughter's analysis reveals that the failure of Google Maps in Amsterdam is a symptom of a larger issue: the export of American urban planning logic to the rest of the world. He writes, "In the US or Canada, one-way streets for cars will almost always apply to people cycling as well... But in the Netherlands, the vast majority of streets that are one way for car traffic allow people to cycle in either direction." Until navigation algorithms recognize that safety and efficiency look different in different cities, cyclists will continue to be routed onto roads that are safe for cars but miserable for humans.
In the Netherlands, the vast majority of streets that are one way for car traffic allow people to cycle in either direction.
Bottom Line
Jason Slaughter's argument is a powerful critique of the one-size-fits-all approach to urban navigation, exposing how software designed for car-centric cities actively degrades the cycling experience in places like Amsterdam. The piece's greatest strength is its ability to reframe a navigation error as a clash of urban philosophies, proving that you cannot simply digitize a Dutch city using American logic. However, the argument leaves open the question of whether global tech giants will ever prioritize the complex, localized data required to fix this, or if cyclists will remain stuck following directions that lead them away from the very cities they are trying to enjoy.