Dwain Northey (Gen X)

I spend a fair amount of time driving. Occupational hazard, I suppose, when a good portion of your income depends on keeping four wheels pointed in the general direction of wherever you’re supposed to be going. And when you spend that much time on the road, you start noticing things. Traffic patterns, driving habits, people who apparently received their driver’s licenses in a Cracker Jack box, and lately, a whole lot of student drivers.

Which brings me to the subject of 10 and 2.

For those who may have forgotten their driver’s education classes, 10 and 2 refers to the recommended hand position on a steering wheel. Imagine the steering wheel as a clock. Your left hand goes where the ten would be, your right hand where the two would be. Both hands firmly planted, arms extended, eyes forward. Congratulations, you’re now driving like you’re preparing to land a commercial airliner.

I understand the theory. Control. Stability. Proper steering technique. All perfectly reasonable objectives. But have any of these driving instructors actually tried sitting in that position for more than fifteen minutes? Because I have a sneaking suspicion that whoever came up with this arrangement never had to drive for a living.

Seriously, 10 and 2 has to be one of the most uncomfortable ways to hold a steering wheel for any extended period. Your shoulders are elevated, your arms are extended, and your body is positioned somewhere between a nervous driving student and someone awaiting execution by firing squad.

Most experienced drivers I know have developed their own arrangements. One hand somewhere around the 12 o’clock position, perhaps one hand at 7, or the traditional casual left hand resting around 9 o’clock. Some of us alternate depending on which direction we’re going, how much traffic we’re dealing with, and whether our coffee is in danger of becoming a passenger-side floorboard casualty.

And then there’s my generation.

We grew up driving vehicles with manual transmissions. For anyone unfamiliar with this ancient technology, it required an actual mechanical connection between the driver and the transmission. You had three pedals, a gearshift, and a left leg that got considerably more exercise than it does in today’s automatic-transmission world.

You couldn’t keep both hands on the steering wheel all the time because one of them occasionally had to operate the gearshift. You know, that little stick thing in the middle of the car that actually required some coordination and participation from the driver.

We learned to steer, shift, accelerate, brake, check mirrors, and occasionally negotiate a passenger trying to give us directions without sounding like a hostage negotiator. We managed. Somehow, civilization survived.

Now, I’m not advocating that everyone drive with one hand hanging out the window while steering with their pinky finger. There is a difference between being comfortable and being careless. And certainly, modern steering-wheel positioning recommendations have changed over the years. The old 10 and 2 recommendation has largely given way to 9 and 3, partly because of airbags and improved steering control.

But here’s my question: Is there really an efficiency argument for insisting that a driver maintain a rigid hand position regardless of circumstances?

Driving isn’t a static activity. You’re constantly making small adjustments. You’re accelerating, slowing down, changing lanes, navigating curves, checking mirrors, and occasionally trying to figure out why the person in front of you has apparently mistaken the interstate for a scenic Sunday afternoon parade.

Your hands should be positioned in a way that gives you adequate control without creating unnecessary tension or fatigue. That’s the point, isn’t it?

And for those student drivers, I suspect there’s something to be said for teaching them how to actually operate a vehicle rather than simply teaching them how to pass a driving test. Understanding steering control, situational awareness, maintaining distance, anticipating traffic, and knowing when to make adjustments seems considerably more valuable than memorizing where your hands belong on an imaginary clock.

Of course, I realize I’m becoming that guy. The Gen X guy watching the next generation learn something and wondering whether we’ve somehow overcomplicated a perfectly ordinary activity.

We used to drive cars with manual transmissions, no backup cameras, no lane departure warnings, no blind-spot indicators, and certainly no computer screen telling us that we were getting too close to the white line. We had mirrors, a steering wheel, and a general understanding that if we hit something, it was probably our fault.

Maybe that’s nostalgia talking. Maybe modern driver education is better than what we had. I can certainly acknowledge that airbags, stability control, and improved safety practices have made driving safer.

But I still question the practicality of treating 10 and 2 like some sacred driving commandment.

I’m not flying an aircraft. I’m not performing surgery. I’m driving a car, and I’ve got another six hours of it ahead of me.

So, to the driving instructors out there, by all means, teach control, safety, and proper technique. Just remember that eventually these students are going to graduate, get a job, and spend eight hours a day behind the wheel.

And when they do, I suspect they’ll discover that driving comfortably and driving safely aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive.

Besides, if I spent all day holding my arms straight out at 10 and 2, I’d need a chiropractor before I made it to lunch.

End of transmission. Keep your eyes on the road, your hands somewhere sensible, and for the love of all things automotive, learn how to use your turn signal.