Shanghai didn’t just impress me with its innovations. It invited me to think differently.
I recently returned from a compelling trip to Shanghai, where I immersed myself in the future — not a distant vision, but a tangible reality already unfolding on the streets and in the showrooms of China. From testing autonomous vehicles to exploring the vibrant Shanghai Motor Show, I witnessed a remarkable reinvention of what mobility means — and what it’s becoming.
What stood out wasn’t just China’s technological prowess, but a profound cultural shift: mobility is no longer about vehicles. It’s about experience, integration, and digital life. In China, the car is being reimagined not just as a product, but as part of an evolving ecosystem — dynamic, connected, and shared.
A New Ecosystem on Display
At the Shanghai Motor Show, the energy was electric in more ways than one. Press day felt more like a cultural festival than a trade fair, filled with young attendees — many women — and hundreds of influencers livestreaming to audiences via platforms like Xiaohongshu. Mobility wasn’t just being presented — it was being experienced, shared, and socialized.
On the road, I tested fully autonomous robotaxis. These weren’t concept vehicles but working models from Pony.ai, operating at Level 4 autonomy in urban areas. Meanwhile, companies like Huawei are betting big on Level 3 autonomy for private vehicles, with their new Qiankun ADS 4.0 system already being scaled through partnerships with 11 OEMs. Both approaches are technologically impressive — but what’s more striking is what they reveal about a mindset shift.
Across the street from Apple’s flagship store in Shanghai, Huawei’s own flagship isn’t just selling smartphones and smartwatches. It’s selling cars — under new brand names like Aito, Stelanto, and Luxeed or Maextro — integrating mobility directly into the digital lifestyle. The car, in this new world, is no longer an isolated machine; it’s another node in a hyper-connected life.
The Logic of a New Paradigm
As an engineer, I was trained to solve problems by stating assumptions and applying logical rigor. So let’s apply that approach to what I saw.
Assumption 1: Young customers are the future.
In China, the average age of a new car buyer is in their early 30s — more than two decades younger than in Europe or Japan. These younger consumers have fundamentally different expectations. They don’t want to “drive” — they want to stay connected. They see the car not as a means of driving pleasure but as a space for gaming, streaming, and interacting.
Assumption 2: Connectedness is a baseline, not a feature.
Look around on any subway in Shanghai, and 90% of people are glued to their smartphones. This is not an occasional behavior — it is a lifestyle. For a generation raised in this always-on world, the idea of taking control of a vehicle, even temporarily, feels archaic.
Assumption 3: Autonomy unlocks experience.
Full autonomy — Level 4 and beyond — isn’t just about safety or convenience. It’s about enabling users to do what they value most: interact, watch, play, create. The moment the car drives itself, time in transit becomes time online. This is what makes screens, interfaces, and connectivity the true centerpieces of the vehicle’s interior.
Assumption 4: Digital spaces require adaptability.
When mobility becomes an extension of the digital lifestyle, the interior must adapt in real time. One moment it’s a gaming pod, the next a mini-office or a private cinema. This degree of adaptability means the vehicle is no longer “mine” in a personal, static sense. Instead, it adapts to whoever uses it — and how they use it.
Assumption 5: Ownership no longer makes economic sense.
A smartphone might cost $1000 and be used several hours daily. A car costs $30,000, but if it’s privately owned, it sits idle 96% of the time — a staggering mismatch in value per hour. Moreover, connected cars become obsolete not through mileage, but through technological relevance. If your 5-year-old vehicle no longer receives software updates, it’s functionally outdated — like an old phone without app support.
Put these assumptions together, and a conclusion naturally emerges:
CQFD — as we say in French, “Ce Qu’il Fallait Démontrer”:
The future vehicle is connected, autonomous, shared, and not owned. This is not just a trend — it’s a paradigm shift driven by logic, economics, behavior, and culture.
From Evolution to Reinvention
What I saw in Shanghai wasn’t merely a preview — it was a prototype in motion. It’s tempting to frame this as a competition of East versus West, but it’s not. It’s about who is willing to reimagine. While the West debates the incremental merits of driver assistance systems or debates the ethics of AI in vehicles, China is building, testing, deploying, and iterating at speed.
Crucially, this is not about copying. It’s about observing with an open mind. As professionals in the mobility industry, we need to strip away our cultural bias and legacy thinking. The assumptions that guided us in the past — ownership, driving pleasure, hardware superiority — may no longer apply.
Instead, we must ask: what does the user — especially the next generation user — truly want?
They want connection. They want freedom from driving. They want spaces that flex, adapt, and evolve. They want mobility that matches the rhythm of their lives, not the other way around.
The Shanghai Prototype
This is the world being built in Shanghai — and likely soon in other cities worldwide. In this model, car ownership fades, replaced by a fleet of ever-fresh, always-connected vehicles used when needed and shared among users. Autonomy is the enabler, connectivity the foundation, and digital lifestyle the driver.
Is the West ready? That depends not on technology, but on mindset.
We are witnessing a reinvention, not an evolution. It requires courage — to let go of familiar paradigms and embrace new logics.
Shanghai didn’t just impress me with its innovations. It invited me to think differently.
And perhaps that is the most important innovation of all.