Jay Leno once spoke of flipping through the owner’s manual of a vintage luxury car he owns, and coming upon a somewhat dated reference. It said to have “your man” perform regular maintenance. The man was the chauffeur, and it was assumed this uniformed functionary was on hand both to drive the car and keep it in top condition.
These duties make sense, given the history. The word “chauffeur” is of French origins, dating to 1896 or so, and is derived from the term for the “stoker,” who shovelled the fuel and took the helm of early steamships and trains. The best cars early on came from France, and hence the word was imported along with the cars.
Obviously, cars in the early part of the 20th century required considerable maintenance, and it was the chauffeur who hopped out to fix the frequent punctures or crank the engine. This fellow worked for a single boss and was an essential part of the domestic staff. The drivers even had their own magazine in Britain, The Chauffeur, which was published from 1907 to 1914.
In the hit BBC series Downton Abbey , the fiery Socialist chauffeur, Tom Branson (played by Allen Leach) marries Lady Sybil Crawley, joins the family circle, and becomes the esteemed estate manager. This would have shattered social conventions at the time, and is somewhat unlikely. The best that most chauffeurs could expect was to be gifted the car at retirement.
Classic chauffeur-driven limousines of the 1920s and 1930s, sometimes called “sedanca de ville” (town car), had enclosed compartments with cloth seats for the passengers and an open leather-clad driver’s area, possibly a vestige of the carriage trade, when the driver sat up top to control the horses.
The chauffeur had a renaissance during the go-go greed-is-good 1980s, when Wall Street’s instant millionaires were making deals in the back of limousines. But since that time, the limos from companies like Cadillac and Lincoln have gone out of production. According to Gregg Merksamer, editor of website Professional Car Society, “The recent action has moved to upfitting minibuses like the Mercedes-Benz Sprinter and the Ford Transit with more luxurious interiors. One reason is that bus-based limos come with more headroom and ‘walk-around space’ than an SUV-based stretch.”

Gregg D. Merksamer, Professional Car Society

Gregg D. Merksamer, Professional Car Society
Hiring a Driver
Many executives are now driving themselves, but hiring a driver is still an attractive option. The role of chauffeur is evolving. The basic categories for hired drivers are:
Personal drivers, who typically drive regular cars and help out as needed. Indeed.com says a common salary for a personal driver is $15.44 per hour, though this ranges up to $31.70. The jobs are competitive, the site says—with 25 applicants for every job.
Executive drivers, whose passengers are business executives and CEOs, are often authorised to bring their vehicles into restricted areas. This is a higher-paid category, with salaries up to $93,000 a year, or $45 an hour.
Chauffeurs (with female professionals known formally as a “chauffeuse”). For VIP clients these full-time drivers pilot long-wheelbase luxury vehicles, sometimes with divider windows and communications systems. Chauffeurs might make $50,000 a year in relatively affluent areas.
The U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics combines salaries for shuttle drivers and chauffeurs, giving a median annual salary in 2023 of $35,240. In the larger category that includes taxi drivers, there are 55,400 job openings annually in the U.S. The average chauffeur is male (84%) and white (52%), though 23.8% are Hispanic and 8.7% African-American. Female chauffeurs make approximately $5,000 less annually, according to Zippia.com.
So, does hiring a full-time chauffeur make sense? It does if you lead a busy work life, stress over getting the kids to school on time, worry about possible accidents, or want to make more productive use of your travel time.
To make such a hire, start by deciding whether you want to use an agency or recruit someone yourself from online sites. Then list all the tasks you will want the chauffeur to undertake. That will help determine your driver’s hours, leading possibly to the conclusion that part-time help will be sufficient. Even if you’re using an agency, you’ll want to check the potential hire’s references—remember, they’re likely to be driving children.
Assuming the references check out, the next step is an interview to get to know the candidate. The basics are a full resume, a valid driver’s license, appropriate insurance coverage, and sometimes mechanical skills and a knowledge of defensive-driving tactics.
Personality and temperament are important factors, not just paper credentials. And a probationary period to evaluate the chauffeur where the rubber meets the road is an excellent idea. Salary should be determined based on years of experience.
Which Car?
Excellent candidates for chauffeured cars, ensuring the most passenger comfort, include:
2024 Mercedes-Maybach GLS 600 SUV ($174,350). The chauffeur of 40 years ago would have been amazed at the choice of an SUV for chauffeur duty, but these cars maximise passenger access and space.
2024 Audi A8L (starting at $90,900). Check the boxes on this roomy company flagship for Comfort Plus (dual-pane acoustic glass, heated rear seats) and Black Optic Plus (for incognito travel). For a European customer circa 2016, Audi created the 20.9-foot-long Audi A8L Extended, with a 166-inch wheelbase and six doors. All six passengers got seating equivalent to first-class airplane travel.
2024 Rolls-Royce Phantom Extended ($573,000). This car’s interior, the company says, is “a sumptuous sanctuary, where escapism is the main objective.” A high degree of customisation is possible. Gerry Spahn, who heads Rolls-Royce communications in the U.S., said that the Phantom is “the ultimate palette for Rolls-Royce Bespoke, allowing clients to incorporate their personal lifestyle into the interior design through materials, finishes, and new technology.”
2024 Cadillac Celestiq ($340,000). Cadillac was once the standard for the chauffeured limousine. This one is a luxurious way of going green, and an out-of-the-box choice for a chauffeured vehicle. It doesn’t look like any other vehicle on the road; AutoExtremist dubbed the Celestiq “a singular design triumph.” These hand-built electric sedans are being produced in very small numbers. All four passengers sit on 20-way adjustable heated, vented, and cooled seats with massage, and enjoy personal screens.

Gregg D. Merksamer, Professional Car Society

Cabot Coach
And you can go custom. Companies such as Cabot Coach in Haverhill, Massachusetts, and Executive Coach Builders in Springfield, Missouri, will craft a bespoke limousine to your specifications. Steve Edelmann, director of sales at Cabot Coach, said that for $200,000 to $300,000 his company will outfit an SUV or Sprinter van as a fully equipped mobile office for executive customers, sometimes—shades of the 1930s—with a partition for privacy from the driver.
This story originally appeared in the Fall 2024 Issue of Mansion Global Experience Luxury.
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AI doesn’t rebel—people design, deploy and profit from it. The real danger lies in allowing tech companies to escape accountability while shaping regulations that protect their dominance.
A wave of corporate warnings and technical disclosures has flooded the media, with headlines worrying over “swarms” of rogue artificial-intelligence agents launching “unprecedented” cyberattacks, outsmarting their makers, and inching toward a terrifying autonomy. The most revealing part of this narrative isn’t what the software did. It’s who is telling the story—and why. When corporate leaders publicly insist that the systems they financed, engineered and deployed are suddenly beyond their power to contain, skepticism isn’t only healthy; it is essential.
For years, Silicon Valley has drawn scrutiny from civil society and global regulators over tangible harms such as youth mental health deterioration and systematic privacy violations. Today, industry figures seem to be trying to change that public image. Loudly blowing the whistle on their own systems—just as two of the leading companies were preparing for massive initial public offerings—lets AI executives position themselves as a new generation of leaders who have come to terms with their societal responsibilities. They seem to want us to believe that they no longer want to “move fast and break things” but will instead stand as vigilant guardians between humanity and a technological apocalypse.
There is one glaring problem: Software doesn’t rebel. A mathematical model possesses neither intent, malice nor the will to defy its creators, let alone extinguish our species. AI is a human artifact, engineered for profit.
When an agentic model in an evaluation sandbox connects to an unauthorized server or executes an exploit, it hasn’t staged a coup. It has tried to meet the human-defined objectives set out before it through a path its designers failed to constrain. It’s the digital equivalent of the King Midas myth, in which the king’s ill-defined wish turns even his food and drink into gold.
That powerful experimental models were able to discover novel vulnerabilities and breach external systems isn’t a sign of a dangerous superintelligence but of human error or negligence. There is no sentient actor lurking in the weights to be reasoned with, feared or pacified. There are only human software engineers, product managers and corporate boards deciding which guardrails are worth the latency cost and which permissions can be skipped in the race to market.
Policymakers and voters need to resist AI exceptionalism. In any other discipline—from civil engineering to pharmaceuticals—courts and regulators treat a system failure as evidence of bad product design and inadequate safety testing. If an aircraft crashes, we focus on finding the engineering defect, correcting it, and enforcing established liability standards for the damage created.
By leaning on an anthropomorphic narrative, Silicon Valley attempts to repackage its specific human choices that led to experimental, powerful models behaving unexpectedly during tests as an existential peril. Elevating the issue to a cosmic scale leaves the public paralyzed and takes ordinary product accountability off the table.
In the cutthroat race for venture capital and market dominance, building guardrails slows down deployment. Grandstanding about uncontrollable power costs nothing and generates billions of dollars in free publicity, justifying stock prices, all while cultivating an aura of technological capability not only to build the frontier but also ultimately to rein it in.
Governments need to recognize regulatory capture when it stares them in the face. Tech leaders’ strategy looks transparent: Alarm Washington and Brussels into creating a regime in which only trillion-dollar incumbents with fully staffed compliance and safety departments can legally operate. By sitting at the policymakers’ tables before anyone else, these companies can help draft rules digging an impassable moat protecting them from open-source developers and upstart competitors, domestic or international. The real danger is in further concentrating the tech industry into the hands of only a few companies with deep pockets.
Beijing and Washington have brushed off those tech leaders’ calls, albeit for very different reasons. Chinese state media dismissed them as part of the “Cold War playbook” and intended to preserve U.S. dominance. Xi Jinping argued for exactly the opposite at the Brics Summit on Sept. 12, calling on Brics countries to “strengthen cooperation in the field of AI, encourage open source, openness, collaboration and sharing, and break new grounds and scale new heights.” President Trump, steeped in a doctrine of unfettered capitalism and technological supremacy, called fears that AI could destroy humanity a “hoax.” Vice President JD Vance warned that AI companies “begging the government to regulate them” looked like a “Trojan Horse.”
Striving to pursue its “European way” on AI and assert regulatory leadership, Europe, by contrast, welcomed the call. European Union President Ursula von der Leyen made this clear at the State of the EU speech last Wednesday and announced that the EU will invite “the main frontier labs for a discussion on how we can support ongoing industry efforts to pace the frontier.”
Europe has been here before. In an effort to lead global regulation and react to fears borne from ChatGPT, Europe rushed its landmark AI Act into law in 2024. Already the world’s most restrictive rulebook, the framework quickly proved too broad and complex to enforce. Stalled by implementation delays and concerns about European competitiveness, the EU postponed the law’s full rollout, leaving regulations uncertain.
AI should be regulated—risks exist and should be taken seriously. But governments need to act based on available evidence and verified facts, not corporate PR panic, the views of industry insiders, or the desire for quick political wins. The greatest danger facing society isn’t that software will awaken and overthrow its human masters. It is that we will allow the creators of the software to abdicate human responsibility for the systems they choose to build and help them pull up the ladder to market access behind them.

