After struggling with my slow-to-respond, hard-to-update in-vehicle infotainment system for more than half a year, I finally gave up and reverted to assistance from my smartphone.

A handy “treasure box” that promises the most up-to-date services in this increasingly digitalized world, the smartphone now sits attached to my console, controlling navigation, entertainment and communications.

It replaces a 7-inch console iPad-like display, which I paid a little extra for when buying my Mazda Axela.

At that time, I was keen to see to what extent a carmaker could catch up with the IT industry that is setting the pace of this information age. The gap between the development cycle of consumer electronics, which is 12-18 months, and that of auto industry, which features a four-to-five year window, appears at present to be unbridgeable.

Also irreconcilable is my own experience. When smart car functions peddled to journalists like me become the mainstream talk of the industry, my own primitive way of life as a car owner seems oddly anachronistic.

I am really impressed by a fancy head-up display that can project a digital map in an overlaid fashion onto the road, creating an augmented virtual reality. And yet I am still forced to trust nothing but my own street-smartness after my embedded GPS proved misleading without timely updates.

And my first flat tire was discovered with my own two eyes and not by any on-board diagnostics system.

“Where is your tire pressure alarm?” my friend Alex asked.

“Have you forgotten that my car is too cheap to have anything like that on it?” I replied, noting that a BMW owner like him might be out of touch with the poor masses.

On second thought, I felt I was a little too harsh. Alex drives what the Chinese would like to call a “beggar’s edition”, a stripped down version with very few add-ons.

Despite talking about getting his car all “smartened up” on the aftermarket, Alex seems quite happy with the car’s original infotainment system, which he uses mostly as a basic music and radio player. His two smartphones juggle all other tasks in the car, searching for places of interest, navigating and keeping him informed about messages. They represent a gateway to in-vehicle data traffic that carmakers have been dreaming of building into their human-machine interface.

Their vision is a car that can self-diagnose a problem, automatically recommend a repair shop nearby or call road rescue, allow in-vehicle payment, and even monitor driving behavior as a reference for insurance premiums.

But so far, efforts to turn in-vehicle displays into the most important screen in people’s lives after the computer, mobile phone and tablet are yet to be appreciated by consumers.

According to the JD Power’s 2015 Driver Interactive Vehicle Experience, connectivity solutions like in-vehicle concierge services, head-up displays and built-in apps are among the top five functions that respondents report they never use in the first 90 days of car ownership ­­­— a timeframe described as a “make-it-or-break-it” stage.

Deal breakers like these, deemed “not useful” or simply “undesirable,” give budget-conscious carmakers pause for concern. Infotainment systems were never meant to be their top selling point, and they are usually available only as options.

“In many cases, owners simply prefer to use their smartphones or tablets because they meet their needs,” said Kristin Kolodge, executive director of driver interaction and human-machine interface research at JD Power. “They’re familiar with those devices and trust their accuracy. In-vehicle connectivity technology that’s not used results in millions of dollars of lost value for both consumers and the manufacturers.”

If the in-vehicle system is considered doomed, is it because what’s on offer currently has been disappointing and because most people are already addicted to their smartphones?

This question keeps puzzling me after I recently came across an in-vehicle infotainment system called I.P.D.A., made by the Chinese company Pateo. It operates as smoothly and intelligently as a smartphone.

After extracting content and services from third parties, the system integrates and streamlines the information with its own logic. It’s a farewell to all the complications of numerous apps and an embrace of flat design and centralized operation. It is activated by voice command, starting with “Hello, Qinggan,” the Chinese name of the system.

Designed for aftermarket installation, the Pateo system may be worth the price of 6,000 yuan (US$952). In its current trial stage, the system is compatible only with Volkswagen vehicles. I found it an interesting innovation, with a display screen featuring higher resolution ratio than that of Mercedes-Benz and BMW cars, and an embedded 4G module with 10G data plan to facilitate its cloud-based computing power.

“I am thinking about getting one when it is available for my car,” I told Alex. “What do you think?”

“What’s in it for me?” he replied. “Anything I can’t already do with my phone and my current system?”

“Nothing I would call breakthroughs,” I meekly responded. “Mostly just improvements.”

Generation Y — or those born between 1977 and 1994, as we two are — is the demographic group most dissatisfied with current in-vehicle entertainment and connectivity, according to the JD Power. We are the tech-savvy buying segment that is forcing carmakers to explore telematics, and then we end up disillusioning the makers with our lukewarm response. We are a generation shaped by individualism and spoiled by the decentralized nature of the digital age.

Living by phones, we are encouraged to deconstruct the world, and then re-construct it around ourselves by building our own eco-system of apps that have spread their tentacles into almost every aspect of our lives.

With a finger swipe, we upload and delete apps, seeking the latest innovations as an arbitrary king of our own land. We may be chained to our phones, and yet we enjoy a great amount of freedom from the bondage.

This freedom of choice is what we can never expect from car infotainment systems, as long as they hold authority over content and services.

Auto industry players tell us that in-vehicle connected services could be a Pandora’s box and should be left to specialists like themselves. This year BMW has made Great Wisdom, a financial market information portal, accessible to the Chinese users of its latest i-Drive system, It is mounted on the central console, a place it believes safer than a smartphone in terms of distracting the eyes from the road.

With anxious people desperately wanting to check out the recent stock market movements, specialists want to ensure that market obsession doesn’t compromise road safety. Or so they say.

While carmakers believe it is their duty to educate us about safety, we adult consumers don’t like to be lectured about being prisoners of our own devices. Does not my own life weigh as a heavy factor in my judgment when using a smartphone in the car? Of course it does. So does my strong-headed belief in self-discipline and good luck.

I don’t believe I would ever try to get a stock quote on my phone while driving, then get so shocked by what I see that I veer off the road. I don’t believe I will ever get into a road crash so serious that I couldn’t find my phone to call police and road rescue.

But I suppose if the latter did happen, I would really appreciate an advanced in-vehicle system to automatically fetch me some help.