By Contributor Lisel B.
“It starts with a flick of the thumb. A buzz. A glance. A dopamine hit disguised as a notification. And then, a lie: I can handle it.“
That lie has become one of the most dangerous mantras on American roads. It’s whispered in silence behind the wheel, reinforced by years of habit, and often ends in tragedy. But sometimes, it ends in a viral video—a digital reckoning that forces us to confront the truth we’ve been dodging.
On August 25, 2025, a woman driving a rented Nissan Leaf in Arlington, Washington, became the face of that reckoning. She wasn’t just texting while driving—she was texting with both hands, eyes locked on her phone, barreling down a rural road at speed. The crash was inevitable. The lie was exposed. And the dashcam footage, distributed online by the car’s owner, became a public service announcement no one could ignore.
This editorial isn’t just about one woman’s mistake. It’s about the cultural myth that made it possible. The myth that we’re the exception. That we’re in control. That we can handle it.
Spoiler: we can’t.
The Anatomy of a Lie
Texting while driving is illegal in most states. It’s condemned by safety experts, insurance companies, and even the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA), which reports that texting is a factor in roughly 1 in 5 distracted driving deaths. Yet millions of drivers do it daily.
Why? Because the lie is seductive. It tells us we’re multitaskers. That we’re just checking a quick message. That we’re different from those drivers—the reckless ones.
But the dashcam doesn’t lie. In the Arlington crash, the footage shows the driver fully disengaged from the road. Both hands on her phone. Eyes glued to the screen. Twenty seconds of pure distraction. Then, impact.
She later claimed she’d been “run off the road.” The footage told a different story.
This isn’t just dishonesty—it’s delusion. And it’s killing people.
The Viral Reckoning
Jose Arevalo, the 18-year-old owner of the rental car, had installed a dashcam months earlier for safety. He’d informed renters about it. But when the crash happened, the driver didn’t mention the camera. She filed a police report. She opened a claim with Turo. She omitted the texting.
Jose reviewed the footage. Then he posted it.
The internet responded with outrage, disbelief, and a flood of comments
The Psychology of Distraction
Texting while driving isn’t just a bad habit—it’s a cognitive failure. Studies show that texting drivers are six times more likely to cause a crash than drunk drivers.
That’s not because they’re evil or reckless. It’s because they’re human.
Our brains aren’t wired for multitasking behind the wheel. The moment we look at a screen, our situational awareness plummets. Reaction times slow. Peripheral vision narrows. And yet, we convince ourselves we’re still in control.
This is the lie we tell ourselves. And it’s reinforced by every uneventful drive where nothing goes wrong. Until something does.
Accountability in the Age of Dashcams
The Arlington incident is part of a growing trend: technology exposing behavior we once thought was private. Dashcams, Ring doorbells, body cams—they’re turning everyday moments into public evidence.
In this case, the footage didn’t just reveal the crash—it revealed the cover-up. The false claim. The attempt to shift blame.
And it sparked a broader conversation: Should dashcam footage be used to shame drivers? To educate? To prosecute?
Jose’s decision to post the video wasn’t just cathartic—it was civic. He wanted people to see what texting while driving really looks like. And he wanted accountability.
He got both.
The Cost of a Lie
The crash totaled the car. Repair estimates topped $4,959—more than the vehicle’s value. Jose’s trust in renters was shattered. The driver’s reputation was scorched.
But the real cost could have been far worse.
She could have hit a pedestrian. A cyclist. A child.
She got lucky.
And that luck is part of the problem. Because every time someone texts and drives and doesn’t crash, the lie gets stronger.
Until it doesn’t.
The Cultural Shift We Need
We’ve done this before. Seatbelts. Drunk driving. Smoking in public. Cultural norms can change. But it takes more than laws—it takes shame, stories, and relentless messaging.
The Arlington crash is a story. A warning. A wake-up call.
It’s also a blueprint.
Imagine a campaign built around real dashcam footage. Not actors. Not simulations. Real people. Real consequences.
Imagine schools showing these clips. Insurance companies embedding them in quotes. Car rental apps requiring a “no texting” pledge.
We don’t need more statistics. We need more stories.
Because stories stick. Lies unravel. And culture shifts.
The Role of Misleading.com
At Misleading.com, we exist to expose the narratives that distort reality. The Arlington crash isn’t just a viral moment—it’s a case study in self-deception.
We believe editorial storytelling can change behavior. That satire, scrutiny, and transparency can save lives.
So we’re putting this story front and center.
Not to shame. But to shift.
Because the next time someone says I can handle it, we want them to remember this footage. This crash. This lie.
And choose differently.
Final Thought
Texting while driving isn’t a personal choice—it’s a public risk.
The woman in Arlington didn’t just crash a car. She crashed a myth.
And thanks to one dashcam, one renter, and one viral video, that myth is finally being dismantled.
Let’s finish the job!
Thank you for reading my editorial on this serious subject. We want to hear from you at Misleading.com
