He climbed into his Peterbilt, put on his headset, joined the conversation, and settled in for what would become hours of talk with friends scattered across the globe.

Singh, an Indian American trucker who has built something of a social media following, spends at least eight hours a day on the phone while hauling freight, six days a week. He calls it his “empathy call” — a ritual that keeps his spirits up and, just as importantly, keeps him alert behind the wheel.

It’s a habit shared by countless drivers across California and beyond, who dial into conversations that stretch across continents and time zones, forming a kind of rolling community that travels with them down the highway.

Drivers say the calls are a lifeline for their mental health in a profession defined by long stretches alone, sitting for hours with little chance to move or socialize.

“Truckers in the U.S. deal with a lot of stress,” Singh said. “I think long calls are an effective way to reduce that stress, that isolation, that loneliness in the cab — by letting people share what they’re feeling.”

Of course, using a handheld phone while driving is illegal in California, and drivers say they make sure to keep one ear free in their headsets to stay within the law. They also know the dangers of distracted driving all too well, and several told CalMatters they end their calls the moment traffic gets heavy.

The stakes are high every time a driver takes the wheel of a 36-ton rig — for road safety and for a commercial driver’s license that isn’t easy to win back if something goes wrong. The California Department of Motor Vehicles screens drivers’ physical and mental health during license renewals, and licenses can be suspended over health concerns.

Yet the state has never conducted a comprehensive study on truckers’ mental health, nor does it offer a rehabilitation program for drivers struggling with it. If a mental health issue comes to the state’s attention, drivers are largely left to fight for their license renewal on their own, often needing to hire an attorney.

Lindsey Bryan, health and wellness manager for Project 61, a nonprofit focused on trucker health, said isolation is a daily reality for drivers. “We see drivers dealing with social isolation every day,” Bryan said. “They’re away from their loved ones, and on top of that, they don’t have access to a lot of the things you and I use to manage stress.”

Academic researchers have found that the loneliness truckers experience sets them apart from other workers when it comes to how they use social media and digital communication. A 2016 study, “Work Strain, Social Isolation and Mental Health of Long-Haul Truckers,” noted that social media use has generally been linked to feelings of isolation among internet users.

For truckers, though, the opposite tends to be true. Platforms like WhatsApp and FaceTime give them a sense of community rather than isolation while they’re on the road.

“These opportunities would provide truck drivers the social connections they need during layovers, while waiting to load or unload their trucks, during any other non-driving period, or during emergencies,” the study’s authors wrote.

Until She Starts Snoring

The calls might look like a distraction from the outside, but many drivers insist they actually help keep them focused.

“The reason I still talk on my cellphone in the car today, hands-free or Bluetooth, is that it keeps me alert,” said Joseph Rajkovacz, a retired executive with the Western States Trucking Association. “It’s like turning on the radio and singing along to a song you like. Doesn’t matter if nobody wants to hear you sing — it still helps you stay sharp.”

That’s why Gerald Bailey, 53, says he spends 27 hours a week on the phone with his wife and siblings, chatting at all hours of the day and night. It’s become part of his routine every time he gets behind the wheel.

Earlier this summer, he was on the phone with his wife at a truck stop in Lodi while waiting for a mechanic to fix his rig’s air conditioning.

“I talk to my wife on the phone until she starts snoring,” Bailey said with a smile. “Then I let her rest — she’s earned it, and I don’t want to bother her.”

Not every driver has that freedom, though. Some companies prohibit phone use while driving altogether and monitor cabs with cameras.

“It’s against company policy,” said Peter Andrews, 62, a trucker from Texas, walking through a truck stop near Sacramento. “I have to stop the truck to call anyone. They’ve got AI cameras pointed right at my face, so I can’t touch the phone.”

Health Risks on the Road

According to Project 61 data, 70% of truckers in the United States are obese — double the rate among American workers generally. Truckers also experience heart disease and depression at twice the national average, and diabetes at twice the rate of the general population.

Raman Dhillon, executive director of the North American Punjabi Trucking Association, knows those risks firsthand. Years behind the wheel led to weight gain, and eventually diagnoses of diabetes and high blood pressure.

Truckers are “out there on the road. They’re isolated in that 3-by-3-meter cab, and the loneliness in that moment is intense,” Dhillon said. “You’ve got 11 hours of driving, three hours of rest, 10 hours of sleep — it’s a constant cycle. I think a lot of drivers cope with that through phone calls.”

Singh sees the physical health risks as closely tied to psychological isolation. He said drivers tend to feel more disconnected when they’re eating poorly on the road. That’s why his wife, Harjinder Kaur, a nurse, prepares two or three home-cooked Indian curries along with whole wheat bread for him to take on deliveries.

Truckers also describe facing discrimination that complicates their travels, including businesses refusing to let them use restrooms. The issue reached Congress last year, when a Republican lawmaker introduced legislation that would require retailers and warehouses to give truckers restroom access. The bill has stalled.

“They won’t let us use the bathrooms,” said Brenda Johnson, 58, who drives a route from Oregon with her husband. “There’s no infrastructure for us. And these companies we’re delivering to treat us like we’re less than human.”

Exercise poses its own challenge. “We really don’t have anywhere safe to work out,” Johnson said at a truck stop near Interstate 80 in Sacramento. “You want to walk around a parking lot with trucks coming in and out? You’re dodging everything. There’s just no safe place to move around.”

Fighting Loneliness

Even constant company hasn’t erased Johnson’s loneliness. “Even though my husband rides with me and is right there beside me, I can feel lonely and not lonely at the same time,” said Johnson, who has been driving since 2005. “Since we’re together all the time, we don’t really have much to talk about.”

Instead, Johnson leans on two friends in the trucking industry and a handful of close relatives. On an average day, she spends about an hour on the phone outside of work-related calls, though that number can swing widely depending on her mood.

“When I’m in a good headspace, my five hours a week can turn into almost 25,” Johnson said. “But when I’m down, I isolate myself. I don’t want to talk to anybody. I just don’t want to deal with anything.”

José Martínez, 50, a long-haul driver resting at a truck stop near Stockton, described a similar rhythm. He has wrestled with guilt over missing time with his family while working, and now calls relatives or friends whenever loneliness creeps in during a 10-hour shift.

“It’s basically constant, and talking to people is a good thing,” Martínez said.

Talking Through Emergencies

For immigrant drivers, cellphone calls offer an instant connection to their home countries that simply wasn’t possible in the era of CB radio.

The American trucking industry has long relied on immigrant labor. Between 2000 and 2021, the number of foreign-born truckers more than doubled, growing from 316,000 to more than 720,000 drivers. Today, roughly 18% of U.S. truckers are foreign-born. According to the North American Punjabi Trucking Association, nearly 35% of Punjabi Indian truckers contribute to California’s trucking industry.

Singh, the Fresno driver, moonlights as the host of a weekly television program covering Punjab politics. He’s also writing a book titled “Ameriki Trucknama” — roughly, “The American Trucking Saga” — and has built a following of 19,000 on Facebook, where people turn to him for political commentary.

Driving toward Kansas City earlier this summer, fellow Punjabi drivers asked for his take on the outcome of upcoming legislative elections in Punjab, the northern Indian state many of them call home.

Back on the highway, Singh points to more tangible benefits of these long calls — like helping drivers manage emergencies far from home.

Two years ago, he was on the phone with a friend when the man’s fuel line burst somewhere in rural Texas. Panicked, Singh stayed on the line while his friend searched for a local mechanic.

“If I hadn’t been on that call, who knows what would have happened,” Singh said.

Original source: CalMatters

The post Why Truckers Seem to Always Be on the Phone While Driving on the Freeway appeared first on The Hemet & San Jacinto Chronicle.

A recent CalMatters report by Gagandeep Singh dug into why phone calls have become such a fixture of life on the road for truckers, who often spend long stretches, day and night, hauling freight across the state and country with little human contact and few chances to unwind.

Piloting an 80,000-pound truck alone for hours at a time takes a toll. Drivers say there’s rarely time or opportunity to exercise, and the isolation can wear on a person. Phone calls to spouses, family members and other truckers, they say, offer a rare outlet.

Gerald Bailey, one of the drivers interviewed for the report, said he spends about 27 hours a week on the phone, mostly talking with his wife and brothers. During a stop earlier this summer at a truck stop in Lodi, he was on the line with his wife, as he often is late into the evening.

“I stay on the phone with my wife until she starts snoring,” Bailey said.

Lindsey Bryan, a health and wellness manager at a nonprofit that focuses on truckers’ well-being, said drivers are frequently separated from loved ones for long periods and lack many of the everyday outlets other workers use to manage stress. California has never conducted a statewide study specifically examining truck drivers’ mental health, and the state has no formal program to help truckers who may be struggling.

For some drivers, a simple phone call is one of the few comforts available. But not everyone on the road has that option. Peter Andrews, a trucker from Texas who was passing through a truck stop near Sacramento, said his company strictly bans phone use while driving.

“I have to pull over the truck to call someone,” Andrews said. “They’ve put camera equipment with artificial intelligence right on my face, so I can’t use my phone.”

The story is part of CalMatters’ ongoing coverage of mental health issues facing California workers.

In other news from around the state:

The race for California’s next insurance commissioner might seem far removed from the concerns of renters, but the outcome could hit close to home for millions of Californians who don’t own property. Renters make up about 44% of the state’s population, and the condition of California’s property insurance market directly shapes what they pay in rent, how much housing is available and how quickly neighborhoods can bounce back after disasters, according to CalMatters reporter Levi Sumagaysay.

Gil Barel learned that firsthand after last year’s Eaton Fire tore through parts of Southern California. Her apartment complex in Pasadena wasn’t destroyed, but smoke seeped into the building for days afterward. A test she paid for herself turned up toxic contaminants, though she’s still waiting on additional results. Her landlord arranged for a cleaning in March, but Barel says it fell short of what was needed.

“The issue is that I have no control,” Barel said. “It really depends on the conversation between my landlord and their insurance company. If the landlord does the minimum, or if they don’t feel the need to fight or be insistent on certain things, then it’s not going to happen.”

Meanwhile, state lawmakers are moving to place new restrictions on the growing use of artificial intelligence chatbots for mental health support, according to CalMatters health reporter Ana B. Ibarra. An Assembly bill would bar companies from marketing chatbots as a form of therapy, prohibit AI systems from making therapeutic decisions without oversight from a licensed professional, and require providers to obtain a patient’s consent before recording therapy sessions using AI tools.

State Sen. Steve Padilla, a Chula Vista Democrat who authored the bill, said lawmakers are grappling with technology that’s evolving faster than regulators can keep pace with.

“We’re dealing with a new impactful technology that is unfolding and is deployed in our world at light speed, and so it is both extremely powerful and consequential,” Padilla said.

Business groups including the California Chamber of Commerce and TechNet oppose the measure, arguing it would stifle innovation and limit the potential benefits AI could offer.

Original source: CalMatters

The post Truckers and Cellphone Use Behind the Wheel: What’s Behind the Habit? appeared first on The Hemet & San Jacinto Chronicle.

Singh, a Fresno-based trucker with a following on social media, spends roughly eight hours a day on the phone while hauling freight, six days a week. He calls it a “call of empathy” — a practice he credits with keeping him alert behind the wheel and lifting his spirits during long, solitary stretches on the road.

He’s far from alone. Across California and beyond, truckers are increasingly turning their cabs into rolling phone booths, connecting with friends, family and fellow drivers scattered across continents and time zones. For many, it’s become an essential coping mechanism in a profession defined by isolation, long hours and limited access to basic comforts like exercise or even a bathroom.

“There is a lot of stress on truck drivers in the United States,” Singh said. “I think the long call is a meaningful method that can reduce this level of stress, social isolation or loneliness in the truck by sharing feelings with others.”

Drivers are careful to note that talking on the phone while driving is illegal in California unless done hands-free, and most keep one ear uncovered to stay within the law. They also acknowledge the risks: several told CalMatters they end calls the moment traffic gets heavy. The stakes are real — losing control of an 80,000-pound rig, endangering others on the highway, or jeopardizing a commercial license that isn’t easy to win back. The California Department of Motor Vehicles reviews drivers’ physical and mental fitness during license renewals and can suspend those who fall short.

Despite the scale of the trucking industry in California, the state has never conducted a comprehensive study on truckers’ mental health, nor does it offer a formal path to rehabilitation for drivers facing psychological struggles. If a mental health issue draws the state’s attention, drivers are largely left to hire their own attorneys and fight to keep their licenses.

Lindsey Bryan, health and wellness manager at Project 61, a nonprofit focused on trucker health, said isolation is a daily reality for the profession. “We see that drivers face social isolation daily,” Bryan said. “They’re away from their loved ones, and also lacking many of the things that you and I might do on a day-to-day basis that help us reduce our stress.”

Researchers have found that truckers experience social media differently than most people. A 2016 study, “Work Strain, Social Isolation and Mental Health of Long-Haul Truckers,” noted that heavy social media use is often tied to feelings of isolation among the general public. For truckers, though, platforms like WhatsApp and FaceTime tend to do the opposite — providing a sense of community during otherwise solitary hours. The study’s authors wrote that these tools offer drivers “much-needed social connections during layovers, while waiting to load/unload their trucks… or during emergencies.”

Talking on the phone, many drivers say, doesn’t distract them — it keeps them sharp. “The reason, even in my car today, I talk on my cell phone, via hands-free or bluetooth and it keeps you alert,” said Joseph Rajkovacz, a retired executive with the Western States Trucking Association. “It’s no different than turning on your radio and singing along to a song you like… So it does help keep you alert, too.”

Gerald Bailey, 53, said he logs about 27 hours a week on the phone with his wife and brothers. Parked at a truck stop in Lodi this summer while waiting on a mechanic to fix his air conditioning, Bailey described his nightly routine with a laugh: “I stay on the phone with my wife until she starts snoring. Then I let her have a well-deserved sleep and I don’t want to disturb her.”

Not every driver has that freedom. Some trucking companies bar phone use entirely and monitor cabs with AI-equipped cameras. “It’s against company policy,” said Peter Andrews, 62, of Texas, at a truck stop near Sacramento. “I have to pull over the truck to call someone. They’ve put camera equipment with artificial intelligence right on my face, so I can’t use my phone.”

The isolation takes a physical toll as well. According to Project 61, 70% of U.S. truck drivers are obese — roughly double the rate among American workers generally. Truckers also face heart disease and depression at twice the national average, and diabetes at twice the rate of the general population.

Raman Dhillon, chief executive officer of the North American Punjabi Trucking Association, has lived that reality. During his years driving, he gained weight and was later diagnosed with diabetes and high blood pressure. “They are quarantining in that 10-by-10 cab, and loneliness at that time is intense,” Dhillon said. “You have 11 hours of driving, three hours of break, and 10 hours of sleep, and it’s constantly going on. I think a lot of drivers cope with this through phone calls.”

Singh sees a direct link between poor diet and mental strain on the road. To combat it, his wife, Harjinder Kaur, a nurse, packs him homemade Indian curries and wheat breads for his trips.

Beyond loneliness, truckers describe facing what they call outright disrespect from businesses that refuse them restroom access. The issue reached Congress last year, when a Republican lawmaker introduced legislation requiring retailers and warehouses to grant truckers bathroom access. The bill has stalled.

“They don’t allow us to use restrooms,” said Brenda Johnson, 58, an Oregon-based driver who works alongside her husband. “There’s no structure. And these companies where we deliver treat us as less than human.”

Exercise poses its own challenge. “We don’t really have any safe place to exercise,” Johnson said at a truck stop near Interstate 80 in Sacramento. “Do you want to walk around a parking lot with trucks going in and out? You’re dodging all kinds of things. There’s no real safe place for exercise.”

Even sharing a cab with her husband hasn’t erased her sense of solitude. “Even though my husband rides with me and is constantly with me, I can still be alone and not be alone,” said Johnson, who has driven since 2005. “Because we’re together all the time, we don’t really have anything to talk about.” Instead, she leans on two close friends in the industry and a handful of family members, spending anywhere from five to 25 hours a week on personal calls depending on her mood. “When I’m depressed, though, I isolate myself,” she said. “I don’t want to talk to anybody. I just don’t want to deal with anything.”

Jose Martinez, 50, a long-haul driver resting at a truck stop near Stockton, described a similar pattern, saying he often feels guilty about time away from his family. Now he calls loved ones whenever loneliness creeps in during his 10-hour shifts. “It’s basically the whole time, and it’s a positive thing to talk to people,” he said.

For immigrant drivers in particular, cellphones offer a connection to home that didn’t exist in the era of CB radios. Foreign-born truckers have become an increasingly vital part of the industry — their numbers more than doubled nationally between 2000 and 2021, climbing from 316,000 to over 720,000. Today, about 18% of U.S. truckers were born outside the country. According to the North American Punjabi Trucking Association, nearly 35% of California’s trucking workforce is made up of Punjabi drivers of Indian origin.

Singh, who also hosts a weekly television program on Punjab politics and is writing a book titled “Ameriki Trucknama” — “American Truck Saga” — has built a following of 19,000 on Facebook, where fans seek out his political commentary. On a recent drive to Kansas City, fellow Punjabi truckers peppered him with questions about upcoming legislative elections back home.

Beyond companionship, Singh said the calls have proven lifesaving in emergencies. Two years ago, he was on the phone with a friend when the man’s truck suffered a burst fuel line in rural Texas. Singh stayed on the line as his friend scrambled to find a mechanic nearby. “Eventually, if he had not been on the call, we don’t know what would have happened,” Singh said.

Original source: CalMatters

The post Truckers and Cellphone Use: What’s Really Going On Behind the Wheel appeared first on The Hemet & San Jacinto Chronicle.