The New York Times' "Freakonomics" blog posted a piece about congestion pricing yesterday, and a torrent of comments ensued. I jumped into the fray, intending to be brief; but as they say, I didn't have time to write a short piece. Here it is, with some typos removed:
The success of any pricing plan aimed at reducing traffic congestion is determined by a) the effectiveness of other options (e.g., public transit and bicycling) and b) what the revenues would be spent on.
To my first point, in New York City, the idea of internalizing external costs is a no-brainer. And while the faux-populist arguments about the regressiveness of a pricing plan are appealing, they are easy to swat away with New York’s considerable transit system. Poor people in New York use transit. This is not true, of course, in cities that don’t have public transit, but many cities do, in one form or another, and poor people use it. You also see people riding bicycles or walking on dangerously fast roads. (How is that good for poor people? If you don’t own a car in most cities, you’re worthless – that’s not regressive?)
Still, public transit in New York could use a lot of improvement. For instance, have you taken a bus in New York recently? On some routes, you’re better off walking. It’s unconscionable that New York isn’t a world leader in Bus Rapid Transit (BRT); segregated lanes should be devoted to low-floor buses that passengers board after paying fares to facilitate shorter stops. Yes, lanes should be taken from personally owned vehicles in New York and devoted to transit.
New York also suffers from a dearth of quality bicycling infrastructure, despite the valiant efforts of our new DOT Commissioner. And the bicycle is not a child’s toy – it can be an incredibly effective transportation tool in many cities. Just as another commenter wrote “mo-tor-cycle,” and with good reason, bicycles are an incredibly efficient use of space. The only reason bicycling isn't viable in so many places is that it is downright dangerous to ride a bicycle in most places (sadly, even in New York City). But a real network of separated bike lanes throughout New York – something like what Copenhagen and Amsterdam have – would encourage many New Yorkers to ride. “Oh, but Denmark is Denmark, and America is America” – yes, and Denmark, nearly 40 years ago, was a lot more like America. Bicycling was not widely accepted in Copenhagen until citizens pushed for better infrastructure; now, 40% of Copenhagen residents commute by bike. (Copenhagen is much smaller than New York City, so I am under no delusion that we can reach such numbers – but Washington, DC, can. So can a lot of other American cities.)
A pricing plan would be a great revenue generator. This is where my second point comes in: such revenues have to be devoted to moving people effectively in large numbers – not cars. A hundred years ago, the Brooklyn Bridge moved twice as many people as it does today because it accommodated trolleys rather than cars. The automobile is simply not an effective way to move large numbers of people, and we can’t build our way out of congestion with more roads in New York. Some people responded to this posting to suggest that we simply build more roads: come to New York, and tell us where these new roads should go, and then tell us where the displaced thousands of residents should move to make way for these roads. (You’d have a hard time selling this idea in most other cities in the United States, too – not just New York.)
We simply can’t just move cars more effectively in New York. So if we are to move people more effectively, we have a way to create a relatively cheap, efficient system. And there is no silver bullet; the answer is probably a combination of cars, subways, commuter rail, bicycles, and buses (and again, in my opinion, BRT should be a major component).
This system has to be great. And people will recognize a great system when they see it. But right now, New Yorkers won’t fall for a pricing mechanism because they don’t believe they’ll get anything for it. So the revenues generated from a pricing plan aimed at automobiles have to be devoted 100% to an integrated transportation system.
As for the type of pricing plan, I am dubious about a congestion plan. It requires a lot of infrastructure, and I tend to be wary of technological solutions – not because I’m a Luddite, but because I think an over-reliance on technology sometimes steers us away from other ideas that might be just as good or better. Instead, I would prefer to see New York eliminate off-street parking requirements (yes, New York City has off-street parking minimums, while other major cities in the United States are getting rid of them; and while there are limits in one part of Manhattan, those limits are easy for developers to get around). Also, New York should tax the heck out of off-street parking spaces. Parking spaces are destinations for cars – there’s an “if you build it, they will come” dynamic there – and regulating them more tightly would be very easy to do from a technological perspective.
As for the politics… Well, as with all of these ideas, that’s where the rubber hits the road.
Showing posts with label bicycling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bicycling. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
[THE PUBLIC REALM]
Summer Streets
Summer Streets, New York’s seven-mile road closure (or “opening”) on three consecutive Saturdays from 7:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m., is over. The City DOT will presumably now compile and analyze all sorts of the data to ascertain the program’s success. The biggest question to answer, and the one that has been most publicized, is this: were businesses hurt, as some had predicted, or did they experience no change or actually benefit? Other questions come to mind as well: did Summer Streets function as planned? What opportunities presented themselves that had not been considered beforehand? What problems? Did potential partnerships present themselves? What potential revenue generators are there? And what potential cost-cutting measures?
My wife and I missed the first two weekends of Summer Streets, but we made it out this past Saturday, the last day, starting at the Brooklyn Bridge and heading north. Unfortunately, our time was limited, so we only got as far as 32nd Street or so. But what we did see was very thought-provoking. It was a novel experience for New Yorkers (and tourists), many of whom looked almost like characters at the end of a weather disaster film, when people emerge from their homes, a little disoriented, to watch the storm retreat into the distance. Their faces convey deep relief and a renewed sense of hope, but also weariness, and a little confusion as to what to do next.
Sight, Hearing, and Smell
I hadn’t expected the sensory experience of Summer Streets – it was powerful. I noticed different sensory inputs in succession. First, I was giddy at the sight of a major road taken over by people walking, running, and riding. Then, after several blocks, I noticed how wonderfully, peacefully quiet it was – the loudest noises came from the air conditioning systems of the buildings aligning the route. But the most pervasive sounds were those of footfalls, the various workings of bicycles, and people talking.
Then, much later, it hit me that the air was…well, clean; as a regular New York City bicycle commuter, I’d become used to the near-constant exhaust of cars, buses, and trucks along my route between home and my office. So it was a pleasant surprise to be able to breathe deeply and easily.
The Value of Ambiguity and the Problems of Uninsurable Guarantees
I would personally have liked to see more ambiguity and more mixing of uses. The reason for this is that I think that trying to limit ambiguity actually creates more confusion: no one can follow the rules perfectly 100% of the time, and, of those who are following the rules at any given time, many cannot or will not account for the errors on their part or on the part of others. I think this can end up making for more unsafe conditions. In an obviously ambiguous environment people know instinctively what to do: slow down and pay attention.
(Again, I would push ambiguity only in a limited number of specific situations. Also, the degree of desired ambiguity depends on the overall goals.)
To explain my point I’ll take, for comparison, an environment in which the dominance of a user group is absolutely clear and perfectly manageable: a motor-vehicle tunnel. In this setting people – motorists, in this case – are guaranteed not to encounter other people, say, walking in a lane (I’m sure there are some exceptions to this, but they are aberrant and rare). But in an environment where there isn’t absolute control and clarity as to which user group or activity dominates, providing someone with a guarantee of her complete, unquestioned dominance of a space is tricky. If that guarantee cannot be backed up it provides only an illusion of safety, sometimes leading that person to be less observant and more prone to error.
I’m not sure how to add more ambiguity to the mix in the Summer Streets program, and I know that there must be hundreds of considerations of which I’m unaware. One such consideration maybe the setup and breakdown of stages and other event infrastructure: imagine if one were to propose setting up the mini-events – the classes, &c. – closer to or even partially jutting into the main Summer Streets drag. The small window of time the organizers are allowed to set up and break down would not allow this – hence the locations on side streets, which are easier to block for a longer period of time.
A Series of Events? Or a Thoroughfare?
Another possible result of the illusion of safety appears to be anger: when people’s dominance is suddenly put into doubt, they get pretty pissed off. Case in point: when we saw a tennis class for little kids on a side street, my wife and I slowed down gradually to watch. We were blocking about half a lane, and the road wasn’t crowded at that point. After about half a minute, someone tore by and yelled, “Not a good place to stop!” I replied, “Yeah, relax, buddy”; I wish I’d remembered my standby for people who seem to think they’re racing in the Tour de France – “We love you, Lance!” My wife and I had thought that a big part of Summer Streets was the ability to wander, stop once in a while, observe, participate, &c. Clearly, “Lance” didn’t agree with that notion.
The tennis workshop was an example of intermittent punctuations along the thoroughfare by small concerts, classes, and demonstrations of various activities and sports. I was struck by how stark – through the use of signage, cones, physical separation, and marshals – was the distinction between riding and running on one hand, and, on the other, the events.
I’d be very interested to see the data on any user conflicts, whether or not they resulted in accidents. I’d be even more interested in seeing how those data were gathered and interpreted. Sometimes the most valuable information can be anecdotal – for instance, if someone observed the “tennis for tots” area for an hour or so, taking notes and video, she could greatly inform how such areas are planned in the future.
Chute Alors!
A “chute” mentality seemed to take hold of most riders. Instead of watching out for people crossing and ceding way to them, the majority of riders rode through, encouraged by cones and the closures of (most) cross streets to cars to think that they had the supreme right of way, and that they didn’t have to look out for anyone else. It was very easy to behave in this way; it wasn’t until after we turned around that my wife and I realized that there were people at every intersection waiting to cross.
“Nature Abhors a Vacuum”: Summer Streets for Recreation, or More?
When we turned onto Centre Street upon arrival in Manhattan from Brooklyn, it was immediately apparent how similar Summer Streets was to a recreational trail for biking and running. Later, as my wife and I rode our bicycles back to Brooklyn, she said that she bet that there were no fewer runners and cyclists on the bikeway along West Street that day than any other. “Nature abhors a vacuum,” she said, as a metaphor – if a recreational resource opens up for use, people will fill it and use it.
I don’t know how far Summer Streets was supposed to go beyond “active” recreational use (I hate the term, but I see no alternative here, and I use it to mean running and bicycling). There’s certainly evidence that this was the primary focus, but, either way, the program will no doubt develop over time. I think that, in future editions, the program could use more events and activities along the way. For instance, a variation on some business improvement districts’ (BIDs) “taste of” events (such as Times Square Alliance's). Also, over the years, through careful tweaks in timing and through patient work with business owners and other stakeholders, the initiative may even lead to New Yorkers (and visitors) re-conceiving the city’s streets and thinking about transportation in a different way.
My wife and I missed the first two weekends of Summer Streets, but we made it out this past Saturday, the last day, starting at the Brooklyn Bridge and heading north. Unfortunately, our time was limited, so we only got as far as 32nd Street or so. But what we did see was very thought-provoking. It was a novel experience for New Yorkers (and tourists), many of whom looked almost like characters at the end of a weather disaster film, when people emerge from their homes, a little disoriented, to watch the storm retreat into the distance. Their faces convey deep relief and a renewed sense of hope, but also weariness, and a little confusion as to what to do next.
Sight, Hearing, and Smell
I hadn’t expected the sensory experience of Summer Streets – it was powerful. I noticed different sensory inputs in succession. First, I was giddy at the sight of a major road taken over by people walking, running, and riding. Then, after several blocks, I noticed how wonderfully, peacefully quiet it was – the loudest noises came from the air conditioning systems of the buildings aligning the route. But the most pervasive sounds were those of footfalls, the various workings of bicycles, and people talking.
Then, much later, it hit me that the air was…well, clean; as a regular New York City bicycle commuter, I’d become used to the near-constant exhaust of cars, buses, and trucks along my route between home and my office. So it was a pleasant surprise to be able to breathe deeply and easily.
The Value of Ambiguity and the Problems of Uninsurable Guarantees
I would personally have liked to see more ambiguity and more mixing of uses. The reason for this is that I think that trying to limit ambiguity actually creates more confusion: no one can follow the rules perfectly 100% of the time, and, of those who are following the rules at any given time, many cannot or will not account for the errors on their part or on the part of others. I think this can end up making for more unsafe conditions. In an obviously ambiguous environment people know instinctively what to do: slow down and pay attention.
(Again, I would push ambiguity only in a limited number of specific situations. Also, the degree of desired ambiguity depends on the overall goals.)
To explain my point I’ll take, for comparison, an environment in which the dominance of a user group is absolutely clear and perfectly manageable: a motor-vehicle tunnel. In this setting people – motorists, in this case – are guaranteed not to encounter other people, say, walking in a lane (I’m sure there are some exceptions to this, but they are aberrant and rare). But in an environment where there isn’t absolute control and clarity as to which user group or activity dominates, providing someone with a guarantee of her complete, unquestioned dominance of a space is tricky. If that guarantee cannot be backed up it provides only an illusion of safety, sometimes leading that person to be less observant and more prone to error.
I’m not sure how to add more ambiguity to the mix in the Summer Streets program, and I know that there must be hundreds of considerations of which I’m unaware. One such consideration maybe the setup and breakdown of stages and other event infrastructure: imagine if one were to propose setting up the mini-events – the classes, &c. – closer to or even partially jutting into the main Summer Streets drag. The small window of time the organizers are allowed to set up and break down would not allow this – hence the locations on side streets, which are easier to block for a longer period of time.
A Series of Events? Or a Thoroughfare?
Another possible result of the illusion of safety appears to be anger: when people’s dominance is suddenly put into doubt, they get pretty pissed off. Case in point: when we saw a tennis class for little kids on a side street, my wife and I slowed down gradually to watch. We were blocking about half a lane, and the road wasn’t crowded at that point. After about half a minute, someone tore by and yelled, “Not a good place to stop!” I replied, “Yeah, relax, buddy”; I wish I’d remembered my standby for people who seem to think they’re racing in the Tour de France – “We love you, Lance!” My wife and I had thought that a big part of Summer Streets was the ability to wander, stop once in a while, observe, participate, &c. Clearly, “Lance” didn’t agree with that notion.
The tennis workshop was an example of intermittent punctuations along the thoroughfare by small concerts, classes, and demonstrations of various activities and sports. I was struck by how stark – through the use of signage, cones, physical separation, and marshals – was the distinction between riding and running on one hand, and, on the other, the events.
I’d be very interested to see the data on any user conflicts, whether or not they resulted in accidents. I’d be even more interested in seeing how those data were gathered and interpreted. Sometimes the most valuable information can be anecdotal – for instance, if someone observed the “tennis for tots” area for an hour or so, taking notes and video, she could greatly inform how such areas are planned in the future.
Chute Alors!
A “chute” mentality seemed to take hold of most riders. Instead of watching out for people crossing and ceding way to them, the majority of riders rode through, encouraged by cones and the closures of (most) cross streets to cars to think that they had the supreme right of way, and that they didn’t have to look out for anyone else. It was very easy to behave in this way; it wasn’t until after we turned around that my wife and I realized that there were people at every intersection waiting to cross.
“Nature Abhors a Vacuum”: Summer Streets for Recreation, or More?
When we turned onto Centre Street upon arrival in Manhattan from Brooklyn, it was immediately apparent how similar Summer Streets was to a recreational trail for biking and running. Later, as my wife and I rode our bicycles back to Brooklyn, she said that she bet that there were no fewer runners and cyclists on the bikeway along West Street that day than any other. “Nature abhors a vacuum,” she said, as a metaphor – if a recreational resource opens up for use, people will fill it and use it.
I don’t know how far Summer Streets was supposed to go beyond “active” recreational use (I hate the term, but I see no alternative here, and I use it to mean running and bicycling). There’s certainly evidence that this was the primary focus, but, either way, the program will no doubt develop over time. I think that, in future editions, the program could use more events and activities along the way. For instance, a variation on some business improvement districts’ (BIDs) “taste of” events (such as Times Square Alliance's). Also, over the years, through careful tweaks in timing and through patient work with business owners and other stakeholders, the initiative may even lead to New Yorkers (and visitors) re-conceiving the city’s streets and thinking about transportation in a different way.
Monday, August 18, 2008
[BIKES/CARS/TRAINS]
One Less Car. Screw the Rest of You!
The weather forecast this morning called for a hot, humid day, so I decided to wear a T-shirt for my bike ride to work. I coast as much as possible to avoid over-heating when it's warm, and I actually end up sweating less on my bike than I do riding the subway; just standing on the platform makes me feel like the baby wearing the diaper that leaks in those old Huggies commercials.
I grabbed the most accessible T-shirt, which turned out to be my new Transportation Alternatives shirt. It's beautifully designed: it's white, with TransAlt's new logo (designed by Milton Glaser, the great graphic designer of "I [Heart] NY" fame) on the side. On the back, in huge, all-caps text, it reads, "ONE LESS CAR."
I put on the shirt, and was putzing around the apartment getting ready to go, when my brother, who's visiting from California with his wife, joked, "Why don't you just wear a shirt that says, 'FUCK ALL OF YOU DRIVERS'?" I laughed and joked back that I'd like one that said, "ONE FEWER CAR" – typical humor in our family.
When I rolled down my street I thought about my brother's joke, and figured that I might as well wear a target on my back. I'd had this shirt for just a few weeks, and loved it – the design is great, and I agree with the message. But I realized that I would prefer a shirt that used humor rather than what can be interpreted as sanctimony and even hostility. On one hand, motorists in New York should be happy that I'm not driving – I'm not adding to the congestion that they experience on a daily basis.
On the other hand, if I saw a shirt that said, "ONE LESS ATHEIST," I'd interpret it as judgmental and holier than thou, and wouldn't feel at all compelled to see the Light and become a believer. Sanctimony doesn't work. Plus, I hadn't owned a car anyway (well, I did for a year, when I was rowing in Pelham at 5:30 a.m. each day, until last summer), so it's not like I used to drive, but then the clouds parted and I heard a chorus of angels, and then changed my ways. The shirt would be more accurate if it read, "ONE LESS SUBWAY RIDER."
A few other reasons the shirt doesn't make sense for me. First – or rather, third – I ride my bike to work because I like to: I feel more awake when I get to work (I like to think this is due to the exercise, not from the adrenaline that comes with looking Death in the eye); I love being outside; and I'm much more physically comfortable biking than riding the subway (the same can be said of motorists in their cars, by the way).
Fourth, what about all the transit riders? As I waited at an intersection this morning for pedestrians to cross in front of me, other cyclists whizzed through them like they were so many gnats. I shrunk at the sight, hoping no one would associate me with those cyclists ( – but, oh yeah, I was wearing a target on my back!), and I reflected on the sanctimony in the bicycling community that I think justifies the "I wait for no one and no thing" attitude. What a way to make friends! Anyway, most of those pedestrians were walking to or from bus stops or subway stations – each of those transit riders is "ONE LESS CAR" too. Do any of those people commute to and from work in righteous indignation?
Believe me, I know that riding a bike in New York City will make the most patient, kind person into a raving, indignant jerk. Bicycling really should be a viable option in New York – it's relatively flat, the weather is pretty good most of the year, and the distances between most destinations in our daily lives here are fairly short. New York as it could/should be, juxtaposed with New York as it is (despite the vast improvements thanks to TransAlt and the current Transportation Commissioner, Janette Sadik-Khan), makes cyclists pretty angry.
Bicycling is a fantastic mode of transportation: it's clean, good for our health, quiet, and space-efficient. And yet a short ride in New York will very quickly tell you what New York thinks of you and your stupid bike. You feel like a cornered rat, giving proof to the obverse of Jan Gehl's somewhat-broken-English remark that "if you love people, they love you back": if a city, through the manner in which it builds and manages its streets, shows people no respect, they will, in turn, show that city and its laws – as well as other people – no respect.
I've ridden in righteous indignation myself, and I'm sure I will again, in weaker moments. But if we cyclists want to improve our reputation in this community, and therefore contribute to lasting change, we must rise above the dangers and slights we experience almost every day and not treat others as we do not want to be treated. So no rudeness, no riding through people as if they're a cloud of gnats, and no sanctimony and righteous indignation.
About 20 minutes into my commute this morning, on Third Avenue in Manhattan, I ran into a friend from college. He was walking his wife to work with their kids – they run a business together. We were chatting when my friend noticed the logo on the side of my shirt. I turned around to show the back, and mentioned my brother's joke. They both laughed, and my friend's wife said, "Yeah, why stop there? Why not just, 'FUCK ALL OF YOU'?"
This all reminded me of my old Mao fetish, which started with some old posters my grandmother had bought in China in the 70s that I hung for a few years in the 90s. The posters show Mao, looking to be about seven feet tall, striding through factories and fields, with eager, fawning peasants and workers walking alongside and behind him – some of them literally walking bent over and grinning, like in some old Western, racist depiction of "Chinamen"! – so proud of their work and so grateful to him for his magnanimity and wisdom. When I was in China in 2001, I bought a T-shirt that likened Mao to the sun – red and yellow rays emanated from his floating head as he wore that Mona Lisa smile. (I also bought a Mao watch that worked for about two days.)
After a year or two of owning this shirt, I realized that I might as well wear a Hitler or Stalin shirt ( – yeah, it took me that long). Wouldn't that be kitschy and cute? So witty, hip, and tongue in cheek! Mao, a deranged megalomaniac, who was carried on a litter during the Long March, and, later, as dictator, killed millions of people? Ha! What a doozy!
I promptly threw out the Mao shirt. (The posters had already been stashed – my wife never liked them – and an uncle has since taken them.)
This afternoon, on my ride home, I'll just wear my undershirt. I love my "ONE LESS CAR" shirt, but I think I'll give it away to someone who doesn't over-think everything or take his older brother's jokes so much to heart. As much as I admire TransAlt, my desire not to risk being viewed as hostile trumps my desire to broadcast my love for bikes. Besides, I'm not so much anti-car as I am pro-bike.
If I ever get the inclination to make my own pro-bike shirt, I'd like to use something gentler and more humorous, like "THIS, TOO, COULD BE YOU!" with a retro drawing of a guy on a bike flashing a toothy grin and winking. Kind of like, "if you lived here, you'd be home now." What do you think? Let me know. Also, please write in with other ideas. If I like your idea the best, I'll print up two T-shirts – one for me and one for you. And we'll both know that there's at least one other person out there who waits at intersections while people walk across the street – and that that person is just happy to be outside on a bicycle.
I grabbed the most accessible T-shirt, which turned out to be my new Transportation Alternatives shirt. It's beautifully designed: it's white, with TransAlt's new logo (designed by Milton Glaser, the great graphic designer of "I [Heart] NY" fame) on the side. On the back, in huge, all-caps text, it reads, "ONE LESS CAR."
I put on the shirt, and was putzing around the apartment getting ready to go, when my brother, who's visiting from California with his wife, joked, "Why don't you just wear a shirt that says, 'FUCK ALL OF YOU DRIVERS'?" I laughed and joked back that I'd like one that said, "ONE FEWER CAR" – typical humor in our family.
When I rolled down my street I thought about my brother's joke, and figured that I might as well wear a target on my back. I'd had this shirt for just a few weeks, and loved it – the design is great, and I agree with the message. But I realized that I would prefer a shirt that used humor rather than what can be interpreted as sanctimony and even hostility. On one hand, motorists in New York should be happy that I'm not driving – I'm not adding to the congestion that they experience on a daily basis.
On the other hand, if I saw a shirt that said, "ONE LESS ATHEIST," I'd interpret it as judgmental and holier than thou, and wouldn't feel at all compelled to see the Light and become a believer. Sanctimony doesn't work. Plus, I hadn't owned a car anyway (well, I did for a year, when I was rowing in Pelham at 5:30 a.m. each day, until last summer), so it's not like I used to drive, but then the clouds parted and I heard a chorus of angels, and then changed my ways. The shirt would be more accurate if it read, "ONE LESS SUBWAY RIDER."
A few other reasons the shirt doesn't make sense for me. First – or rather, third – I ride my bike to work because I like to: I feel more awake when I get to work (I like to think this is due to the exercise, not from the adrenaline that comes with looking Death in the eye); I love being outside; and I'm much more physically comfortable biking than riding the subway (the same can be said of motorists in their cars, by the way).
Fourth, what about all the transit riders? As I waited at an intersection this morning for pedestrians to cross in front of me, other cyclists whizzed through them like they were so many gnats. I shrunk at the sight, hoping no one would associate me with those cyclists ( – but, oh yeah, I was wearing a target on my back!), and I reflected on the sanctimony in the bicycling community that I think justifies the "I wait for no one and no thing" attitude. What a way to make friends! Anyway, most of those pedestrians were walking to or from bus stops or subway stations – each of those transit riders is "ONE LESS CAR" too. Do any of those people commute to and from work in righteous indignation?
Believe me, I know that riding a bike in New York City will make the most patient, kind person into a raving, indignant jerk. Bicycling really should be a viable option in New York – it's relatively flat, the weather is pretty good most of the year, and the distances between most destinations in our daily lives here are fairly short. New York as it could/should be, juxtaposed with New York as it is (despite the vast improvements thanks to TransAlt and the current Transportation Commissioner, Janette Sadik-Khan), makes cyclists pretty angry.
Bicycling is a fantastic mode of transportation: it's clean, good for our health, quiet, and space-efficient. And yet a short ride in New York will very quickly tell you what New York thinks of you and your stupid bike. You feel like a cornered rat, giving proof to the obverse of Jan Gehl's somewhat-broken-English remark that "if you love people, they love you back": if a city, through the manner in which it builds and manages its streets, shows people no respect, they will, in turn, show that city and its laws – as well as other people – no respect.
I've ridden in righteous indignation myself, and I'm sure I will again, in weaker moments. But if we cyclists want to improve our reputation in this community, and therefore contribute to lasting change, we must rise above the dangers and slights we experience almost every day and not treat others as we do not want to be treated. So no rudeness, no riding through people as if they're a cloud of gnats, and no sanctimony and righteous indignation.
About 20 minutes into my commute this morning, on Third Avenue in Manhattan, I ran into a friend from college. He was walking his wife to work with their kids – they run a business together. We were chatting when my friend noticed the logo on the side of my shirt. I turned around to show the back, and mentioned my brother's joke. They both laughed, and my friend's wife said, "Yeah, why stop there? Why not just, 'FUCK ALL OF YOU'?"
/////
This all reminded me of my old Mao fetish, which started with some old posters my grandmother had bought in China in the 70s that I hung for a few years in the 90s. The posters show Mao, looking to be about seven feet tall, striding through factories and fields, with eager, fawning peasants and workers walking alongside and behind him – some of them literally walking bent over and grinning, like in some old Western, racist depiction of "Chinamen"! – so proud of their work and so grateful to him for his magnanimity and wisdom. When I was in China in 2001, I bought a T-shirt that likened Mao to the sun – red and yellow rays emanated from his floating head as he wore that Mona Lisa smile. (I also bought a Mao watch that worked for about two days.)
After a year or two of owning this shirt, I realized that I might as well wear a Hitler or Stalin shirt ( – yeah, it took me that long). Wouldn't that be kitschy and cute? So witty, hip, and tongue in cheek! Mao, a deranged megalomaniac, who was carried on a litter during the Long March, and, later, as dictator, killed millions of people? Ha! What a doozy!
I promptly threw out the Mao shirt. (The posters had already been stashed – my wife never liked them – and an uncle has since taken them.)
/////
This afternoon, on my ride home, I'll just wear my undershirt. I love my "ONE LESS CAR" shirt, but I think I'll give it away to someone who doesn't over-think everything or take his older brother's jokes so much to heart. As much as I admire TransAlt, my desire not to risk being viewed as hostile trumps my desire to broadcast my love for bikes. Besides, I'm not so much anti-car as I am pro-bike.
If I ever get the inclination to make my own pro-bike shirt, I'd like to use something gentler and more humorous, like "THIS, TOO, COULD BE YOU!" with a retro drawing of a guy on a bike flashing a toothy grin and winking. Kind of like, "if you lived here, you'd be home now." What do you think? Let me know. Also, please write in with other ideas. If I like your idea the best, I'll print up two T-shirts – one for me and one for you. And we'll both know that there's at least one other person out there who waits at intersections while people walk across the street – and that that person is just happy to be outside on a bicycle.
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