"Which Way To Your Car, Sir?"
My local big-box grocery store trains its teenage baggers to offer to carry your purchases to your vehicle for you. Although I always decline (I think I'm a lot younger and more able-bodied than the target audience for this policy), I still invariably get the question:
"Which way to your car, sir?"
Setting aside my discomfort at apparently having recently become a "sir" at 35, the presumption that a car is my destination rubs me the wrong way. The bagger has usually started trying to stuff my groceries into little plastic bags before I even have a chance to hand them my bicycle pannier and explain that yes, everything I just bought has to fit inside it or else I won't be able to carry it home, and yes, it will fit, and in fact, "Actually, just let me do it; trust me, I've got a lot of practice at cramming stuff into this thing." By this point I'm often a novelty to the cashier in not just my lane but the adjoining one—"Get a load of this guy; he biked here! Whoa, good for you! I could never do that! Be safe out there!" Your mileage likely varies if you live in a Portland or NYC or Minneapolis, but this whole interaction is typical enough in Florida.
“The assumption that everybody drives is a mental barrier to empathizing with and seeing the world through the eyes of non-drivers.”
I'm aware these are innocuous things, and there are real problems in the world. Being a novelty at Publix doesn't impact my quality of life; it's just one of the subtle daily reminders that I live in a world that views a car as a universal and necessary extension of the self, more prosthetic device than merely useful tool. And that world actually does create real problems for people.
The assumption that everybody drives—Do you need any help out to your car today, ma’am?—is a mental barrier to empathizing with and seeing the world through the eyes of non-drivers. And that, in turn, is a barrier to popular support for policies like ending parking minimums, narrowing lanes and slowing traffic, and creating safe infrastructure for all street users —policies which would result in safer, more humane, and more financially productive and economically vibrant cities and neighborhoods.
Everyone who gets around without a car experiences the trivial indignities associated with being routinely ignored in the design of things—from banks with a drive-through ATM but no walk-up ATM, to buildings with no usable door fronting the sidewalk because it's assumed everyone will enter from the parking lot, to being expected to follow circuitous routes rather than direct ones because your time isn't valued or planned around. But these things don't actually deter many people from walking or biking; they just send a reminder, "Hey, you're an afterthought here. People think you're weird."
Here, though, are five things that do actually deter many from leaving the car at home (or not having one).
In this list, I've deliberately left out the big, overarching issue of the actual experience of using the street as a vulnerable road user—a walker, bike rider, wheelchair user, or so forth. That merits many articles of its own. This is about ways in which people's behavior outside of traffic can act as a powerful deterrent to going carless.
1. Lack of Safe Bike Parking
The most common object I lock my bike to is not a bike rack, but rather a public "No Parking" (or 2-hour parking or some such) sign. Enough said.
Whyyyyyy? (Via Flickr)
Oh, and even most bike rack designs are worthless if you have a U-lock. One of the great mysteries of the universe to me is who designs these things, and if anyone actually attempts to lock a bike to them before mass-production starts.
I mostly end up biking to well-trafficked, low-crime places, so I've never had a bike stolen. But I personally know more than a few people who won't bike because theft is a legitimately huge concern for them.
2. Lack of Storage for Personal Items
One of the most under-appreciated aspects of having a car is that it's not only a means of transport; its trunk is a free, portable storage locker.
When I bike somewhere, I travel with a pannier—a nice durable bag that hooks onto the side of my bicycle rack while I'm riding, and doubles as a backpack when I'm not. When I walk more than a few blocks, or take the bus somewhere, I just wear a backpack.
It's great if I have one destination, but if I have a more complicated itinerary for the day, involving mid-day errands or a meeting or any appreciable amount of walking, lugging a bag around quickly becomes a nuisance. I've looked around many cities' downtowns for low-cost, short-term storage. It's hard to find. This seems like a huge market niche waiting to be filled.
Another offending factor here: clear-bag policies at the likes of sports stadiums and theaters are particularly obnoxious for non-drivers. If, say, you're biking and you want to bring a helmet, lights, a jacket or any sort of change of clothes with you when you bike to the big game, good luck figuring out those logistics.
3. Expectations Around Professionalism and Appearance
I've biked to every workplace I've ever worked at, and it's never been an issue; worst case, if the weather is hot, I get there early to make sure I had time to pop into the bathroom and spend a few minutes freshening up. Wet washcloth, hand towel, deodorant, comb, change of clothes. All good.
I know that at some workplaces, though, I would get pushback—supervisors would think I looked unprofessional and/or worry my biking routine would be off-putting to clients. Heck, I read a story recently of someone whose employer expressed grave concerns that their car was too old and beat up. (I do worry about appearances when I do freelance private tutoring—I never bike to meet with my students until a few lessons in, when they know me well enough that it’s not awkward to show up in a biking outfit and change in the bathroom.)
All of this stigma is many times worse for women than for the average man, too. Women routinely face expectations around appearance and presentation in the workplace (think high heels) that make it much more onerous to walk or bike to work, if not effectively impossible.
4. Stigma And Expectations Around Children’s Safety
Let's get this out of the way: if you have a kid, that odds are very good that the single most dangerous thing you will ever subject your kid to is routinely riding around in a car. Statistics bear this out. (And it’s not a new revelation; here’s an LA Times article from way back in 1996 about how suburbs are a more dangerous place to grow up than inner cities, purely because of cars—and this is before the monumental decreases in crime that nearly all U.S. cities have experienced between the ‘90s and now.)
That said, that statistical reality hasn’t really worked its way into society’s ideas about safety when it comes to children. And if you're a parent who wants to keep up your active-transportation habit and involve your children in it, good luck.
It starts on Day 1 at the hospital. Nearly all hospitals require you to demonstrate that you own a car seat and have it installed correctly before they will discharge you with your newborn. This is true whether or not you actually have a car. This is even true in New York City, where new parents periodically post on Reddit about being expected to buy a car seat and take a taxi a few blocks home because the hospital will not allow them to depart on foot with their baby in a stroller or wearable carrier.
(The issue here is not car seat versus no car seat—let me be very clear about that. If your kid is in a car, your kid should be in a properly installed car seat. The issue is that it's even better for your kid to just not be in a car so much.)
If you really want to see some shocked looks, go to one of those parenting classes where you get all sorts of useful advice on things like car seats, and ask a question about what is a safe age to begin bringing your child on a bicycle with you. You will be stared at as though you had just asked when would be a good age to go skydiving with your baby.
(For the record, here, here, and here are some actual good answers as to when, and how, you can safely begin to bike with a young child. By no means before 1 year of age, and not without the right set-up.)
5. Legitimate Safety Concerns Unrelated to Traffic
Lastly, our streets are public space, and different people get treated very differently in public space, often for reasons that are about who they are and what they look like more than how they're getting around. But a car is a big metal suit of armor, and not having one can leave you vulnerable.
I've had women friends tell me they won't bike or walk specifically because they'll be subject to street harassment. It’s depressingly hard to argue with. (Research also shows that while in traffic, women who bike are treated more aggressively and dangerously by drivers than men who bike.)
And it's been documented that young people of color are disproportionately subject to intrusive scrutiny in public—for example, receiving the vast majority of jaywalking tickets in New York City despite almost certainly not being the vast majority of jaywalkers.
Until the environment is comfortable, safe, and welcoming to all sorts of people who choose to get around without a car, physical infrastructure alone isn't going to do the job. We need to take a more holistic approach that includes all the things that are sometimes called social or human infrastructure. (Check out our interview last year with Dr. Adonia Lugo, author of Bicycle/Race, for more on this topic.)
And non-planners and non-engineers need to get in on the game, too.
So start with this challenge: watch for all the occasions in a normal day or week when you assume someone has a car, they assume you have one, or the design of the environment around you assumes everyone has one. Even if you know this intellectually, you may be surprised how pervasive it is.
Top image via Unsplash.
The town of Thomasville, GA is taking small and affordable but very impactful steps to make its downtown more welcoming to people on bikes.