What’s the First Sign of a Safe Street?

 
A yellow street sign featuring a picture of a running child and the words "Slow. Children at play."

(Source: Flickr.)

There was only one strip of sidewalk in the town I grew up in—and besides that single strip near the busy road leading to the local restaurant and post office, we didn't really need sidewalks. 

Granted, it was a small town, so cars hardly drove by, but when they did, I don’t remember them ever going over 15 mph. It wasn’t a danger to mill about and play in the street. The mostly sidewalk-less town worked out for us. We didn’t seem to need extra slabs of cement, and I never heard anyone complain about their absence (even though we kids were known to cut through neighbors' yards when we were in a rush).

The streets served as a connection between our homes and lives, they were a place where we’d play hopscotch or bounce a ball around, or race our bikes and skateboards. Kids seemed to own the streets—and the cars respected that. And in turn, we respected the cars. Once a kid saw a vehicle slowly advancing our way, you’d hear the routine shout—“Car!”—and in unison we’d chuck our toys to the ditch or yard and stand there patiently as the driver slowly moved by. Once they’d passed, we’d scurry back onto the street to continue our game. The streets were safe: They were dominated by people and served more purpose than just transporting cars around. 

Growing up, I never thought this was anything significant. It was a normality in my world—even the adults would play with us on the streets on occasion, especially during cookouts. When our community would host a town-wide picnic at the park, most of us would walk over and hang out on the street. The streets were for everyone, both cars and people.

Even in this small town, where cars never flooded the streets and by all rights, the drivers could easily speed to their destinations, for some reason they never did. The design of the streets prompted people to drive slower, and it created an environment where parents didn’t worry about their kids running around on the pavement. 

These streets in my hometown were incredibly narrow. There was just enough room for two cars to pass each other and there was no designated street parking. My town also had a decent amount of street trees strewn about. Though as a kid, I would have never called them that. A tree was just “our” tree, or the neighbor's tree that happened to be close to the road. In my young mind, the trees were just another element of my life-scaled jungle gym. 

A group of children hold jazz instruments and sing in a neighborhood street.

(Source: Flickr.)

Now, fast-forward to the town I currently reside in. I don’t see children out running around, even in the summer. There are so many possible internal and external factors that play into this absence of youth mucking about that go much further than street design. But I can’t help but wonder if the streets play a significant part in why I only see the neighborhood kids congregate on the porch before going inside.  

Even for myself, the streets in my current neighborhood don't feel safe. It’s a bigger town than I grew up in, yes, so there is more of a chance that a car will drive by. However, I’m not convinced that’s the reason these streets feel unsafe when I walk across them. I’m in a pretty quiet neighborhood on the edge of downtown and cars hardly ever drive by where I live. But when they do, it’s much faster than 15 mph. 

The streets in this residential area are quite wide. They’re wide enough for cars to park on the side and two other cars to pass by each other with some good wiggle room between. Honestly, It’s great for those cars. The drivers don’t have to think at all about hitting another vehicle—there’s plenty of space. They’ll always have a quick and easy shot down the road to their destination. And when I’m driving, myself, I find it very easy to speed through without even realizing it.

Strong Towns Founder Chuck Marohn says in his book, Confessions of a Recovering Engineer: “For streets, where we need complexity in order to build a productive place, traffic needs to flow at a neighborhood speed (15 mph or less is optimum) to make human habitat that is safe and productive. To achieve this on a street, the street design needs to shift drivers from the passive awareness of System 1 to the mental state of heightened engagement found in system 2.”

These systems refer to functions of the human mind as described by Daniel Kahneman in his book Thinking, Fast and Slow. System 1 is an automatic, fast reaction system. We don’t have to pause to come up with a solution in System 1, we simply just know it (like 2+2=?). In System 2, we engage a much more complex side of the mind which calls for more focus and mental effort.

A street will naturally be safe if it is designed for drivers to activate the System 2 of their mind. The streets in my childhood neighborhood accomplished this with narrow lanes and some street trees. 

“People generally do not speed because they are deviants,” Chuck writes. “They speed because driving is a passive activity, one that almost never requires the driver actively to concentrate or be mentally engaged to perform.”

The first sign of a safe street is when you see children thriving in an environment that adults also find comfortable. Drivers will be careful when the design of the street tells them to be that way, and once that feat is accomplished, people and cars have the chance of living in harmony together.