by Sarah Saltz
A few months ago my neighbor was fatally hit by a drunk driver two blocks from my house. The driver sped through a red light, killing her instantly in the crosswalk at an intersection I cross multiple times a day. She and I were both 31 years old. Now, months later, when the memorial of wilted flowers is gone and the rebuilt outdoor dining shed’s wood is no longer new and raw, this intersection still gives me the chills. I work in transportation and think about streets professionally, and this completely preventable crash is a brutal reminder of what can happen if we fail to bring the right people into the conversation around our streets.
A few days after the crash at the memorial walk and protest, local elected officials, some who have been advocating for safer streets for over 40 years, spoke about their continued fight inside the system. Like them, I was drawn to transportation out of a passion for driving change and making cities better for people and the planet. I switched careers around four years ago, making a professional commitment to increasing mobility, access, and transportation choices, particularly for women and those who are already underserved by the system. Their words underscored how tough, frustrating, and deeply personal this work often is, and the passion and commitment it often requires.
Allow me to generalize about how I can see us, in the industry, failing. I see two groups that are pretty isolated and don’t often interact or come to the same table. On one hand, the urbanists and mobility or technology enthusiasts struggle to understand or relate to the “nonbelievers”. Facing the pressing issues of climate change and preventable deaths on our streets, this camp struggles with patience and are just about ready to fly off into the subset in their autonomous drones. I believe this camp encompasses both those who are interested in cool new technology and a more civic-minded group, who bring passion and excitement around using innovative technology to solve problems in our communities and cities.
On the other hand, there are others who are largely absent from conversations around climate change, mode shift, and safe streets and do not hear or heed calls to action. For some, this perspective may be driven by motornormativity, or the “cultural inability to think objectively and dispassionately about how we use cars”. For others, the topic has become mired in identity politics and privilege rather than sound public policy and data-driven outcomes.
It wont surprise you that I fall somewhere in the first camp and have been known to get caught up in shiny new ideas and technology. Sometimes so much so that we lose sight of the basics: cars are getting bigger and more dangerous in cities, we are living in a climate emergency. While not inherently nefarious, left unchecked, this deep enthusiasm and the trailblazing ideas and technologies of “the next new thing” risks neglecting the realities of how this second camp views issues such as mode shift, and safe streets and drive us innovate so quickly that we leave them behind. When we need them the most, we risk unintentionally alienating them.
The problem is that bringing more people in requires us to slow down, take more time, and bring new people in. But we don’t have more time. How do we untangle the identity politics and divisiveness around biking, public space, and car use from the public policy required to mitigate the climate emergency and stop preventable deaths on our city streets?
As the saying goes, “the more things change, the more things stay the same.” In August, summer in my neighborhood was filled with farmers markets, a flurry of congestion pricing meetings, and summer streets. Cityfi reported on hydrogen fueling stations, infrastructure “boot camps,” autonomous trucks, and nuclear-powered rocket ships. And on the very same block where my neighbor was killed, a speeding car ran a red light, killing an 18 year old woman.
To solve these persistent, “wicked” problems, we must bring in new people. To do that, we need new ways of engaging and communicating and can’t rely on what we’ve done before. Not everything, but a lot of what we do — the conferences we attend, the technology we test, our articles and projects — are driven by our own interests, rather than what will most directly solve the problem or get different people to the table. We need go back to the basics and figure out how to talk and listen across the two camps. This probably means we need to start talking about cars more.
Over the coming months, I will continue reflecting on this paradox of progress when well-intentioned passion leads to alienation, and what we can do about it. Let us know what you think and if you agree or disagree. We especially want to hear from you if you sit somewhere in the middle and have ideas for how to bridge the gap.
