Too Short for a Blog Post, Too Long for a Tweet 278

 

 Here are a few excerpts from a book I recently read, "Traffic: Why We Drive the Way We Do (and What It Says About Us)," by Tom Vanderbilt.

 

Now, like then, we think of traffic as an abstraction, a grouping of things rather than a collection of individuals. We talk about "beating the traffic" or "getting stuck in traffic," but we never talk-in polite company, at least-about "beating people" or "getting stuck in people." The news lumps together "traffic and weather" as if they were both passive forces largely outside our control, even though whenever we complain about it, we do so because we're part of the traffic.



We have already seen how engineers’ models are unable to fully anticipate how humans will act on “safer” roads, and it is no different for congestion. It makes sense, mathematically, that if a city takes out a road in its traffic network, traffic on other streets will have to rise to make up for the lost capacity. If you removed one pipe in a plumbing system, the other pipes would have to pick up the slack. But people are a lot more complex than water, and the models fail to capture this complexity. The traffic may rise, as engineers predict, but that in itself may discourage drivers from entering a more difficult traffic stream.

Or it may not. Los Angeles currently operates with a freeway system largely built in the 1950s and 1960s. Its engineers never imagined the levels of traffic the city now sees. As John Fisher, head of the city’s DOT, put it, “They say, ‘If you build it, they will come.’ Because we didn’t build it doesn’t mean the people stopped coming. Freeways weren’t built, but the traffic is still coming anyway. There’s more and more traffic. The bottom line is that the L.A. area is going to be a magnet whether we build freeways or not. People are still going to want to come here.”

This raises the question of how much more successful a city Los Angeles could be if it had built all the freeways it never did, if one could magically whisk from downtown to Santa Monica in a few minutes. Then again, how desirable would a place like Beverly Hills be if the freeway that had been planned for it, to “cure” L.A. traffic, was now running through it? Wouldn’t the increased speed just attract even more people? Is traffic failing Los Angeles, or is it a symptom of a thriving Los Angeles? Brian Taylor, the planner at UCLA, argues that people often focus single-mindedly on congestion itself as an evil, which, leaving aside for a moment the vast, negative environmental impacts, misses the point: What great city has not been crowded? “If your firm needs access to post-production film editors or satellite-guidance engineers,” Taylor notes, “you will reach them more quickly via the crowded freeways of L.A. than via less crowded roads elsewhere.” Density, economists have argued, boosts productivity. Traffic engineers like to use the example of an empty restaurant versus a crowded restaurant: Wouldn’t you rather eat at the crowded one, even if it means waiting in line?



The most striking feature of Delhi traffic is the occasional presence of a cow or two, often languidly in the median strip, feet away from the traffic. The medians, it is said, provide a resting place that is not only dry but kept free from pesky flies by the buffeting winds of passing cars. I posed the question of cows to Maxwell Pereira, Delhi’s former top traffic cop who has of late been playing the Colonel Pinto character on Indian Sesame Street.  “Let me correct a little misperception,” he told me as we sat in his office in the Gurgaon district. “The presence of a cow in a congested urban area is no hazard. Much as I don’t like the presence of a cow on the road when I am advocating smoother traffic and convenience, the presence of a cow also forces a person to slow down. The overall impact is to reduce the tendency to overspeed and to rashly and negligently drive.”  Cows, in effect, act as the “mental speed bumps” that Australian traffic activist David Engwicht described. They provide “intrigue and uncertainty”, as Engwicht put it, and the average Delhi driver would certainly rather be late for work than hit a cow.