Debra Efroymson
Dhaka, 2010
Last night at my sister-in-law's, while Germany pummelled England at the World Cup--either 5-1 or, if you grant England the goal that the referee didn't, 5-2--as soon as it became clear that Germany was done scoring goals and England wasn't going to manage anymore, I fell asleep. My husband woke me when the game ended; I staggered downstairs, climbed into a rickshaw, and sat in a semi-catatonic state until arriving at home.
As I have had ample occasion to do on similar occasions, I reflected on how difficult a situation I would have been in if returning home had necessitated driving. Perhaps I am inflicted with this problem more than is common, but I can't believe I am alone in sometimes being stricken by intense sleepiness, or fits of such distraction that focusing on the road can become an insurmountable challenge, or simply dangerous flightiness. I remember once in high school, driving on a rural road, I suddenly forgot which side of the road people drive on in the US. The possibility that I had gotten it wrong (which I had) was a bit of concern when turning sharp curves into potentially approaching traffic. It was, as you may imagine, a matter of great relief (and not only for me) when I let my driver's license expire back in 1999, after hardly using it for years.
Fortunately during the brief years when I did drive, these tendencies did not get me into any serious trouble or accidents, though I did once fall asleep, probably for about 2 seconds, at the wheel. That was sufficiently terrifying to make me wish that I would never have to drive again. It was also a difficult situation to resolve, as inevitably, on a full stomach with sun pouring in the windows, or late in the evening with headlights shining in the dark, I would either fall asleep or become teary-eyed, which, with glasses, makes it very difficult to see and very unsafe to drive.
While living in a city dominated by cars where there were essentially no other options available, it was a matter of continual anxiety whether I could stay awake and focused long enough to arrive safely at my destination. When living in cities where I could easily get around by a combination of walking, cycling and public transit, there was absolutely no reason to drive. Gone the expense, the hassle of finding parking spaces, but also the worry of how to get about when too sleepy or distracted to drive.
The more I reflect on it, the more absurd it seems that one should not only offer driving as an option, but make it the expected standard for mobility. Not only does one exclude narcoleptics and those with serious cases of attention deficit disorder, but also (more seriously speaking) children, many of the elderly, and various people who for a number of reasons cannot afford a car or cannot drive.
But the real problem is that one doesn't exclude all those who can't drive safely, for the very reason that it is impossible to do so. You can ban those under a certain age from driving, and you can make certain behaviours illegal, like driving while drunk or while talking on a mobile phone?but you can't prevent those behaviours, nor can you legally or otherwise address the problem of people who are too sleepy, distracted, angry or aggressive to drive safely. After all, even the best driver can, for any number of reasons, be involved in a serious road crash?because the problem is not with the driver but with the machine. Just as it is ridiculous to claim that smoking kills but cigarettes are safe, so it is absurd to blame the problem on the driver while maintaining that the vehicles are not the real issue.
Who wants the responsibility of manoeuvring one or more tons of steel on busy city streets shared by those on foot and bicycle? Of wondering if a child might run into the street chasing her ball, or a cat or dog be crushed under your wheels, causing devastation to those losing their precious child or pet? I can do a certain amount of harm to myself on foot or on a bicycle, and very little on public transit; it is a great relief to move about knowing that I am in no danger of killing anyone due to my sleepiness, thoughtlessness, carelessness, or simply bad luck.
What is more disturbing is the fact that I have to be in a sufficient state of mental alertness, when on foot or bicycle, to get around the streets because of all the cars. Once while happily cycling in Vientiane, the sleepy capital of the nearly uninhabited country of Lao PDR, I became quite tired, and as a result developed a strange and intense feeling of unconcern about the car traffic around me. It seemed quite likely, in this happily and drug-free narcotic state, that I would drift in front of a car.
Fortunately it was Vientiane, where the drivers, if not very careful, are extraordinarily polite. Crossing streets here in Dhaka, I can make no such assumptions; a momentary loss of concentration could cost my life.
And that's just plain wrong. No traffic system should be premised on the assumption that everything always goes right, that everybody is careful, alert, attentive; that nobody talks on their mobile phone, or is distracted, or angry, or half-asleep. That everyone can drive safely on ice and snow and in pouring rain, that nobody becomes aggressive, and that everyone's reaction time is so good that if something does happen, they can brake before slamming into that child, or cyclist, or pet.
"Narcoleptics of the world, unite!" may not be the greatest slogan to attract people to working towards carfree cities. But surely we could, ahem, wake people up to the real meaning of those 1.2 million deaths that occur each year on our roads. That the true safety problem is not, whimsically though I've presented it here, those who cannot stay awake, or stay focused, or avoid alcohol or road rage or aggression or any of the other factors that make driving particularly dangerous. That the lack of safety in driving is due to the very nature of cars and people: that there is no way to design a car-based transport system that is safe, because manipulating all that steel on wheels, with the ability to go so fast, will inevitably, no matter how good the roads and the traffic systems and how high the police presence, mean colossal amounts of injury and death. That if we wish to design safer cities, we have to get rid of the cars. That we need to accept that people are far from perfect, and give them plenty of margin for error in their behaviour and movements so that a momentary lapse of attention can no longer easily result in tragedy.
I, for one, look greatly forward to the day when "road crash" involves nothing more serious than stumbling sleepily into another pedestrian, or (as I have been known to do) hitting a pothole at speed on my bicycle because I was busy staring at something fascinating happening on the sidewalk.
People like me may be easy to make fun of?..but do you really want us behind the wheel of a car?