The Inherent Selfishness of Driving a Car

Growing up in Texas, I heard 'my car' a lot. Often said together, as if it was one word. People loved driving "my car". Going for long rides, in "my car". You get the idea.

Fast forward to living for 7 years in a city with fantastic infrastructure for transportation and bike riding: Mainz. There, I barely drove "my car" (very gladly giving up the long drives in favor of being driven long distance by a train operator)... returning to the land of "my car" feels starkly different. When I'm in "my car", suddenly only my priorities matter. I'm in a rush, late for school pickup, need to finish listening to this one bit of the podcast, have to get that parking spot. Me, me, I. Having my own vehicle seems to foster this belief that I come first. I can usually count on TWO hands the number of cars that run red lights, in any given 15 minute car ride.

The worst offenders seem the least obvious. I've been cut off repeatedly by little hatchbacks proudly sporting a "Human Rights for all" and "Coexist" stickers more often than giant SUVs (though plenty of those, too). Passed on the right, passed on the left, and honked at immediately upon a light turning green. Somehow, this car culture has created a film of anonymity behind which we can hide from humanity, from being kind to one another. In a way, Uber and Lyft make it worse. We went from "my car" to "my private transportation vehicle" in a flash. So where will that leave the next generation, who are not only less familiar with driving themselves around (and paying attention to the world around them to stay safe), but now less familiar with having to know where they're going?

On the tram and the train, I often saw people offer a seat to someone older who was standing. A mother with kids. Make room for a stroller, even if a little reluctantly. Smile, tolerate, and even play willingly with a stranger's kids. Hey, none of us have to drive, we may as well get along.

Also, since each neighborhood is set up like a mini-village, it is easy to bike or walk to the center of the neighborhood to shop for what you need. I commonly saw elderly people riding bikes or with walking support operating independently to get what they needed, on the same street a mom with a stroller and kids running amok would be, running errands. Turns out we can all actually coexist, we just need a safe, walking-friendly environment in which to do so. And it's not that easy, as many cities in the US are learning, to modify an environment that is NOT walking friendly to be so. Old habits die hard, and all of that.

Now it's not always so rosy - delayed trains and terrible weather put us all in a grouchy mood. But at least we could commiserate together. What is wrong with this system, we'd say, shaking our heads in  frustration. Solidarity in misery creates a community too. And somehow it felt a lot more pleasant than angrily cutting in front of another person, who is probably just as frustrated as you are that traffic stinks, the light is too short, and the roads are terrible.

In a somewhat timely article, I'm reading this with a wry smile. It seems that we are so good at navel-gazing, even our own public radio, that we forget how well set up this type of thing already is. In many places, people won't have to wait until 2050 (or longer if we're in the US, let's be honest), to have the lifestyle so beautifully described here.

I think what I'm saying is, I miss my train. I'd gladly trade in "my cars" and rely, instead of on Uber or other new private means of transportation on the road, some better form of mass transit and truly bike- and walk-friendly living.