When it comes to bike lanes, if you build it, they will shift

bike to work day
bike to work day

Cleveland area commuters congregate downtown for Bike to Work Day on May 20 (courtesy of Bike Cleveland).

When it comes to mobile emissions, not all bike rides are created equal.

The cyclist who drives her bike into downtown to take part in Critical Mass or rides along the Towpath on a Saturday afternoon does not actually eliminate vehicle miles traveled (VMT) or reduce greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions to any extent. (This is why the National Bike Challenge’s methodology tends to irk me).

None of this is to say that these rides are somehow inferior or less than those taken for transportation; they’re not. Recreational riding is good for public health, enjoyable, and it increases the number and visibility of cyclists on roads. But it is somewhat disingenuous to claim they improve air quality or mitigate climate change.

How do we calculate the emissions savings from bike projects?

Now, we already know that shifting people from cars to bikes can go a long way towards promoting these ends. The problem is that we lack good tools to let us demonstrate this on the small scale. How do we prove, definitively, that investing in a particular piece of bike infrastructure gets people to change their travel mode? And how can we calculate the associated emissions reductions?

In some ways, recreational cycling may make this process more difficult. Traditional methods, like bike counts, don’t distinguish between those who are riding for recreation and those who are riding for transportation. Knowing the difference between the two and being able to isolate that segment of the latter who would have otherwise driven is essential for cycling advocates. We need to be able to quantify the demonstrable benefits of bike infrastructure in order to get funding for projects under certain programs, particularly the Congestion Mitigation and Air Quality (CMAQ) Improvement program.

In part because we struggle to get accurate data, bike infrastructure projects remain a small sliver of overall CMAQ projects. The Federal Highway Administration (FHWA) estimates, for instance, that CMAQ needs to invest $3.5 million in bike projects to reduce one ton of fine particulate matter (PM2.5), compared to just $38,000 for diesel vehicle retrofits and $76,000 for idle reduction programs. Perhaps the cost-benefit ratio for bike projects would improve if we had better data on how bike infrastructure directly affects mode choice.

New research may provide an answer

Fortunately, researchers are beginning to develop better tools to do just this. In a new study (paywall) in the journal Transportation Research Part A, researchers Seyed Amir H. Zahabi, Annie Chang, Luis F. Miranda-Moreno, and Zachary Patterson explore how the built environment and accessibility to bike infrastructure affects mode choice and GHG emissions among commuters in Montreal.

In the study, the authors broke Montreal down into a series of 500-square meter neighborhoods based on population density, employment density, cycling network density, transit accessibility, and land use mix. It defined neighborhoods using one of five typologies: downtown, urban, urban-suburb, inner suburb, and outer suburb.

Using this approach, they sought to answer two main questions. First, what are the effects of the built environment and the network connectivity of the transportation system on cycling rates during the period in question (1998-2008)? Second, how did cycling rates and the associated GHG emissions change over this period?

In order to study the first question, they estimated the effects of the neighborhood typologies on cycling rates. However, this isn’t as straightforward as it may seem. One cannot directly estimate this effect on mode choice, as people often self-select into certain types of neighborhoods that fit their preferred mode. For example, I consciously looked for apartments in certain parts of Washington, DC so that I could be within a short walk of a Red Line station. The same holds for cyclists, who may choose to live in more bike-friendly areas.

When your independent variable (in this case, neighborhood type) is not completely independent from your dependent variable (commute mode choice), we say they are endogenous. The researchers employed a statistical approach, known as a simultaneous equation model, which allows them to control for this endogeneity.

Drawing the link between bike lanes and GHG reductions

To study their second research question, they utilized a variable that allowed them to measure the distance a person lives from the nearest bike path or lane. This enabled them to consider how increasing or decreasing that distance may affect commute mode choice and GHG emissions.

It’s this second question that I want to focus on, as it gets to the heart of the issue I raised earlier. Fortunately, the authors provide some concrete evidence that investing in bike infrastructure does foster mode shift. When it comes to bike lanes, if you build it, people really do come.

Based on their results, they found that reducing the distance that a person lives from the nearest bike facility increase the odds that s/he will bike to work by 3.7%. In Montreal, the city expanded its bike network to 648 kilometers (402.6 miles) in 2014, from 603 km (374.7 miles) in 2008. The expansion directly led to a 1.7% decrease in vehicle GHG emissions within the city.

This reduction stacks up well with alternative emissions control options. As the authors conclude,

As in other studies, it is found that cycling infrastructure accessibility is positively linked to bicycle usage, playing a positive role in reducing transportation GHG emissions, by shifting the mode share of bikes. Although this effect may appear small (about 1.7%), it is as big as the estimates we have found in our previous research when converting all the transit diesel buses to hybrid technology and electrifying the commuter trains in Montreal at the same time. This is to say that the GHG benefit from adding low-cost new cycling infrastructure can be as important as other more costly strategies.

Hopefully this type of research can provide further, tangible justification for incorporating bike infrastructure in the urban toolkit to tackle climate change. We need to build real (preferably protected) bike lanes in order both to increase the number of people biking regularly and broaden the type of people biking from hardcore recreational cyclists to normal people using bikes as a transportation mode. Because, while recreational biking is great, only transportation biking can help us solve these pressing crises

Asking some lingering questions about cutting service on the Waterfront Line

GCRTA's Waterfront line (courtesy of htabor).

GCRTA’s Waterfront Line (courtesy of htabor).

After months of an extended and often contentious debate, the GCRTA Board of Trustees finally voted on a series of measures to help the agency balance its budget for the next year. Surprising no one, Board members approved a series of stepwise fare increases that will take effect on August 16, which should increase annual operating revenues by $3.5 million. Single-ride fares will increase to $2.50 from $2.25 currently and, ultimately, rise again to $2.75 in August 2018. All day passes will increase from $5 to $5.50 and ultimately $6, while monthly passes will jump from $85 to $95 and then $105.

For the sake of comparison, WMATA, the Washington, DC area transit operator, charges $1.75 for bus fares and off-peak rail fares; the base fare for on-peak rail users is $2.25. MTA, the transit operator in New York, in turn, charges $2.75 for a single trip and $116.50 for a monthly pass. In other words, Cleveland’s fares are now on par with, or even higher than, some of the most extensive transit systems in the country.

But, as we know, the fare increases alone were not enough to cover the $7 million hole in GCRTA’s budget. Staff also proposed a series of service reductions that would have cut bus service hours and miles by approximately 4%. Courageously, the Board decided to punt on this issue and make GCRTA’s management responsible for approving the service cuts. These cuts, which have been scaled back since the initial proposal, will save the agency less month ($3 million vs. $4 million) but affect fewer customers (1% vs. 1.8%).

One of the more hotly debated portions of this list of service reductions involves GCRTA’s Waterfront rail line, which ferries customers from the Tower City transit hub along the Cuyahoga River and lakefront to the South Harbor. The Waterfront Line, which opened to much fanfare during Cleveland’s 1996 bicentennial celebration, cost GCRTA roughly $50 million to construct. But ridership soon fell off a cliff, as the city continued to shrink and the Flats entered a prolonged period of decline.

The agency reduced service on the Waterfront Line in 2010, but it subsequently restored it in 2013 to account for new investments on the East Bank of the Flats. While ridership may have increased somewhat since that point – we don’t really know – the line has rightfully earned its name as the “Ghost Train.” Fewer than 400 people ride the train on weekdays, and nearly all of those people take it during rush hours. During off-peak times, GCRTA says 2 people ride each train, on average.

Personally, I have long questioned the utility of the line. I think I have used it maybe 2 or 3 times in my life. If I am traveling to the Flats or the lakefront, I would much rather walk or hop on a trolley, but I freely acknowledge I’m abnormal.

That said, I do know people who ride the train and see its utility. I also recognize that there is no other transit serving the Flats, and it can be pretty daunting to try and walk up the hill from West 10th to West 9th, particularly if you are of limited mobility.

Moreover, I might be pissed off if I was one of the people investing in the redevelopment of the Flats. Investors and developers thought they had reached an agreement with GCRTA to ensure the Waterfront Line would serve this area. Adam Fishman, the Board Chair of Flats Forward, offered an eloquent articulation of this viewpoint in an op-ed over the weekend. As he wrote,

In 2015, RTA increased services to the Waterfront Line and saw an uptick in riders after the opening of Flats East Bank.

Now, RTA’s proposal is to reduce weekday service, to end at approximately 7 p.m. — but limiting service to these new entertainment venues during evening hours when downtown residents are looking to explore dining options is a misstep. Limiting transit service to this area will greatly hurt the potential for growth and will prevent the Flats East Bank from becoming part of the uninterrupted fabric of downtown in the minds of those who live, work and play here.

To an extent, he’s right! But we also need to recognize the fact that GCRTA has to balance its budget, and, in the process, it needs to guarantee that the pain is spread evenly. If the agency tried to dump all of the service cuts on low-income communities of color on the East Side, it may have run afoul of federal environmental justice and Title VI guidelines and would almost certainly have facee a lawsuit.

Yes, fixed rail investments can – and should – promote development. But sometimes when you build it, they don’t come. GCRTA dumped millions of dollars into the Waterfront Line for 20 years, with little to show for it. Flats developers can’t simply demand cuts for thee but not for me.

With all of that in mind, I still have some lingering questions that I wish had been asked during this debate. I think getting this information would have given all of us a clearer picture of the real value of the Waterfront Line, relative to the various bus routes that faced service reductions.

  1. We should recognize that, while the Flats is turning into something of a playground for wealthy white people, there are a lot of service sector employees who need to work in these establishments. What percentage of these service industry workers in the Flats and along North Coast Harbor rely on/use public transit? How does it compare to other lines that were cut or faced cuts?
  2. Will reducing service frequency on the Waterfront Line (and the Green line) have any effect on the lifespan of the aging Breda LRV cars? Could it reduce wear and tear on these trains to any noticeable extent?
  3. If the employers in the Flats are so concerned about protecting rail service, are they willing to pitch in? I’ve seen various estimates on how much GCRTA would save from cutting Waterfront Line service, varying from $200,000-500,000. The Flats East Bank development represents some $750 million in investments. Some of the entities involved, including Ernst & Young, are worth billions. Could they not come together to help defray or cover the costs of retaining service? Consider the fact that the Cleveland Foundation gave GCRTA $100,000 to provide free trips back in January 2014. And University Hospitals just signed on as the sponsor of Cleveland’s bikeshare system. There is a precedent here.
  4. What steps have Flats employers taken in the past to promote public transit usage among their patrons and employees? What about to promote public transit funding and support among the general public? Do they participate in RTA’s Commuter Advantage program? Do they subsidize transit passes? Seeing them actually stick their necks out for transit would mean a lot more, particularly in light of the sea of surface parking lots that they’ve constructed in the area.

Answering these lingering questions would not have mollified both sides, but it may have given us the information we needed to make a more informed opinion.

[Insert obligatory line blaming the State of Ohio for not funding transit.]

How America’s anti-urban bias distorts infrastructure spending

portsmouth bypass construction
portsmouth bypass construction

Crews prepare embankments for the Portsmouth Bypass project (courtesy of Midwest Energy News).

The relative struggle for power between urban and rural areas is a defining feature of the American political system, one that dates back to the founding of the country. In the immediate aftermath of the Revolution, the two dominant political theories were the urban republicanism of Alexander Hamilton and the agrarian democracy of Thomas Jefferson.

Hamilton’s ideas and biography are en vogue again, but the Jeffersonian push for agrarian power was enshrined in the Constitution. During the Constitutional Convention, small states successfully imposed the Connecticut Compromise, which created a bicameral legislature that included an upper house where every state would have equal standing. Thanks to this compromise, Wyoming – a state with 586,000 people – has the same power in the Senate as California – a state with five cities larger than 500,000 people.

Legislative proportionment and Baker v. Carr

Although rural areas unquestionably have disproportionate power on the federal level, it’s even starker at the state level. For a variety of reasons, rural voters tend to hold sway in state legislatures. One driver behind this outcome is gerrymandering, as typically Republican-dominated statehouses can draw districts in such a way as to enhance the relative power of rural and suburban residents.

The situation was actually worse prior to 1962. In that year, the Supreme Court issued its decision in Baker v. Carr, ruling that states need to continually update their legislative districts based on decadal Census data. This ruling effectively enshrined the principle of “one person, one vote,” which helped to somewhat level the playing field between rural and urban voters. But the situation has not been remedied. As I’ve said before, life is still difficult for blue cities located in red states.

Anti-urban bias in infrastructure spending

Recently I came across a great quote on this issue:

Ohio has practiced a rural and suburban philosophy that ignores big central city problems because those who run the state win their positions by soliciting the solid backing of farmers and small town residents.

I think this sentence encapsulates the current relationship between Cleveland and the State of Ohio quite well. Except it’s not a contemporary quote. This is actually from a speech (start at 17:00 mark) that former Mayor Carl Stokes delivered at the City Club of Cleveland on July 24, 1970.

Stokes spoke at a time when the State of Ohio showed no inclination to support the City of Cleveland. One year before the Cuyahoga River infamously caught on fire (for the 13th time) in June 1969, Cleveland residents passed a $100 million bond issue to upgrade the city’s water and wastewater infrastructure. The bond issue was necessary, because – six years after Baker – the State of Ohio refused to finance the improvements.

This imbalance remains today. Ohio actually spends more state money on its rural transit program than its urban program, despite the fact that 78% of Ohioans live in urban areas.

ohio transit funding 2000-2014

Transit funding, by program, from the Ohio Department of Transportation from 2000-2014 (courtesy of ODOT).

The bias towards rural areas also remains when examining spending on social issues at the state level. How many red states refused to expand Medicaid under the Affordable Care Act, for instance? Here in Ohio, while Governor John Kasich loved to brag on the campaign trail how he did expand Medicaid, he never seemed to mention how he only expanded food stamp allocations for rural areas, not cities.

But it’s possible to alter these types of social spending decisions in the short term. Governors and legislatures can pull the policy levers to increase welfare or education financing much more readily than they can build a new transit line in cities.

So what is it about infrastructure that makes it harder to influence, over the short-term, than social spending? What accounts for this inertia?

The ‘persistence of highways’

In a recent working paper (PDF), Stanford political science professor Clayton Nall and PhD candidates Simon Ejdemyr and Zachary O’Keeffe examine this issue. The study examines how the anti-urban bias in legislative apportionment affected the distribution of public goods before Baker. It also questions to what extent the case remedied this issue. As a proxy for public goods, the study considers the provision of federal-aid highway funding.

The authors identify two key mechanisms that explain the “persistence of highways” and that make highway spending less responsive to political change than social spending.

First, infrastructure clearly carries a sense of permanence. While the food that SNAP benefits help families buy may be gone a day later, a new bridge or highway will be fixed in steel and concrete for decades. Politicians are suckers for groundbreakings and ribbon cutting ceremonies.

Once these structures are built, there is typically tremendous pressure to maintain them. This is true even if the road or bridge outlives its useful life or if the cost of maintaining it outweighs the benefits. Like everyone else, lawmakers are subject to the sunk cost fallacy, which leads us to falsely believe that we need to keep investing time and money into projects or tasks, simply so that we don’t lose the time and money we have already spent.

Secondly, building infrastrastructure creates policy feedback. In other words, the development of the federal highway system gave rise to new interest groups that benefited from their construction. Construction and engineering firms directly benefited by winning state and federal contracts.

New infrastructure also creates what the authors call spatial policy feedback. New highways alter development patterns, facilitating the growth of suburban and exurban areas. In turn, these new suburban populations form powerful interest groups. Their support for and dependence on these highways becomes a self-perpetuating political force.

The unique persistence of highways is an important issue, as the framework for the federal-aid highway system was laid before Baker and was, thus, inherently anti-urban. In the Federal Highway Act of 1944, Congress explicitly barred the use of federal funds to build roads in communities with more than 2,500 residents.

While Congress altered its funding formula in 1956, it allowed rural-dominated state legislatures to influence the allocation of highway funding for decades. According to the authors, “state legislative malapportionment would have compounded already biased federal policies that limited states’ freedom of action to develop their urban areas, while promoting the biases within state legislatures.”

So, did the Baker ruling make a difference?

To examine how anti-urban bias within the political system may have affected the allocation of highway spending, the authors developed two models.

First, they compare each county’s portion of total highway mileage to its share of the state’s population. They then account for each county’s representation within the state legislature using the Relative Representation Index (RRI); a county with more political representation than its population should justify will have a score above 1, and vice versa.

To study the impact of the Baker ruling, they compare results from 1934-1960 to those from 1970-present. Per their results,

We find that legislative representation had approximately the same effect on a county’s share of state highway construction, regardless of region and urbanism. Second, and more importantly, we find that pre-Baker malapportionment had a persistently significant effect on highway-mileage bias in the decades after Baker. We find that representation mattered, but that it was the timing of the representation—prior to the construction of most of the American highway network—that dictated the distribution of highway infrastructure for decades to come.

According to this model, from 1934-1960, a one standard deviation increase in a county’s RRI score increased its share of highway-mileage spending by 0.3 standard deviations. While this number has been halved since the Baker ruling, the effect remains.

Second, the researchers compared the relative impact of Baker on both highway and social spending from 1972-20002; to measure the latter, they used state spending on public welfare and education. In this model, counties with higher RRI scores continued to see higher levels of state highway funding after Baker, even as they received less funding for welfare and education.

The implications of this study are significant. We live in an era of budget cuts and austerity. But, in a lot of ways, this crisis is political. The Ohio legislature could not be bothered to allocate even $1 million more for public transit, even as the largest transit system in state, GCRTA, muddles through a $7 million budget deficit.

Yet, while Cleveland residents brace themselves for fare increases and service cuts, Ohio has no qualms about spending $1.2 billion on the Portsmouth Bypass, which serves no purpose other than to let drivers avoid a few traffic lights.

As Ejdemyr, Nall & O’Keeffe conclude,

The current plight of American infrastructure – widely described as a “national infrastructure deficit” – is not a universal phenomenon but represents a long-term legacy of legislative malapportionment and decisions about infrastructure made before cities had equal representation in state legislatures. The poor state of American infrastructure is not merely a result of overall underinvestment, but stems from a historical legacy of unequal treatment that left some areas (notably cities) with a host of social and economic problems, including underfunded road infrastructure.

In an era in which people seem to be rediscovering the value of our center cities, we cannot afford to keep recreating the mistakes of our predecessors. Remedying the anti-urban bias in infrastructure spending will not happen overnight, but it’s well past time that we start.

Throwback Thursday: Cleveland held its first bike parade 100 years ago

cleveland bike parade
cleveland bike parade

Cleveland’s first Critical Mass-type event was held 100 years ago tomorrow (courtesy of the Cleveland Office of Sustainability)

May is an important time for cycling, as it is National Bike Month.

Throughout the course of the month, there are a number of celebrations and events. Sunday, May 1 marked the annual kick-off of the National Bike Challenge. Yesterday was Bike to School Day. Friday, May 20 is Bike to Work Day. And, as I already told you, this week is Air Quality Awareness Week, in which we are encouraging people to try biking in order to improve local air quality.

Well, it just so happens that 100 years ago this week, the City of Cleveland also helds its first proto-Critical Mass event. The City Division of Recreation organized a massive “bike parade” to the historic League Park on the city’s east side. The event reported involved more than 700 people, which is about the size of our contemporary, monthly Critical Mass rides.

Anyways, I just thought this was a cool little piece of trivia for what the youths call “Throwback Thursday.”

Why we should account for air quality when planning bike lanes

critical mass
A rendering of the proposed Cleveland Midway, a network of protected cycle tracks that would run across the city (courtesy of Bike Cleveland).

A rendering of the proposed Cleveland Midway, a network of protected cycle tracks that would run across the city (courtesy of Bike Cleveland).

In a lot of ways, cyclists get a raw deal. We ride a 25-pound machine on the same roads as people driving 2,000-pound steel boxes at high rates of speed. We struggle to carve out a small piece of the road, even as we get buzzed by passing cars or get screamed at by furious drivers who could kill us at a moment’s notice. There’s no such thing as a fair fight between a bike and a car. If I get into a head on collision with a careless driver, I lose.

Transportation people define cyclists (along with pedestrians, children, the elderly, and the disabled) as “vulnerable road users.” We are the ones most at risk of getting injured, or worse, in a collision.

For the most part, cycling and transportation safety activists have worked to try and bridge the yawning gap in safety between drivers and vulnerable users. So we push to implement road diets, to install bike lanes, to lower speed limits, to educate drivers and cyclists alike about road etiquette. And we do all of this, rightly so, in the name of safety.

The positives – and negatives – of cycling

Part of the impetus behind the push for improving bike infrastructure is the myriad benefits associated with active transportation, which I laid out in detail in my last post.

We all know the advantages of expanding cycling. It reduces wear and tear on roads. It improves safety for all road users. It helps promote vibrant neighborhoods and may increase retail sales. It can fight obesity and enhance public health. And it reduces local air pollution and helps tackle climate change.

But there’s two sides to every coin. We know that individual cyclists take a real risk each time they venture onto the road, even as the rise in cycling enhances safety for all. Could this same dilemma be true for air pollution and public health? The evidence seems to say yes.

Cyclists and exposure to air pollution

On the one hand, cyclists help to improve both local and regional air quality, full stop. Bikes are emissions free and every mile spent cycling rather than driving keeps roughly one pound of carbon dioxide (CO2) out of the atmosphere. The more people who move out of cars and onto bikes, the more we can mitigate transportation-related air pollution (TRAP) and reduce everyone’s exposure to its harmful effects.

it's a trap

Admiral Ackbar hates air pollution.

Yet, on the other hand, not every road user is exposed equally to TRAP. The specific characteristics of a vehicle can dramatically affect the levels of pollution that people riding in or on it can experience. We know, for example, that pollutants can concentrate inside of school buses, ensuring that children on board may be exposed to much higher levels of particulate matter and air toxics than they would otherwise. The same is true for heavy-duty truck drivers.

When it comes to drivers, however, that 2,000-pound steel box puts you at a significant advantage. Unlike cyclists, who have no air exchange buffer, drivers can roll up their windows and turn on recirculated air, lessening their personal exposure to TRAP, even as they produce it.

Multiple studies back this up. In a recent paper (paywall), Carlos Ramos, Humbert Wolterbeek, and Susana Almeida compared the exposure of cyclists and drivers to various air pollutants, using samples from Lisbon, Portugal. Though the authors found that drivers actually inhale five time as much carbon monoxide (CO) and more than twice as much CO2 as cyclists, respectively, the same was not true for other, more harmful pollutants. Cyclists were exposed to 30% higher concentrations particle pollution and ground-level ozone, on average.

As Ramos, Wolterbeek, and Almeida note, drivers tend to face higher concentrations of primary pollutants, like CO, because they remain in direct proximity to the pollutant source. Cyclists, in contrast, are able to limit their exposure to primary pollutants, but they breathe in much higher levels of secondary pollutants (ozone, PM2.5).

Exposure to pollution isn’t the whole story

It would be really consider convenient to end the discussion here and wash our hands of this whole issue. Drivers are exposed to higher levels of one type of pollution, while cyclists face higher levels of another.

But, like most things, this isn’t as simple as it can seem on the surface. The health effects of air pollution isn’t simply a product of pollution levels. Rather, it’s a function of concentration, length of exposure, extant health status (e.g. is the person elderly or asthmatic), respiratory rate, and inhalation route (nose or mouth).

When you account for these factors, the deck becomes decisively stacked against cyclists. Because cyclists spend more time on the road (due to their slower speeds) and breathe more heavily, they inhale higher levels of pollution in nearly every instance.

How cyclists can reduce their exposure to pollution

Now, there are steps that cyclists can take, at least in theory, to reduce their exposure to TRAP. Much like a cyclist can reduce his/her chances of being hit by using off-street paths or side streets, s/he can alter the amount of pollution inhaled by changing routes.

A group of scientists, headed up by Nathan Good from Colorado State University, explored this issue in a study published last fall. They selected a group of 8 commuters (4 bike, 4 car) in Fort Collins and equipped each of them with portable air monitors to document their levels of exposure along their daily commutes.

They found that, on average, cyclists were exposed to 18% more black carbon (a particular harmful component of TRAP) and 25% more PM2.5. Because cyclists spent more time commuting, the actually inhaled 92% more black carbon and 96% more PM2.5.

But Good et al. also found that cyclists could reduce these numbers by shifting to alternate, lower trafficked routes. Cyclists who used these roads less traveled actually took nearly one-quarter less black carbon.

critical mass

Cleveland Critical Mass in July 2015 as seen from my bike.

That said, there are some real issue with this study’s implications. Some people (including me) don’t have a viable, less trafficked route we can follow to work. Additionally, this approach shifts the responsibility for avoiding pollution intake from the public sector (policy makers, urban planners) to the individual cyclist. That’s a crappy way of doing things.

Including air pollution when planning bike lanes

Fortunately, additional research provides at least a partial answer.

In a 2014 study, Piers MacNaughton and colleagues looked at (paywall) how different types of bike routes affected TRAP intake among cyclists in Boston. They compared pollution levels along bike paths (those separated from vehicular traffic) and on-road bike lanes.

Unsurprisingly, the authors found that cyclists experienced significantly lower levels of air pollution while using off-road bike paths. But set that aside for now.

The important findings of this study are related to particular components of bike infrastructure. MacNaughton et al. found that two bike lane variables – vegetative cover and the number of intersections – significantly affect TRAP intake among cyclists.

Reducing the number of intersections a cyclist has to cross not only cuts his/her travel time, it also limits the number of idling vehicles s/he will face. And increasing the amount of vegetation between cars and cyclists can help slash pollution levels, as plants filter out a variety of air pollutants. According to the authors, a one unit increase in vegetative cover lowers black carbon and nitrogen dioxide levels by 3.4% and 11.6%, respectively.

As the authors conclude,

Cyclists can reduce their exposure to TRAP during their commute by using bike paths preferentially over bike lanes regardless of the potential increase of traffic along these routes. Based on these results and the relevant cyclist safety literature, urban planners should push for the development of bike paths instead of bike lanes whenever possible and should design bike paths with vegetation between the cyclists and the vehicle traffic.

Redefining the “vulnerable” in vulnerable road users

With all this in mind, the concept of “vulnerable road users” takes on a new meaning. Cyclists are not only at a greater risk of being injured or killed in a collision, we are also at a heightened risk of suffering the ill effects of TRAP.

Planners must start taking this into account. Bike infrastructure that may make sense from a safety standpoint may not hold up when we account for air pollution. And don’t get me started on vehicular cycling advocates. Cleveland’s decision to design bike lanes that buffer the curb already made no sense from a safety perspective. When you add air quality to the equation…?

Other projects seem to make more sense, in contrast. Both the Midway and the Eastside Greenway place vegetative buffers between cyclists and traffic. This feature provides a double dividend, as they would improve safety and help reduce pollution levels.

Ultimately, it’s time to broaden our horizons on bike infrastructure. Just as we shouldn’t expect indicidual cyclists to bear the risk of being run over to improve road safety, so too shouldn’t we expect cyclists to inhale poison so the rest of us can breathe cleaner air. Let’s start accounting for air pollution exposure and intake when planning bike lanes.

Increasing mode shift is a great tool for improving air quality, public health

bike ferdinand
bike ferdinand

My trusty 2012 Trek FX 7.3, Ferdinand. Yes, like Magellan.

If it’s the first week of May, that can only mean one thing! No, not May Day. No, not Star Wars Day. No, not Cinco de Mayo. No, not Mother’s Day. Look, clearly you’re not going to get this on your own.

That’s right – it’s Air Quality Awareness Week. The U.S. EPA has designated this year’s theme as “Show How You Care About The Air.” EPA and various other government entities that work on air quality, including NOACA, are encouraging people to take a few simple steps throughout the course of the week that can have a positive, tangible impact on air quality.

One of these actions is changing your commute mode. The overwhelming majority of Americans (76.4% in 2013, to be exact) drive alone to work. Here in Northeast Ohio, that number is significantly higher, with values ranging from 79.9% in Cuyahoga County to 87.9% in Lake County. If you total the five counties in the NOACA region, 772,262 of the 938,244 workers over the age of 16 – 82.3% – drive alone to work. Given that transportation accounts for a significant portion of key pollutants in the region – 50% of nitric oxides (NOx) and 15% of fine particulate matter (PM2.5) – reducing the share of single-occupancy vehicles (SOV) on the region’s roads has the potential to improve air quality.

The question becomes by how much. While active transportation undoubtedly holds the potential to cut mobile emissions, some research suggests its immediate impact is somewhat limited. As I’ve shown, increasing overall fuel economy can do more to mitigate climate change than land use planning.

Moreover, research from the Federal Highway Administration (FHWA) shows that bike and pedestrian are not the most cost-effective way to cut emissions. According to the agency’s analysis of projects funded through the Congestion Mitigation and Air Quality Improvement Program (CMAQ), active transportation lowers emissions far less, per dollar spent, than diesel vehicle retrofits, truck stop electrification, or idle reduction projects. This may help to explain why bicycle and pedestrian projects accounted for just 7% of CMAQ funding in FY2013.

Short trips and cold starts

On the aggregate, it’s likely true that, at least in the short-term, retrofitting diesel engines in heavy-duty vehicles or reducing the amount of fuel that truck drivers use overnight may be a more effective way to cut emissions. But personal vehicles account for a much larger share of mobile emissions, and a significant share of these emissions come from short trips.

According to the 2009 National Household Transportation Survey (NHTS), the median distance of a light-duty vehicle trip in the U.S. was just four miles; nearly half of all personal trips (43.4%) were less than 3.2 miles. These short trips account for an outsized share of vehicle emissions due the issue of cold starts.

A cold start occurs when both the car engine and its catalytic converter have cooled to within 10℉ of the ambient air temperature. In order for an engine to operate at peak efficiency, it needs to warm to roughly 140℉. Until it reaches this point, the vehicle will fail to fully combust gasoline, ensuring that it releases emissions at a higher rate.

One recent study (PDF) notes that cold engines can emit four times as many hydrocarbons, three times as much carbon monoxide (CO), and twice as much NOas a warm engine. All told, the authors conclude that excess emissions attributable to cold starts account for 10-30% of total mobile emissions.

The benefits of mode shift on a national scale

Given these facts, it appears that shifting travel mode for short trips could go a long way to improving air quality. Additional research backs up this hypothesis.

In a 2010 article (paywall) in the journal Transportation Research Part D, Audrey de Nazelle and her colleagues examined the benefits of shifting short vehicle trips to active transportation. While their travel data were older (they used the 1995 NHTS), they found that 62.5% of all trips less than 0.5 miles occur in cars. This share that climbs to 87.1% for 0.5 to 1-mile trips, 92.2% for 1- to 2-mile trips, and 94.3% for 2- to 3-mile trips.

The authors examined the effects of shifting 35-70% of short social trips and 15-45% of commutes, respectively, from driving to active transportation. Nationwide, this mode shift would cut daily VOC emissions by 30-70 tons, CO emissions by 400-900 tons, and NOx emissions by 15-35 tons. It would also reduce vehicle miles traveled (VMT) by 0.8-1.8%, cutting greenhouse gas emissions (GHGs) by 20,000-46,000 tons per day. They compared these results to emissions reductions from existing CMAQ projects, finding that promoting widespread mode shift for short trips could lead to emissions reductions that were “orders of magnitude greater.”

How can mode shift improve air quality and public health in Cleveland?

But that study looks at the U.S. as a whole. I often hear people from people that the weather in Northeast Ohio is too harsh, making it impossible to walk or bike for 6-9 months a year. The deck is also stacked heavily towards driving in this region, as our SOV mode share attests. Are national estimates really applicable here? Surely things are different here than in Portland or Austin or San Diego.

Fortunately, a group of researchers from the University of Wisconsin-Madison already considered this issue. In a 2012 study, they analyzed the impact of replacing half of all vehicle trips less than four kilometers (2.4 miles) with biking in the 11 largest metropolitan areas in the Midwest, including Cleveland. And they assumed this mode shift would only occur during cycling season, which they defined as April-October.

The authors estimated that eliminating these short car trips would slash residential vehicle use in these cities by one-fifth. This outcome would reduce the frequency of cold starts from 59.9% to 21.9% in urban Census tracts and from 55.6% to 20.3% in suburban tracts. Across the entire study area, PM2.5 concentrations would fall by 1-2%, while NOx and VOC levels would fall by 5-12% and 10-25, respectively.

Based on their findings,

Eliminating short car trips and replacing 50% of them by bicycle would result in mortality declines of approximately 1,295 deaths per year, including 608 fewer deaths due to improved air quality and 687 fewer deaths due to increased physical activity…We estimate that the combined benefit from improved air quality and physical fitness for the region would exceed $8.7 billion/year, which is equivalent to about 2.5% of the total cost of health care for the five midwestern states in the present study.

Here in Cleveland, PM2.5 values would fall by 0.05 micrograms per cubic meter (µg/m3), preventing 53 premature deaths, 184 asthma attacks, and 1,405 lost workdays per year. The additional physical activity would save another 42 lives per year, increasing the total benefits to $664 million annually.

And these numbers don’t account for the health benefits of increased physical activity. That prevents another 687 premature deaths and provides $3.8 billion in total benefits each year. This mode shift would further reduce GHG emissions by 3.9 billion pounds.

Clearly, the air quality benefits cities can obtain by promoting mode shift for short trips are significant. While mode shift, on its own, cannot bring every city into attainment for air quality standards or halt climate change, it is an important component of a comprehensive approach to both issues. Increasing the mode share of active transportation can produce additional dividends, as it benefits public health, enhances the livability of neighborhoods, improves safety for all road users, and just generally elevates the quality of life in communities around the country.

So show you care about air quality this week and take shorter trips on foot or by bike. Even if the weather isn’t perfect, it will be well worth it.

Cincinnati is using parking revenue to fund transit. Why can’t Cleveland?

cincinnati streetcar
cincinnati streetcar

The Cincinnati Streetcar takes a test run in November 2015 (courtesy of Wikimedia Commons).

In my last post on using parking taxes to fund transit in Cleveland, I exclusively focused on private, off-street parking lots, largely due to space and for the sake of a coherent argument. Unfortunately, this meant that I left out the other side of the equation – how to properly manage public parking lots in response.

One of the potential consequences of increasing private parking fees is to increase the relative demand for public parking lots and on-street parking. While there is a long-standing tradition of having the public sector provide certain services at a lower cost than their private sector counterparts (e.g. electricity), the social costs of ubiquitous, cheap (or free) parking are so substantial as to overwhelm its potential benefits.

Accordingly, the first step towards instituting the parking tax policy I proposed is for the agencies that own and operate public parking lots and meters to raise their prices to market rates. Not only does this mitigate the risk that people will simply move from more expensive private lots to cheaper public lots, it may also increase the odds that commercial parking lot operators will go along with this tax proposal. As Todd Litman of the Victoria Transport Policy Institute wrote (PDF), “Commercial operators tend to be more accepting of a parking tax if governments are already maximizing income from other parking-related revenue sources, such as meters and enforcement of parking regulations.”

Coincidentally, Cincinnati has done just this. As part of a plan to modernize its parking system last year, Cincinnati officials raised rates in the Over-the-Rhine district, extended hours for metered parking (including weekends), and stepped up enforcement. While Cleveland also raised its rates last year, the maximum hourly rate for parking meters is still half of Cincinnati’s ($1 compared to $2), and we do not charge on weekends. (This is where I break from Councilman Zach Reed on transportation policy.)

The other essential component of correcting parking policy in order to justify tax increases is to eliminate mandatory parking minimums. Because the imposition of excise taxes on parking lot area can generate a new source of revenue for local governments, this could give them a perverse incentive to actually increase the minimum parking requirements for private developers in order to capture additional funds. In order to address this, legislators need to eliminate mandatory parking minimums within their jurisdiction.

While Cincinnati officials have failed to do the latter – in fact, their minimum parking requirements continue to undermine development in the city – their decision to raise public parking prices has paid off. Yesterday, city officials announced that parking revenues will make up the single largest share of the FY2017 operating budget of the new Cincinnati Streetcar. Funds generated from parking fees will make up $2.2 million of the $4.2 million total budget. Clearly, Cleveland leaders don’t need to look to Australia or the United Kingdom for examples of cities funding transit on the back of parking, given that it’s happening just 250 miles south on I-71.

This approach – taxing a public bad (excess parking) to fund a public good (reliable public transit) – is at the heart of good public policy. It’s no different than taxing cigarette sales to fund smoking cessation and public health programs (not professional sports stadiums) or taxing carbon emissions from coal-fired power plants to fund clean energy. Cleveland should take the baton from Cincinnati and run with it.

Ohio won’t save GCRTA, so let’s tax parking to fund transit instead

rta healthline buses
rta healthline buses

RTA HealthLine buses in downtown Cleveland (courtesy of Cleveland.com).

One of the biggest stories in Northeast Ohio right now is the Greater Cleveland RTA’s budget shortfall. It’s probably because of the company I keep, but my Facebook and Twitter feeds have been inundated with posts, comments, and tweets about every new update and public meeting for the past several weeks.

It’s a big story. GCRTA has reported that, in order to balance its books, it needs to cut expenses by $7 million this year. CEO Joe Calabrese and his staff have proposed a suite of route cuts and fare increases to plug this hole. Options include raising the base fare from to $2.50 per ride from $2.25 currently, increasing paratransit fares to $3.50 from $2.25, and curtailing or eliminating bus service along 18 routes. Alternatively, the agency could maintain existing service and increase the normal fare to $2.75 per trip.

Rather than just approving some combination of these options, the GCRTA Board of Directors tabled this discussion at its December 2015 meeting, opting to hold a series of 15 public meetings around the county. The last of these hearings occurred on Wednesday, and the ball is now back in the Board’s hands.

If I had to wager, I would guess they’ll raise fares by $0.50 to minimize the service cuts. Keep in mind that Cleveland has already cut annual bus revenue miles by nearly 40% since 2006, the single largest decrease in the country, according to Jake Anbinder of the Transit Center. Given the nearly overwhelming opposition to some of these service cuts, making it that much harder to get around town seems pretty untenable.

In addition to hosting this litany of hearings, Mr. Calabrese testified before the Cleveland City Council Transportation on Wednesday. He came to distill the agency’s challenges, justify its plans, and hear feedback from the Committee members. For the most part, the tenor from the Council members was pretty standard – they all agreed GCRTA is in a tight spot, they opposed service cuts in their wards, and they pilloried the State of Ohio for not doing its part.

Enough ink has been spilled – including by me – on the sad state of public transit funding in this state, so I won’t belabor the issue. Suffice it to say, as I once did, that I’m not sure it would be possible for Ohio’s elected officials to care less about public transit if they tried. Hell, even if Ohio devoted every one of the $7.3 million it kicks in for public transit to GCRTA, that would barely be enough to paper over its budget hole. The state needs to fund transit, full stop.

We can’t depend on Ohio to fund transit

But, while I don’t like cutting service on the 81 to the Lakeview Terraces or raising paratransit fares, I found myself agreeing most with Councilman Zach Reed. It was strange. I rarely see eye-to-eye with Councilman Reed on transportation issues, but his comments were dead on. He called on local officials to disabuse themselves of the notion that Ohio is suddenly going to find religion on transit funding.

Instead, Councilman Reed broached a subject that most local officials have sidestepped – we need to increase local funding for transit. Currently, GCRTA gets around 60% of its funding from a 1% county sales tax assessed in 1970. But this tax generates far less revenue today than it did in 1970; population loss costs the agency nearly $68 million in funding each year. That could close this budget hole nearly 10 times over.

gcrta sales tax revenue

Sales tax revenue by year (courtesy of GCRTA).

Additionally, Councilman Reed was the only person to note another key detail – federal and state transit dollars come with strings attached, including the local match requirement. Local governments need to cough up 20% of the cost of a project in order to spend federal transit dollars. This issue has increasingly become a hurdle. According to ODOT’s transit needs study (see page 46 of PDF), the state is sitting on more than $21 million in transit funding that it cannot disperse due to a lack of local matching funds. We need more transit spending for Cuyahoga County from Cuyahoga County; there’s no way around it.

Granted, continually increasing taxes on a shrinking population to fill budget gaps is a recipe for disaster. But not all taxes are created equal. There are certain levers that officials can pull to help rectify social harms and raise funds at the same time. And since sprawl is among Cleveland’s most pressing issues, taxing land uses that promote it can be beneficial. So let’s tax parking to fund transit.

Cleveland already has a parking tax, but…

First, I’ll note that Cleveland already taxes parking.* In 1995, City Council approved an 8% sales tax on commercial parking transactions in the city. This tax raises roughly $10-11 million per year for the City’s coffers. Or it, would if Council hadn’t passed this tax as part of its plan to finance a new Browns stadium. Cleveland doesn’t actually see a dime of this money, as it just goes to pay off debt from bonds issued for FirstEnergy Stadium. Argle bargle.

The easy way to raise funds for transit would be to simply raise this existing tax. Compared to other cities with this sort of tax, Cleveland’s is relatively low. New York City, Miami, and Los Angeles impose taxes of 18.5%, 20%, and 25%, respectively. Pittsburgh, which has impressively progressive transportation policies, imposes a 50% tax. Cleveland could, say, double its tax to 16% – raising $10 million per year for transit – and remain on par with other cities.

Unfortunately, despite its ubiquity, this tax is flawed. Because it’s assessed on reported transactions, parking lot operators have an incentive to underreport their sales, something that has occurred in Cleveland. Additionally, it can have the unintended consequence of reducing the supply of paid parking and increasing the supply of free parking in city centers.

According to a study (PDF) from the Victoria Transport Policy Institute (VTPI), “it makes urban centers relatively less competitive compared with suburban locations where parking is unpriced. In this way, commercial parking taxes can increase total parking subsidies and sprawl.” Not only are we wasting the revenues from our parking tax to subsidize a football stadium, the tax itself may be contributing to urban sprawl. Argle bargle.

Taxing parking lots by surface area instead

What other options exist? A number of cities outside of the US – chiefly in Australia and Canada – take a different approach. They levy a tax on the total area of surface parking lots or on the total number of parking spaces. In this way, the tax generates a double dividend; it produces tax revenue while also driving down the demand for parking and reducing congestion.

Following the advice of a study from Eran Feitelson and Orit Rotem, I propose that we implement a tax on the surface area of private parking lots. But this tax would be imposed based on the square footage of each lot at ground level; this would ensure that a surface parking lot like those blighting the Warehouse District would have the same tax burden as a 4-level parking deck with a comparable surface area on each level. Not only would this create revenue and cut into parking demand, it would also push developers towards parking decks, as the effective tax per parking spot falls with each additional level added.

Moreover, the supply of free parking in the region would decrease, as developers would now have a greater motivation to recoup tax expenditures by charging. There is a legitimate risk that hiking up parking taxes could push people away from downtown or other districts within Cleveland. Accordingly, this policy should be implemented at the county level. Doing so would increase the cost of developing in suburban and exurban areas, relative to the city center, because the latter has an existing supply of parking decks and underground lots.

Because this would be applied countywide, it would be essentially a commuter tax imposed on both county residents and those people who live outside but enter the county to work, go to school, shop, see a sporting event, etc. This would help to address the types of equity concerns we face when dealing with similar taxes, like the Sin Tax.

Coincidentally, ODOT actually explored the idea of levying an annual tax on parking spaces to fund transit all the way back in 1993. The agency estimated (see page 20 of PDF) that this sort of tax could generate $187.3 million per year. If we adjust for inflation, that would be equal to $307 million in 2016 dollars. If we conservatively assume that a tax in Cuyahoga County could generate 10% of this revenue, that would still equal roughly $30 million per year.

Excess parking is a scourge for urban areas. It consumes valuable land, encourages driving and sprawl, contributes to air pollution and climate change, increases surface runoff, and harms water quality. On a good day, GCRTA struggles to compete and keep its budget balanced. Parking makes this challenge that much harder. So let’s try to remedy our incentives and tax parking to fund transit.


*Credit to Cleveland real estate lawyer and part-time blogger Christian Carson, whose 2014 post helped put me onto this idea.

Actually, fuel economy standards are a great way to tackle carbon emissions

plug-in hybrid prius
plug-in hybrid prius

A Toyota Prius plug-in hybrid vehicle (courtesy of Wikimedia Commons).

It feels like it’s been ages since I wrote a post taking down something that someone else has written. I get the impression that is what people enjoy on the World Wide Web these days, plus it’s pretty fun to rip apart a person’s specious argument – using peer-reviewed literature and well-sourced facts, of course.

With that in mind, I feel somewhat obligated to address an op-ed I read in the Los Angeles Times on Monday from Salim Furth, a research fellow at the conservative think tank The Heritage Foundation. In the piece, Furth argues that state and federal fuel economy standards are a poor policy tool for limiting mobile greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions and that they unfairly harm low-income families. Instead, he calls for California state officials to focus their attention on land use reforms that would “allow denser, environmentally conscious construction” to “make residents less dependent on car.”

On the surface, this seems reasonable. I’ve written in the past about how promoting denser, infill development patterns in sprawling metro areas like Cleveland could go a long way towards improving air quality and limiting GHG emissions. To the extent that Furth is calling for these sorts of policies, we are probably on the same page.

Except, when you dig into his argument, it collapses like the proverbial house of cards. As the folks at Climate Nexus argued, “Instead of suggesting policy that would preserve more land to act as a carbon sink, Furth writes that California should instead relax the permitting process so that development is even easier.” And this is exactly what he argues. While it’s true that NIMBY-ism can inhibit the development of denser, multifamily housing (see: Washington, DC), it takes a certain amount of rhetorical gymnastics to assert that the fault lies with environmental regulations. I guess that’s what you get when dealing with stuff from Heritage.

Comparing fuel economy to land use planning

But none of this gets to the central thesis of Furth’s argument – that fuel economy standards are less effective tools for curbing GHG emissions than “streamlined” permitting and “more permissive zoning laws.” Why enforce regulations that cost the average family roughly $4,000 to only mitigate global climate change by a fraction of a percent?

Leaving aside the fact that Furth demands California repeal state fuel economy rules that even he admits were superseded by President Obama’s 2011 CAFE standards, does his main point hold water? Well, he never actually provides a shred of evidence to support his argument, for one. How can we know if the CAFE standards will cut GHG emissions less than land use reform if we don’t have numbers for the latter?

Fortunately, there exist a number of studies and reports that dig into the potential for land use reform to mitigate climate change. At the local level, several of these analyses have come from metropolitan planning organizations (MPOs), which are federally-mandated agencies that conduct transportation and environmental planning activities for urban areas.

Back in 2008, California lawmakers passed SB 375, the Sustainable Communities and Climate Protection Act, which requires every MPO in the state to develop a sustainable communities strategy (SCS) that outlines its approach to meeting its GHG emission reduction target. These targets are established by the California Air Resources Board (CARB). To what extent can land use planning by MPOs contribute to these these goals? And do the projected reductions in GHG emissions exceed those from fuel economy standards?

In a word, no. CARB estimated (PDF) in 2010 that regional transportation and land use policies can only account for one-sixth of the GHG reductions generated by federal CAFE and low-carbon fuel standards through 2020. That proportion will likely increase after 2020, as the full effects of those long-term policies are realized, but they still pale in comparison. Given that Furth is writing about California, you think he’d be aware of these data.

Evidence from outside California

Findings from MPOs in other states back up CARB. Washington, DC’s MPO found similar results (PDF). The region’s leaders set a goal of reducing GHGs 80% versus a 2005 business as usual (BAU) scenario by 2050. According to their analyses, enacting new land use and transportation policies at the metro level can only make up 3.3% of this 80%. Increasing CAFE standards to 99 could account for 30% of the reduction, however, making this approach 10 times more effective. While raising CAFE standards would likely lead to something of a rebound effect by making driving cheaper, the results are still impressive.

The Puget Sound Regional Council (PDF) – Seattle’s MPO – has also modeled the potential GHG savings from various policies. They found that more compact development and better pricing transportation could cut GHGs by 6% and 9% compared to BAU, respectively. Emissions control strategies, like stricter fuel economy standards and the electrification of the vehicle fleet, have the potential to cut GHG emissions by 25-43%, depending on how aggressive they are. Even in the more conservative scenario, these standards outperform land use controls. The benefits of land use policies take an outsized role in Seattle, as transportation accounts for two-thirds of the city’s total emissions, because it’s electric grid is so much cleaner than the national average. Accordingly, Seattle is the best case scenario for Furth’s argument, but it still falls short.

ghg savings from different scenarios

Potential GHG reductions from various policy instruments under different scenarios (courtesy of Puget Sound Regional Council).


And just to hammer my point home further, the Transportation Research Board (TRB) published a comprehensive report on this topic back in 2009. The authors modeled the impacts on GHG emissions from 2000 to 2030 and 2050 under two scenarios, which assumed that 25% and 75% of all new housing would be be built in compact development areas, respectively.

While scenario 1 only sees GHG emissions fall 1.3-1.7% by 2050, while scenario 2 bumps this number up to 8-11%. But, again, tightening CAFE standards wins the day. The study finds that adding aggressive fuel economy requirements to scenario 2 can increase the GHG reduction potential up to 39-51%. The report states, “In short, over the longer time frame (i.e. to 2050), the impacts of continuing improvements in fuel economy beyond 2020 on energy use and CO2 emissions significantly outstrip those from more compact development.”

As is so often the case, an op-ed emerging from The Heritage Foundation is tripped up by the think tank’s old nemesis – math.

In the effort to cut GHG emissions and battle climate change, we don’t need to privilege better land use planning at the expense of tighter fuel economy standards. We need to harness every policy tool at our disposal, and these are two great tastes that taste great together. While it’s true that better fuel economy can undermine some of the GHG benefits of compact land use, we should clearly pursue these approaches in tandem. For, in the long-run, more compact, mixed-use development and more efficient vehicles are both important tools for improving air quality, reducing transportation costs, revitalizing our neighborhoods, enhancing public health, and battling climate change.

Let’s bring back this 1920s-era insult for reckless drivers

reckless bieber
reckless bieber

This image of Justin Bieber is among the first pictures that pop up when you Google “reckless driver.” ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (Courtesy of YouTube).

Yesterday, I finally finished Fighting Traffic, Peter D. Norton’s book that outlines the battle over the United States’ transportation system during the early decades of the 20th century. In it, Norton outlines how a diverse coalition of auto interests, up to and including Commerce Secretary-cum-President of the United States Herbert Hoover, waged a coordinated campaign to reshape this country’s social, political, and physical infrastructure to usher in the age of the automobile.

Early on, “motordom” (as these individuals ultimately dubbed themselves) faced stiff opposition from the general public, regulatory officials, newspapers, and police as this dangerous vehicle usurped streets from traditional users, namely pedestrians and streetcars. A key component of this transition was the adoption and calculated use of the term “jaywalker,” which branded pedestrians that clung fast to their traditional rights to the street in the face of new restrictions as clueless bumpkins responsible for any harm that befell them.

But victory for motordom was far from guaranteed. For several years public opinion was firmly against cars, which many saw as unnecessary, inherently dangerous machines. A key turning point in this fight was the 1923 Cincinnati speed governor war, when residents tried to pass a referendum requiring all cars be equipped with a device restricting their maximum speed to 25 miles per hour. Seeing the threat this posed to their industry, car interests united for one of the first times to kill this initiative at the ballot box. Motordom was emerging as a new political force.

Realizing that speed was the primary feature that made the care an attractive transportation mode, auto groups worked to divorce the concept of safety from speed. The real threat to public safety was not speeding, they claimed, it was a small group of “reckless” drivers. Shifting responsibility from the machine to the individual also gave them space to blame reckless pedestrians for their own deaths. Good citizens followed the newly imposed traffic laws.

All of this is just stage setting for one of my favorite anecdotes in the book:

Even before the Cincinnati speed governor war, the [American Automobile Association] sought to redirect stigma and blame “the driver who terrorizes pedestrians and careful drivers alike.” In 1922, the association offered $25 – in gold – to the person who submitted an epithet for such motorists equivalent in its sting to “jaywalker.” Existing derisive names (such as “joy-rider” and “speed maniac”) implicitly linked speed and danger; the AAA needed words that left open the possibilities of safe speed and slow carelessness. The winning suggestion was “flivverboob.” Yet publicity for this word was nowhere near as extensive as that for “jaywalker,” and it never caught on.

That “flivverboob” never caught on as an insult is a damn shame. It has all the trappings of 1920s-era nonsense, and it’s just plain fun as hell to say. I wholeheartedly endorse bringing it back, even despite its dubious origins.

So, fellow cyclists and pedestrians (and defensive drivers, for that matter), the next time that some maniac behind the wheel nearly runs you off the road or t-bones you at an intersection, feel free to lob the f-word at him. But, this time, make it “flivverboob.”