Sustainable Transportation Blog

For almost a century, our transportation planning in North America has been premised on universal automobility, or, rather, the notion that it is universally aspired to. The car, possessing as it does a host of attributes considered desireable, commodious and sexy, is placed as the top of the hierarchy as the premium transportation mode. Our cities and all attendant functions and services are designed to facilitate cars, while below the automobile in status and practicality lie rail transit, busses, taxis, and then, finally, bicycles and walking. To be without a car is accorded such low status in our society that it can affect our self-worth, as illustrated in a recent Globe & Mail essay in which "Mom without Wheels" Bonnie Goldberg professed "pricks of hot shame" at not being able to drive her daughter to school.

However, if we want to move towards sustainability – universal mobility over the long run – we have to reverse this hierarchy of transportation modes. Active Transportation – walking, cycling and other physical forms -- offer the greatest environmental and social benefits in terms of emission savings, travel costs and personal and ecosystem health. Each of those savings is enormous as there are no real emissions or fuel costs and large benefits to health and to health care budgets associated with Active Transportation. The only costs are the relatively low investments in infrastructure that can have multiple uses for human access. Transit, car pooling and other shared usage strategies deliver the next level of benefits, particularly if these strategies involve grid tied transportation or future EV, PHEV or hybrid vehicles. Single occupancy vehicles (SOV) offer the least emissions reductions but even they can be competitive in scenarios where PHEVs and EVs are utilized. 

To make this new hierarchy apparent and viable, we need to serve the pedestrian, cyclist and transit rider so well and so lavishly that drivers will envy them. This may seem like it will require a massive cultural shift, but the fact is it is already underway.

One sign of this is that the marketing of bicycles is beginning to more closely resemble that of the automobile. For example, bicycles are now sold under the Cadillac brand, and the ad copy for them is every bit as colourful and seductive as that used for their cars: 

"Cadillac Bicycles provides a breakthrough line of bicycles and accessories to the client who values quality, style, performance, and luxury. Built with the finest materials and craftsmanship available, Cadillac Bicycles is the benchmark for a smooth, comfortable ride for a lifetime of cycling excitement. We combine traditional as well as innovative bicycle designs with classic styling and timeless finishes to form an elegant package with an instant brand recognition that stands for quality."

That the bicycle -- long disregarded in North America as a legitimate mode of transportation -- can now be associated with that most premium (and gas-guzzling) of automobiles is, perhaps, ironic; yet it also marks what may be a shift in consciousness regarding our transportation identities -- a sign that human powered vehicles can also be status symbols.

(This desire for luxurious human-powered vehicles has already taken what may be its most extreme [and whimsical] expression in a recumbent bicycle tricked out to look like a Cadillac that was featured at the 2008 Toronto International Bike Show).

Another sign that human power is getting more respect these days is the number of cities and hotels offering bikesharing programs aimed at boosting their tourism industries. According to the Globe and Mail, bicycles are the new "key to the city":

"As urban cycling gains in popularity, following the European example, cities and hotels are offering bike-sharing and bike paths – along with bikes as amenities for guests – as a way to attract visitors and open up a new tourism experience."

I (MD) recently experienced first-hand this new change in status. This past month I cycled through the rain to a conference held at the downtown Delta Hotel here in Winnipeg. I got off my bike and saw to my dismay that there were no bike racks and immediately started writing in my head an irate letter to the management of the hotel. As I began to lock it up to a sign post, the doorman came up to me and told me that I shouldn't lock it up there. I added a new paragraph to my mental letter.

"Are you staying in the hotel?" he asked through the rain.

My brain stopped writing for a moment. "I'm attending the conference."

"Well then, take your bike into the lobby, go to the desk and they'll check your bike in and store it for you."

Stunned, I wheeled my bike into the hotel lobby. Sure enough, the bellhop approached me, wrote out a number on a tag and passed it to me, and then, smiling, wheeled my bicycle away. The doorman then took my poncho, coat, rain pants, helmet and pannier, offered me another tag, and took them into the coat check. Dry, unencumbered and immensely pleased, I attended the day's sessions, never once worrying about the security of my bicycle, or bothered by having to carry around my gear.

Surely none of the delegates who drove the Delta that day were treated half as well!

Yes, there are signs of positive change, but the truth is that our automobile culture has been with us for over a century and will not go away quickly, even if we were to run out of oil tomorrow. The modes of transportation that provide the greatest public good, to say nothing of keeping people happy and healthy and out of the medical system, have for too long been ignored and misunderstood. The time has come to treat cyclists, walkers and transit users as the champions they are and that means providing them with the high quality infrastructure and services they need.

Michael Dudley and Arne Elias