One of the more elegant events in my travel life happened a few years ago in Kansas City. I landed at the airport with a friend, and we waited for the shuttle bus to take us to the long-term parking lot. The bus arrived. We stowed our luggage and sat on opposite sides (the seats faced inwards). The bus slowly filled up with people, until there was only one open seat between each person.
The next person stepped onto the bus and looked around. He saw that the luggage rack was near full, and that every other seat was occupied. Knowing that he would have to commit the rudeness of cramming himself in next to someone, he backed off the bus, saying “I’ll take the next one.”
I’ve lived overseas for the last few years, and I’ve often had to face the indignity of taking public transportation. I remember one particular morning, I was standing in the cold, nearly late for work, when my bus arrived.
I stepped off the curb and eyed the bus warily. A few people got on in front of me, and it looked like the bus would be full. Even with the freezing weather and dwindling time, I contemplated taking the next bus.
Then, at the last moment, a space appeared. I stepped into the nook, scanned my bus card, and settled in for the ride, knowing that the bus was now completely, 100% full.
Six more people got on the bus after me.
This isn’t the first time this has happened. I’ve been crushed in subways and buses from Istanbul to Beijing to Seoul. I’ve even experienced it in America, the supposed land of the free.
Now, most people will accept that humans and cows have different rights. For example, humans have the right to free speech; cows do not. Humans have the right not to be eaten; cows do not. To force cows into a confined space for transportation is something we accept. The same should not be true of people.
Using the Kansas City situation as an example, I would now like to introduce an important civic concept: Take the next one.
There’s another bus or subway coming in a few minutes. If this one is full, don’t shove your way on; just wait a few minutes and get on the next one. You will be more relaxed, and everyone will be more comfortable. Wherever you’re going, it’s not important enough to subject everyone else to the annoyance and discomfort of an overcrowded space.
I suppose there are times, in an emergency, when one could legitimately cram onto a bus or subway car. But those are rare, and there’s no way that all the extra people have something critical to get to.
In someplaces, there is no next one. Either the bus only comes by every 2-3 days (Spain) or the next subway will be just as ridiculously full as this one (Beijing).
Then it’s time to 1) find another way to work, 2) quit your job or 3) move.
Face it — the world is full . It’s not just getting full, it is full, and 3 billion more people are on the way. We can either take a stand against overcrowding and overpopulation now, and take steps to alleviate it, or we can live like cattle, forced in to ever shrinking spaces while our cultural memories of blue skies and open spaces fade into nothing.
In 20 years, will we be talking about free range humans, who get to spend time in nature before coming to their cubicle?
The more people acquiesce to crowding, the worse it gets. The more people refuse to be crowded, the greater the impetus to set off into unsettled areas. This is the urge that led us across the frontiers, and it is the urge that will lead us to space.
But not if we keep putting up with being crushed on the bus.
I’m a really big fan of this applying this idea to elevators. I’ve been to a lot of conferences where attendees cram themselves into elevators so tightly that they actually manage in some cases to break them.
It’s one of the reasons I instituted my own conference elevator policy: 5 floors or less I never take an elevator, and I don’t get into an elevator without enough floorspace for me to curl up into a ball (being 5′2″, that’s easier than it sounds).
Tom,
Good for you. I’m sure space-lovers everywhere appreciate it. I’ve never understood why people cram onto elevators and escalators when 1) it’s only a couple of floors up or 2) you’re going down. Plus, you get a little extra exercise. I’ve gotten some strange looks while heading for the stairs. At least I’m not the only one.
I actually believe that adjacent seats are intended as personal barriers, not for sitting. Because of this, there have been many a time that I’ve refunded my movie tickets at the prospect of having to sit next to somebody, without at least one barrier in between.
I would argue that this only applies when you’re starting at an endpoint of the applicable route (i.e. an airport shuttle) or, in the case of elevators, have a known surplus of transportation vehicles. In the case of a cyclic route such as a subway or bus, refusing to get on the transport because of a consideration of personal space seems disastrous.
As an argument, let’s say I’m in no rush to get somewhere in a busy city, and live near the midpoint of a given bus route.
If a bus arrives, and is “full” (meaning to this threshold of personal space you’re espousing), I can choose to either get on the bus and encroach, or wait for the next bus. But in a busy city, and not living on the endpoint of the route, I have no reasonable guarantee that the next bus won’t be as full or worse. At this point I’ve already yielded to your “personal space” once and now face the same problem. Further, if I have a reasonable belief that all subsequent buses will be full to the same degree, I’ve now incurred a rather large personal cost (time wasted) to absolutely no benefit.
From the point of view of a game theoretician, the concept of personal space isn’t socially optimal. Assuming each person incurs a slight cost when an additional rider gets on a bus (inaccurate, as the cost is only truly incurred by those in proximity to the new rider) the average cost is still minimized by cramming people in as opposed to making some wait.
More to the point, the (minimal) social benefit associated with me waiting for the next bus only occurs if I and all subsequent decision makers wait for the next bus. If the next person’s definition of “full” is greater than mine by one person, then the average social payoff is exactly the same regardless of if I choose to ride or wait, whereas my personal payoff is much greater if I ride.
As to the “overcrowding and overpopulation” line, refusing to acquiesce to “crowding” doesn’t change that. Nothing short of culling the human population changes that. All you’re accomplishing is, at best, becoming a dinosaur with an outmoded concept of entitlement, or at worst driving that overcrowding into other areas of the world. Basically, because YOU want your space, everyone else in the world is having to live with less space. And if you can seriously think of “unsettled areas” which are fit for human habitation, by all means lead the way. Don’t expect everyone else to bend over backwards to protect your culturally extinct concept of personal space.
+1 on Chris
Except for the final point. If you don’t think about it too hard, it’s an absurdity that we have so much unemployed skilled construction labor when we desperately need increased capacity on our public transit. We should be able to build our way out of the problem without culling the herd.