WARNING: Driving May Be Hazardous to Your Mental Health!by Stephen L. Beck There are lots of reasons not to drive. Not least among them, though, is that driving tends to make people mean. I both drive my car and ride my bike when getting around town, and I'll admit right off the bat that I'm not always as serene as I'd like to be. From time to time I get angry at others on the roads. But this usually happens when I'm driving, not when I'm cycling. That, and the fact that "road rage" is so prevalent that it now has a catchy name, leads me to think that there's something emotionally unhealthy about driving in itself. Of course, traffic is a big cause of road rage. There are so many cars on the roads, particularly during rush hours, that a driver can easily feel boxed in, moving forward a few yards before having to brake again, waiting through two or more cycles of a traffic light. This is extremely frustrating, especially when accompanied by the honking of other frustrated drivers. What I find most striking, though, is that driving alone - which is the way most people drive - is by its very nature anti-social. A person alone in a car is sealed off from others. Drivers don't generally communicate with each other, for the simple reason that they pass each other too quickly. You can't say "hello" to every driver you encounter or even establish eye contact with them, much less exchange pleasantries about the weather. There is no social space between drivers; they are never close enough for long enough to interact socially. Two things tend to happen to people in cars. First, the car becomes an extension of their bodies; their personalities expand to encompass their whole vehicles. Being in control of a powerful vehicle is like suddenly having an immensely strong physique; being in control of an expensive vehicle is like suddenly becoming a very attractive person. The person and the car merge to become a person-car. Second, drivers, once merged into person-cars, easily lose sight of the humanity of other drivers. Humans make contact and recognize each other primarily by seeing each other's faces, but drivers often can't clearly distinguish the faces of other drivers. Sometimes all you'll see is a head. When the light or the weather is bad, you can't even see anyone in another car. That's why people sometimes refer to other drivers as "cars"; really, they don't see other people, only other people-cars. People-cars must sometimes communicate, generally when there's a problem, real or perceived. Usually, the situation is dangerous, comes on in a flash and is emotionally charged. The communication must be quick and effective. The options for communication are limited: drivers can honk, make wild (and sometimes rude!) hand gestures, or shout. Normal human beings begin conversations by greeting each other. Naturally, people-cars cannot do this, so any communication comes out of the blue, and so can easily provoke an angry response. The power and esteem a driver feels as the brains of a person-car makes him feel free to indulge his own anger. These features of driving are the perfect conditions for the outbreak of "road rage." There's a temptation to blame road rage on individual drivers' bad attitudes. But this is too easy - it ignores all the inherent features of driving that promote road rage. No doubt, many drivers, myself included, should try to relax rather than let anger get the better of them. But it is in the nature of driving that it is easy to dehumanize other drivers, that drivers are insulated from each other, that they feel themselves to be enhanced beings, and that they can only communicate in the most rudimentary way in conditions of emergency. Given all this, is it any wonder that so many drivers develop road rage? The experience of riding a bike on the road is wholly different. A cyclist is out in the open and travels at a slower speed than cars. I find that when riding, I am more aware of my surroundings and of other people around me. I can admire the natural beauty of our area. I can acknowledge oncoming cyclists with a nod or a brief word. When I pass a cyclist traveling in my direction, or when one passes me, we can exchange a brief pleasantry. If I see a friend walking alongside the street, I can stop and chat for a moment - something I would rarely do when in a car. When I ride my bike, I feel a mixture of pride and humility. The pride comes from the fact that I'm moving under my own power; my speed is largely due to my own leg power instead of my fancy vehicle. The humility comes from my vulnerability; on my bike I generate much less force than a moving car, and I have only my helmet for protection. This combination makes me respect of the power of cars and to seek human contact with their drivers, if only to make sure they see me. Some drivers still treat cyclists as interlopers on the public roads. As a cyclist I try to mitigate against that attitude by asserting my right to be on the road, but in a friendly way, by making eye contact and waving at drivers. Because I travel more slowly and there is one less pane of glass between the driver and me, I can make contact more easily on my bike than in my car. On the whole, as a cyclist I am more aware of others as people. I'm only describing generalities here; as far as the actual attitudes of drivers and cyclists are concerned, "your mileage may vary." Lots of drivers are sensitive to others on the road, and cyclists can get as angry as any driver. Still, the way that driving frames a person's traveling experience is influential. When you're stuck in traffic, when you're driving alone and can't make contact with the people right around you, and when you have to make effort even to recognize the humanity of other drivers, it's too easy to let anger take control of you. Everyone would agree that we ought to make an effort to behave more civilly on the roads. I suggest that one way to do this is to leave the car at home and ride your bike instead.
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