Elizabeth Weingarten
Senior Fellow, Better Life Lab
Do you want to go on a bike ride?
A simple question with what might seem like a
simple answer, especially as spring weather begins to waft across the country.
Dig a little deeper, and it gets more
complicated. Your decision to ride a
bike is likely informed not just by the temperature and your energy level 颅鈥
but also by your gender, and the influence of a burgeoning movement that鈥檚
transforming streets across America.
It鈥檚 a movement led in large part by an emerging
community of female transportation planners 鈥 many of whom have marshaled research
that illuminates realities like the (there鈥檚 one woman
for every three men riding a bike in the U.S.) and to make the case
for a radical change in how we think about getting from here to there.
For decades, planners designed streets, and our
transportation systems, in ways that inadvertently sacrificed safety to focus
on driver freedom. They focused on how to reduce congestion for commuters,
often neglecting to think about the population outside of the 9-to-five
workforce. The results of this strategy: infrastructure built less for
peoples鈥 holistic needs, and more for vehicles.
鈥淚n the past
five to ten years, there鈥檚 been a big shift in the way we think about designing
communities and neighborhoods for bicycling and walking,鈥 said Seleta Reynolds,
the general manager of the Los Angeles Department of Transportation at New
America鈥檚 annual conference. 鈥淲hen you look at the leadership in the traffic
safety movement, there are lots of women doing transformative things because
they may see transportation from a different angle or lens.鈥
In many ways, Reynolds said, women are 鈥渃hanging the rulebook
for how we design streets, and how we entice more women and families out to use
them in a different way.鈥
Many of these rulebook changes originate with New York
City鈥檚 Janette Sadik-Khan, the commissioner of the Department of Transportation
from 2007-2013. She pioneered a street design plan that focused on the city鈥檚
most vulnerable travelers 鈥 and is known as a visionary in the transportation
planning industry, even if she .
Around that time, came out showing that women and casual bicyclists prefer quieter,
slower streets and more separated paths. That research combined with the inspired the construction of hundreds of bike lanes
across the U.S. 鈥淲hat Janette did was to
create kind of environment where women, children and older adults would feel
more comfortable getting on a bike and would feel measurably safer walking,鈥
Reynolds explained.
The push to focus on women and vulnerable
populations extends beyond the streets to the Department of Transportation鈥檚 (JARC), which is committed to strengthening transit
connections in nontraditional commuting routes and times, typically traveled by
women and lower-income communities trying to get to jobs or child care centers
that are often located outside of conventional routes. The idea is to make sure
that people who work a late shift, or do the reverse commute from city to
suburbs, have reliable, affordable transit. In theory, a great program. In
practice, says 鈥 Robin Hutcheson, the director of the Transportation Planning
Division of Salt Lake City, JARC funding can be difficult to come by and
鈥渄oesn鈥檛 always help us as a city do what we need to do.鈥
Both Reynolds and Hutcheson believe there may be a new role for government
to play in increasing access for low-income communities as transportation and commuting
shifts to a service-based model 鈥 in other words, people ditching their cars to
rely more on driverless vehicles, Uber, Lyft, Bridge or car share to get around. Bike
sharing and car sharing are not used as much in lower-income neighborhoods, she
explained, due to both financial and cultural barriers. To Reynolds, the
government could help encourage the shift away from individual car ownership
towards a more sustainable model by subsidizing these services for lower-income
populations.
Philadelphia鈥檚 new bike sharing program, , is one new
example of how to get lower-income Americans on bikes. The program removes financial
barriers by allowing patrons to pay with cash in addition to credit cards.
But the push for more bike-friendly communities
hasn鈥檛 always been a walk 鈥 or a ride 鈥 in the park. For instance, in order to boost numbers of
female bike riders, transportation planners have learned that it鈥檚 important to
create a more substantial separation between bikers and traffic. 鈥淲hen there is
nothing between you and moving traffic except a four-inch white stripe, you鈥檙e
not going to put your kid on a bike, nor are you going to go out on a bike,鈥 Reynolds
said. But if you build a physical curb,
or even flip flop parked cars with bike lanes on the road, more women will
pedal.
But 鈥渢o give space to something, you have to take
it from something else,鈥 Reynolds said, acknowledging that we鈥檙e no longer in
the business of widening our roads. Another example of these tradeoffs: Vision
Zero – a traffic safety project with the goal of eliminating traffic fatalities
and serious injuries. It began in Sweden and has spread globally, with
leadership efforts from both men and women. To reduce traffic deaths under
Vision Zero, 鈥淚 have to get everyone to slow down鈥nd people across any
discipline don鈥檛 do well when it comes to change,鈥 Reynolds said, explaining
that speed is a key indicator in how destructive a traffic incident will be. In
other words, 鈥渟aving lives comes at a cost.鈥
And then there鈥檚 the matter of culture change 鈥
teaching people to both approach and talk about driving in a different
way. One critical pathway to this kind
of change, Reynolds noted at the conference, is starting to talk about safety
outcomes not as 鈥渁ccidents,鈥 as if they couldn鈥檛 have been prevented, but
鈥渃rashes,鈥 where someone was responsible, and should be accountable for the
consequences.
The idea that we all need to slow down is something
that parents who witness near-crashes every day near their kids鈥 schools
understand intuitively. But in many
cases, that macro-level understanding hasn鈥檛 translated into micro-level
behavioral change.
Not yet, at least. 鈥淲hen I was growing up, you didn鈥檛 wear
seatbelts,鈥 she recalled. Today, we may be buckling up more, but in the traffic
safety space, there鈥檚 still 鈥渁 real fundamental culture change we have to get
to.鈥 Reynolds, however, is optimistic: 鈥淚 don鈥檛 think it鈥檚 out of our reach.鈥
Culture
change, however, often requires leadership change. And diversifying the
transportation C-Suite may be one of the biggest remaining challenges 鈥 as it
is for other male-dominated industries.
鈥淚t鈥檚 one of
my biggest frustrations, that I feel like more women are coming into
transportation and are succeeding at the low level management and mid-level
management, but then the doors still seem closed,鈥 said Swaim-Staley. 鈥淲e have fewer female DOT secretaries now than we
had a few years ago. I see a glass ceiling more than I did when I started out.鈥
That may be
more true in state government than in city government, Hutcheson pointed out.
Salt Lake City, she noted, has more than a dozen women in leadership positions.
And Hutcheson herself is an example of how even one woman in a leadership role
can have a multiplier effect; Janette Sadik-Khan was an inspiration to Hutcheson as she rose into transportation industry
leadership.
鈥淛补苍别迟迟别
showed me – and many of us 鈥 what was
possible,鈥 Hutcheson said.