This Pyschologist Doesn't Think We're Crazy

If you cycle because you want to, non-cyclists probably have referred to you by any number of adjectives and epithets.  One of them might be "crazy."

I'll admit that I actually called one of my fellow cyclists "crazy."  So, however, did other members of our "crew."  Actually, Ray Tirado wasn't crazy so much as he was fearless and seemingly incapable of feeling physical pain. (All right, some might argue that such a combination of traits might add up to a listing or two in the DSM.) Most of our rides together were off-road and he made jumps and descents that, even when I still had most of my insecurity and testosterone, I wouldn't have dared.  Even on a straightaway on a the road, under a clear sky with the wind at our backs, I could see that his attitude toward riding, and life, was different from anything I could imagine.

That said, I admire him to this day.  Even though he seemed to be riding "gonzo," whether on off his bike, he always seemed to understand who he is--which meant that the risks he took weren't just acts of hubris:  He was pushing his boundaries because he understood what they were and didn't want them to be boundaries any more.

I must admit that, to this day, I value few compliments I've ever received  for anything more than the ones he gave me for my riding (!) and "for being you," as he once said.  "You know why you ride, or do anything you do."

He got half of that statement right.  To this day, I sometimes do things without knowing why.  Cycling is not one of them, which is why it's one of the few things I can't imagine my life without.

You see, after half a century of dedicated riding--which has included commuting, touring, racing, messenger work, riding on and off the road in all kinds of conditions in about two dozen different countries--I can say that I understand the risks of sluicing through city traffic, barreling down a rocky hill or pedaling into the teeth of a mistral as well as anyone.

And I know, as "Crazy Ray" surely did, that those risks are outweighed by the benefits, not the least of which are the ones for our mental health.  One of the world's most influential people also understands as much--which is why he got me to thinking about Ray.

He's just published his latest book, Rationality:  What It Is, Why It Seems Scarce, Why It Matters.  One way you know he's an academician is that the book title has a colon in it. But he's more than that:  a real intellectual, a thinker.  That means that, as much as he enjoys cycling, it's not an unconscious or reflexive act for him.  "Given the value you put on your life and the fact that there's even a very small probability of getting killed," he asks, "does it outweigh the pleasure and health benefits of continuing to ride?"

Steven Pinker.  

The people who can't understand why we ride are usually focused on the first part of his question:  the risk.  But Steven Pinker, a Harvard psychologist who specializes in psycholinguistics and social relations, has been thinking about why he rides for as long as he's been riding. For example, as a kid, he tried to understand how he could remain upright while riding, which would lead him to learn about the brain's workings and how they relate to Newton's law of gravity.  Also, while growing up, he heard about men--including three uncles and several of his father's friends--dying prematurely of heart attacks.  So, he says, as a young man he resolved to keep himself in good cardiovascular health.  His studies in neuroscience would confirm the wisdom of his choice:  "physical exercise is one of the best ways to extend brain health."

So, the Harvard researcher and my old riding buddy--who, by the way, was a plumber--would agree on this:  Riding a bicycle is as about as rational as anything a human being can do.
 

Cycling: Socially Profitable--And Good For Business

As an undergraduate, I took an economics class.  The thing I remember most is the professor intoning, "Marginal Revenue equals Marginal Cost", then pounding the podium  and shouting "Always!"  I don't recall, exactly, what that means, but I do understand--more or less--by two other phrases he seemed to use in every class:  "supply and demand" and "benefit cost analysis."

That last phrase might be one of the few things I actually understood in that class, which may be the reason why it's probably the only thing I took from that class and used in my daily life.  Well, sometimes, anyway.  I guess most of us perform some version of a "benefit cost analysis" when we're making important decisions.  

Of course, the "benefits" and "costs" are not always monetarily measurable, or even quantifiable in any other way.   For example, we might give up some free time in order to volunteer for something, or simply to help someone.  The "cost" of the free time can't be measured; nor can the "benefit" of serving meals at a soup kitchen.  

Sometimes the costs and benefits of something are both quantitative and qualitative or, if you like, empirical and subjective.  An example is a city's efforts to encourage cycling.  

What's interesting is that the authors of a study from the Spanish research group Applied Economics and Management, which is based at the University of Seville, set out to discover whether building cycling infrastructure in their city--and generally--is a net gain.  One thing that sets their study apart from others like it, however, is that the economists involved didn't try to calculate only business profitability.  Instead, they tried to measure what is commonly called "social profitability":  Does the investment make the city a better place to live?

Now, if you ask cyclists--or people who want to make their cities "bicycle friendly"--that question in reference to bicycle infrastructure, their reflexive answer would be "Yes!"  And, on the whole, the authors of the study agree, but with some caveats.

Those researchers seem to share some of my skepticism about bike lanes.  Indeed, they conclude that it's not enough that Seville has constructed 140 kilometers (about 87 miles) of bike lanes or 260 bike-share share stations.  They are just two elements of a scheme that would actually entice more people to ride bikes to work, school, shop or play.  The authors, therefore, advise that other  "complementary services", such as places to safely and securely park bicycles at the beginnings and ends of routes, are necessary.  Absent such measures, they say, cycling for transportation in Seville "will probably enter a period of stagnation, not to say decline."

Yes, they understand that "bicycle infrastructure" isn't just bike share programs and bike lanes and that they alone don't make cities "bike friendly."  (If anything, the poorly-conceived, designed, constructed and maintained bike lanes I've encountered probably keep people from cycling and discourage those who've just started.)  Moreover, they also acknowledge that public projects often end up costing a lot more than anyone anticipated, especially in a country like Spain, notorious for its corruption and the over-spending that results from it.

Even weighing in such factors, the researchers found a remarkably high social profitability to the bike lanes and stations that have been constructed. That, even as University of Seville Economics Professor Jose Ignacio Castillo Manzano, the chief author of the study, says that his team used a "conservative approach" that didn't take into account such factors as the reduction of traffic and noise levels or the national and international recognition the city has earned for its use of the bicycle.

So, the short answer is, yes, building bicycle infrastructure--the right kind, anyway is socially profitable--and good for business!

Are You Pondering What I'm Pondering?

Over the years, I have come to realize that there we have rationales, and we have our  motivatons, for cycling.

The rationales are the reasons why we say we ride:  You can get to work faster than you can on the bus.  It's less expensive than even mass transportation, let alone driving, even if you are one of those people who will commute or go to the store only on top-of-the-line equipment.  When you pedal, there is one less motorized vehicle on the road--which, of course, is good for the environment.  And, it's good for your heart, lungs and everything else in your body (well, almost).  Hey, I know of people who gave up their gym memberships after they started cycling to work.

Now, of course, those are all perfectly good reasons to ride.  But I don't think anyone--even one who fancies him or her self an environmentalist or a "health nut"--has ever become a "lifer" on the bike only because of such rationales.

Professor on a bicycle

In much the same way that the things that the things you live on are not the same as the things you live for, the things that keep us cycling for decades have more to do with our motivations.  Some of them can be the spawn of rationales:  You might keep on riding because it's helping you to breathe or sleep better, or it's saving you money.  But I think that if we keep on riding from childhood into old age (even when other forms of transportation and exercise are available to us), the things that motivate us are not nearly so pragmatic.

The greatest motivator for me is, of course, that I love cycling.  I have not found any other activity that allows me to spread my wings and keep my feet on the ground at the same time:  I feel the exhiliaration of gliding through the city and country and a connection, if not entanglement, with the ground or the street under me.  And it frees my mind:  I sometimes find myself working through a problem or simply generating an idea that I couldn't when I was in my apartment or at my desk.

I suspect that most lifetime cyclists (or, at least, people who ride for as long as they are able) are spurred by the sort of motivation I've described.  A former partner once observed that for me, cycling is as much a spiritual or metaphysical experience as it is anything else.  The long ride I took every Saturday was, she said, "your equivalent of church".

Now, I'm not a very religious person, but I understood what she meant.  For me, cycling has always been expansive:  My mind is as free to move as my body is when I'm astride two wheels.

I must say, though, that not all of my thoughts are profound. (You know as much about me if you've been following this blog!)  Sometimes my mind plays, or I simply get giddy or silly.  But even in my most mirthful moments, I have never come up with the sort of riddle this creature is pondering:

Yes, I give him or her "props" for that.  But then again, he or she has had 40 million more years than I've had to come up with such a witticism!

Keeping Hermine At Bay

Sometimes I think meteorologists give us dire weather forecast for long holiday weekends out of resentment. After all, while the rest of us are having fun, they have to stare at computer screens or whatever else they have to look at to tell us The World As We Know It is about to end.

So it was for the weekend that just passed.  First Hurricane/Tropical Storm Hermine was supposed to land on our shores late Saturday afternoon. I figured I could do a ride to Point Lookout before then.

 For much of the day, that prediction seemed accurate:  Ominously dark clouds darkened the sky as the sea churned.  But--wonder of wonders--the clouds broke somewhat and the sun shone through.  So, instead of heading home from Rockaway Beach, I continued along the boardwalk and boulevard to Riis Park and Coney Island, and along the Verrazano Narrows promenade toward my apartment.

We got more or less the same forecast on Sunday:  Hermine in the afternoon.  So I thought I could sneak in a pre-lunch ride, say, to the Rockaways and back.

The weather belied the forecast:  With each mile I rode, the skies brightened, even as  the sea grew choppier and the wind stiffened.  I decided to "play chicken" with Hermine:  I would ride as if I could keep the rain at bay simply by riding.   After a while, I actually started to believe that I could!

Once again, I rode a good bit longer than I originally planned.  I was happy for that:  I did two good days of riding when, according to the weather forecasts, I should have had only one.

But Hermine was still rearing her head.   When I got home, I heard more dire predictions of her paying us a visit some time Monday, Labor Day.  Once again, I took a ride, hoping to get in a few kilometers (or miles) before the storm struck.  But I didn't "play chicken": I stuck with my plan to ride along the North Shore to Fort Totten, a two-hour round trip with a stop to enjoy the view at the Fort.

The rest of the day, though windier, was even brighter than the morning or the day before.  I had a few things to do, so I didn't go back out to ride.  Still, I was happy to have done three rides:  one long , one of medium length and a shorter one.  

Finally, the rain came this morning, just as I was about to go to work.  I lingered just long enough for another cup of tea, and to stroke my cats a few more times.  The rain passed, and I--almost without effort--more than made up for the time I procrastinated and arrived at work a few minutes earlier than I'd planned.

 


The next time someone asks you about the benefits of cycling, tell them that one cyclist (yours truly) "saved" Labor Day weekend:  She kept a hurricane away simply by riding! ;-)   

And to think we all can change so much more by cycling!

See How They Run: Choosing Your Fuel

Are you trying to convince someone (yourself?) to cycle rather than drive to work or school or wherever?

If you are, this might make your job a little easier:

Cute Infographics And Other Benefits Of Cycling

Throughout this blog, I've mentioned some of the many benefits of cycling.

This infographic depicts a few of them:

 


I have to admit:  I got a kick (pun intended!) out of "puts a big fat smile on your face', "gives you legs of steel" and "the Earth sends a little extra love to those on bicycles (this is scientifally documented)".


Another benefit of cycling is that you find all sorts of neat webpages with cute graphics.  On the same page (in Ecosalon) that featured the above graphic, I found this: 

Arriving In An Autumn Garden

One of the things I have always loved about cycling is that, even during and after the most routine rides, my senses are sharpened.  Food tastes better, my cats seem cuddlier and I see colors more vividly.

I was reminded of this when I got to work today.

That, in the garded in front of the administration building.  The ride in was otherwise unremarkable, save perhaps for the fact that I was once again "playing chicken with the rain."  I did encounter some drizzle on my way home, but I rather enjoyed it.  Perhaps it was an after-effect of seeing seeing a bright autumn garden at the end of my ride this morning.