We Need To Be Counted Because We Count

One of the reasons why underserved communities are underserved is that the folks who decide, for example, where to build schools or run bus lines don't know how many people are in those communities--or even that those communities exist.  Some of that has to do with members of those communities not making themselves know--for example, by not filling out census forms, for whatever reasons.  There is also a matter of the biases of the data-gatherers:  Some don't want to recognize members of such communities, but more often, they simply don't know where to look for them or how to count them.

So it is with cyclists.  While many American cities have found effective ways to gauge motor vehicle traffic, whether through "car counters" or other means, almost none have done even a rudimentary, let alone an accurate, count of bicyclists.  Worse yet, when we are counted, those tallies don't reflect where, when or for what purposes we ride. As an example, counts taken on bike lanes in central areas of cities will find commuters, while tallies taken on bike lanes leading out of those neighborhoods will find more recreational cyclists.  And if a bike census, if you will, depends on counts from bike share docking stations, yet another type of rider will be found.

A subtle bike counter. Photo by Christopher Porter,.

The problem is that jurisdictions that bother to count cyclists tend to use only one method to record riders.  The most common is volunteers stationed, with a clipboard and pen, in places where significant numbers of people ride.  I once was such a volunteer, for a day,  with Transportation Alternatives:  I stood on the Manhattan side of the Queensborough-59th Street Bridge and counted the cyclists and pedestrians (this was before motor scooters became popular)  descending from its ramp to First Avenue.  As diligent as I was, I am sure I missed riders or pedestrians.  Even if my count were completely accurate, I had to wonder how useful it would have been for anything but deciding whether to widen the bike lane--which would never happen.

As Kea Wilson points out in a recent Streetsblog article, cities need not only to start counting cyclists; they also need to employ a number of methods, including devices like the "car counters" many already employ and data from sources like Strava and even cell phone data. Although they, together, won't count 100 percent of riders --sometimes mechanical and electronic counters stop working or, if they're programmed to detect a certain level of speed, miss a cyclist who's riding faster than a bus-- they will do much to make us less under-countednand, more important, mis-counted, than we are now.  

Perhaps even more important, though, is a thoughtful analysis of the data collected.  Why are cyclists riding (or not)  where they're riding (or not)? Are they riding on one street rather than another, or instead of a nearby bike lane?  What are some of our common destinations?  Also, if a "census" is to be useful in improving bike safety, it needs to help in determining where crashes and injuries are most likely to occur.

Until cities and other jurisdictions start to make accurate counts of cyclists and assesments of how, where and why people ride (or don't), they won't build bicycle infrastructure or will continue to build more of the  poorly-designed, -constructed and -maintained bike lanes we too often see.

Update: Michigan And Jersey City

Today's post is a follow-up to two recent posts.

The cyclists who were killed in a Michigan charity ride, and the driver who ran them down, have been identified.  

On Saturday, Michael Salhaney of Bloomfield Hills, a Detroit suburb, posted a Facebook Live video telling his viewers that he faced a "tough day in the saddle":  112 miles through the middle of the state. Ann Arbor resident Edward Erickson was participating in the annual Make-A-Wish ride for the ninth time and, according to his participant website page, exceeded his fundraising goal of $3500.  He was riding on the team Salhaney captained.

From Edward Erickson's participant webpage.

"I hope we are able to ride together in 2022!" Erickson wrote.  He added that he was committed to raising money for Make-A-Wish Michigan to grant the wishes of children with critical illnesses.  "A wish replaces fear with confidence, sadness with joy and anxiety with hope.  And hope is essential for these courageous children, more than ever," he added.

Salhaney was a partner at a litigation law firm and a former prosecuting attorney at the Oakland County Prosecutor's Office.  It looks like his counterparts in Ionia County, where the ride ended for him and Erickson ended, are doing their job, so far:  Local resident Mandy Marie Benn has been arraigned and charged with two counts of operating while intoxicated causing death, operating a vehicle under the influence of a controlled substance, and a second notice of operating a vehicle while intoxicated.  She is being held on a $1 million bond in Ionia County jail.

I hope that Jersey City Council Member Amy De Gise is similarly held to account.  Two weeks ago, around 8 o'clock in the morning, she struck cyclist Andrew Black.  Although he caromed off the hood of her Nissan Rouge and his bike was trashed, he wasn't seriously hurt.  Still, De Gise continued on her way as if a pigeon ricocheted off her roof.  

A petition with around 5000 signatures calls for her resignation, which she resolutely refuses to do.  So far, she hasn't even acknowledged the hit-and-run incident.  It seems that she's been shielded, directly or indirectly, by her father:  Tom De Gise, the powerful longtime Hudson County Executive. 

I think that she should not only resign, she should also apologize and pay for any expenses Black has incurred (whether through medical costs, lost wages or his bike) from her own purse, not through some government insurance plan or slush fund. 

In the Michigan charity ride tragedy, three other cyclists, all men from the eastern part of the state, were injured. One is in critical condition but expected to recover; the other two were treated at a local hospital and released.  

Where Are Cyclists Most In Danger? On Stroads.

When a plane crashes, the first thing investigators look for is "pilot error."

When a motor vehicle crashes, the authorities ask questions like, "Was the driver intoxicated?  Was he or she texting?"

When a pedestrian is struck, the focus turns to matters like what the pedestrian was wearing.  Could he or she not be seen in the dark?

And when I crashed, the first things the police wanted to know were:  Was I wearing a helmet?  Was I following all relevant traffic laws?  Was I intoxicated?  ("Yes" to the first two questions; "No" to the third.)

In other words, when what are commonly called "accidents" occur, the first inclination of investigators is to look for "human error."  While some mishaps are indeed a result of drinking, texting or other distractions, or of carelessness, as often as not, the blame lies elsewhere.

Jessie Singer, the author of There Are No Accidents, offers this explanation:  We focus on individual blame because it makes it easier to believe that it couldn't happen to us.  As an example, I grew up in a place and time in which women and girls were blamed for getting raped:  If she hadn't been wherever she was whenever she was, wearing whatever she was, it wouldn't have happened to her. Or so people believed. But, as we all know, there are all sorts of situation in which someone "did everything right" and still suffered an "accident" or is somehow victimized.  

The problem with the focus on individual behavior, according to Singer, is that it prevents the structural changes necessary to prevent recurrences of crashes or other mishaps.  

Charles Marohn would agree.  He is an engineer who used to work on road design.  The most dangerous roads for everyone--but especially cyclists, pedestrians and the disabled--are what he calls "stroads":  thoroughfares that combine the worst traits of roads and streets.  Roads, he said, are designed to move people and vehicles from one place to another.  Well-designed roads, he explains, are usually wide, with lots of lanes and clear zones on either side to make driver errors less deadly. Streets, on the other hand, are places where people live, shop, eat and play.  The deadliest roads in America, like a stretch of US-19 on Florida's Gulf Coast, are what he would call "stroads": several lanes of high-speed traffic lined with big-box stores and other businesses that provide a steady stream of cars and trucks pulling in and out of those lanes.  

Of course, the design of such roads isn't the only reason why pedestrian and cyclist injuries and fatalities have increased:  Vehicles have grown bigger and, thus, deadlier.  But Singer and Marohn agree that re-designing roadways will do far more to improve safety for cyclists, pedestrians, people in wheelchairs--and drivers--than focusing solely on the behavior of people who use, or simply try to co-exist, with the road.  As evidence, they point out that the "hot spots" for cyclist and pedestrian fatalities and deaths are found in places as diverse as Port Ritchey, Florida (one of the communities through which US-19 passes), Langley Park, Maryland; Albuquerque, New Mexico; Los Angeles and Manhattan.  But nearly all of them have the kinds of "roads" or "stroads" Marohn warns against.