I lived in Siena, Italy for a summer… a really long time ago at this point.
There are a few memories that still feel vivid after all these years, but perhaps none more so than my morning walk.
I took classes in an old building near the center of the city, Piazza del Campo, and in one of the northern districts. It was only a six minute walk, done brisky, but who would want to rush it? Most days, I would put headphones in… something along the lines of Sigur Ros, and take in the whole setting like it was a movie.
Every pizzeria. Every sculpture that had survived centuries.
The same faces I saw each time. The two nuns who always walked together. The guy with the chow-chow.
It did feel like the opening number of Beauty and the Beast just a bit. And I felt really in love with life.
The following year, I lived in Argentina.
Buenos Aires has an extensive subway system. It’s frequently packed to the brim and isn’t really celebrated by culture the way other transit systems are, but it functions well enough to take you anywhere around the greater Buenos Aires area, which is pretty expansive.
I loved it. Being able to emerge at any given point in an endlessly fascinating city and discover new things was a treat. Most times, the commute itself was good. My 20 minute journeys were perfect for doing some reading. I finished the whole Harry Potter series in Spanish, which was actually pretty good for language learning.
•••
In between Italy and Argentina was student life in Santa Barbara.
There my daily commute was all about the bike. I went from beach cruiser to hybrid, knowing that every gap between classes was a chance to feel a good breeze on my face, to breathe ocean air, and to be a little more outdoors.
•••
All of it– walking around Siena, biking around Santa Barbara, or taking the train around Buenos Aires, are better than what most places have: driving everywhere.
The more I’ve seen and thought about it, the more I find myself at odds with car dependency.
First, there’s the social isolation. The opposite of the energy I felt in Siena. It’s far too easy to go from a climate controlled home, into a metal shell of a car, then to an insulated office… picking up drive-thru food along the way, keeping interactions to a total minimum. I get that extroversion isn’t everyone’s thing, but this imbalance can’t be healthy.
Speaking of health, there’s another big factor. Walking is really, really good for you. And we’ve eliminated so much of the walking most humans have done throughout history from our daily routines. Of course, you’ll always want to accommodate those who can’t, but at this point, we’ve made it hard to walk places… even if you want to.
Also… vehicles are just deadly. It’s one of the highest causes of death for younger people, which often gets taken for granted because it’s been normalized. But it’s absolutely preventable.
•••
At scale, reducing car dependency will not only save pedestrian lives, but all kinds of life, in the form of climate mitigation. About a quarter of greenhouse gasses are created by the transportation sector, 3/4ths of which come from road transit.
At a time where the mass upscale of every climate solution is needed, I get especially excited about creating cities that are less car dependent as a solution… largely because I know the benefits extend far beyond the climate.
Cities where people don’t spend their days shelled off from one another in cars are more vibrant. Instead of seeing strip malls filled with the same combination of chain retailers over and over, you’re more likely to see beloved local businesses claim their space and thrive. Instead of spending large portions of one’s life sitting in traffic, one can read, think, or be a little bit more mindful of the world around.
A world with fewer cars would be great for the environment. But the place to start would be to reduce car dependency. Give people options. Make the cost accessible. See what happens.
In Siena, Buenos Aires, and the campus of UCSB, cars were options. Just not all that desirable compared to the alternative.
Recently, I read a tweet along the lines of:
People will think of college as the best time of their life; really, it’s just the only time in their life they’ll get to live in a walkable community.
There’s something to that thought.
A highlight from that era of my life was living in the same square mile as my closest friends, being able to visit each other spontaneously on foot, bike, or longboard. Along the way, you never knew who you might bump into. Oftentimes, a very good mutual friend who decides to also come along for the visit.
I think of an old favorite coffee shop where I could just go when bored, because there was a good chance friends would visit. Seemed like the kind of thing that only happened on TV shows… but walkable cities make an impact.
•••
Even if you’re not stopping to talk for 20 minutes with every single familiar face on a regular morning walk, I still think there’s enough value in the fact that those faces are familiar. “Weak ties,” or perhaps in this case, “extremely flimsy ties” still play a significant role in someone’s sense of belonging and relationships.
It’s also probable that in today’s world of screens, social divisions, and stereotypes dominating conversations, we could all stand to see each other a little more. Like, literally seeing each other.
•••
When it’s all that you’ve lived with, it’s easy to accept it as “normal” that you need to drive to get anywhere. It’s easy to never imagine things differently.
When you do finally encounter it, it’s easy to think of it as an exception. Just one thing that makes *insert European tourist hotspot here* magical.
But even those spots weren’t always like that. Amsterdam was quite car dependent in the 1970s. Paris wasn’t a big bike haven until three years ago.