A Few Thoughts on Traffic, Buddhism, and Group Think

OK, so I'm about nine and a half years behind the curve. A few months ago, while reading through defective yeti's archives, I read this, which links to this, an analysis of traffic flow patterns based on the analogy of fluid dynamics, written by an electrical engineer named William Beaty. I can already see your eyes glaze over as you slide over toward that back button. I know, I know: "Traffic analysis and the physics of liquid? Is he serious? And this is the guy who made fun of his brother for watching city council meetings on community access cable? What happened to the pregnant chick and impending baby stories?" And this right after a post about local politics that even my own wife groaned over and refused to finish reading. If you're good, I'll throw you a couple of baby bones at the end.

But hear me out: this article changed my life! That's right. Changed. My. Life.

OK, it changed my driving life, but I was trying to get you all excited there. I know you're not going to read it, so allow me to summarize: a single driver can't really improve his own traffic situation, but he can improve the situation of those coming behind him. The best thing any driver can do to improve a heavy traffic situation is to leave a large following distance between himself and the car in front of him, even in slow-moving traffic. So I've been doing exactly that. I have no idea if it's improved anything for the schlubs 5 five miles behind me, but it's improved my own situation immensely.

How? Instant Buddhism, baby! I, like everybody else, have always hated traffic, hated all the rest of you bastards out there slowing me down, and have done everything I could to succeed in the twice-a-day competition that is driving to and from work. I've cursed you and flipped you off for cutting me off. I've pulled up close to the car in front of me to keep you from getting in front of me. I've roared my engine as I passed angrily on the left and the right (though never on the shoulder; everybody's got their own moral line in the sand, after all).

But now, simply by accepting before I start that I will maintain a long gap between me and the car ahead of me, I am no longer competing with the rest of you jerks. I know that you will get in front of me, because that is precisely the point, and bam! I'm knee-deep in Buddhist non-grasping! The stress is gone. The anxiety is gone. The commute doesn't seem as long. Sweet!

So how does the gap work and why is people getting in front of you precisely the point? Well, you could read the article, but you won't. Frankly, I'm amazed you're even still reading this. So again, I'll summarize for you: the gap does a couple of things. It allows you to smooth out the stop-and-go, accelerate-decelerate of heavy traffic, and it eases the back-ups caused by people having to stop or slow down to make a lane change for an exit or for a lane that ends. Essentially, allowing the free flow of traffic between lanes improves the free flow of traffic within lanes.

Mrs. Rodius hasn't embraced my Buddhist outlook, though. She sometimes tells me, "Look at that guy riding up on the right. He knew that lane was ending; he just wants to get ahead. Don't let him in!" And sometimes I get caught up in that competitive fever and close up the gap on the guy because I just don't like the looks of him. But usually, I just let it go.

What do other drivers think of my philosophy? I usually get three reactions. People give me the thank you wave as they get in front of me. People slam on the gas and jump in quick before I come to my senses. People behind me squeal their tires and gesticulate angrily as they rush to get from directly behind me to directly in front of me because that gap? It just! Ain't! Right! I guess for some people, the gap blinds them to the fact that I'm actually going the same speed as the car in front of me. Drivers abhor a vacuum as much as Nature does.

That's what I think is fascinating about traffic: the imperative it creates for competitive action. Mass transit culture in Boston was completely different, though driving in Boston was exactly the same and even worse. People on buses and subways have a certain head-down, trudging resignation about them (a resignation I used to think of as evidence of the death of the soul), and even sometimes a tendency towards cooperative action. I think it's because the walls between us are literally removed and the space between is literally closed. When you are shoulder-to-shoulder with your fellow travellers, it's harder to shove past them to beat them onto the bus, especially when there's a pretty good chance you'll be standing nose-to-nose with them when the bus doors close. And sometimes, selfish actions are met with cooperative punitive action on the part of the crowd: they'll close up ranks to block your path; they'll verbally chastise you; they'll give you the corrective glare. Put every man in a car to himself, though, and cooperative action goes out the window, along with the spit and the cigarette butts.

So won't you join me please in the culture of the gap? Will you not now wave the drivers in, even the jerky ones? Let us make this a better traffic world, if not for ourselves, then for those that will come after. Peace be with you (and also with you).

OK, so you made it to the end. Here's your pregnant chick and impending baby update: the OB said everything's fine, and everything will start moving soon, but it hasn't yet. Mrs. Rodius and I are going today to a "meet and greet" with a potential pediatrician. I ordered $420 worth of Reusable Infant Waste Containment System this week. If you're in the market for cloth diapers, I highly recommend Bree's Bums. Bree is a hard-working young mother who gives excellent customer service. And cloth diapers all have such cute brand names. We're going not with the Kissaluvs or the Huggabunz, but with the Bum Genius. In assorted boy colors.