Crash course

The conflict is all too clear: The swerving, ducking, half- and full-on collisions — a daily occurrence on the paths of our school — are a testament to it. Clusters of walkers fan out along paths, leaving speeding bikers slamming on brakes or awkwardly rolling along behind them. Cyclists come zooming around corners, causing the freshmen on the other side to fling themselves out of harm’s way. Anarchy reigns! No student feels safe, whether on two feet, two wheels — or anything else. Fortunately, there is a solution to this struggle, a solution that lies in the hands (or the feet) of the walkers.

Our University provides a unique battleground for these two parties to engage, with narrow paths, blind corners, random posts and innumerable stairs. These, combined with the peak-hour rushes that occur after the 50th minute of every hour, guarantee a spectacle: students shoulder to shoulder, streaming between buildings, with hapless bikers weaving in and out of crowds. The setting is perfect for rising tempers, apparent slights and some serious path-rage.

We’ve all had times when we’ve cussed out a biker or a pedestrian (at least in our heads) for their perceived transgressions. And why shouldn’t we feel this way? As a walker, shouldn’t we be able to get to our economics precept without feeling like Simba in the ravine? And as bikers, shouldn’t we be able to make it to our afternoon practice on time without feeling like we’re competing in the Super G? It’s thoughts like this that fuel the continual rift between these two groups.

What this problem really comes down to, then, is a sense of entitlement. As bikers, we feel that our high speeds and limited handling guarantee us precedence. Similarly, as pedestrians, we think that this campus was made for walkers, and that the cyclists should just deal with it. These are two seemingly irreconcilable attitudes — a gap that at times can be dangerous. There have been several accidents as a result of this disconnect in just the short time that I’ve been here.

While fault lies on both sides of this issue, pedestrians have the greater power for good and evil here. They offer the easiest fix to the problem for three key reasons.

First, walkers constitute the majority of traffic on campus. This rather common-sense statement is nevertheless central to our debate. The more particles (or people) there are, the more likely there is to be a collision. Physics and stuff. But if all of those particles adopted habits to avoid the collisions, not only would kinetic theory go to pot, but there would be a huge reduction in crashes.

Second, walkers have greater mobility than their biker counterparts. It is much easier for a pedestrian to step to the side or walk around a tight corner than it is for a cyclist traveling at a greater speed and on things with as little traction as wheels. When it comes to a head-to-head engagement, the pedestrian has the greater power to alleviate any possible run-in by moving.

Finally, and most importantly, walkers are significantly more likely to be inattentive or distracted. With gizmos like cell phones (how many times have you seen someone texting with their head down while strolling down the middle of a path?) and iPods (music doesn’t go a very long way toward letting you know about that group of bikers about to fly past you), pedestrians are constantly blindsiding themselves. Not only that, but groups of friends on foot often spread like an electron cloud, creating impassible moving walls.

Even if the walkers heed my advice, this issue is still a two-way street. Both bikers and pedestrians have a responsibility to themselves and to one another to pay attention to their surroundings and try to accommodate all Princetonians. If everyone just focuses some more, I’m sure that it will make all of our trips from Rocky to McCosh, Butler to East Pyne, or even Forbes to the E-Quad (ouch, maybe not) that much better.

Nathan Mathabane is a sophomore from Portland, Ore. He can be reached at nmathaba@princeton.edu.