Why I’m Not a Bike Advocate

[ornoth_cycling]

I’ve been a passionate and dedicated cyclist for the past 15 years. Although I’ve been interested and active in issues relating to cycling in Boston, I do not consider myself a “cycling advocate” in any way. And there are very real reasons for that.

The City of Boston has had a cycling coordinator for nearly those entire 15 years. Over that time, I’ve learned that 95 percent of cycling advocacy is about promoting cycling and getting more people out on bikes.

To some degree, that makes sense. More riders on the street means drivers will be more aware of cyclists in general. And more people who identify as riders means more political power and more empathy from the overall community toward cyclists. Those are all important.

But expanding the numbers of cyclists also has negative consequences.

One negative is that unexperienced and unskilled riders are inherently dangerous. A novice on a bicycle is rightfully regarded as the most unpredictable person on the roadway.

Their presence makes my rides more dangerous. It doesn’t matter that they’re using the same kind of vehicle as me. Even more than most automobile drivers, I don’t want to add a bunch of oblivious, unpredictable bike riders to an already difficult mix of road users.

Furthermore, drivers aren’t going to differentiate between novices and proficient riders, so they’ll deride all cyclists as unpredictable and incapable of sharing the road safely. I don’t need an influx of novices making drivers more antagonistic toward me than they already are.

Like many American cities, Boston’s attitude toward cycling has changed dramatically in the past 20 years. For the first time in a century, we have the political capital to affect structural change. However, that capital is not being directed toward making conditions better for cyclists, but toward the creation of expensive facilities that are designed exclusively for novices: people who aren’t even cyclists yet!

I’m not arguing against the creation of recreational paths, but I’ve also blogged about the fact that the cycling facilities which have been implemented to date are the most dangerous possible places for someone to ride a bike.

Most concerning is the fervor with which cycling advocates have latched onto the idea of “cycle tracks” as a way of allaying the fears of novices by separating them from the roadway. Most people—drivers especially!—would be eager to move all cyclists to separate facilities, so that they’ll be out of the way. Which means that cycle tracks are the first step in banning cyclists from using the roads that our taxes pay for. And that is completely unacceptable.

The preoccupation with nurturing new riders wouldn’t be anywhere near so problematic if it weren’t our cycling advocates’ only ambition. As a longtime cyclist, I feel completely shut out of cycling advocacy, which ironically wants to put all its energy into creating facilities and programs that cater to people who are not, in fact, cyclists; they’re only potential cyclists! Meanwhile, those of us who have spent years out on the road receive zero benefit from the work of advocates who have no interest in helping people who already participate in cycling.

I would love to see more resources devoted to making our cities and towns better not only for neophytes, but for our experienced cyclists, and for the experienced cyclists that this vast army of newbies might someday become. Who is working to ensure that our roads stay open to cyclists? Who is spearheading the debate about the wisdom and safety of the Idaho Stop? Who is working to fix the disadvantaged position of cyclists in the legal system, where motorists are never held responsible in car-bike collisions?

Sadly, you won’t find cycling advocates working on any of the issues that are important to experienced riders. Why not? Because they’re too busy pandering to people who are too scared to actually ride a bicycle.

But there’s a more sinister element to all this, as well. There’s an attitude amongst novices that experienced riders have stonewalled efforts to popularize cycling by making nice, safe bikeways that are separated from the actual roadway. Attend any cycling advocacy group, and you will be shocked to learn that there is just as much rancor directed at experienced riders as there is toward automobiles. The phrase “Roadies suck!” is a widely-espoused attitude throughout “cycling” advocacy groups.

Am I a cycling advocate? Only in the sense that I encourage people to ride, and I care about cycling infrastructure and defending cyclists’ rights. But despite that, I find that as an experienced rider I have neither a voice nor a role nor representation in the organizations that proudly proclaim themselves champions of “cycling advocacy”.

So I will sit silently on the sidelines and wait for the inevitable shakeout, when most of the neophytes will put their bikes up on Craigslist. But a minority of them will grow up to become dedicated, long-term cyclists, with opinions informed by real-world experience about how advocacy could improve conditions for actual cyclists, rather than potential ones.