Traffic Read Online Free PDF

person who keeps driving with their right turn signal on actually going to turn or have they forgotten it’s still blinking? Unfortunately, there’s no way to ask the driver what they mean. This may lead to a rhetorical outburst: “Are you going to turn or not?” But you can’t ask; nor would there be a way to get an answer back. Frustrated by our inability to talk, we gesture violently or honk—a noise the offending driver might misinterpret. At some point you may have been the recipient of an unsolicited honk, to which you immediately responded with defensive anger—
What?!
—only to learn that the honker was trying to convey to you that you left your gas cap open.
Thanks! Have a good one!
    Traffic is riddled with such “asymmetries” in communication, as Jack Katz, a sociologist at the University of California in Los Angeles and the author of
How Emotions Work,
describes them. “You can see but you can’t be heard,” he told me. “In a very precise way, you’re made dumb. You can shout as much as you want but nobody’s going to hear you.”
    Another way to think about this “asymmetry” is that while you can see a lot of other drivers making mistakes, you are less likely to see yourself doing so. (A former mayor of Bogotá, Colombia, had a wonderful solution to this, hiring mimes to people the city’s crosswalks and silently mock drivers and pedestrians who violated traffic laws.) Drivers also spend much of their time in traffic looking at the rear ends of other cars, an activity culturally associated with subordination. It also tends to make the communication one-way: You’re looking at a bunch of drivers who cannot see you. “It’s like trying to talk to someone who’s walking in front of you, as opposed to someone who’s face-to-face with you,” Katz says. “We’re looking at everybody’s rear, and that’s not how human beings were set up to maximize their communicative possibility.”
    This muteness, Katz argues, makes us mad. We are desperate to say something. In one study, in-car researchers pretended to be measuring the speed and distance perception of drivers. What they were really interested in was how their subjects would react to a honk from another driver. They made this happen by giving subjects instructions as they paused at a stop sign. They then had an accomplice pull up behind the stalled car and honk. More than three-quarters of the drivers reacted verbally, despite the fact they would not be heard by the honker.
    When a driver is cut off by another driver, the gesture is read as rude, perhaps hostile. There is no way for the offending driver to indicate that it was anything but rude or hostile. Because of the fleeting nature of traffic, the act is not likely to be witnessed by anyone else. No one, save perhaps your passenger, will shake their heads in unison with you and say, “Can you believe he did that?” There are at least two possible responses. One is to speed ahead and cut the offending driver off in turn, to “teach them a lesson.” But there is no guarantee that the person receiving the lesson is aware of what they have done—and so your lesson simply becomes a provocation—or that they will accept your position as the “teacher” in any case. And even if your lesson is successful, you’re not likely to receive any future benefit. Another response is to use an “informal” traffic signal, like the middle finger (or, as is gaining currency in Australia, the pinkie, after an ad campaign by the Road and Traffic Authority to suggest that the person speeding or otherwise driving aggressively is overcompensating for deficient male anatomy). This gains power, Katz says, if the person you give the finger to visually registers that you’re giving him the finger. But what if that person merely gives the finger back?
    Finally, it is often impossible to even send a message to the offending driver in the first place. Yet still we get visibly mad, to an audience of no