In Ray Bradbury’s 1951 short story The Pedestrian, Leonard Mead wanders alone through empty streets in a society where this simple act of walking is suspicious, abnormal, even dangerous. Mead lives in a world where people stay indoors, captivated by screens, insulated from physical reality. (You can read it here.)
On a literal level, The Pedestrian mirrors contemporary cities and suburbs. Even now, you can find social media posts of police stopping or detaining people because “why are you walking?” I’ve seen several terrible ones that involve parents being arrested in front of their kids for the transgressive behavior of arguing with police who insisted that someone walking in a car-dominant area must have something sinister to hide.
Beyond physical infrastructure, The Pedestrian holds up because of its prediction of a screen-immersed society willing to be calmed and subdued by entertainment. Even dry information is delivered in entertaining ways (e.g. driving directions spoken by Arnold Schwarzenegger). Bradbury’s citizens are isolated by their televisions, unaware of life beyond their glowing screens. The story makes clear that detachment from the physical world dulls curiosity and encourages conformity. That’s not so foreign, is it? Nonconformity, whether choosing to unplug from digital life or rejecting car dependency carries social penalties.
Today’s acceptance of automobile dominance is largely defended, despite its massive negative outcomes on the built environment, public health, financial health, and daily life. Think of the pushback on efforts to legalize small homes or more than one land use on a street. Or the primal screams of outrage at the suggestion that the government stop mandating parking spaces.
Motordom is so tightly woven into the fabric of the American identity and economy that pitching alternatives is received as absurd. I see it on social media all the time—like the robotic enforcer in The Pedestrian, reply-guys hop into the comments of anyone challenging conventional wisdom. They do their part to reinforce conformity rather than being just a wee bit curious why these norms persist.
Things are getting better, slowly and suddenly. People are learning from and being inspired by groups like Congress for the New Urbanism and Strong Towns, and issues-based movements like YIMBY or parking reform. I’m hopeful about the future for us pedestrians, out touching grass, experiencing the freedom and joy of going for a stroll, unfiltered by glass screens or windshields.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got internet work to do.
Not sure if you’ve seen Mad Men, but this reminds me of when Betty Draper’s friend is unnerved by how their neighbor (a recently moved in divorcee) goes walking all the time — for fun! She just can’t understand why she does it!
Interesting post, btw!
Love this! I think Bradbury does a great job characterizing the psychological discomfort you can feel walking in places where everyone else uses a car. Especially in places with bad pedestrian routes it can feel super eerie even in the daytime