Checking My Bias on Automated Traffic Enforcement
An important part of the internal Strong Towns culture is a dedication to checking our personal biases. We have a diverse and growing movement working to bridge differences in the complex and politically charged world of city building. If we are to communicate radical ideas and insights to broad swaths of North America—and that is what we are trying to do—then we need to help each other critically examine our own assumptions.
I don’t want my ignorance of a sensitivity I do not have, or am not familiar with, to limit my exploration of ideas or impair my ability to communicate critical thoughts. I model this mindset to the Strong Towns team by engaging with thoughtful critiques. My colleagues broadly have adopted the same approach. We all care deeply about this project and so, with a spirit of generosity, we actively invite each other to assist an exploration our own blind spots.
Last week, we ran an article and a podcast about automated speed cameras. Summary: I’m not a fan, but my lack of support for these devices is not the traditional anti-taxation or anti-big-brother kind of argument that comes from some conservative or libertarian circles. Put simply, I don’t think speed cameras provide the benefits proponents believe they do. I also think they postpone more urgent reforms, allowing those who resist street modifications to hold to the incorrect belief that all redesign solutions must be slow and expensive.
Some of my language was strong, even extreme. For example, I suggested that there was no place for automated enforcement in a solution to street safety issues. I’ll acknowledge that is a stronger statement than is warranted, and it was questioned by people here internally. It was also questioned externally in a thoughtful critique by Brenden Cline. The entire thread is worth reading, but these four tweets questioned my blind spots in ways I found interesting.
I had not heard of the “Rhetoric of Reaction,” and so I looked into it. Wikipedia had a summary of Hirschman’s book, laying out three “reactionary narratives.” Being honest with myself, I see validity in this critique.
The “futility thesis” is one of those narratives. It suggests that the action is futile because it won’t make a dent in the problem. My suggestion that reducing the number of people going 11 mph over the speed limit by 30% is an example of this. I made that assertion, and it did annoy people, which was confusing to me. On the Strong Towns Podcast, I suggested that reducing speeds from 100 mph to 90 mph was superficial because you are dead either way. Suggesting this holds true for a reduction from 46 mph to 45 mph is, I acknowledge, not universal.
Transit expert (and good guy) Jarret Walker said that people who advocate for speed cameras are not “saying that speed cameras are a silver bullet or the only solution.” I can see how conservative-minded people (of which I am one) use the futility approach to stall actions they don’t support. Is that what I’m doing? Perhaps. I am fairly convinced that actions short of going out and physically changing the geometry of the street are superficial. Could I acknowledge if it were otherwise?
The “perversity thesis” suggests that I might be putting forth a reactionary argument based on the unfounded belief that cameras will make the problem worse. I have made the assertion that cameras don’t increase speeding but that cameras, especially if improperly implemented, will make things more dangerous. I do believe that. Is it because it’s true or because I’m predisposed to want to believe it?
The third of Hirschman’s reactionary narratives is the “jeopardy thesis,” an assertion that the cost of change is too high because it endangers a prior accomplishment. I certainly have done this by suggesting that speed cameras are an evolutionary dead end, one that takes the zeal of the reformer and deflects it away from where it should be—changing the geometry of streets and pressuring for reform within public works departments—to something easier and, ultimately, less effective.
So, I recognize the applicability of Hirschman’s narrative to my analysis. It doesn’t invalidate it (and I don’t think it is automatically supposed to) but I can see where it is a trap that reactionaries get into.
The Wikipedia article suggests a response to this set of reactionary biases. The first is to acknowledge that there are dangers and risks in both action and inaction. “The risks of both should be canvassed, assessed, and guarded against to the extent possible.” That is sound advice.
Let me say that I think it is possible to develop a speed camera program that would improve safety, so I would love to engage with people who are serious about doing that. And honestly assessing results. I’m not seeing that in the current approaches, but Brendon Cline alludes to a program that sounds better than those I have encountered.
Finally, Wikipedia suggests that the book spends a chapter on progressive biases. I’m not going to poison an article spent considering the beam of my own blind spots by pointing out the sliver of those who disagree with me, but I will note that the entire progressive-minded advocacy around speed cameras fits these three narratives, which Hirschman regards as simplistic and flawed.
The “synergy illusion”—the idea that all reforms work together and reinforce each other, rather than being competing—is a key part of asserting that a traffic camera installed in one spot will change behavior in another.
The assertion of “imminent danger”—that urgent action is necessary to avoid imminent danger—is probably the leading narrative used by advocates. Even thoughtful people like Jarrett Walker use language like “systematic massacre” to describe the level of urgency.
Finally, the belief that “history is on our side” drives a lot of the self-righteous indignation I have encountered. Good-versus-evil thinking has dominated the replies to me on this issue. It’s hard to believe that isn’t a widespread blind spot among its proponents.
We all have blind spots. I’ll acknowledge that I’m predisposed to doubt assertions that automated cameras are effective. That does frame my thinking on this, which is a fair thing to call out.
Charles Marohn (known as “Chuck” to friends and colleagues) is the founder and president of Strong Towns and the bestselling author of “Escaping the Housing Trap: The Strong Towns Response to the Housing Crisis.” With decades of experience as a land use planner and civil engineer, Marohn is on a mission to help cities and towns become stronger and more prosperous. He spreads the Strong Towns message through in-person presentations, the Strong Towns Podcast, and his books and articles. In recognition of his efforts and impact, Planetizen named him one of the 15 Most Influential Urbanists of all time in 2017 and 2023.