The federal American Rescue Plan will allow transit agencies to fill their budget holes for the short-term to keep running service as the country starts the recovery from the pandemic. But transit advocates shouldn’t declare victory yet; the long-term funding problem isn’t solved and restoring service isn’t as simple as it sounds.
The pace of returning service varies across transit agencies in part because agencies have been running different levels of their pre-COVID service throughout the pandemic. Different levels are likely due to the percent of pre-COVID service at peak, pandemic ridership, funding, and employee availability.
- The MBTA announced that they are budgeting for full bus and rapid transit service in FY22 (which starts July 1) and working to restore some service sooner. They are currently operating 86% of service.
- The San Francisco MTA said the federal funding buys time, but it’s essential to find new sources of ongoing operating funds to move beyond 85% service restoration by January 2022. Service is currently at 70%.
- LA Metro has been running 80% of pre-COVID service and promised full bus service restoration by September 2021.
- King County Metro in Seattle is running about 85% of service now and their 2021-22 adopted budget funds a return to pre-COVID service levels by the end of 2022. They are planning a significant increase in September 2021.
A key logistical challenge to restoring service will be hiring and training operators. Before COVID many transit agencies were struggling to hire bus operators, there are normal attrition rates of operators even without the additional stress of working through a pandemic, and likely most agencies slowed or stopped their training programs for financial and safety reasons.
Having the funds to run service is not the same as knowing what service to run. Transit service is both a dependent and independent variable in travel patterns. Frequent service is needed to get people to come back to transit, but agencies don’t know yet how travel patterns have changed independent of their service levels. This means that, even with service restored, the service distribution is likely going to have to change over the next few years as our communities recover from COVID.
It is also important to remember that many transit agencies set lower crowding standards and shifted their service to respond to ridership. So getting back to 100% of pre-COVID service doesn’t mean all pre-COVID service, unless that additional service on routes serving essential workers is cut back. For the MBTA, as an example, this might mean that they should aim for over 100% of pre-COVID bus service and remain at less than 100% on ferry and commuter rail.
Service changes are hard, but necessary to align service with demand. So let’s all commit right now that we know there will need to be service changes over the next few years and that agencies and communities can work through them collaboratively.
These changes are also likely going to align in some cases with agencies running out of the third allotment of federal funding. Especially if fare revenue doesn’t completely recover, agencies are going to need new sustainable and progressive sources of funding. Without new funding there will likely have to be service cuts; even with new sources of funding service changes will likely mean some reductions in service where demand hasn’t returned.
We should pivot from the discussion of restoring pre-COVID service to envisioning what data, processes, and trust we will need to get sustainable funding sources and to rebuild more equitable transit networks.
Before I left the MBTA I made a powerpoint slide (one of hundreds I made over 6 years) for my last Board presentation and on it I wrote, “ Our commitment is that service at the end of the recovery will be more equitable than before COVID”. At the MBTA Board meeting this week the General Manager reaffirmed this commitment.
Hopefully other transit agencies are also currently making this commitment, or being pushed to make this commitment. The Biden Administration is putting transportation central in their equity agenda. The additional federal funds for transit as part of the American Rescue Plan should stave off service cuts for the short-term, but that doesn’t guarantee service will be ‘more equitable.’ All of this begs the question, what is ‘more equitable’ and how should it be decided, measured, and implemented?
The existing official measure of equity for transit service is a Title VI (of the 1964 Civil Rights Act) equity analysis. The current (2012) Federal Transit Administration Title VI circular sets a process for performing an analysis that measures the equity of changes off the current conditions. This, unfortunately, assumes that the current conditions are equitable. To make service ‘more equitable’, we (agencies and the community) need to acknowledge the ways that the existing service (pre-COVID) is inequitable. This accounting of past, and current, inequitable policies and practices is necessary to build trust between agencies and communities, and to establish the real baseline off which to measure equity improvements.
Researchers, advocates, and transit agencies have been working for years to develop new ways to measure equity that better approximate equity in access (transportation’s central function). There are numerous versions of access to opportunity measures that, for example, look at the number of destinations people in different neighborhoods can reach in a time budget. The MBTA is working on a competitiveness measure that is based off the idea that transit users should have a trip that is ‘competitive’ with car users making the same trip (adding the component of trip quality).
After equity is defined and measured, the results of the analysis have to be translated into changes to the transit network (in space) and levels of service (in time) within the very real context of an operating budget, vehicle, and labor constraints. The MBTA already made equity positive changes to respond to different ridership levels by route during the pandemic. There are more than 20 bus routes with more service than before the pandemic to meet social distancing crowding standards. It would be ‘more equitable’ to keep all or some of this additional service on these routes serving low-income communities of color after the need for social distancing recedes. However, that means the MBTA will need to keep other bus routes running with less service, shift funds from other modes, or receive additional operating resources above those needed to replace their lost fare revenue for the considerable future. (And, of course, work with cities to keep prioritizing buses on streets to make service more efficient.)
Even with the additional federal funds, there are necessary (and hard) decisions facing transit agencies on how to rebuild. More equitable also means decision-making using a collaborative process. Now is the time for realistic conversations between transit riders, advocates, and agencies about how to account for the past, define and measure equity, and make service changes.
Please join me (or let me join you) in making these conversations happen1. Putting all of the service back exactly how it was before COVID is not equitable. To respond to the overlapping crises of public health, economic inequality, and racial injustice we have to rebuild our transit networks as a foundation for a more equitable recovery.
1 If you actually look at the powerpoint slide in question you will see I suggested a simple metric for ‘more equitable’ as measured by percent of service hours serving minority and low-income populations. It is a starting place for a conversation.
In Part 4, I discussed some ideas for agency insiders to democratize their technical power and value experiential knowledge. In my theory of change, organizers outside are critical to changing government agencies’ policies and practices. Often people on the inside need political support from the outside to push change. And more importantly, most priorities for changes should come from impacted communities.
I decided to study transportation after I moved to Atlanta, Georgia without a car. One afternoon during my rail to bus transfer, I met members of a grassroots transit riders’ group passing out fliers at a MARTA station. They were in my neighborhood organizing riders to make the transit system work better for them. I went to their next meeting and for the next five years I would use what I was learning in grad school to provide technical support to Atlanta organizations with low-income, of color, and disabled leaders organizing transit riders and workers. I also became a person who transit insiders called when they needed something said they couldn’t say publicly themselves without risk. I supported a joint day of action in 2010 organized by the transit agency, the employee union, and a transit advocate organization (all groups led by Black women) that successfully pressured the Georgia legislature to make a needed change to save transit service levels.
A convergence of leadership, governance structure, and historical moment led to such public collaboration at this high level of an agency. However, the central tenet remains constant: change-makers inside and outside of the agency building power-with each other. In power-with change making, developing a common understanding of the role each plays in the partnership is necessary to achieve the shared goal.
In her book The Purpose of Power, Alicia Garza, one of the founders of Black Lives Matter, defines organizing as building relationships so that together you can build power to change the conditions hurting your community. She makes sure to point out that a condition of success is changing the relationships of power so that it is held by many instead of few (pg 56). I call power held by many ‘power-with’ and power held by few ‘power-over’. (Terms I picked up in a Women’s Studies class as an undergraduate.)
I have observed how effectively building relationships with people inside government agencies can help outside organizers push change. Internal change-makers can provide information that is hidden, sometimes on purpose, from the outside; can explain the complexity around problems; and can identify leverage or decision points. Insiders can do the creative problem-solving internally to find a way to implement changes. They can champion changes sought by communities.
The challenge is how to build those relationships using power-with tactics within the overall power-over system that internal change-makers work in. The circumstances vary on how much internal change-makers can build power internally. They are working in a system where others have power-over them. Sometimes insiders are putting their livelihood at risk when they collaborate with outside organizers, so relationships require trust.
This is not to let people in the public sector, especially in leadership positions, off the hook, but to say that we need the creative tension of accountability and support. Using this tension to make change requires understanding the role that individuals play in bureaucracies. Decisions are made by individuals in the context of systems and political structures. Individuals in systems need to be held accountable for the decisions within their purview and must be supported so they can take risks.
Instead of criticizing individuals (or organizations) for not making decisions they don’t have the power alone to make, outside organizers should work to build the conditions where, either that individual has that power (political cover), or that power is more widely held. Identifying where in the system decisions can be made, and illuminating what or who is preventing those decisions, allows organizers to hold government to account while maintaining trust in the institutions of government that are working within the existing system of power. (A corollary to this principle is that trying to hold institutions to account for decisions they can’t make, or positions they can’t take, can undermine those institutions in the eyes of the public.)
Accountability is two-sided. Internal change-makers should also be asking what makes their potential outside partners accountable and to whom. In transportation there tend to be advocate organizations that have experiential expertise and those that specialize in technical expertise. The authority of organizations with experiential expertise comes from their legitimacy with the communities they represent. For organizations based on technical expertise there is a tendency to base their legitimacy on the power of their ideas. However, this can set up a power-over dynamic where the argument becomes about whose ideas are better, instead of how to collaboratively make change based on shared goals.
Organizers with access to power can use the tools of power-over to try to force change, but that comes at a cost and does not build relationships. No matter who uses power-over techniques they still replicate the systems of inequality, even if organizers ‘win’ in the short-term. In my personal experience, organizations that are rooted in communities historically without power and led by women and people of color are well-versed in power-with tactics. I assume this is due to their lack of access to power-over decision-makers, and because people who have had power wielded over them are less likely to replicate these tactics. The movement to create a better world is practicing the world we want.
I wish that the public didn’t have to organize themselves to change how government operates and treats them. Government should exist to solve problems and improve the lives of everyone. But we have to start with the reality of the power-over world we live in. Making sustained change will require dedicated organizers inside and outside of government working collaboratively to build power-with each other in large and small ways.
As I mentioned in Part 2 my theory of change at government agencies is that usually it requires people inside and outside agencies working collaboratively or at least pushing in the same direction. A key contribution from people inside is working to democratize their power.
The first book I checked out of the library after quitting my job (and had time to read again) was Max Weber’s The Theory of Social and Economic Organization. I wanted to go back to the theory on the functioning of bureaucracy and its role. Weber postulates that bureaucratic administration gets its power from technical knowledge and they increase their power by acquiring additional knowledge specific to the functioning of their office (what I called complexity).
I hope, especially after the last 10 months of the COVID pandemic, we can agree on the value of experts in government. The complexity is real and it requires technical knowledge to implement programs and services and maintain infrastructure that works for the public. But the greater the complexity, the greater the potential for an unaccountable or inaccessible government. To counter this concentration of power, governments need to make technical information more widely available and to value experiential as well as technical knowledge in decision-making.
Open data is one way that bureaucracies are sharing some of their technical power with people outside. It is a transparency tool that allows people to do their own analysis. But, I do have to point out that data rarely tells the entire story of the complexity. Data alone isn’t information and can be misinterpreted (by insiders or outsiders). So in addition to open data, we need data literacy tools that can help people engage in policy decision-making on the same terms.
My hypothesis is that a collaboration between internal data experts and outside stakeholders is most likely to produce tools that help the public engage in (or even challenge) the technical basis of policy decisions. (Please share any examples you know of.) It can be hard to translate the complexity and the messiness of data for multiple audiences. For one project (more about accountability than decision-making) my team created a dashboard that used a layered approach so people could keep drilling down if they wanted more detail. We also created a data blog so we could tell the stories behind the data, explain past mistakes, and provide examples of the ambiguity in data analysis.
One of the reasons why I love working in transportation is that I have no problem talking to strangers, or rather, they have no problem talking to me. I just mention my job and everyone has an opinion about what needs to change. Everyone experiences transportation in a way that is more clear-cut than how we experience, for example, health care in this country. This doesn’t make transportation policy simple, but everyday experiences make it more accessible to everyone.
The lived experiences of the public are needed to turn data into knowledge. Policy decision-making should integrate technical and experiential knowledge. In a practical sense, this means getting public input throughout the data analysis or technical phases of a project or policy decision (instead of at the end). In a principled sense, this means valuing the public’s experiential knowledge, especially from people whose voices are not well represented inside the agency or at the decision-making table, as important as technical knowledge. Valuing experiential knowledge requires stretching beyond any stated principle of equity in decision-making to operationalizing this principle in ongoing relationships with communities. It is more complicated in practice than most technical analysis, but rarely is given adequate resources.
Taking steps to open data and lift up experiential knowledge can be very challenging for insiders who get their power from their technical expertise. Within complicated organizations controlling access to information, to the public or other employees, is one way the few retain power-over the many. By sharing information and integrating technical and experiential knowledge, agency insiders can build power-with outside partners to make change.
(Side note, a great example of how technical and experiential knowledge clashed and then combined to make better health care policy comes from the relationship between Dr. Fauci and AIDS activists in the late 1980s.)
We need the idealistic vision that a better world is possible and the pragmatic reality of how to make changes work starting in the world we have right now. A major challenge is how to keep your eyes on the former while deep in the weeds of the latter. I tried to address this by practicing accountability.
In 2005, I called my mother to tell her that I planned to go to graduate school in City Planning. Her exact response was, “How are you going to make sure you don’t sell out and become a liberal?” I don’t remember my response, but I understood what she meant. She was warning against become a professional whose decisions were driven by making a salary, instead by making structural change. (I like to joke wanting to make structural change is why I went on to get a Ph.D. in Civil Engineering.)
I figured out early on working inside an agency that I needed to regularly talk to outside organizers. I needed their input on what work to prioritize and which battles to fight to improve equity. I knew that as an upper middle-class white person my experience limits my knowledge of the most pressing issues and that priorities should be based on the needs of the most impacted. So I looked to community organizations that had a grassroots base in low-income communities and communities of color. Luckily I could draw on previous relationships with organizers and the transit organizing already happening when I arrived in Boston.
The first project I picked up was piloting a transit pass for low-income youth. Youth and transit advocates had been organizing for the Youth Pass for seven years and had just won a pilot when I started. My role was to work with municipal and community partners and the agency’s technical team to design and implement the pilot program. We negotiated, we compromised, and together we found a way through all of the complexity to make a program that worked for youth participants, program administrators, the transit agency, and would provide useful research data. It was an excellent lesson for collaboratively solving complex problems and built my credibility as someone who could get projects done.
In a government agency that is very public facing, like a transit agency, it is easy to fall into the fortress mentality. You get publicly attacked all the time and often the criticism doesn’t include a nuanced understanding of the challenges the agency faces on a daily basis. Statements abound like ‘why doesn’t the [agency] just do X.’ You and your colleagues either laugh or cry at the over-simplistic idea of ‘just’ being able to change any one thing without due consideration of the domino effect that one change has on intertwined systems, teams, and services. A group defense mechanism in the face of many critiques is the tendency to pull up the proverbial draw-bridge to the fortress, which also filters out the reasonable and justified criticism.
I saw myself starting to get defensive and I knew that I had to actively tether myself to people outside of the agency to remind myself to listen. Again I tried to make sure I was hearing the voices of people who didn’t have same experience as most leaders of my agency and whose lives would be most impacted by our policy decisions. I made sure to put myself in situations where I would hear other voices by creating space in formal public engagement settings and by riding the transit system (and not just on social media). And I tried to listen with the intent of real change: changing myself, my decisions, and the organization.
At the same time I felt that to make meaningful change I had to remain grounded in a pragmatic view of what change seemed possible, on what time-frames, based on my understanding of the existing complexities (political and technical). However, there is a struggle between understanding the challenges of implementation and these challenges being used as an excuse for inaction. The practice of pragmatic empathy helps combat the fortress mentality and the inertia that pervades complex organizations.
Agencies often need outside actors to push them. And at the same time, I want the public to understand the very real challenges. Without understanding the complexity and true cost of change within public agencies, an unintended consequence of criticism plays into the narrative of government being incompetent, which undermines public support for government providing solutions.
Similarly, public agencies struggle with how to admit past mistakes or inequity caused by previous policy decisions. Honest accounting of the past is necessary for accountability, to rebuild trust with communities, and as important context as agencies work to increase equity. I think agencies, public stakeholders, and the media need to create the space for discussing the past in order to move forward. (Maybe more on this later, still thinking about it. There are definitely existing good examples to draw on.)
I started my work focused on accountability to the people the agency serves and spent four years developing policies and teams working on external equity. Then I expanded my focus to the internal working of the organization and realized that accountability also applies to the employees whose voices were not heard in the decision-making process. I had hired talented diverse teams, but now I knew I needed to actively support and create space for employees of color. Before I left I helped start a process for improving equity and inclusion internally. This work caused me to reflect on how my experience as an internal change-maker was shaped by my whiteness. There is still more I need to learn.
The dilemma of pragmatism, especially in middle management, is how much risk to take by speaking truth to power knowing that your work to accomplish other goals might be jeopardized. The counterfactual that someone worse could be in your position is always true. It is a constant balancing act to determine when to compromise and when to keep pushing past the point of comfort for the harder outcome. There is a strong tendency toward not rocking the boat now in order to get the next job with more power, but the question of what is enough power is rarely answered. I tried to remain true to myself by rooting my power in my principles, and not my position. And I knew some day I might have to leave.
Sadly my mother passed away a few weeks after I accepted the job at the MBTA. Her voice echoed through my decisions and I am pretty sure she would appreciate how much I have grown.
Making government work for everyone is not easy, regardless whether you are pushing for change from the outside or the inside. In my experience some of the same skills and analytical tools are useful.
I have advanced degrees in transportation, but it was my experience as an organizer that I drew on the most to figure out how to make change at the MBTA. As a child, I attended local government meetings with my mother and on the way home, she and I would analyze the political alliances we’d observed and debate about strategy. I began facilitating meetings to build group consensus when I was a teenager. In my 20s I was part of social movements and spent a lot of time critiquing tactics and considering how to be more effective at making lasting change. In graduate school I provided technical support to transit organizing in Atlanta.
Just like organizing for progressive change in general, change inside government agencies requires multicultural coalitions with clear objectives and the strategies and tactics to achieve them. That means change-makers have to address institutional and societal problems preventing inclusion and equity. Multicultural in this context also means understanding the cultures of departments and offices within the agency or across agencies. Meetings have to be planned with this in mind, and sometimes ‘translators’ are useful to help different departments communicate with each other more effectively.
The coalition part means that efforts need to be welcoming and inclusive of people with different skill sets and roles. The experience and knowledge of the person deep in the technical weeds or on the front-lines is critical and their participation is needed to create solutions. The sweet spot for middle management is having the ear of leadership and the trust of the workforce. I found that open communication and transparent decision-making was critical to gaining that trust. A more cynical version of coalition building is that dysfunctional agencies run on the favor economy so it helps to be helpful to a lot of people.
The clear objectives part means having goals that others can fully comprehend along with a plan to achieve it. It took some reflection to understand that people inside the agency often gravitated to me because I could articulate what I was trying to get done, why, and how they could help. A proficient manager can divide a big project into different tasks and an effective organizer has a strategy and tactics to achieve their goal.
My social movement thinking includes having an analysis of power and theory of change. Analyzing power includes identifying who has power, leverage points, and how to build your own power. Multicultural coalitions centered on people who historically have not had power, require building ‘power-with’ instead of using ‘power-over’ tactics. Power-with lifts everyone involved while power-over uses the existing systems of power rooted in white supremacy and patriarchy. Power-with principles help mediate the corrupting influence of power; the ends usually don’t justify the means.
My theory of change inside government agencies is that change usually requires both inside and outside collaboration. An idea or new priority might come from employees or the public, but it will require employees to make it work and to do so, they often need outside political support. (More on this collaboration in an upcoming post.)
Sometimes my objectives were shared by leadership, but more often than not I had to make them into priorities. I took advantage of the vulnerabilities of the governance structure of my agency (and every crisis) in order to push the changes I wanted to make. Key to this was figuring out how priorities were set and using my privilege and relationships to get on the agenda. And then never giving up regardless if the challenges were political or technical, one of the best things said about me when I left my job was that I had tactful relentlessness. Most of my projects or policy changes took years to achieve.
(After 4 years I realized that the vulnerabilities I was using were unsustainable for the agency and so I spent the next 2 years trying to fix them. This proved more difficult and gave me a lot to think about. So perhaps more later on the dilemma between making specific policy/program changes and changing the organization itself.)
In addition to organizing skills, I found it useful to think about the functions and roles within large complicated organizations. Through conversations with colleagues I came up with the three-sided spectrum of ideas people, details people, and process people. An organization needs a balance of all three types of thinking and often is lacking in ‘process’ people. Process people provide the connective tissue between silos and often do the translating I mentioned previously between and across the organization.
I was able to build a talented multidisciplinary team of process people who coordinated across departments and pushed projects up the hill of complexity. This gave us power in the organization because we were designing decision-making processes and we had the time and space to problem-solve collaboratively.
I know that I benefited from luck/good timing, leadership, and talented colleagues. But my experience and training as an organizer, who thinks about organizational dynamics, really helped me strategically play the cards I had and know which battles to fight when.
Part 1: The Need and the Challenge
For those of us who are committed to addressing climate change, dismantling white supremacy, and reducing economic inequality in the U.S. and who believe that government has a critical role, these have been a difficult few years, or decades. But we hold out hope in the election, at all levels of government, of change-makers with ambitious policy proposals. Clearly, the grassroots organizing in support of these proposals (and officials) needs to continue for them to be adopted, but from my vantage point as a (former) public employee, a similar amount of work is needed to actually implement these policies.
In school, we learned how a bill becomes a law (at least in a sanitized procedural sense). But few curricula cover what comes next: How does a law or a policy become enforceable regulations or take shape as a new program or service?
My sense is that many people perceive government agencies (the bureaucracy, not the politicians) as black boxes. This leads people to assume that every problem is the result of incompetence or lack of political will. In reality, government agencies are a collection of people managing technical systems, infrastructure, and business processes tenuously connected together through years of patchwork and, in all likelihood, under investment. The systems of systems create large amounts of complexity.
Because of the complexity, implementing a policy change or a new program can be just as difficult as getting a decision made. The challenges in making change could come from needing to modify an old technical system, connecting multiple systems together, getting decisions made across the silos within the organization, or unintended consequences that have a ripple effect across multiple systems and processes.
The challenges are often harder in the public sector because services need to be sustainable, scalable, and they should serve everyone, in many cases every day of the year. My former colleagues would tell you that I am obsessed with edge cases, and that is because, unlike the private sector, the role of government is to work for the people on the margins. Working for everyone means figuring out how to make government services accessible in all definitions of the word (people with disabilities, people without internet access, cash users, and on snow days). This requires far more work than aiming to serve the 85th percentile or a chosen targeted market.
Implementation requires people with the skills and commitment to the slow slog of making change deep in the machinery of government. Policy implementation requires creativity and building internal coalitions, and sometimes external partnerships, to find a way. The work usually isn’t particularly visible; and most public sector employees don’t have a public voice. While it is very rewarding to see something you did impacting lives at a large scale, often there is limited public understanding of the immense amount of work to achieve changes and criticism is very easy to find.
If we believe that government can and should solve problems, we need change-makers embedded in all levels of government. So this is my humble call for an expanding squad of public employees ready to laugh and cry their way through the complexity to lasting change.
In this week of rebirth of government in the U.S., I will post some reflections on skills, accountability, and collaboration from my six years of implementing change at the MBTA/MassDOT. For those unfamiliar with my work, I focused on changes to fare policy and programs, and service policy and pilots to increase equity. I welcome feedback on this blog or email at laurelintransit via gmail.com.
Public transit is in crisis, but this moment is an opportunity to rebuild our transit networks to address historic inequities in our transportation infrastructure. When transit ridership dropped significantly across the United States in March, the remaining ridership revealed exact when and where our most dependent riders need to travel. As expected there was significant overlap with the communities of color most impacted by COVID. The uprising for racial justice in the summer of 2020 makes it more imperative that the recovery address past injustices.
Right now public transit agencies in the US are addressing decreased capacity due to social distancing, decrease revenue, and the elevated need to provide access for essential workers. Even with additional federal financial intervention, most agencies will have to make some service cuts and potentially face long term revenue shortfalls. How those cuts are done and how service is restored as riders return will be critical to the equity of public transit and US cities.
COVID could have long-lasting impacts on travel patterns. Higher rates of telework could reduce peak trips. We need changes in how transit service is designed and delivered with a focus on serving all trips, not just peak work trips. Full-time transit riders, especially service workers, need service at different times of day, on the weekends, and to different locations. This makes all day frequency, especially on bus, more important as telework potentially reshapes white collar commuting patterns.
This is a moment with potential for large structural change. Given the scale of the crisis, we have the chance to fix the foundation of public transit networks and to be better equipped to respond to whatever travel pattern changes COVID might bring and to encourage a return to transit. But this will require agencies and traditional transportation advocates to change their usual responses. The conversation shouldn’t be about whether or not to cut service, instead it should focus on how to best serve the needs of the moment and the future. Some service might need to be scaled back due to lack of demand and in order to increase resources elsewhere in the network.
A small peek inside my brain
The normal goal of a commute trip is to minimize total time. But if you are bicyclist you are also concerned with conserving energy or retaining momentum. Since traffic signals are not coordinated for bicycle speeds (or at all) I have developed a system of adjusting my riding speed between each signal to minimize time stopped.
What I call the bicycle game started with counting the number of times I put my feet down, but evolved into a serious data collection effort. Everyday I record the total trip time, riding time, average riding speed, start time, and distance.
In my attempt to optimize my commute I consider three main indicator variables:
– total time,
– percent of total time stopped, and
– average riding kph.
I also compare three riding strategies:
– baseline (just riding)
– timing (trying to not stop), and
– speed (biking as fast as possible)
The following graphs compare each of the indicators for each strategy.
Percent of Time Stopped compared to Total Time
Average Kilometers per Hour compared to Total Time
Average Kilometers per Hour compared to Percent Time Stopped
While more data is needed, it is clear that while the timing game has produced the best individual results (shortest time and an almost zero stopped time commute) it has a large variance. So either I am not that good at it or there are too many factors out of my control (start time doesn’t seem to have a noticeable impact). Riding fast is the most reliable method to minimize total time, but it results in a lot of wasted energy. Some combination of speed and timing is the most optimal solution, but it might be almost impossible to reliably replicate due to all of the outside factors.