Seminal psychoanalyst Erich Fromm wrote we “are not part of a fixed and biologically given nature” and that our “passions and anxieties are a cultural product.” What appear as definite distinct or normal character traits change from one historical epoch to another. Our “burning ambition for fame” for example began in the Renaissance and now seems so natural but it “was little present in man of the medieval society.” Fromm also noted that work is a reasonably novel trait. In 16th century northern Europe “man developed an obsessional craving to work which had been lacking in a free man before that period.” Fromm helps us understand that what we perceive as a given trait or normal is largely complex cultural assemblages with messy histories.
There are numerous stories narrating our general and uncontroversial automobile-based lives. The “General Motors streetcar conspiracy” strung a good story together so we’ll start here.
Beginning in 1936 oil and automotive companies invested in a corporate conglomerate to help dismantle the electric streetcar in 45 American cities. The intent was that by restricting supply demand would be tilted toward their products: automobiles and buses. A gap needs to be plugged when public transit is drained from the transportation system.
In the early 1940s real estate tire parking automotive and automotive-based companies formed a lobby group that imagined the United States connected by a superhighway system. It was believed the highways would lessen congestion in smog-plagued cities (or offer escape routes in the instance of a nuclear assault).
It has been depicted as a conspiracy but the courts deemed otherwise. Whatever the motives the evidence paints an effective picture of addiction: between 1950 and 1980 the American population grew by 50 per cent and car ownership by 200 per cent.
It’s not the only indicator of our dependency. In his book Straphanger Taras Grescoe reports that in 2010 freeways in America received $52 billion in federal funding while the commuter train system Amtrak received $1.5 billion in spite of record ridership.
In 2013 the research group Borrell Associates reported the automobile industry was pegged to spend $30.8 billion in the U.S. on local and national advertising a rise of 14 per cent from the year before.
Our current burning ambition for fame might appear to be one of the dominant themes running through contemporary society but as Fromm noted it is not natural or innate. Nor are our automotive-oriented towns and lives.
We must go places and the sprawling places we inhabit tend to demand transportation beyond our own bipedalism. Thus the point-to-point convenience of driving is hard to sway.
Landscape architect and professor James Corner reminds us of the complex relationships that need to be teased out if we want to change one of the system inputs contributing to our addiction or to collapse it altogether. Writing on the “ecological crisis” he says if we desire change then we must recognize “how the root cause of environmental and spiritual decline is buried in the complex foundations of modern culture particularly its political-economic practices its social institutions and the psychology and intolerance of much of its citizenry.” How does the automobile-addiction narrative skid into this?
A recent fad is self-professed car freedom but that doesn’t get us very far except maybe contributing material for our social media feeds. True change to mitigate the colossal damage the private automobile has induced — environmentally and socially — requires actions beyond simply selling your car. It’s a complex system with numerous connections.
What’s required to change us for the better for our well-being for the well-being of the planet? I’ll respond by returning to Fromm: augmenting the civil structures of our habitats to restrict our freedom so we can be free.
Speaking to European Fascism Fromm asks “Why… is it that freedom is for many a cherished goal and for others a threat? Is there not also perhaps besides an innate desire for freedom an instinctive wish for submission? If there is not how can we account for the attraction which submission to a leader has for so many today? Is submission always to an overt authority or is there also submission to internalized authorities such as duty or conscience to inner compulsions or to anonymous authorities like public opinion? Is there a hidden satisfaction in submitting and what is its essence?”
So what mutually agreed upon restrictions are required to be free? Being anti-automobile only gets us so far and behavioural changes are difficult to induce accept or make. The system isn’t just us. Maybe urban geographer Steven Flusty can get us a little further: “We’re not infinitely malleable and as with everything else the degree of our malleability will depend upon the conditions of the time and place (people can often be a great deal more malleable when they discover their own asses are more concretely in jeopardy) and the length of time over which the transformations take effect” he says over email. We might not be fixed biologically nor infinitely malleable but returning to professor Corner’s reminder: our collective asses are indeed in jeopardy when it comes to the world system of our automobile addiction. Maybe we need to give up a little (perceived) freedom to be free.
Steven Snell is a professional city planner with a master’s in urban planning. His series of columns will focus on spatial justice and the city. The opinions expressed are his own. Follow him on Twitter @stevenpsnell.
