Zone of tolerance

Our paths often cross with those of other people – and not always those who we would care to invite to the tranquillity of our personal desert islands. They are often those who have different ways, values, likings and needs.

Our hunter-gatherer ancestors could always split up and head off in the other direction, but ever since we settled in towns and cities this is no longer an option. Some people do what they can – closing themselves off in enclaves inhabited by those of the same age and income, in fenced off estates with CCTV, driving their cars from one underground car park to another. But even then, we still have to drive through the city, going through crossings for pedestrians and bicycles.

Recently, a new bike path was opened in my neighbourhood. The route runs a for few kilometres with breaks alongside the main road. It’s well used by many people and not only by cyclists. Electric scooter riders and rollerbladers have also using it. But apart from those times when drivers use it as an extra lane to avoid the queues that form in front of the railway level crossing, it’s often full of pedestrians.

Why are there pedestrians on the bike path? Maybe because there’s no pavement on this side of the road, but there are still houses. Not just single homes but entire estates, where hundreds of people live, who once in a while may decide to travel on foot to the station, the school or the nearest convenience store. Let’s just add that there’s no crossing on the side where the pavement is. (Let’s not get stuck on the details, it’s just important that IT CAN’T BE DONE.)

Under such circumstances, bike paths, pedestrians and cars (which also drive out of these homes and estates) often cross paths dangerously and at alarming speeds. The neighbours, in a civil-minded spirit, have taken it upon themselves to install mirrors to help avoid potential collisions. But tempers often rise in the danger zone. I was witness to a little old lady arguing with a pleasant-looking man and a child. Who was on the bike or whether the incident took place on the designated cycle path, or at the bus stop where cyclists theoretically should dismount, just isn’t the real issue here.

The rules for viaducts and cycle paths don’t cover all possible circumstances – what’s needed is tolerance. With this, cyclists would courteously avoid mothers with prams, while pedestrians would look on respectfully and not with indignation at a convoy of three cyclists speeding past while listening to very LOUD PORTABLE MUSIC with an additional passenger on the handlebars. (That’s what happened.)

A well-designed estate should not close people off from the outside world and should instead offer them different areas with different levels of privacy and social interaction. There should be public areas open to the neighbours from beyond the estate, internal patios and private gardens, stairwells for a small number of apartments and, last but not least, your own four walls.

But the outside world will always intrude on even the cosiest of nests. Most often in the form of noise. Someone is doing renovations, someone’s playing on the trombone or bringing home a newborn baby, or someone might be dragging their suitcase over the cobbles. And then there are the smells, such as compost with nettles. This by itself might be very eco-friendly, but it sure does create a stink. Then there are the semi-domesticated animals that don’t always respect the boundaries set by people. And then there are the chemicals that people use (some like pesticides and insect repellents), while others like letting weeds grow (such as those who like dandelions).

Tolerance helps in all such matters – obviously, only up to a certain limit, but it’s always a good start. It goes well with inquisitiveness and openness and should be employed generously by all parties. It’s worthwhile showing tolerance on the street or in the shop, and both employees and employers. I believe that then our everyday collisions could have results as tremendous as the volcanic paradise of Hawaii and as awe-inspiring as the Himalayas.