"Nobody Goes There Anymore. It's Too Crowded." - The Self-Defeating Logic of Our Cities

Yogi Berra’s timeless quip, "Nobody goes there anymore. It's too crowded," perfectly encapsulates a strange kind of thinking that seems to dominate our approach to urban planning, particularly when it comes to transportation. It’s a logic that, upon closer inspection, reveals itself to be utterly self-defeating.

Take parking minimums, for example. Driven by the fear that there won't be enough parking in our downtown areas (or, frankly, anywhere), cities mandate the creation of vast seas of asphalt. We demolish existing buildings or prevent the construction of new ones – shops, factories, offices, the very things that might draw people to the city in the first place – all in the name of accommodating cars that might or might not arrive. Every space dedicated to parking is a space not used for something that actually generates economic activity or cultural vibrancy. It's the urban equivalent of saying, "Nobody comes to my restaurant because there's no seating… so I'll just replace the kitchen with more chairs."

The reverse, and equally baffling, logic seems to apply to public transit. American cities often boast some of the most skeletal transit systems in the developed world. Rail systems are relics, bus service is infrequent to the point of being unusable, with a bizarre aversion to any bus line operating more than a couple of times an hour. Yet, when the question of improving transit arises, the common refrain is, "Well, nobody rides transit in [insert city name]." It’s a classic chicken-and-egg scenario. How can anyone ride transit if it’s unreliable, infrequent, or simply doesn't exist where they need it? I’ve personally experienced the absurdity of waiting an hour for a bus, only to have it arrive so packed that boarding was impossible. "Nobody goes there anymore. It's too crowded," indeed.

And this brings us to the fascinating, and often counterintuitive, ideas presented by transportation thinkers like Anthony Downs. For decades, traffic planners have built their careers on the premise that traffic congestion is the enemy, something to be eradicated at all costs. But what if we’ve been looking at it wrong all along? What if the real issue isn't congestion itself, but traffic volume?

Downs, in his insightful work, argues that any attempt to alleviate congestion through conventional means is ultimately doomed to fail due to the phenomenon of triple convergence. Build more lanes, and drivers who previously took different routes, different modes of transport, or traveled at different times will all converge onto the newly "freed-up" road, quickly filling the new capacity and bringing congestion levels right back to where they started.

But let’s flip this on its head. If the fundamental issue is traffic volume, then congestion isn't the problem; it's the automatic solution. And instead of "triple convergence," we get triple divergence. High traffic volume leads to congestion. This congestion, in turn:

• Drives people to seek alternative modes of transportation, creating a built-in ridership for robust public transit systems. Suddenly, that bus that was once empty becomes a viable and attractive option.
• Creates traffic flow down corridors that might otherwise be overlooked, making those areas more visible and potentially fostering the development of new commercial districts along those less-congested routes.
• Incentivizes individuals and institutions to operate at different start and end times, breaking the rigid 9-to-5, Monday-to-Friday schedule. This can lead to more vibrant and active communities at times outside of traditional peak hours, spreading out demand and creating a more dynamic urban fabric.

So, perhaps the Yogi Berra joke isn't just a humorous anecdote. Maybe it holds a key to understanding our urban transportation woes. By obsessively trying to eliminate congestion through more parking and highway expansions, we are inadvertently destroying the very reasons people want to be in our cities and undermining the potential for robust transit systems.

Instead of fearing congestion, perhaps we should embrace it as a natural consequence of a healthy volume of people wanting to be in the same place. Our focus should shift to providing viable, attractive alternatives – frequent, reliable public transit, safe and accessible pedestrian and cycling infrastructure – that allow people to opt out of that congestion if they choose.

Maybe then, we can finally create cities where people actually want to go, even if it means occasionally encountering a bit of… well, you know.