by Liu Xiaoyu
Currently, there are four tunnels in Shanghai Jiao Tong University (SJTU) running parallel to each other, jointly serving the purpose of providing a pathway for students to commute between the east and west parts of the campus. Among the three of them that allow bicycle traffic is Tunnel No. 3. Located at the center of the academic and residential areas on campus, it witnesses the greatest flow of cyclists during the class-driven rush hours on a daily basis. However, unlike other tunnels to which students have less frequent exposure, Tunnel No. 3 is not so noticed or regarded as an approachable place by a majority of them. Numerous conversations about the students’ commute preferences have revealed that some may even choose to detour in order to avoid including it in their everyday cycling routes. Based on observations of the interior of Tunnel No. 3 and studies on cycling behaviors, an explanatory argument can be made: the relatively unattended and unregulated environment inside the tunnel triggers the cyclists’ growing aversion to it, thus shifting the interactive strategy within their “cyclist identity” from neutral to defensive (Füssl 335) before consequently leading to their refusal to consider the tunnel as a place to identify with.
As students approach Tunnel No. 3 on their bicycles at a high speed, its “unattended” properties are one of the first and the most direct visual responses that they receive. Viewed from a distance, cyclists are clueless about what objects are moving inside the tunnel due to poor lighting facilities. At day, the bright sunlight completely outshines the weak illumination provided by ceiling lights that are set to half of their maximum brightness. At night, only twelve out of all sixteen dust-covered lights are fully powered, while the others either remain dim or fail to give off any light at all. In both cases, the visibility of cyclists is considerably limited before they actually enter the tunnel, and the sense of unknown and uncertainty that emerges becomes the direct cause of uneasiness.
In contrast, through an observation of Tunnel No. 2, another cycling tunnel on the SJTU campus not far from No. 3, a better design to provide sufficient interior illumination has been discovered. In the daytime, when the natural lighting conditions are the most ideal, a slit in the middle of the tunnel ceiling allows sunlight to fall through, effectively preventing the central part from becoming too dark. Whenever the ambient brightness drops below a certain threshold, all ceiling lamps would automatically turn on to emit warm, bright light. These technical details grant a first chance of unobstructed visual contact to every cyclist who occasionally rides through the tunnel; however, Tunnel No. 3 does not seem so open and welcoming to cyclists at their first glance.
Soon, as cyclists move closer to the entrance of Tunnel No. 3, interior details become increasingly visible. Unfortunately, a majority of cyclists are more than disturbed by the environment that they find themselves in. The cement surface of the ceiling has already been heavily deteriorated and partially peeled off by flowing air – any unstable cement piece may potentially fall down at any given moment to hit a cyclist beneath. The metal handrails dividing sidewalk and traffic lanes have darkened and rusted to the extent that no one is willing to come into contact with. The tiled pillars lining both sides of the road have been covered under a thick layer of dust and dirt blown in by vehicles and trucks, with some even caught in large spider webs. Moreover, the graffiti that take up the space of entire walls has mostly faded over time. Under the shadow, the combination of these horrifying elements amplifies the sense of insecurity and uneasiness, not to mention discouraging the cyclists from lingering for any longer. By this time, the “unattended” features of Tunnel No. 3 have laid a negative emotional basis for regular cyclists.
During rush hours before and after class, when the greatest number of cyclists are hurrying for their destinations, the “unregulated” aspects of Tunnel No. 3 are demonstrated. Initially, cyclists tend to actively slow down as they approach the entrance because of their poor visibility into the darkness. Next, they further decelerate as they try to dodge the deep cracks and pits that appear all over the ground. Before long, a congestion of bicycles is formed as more cyclists speed in than those who actually manage to leave. According to one study on transport and road safety led by Julie Hatfield, researcher from The University of New South Wales, if a cluster of cyclists is moving at a constant, shared speed, they tend to converge to the middle of whatever lane spaces that they are able to occupy (Hatfield 409). Where Tunnel No. 3 is concerned, since it is the only cycling tunnel without plastic poles installed on the central line for physical lane separation, hurried cyclists unconsciously regard the opposite side of the road as appropriate to ride on regardless of the traffic rules. When cyclists entering the tunnel from opposite directions both converge to the middle of the road, as is predicted by Hatfield, the congestion is worsened and impacts between bicycles become significantly more frequent than it would be if there were separation poles and policemen guiding on the scene. Eventually, everyone is firmly stuck in the tunnel and surrounded by the dark, disturbing environment. To sum up, the string of unpleasant commute experiences and behavioral choices stem from the “unregulated” conditions of Tunnel No. 3, which strengthen the cyclists’ belief that the tunnel is by no means well designed and maintained.
In comparison, results from the observation of a tunnel between the north and south areas of University of Science and Technology of China (USTC) have shown that through regulation and intervention, the periodic increase in cyclist flow can be dealt with smoothly. Shortly before the advent of a rush hour, plastic poles are manually installed to divide the road from two opposite car lanes to four individual cycling lanes. In the meantime, motor vehicles are redirected away from the tunnel so that the safety of commuters is ensured. Furthermore, it is reflected from conversations with USTC students that barely have they experienced bicycle congestions in the tunnel, nor have they ever felt it necessary to avoid travelling through it. Unfortunately, back at Tunnel No. 3, there has already been a noticeable proportion of time-conscious students who have begun taking the detour to save themselves the stress of being exposed to disturbing surroundings while being late for class.
Taking a step further, in addition to the environmental perspective, the cyclists’ behaviors counteracting with the acceptance of Tunnel No. 3 as approachable can also be explained from the concept of identity. As a prerequisite, the tunnel is actually a unique place characterized by deep, negative impressions left on student commuters rather than the more intimate and positive feelings. Next, Gillian Rose, geography lecturer from University of Edinburgh, argues that one of the sufficient conditions of identifying with a place is to associate one’s identity with a sense of belonging and comfort (Rose 89); not identifying with it, on the contrary, is closely linked with the feeling of identity irrelevance (Rose 96). More specifically, in the evaluation of the relationship between cyclists and Tunnel No. 3, “cyclist identity” becomes dominant among all aspects of identity. It is defined as cyclists’ perception of themselves that guide their movement through different scenarios and help form predictions and decisions to cope with upcoming changes (Füssl 333). How cyclists gradually turn away from the place can then be derived from these three points.
When cyclists are faced with an environment obscured by inadequate illumination, left unattended for long periods of time and constantly surrounded by chaotic traffic conditions, it is almost certain that a negative sense of place would be formed. Their “cyclist identity” would turn defensive out of the human instinct of self-protection, while the predictive nature of the identity is called to search for a better way of reaching the destination (Füssl 335). Such aversion is made possible by the well-established network of roads on campus, so it follows that an increasing number of cyclists turn to take other less congested routes. As the active isolation completely cuts off their subsequent exposures to the tunnel, a sense of belonging and comfort, which depends on spatial contact to a large extent, can no longer be formed. On the other hand, as the place loses significance in their daily commute, an irrelevance with their “cyclist identity” readily appears. With only the second criterion proposed by Rose satisfied, “not identifying” with the place becomes the unavoidable consequence.
In conclusion, Tunnel No. 3 is undergoing a decrease in student cyclists for concrete reasons. Current problems with its interior environment are interacting with “cycling identity” to drive this implicit geographical and social phenomenon. Yet it is still believed that various solutions exist to improve the appearances and functions of this tunnel – in other words, to make students’ pathway to knowledge easier to ride on.
Works Cited
Füssl, Elisabeth and Juliane Haupt. “Understanding Cyclist Identity and Related Interaction Strategies. A Novel Approach to Traffic Research.” Transportation Research Part F: Traffic Psychology and Behaviour 46.B (2017): 329-341.ScienceDirect, https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/ S1369847816303539?via%3Dihub. Accessed Nov. 24, 2019.
Hatfield, Julie, Roslyn G. Poulos, Chris Rissel, Lloyd K. Flack, Raphael Grzebieta, Andrew S. McIntosh and Susanne Murphy. “Factors Associated with Cyclists’ Self-reported Choice of Lane Position.” Transportation Research Part F: Traffic Psychology and Behaviour 55 (2018): 403-414. ScienceDirect, https://www.sciencedirect. com/science/article/pii/S1369847817300888?via%3Dihub. Accessed Nov. 24, 2019.
Rose, Gillian. “Place and Identity: A Sense of Place.” A Place in the World?: Places, Cultures and Globalization. Ed. Doreen Massey and Pat Jess. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995. 87-132.