DISCOURSE | Intellectual Curiosity is a Prerequisite of Building Better Cities
DISCOURSE | Intellectual Curiosity is a Prerequisite of Building Better Cities
From land use regulations to street design manuals, learn to challenge urbanism’s “settled” ideas.
Written By Andy Boenau
This piece was originally printed in Issue 2 of Southern Urbanism Quarterly.
Asking deeper questions will help you be a better urbanist
The point of intellectual curiosity isn’t to convince someone that you’re right, and they’re wrong. It’s almost the opposite mindset. Assume you have much to learn about a topic that intrigues you. Be skeptical, even of your own held beliefs. Love learning. Why? Because intellectual curiosity is a prerequisite to better citybuilding.
Southern cities full of intellectually curious urbanists would inspire young professionals, motivate community leaders, and take action based on practical expertise. That’s my vision of what could be achieved with a demonstrated love of learning.
When we’re young, we can’t stop asking questions. Everything feels like magic or a mystery. Where does rain come from? How do clouds change shape? Why do clothes in the dryer stick together? Why are green beans gross until smothered in butter? Who invented letters? Where does trash go? How does music make a person feel happy and sad?
“The illiterate of the 21st century will not be those who cannot read and write, but those who cannot learn, unlearn, and relearn.”
— Alvin Toffler
School muted or squashed the love of learning in most of us, because everything became a chore. Learn this, but not that. Listen to this, but not that. After so many years of memorizing boring information that we don’t care about, it’s hard work to come back to a childlike wonder about the world. A child’s approach to learning requires sincere inquiry, unbounded by bias or preconceived ideology. It requires, simultaneously, a curious optimism and a healthy amount of skepticism.
It doesn’t take much to imagine how this thinking could be applied to urbanism. You can demonstrate a love of learning about any topic related to citybuilding: affordable housing, park design, shopping mall rehab, street furniture, road diets, bicycle parking, zoning ordinances. The list goes on.
“Don’t just teach your children to read. Teach them to question what they read. Teach them to question everything.”
— George Carlin
But a curious urbanist should not be satisfied with generic responses to specific queries. It offers little hope for progress to say, “No, we’re not going to allow accessory dwelling units because they’re unpopular.” So ask follow-up questions. The more detailed, the better. The more novel, the better. Build on other people’s work. That’s progress. And there’s plenty of progress needing to be made. For example:
How do building codes prevent affordable housing options?
If the road design manual says 10-foot lanes are fine, why are agencies using 12 feet as the minimum?
How does zoning reinforce car dependency?
How would people still have access to shops and offices if a local government eliminated minimum parking requirements?
If roundabouts have such a profound safety record, then why are so many agencies still widening intersections for signals?
The internet is where humans flock to demonstrate their lack of intellectual curiosity. It’s an unfortunate reality of social media, in particular, that it funnels for selection and confirmation bias—both headwinds to genuine curiosity and thus progress. My challenge to you is to resist that urge.
Wrestling directly with difficult issues will strengthen your work
Engaging the car lobby
To underscore the damage of rigid ideology and preconception, let’s look at a case in my professional world—transportation engineering.
Consider the automobile industry. For a citybuilder, Big Auto has traditionally been a major ideological opponent, because their vision is a world where driving is the most convenient mobility option.
About half of America’s car trips are less than a few miles, and about a quarter of car trips are under one mile. If those trips were on a bicycle, they’d only be five to 20 minutes long. In light of that, it’s commonly asserted that the car industry would oppose reforms encouraging Americans to switch their car trips to bicycle trips. Imagine if households realized they could take care of all their mobility needs with one car instead of three. If everyone lived close enough to all their errands that a car became a luxury item instead of a daily necessity, Big Auto would have serious revenue problems.
The challenge is being willing to admit that a real or perceived adversary (like Big Auto) could sometimes act as an ally.
Falling in line with historical opposition to Big Auto, many urbanists instinctively jump on the bandwagon mocking or dismissing autonomous vehicle (AV) technology. After all, introducing AVs means cramming more cars into the public sphere. But an intellectually curious urbanist might come up with questions that catalyze productive follow-up conversations:
If consumers were able to subscribe to a fleet of mobility devices that included bikes, buses, and cars, would that reduce their need to rely on cars for their trips?
If human drivers are prone to reckless behavior, would self-driving cars reduce crashes?
Could AV technology make it possible to reduce the size of service trucks (e.g., fire, trash, or utility vehicles)?
Could AVs decrease the need for parking lots, freeing that space up for redevelopment?
Take a similar approach to electric vehicles, bus rapid transit, or any other “vehicle-oriented” topic that involves a geometry problem of fitting large machinery into constrained spaces. The challenge is being willing to admit that a real or perceived adversary (like Big Auto) could sometimes act as an ally. In too many urbanist circles, such a hypothesis is a non-starter. In the least sincere intellectual circles, defending the utility of automobiles or their manufacturers is ground for immediate cancellation and de-platforming. As a result, progress is halted.
Engaging the bicycle lobby
Americans love wearing helmets and telling everyone to wear helmets. It’s as settled as “brush your teeth or they’ll rot.” The idea that a street network could be inviting for casual bicycling without specialized protective armor is foreign to many Westerners, Americans especially. Promoting safe infrastructure, or simply playing any sort of “safety card,” gives our culture pause.
Rather than pursue a deeper thought, it’s easier to just insist helmets should be the top priority for safe biking. Broadly speaking, Americans are not interested in learning what makes bicycling so effortless in other countries. They’d rather get into a defensive posture based on feelings, not inquiry. “That car would’ve killed me if it wasn’t for my helmet.” “You shouldn’t be biking without protection because it sets the wrong example for kids.” And so on.
The outcome is not as important as the intellectual exercise. It’s a journey, not a destination.
I’ve been in multiple stakeholder meetings where the conversation spiraled into whether or not helmets should be required by law or merely required for a local bike share operator.
Giro is one of the leading manufacturers of bike helmets. Their Senior Brand Development Manager Eric Richter had to say in an interview with Cycling Industry: “There are many misconceptions about helmets. …we do not design helmets specifically to reduce chances or severity of injury when impacts involve a car. The number of variables is too great to calculate….”
The research study “Effects of bicycle helmet wearing on accident and injury rates” concluded that discouraging bicycling through unscientific fearmongering reduces public health:
...this study presents evidence that helmet use tends to increase the accident/injury rate per cyclist, potentially outweighing any head protection benefits. It reinforces the findings of numerous published studies that mandatory helmet laws reduce cycling participation, which is detrimental to public health and is likely to also increase vehicular traffic if discouraged bike riders alternatively drive a car.
The alternative to engaging in groupthink is to be a skeptic about the mainstream belief. In this case, you can learn about the origin, design, purpose, and efficacy of helmets. And learn about the origin, design, purpose, and efficacy of bicycle infrastructure. You might solidify your current opinion or become persuaded to change your mind. The outcome is not as important as the intellectual exercise. It’s a journey, not a destination.
To question the dogma of bicycle safety, you might ask:
What type of infrastructure works for the Dutch? Is it legal in the US?
What makes bicycling so convenient for people of all ages in countries like the Netherlands, even in the rain and snow?
Will mandatory helmet laws encourage or discourage bicycling as transportation?
Is it true that bike helmets don’t protect against car collisions?
Should all bike lanes be separate from car lanes, even if riders are wearing helmets?
If there’s one thing to remember from everything above, it’s to never stop learning.
I wish people were more willing to learn more about something they had a strong position on. There’s so much to discover from others, even in your area of expertise. You and I may differ on our opinions about integrating AVs into transit fleets or requiring cyclists to wear helmets. We can both look at the same set of facts, draw different conclusions, and still be smarter than we were the day before. And happier. That’s how intellectual curiosity is supposed to work.
Andy Boenau is an independent writer, filmmaker, and mobility consultant. He has received industry awards for photography, podcasting, writing, and speaking. He served as a founding board member of MaaS America, Vice Chair of American Planning Association’s New Urbanism Division, and Chair of the Institute of Transportation Engineers’ Transportation Planning Council. Andy’s work is published at Urbanism Speakeasy.