I live in a dense suburb just outside of Boston, Massachusetts, a state containing three of the top five worst cities for safe driving by the 2016 Allstate “America’s Best Drivers Report” (n.a., 2016). We’re called “Massholes”. People here sell that on bumper stickers. Survey results from the AAA Foundation’s Traffic Safety Culture Index study released just this month found that 80 percent of US drivers indicate “significant” road rage, but those in the North East are 30 percent more likely to have made “angry gestures” (Salomon, 2016). Whoops. Me.
I realized I was growing a sizable road rage problem when I helped precipitate an incident in which the opposing driver exited the car to confront me, and a second occupant wasn’t far behind. I was the passenger in that situation. I’ve got a hoard of lewd gestures, and even some inflammatory skits worked out for a driver unfortunate enough to light the fuse, then get stuck next to me in traffic. I’d never been pulled over or in an accident, but I found myself almost purposefully trying to create some. Worse, I found myself more frequently getting incensed for round two while meticulously recounting the wrongs of other drivers to increasingly uninterested friends and family. Then I began keeping each roadway build and crest of anxiety, outbursts and anger to myself. It was my assumption that flipping birds and asking people how their mom is (insincerely) relieved the rage.
Before the outburst of pity and thrusting of Anger Management hotlines, this was not a problem that had any tangible consequences on my life. I’m thankful for that. I did, however, come to gain better control on my road rage through some reflection and deliberate change of perspective. Here are some rhetorical questions and anecdotes from my decision to become a lesser Masshole (Perhaps they’ll stick around for the next time you’re leaning on the horn or giving the one-finger-salute).
Volunteering [Your Nerves] as Tribute?
For me, engaging in this confrontation is anxiety provoking, fear inducing, even gives me that tight throat and bloodshot eye look; indicative of high blood pressure and attractive by no means. When fear is provoked [during your morning commute on Route 3] the autonomic nervous system perceives the conflict as a “Fight or Flight” situation and releases the stress hormones like cortisol, adrenaline and epinephrine (resulting in increased blood flow and respiration, muscle activity, release of glucose for energy) in order for you to survive (McEwen and Sapolsky, 2010). I repeat, “survive”. I’ve been making highways into Hunger Games.
What Would Mother Think?
Hearing a pedestrian shout, I immediately threw up a sexual hand gesture I’ll describe only as slightly worse than “Rated R” (ok, a lot worse). Truly, the onus was on me and I didn’t see the pedestrian, but when I looked up I saw a woman who looked around my mother’s age. She even had a similar haircut and body shape. I would not have repeated those things to my mother, and for the rest of the day I dwelled on imagining the pedestrian’s return home to a me-like daughter who would hear her recount and be disgusted with that driver [was that "Inception" enough?].
Can’t You Be “Good” at Lane Jumping?
I’m not. I don’t think you are, either. In fact, Tom Vanderbilt, who wrote a book on traffic titled “Traffic: Why We Drive the Way We Do (and What It Says About Us)”, cited evidence that the coveted gap in traffic is a visual illusion, and concluded that choosing to switch lanes is not only futile but actually further interrupts the natural flow of traffic (Vanderbilt, 2015). Since changing my point of view and picking one lane for the duration of my highway time, I notice fewer confrontations, and especially in areas I previously dreaded (bottlenecks, merging, rotaries a.k.a. roundabouts a.k.a. traffic circles). Admittedly, it does seem longer and slower, but I honestly can’t say that the practice has been the obvious for my tardiness on any particular occasion.
How Does Time Work?
I have no idea! That’s why speeding always seemed like the best way to arrive at my destination which I was already 10 minutes late for when I left the house. Psychological researchers have found that the decision to speed is influences by information of distance and time allotted for a trip, and they even created a formula for it:
Time gain = cD( - )
where cD is the distance (with units converted), v1 is the original speed, and v2 is the higher speed (Eriksson, Svenson & Eriksson, 2013). They asked participants in a driving simulator to gain 3 minutes by adjusting their driving speed, with a fixed distance, and found that drivers beginning at 100kph (kilometers per hour) only gained 2.21 minutes on their travel time, but overestimated the timesaving value of their decision to speed (Eriksson, Svenson & Eriksson, 2013). You don’t have to do the math, but I will estimate that driving 75mph in a 65mph speed limit isn’t going to get you to class on time.
Are They Having a Baby?!
Inadvertently, I discovered an excellent coping mechanism while in a more jovial mood, being cut off, then watching the driver weave between lanes: I thought, ‘Maybe there is a person in the car having a baby!’. Since I’ll never know if that was the case, it’s as good as the truth. I hope they named the baby after me, after feeling so bad about cutting me off.
Following my bizarre line of thinking, the rage didn’t creep in. I was fairly entertained. I now enjoy making up fictitious backstories for the drivers who cut me off. Some have 30 gallons of melting ice cream in the back seat, some desperately need to use the rest room, others believe it’s 1999 and need to get to a party. Whatever the narrative, they become minor characters in the movie of my day (If you live in Mass or New Hampshire, I may have already scripted you).
Showing up Spent?
After a flurry of “Fight or Flight” physiological unrest inside of me, I often arrived at my destinations mentally disheveled. Even joyous destinations didn’t yield a restful commute, because the woes of the road are ever-present. I found myself shaking off the after effects of my anxiety spike long into my engagements. It’s annoying when people ask ‘Are you ok?’ for the first 10 minutes of the night, and usually I feel even worse for dampening the mood.
City driving is particularly triggering for me, but I once took an invite to join friends for last call at Howl at the Moon, a downtown bar I had never been to. I drove about 20 minutes into a byzantine of one-way streets and drunk pedestrians. I became so enraged that I kept driving, back home, screaming. Night ruined. Voice lost. In hindsight, I probably should have taken a rain check or tried to carpool.
Can’t “Kill Em With Kindness”?
Me neither. I realized that in times of extreme vehicular stress, the sounds inside the car were heightening the drama. In a survey of drivers, psychologists state that music contributes to mood and distraction while driving, that volume and tempo contribute to the distractible quality of a given music genre, and acknowledged that having no claims in insurance is most associated with silence (Dibben and Williamson, 2007). Sadly, although Selena Gomez tells me to “Kill Em With Kindness”, I can’t resist killing ‘em with four letter words unless I turn the radio down, if not off, when in intense traffic or navigating unfamiliar places.
Rest assured, my lewd gesture repertoire is still stocked and there are plenty of commutes when the FCC (Federal Communications Commission) should be bleeping my language. However, even amid those road raging moments I try to remain cognizant of the absurdity of my behavior, the afore listed instances, and the perspective of the other driver. There are other tactics to try: use turn signals faithfully, stop slowly, STOP texting/snapping/posting while driving, accept blame for your lateness. Despite your best beliefs, it’s not traffic’s intention to infuriate us. It just can’t help itself. So, help your self.
And, when all else fails, ignore everything I said and turn to Selena:
(Video: Selena Gomez, “Kill Em With Kindness” 2016.Available on iTunes http://smarturl.it/SGRevival)