[ad_1]
Konstanze Fritsch knows how quickly a meeting can spiral out of control. “I recommend that you put yourself in the shoes of a friendly ethnologist who wants to learn something about other people.” Rather than broadcasting your own opinion out loud, you must first listen with interest.
Fritsch does not mediate between divided clan families or fanatics of Schalke and BVB, he moderates a discussion between residents and the road construction authority in Berlin-Friedrichshain in February, shortly before the start of the crown pandemic. These are bollards, which were supposed to stop traffic in a residential area since August 2019. The neighborhood gathering, accompanied by loud boos, is part of an evaluation of the project by the district, which lasted until October.
When it comes to cars, new barriers, and more space for pedestrians and cyclists, discussions quickly turn emotional. The alleged car haters are irreconcilable with the alleged yesterday. That was the case before the pandemic, and will continue to be.
Photo: Thomas Grabka / DER SPIEGEL
Regardless of whether there are bollards in Berlin, pop-up bike lanes in Munich, or car-free access to the Old Town like in Tübingen in Germany, even the smallest traffic interventions cause big disagreements.
The absurdity can be seen in the discussion on bollards in Berlin-Friedrichshain. Bollards were installed at three of the 15 intersections in Samariterkiez, which certainly lengthens certain routes for drivers, but significantly increases safety in the neighborhood, for example, on the way to school. Because the huge traffic has drastically decreased, which makes many residents happy.
But not all: “Nobody asked us”, the opponents of the bollard complain. Locks are perceived by some as invasive behavior by administration and politics. “I don’t see traffic calming down, just a change in traffic,” says one man. The residents also fight each other. “If you are looking for peace and quiet, move to the country,” yells a woman from the Poller faction.
There is a similar bitter discussion about pop-up bike lanes that were built in various German cities in response to the pandemic. In Berlin the dispute has been in the courts for a long time, currently in Munich in the town hall between the parliamentary groups. There the few temporary bike lanes will be abolished again.
“Transport policy is very emotional,” says green politician Boris Palmer from Tübingen. Before the dispute over the refugees began, it was trafficking issues that had been heated up in discussions and on social media. Palmer undoubtedly has relevant experience in this area: on Facebook, he regularly messes with die-hard drivers and with all those who, in his opinion, are ignorant of migration issues.
Car-free access to the old town of Tübingen?
Palmer himself experienced how polarizing traffic problems are. The mayor of Tübingen wanted to block a major entrance to the old town for normal cars so that cyclists could have more space on the narrow street. In late 2019, Tübingen banned cars for eight weeks to examine the effect of the measure. Only buses and taxis could continue to use Mühlstrasse.
“Of course there was alternative traffic,” says Palmer. But based on city traffic counts, there were 1,000 fewer cars a day than before the closing. At the same time, the number of cyclists increased on the closed Mühlstrasse, possibly also due to good weather.
Photo: Oliver Killig / DER SPIEGEL
Palmer was happy with the test. “I want to convince people with facts.” But that really didn’t work. During the eight-week trial period, resistance formed on social media and some business owners on Mühlstrasse reported a decrease in the number of customers.
Finally, the city council asked the citizens of Tübingen if they wanted the Mühlstrasse to be closed permanently. The result was different from what Palmer expected. Instead of a clear majority, the population of Tübingen was divided: 52 percent were against the blockade, 48 percent were in favor.
What Palmer calls a failure, after all, Tübingen is a bastion of the Greens, probably simply reflects the divided relationship between Germans and cars. On the one hand, the sheet metal is still sacred to many, but the automotive group no longer has a clear majority as it was ten or twenty years ago.
The previous generation sticks to the car
This was also the result of the ADAC, which had asked its members on the subject of speed limits on freeways. Almost half of the ADAC members defended Tempo 130, a vote unthinkable just a few years ago.
The loss of importance of the automobile, which has long been predicted by some mobility researchers, appears to be manifesting itself. But only with some of the people. The older generation in particular, at least as the Tübingen figures show, holds its own in the car.
Yet Palmer is still surprised by the voting behavior: “The older people who voted against the closure of Mühlstrasse hardly use it.” It is mainly the travelers who travel there. “The old people do not vote against the blockade for their own interest, but for principles,” says the green politician.
The challenges for municipalities are great. In booming cities in particular, transportation systems are increasingly reaching their limits: blocked roads, poor bicycle infrastructure, and regularly crowded buses and trains until the pandemic. But instead of the planned change in traffic, in many places you can only see things happening.
More roads, more traffic
It should be clear to everyone involved: in cities at least, the car is primarily part of the problem and not part of the solution. At least some local politicians, generally green, have recognized it.
“More roads mean more car traffic,” says Florian Schmidt, Berlin Friedrichshain-Kreuzberg green building councilor. The phrase could also be changed: “Fewer roads generate less traffic.”
He has opened several pop-up bike lanes in his district and wants to divide the public transport space more fairly. Cars take up two thirds of all space, but they only make up a third of the means of transport in Friedrichshain-Kreuzberg. Schmidt wants to change that, and is likely to meet even stronger resistance than with the bollards in the Samaritan district.
At least there, things have smoothed out a bit. In the extensive online survey in August and September, most residents gave constructive and differentiated responses. In its evaluation report, the Friedrichshain-Kreuzberg district concluded that the dismantling of the bollards is currently out of the question. But he wants to see if the traffic calm in Samariterkiez can still be improved.
The mayor of Tübingen, Palmer, also wants to continue fighting for a traffic change. He continues to consider car-free access to the old town essential, despite the resistance of the public: “Our aim must be to reduce car traffic.” Mühlstrasse is the main hub for bicycle traffic in Tübingen. “You cannot do a local climate strategy without solving this problem.”
