If we view the
subway as a public good, what better way to spend money raised in taxes from mass
transit than an underground train and a comfortable climate-controlled motorbus
that for a reasonable fee takes you to distant places in a sprawling urban
metropolis like New York City. And yet, for those working to provide these
services, an observation:
What appears to
be the indifference of scheduling that will, regularly during my daily commute,
thwart a very convenient transfer when the D Train, an express line to
Manhattan, arrives in Brooklyn’s Atlantic terminal less than a minute before
the announcement of the arrival of the northboard local R train. The doors open
for the express, then close, the R Train pulls into the station with, on
average, several hundred commuters like me looking to make this desirable
transfer, only to be disappointed, if not angered, by the sight of the express
train pulling out of the station.
How to feel for
the motorpeople and conductors on both of these trains. All day long this
happens, say, in a regular eight-hour shift, in places all along the system,
each time the train employees have to feel the charged energy of the poorly
served fee-paying passengers. A week, a month of this kind of inhumane
treatment and what results? A disrespect for the riders, the losers and poor
saps. The absence of pride that comes from a job well done. At best, a sense of
frustration that their bosses obviously don’t give a hoot about them, the
front-line workers who must fill the impossible roles of being just cogs in a
wheel that doesn’t roll as it should.
It would take
only a simple tool to fix this scheduling problem, to correct it like one does
a flat tire, but the bosses don’t think enough of their workers to provide them
the tool. So they give up. Drive the train; open the subway doors. Collect
their pay. The promise of a public good lost in the miasma of bureaucracy.
Next: Running for Your Life: Paris Mood
2015
