Bus Sociology
By Steve Geller
Published: April, 2001
Steve Geller works as a software engineer for UC Berkeley Space Science Lab. He’d ridden buses previously in Portland and Palo Alto, but when he came to Berkeley and looked at the traffic, not to mention the daily drive up the hill to the Space Science Lab, he became a full-time pass-carrying bus rider. Steve lives in Berkeley, and does nearly all his traveling about the Bay Area using public transit. He belongs to the Alliance for AC Transit / Bus Riders Union, a group working for better bus service. Steve rides buses not only to get from hither to yon, but for the pure fun of watching people.
Any student of sociology or psychology has a great source of field study material available. It’s as close as any main street, and the cost is just bus fare.
People riding a bus are a small-scale model of the larger society. In general, we don’t know one-another well, but have to deal socially with many people on a short-term basis. This is what goes on every day, encapsulated in city buses. People in a bus make up a small, short-term society, which is easy to watch.
People on a bus often talk loudly about personal things, as if nobody else were there. It might be that they regard their fellow riders as non-life — part of the bus equipment. People who talk on cell phones seem to be especially unconscious.
A group of young males will often crowd together on the long seat in the back of the bus. They loudly discuss their alleged sex life, encounters with rivals or just sports. These kids are probably showing off. Maybe the cell phone folks are too.
Talking loudly on the bus could be a kind of exhibitionism. It’s freely tolerated; I almost never see a bus rider tell someone to shut up. This may be because the rider doesn’t wish to get told off by some boorish person. There’s also fear of provoking a violent reaction. Sometimes, if a talking rider gets particularly annoying or foul-mouthed, the bus driver will intervene.
Some bus riders carry on a conversation without any one to talk to. I’ve listened to a long and lucid discussion for several minutes, before realizing that it was single-ended. Once, a guy sitting opposite, showed me a photograph of himself, and began a monologue about — just what I didn’t gather. Eventually, I nodded politely and turned my attention to the window opposite. The guy just kept on talking; he didn’t need a partner.
There’s a lady in Berkeley who carries on these single-ended conversations, but with something extra. According to one of the drivers, she has 13 different personalities. She blames one of the other personalities for any disruption she causes.
There have been some famous observations of East Bay bus riders.
Berkeley photographer Alan Stross rides AC Transit line 51, and during one period, took photos of the wide variety of people he met. He made up an exhibit of 51 color photos, titled 51 on the 51.
Stross just showed people as they were. Some of the bus riders in the pictures smile, pleased with the attention; others remain stolid and indifferent. Looking at the photos, and thinking about what I see every day on the buses, it’s clear that there is no such thing as a "typical" bus rider. There are just various kinds of people.
A film about bus riders Tango 73: A Bus Rider’s Diary was made by Gabriela Quirós, as part of her studies at UC Berkeley. It is a documentary about the people who ride AC Transit line 73 in Richmond. The film showed scenes on the bus, and went beyond, tracing the lives of some of the regular riders. Quirós came from Costa Rica; she compares the rural bus service she grew up with, to the urban bus riding of the East Bay. The film is available as a video: http://www.newday.com/films/Tango73.html
People who ride the same bus lines every day, often get to know one another, and form a little temporary community. In the film, Quirós mentions the "talking seat". This is the seat nearest the front door, where it is easiest to talk to the driver. When I rode the 15 regularly into Berkley in the mornings, a lady would get on early in the run, drop into the talking-seat and have a nice chat with the regular driver. Probably, that driver had a chain of such talking-seat companions, all down the line.
A bus rider community is usually short-term. Most of the time, people stay private; no personal involvement is desired. The main thing a bus rider wants is to get to his desired destination.
It’s like riding an elevator: strangers are compelled to be close together, but have little incentive to make the effort to get acquainted, so they attempt to insulate themselves. Eyes are fixed straight ahead. Hands are kept close to the body. No words are spoken. On a bus, this compelled closeness lasts longer, and there are more people involved, coming and going. This makes the behavior more interesting.
Most of the seats in a city bus are pairs. But most bus riders travel as single individuals, and they do not like sitting next to a stranger. This social repulsion is strong enough to produce almost comical behavior.
To avoid having a seatmate, a rider will "hog" a pair of seats. The rider will sit in the window seat, and sprawl or pile stuff in the aisle seat. Some just sit in the aisle seat, blocking access to the window seat. As the bus fills, these seat hogs hold their territory; not making eye contact with the new riders, hoping the new people will find some place else to sit.
Eventually, as the bus fills, standees will begin to encroach on the seat hogs. Some of the seated people will take notice of the standees, and yield quickly; they move their stuff to their lap, freeing the aisle seat.
Other, more determined seat hogs, will keep up the fixed frontal stare, or read a book, pretending not to notice the standees, until somebody actually indicates the pile of stuff, and asks "is this seat taken?" Everyone involved feels the same repulsion: quite often, someone who plans to get off the bus soon will just stand, rather than confront a seat hog.
The people who camp on the aisle seat tend to hold out longer, ignoring the pointed looks from the standees. The aisle seat hogs could simply move over to the window, but they don’t. Finally, one of the standees will squeeze past, and drop into the window seat. Even then, the seat hog will make only a token effort to move aside.
There are, of course, other ways to keep two seats, especially during the rainy season. Frequent vigorous coughs, or noisy snuffling into a handkerchief will keep potential seat mates away. There are also a few bus riders who don’t often change their clothes, or bathe. These folks usually keep their space too – perhaps until another of their brethren boards.
It’s too bad that bus seats can’t all be singles. There are some single seats on the San Francisco MUNI buses and trams, but most city bus designers seem to have chosen to ignore the phenomenon of rider repulsion, in order to pack in more seated riders.
Riders are not always repelled by one-another. While it’s not easy to tell whether someone you encounter shares origin, work, race or whatever, you can be totally sure that everyone on the bus is a fellow bus-rider. A bus-rider community consciousness does exist, and can bring out behavior quite opposite to seat hogging.
Someone struggling with a stroller, or a load of packages, will usually get help without asking. Fellow riders will quickly retrieve dropped items. The majority of bus riders will get up and offer their seat to a disabled person.
When someone asks directions, the reaction from fellow riders can be even more enthusiastic. On most buses, there are plenty of experts on where things are, how to get there, and what to watch out for. The volume of free advice can be overwhelming. Sometimes advice-givers get into an argument, leaving the person asking the question wondering what’s right.
Most drivers are very helpful to riders. They are part of the community too.
Once a guy with a suitcase got on a northbound 51. He asked the driver if this bus went "downtown". The driver looked a little puzzled, because we were at Center & Shattuck, which is usually considered downtown Berkeley. "Which downtown?" the driver politely asked.
"Oh, somewhere near the Hilton" was the reply. A little more conversation clarified that the desired destination was downtown San Francisco. The driver said that the same bus line going the other way would connect him with a transbay bus, but probably the best way to get to downtown San Francisco would be to cross the street to the Berkeley BART station.
I think it’s not unreasonable for someone from out of town to think that all Bay Area buses converge on San Francisco, but it’s a little strange not to have heard of BART. The bus driver could have said something grumpy about learning a little about the transit system before trying to use it, but instead he was nice and helpful.
It works both ways. Sometimes a driver, new to the route, will shyly ask one of the riders which way he should turn at the next intersection. In any busload, there is guaranteed to be one or more riders who know the route very well. People love to help. If necessary, when a rider-guide has to get off, control will be passed to someone else, until the driver has been guided to the end of the line.
