The best book I read this week was the non-fiction book, Carjacked. Having been a fan of Catherine Lutz’s academic works, I found Carjacked to be an interesting and successful collaboration with her sister, Anne Lutz Fernandez. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t imagine a better platform to write about America’s entrenched love affair with car culture than an anthropologist and a former corporate executive.
I’ll be upfront: my reading Carjacked was like preaching to the choir. I’ve been telling my friends for years that I’m not anti-car, I’m anti-car culture and everything that comes with cars. The traffic, the strip malls, the sprawling suburbs, the parking, the accidents, the pollution, the dependence on foreign oil, the need to express oneself in the type of car one purchases, the decrease in population density, the marketing to teens and even children, the list goes on. Plus it’s so freaking expensive, and it amazes me how many people ignore the “invisible” cost of owning a car and instead go all rah-rah over gas prices. I’m well aware—that the two authors explained—that most of America is only accessible by car, and that it’s an uphill climb to get others to stop driving when their current infrastructure doesn’t yet support mass transit. Lutz and Fernandez cover all of that in Carjacked and more, but the highlight of the book is the discussion of the wealth gap—people who find themselves in communities so car dependent that they cannot get a job or escape natural disaster without some kind of automobile.
So yes, I love this book because it basically articulates what I already think in an engaging, well-written manner. It’s also obvious to me that the authors don’t hate on people who drive cars or even love their cars. It never feels accusatory or mean-spirited. Most of all, I’m a huge fan of the tone Lutz adopts—she’s so careful not to generalize. It’s never “Americans do such and such” it’s always “Many” or “Some,” which is not a big difference to most people but is a big deal to me. If I had a complaint, it would be that it has a lot of numbers, especially in regards to engineering/technology. I’m always wary of statistics because they can be so easily misused. The most convincing evidence for me were anecdotal–people’s words and stories. However, I’m probably not who this book is written for, and most Americans are more swayed by numbers than narrative (and probably didn’t study anthro in college, nor were they former environmental engineering majors…)
Finally, this book was written as a call to action. Lutz and Fernandez offer some great tips in their conclusion, suggesting baby steps in order to change one’s behaviour. Nothing too dramatic, just bring a sensible friend or family member when you go to the car dealership, try out carpooling or mass transit for a week, log all the car trips you make and with whom. There are also suggestions on how to get involved in local government. I don’t necessarily agree that new policies are the answer (because they don’t change behaviour), but that’s just me being cynical about the government—Lutz and Fernandez are far more optimistic. I don’t foresee Americans falling out of love with cars because it’s been so entrenched with their cultural identity for such a long time, with the idea of the frontier, of freedom and independence, etc. like the book expresses. My only suggestion to those who want to become less car-dependent is to move to a city with a great public transportation system already in place, but that’s not exactly practical for a lot of people.