THE GREAT FLORENTINE observer of human nature, Nicolo Machiavelli, famously wrote, “There is nothing more difficult to take in hand, more perilous to conduct, or more uncertain in its success, than to take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things.”

Most people say, or think, that they like change. We like to vote for “change agents.” When we say that it’s important, for personal growth, to break away from our comfort zones, we are recognizing the usefulness of change to enrich our lives. We support calls for “reform.” Supporting change in these contexts is easy because it is largely theoretical, something people assume applies to others, not to them. The reality is that change is hard.

People get accustomed to the status quo, with little regard to whether the status quo actually works well, or works fairly. This is known as “status quo bias” – it is a way of thinking that leads people to reject change, even necessary change, because they can’t think outside the status quo box.

Change often happens quickly, and absent the development of any consensus.  Across history there are many examples of such changes, disruptions of the status quo we call “pattern breaks.” Covid-19 is the most recent global example of a pattern break, but there are others that are worth noting. The discovery of penicillin was a pattern break for the good, as it triggered a revolutionary change in the treatment of infections. The antibiotic era introduced by Fleming’s discovery has benefitted millions upon millions of people ever since. 

I’m thinking today of another pattern break, one with decidedly less positive impacts. That’s the use of the assembly line to manufacture the Model T Ford.  Henry Ford’s innovation, the ability to mass produce cars at affordable prices, triggered the era of automobility. What had been considered a luxury item of little use to the average American rapidly became a travel mode deemed a necessity. We live with the consequences of that pattern break today, as automobility retains its vise-like grip on most Americans and how they think about travel.

This autocentric thinking has led to a virtual monopoly of the use of finite public space by the automobile. Think of it: the urban streetscape is a finite public resource, paid for by all municipal taxpayers without regard to whether they own a car or drive. In a fair world, this finite space would be fairly allocated among all users.

For example, on a street as wide and important as Boylston Street in Boston, you’d have a lane dedicated for busses to pick up or drop off riders who may be shopping or connecting to subway lines. There would also be a protected and dedicated cycling lane – in addition to vehicular travel lanes.

No one could make a fairness argument that advocated for dedicating all street space to one travel mode. As well as being unfair, such an allocation would be unsafe for non-drivers and it would encourage the kind of travel behavior most people want to change – behavior that causes higher emissions, more traffic congestion and an overall degradation of the livability of the public realm. 

When the former editor of the Boston Globe wrote recently that the introduction of protected bike lanes along Boylston Street was somehow misguided, he was reflecting a status quo bias that large urban travel ways should be reserved and used only by drivers. He was parroting the status quo bias of the Back Bay Association, a group that apparently sees itself as guardians of a 20th century mobility mindset.

Rather than be participants in making change happen, they decry the “chaos” they observe along the street. I make frequent use of Boylston Street as a pedestrian, and the only chaos I have observed this summer has been the chaos of unregulated home delivery activities in the vicinity of the Chick-fill-A. 

But let’s be clear: “chaos” is a proxy for “I don’t like change, or the immediate consequences of change.” Change requires people to behave differently, and this comes with a natural process of acclimation to the new conditions. In the case of Boylston Street, it requires drivers to be mindful that they need to share the finite streetscape fairly and safely with others. This is not a big ask. 

Here’s the thing, folks: We can’t build the urban society most of us say we want if we do not embrace change from the 20th century status quo that got us here in the first place. A status quo that encourages traffic congestion and high levels of carbon and particulate matter emissions, a status quo that treats pedestrians and cyclists unfairly and unsafely, a status quo that has learned very little from the recent pandemic in terms of how people want to live and move in the urban public realm – this status quo cannot be and will not be our future.

I do not ride a bike. But I fully understand and support the need for safe, protected cycling lanes across the city. We cannot continue to encourage unfettered automobility in the urban core and meet all the quality of life targets (emissions, social equity, basic fairness) most of us believe are held as a matter of broad consensus.

Times change; habits and preferences change, and the choice is simple: We can rage against the change as King Canute before the approaching tide, or we can embrace change, and work to improve it.

I call on the naysayers to stop complaining and to rise to the occasion by supporting and improving the introduction of new things. We used to call Boston the “livable city.” That’s only going to be true in this century if we accept and respond to the changes in how people are moving about, including the rise of cycling as a preferred mode of travel.

We who call this city home have an obligation to embrace the future, which is something our forefathers failed to do in the first half of the last century. We know how that worked out – a city in serious decline, saved only by the good luck of having political leaders like John Hynes, John Collins and Kevin White, and civic activists like Mel King, Anna DeFronzo and Mary Ellen Welch – names some may not recognize today, but people who understood the urgent necessity of change to build a better city. 

We have large shoes to fill. We need to do better.

James Aloisi is a former Massachusetts transportation secretary and a member of the TransitMatters Board.