Via Sullivan, Felix Salmon makes a point about the culture of the long-distance commute:
Over the very long term, I suspect we’ll look back on the era of the 85-mile commute as a historical curiosity. That kind of distance is so enormous compared to any kind of human scaling that it just doesn’t make sense as a way to live.
But as we touch on time and again here, it makes absolute sense if what you seek is not rationality but the suburban ideal (or idyll) - which is frequently at odds with it.
Look, I’m a suburbanite born and bred, but I think we can say at this stage of the game that there are vastly different kinds of suburbs out there. I happen to live in an older one, a neighborhood (they didn’t call them “developments” then) built 50 years ago. Mature trees, single-car garages (mostly), brick and stone, large lots set off from one another by the type of shrubbery no one plants anymore. But it’s also, literally, five miles and less than 10 minutes from town/work. If it all goes kaput tomorrow I could theoretically walk or bike to work (and lose that 25 lbs. I’ve long been wanting to shed); but I could certainly take public transportation; it’s a 2-minute walk to the bus stop.
Compare this with the more modern suburban idyll. To begin with, the homes are further out - often not near public transportation, sometimes intentionally so. You live north of Lititz and work in Lancaster you’re certainly not walking or biking to work; if the buses come by you theoretically could catch one, but the whole idea of moving out there in the first place is to be away from the hustle and bustle that, often, includes public transportation.
The homes are different, as well. Bigger, for one -but with a lot of wasted space, in those two-story foyers, etc. The brick and stone are merely for decorational purposes - and indeed, you see these homes under construction and think, How are they going to stand up to a big wind? But they do.
But more than that is the way the backyards all adjoin, aren’t screened from one another. You go to sit on your back porch and everyone in the neighborhood is watching you, or can. It’s sort of creepy (though I suppose you could say it deters crime, etc.). But my impression is that it has the effect of deterring people from sitting out on their back porches; or maybe you buy that kind of home because you weren’t going to, anyway.
These neighborhoods also tend to have a lot of kids, but you don’t often see them out and about. Maybe a couple in the street riding their bikes; but some of these developments, you can drive by/through on a sunny summer day and not see a single child outside. And there’s just something odd, and maybe even unhealthy about that.
I like the suburbs because I like a bit of space between me and my neighbor; I am personally a better neighbor because of that space. At the same time, though, there’s a sterility to these newer suburbs that just gives you the impression of something that was stamped out by a machine, no matter how big the houses themselves may be. Widgets. And I have a hard time understanding the appeal of a widget versus a neighborhood with variety, character. I understand the suburban ideal; it’s the current suburban reality I have a problem with.
