Talking pedestrian walk signals (and how to break them)

white walking man on traffic lightorange "don't walk" signal on traffic light

Pedestrian walk signals are, well, rather pedestrian for most of us. We take them for granted. They’re intended to get us across the street safely and, more generally, to enable pedestrians and vehicles to coexist and cooperate in close quarters. They’ve evolved somewhat over the years, but some features (like the little white walking man and orange “don’t walk” hand above) have been around for a long time. One could question those choices (a white man? an orange hand?) but it’s probably too late now. We’re so used to them that changing them now would just create traffic chaos. There are more worthwhile battles out there.

walking person icontraffic light iconrunning person icon

The countdown timer (below) is a relatively more recent addition to many stoplights. What’s a bit disconcerting about them though is that they each have different tallies. These are probably scientifically deduced, based on street width, number of pedestrians, volume of traffic, etc., but it’s still a bit unsettling not to know whether I’ll be getting a 5, 10, 15, or 20-or-more count to scuttle across the street once that white walking man disappears. If I'm in an unfamiliar neighbourhood, there’s no way to know for sure until the countdown begins. If I follow the rules and start out only when the white walking man appears, I'm already in the intersection. So the big question is always, will I find myself going from leisurely stroll to hotwalk to frenzied gallop because this timer’s only giving me a 5? It certainly adds some excitement to even the most mundane walk.

countdown timer on a traffic light, showing a 9

Sounds were added more than 10 years ago, starting with the “cuckoo sound when the north-south walk light is active, and … a chirp-chirp sound when the east-west walk light is active” (at least, that’s how it’s described in Surrey). I recall when my mother last visited Vancouver, (circa 2010), going for a walk with her and finding myself half way across the street before realizing that she hadn’t moved and was still standing by the signal trying to spot the bird whose sounds she could hear. That she wasn’t familiar with the sound likely means they weren’t being used yet in Ontario. Although it’s entirely possible she was doing the same thing at home too. She was an avid birder and always easily distracted from whatever task she had on hand.

Some cursory googling shows there was a movement afoot around that time to replace the chirps with something called the Canadian Melody to rescue those distractable birders (oh, and also because the sound wasn’t distinctive or loud enough to be heard over traffic), but as I’ve never heard that melody in BC, I guess that didn’t take hold anywhere, aside from Prince George. Of course, I’ve never been to Prince George, so perhaps that explains it.

Over the past couple of years, pedestrian walk signal sounds have evolved and expanded to address the needs of the visually impaired. The signal at the corner of my street when first installed had a repertoire of announcements in addition to the chirps and cuckoos. It would utter a sharp “Wait!” when you pushed the button if the light was red, and a rather robotic “Walk Signal Is On” when the white walking man appeared. And a little red light would come on above the button. I must here confess to taking a perverse childish delight in pushing the button just to hear it bark “Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait!” repeatedly (but usually only when I was on my own). I know, I know. I need to get a life.

However, in the last couple of months, that same signal (now slightly soiled, above) has stopped barking “Wait!” altogether or turning on that little red light. It still tells me “Walk Signal Is On,” but seems to have lost its desire to prevent me stepping out into moving traffic.

It’s probably a battery issue or a question of aging equipment (maybe that mud that also sullied the sign got into the works?), but some inner part of my brain thinks it’s exacting revenge for my repeated button-pushing. Or maybe I truly did break the thing, so the concomitant risks to my neighbours are all on my head. Oops.

No comments:

Post a Comment