My college roommate has never been an easy guy to cohabit with, a lesson his wife soon learned. He can be obnoxious. She is strong-willed. They make a fiery pair. A few years ago he was griping about needing some space. She took his dinner plate—complete with steak and baked potato—opened the kitchen door, and heaved it into the back yard. He not only had space … but dinner alfresco, too.
Space envelopes have a large, invisible, but dramatic effect on human behavior. Americans prefer a safe social distance of three feet or so (about an arm’s length). As long as people we’re talking with socially give us that much room, we’re comfortable. If someone crowds closer and infringes on that space without our permission, we become uncomfortable.
In the crowded Far East, space envelopes are significantly smaller. People are raised with great numbers sharing tight confines. Raised that way, Asians are comfortable with more crowded conditions than Americans; their required space envelopes are more compact.
Space envelopes are so predictable that law enforcement and military personnel us them to determine crowd size. Three feet by three feet is nine square feet. By measuring the amount of land a crowd occupies and dividing by nine square feet, officials can accurately estimate how many people are attending an event, or how many an area will comfortably hold before trouble is likely to break out. This helps set capacity limits. Too many in a finite space will create problems. We demand our invisible box, gosh darn it! And if we don’t get it, we’ll fight for it!
Circumstance dictates the expansion and contraction of our desired space envelope, based on preferences and relationships. Strangers we expect to keep their distance. Friends are allowed closer. Intimacies grant full access.
This invisible “box” of comfort and protection extends to our cars, too. Each of us has an emotional safety zone we’re comfortable with when driving. When someone encroaches into that space envelope, we get upset. Space violations cause a natural, knee-jerk, hostile emotional reaction: fight or flee. Fighting is the physical reaction to emotional stress. Fleeing requires evasive action; harnessing the temptation to fight by choosing not to.
Encroachment cause the same emotional stress and fear whether we’re inside a car, walking down an alley, or working a crowed room at a party with more strangers than friends.
This was never more evident to me than a few years ago riding through the streets of Chennai, India–the most remarkable rolling chaos I’ve ever seen. Space envelopes? Grant the guy in front of you a car length and it is instantly filled by three motorcycles, a family of five on a scooter, a matu vandi cow, two pedicabs, and a bicyclist balancing a huge bag of something on his head with his wife on the handlebars and his kid side-saddle on the crossbar. The envelope is zero. Take it or leave it. Day one was terrifying. After a week we didn’t notice and melded into the scrum.
The key to learning how to manage road rage is to understand why we react to vehicular menacing the way we do. Once we know emotions always rise during perceived space encroachments, we’re in a much stronger place to react smartly rather than irrationally.
The worse the economy gets, the more road rage you’ll see due to the accumulated frustrations people are carrying around. Many are struggling with multiple burdens, unable to properly manage their Worry Circles. Burdens create distractions and distractions smokescreen awareness. People snap from stress; sometimes space envelope encroachment is that final straw.
Coach others on the importance of learning about the cause of road rage. Teach it to them and urge them to pass it on to others they care about.
This is a life skill. It is not taught in schools between math and science.
Above all, happy motoring.