Exploration and curiosity has always played some sort of role in life. Within the context of growing up, I explored the neighbourhood to no end — meaning I took my bike and rode it through every path or winding road that I could find … on the sidewalk that is. As I got older, I always found myself fascinated by the stories we could find within the boundaries of the sidewalk — so many tales ranging from the simple walk in the park to a daily struggle in life to survive.
These days while spending so much time in lines and on subways each day, I find myself pondering about how we walk, and more specifically, on the sidewalk and the peculiar patterns that surface when we identify how we use the sidewalk and what they are for.
A city sidewalk by itself is nothing. It is an abstraction. It means something only in conjunction with the buildings and other uses that border it, or border other sidewalks very near it [...] Streets and their sidewalks, the main public places of a city, are its most vital organs. – Jane Jacobs
As a way of thinking everything through, I’ve been fiddling around with illustrations and so far I have come up with these:

One of the most typical behaviours of many pedestrians is to stand and talk. Why not right? The sidewalk is after all a public space. It’s funny in my opinion because as Jane Jacobs had pointed out many years ago, that sidewalks have gradually shrunk in size as roads gradually increased.
Many pedestrians probably find it annoying to walk down the street and have to weave through a pack of people just chatting away in the middle of the sidewalk.
Emily Post’s Etiquette refers to them as the Stationary Schmoozers:
It’s amazing how many people plant themselves in the middle of the sidewalk to chat, seemingly oblivious to other pedestrians. When crossing paths with friends and deciding to talk, pedestrians should move to one side so as not to pede the flow of foot traffic, whether they’re a group of two or twenty.
The Common Responses:
- Break hard — tip toe around
- Squeeze through
- Plow through

On the other occasions while strolling down the street, we end up behind or participating in an off-balanced game of chicken with people who decide to walk together side-by-side despite the obvious fact that the width of the sidewalk is rather limited.
Amusingly enough, Emily Post’s Etiquette refers to them as the Phalanxers:
A modern definition of phalanx: a line of clueless pedestrians who walk abreast and make it impossible for anyone to pass. When people are walking together, they should be sure not to block anyone who’s trying to get by.
The Common Responses:
- Excuse me?
- Look beyond the faces and walk straight ahead (they’ll make room)
- Plow through
- Run around
- Evasive maneuvers! [be nimble and agile]

We are all pretty aware of how dynamic the sidewalk really is and how lively pedestrians can be, but none of it can usually prepare us for the excruciating and most frustrating experience of suddenly not being able to predict where someone walking in front of us is going. Perhaps you’re following the guy who wasn’t paying attention and walked into a fire hydrant — who knows? Just as you decide to move to your right, they drift that way, so you instantly change your mind to move left — only to have them drift left … leaving you scowling.
This is either simply because they’re looking up at the clouds and daydreaming, window shopping, or playing with their Blackberry. Again, Emily Post’s Etiquette has a nice nickname prepared:
The Meanderthal. This pedestrian might also be dubbed the Veerer, since he often suddenly decides to walk diagonally rather than straight ahead. His more common trait is walking slowly and aimlessly while everyone about him is keeping to a faster pace.
The Common Responses:
- Patiently follow this person and wait for him or her to be influenced by external factors or come to a level of self-actualization where they can make the decision on their own.
- Pick a direction to pass them on — and run!
- Go buy a tea or coffee and chill out.
The most awkward (and the most fun at times) experience is when we confront this type of pedestrian in situation of opposing directions. As person A is unsure of where the other is going — and person B is awaiting person A to make up their mind and take a path. This is when we unveil the game of mimicry. This is a game that lasts a mere few seconds because typically at some point during this fast-paced game, one of the persons involved gives up or forfeits, and let’s the other one pass.
The beauty of how we walk on sidewalks is that aside from the odd bump or brush on the shoulder (and perhaps collisions with people with many bags), the movement is pretty fluid — like cells flowing through a body’s circulatory system. I think James Surowiecki in his dated but still very relevant book The Wisdom of Crowds summarizes William H. Whyte’s observation on the urban pedestrian very well:
What Whyte saw–and made us see–was the beauty of a well-coordinated crowd, in which lots of small, subtle adjustments in pace and stride and dirction add up to a relatively smooth and efficient flow. Pedestrians are constantly anticipating each other’s behavior. No one tells them where or when or how to walk. Insead, they all decide or themselves what they’ll do based on their best guess of what everyone else will do. And somehow it usually works out well. There is a kind of collective genius at play here.
It’s just as fascinating to observe how people respond to other pedestrians. You may have noticed some Facebook groups such as these and even joined their cause:
- I Secretly Want to Punch Slow-Walking People in the Head
- Fast Walking People!
- Anti-Hall Clogging People and Slow Walkers
I’ve been working on illustrating more patterns on the sidewalk but in the meantime, which type of pedestrian are you? Are you guilty of a particular behaviour? Do you standby that characteristic? Let me know if I should add another type to the poll.
Welcome to Sidewalk Politics.
Credit for character descriptions: (Page 21) Emily Post’s Etiquette













