Pedestrian ethics

Act only according to that maxim whereby you can at the same time will that it should become a universal law.

--Immanuel Kant

I was standing on a street corner this afternoon, waiting (it seemed) interminably for the "Wait" signal to turn to "Walk." I saw no traffic coming in either direction, so I ignored the signal and strode into the crosswalk. Several people on the opposite corner looked at me, and then at the traffic signal, in apparent confusion. One woman started automatically into the crosswalk, then pulled back. Finally, everyone crossed against the "Walk" light.

This happens all the time, especially in a nice honest, clean-cut town like Seattle, filled with nice Scandinavian people who instinctively obey the law. (New York readers are free to move along to the next blog.) This isn't the first time I've noticed others ill-advisedly follow my lead when they see me cross the street impatiently.

As I walked on, fortunately unscathed, I recalled Kant's "Categorical Imperative." Mr. Kant's rule of ethics would require us --paraphrasing sloppily -- to ask ourselves each time we act whether the world would be better or worse if everyone did what we were about to do. In other words, said Kant, pretend that by each of your actions (or failures to act) you are prescribing universal rules of conduct.

When I crossed the street against the light, others took my act as permission for them to do the same thing. The Categorical Imperative suddenly became less abstract. I had in fact legislated morality -- traffic morality -- for some of my fellow citizens.

If everyone ignores the traffic signals when they feel it's safe to do so, is that good? Is that the kind of world I want to live in? Some people would reply, "Of course!" Those people are called New Yorkers, and we have five boroughs set aside for them, a playground where they -- free souls who thrive on chaos and mayhem -- can rub up against each other.

And who knows? Maybe I really am a New Yorker at heart. But I don't think so, or anyway I hope I'm not. At least not in this one respect. From now on, I think I'll ask the question posed by Immanuel Kant anytime I'm tempted to override the traffic control and step blithely off the curb -- do I really want everyone to be doing this?