Before reading this column, I encourage you to look up the selective attention test of Daniel Simons and Christopher Chabris. (An Internet search of “selective attention test” should return it as a result.)
The test is a video that runs for about a minute and gauges the effects of a person’s attention while performing a simple task.
The lesson of the test is that divided attention, even when performing a very simple task, can keep people from seeing what is right in front of them.
It is with this in mind that I want to turn your attention to the relationship between cars and bicycles.
I can recall having read a gruesome column in the Alligator as a freshman cyclist. The column detailed the traumatic experience of another Gainesville cyclist.
“I awoke bloody and in sharp pain at 2:25 a.m. on Sept. 4. I couldn’t tell you what city I lived in, what my name was or what happened.
What I do remember is shoving my jaw back into place, spitting blood into the street and watching all the sparkling headlights flying past me without hesitating to see if I was OK. My concussion made the truth blurry, but from my bruises and broken bones, it seemed I was clipped by a vehicle on my bicycle.”
That image has lingered with me for almost four years and has almost certainly saved me from danger. It has caused me to create habits of safety. I always wear a helmet, look both ways and often even wait to make eye contact with drivers on the road before I move.
Lately though, I’ve found it harder to make eye contact with drivers. Instead of having their eyes fixed on the road, I will often see stopped drivers looking down at their phones and texting. This is a dangerous habit. This habit kills people.
In 2009, more than 5,400 people died in accidents involving a distracted driver, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
Let that sink in for a moment.
I’m going to assume you’ve taken the selective attention test by now. The punch line of the test, so to speak, is that a gorilla walks in halfway through the test, thumps his chest and walks off screen. This comes as a complete surprise to about half of those who watch the video.
When I took the test, I didn’t see the gorilla either. He seemed to come out of nowhere. I was distracted — and I just wasn’t looking for a gorilla.
Let’s take a more complex action like driving. What would happen if you were only looking for cars and nothing else? Would you see a cyclist?
What if you were distracted by music? Would that hinder your ability to avoid hurting someone?
What about talking on the phone? What about texting?
What about driving under the influence of alcohol? That killed about 10,000 people in 2010, which is about as many homicides with firearms in the same year.
Most people who set out to travel don’t do it with the intention of hurting someone. Someone’s flirty text, or someone’s jamming out on air guitar or someone’s night out clubbing can turn into a lost life.
What about just simple aggressive driving? I’ve been a passenger and witnessed drivers lumber around in their engines of destruction, flopping their cars about when they get frustrated, in the most careless fashion. It’s just not acceptable.
Many bikers also engage in risky behavior, which is equally unacceptable.
We should all be more careful on the road and keep a lookout for each other. We all just want to get where we’re going. Let’s try to make that happen with as little pain as possible.
The text can wait.
Brandon Lee Gagne is an anthropology senior at UF. His column runs on Fridays. You can contact him via opinions@alligator.org.
