When Does a Human Become a Data Point?

When does an artist become famous?

Samantha Yannucci
5 min readJun 23, 2022

The purpose of this writing is not to discuss road diets and street design, but the logic by which traffic engineering decisions are made.

Below is a photo of an intersection outside of a new brewery in Youngstown, Ohio.

Google Earth image of East Federal St & Andrews Ave intersection in Youngstown, Ohio. The brewery is to open this month in the building marked with the star.

I walk through this intersection often, between my bus stop, the post office, and my office, which is located above the new brewery. As you can probably imagine, this is not a comfortable walk.

Looking east above East Federal St.

The “design” of the streets that create the intersection — with their wide lanes and continuous right turns––encourage high vehicular speeds and mindless driving. It makes a highly unnerving pedestrian.

Location Context

This intersection is located on the east end of Downtown Youngstown, where until recently, not much investment had been made. But now, this side of the City is seeing new life after two formerly industrial buildings were purchased by young local business owners. The east end will be home to three businesses whose former operations were in temporary locations: a brewery and taproom (that also has another business––a cidery and taproom––in the same building), and an artisan market. Both businesses already have large followings and will serve customers directly on their premises. We expect the east end to be booming when the brewery opens its doors this month.

Each time I walk through this intersection, I wonder what the City is doing to ensure downtown visitors can safely travel between the east and west ends of the City. This will become increasingly important considering that patrons of the brewery will be under the influence of alcohol.

Engineer Speak

As an urban planner inclined to travel by foot and bike, I thought I’d take my concerns to the City’s traffic engineer. I sought to understand how we can expedite a road diet that would increase the comfort and safety of those walking and biking, and simultaneously increase on-street parking opportunities (a concern for the brewery)––in both the short and longterm.

Intersection with approximate pedestrian crossing distances in feet.

As we sat in the brewery’s office, which overlooks the intersection, I explained my concerns and my personal experience with the intersection. I detailed how cars fly through the intersection, make blind right turns, and how the safety measures for pedestrians are inadequate for a street that encourages such high speeds. (Let’s be real, a four inch curb can only do so much.) When walking from west to east, one cannot see the traffic signals, so it’s a guessing game as to the best time to cross. In short, to cross through this intersection by foot or bike today, you have to be either brave, stupid, or have no other options.

For a short-term solution, we were told to pursue a temporary permit for customers of the brewery to park on the street on summer evenings. In relation to permanent improvements, I was told that the intersection has been this way for decades; the data points do not exist to suggest permanent improvements are necessary; there have not been pedestrian-related “issues” reported at this intersection; the City would have to conduct a traffic study before any improvements were made; and that nothing would be done within the next five years.

Nobody questions a structural engineer when they’re building a bridge. Nobody checks to see if they’re doing it right. Yet, everybody wants to question a traffic engineer.

- the traffic engineer

Data with a Pulse

I find the traffic engineer’s points disturbing. I admit I had a sour taste in my mouth the moment I heard, “this is how it’s always been”. We are in this situation because of that very attitude. But it’s worthy to note that in this particular situation, the intersection was designed for a population that no longer exists. (And presumably before the concept of induced demand was accepted. Is it accepted? Or are algorithms just shrinking my circle of influence?) Youngstown has lost over 60 percent of its population since the 1970s. The demand that would necessitate over a dozen lanes to feed into a single intersection simply does not exist.

Furthermore, the function of the east end of the city is changing, and the businesses that are now here will be attracting visitors into their establishments. These visitors are downtown because they want a downtown experience. I would bet they would gladly travel between the east and west ends of the City by foot or bike if the infrastructure enabled safe, convenient, and comfortable passage.

But most disturbing to me is not the intersection itself, but the notion of the traffic engineer’s “datapoint”. First, how data for street improvements is collected and analyzed. Of course there are no pedestrian-related issues reported at this intersection; the design of the intersection has effectively eliminated the presence of pedestrians. And, we cannot measure what does not exist.

Second, who the engineer is serving. I am a living being reporting issues at this intersection, yet I am not considered to be data. If the experience of a living human being who regularly uses this intersection is not considered data, then who are our engineers serving? Must we be injured or die before we are considered? Must we wait until long after our experience has expired?

The seemingly safest crossing point.

We Could Do Better

I wonder how the next wave of engineers will flip the script. Will they dare to be trailblazers? Will they adapt to current realities? Will they return our streets to humans and recognize them for their potential to better quality of life? To mitigate for a changing climate? Will they use common sense to better the experience for living, breathing humans before it is too late? Or will they continue business as usual?

If you are an early career engineer, I would love to know how you are challenging the norms in your field. Please, give me hope.

--

--

Samantha Yannucci

An urban planner, tortured by her illusive experiences of living in Europe, pushes an inconvenient quality-of-life agenda in northeast Ohio.