The American Affair: In Love with the Automobile

"The American really loves nothing but his automobile."

-William Faulkner, 1948

Well here we are, the American people, in uncharted territory. Many institutions are on their way out, including among them some symbols of American identity (a few time-honored newspapers come to mind). The last few posts have been about politics, a topic that deserves attention lately. But with the recent merger of Chrysler with Fiat, I'd like to focus in on a symbol of American identity that has defined us for more than a century.

The Boston Globe recently put out an article on how the image and symbol of the automobile in America is changing, and could even be on its way out. Ironically, the Globe too was looking like it was on its way out until a few hours ago when the New York Times Co. struck a deal with the Boston Newspaper Guild (read more here).

The truth is, we do love our cars. David E. Shi of the Philadelphia Inquirer, in his 2000 article "Well America, Is the Car Culture Working?" writes:

"Americans have always cherished personal freedom and mobility, rugged individualism and masculine force. The advent of the horseless carriage combined all these qualities and more. The automobile traveled faster than the speed of reason; it promised to make everyone a pathfinder to a better life. It was the vehicle of personal democracy, acting as a social leveling force, granting more and more people a wide range of personal choices - where to travel, where to work and live, where to seek personal pleasure and social recreation."

Funny enough, Shi describes in his article how the first cars were considered a very clean transportation model: they had nowhere near the waste that horse carriages created from urine and manure to carriage "breakdowns" (dead horse carcasses that had to be cleared from the street).

As the American car industry grew, so did our love for these symbols of American mythology. Much like the American Western of the 1940s-70s, the car became a part of American mythology, representing freedom, progress, and the quality most identifiable with the American brand of automobile-power.

Americans have always been known for our love for power, and the influence of automobiles on this is greatly recognized. Also, the question of progress in the introduction of the automobile is simple. Horses and other team animals were too difficult to work with so we created something newer, better, and more efficient-the combustion engine. Just like the heyday of the railroad, the automobile represented a mythology of unhindered horizons. It should not be forgotten that progress became a sort of harbinger of American patriotism, helped along by the production mentality of World War II and the sheer number of weapons produced in American factories. This patriotism of production carried over to American car production after the war, and progress has been connected to the automobile ever since (even while Detroit faded into ruin and our beloved American cars rolled across assembly lines in many other countries).

It is interesting that freedom is included in this list. Originally, when the first Model T's rolled off the assembly line, this quality's attachment to the automobile made sense. For travelers constrained by the ownership, upkeep, and endurance of a horse or team of horses, a mechanized engine restricted only by its gas tank greatly increased the feeling of freedom. One aspect of the newfound freedom existed with the opportunity, for example, to escape the bustling city for the countryside. The horizons were suddenly much more open. Also, for the travel across long and rugged distances, a car trumped the horse which, despite its speed and toughness, still required relatively high maintenance as a living animal that needed to be fed and rested.

Freedom remains a symbol attached to the automobile. Maybe a more accurate term to use in modern times would be flexibility. I can only speak for myself and when I am in stuck in commuter traffic on the offramp, horns banging away, the word freedom doesn't exactly come to mind. Akin to our national park system, "freedom" becomes a way of saying "it's there if I want it, and I don't want it that often." In this way, freedom becomes connected with a perceived need. In our nation with relative scarcity of rail and public transportation systems, the possibility of driving anywhere we want becomes of utmost necessity. For instance, I live in Los Angeles and I couldn't imagine not having a car because-how would I get to Las Vegas if I wanted to? I am asked how often I need to travel to Las Vegas. Maybe once a year but that's not the point-the opportunity has to exist for me to pack up my car and leave for the casinos tonight if I want to. That is modern freedom that is provided by ownership of an automobile.

David E. Shi, of Furman University, has this to say in his article "Well, America: is the Car Culture Working?":

"The automobile retains its firm hold over our psyche because it continues to represent a metaphor for what Americans have always prized: the seductive ideal of private freedom, personal mobility, and empowered spontaneity."

But of course our "necessities" and expenses are being challenged with far-reaching consequences of pollution and higher prices for car ownership:

"More conscious of the true costs of driving, we are rethinking not just these discretionary trips but the very structure of our lives. Because we could afford to drive there, we bought larger houses in far-flung exurbs; we now revisit the appeal of in-town living and walkable neighborhoods. The 'need' for three cars and the reasonableness of driving 15,000 miles a year are being challenged."

The perceived need for this type of freedom (with not a little help from the powers of advertisement) has convinced us that we need our cars. Until we get away from this perception as a nation, we will be convinced of our freedom while remaining odd slaves of consumption.

Is it a good thing that the automobile is "dying"? That depends on your outlook. Mother Nature will be pleased, to say the least. The automobile's death march is her well-deserved respite after years of capitulating to its heavy demands. But she should not be excited, car culture will not soon crash. The death march is long and slow-more of an aria than a one and a half minute raucous Operation Ivy tune.

I think Shi says it best, so I'll let him conclude:

"America's love affair with the car has matured into a marriage - and an addiction. We refuse to consider other transportation options. As a popular bumper sticker resolutely declares, 'You'll Get Me Out of My Car When You Pry My Cold, Dead Foot from the Accelerator.'"