Public Transit and the Negotiation That No One Wants to Have
Robin Archer·
The morning rush on public transit is a negotiation between bodies that mostly goes unspoken. You're close to strangers. You're closer than you'd choose. You're close to strangers in ways that in any other context would require some mutual agreement. Here, the agreement is implied by the fact that you both bought tickets.
There are parts of this that are just the nature of the situation. A crowded train car contains bodies at angles and pressures that nobody preferred. That's the physics of the commute. What's not simply the physics is the person whose elbow is in your ribs who could adjust and hasn't. Or the person pressed against you on a seat with more than enough room to not be pressed against you. Or the person whose body language is the problem independent of where they're standing.
What's unavoidable
The brushing contact in a crowd, the press of bodies at peak hours, the situation where there is genuinely not enough room for anyone to be comfortable: these are the baseline of crowded transit, and they're not the subject here.
What's avoidable is the contact that someone is choosing. The person who sits next to you on an empty bench and puts their thigh against yours when there's a foot of room on their other side. The person who stands closer than the available space requires. The person who doesn't adjust when the car empties and suddenly there's room.
This is the version where something is being chosen. Maybe unconsciously. Maybe not. Either way, it can be addressed.
The physics adjustment
The first response is usually physical: shift your weight away, reclaim the six inches that are yours, orient yourself toward the aisle. Most people, even the ones who encroached unconsciously, will take the signal and not fill the new space.
The ones who fill it: that's where you go to words. Simple, quiet, stated in a tone that implies you expect to be heard: "Could you move over a bit?" You don't need to explain. The request is its own explanation.
I have said this on commuter trains more times than I can count. The response is almost always wordless compliance. Occasionally a look. Very rarely an argument. The argument, when it happens, is a window into how the person has been thinking about the situation.
The verbal request
"Could you move over" is the version that tends to land with the least friction. It's practical rather than accusatory. You're asking for a physical adjustment, not making a statement about the person.
If you're dealing with the thigh-to-thigh version on a bench with room to spare: "Could you scoot over a bit" while already angling yourself away. The movement and the request together tend to produce the adjustment without the conversation expanding into something larger.
If nothing changes after you've asked: "I asked you to move over" is a second sentence that makes clear the first one was heard and ignored. This lands differently than the first. It should. Ignoring a clear request in a context like this is not nothing.
What you're not signing up for
Using public transit is not consent to being pressed against, crowded in a way that goes beyond what the density of the space requires, or touched by strangers in any way that falls outside the unavoidable contact of a genuinely crowded space.
These are not the same thing. Unavoidable contact in a genuinely packed train is one thing. Avoidable contact by someone who has decided not to avoid it is another.
The distinction is real and you're allowed to name it.
