The online reaction quickly curdled into something between open contempt and frothing rage. The comments turned vicious — dehumanizing, childish and dripping in casual bloodlust.
“They get what they get if they want to act like a bunch of idiots who think they’re above the law.”
“I can’t stand them. They act so entitled.”
“Well, die then.”
This wasn’t the usual liberal-conservative knee-jerk showdown. President Trump’s name was hardly mentioned, and the vitriol had nothing to do with Iran or Israel or any of the usual religious or racial canards.
The target of this internet fury: cyclists.
In this case, a group of them, out for a Saturday morning ride in Deland, about 30 miles north of Orlando. By any reasonable definition, the bicyclists were the victims here. But in the bizarre ecosystem of anti-cyclist hysteria, innocence often doesn’t matter. The verdict arrives before the facts do.
About a dozen riders were pedaling east on a two-lane road when a pickup truck approached from the other direction. The driver crossed the centerline into the oncoming lane and plowed into the group. A security camera captured the impact. Several cyclists were hospitalized, including three in serious condition.
The 30-year-old driver, who stayed at the scene, was later cited for failing to maintain his lane. The Florida Highway Patrol report listed his condition as “asleep or fatigued” and also as “inattentive.”
A possibly sleeping driver drifted into the opposite lane and slammed into a group of cyclists out for a weekend ride. In most cases, that would register as a straightforward case of driver negligence. Not online. Road cyclists are often treated as guilty until proven innocent, especially if they ride in groups wearing spandex.
Road cyclists know that they aren’t popular with some drivers. The vitriol is not new. But it feels more intense now — and the usual suspects aren’t hard to identify: amplifying effects of social media, polarization flowing into everyday grievances, or just more people crammed onto poorly designed roads. Pick your culprit. All three likely contribute.
Many drivers see road cyclists as obstacles masquerading as people. They resent being slowed down. They complain that cyclists don’t “pay for the roads,” as if people on bikes are somehow exempt from taxes. Even the clothing they wear seems to be an emotional trigger.
Some of the complaints are nonsensical, but the “othering” of road cyclists is real. A 2019 Australian study found that more than 3 in 10 people thought of cyclists as “less than human.”
Less than human.
For riding a bicycle.
The same research found that drivers who dehumanize cyclists were more likely to self-report aggression toward them, including throwing something, blocking their path or driving into them. That makes perfect sense. Thinking of a group of people as less than human loosens the restraints that curb our worst instincts.
Road cyclists can be maddening. You’re late, the road narrows, and there’s a line of riders in tight shorts doing 18 mph with nowhere to pass. Some cyclists make it worse by rolling through stop signs or ignoring traffic etiquette. Some drivers do the same, at far greater scale. But the question shouldn’t be whether cyclists are annoying. The question is whether the annoyance justified the animus that follows.
No matter how maddening cyclists are, or how many laws they break, the danger they pose to other road users is minimal. Drivers kill more than four people every hour in the United States, according to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration. Recreational cyclists kill about that many in a year. Think about it: When was the last time you heard of a cyclist causing a crash that killed a driver?
It’s been said that drivers fret about cyclists getting away with something; cyclists worry that drivers will kill them.
One is an annoyance. The other is an existential threat.
Most drivers don’t mind cyclists. They simply want predictable behavior from everyone on the road. Traffic laws exist largely to help strangers anticipate one another’s behavior and avoid catastrophe. Their attitude is “we’re in this together.”
That’s natural. So too is that flash of irritation when encountering cyclists. The impulse is human, but how we handle it is a choice.
The riders in Deland weren’t hurting anyone; they weren’t recklessly putting anyone in danger. A drowsy driver crossed the centerline and sent several of them to the hospital.
Online, strangers decided the cyclists had it coming. That’s the choice we’re talking about.
