Artful scofflaw

Here’s a scary thought: In several similar studies, most people considered themselves to be above-average drivers.

If we can expand this to include cyclists and pedestrians (I think we can), it’s easy to see the folly here. Just a few minutes on Montreal’s streets is enough to prove that most of us are not above average.

This is a little human quirk psychologists call illusory superiority. Most of us tend to overestimate our qualities, from intelligence to work performance.

But not me. I actually am an above-average cyclist. And that’s why I feel confident breaking the rules. Not because I’m special, but because I do it right.

I go the wrong way on one-way streets, but only when no cars are coming. If one comes, I duck into the first space to let it pass.

I bike on sidewalks, but only when there are no pedestrians, or if there is plenty of space.

I weave between cars in a traffic jam, but only if it absolutely does not interfere with any cars.

I run red lights. You can probably guess in what situations.

I do this because I honed my cycling chops in some of the most challenging places of the world: the every-man-for-himself chaos of Rio de Janeiro, the unforgiving scooter swarms of Phnom Penh and Ho Chi Minh City. This made me an agile and alert cyclist who anticipates potential dangers from blocks away. And it made me see the world as essentially chaotic where that order is but an illusion.

But I will never tell you to get out of my way. I will wait for you to go first, and wish you a lovely day.