Pedal Power: a Photo Essay

I got the idea for this photo essay while I was out snapping pictures to illustrate some of the ideas in Nagraj Adve's guest lecture, which we ran Tuesday. (I should warn you, dear reader, I am not a photographer or an artist of any kind. So a photo essay by me is really just some pictures which are bound to be full of the artistic equivalent of spelling errors and bad handwriting. But Diwali is rapidly approaching, and I somehow thought this would be easier than an old fashioned word essay.) As you may recall, Adve argues that India's low per capita carbon emissions mask an ugly reality: extremely poor people do not emit much carbon, "no matter how hard they might try." (Rest assured, our super-rich are doing their level best to compensate by consuming at or above western levels.)


Delhi presents many opportunities for photos that make Adve's point: men pedaling cycle rickshaws in the same frame as luxury vehicles; families sleeping on the footpaths outside high-end malls, etc.


For this essay, I decided to focus on human-powered cycle machines; in other words, cycles, cycle rickshaws, anything that runs when people turn pedals. Cycles are one of the most efficient machines around, and they are used all over the world, in rich countries and poor: cycle commuters, cycle messengers, police on cycles. In India, if we look, we will see human-powered cycle machines everywhere doing all sorts of things.

Unfortunately, in Delhi, few groups of people get less respect than cyclists. That is probably because in the minds of many who drive in this city, pedals=poverty. Ride a cycle on a main road, in rush hour traffic, anywhere in the city, and you will immediately understand this fact. Of course it goes without saying that operators of human-powered cycle machines are poorly paid. Given this reality, these photos can and should be read as an indictment of a system that is not working as it should work.

But what of the work itself? The more I looked, the more I began to see how wonderful these machines are; how extraordinary their operators are. The fact that we move so many people and goods with cycle technology is one of the reasons we have such low emissions--in spite of our mega-malls and super-sized vehicles. So these photos can also be read as a celebration of these green machines and the workers who operate them.

Of course it would be wrong to idealize this work: it is often brutal; and why should the excess of the rich be compensated by the sweat of the poor? Certainly, much of this work should be mechanized. To that end, efforts to build motor-assisted, solar-powered rickshaws make a good deal of sense, though many of these efforts are still at the symbolic stage.

In the meantime, to ignore the contribution made by these people and the machines they ride to our economy and environment is likewise wrong. As I worked with these photos, I had to wonder: in a just, sustainable world, what role would human-powered machines play? What would need to happen to make cycles and cycle machines safe for workers, commuters, and those who just want a healthy way to relax?

These are some of the questions I've been thinking of. You may have answers--or more questions.

As I put this post together, I found myself humming the refrain from this song. Why not take a minute to listen to it--or try Green Day's version, which is part of the campaign against violence in Darfur. (If you want a tamer song to hum, you can try this, but I wouldn't recommend it.) Whatever you do, have a wonderful, safe Diwali-- and go easy on the atom bombs!


PS. I just found out that October 15 is Blog Action Day. I'm supposed to write a post about climate change today. I think this post counts. If you want to take part in blog action day, you can go here.