Massachusetts recorded 76 pedestrian traffic deaths last year, and the establishment's cure is to put your commute on a diet — shrinking lanes, installing cameras, and making driving deliberately miserable.
WalkMassachusetts and its allies are pushing "road diets," speed cameras, and traffic-calming measures under the banner of pedestrian safety. The Boston Herald editorial board dutifully amplified the call, citing the organization's report that one in five traffic deaths in the Commonwealth involved someone on foot. Brendan Kearney, executive director of WalkMassachusetts, pointed to speed as the factor that "continues to show up again and again," insisting streets are "designed in ways that allow people to drive too fast."
But dig into the numbers the Herald published and the narrative wobbles. More than 71 percent of pedestrian fatal crashes occurred on roads with speed limits of 25 to 35 mph — not highways, not drag strips, but already-slow city streets. Nearly 69 percent happened in the dark. The problem isn't speed demons; it's visibility, lighting, and infrastructure that serves everyone badly.
Who bears the cost? The report itself admits that "Environmental Justice communities — often lower income neighborhoods" are disproportionately impacted, and more than half of fatal pedestrian accidents hit Gateway Cities. These are precisely the Americans priced out of walkable urban cores, the people who need cars to reach jobs, grocery stores, and doctors. The solution on offer — House bill 3754, allowing municipalities to deploy speed and red-light cameras — won't fix dark streets or improve crosswalk lighting. It will generate revenue and penalize drivers who have no alternative.
Somerville gets held up as the model: 50 percent decline in serious-injury crashes, zero traffic fatalities for three straight years. Somerville is also one of the densest, wealthiest municipalities in the state — a place where walking is already viable. Road diets work where cars are optional. They punish where cars are necessary.
The class of politician who champions these initiatives tells you everything. Look at Anchorage, where Assembly member George Martinez was caught using $1,255 in campaign funds for a round-trip flight to Fort Lauderdale, plus another $1,000 in campaign money for carbon offsets — all while racking up personal airline status points. Martinez claimed the trip was a solo "strategic planning retreat" and that the carbon offset was "consistent with his green travel campaign pledge." The Alaska Public Offices Commission called the violations "particularly egregious," fined him the maximum $3,050, and described his testimony as "formulaic and evasive." This is the green governance class: lecturing you about your commute while burning jet fuel for personal mileage status on the public dime.
Pedestrian safety matters. The 76 dead in Massachusetts last year matter. But when the proposed solutions always seem to shrink your freedom, expand government surveillance, and leave working Americans with fewer options, the question isn't whether the problem is real — it's who designed the answer, and who it really serves.
