Looking allows us to make quick decisions about where and when it is safe to move amidst the flow of traffic. However, we also make ‘looks’ that are for more that just seeing. Our looks and eye contact have a humanising effect on our interactions in traffic. If you don’t believe me, try it for yourself! Just this morning as I was riding to work and I needed to move into the centre of the lane to negotiate a narrow pinch point ahead of me. I could hear that a car was close behind so I turned my head back and looked straight at the driver. As soon as we made eye contact, he slowed down to allow me to merge into the centre of the lane. It’s just like having magic powers.
So why do our eyes make such a difference? Well, we rarely hear of pedestrian rage. If we inadvertently bump into each other in the office, we generally apologise to defuse the situation as was touched on in the recent VicRoads Road User or Abuser campaign. Alternatively, in situations where we are less recognisable (e.g. through tinted windows, wearing dark sunglasses, or on anonymous online forums), we can sometimes do and say things that we wouldn’t do if we were to meet the same people face-to-face. Psychologists call this ‘the transformative power of anonymity’. However, by making meaningful looks and seeking eye contact, we can reduce this anonymity and be more skilled in communicating with traffic. Our eyes may not have magic powers like the X-Men, but they are powerful tools for safe and effective cycling.





So why is it still useful to have a bell on a road bike? Well, other than being a legal requirement, it’s a friendly way to say hello to people and it’s a useful device for communicating with pedestrians. It enables me to influence the way pedestrians behave. The last time I was riding down Pitt Street in the City, a 30 something lady was about to step off the footpath and cross the road at an angle with her back to me. There were no cars around and she hadn’t seen me. I rang my bell and instead of frightening her I got a slightly self-deprecating smile. She knew I’d caught her mistake and stopped just in time. Riding through Moore Park on the way to Centennial there are always people out walking in the early morning- often not keeping to the left of the pathway. I start ringing 50m away until I see them look. They invariably move over and let me through. I say ‘thanks’ and that way no-one can accuse me of being a ‘lycra lout’. True, there are some zombies with headphones blaring that can’t be spared a little fright despite me trying to maintain a good margin and slowing down when passing. However, most people hear the bell and it’s proved too useful for me to take off. My bell is the size of a 20c coin. It’s black just like my handlebars and it takes only seconds to remove when I race on weekends.
Held in Adelaide, the 
