La città che ha cacciato le auto (The city that removed its cars)
QCER B2363 parole
In 1999 the new mayor of Pontevedra, a city of some eighty thousand people in the north-west of Spain, did something that was widely described at the time as electoral suicide: he took the cars out of the old town. Not gradually, and not as an experiment. Parking spaces on the surface were removed, through traffic was sent around the centre, and streets that had been used as car parks for thirty years were given back to whoever wanted to stand in them.
The reaction was what you would expect. Shopkeepers predicted ruin. Drivers complained that the city had been made unusable for anyone who worked outside it. Newspapers published photographs of empty streets and asked who was supposed to shop there.
What happened next is the part that is usually told badly, in both directions. The centre did not die: pedestrian traffic rose and most of the shops that had predicted ruin are still open. But the city did not become a paradise either. Some businesses that depended on people parking at the door did close. Families with a car still own a car; they park it and walk the last five minutes. The city built car parks on the edge of the centre, which is not the same thing as being car-free, whatever the headlines say.
Two numbers are quoted more than any others. The city says that traffic in the centre fell by around two thirds, and that for years there has not been a single death in a traffic accident inside the urban area. The second figure is the one that travels around the world, and it should be treated with a little care: comparing raw death counts between cities with very different populations and traffic patterns can be misleading.
Still, the interesting lesson is not about numbers. Pontevedra did not wait for everyone to agree. It is often said that this kind of change has to be gradual, so that people get used to it; what happened there suggests the opposite, that a change made all at once is judged on how it works, while a change made slowly is judged every single day on how it feels.
Parole che forse non conosci
- mayorsindaco
- through traffictraffico di passaggio
- shopkeepernegoziante
- to predict ruinprevedere la rovina
- pedestrian traffictraffico pedonale
- headlinetitolo di giornale
- figurecifra, dato
- gradualgraduale
Domande
Si risponde con il testo davanti. Non è memoria: è capire.
What did the mayor of Pontevedra do in 1999?
He removed cars from the old town all at once — E il testo insiste sul come: NOT gradually, and NOT as an experiment. È quel dettaglio a reggere il finale.
According to the text, all the shops that predicted ruin closed.
False — Falso: la maggior parte sono ancora aperte. Ma il testo non dice nemmeno che non ne abbia chiusa nessuna: hanno chiuso quelle che vivevano del parcheggio davanti alla porta.
How should a reader handle the two numerical claims?
Attribute them to the city and examine the limits of comparison. — Il testo attribuisce i dati alla città e avverte sui confronti dei conteggi grezzi; non attesta una verifica propria.
Why does the writer say the figure about traffic deaths should be treated with care?
Cities’ raw totals are not directly comparable — Non mette in dubbio il dato: avverte che confrontare numeri assoluti tra città con dimensioni e traffico diversi può trarre in inganno.
The text says Pontevedra is a city without cars.
False — Falso, e lo smentisce di proposito: le famiglie hanno ancora l'auto, la parcheggiano e fanno a piedi gli ultimi cinque minuti. Ci sono parcheggi al bordo, che NON è la stessa cosa che essere senza auto, «checché ne dicano i titoli».
What is the writer's final argument about how change should be made?
Abrupt change is judged by results, slow change by feelings — L'ultimo paragrafo nomina l'idea comune —che il cambiamento debba essere graduale— per contraddirla: quello fatto in una volta si giudica da come funziona; quello lento, ogni giorno da come ci si sente.