Most of the major streets in the older parts of Toronto look something like this:

That is, the right-of-way width is 20 meters. The built form lining the street is retrograde. There are 4 lanes for driving cars (sometimes streetcars run in the two inner-most lanes). And 50% of the entire road is allocated to on-street parking. Now to be fair, on-street parking is usually prohibited during "rush hour." So no stopping and parking during periods like 7-9am and 4-6pm.

But I think this approach to traffic management has become far less relevant today. It made more sense when everyone was driving to an office for 9am and then leaving for the suburbs at 5pm. But today, people want to work from home so they can go to the gym at 11am, go grocery shopping at 1pm, and then get a perm at 3pm.

What I find curious about these decisions is that bike lanes seem to get most of the blame for traffic congestion. We say things like, "nobody really bikes in Toronto except for the 2 weeks of the year when it's nice. So we shouldn't allocate valuable road space to them!" But very rarely do people seem to direct their frustrations toward the parked cars that sit on our roads for, what, ~83% of every day?

One approach allows people to go places and the other is dedicated to storage and immobility. This also says nothing about the relative benefits of people biking: it's objectively a more efficient way to move people, it can improve overall traffic flows by taking people out of cars, and it improves health outcomes (saving taxpayers money).

This is not to say that bike lanes don't also impact vehicle road capacity. But it's a question of what's most optimal for moving the greatest number of people. And I would bet you that on-street parking is far more disruptive to overall traffic flows than bike lanes. Parked cars, it turns out, aren't very good at moving people across a city.

Back when Elon Musk was running Tesla, he was known for saying that LiDAR technology (basically laser beams that measure distances) was not needed to create full self-driving cars. And that's why their cars instead use a bunch of cameras to monitor the outside world.

Now, I'm not an engineer, but this never made much sense to me. Cameras can only see so far and they certainly can't see at night. So wouldn't laser sensing technology that can see 250-500 meters out — including at night — be greatly preferable when it comes to human safety, even if it costs more?

I'm reminded of what I said to my eye doctor before getting laser eye surgery many years ago: "This is not a transaction where I'm looking to be price sensitive. Get me the absolute best." And that's exactly how I feel when it comes to self-driving cars. I don't care if cameras are pretty good most of the time; I would prefer to have the best.

So which is the best? Damned if I know, but here's an interesting and also hilarious video by YouTuber and engineer Mark Rober where he compares the two technologies: cameras (i.e. Tesla) vs. LiDAR. I won't spoil it for all of you, but his last test is the "Wile E. Coyote test" and it's awesome.

At the time of writing this post, the video already has more than 11 million views and it seems to have been incredibly helpful to Luminar's stock price:

Last week in Japan was the first time I had ever driven a car on the left side of road. I spent a summer working in Dublin many years ago but I never once drove while I was there.

To be honest, I thought it was going to be more awkward than it was. But other than accidentally turning on the wipers a few times (they were on the opposite side to where turn signals typically live), it came to me pretty quickly.

I also noticed that left-hand traffic seems to impact the flow of many other things in Japan. On sidewalks, for example, people walk on the left. And on escalators, everyone stands on the left (and walks on the right), whereas the opposite tends to be true in Toronto.

Japan is also an orderly and rule-abiding place and so these conventions are widely followed. On more than a few occasions, I realized I was swimming upstream and then quickly switched sides.

What’s interesting is how this directional convention permeates so many aspects of everyday life. Which begs the question: where and when did it start? Do the "rules of the road" always influence everything else?

The answer seems to be that nobody really knows. There are many unproven theories. Some suggest that it has to do with how horses were ridden and walked, and that ~90% of people are right-handed.

But I couldn’t find anything definitive. What we do seem to know, at least anecdotally, is that once a side is chosen, it broadly impacts how people generally move around. Pay attention the next time you're on a busy sidewalk.