Every time you get into a car, there is a non-zero chance that you might get injured, or worse, die. The probability of this happening depends largely on where you're driving and, of course, how much you drive. However, there are a few different ways to measure this statistical risk. A recent Bloomberg article by David Zipper highlights one ongoing debate.

The three most common methods are:

• Road deaths per capita

• Road deaths per registered vehicle

• Road deaths per distance traveled

In my opinion, options 1 and 3 seem the most relevant. Option 1 is useful because it measures a citizen's overall risk and allows driving risk to be easily compared to other causes of death (which tend to be measured on a per capita basis). The limitation is that it is harder to compare a country where everybody drives to a country where few people drive.

That's where option 3 comes in. In theory, it provides the best indicator of road risk by accounting for distance traveled, which is the primary argument for why it's commonly used in the US where the car is king. But it does "dilute" the fatality count the more people drive, and it hides overall car dependency. In his article, Zipper likens this approach to measuring cancer deaths per cigarette smoked.

In any event, here is how both methods appear in the International Transport Forum's 2025 Annual Road Safety Report (which is cited in the article):

On a per vehicle-kilometre basis, the data appears much more gradual. But on a per capita basis, the countries with the highest road fatalities appear much more as outliers. Here, you can more easily see that, broadly speaking, a person in Colombia is nearly ten times more likely to die in a road-related incident than a person in Norway (pretty much the gold standard when it comes to road safety).

Perhaps the answer is to just look at both figures to make sure you're not lying to yourself.

Cover photo by Tom Barrett on Unsplash

Charts from Road Safety Annual Report 2025

We've been talking a lot about autonomous vehicles, and in particular Waymo, on this blog. In my opinion, the safety records — which Waymo has published after driving more than 100 million driverless miles — already suggest that none of us should be driving cars anymore. Some or many of you will disagree with this statement, but there's a reason why car crashes are the number two cause of death for children and young adults in the US.

So not only is this a tech breakthrough and a profound city-building shift, but it's also a public health breakthrough. Here's a recent opinion piece published in the New York Times by Dr. Jonathan Slotkin, the vice chair of neurosurgery at the Geisinger Health System in Pennsylvania. I found this statement particularly interesting:

In medical research, there’s a practice of ending a study early when the results are too striking to ignore. We stop when there is unexpected harm. We also stop for overwhelming benefit, when a treatment is working so well that it would be unethical to continue giving anyone a placebo. When an intervention works this clearly, you change what you do.

Now the imperative:

There’s a public health imperative to quickly expand the adoption of autonomous vehicles. More than 39,000 Americans died in motor vehicle crashes last year, more than homicide, plane crashes and natural disasters combined. Crashes are the No. 2 cause of death for children and young adults. But death is only part of the story. These crashes are also the leading cause of spinal cord injury. We surgeons see the aftermath of the 10,000 crash victims who come to emergency rooms every day. The combined economic and quality-of-life toll exceeds $1 trillion annually, more than the entire U.S. military or Medicare budget.

Dr. Slotkin goes on to talk about some of the cities that are pushing back against AV adoption, or simply erecting barriers, namely Washington, D.C. and Boston. That's too bad. This is a decision that can be easily guided by data: Which is the safest option for the greatest number of people? Just do that. Dr. Slotkin gets it right: "policymakers need to stop fighting this transformation and start planning for it."

There are parts of Toronto that are pedestrian only. There's the Distillery District, some small laneways in Yorkville, the Toronto Islands (though this is a bit of a unique situation), and various other pockets around the city.

There are also streets that we temporarily open up to only pedestrians, such as Market Street and King Street, and areas, such as Kensington Market, that we have been rigorously considering pedestrianizing for as long as I can remember.

What is clear is that pedestrian-only streets are controversial. Motorists fear that it will make driving in the city even more inconvenient. And businesses fear that it will limit their customer base.

While it is true that not all streets can and should be pedestrianized, there are countless examples of streets and areas that appear to be thriving because of it.

Take, for example, Montréal.

Since 2021, the city has been pedestrianizing a stretch of 30 blocks along Mont-Royal Avenue during the summer months. And according to Mayor Valérie Plante, the commercial vacancy rate for the street has dropped from 14.5% in 2018 to 5.6% in 2023:

Maybe you don't want to infer causality here, but at the very least, it seems to suggest that the street isn't dying and bereft of human activity. This year, pedestrianization is also planned to be extended further into the fall.

This won't necessarily be the outcome for all streets, but I do agree with this recent Globe and Mail article that, oftentimes, the reasons for not pedestrianizing are "a question of philosophy, not geography." Because there's lots of research and data to support doing this.

If any of you are business owners along Mont-Royal, I'd love to hear about your experiences and how you think, for better or for worse, it has changed the area. Leave a comment below or drop me a line.