Unwritten Understandings

Just a brief comment to finish the week, on social contracts encountered behind the wheel.

One of those small, highway-side towns, somewhere between Clinton and Prince George. Just a couple weeks ago, but I cannot recall exactly where. The signs change from 90 to 80, then to 60. Slow down, there may be pedestrians ahead. Keep it at 50 in case you see any kids walking on the shoulder. Stay alert.

It is a two-lane road entering the town. Leading a long line of vehicles from the oncoming direction, a giant white eighteen-wheeler. A little bit of cloud cover, but still plenty of daylight around to not require any headlights. Yet this truck driver has their lights on, and blinks them, twice, as they pass me. Alright, cop ahead.

I know flashing lights can mean a lot of things. In rural Canada, at least where I drive, it usually means watch for animals or cops. But in the past seven years of traversing BC’s vast paved network, this caution has only been shared with me when there are police around. It seems like most drivers who are members of the headlight warning brigade almost exclusively use it to warn of speed traps. I am not sure why this level of solidarity is easier stuck to than others, but I guess it is not too difficult to acknowledge the annoyance or hate towards law enforcement. Out on the road, most divisions ebb away and the ‘us vs. them’ line is drawn between those wanting to make quick time of their long journey and those who seek to slow them down. The latter to prop up their usefulness or to manage public safety – or to do one under the guise of the other – that is where the debates lie.

Sure enough, just past the gas station, there they are. Three white RCMP SUVs with those distinctive lights, colors, and reinforced front bumpers. No clue if they are stopped for a coffee or if any of them have their radar guns out. But I pass them, going the limit, thinking about another data point in this long-running social convention.

I am not sure when I first learned about this pact. I can understand the collective distaste of police. I have seen plenty across the world to know it is one of the many things that connects those who spend their time on the streets under the – intermittent or constant – watchful gaze of the thin blue line. I have had a few unpleasant encounters with cops myself; unavoidable if you are to make a habit of attending protests or working in areas with a heavy police presence.

I do not mind the warnings. What I would appreciate more is people driving at sane speeds on the highways. Or those flashes instead signaling more welcome sights – a moose, perhaps, or a family of bears. Never has the oncoming traffic notified me of a ram or collection of buffalo on offer. Then again, there are some things that you either stop for, or they stop you.