Seeing the Light

I don’t like when fellow bike riders approaching me on the Burke-Gilman trail at night cover their headlamps as we pass by each other. I realize that they do this out of courtesy, but it annoys me for several reasons.

First, because my own lamp is positioned down on my fork out of easy arm’s reach, I’m unable to reciprocate, so I end up feeling like a cantankerous jerk—(which I may be anyway, but that’s beside the point.)

Second, it bugs me because lamp-covering seems paternalistic; the message I take is that those riders think I’m too dumb to look away from their lights; I have to be protected from blinding myself by staring straight into the glow emanating from their handlebars.

A couple years ago, some guy called me a “cocksucker” as I passed him without covering my lamp. At least I think that’s why he did—which is another reason I’m annoyed by light shielders. One of the satisfactions of bicycle commuting is that I get to feel—rightly or not—that I have the moral high ground. But if I’m failing in my obligations to others when I don’t cover my lamp, then I’m knocked off my high horse—metal horse, that is.

Still, according to the Golden Rule, I should treat others as I want to be treated. So, since I would prefer that others don’t shield their lamps, we can conclude that I’m doing the right thing by not shielding mine. (Here, though, I may be committing the masochist’s fallacy; just because I want people to cause me pain, doesn’t mean it’s okay for me to cause them pain, does it?)

If it’s a matter of safety, I would argue that it’s probably safer to not cover your lamp; approaching riders can see you better, you don’t lose your grip on the bars moving your hands around, and nobody’s going to turn around and punch you for calling them a cocksucker.