May 22, 2007
Things my new commute has taught me #1: not all seats are equal
For years (five at least) I had a relatively straightforward (mostly) 20 minute bus hop from home (in Mortlake, SW14) to work (in Olympia, W14).
Five minutes walk to the bus stop. A couple of minutes of waiting, then 20 minutes on a shuttle bus through Barnes, up Castlenau (thank heavens for the bus lane - I’ve never figured out why all those single car drivers (that’s solo, not unattached, I assume) bothered sitting in that interminable traffic jam every morning when the bus lane alongside proved the effectiveness of public transport, at least for that stretch), over Hammersmith Bridge and then 10 minutes walk from the bus depot and I was at my desk. And on the way home, the same in reverse (except without the bus lane, dangnabit) or in good weather a 40 minute saunter down the towpath.
Lovely.
Before we moved to SW14, my commute was an 8 minute walk. Before that, it was an overland train (the North London Line AKA the Crack Line) from Wet Hamster round to Olympia via Willesden Arsehole Junction. Before that, half an hour on a bus from Maida Vale to Chelsea.
In other words, pretty cushy and relatively stressless, and all above ground.
Until, that is, I started my new job last month. Nowadays, I have the same short and joyful bus ride, topped off by a minimum of forty minutes on the tube, and then another ten minute walk.
Let me tell you, it’s been an eye-opener, and after a month, I’ve come to some conclusions. None particularly earth-shattering, and all old news to you seasoned commuters, I’ll warrant, but quite revelatory to me. I’ve been jotting things down on my extra 2 hours travel a day, and will be sharing them here as time permits. Bet you can’t wait, can you?
Anyway, without further ado:
1. There’s a definite hierarchy to tube seats.
The thing about buses is that they’re usually relatively short hops. You know that it’ll be over pretty soon, which means that standing up for a short while isn’t a great hardship. Bus passengers take sitting down for granted.
Not so on the underground. On the tube, you’re in it for the long-haul. Seats are hard-won and bitterly defended which means selective eyesight when old/pregnant people get on, and a competitive pounce when a spot becomes vacant. Which brings me to the realisation that not all spaces are equal.
This is something which isn’t immediately apparent to the casual tube user, but which quickly reveals itself to the hardened commuter. Everyone knows the prime seats and standing spots, and people jostle for supremacy when the doors open, especially at the depot, when the train is empty.
In the reference diagram below, the preferred pecking order of one end of a Hammersmith & City line carriage is dissected:
Position 1 is supreme, because you have only one neighbour, and (usually) a wider seat, with windows behind and beside you, plus a door which might give some hope of a breeze.
Position 2 has only one neighbour, and the breeze factor, though usually someone’s arse squished up against the glass partition beside you.
Position 3 is like position 2, in that the occupants have a maximum of one neighbour, but being in the middle of the carriage offers less hope of fresh air and more crowds.
Position 4, meanwhile is the worst of the seated positions, having two immediate neighbours and thus no elbow room.
Of the standing positions, position 5 is the prime spot, in front of the emergency exit door, which provides both fresh air and leaning support, along with putting the occupant in a good tactical spot to steal an available (1) or (2) seat, should one become available.
Weirdly, the next best standing areas are actually position 6 spots, because they provide somewhere to lean and the possibility (on all but the busiest rush-hour services) to make a dash for a high number of seats - more than positions 7 and 8, at least.
Meanwhile, position 9 is utterly tactical - by hanging onto the centre pole, the user suffers some mild discomfort, but usually has more space to read and (crucially) is in the best manoeuvring position when one of the (3) or (4) seats becomes available. People occupying position 9 really tick off people who’ve been loitering in positions (6) or (7), because a seat can be stolen out from under their very noses.
Finally, the blocking move, position 10 can work out well, because it effectively covers the exit seats in position (3), which means getting a seat is a good possibility.
The worst possible place to stand is position 11, being neither close enough to any seat to have a hope in hell of ever sitting down and yet also far removed from anything to lean on or hold onto. Poor, poor 11s. Life’s never fair.
What’s weird is that every day people automatically (possibly subconsciously, possibly consciously) go through the same dance on the H&C line at Hammersmith. The seats get filled up in exactly this order, every single day, and that’s what makes my anthropology background kick in.
Hmmmm, I always seem to be a position 11 person when I’m on the tube. I think that says a lot about my life.
I actually quite like travelling on the tube, but I guess that’s because I only ever do it as a tourist, rather than a commuter.
Why is position 8 worse than 7? Or I suppose 7 worse than 6 if it is about seat accessability?
[...] Meg Pickard of Meish has recently changed jobs and is now taking a long journey on the Tube each day. She wrote an excellent post about the hierarchy of seats on the Tube. Interesting reading. Wonder if the schematics apply on Warsaw’s metro… Archived in Misc. [...]
@Ignorminious: 8 is worse than 7 because you have no chance of nabbing seats 1 & 2 because standee 5 is in prime position. 7 is worse than 6 because 6 has potential access and nabbing rights to the 3&4 seats on either side of them, whereas 7 can only hope to get the 1&2s, if 5 is sleeping.
I have a similar theory about district line carriages. Will do it later.
I would suggest that in the height of summer the heirachy changes subtly and the standing position infront of the open window at the end of the carriage becomes one of the more sort after spots as it’s a couple of degrees cooler. Also the seat values get adjusted when people sit down e.g. if soemeone is sitting in a 3 or 4 seat then I often prefer to stand rather than sit next to them.
Also, on different tube lines the standing positions have diffeent values, H&C trains are quite square in cross section but on things like the central line the edges of the carriages are no go areas for us tall people.
Ah, it all makes sense now. Thank you Meg, I shall remember this most excellent post the next time I take the tube. Will let you know if I’m ever lucky enough to get a 1 ;)
It also depends on what you expect the future pattern of tube usage to be. I get on at Barbican travelling west and know that if all the seats are taken (as is usual) that two stops later at King’s Cross, some seats will always become free.
Knowing that I won’t have to stand for long, I’d go for 7 and 8 or the 6 between the two sets of seats — NOT the 6 at the end of the carriage which only leaves me within reach of half as many seats.
Also, which of those areas I get on at depends on how many competitors there are already stationed there. I’d happily give up a possibility of getting seat 1 or 2 if I knew it was pretty certain I’d get a normal seat by standing at position 6.
Why is my head full of this!?
This is absolutely brilliant and oh-so spot on. Personally, my favourite position is 1 or 2, followed closely by 7 & 8.
So true. I’m a definite position 6 myself - blessed with a 10-minute commute on the central line so seats aren’t too important.
Otherwise I quite like those bits at the end of the carriages where you can perch on the soft bits - ideal for short hops and you can people-watch really easily too.
I get on at one end of the Picadilly line (Bounds Green) and have a long ride to Barons Court, so the tube is usually pretty empty at both ends of my journey.
Position 9 is my preference if there are no seats, and I will push past anyone blocking out in position 10 to get there. This gives me a seat but also I think it’s just logical. The standing area in the middle gets hellish if people don’t move down. And I’m tall, which on every tube other than the old district line ones means I can’t crush into positions 6, 7 & 8 without getting a cricked neck.
What’s more important to me is which end of the platform I wait at. I’m always waiting at the end carriage, partly because it gets me a seat but also because I learnt that this end gets evacuated first in an emergency (learnt when it kicked off a couple of years ago).
And please people - no selective eyesight when pregnant women/old people are getting on. I admit I’m more sensitised as my wife is currently pregnant, but it amazes me I can be sitting in position 4 and have to call out to a pregnant women and offer her my seat beacuse the smugs in position 3 have ipod deafness and suduko blindness.
What about the front carriage of the train? i.e. when there’s a locked driver’s door rather than window to provide ventilation?
Also, has anyone every done a study of where its best to get on at each station - i.e. if the front or the rear of the platform is the most crowded?
Excellent post.
The tube trains with little perch spots, such as on the Jubilee and Central lines, change the whole standing and lay out issues quite a bit. Hardened commuters cram themselves into them as they know it’s possible to read a book or a folded newspaper at even the busiest times, where as tourists on the same busy train often ignore them.
Ha ha. I thought it was only me that saw the extra-wide value of position 1. However, I’d question the preferabilty of 2 to 3, on the basis that if someone’s in 1, the tendency will be to go to the empty centre seats, even though, once these fill up, you would have been slightly better off in 2.
The other thing to consider with the H&C line @ Hammersmith (and other terminus trains) is the difference between carriages. Any train like this that sits in the station for ages will show a marked passenger bias towards the carriage nearest the platform entrance, as nerks rush on thinking the train is about to leave. In the case of Hammersmith, of course, this is the carriage at the back of the train. Just a couple of carriages further up and you’ll generally see a marked reduction in passengers. I enjoy the war of nerves that is seeing how far up the platform you can nonchalantly stroll before bottling it and getting on.
Positions 2 and 3 are probably “priority” seats, so if you do have a conscience about seating the pregnant or elderly you risk getting turfed out of them before someone in 1 or 4. If you have the pick of an empty carriage I’d tend to choose the seat next door to one of these.
Depending on the direction of travel an open window behind position 5 can be unpleasantly drafty and for the tall and hairy, there are much more important spots to avoid.
Ha so true and well-explained! Coincidentally I also live in Mortlake (I think that’s how my brother who is visiting found this link to send me). I get the train to waterloo though rather than the good old 209 bus!
I then get the Waterloo and City line which is a bit of an anachronism as the standing is preferred to the seats by many people as it’s only a 4 minute journey and all the City types are mad-keen to get to work, so want to be first off.
This doesn’t explain why 10, despite much encouragement from the tannoy and evil looks from 11 refuses point blank to move down to 9.
Heh, this reminds me of my own patterns in T-commuting. The red line cars look something like:
End | DOOR |AB|CDC|BA| DOOR |AB|CDC|BA| DOOR | END
standing people who can’t or won’t take seats
End | DOOR |AB|CDC|BA| DOOR |AB|CDC|BA| DOOR | END
If I’m going more than a couple of stops, I generally try to grab a “C” seat - the D seats are the least desirable, being furthest from the door *and* between two neighbors without even a dividing pole. A seats are prime, being right by the door and all, but you’re certain to get a neighbor almost straightaway in B, and once all the AB are full, you’re likely to get guilted into moving to C or D anyway while there’s still space, or into standing when someone who needs an AB and there aren’t any seats left. Most of the time, though, B seats actually go quicker than A, so that when that elderly/injured/otherwise laden-down person comes on, you don’t actually risk being booted out quite as quickly, though they’re still technically seats you’re supposed to vacate for those in need. C seats are just far enough down that you’re not likely to get ousted for “need” (judged not worth the fight for being that far from the door) nor be otherwise disturbed, at least until a D neighbor comes along.
If I’m only going a stop or two, I generally try to stand either by the door or right across from whichever side’s doors will actually open when we get to the station in question, depending on how crowded things are.
In either case, there are stations I know well enough to know where to stand in order to be in front of the optimal door for getting off at my destination - for example, when heading northbound to Porter Square, you want to be near the last door in the second car or the first door in the fourth car (those put you in front of the escalators; for the elevator, you need to be near the front of the fifth car.) Since it’s 199 steps up from that “outbound” platform to street level (or three escalators), if you’re short like me, you want to get ahead of that jostling herd as quickly as possible. ;)
So strange. In San Francisco, on the BART train system, the equivalent of position #1 is probably the least desirable seat. It feels a bit ghetto, scrunched up into the corner. People generally seem to shoot for the seats that give them easy door access when they reach their stop, so the equivalent of positions #3/#4 are the most desirable. Personally, I prefer to stand all the time, so position #6 is my prime choice: upright, with a partition to lean on.
@William
There is a little booklet which sets out for every destination and interchange on the tube where to get on in order to be opposite the exit when you get off. You could buy it from the London Transport museum in Covent Garden before it closed for refurbishment, doubtless in other places too.
As for getting on a train where it is less crowded, there is a simple rule which usually works - walk away from the point where you enter the platform unless you have good reason to expect the train to be notably less crowded at that point.
you’ve forgotten position 13, which is just outside the carriage on the platform still, because you couldn’t get in to the train because someone got on and created position 12 between 7&8 with a large rucksack.
Reminds me of toilet tactics. As for the tube… I always try and get a seat near the door.
I should think that the 10 spot near the 2 and 1 seat is more like a 5 and deserves its own identifier, as it puts the commuter in a good position to nab a 1 or 2 seat while not being quite as nice as 5. In the other 10s you can only get a 3 or 4 seat.
Wow, you’d have to be a supreme asshole to pretend not to notice a pregnant woman or the elderly. I understand that in some cities, such as Vienna, you would be berated by others if you didn’t give up the seat. So is it really the case that the Viennese are more civilized than Londoners?
@Brandon: I understand your reasoning, but I still maintain it’s a 10th place position, due to the fact that the person in that spot is indeed closer to the prime seats, but they only stand a chance of grabbing any of 4 possible seats (and they’ve got less of a chance with that person in the 5 spot hovering like a hawk), whereas the other 10 spots have hypothetical access to many more (8 in each block).
Simply put, although the quality of the seats is diminished, the quantity within nabbing-distance increases their probability of being seated. So, they’re both 10 rated.
I’m sure there’s a mathematical way to express this - something which illustrates that when n is the quality of the seat (1-4) and y is the # of seats directly available to a standee, then s(tandee) rating = y(n) or something. I’m no mathematician. Obviously. Anyone else like to have a shot?
Anyway, this raises the question: is it better to be seated in a 4 spot, or standing?
@Eric: You’re quite right: it would take a particularly low specimen of humanity to intentionally ignore people whose need for a seat is greater than the mass of commuters. And in general, people are pretty good on London Underground, for the record (though, London like any other big city seems to have hoardes of people suffering from ipod deafness and freesheet blindness on commuter services).
Of course, there’s the inevitable quandary of how old/rotund someone needs to look before they are offered a seat - and I’ve seen quite a number of grey-haired people politely, proudly, firmly declining a proffered seat, thankyewverymuch, preferring to stand.
It’s a fine line, is all I’m saying. You want to be respectful but not insulting.
[...] theory of the Underground. Actually, I didn’t, I was just aimlessly browsing. But anyway. Prime Seats on the Underground. Handy to [...]
Have you looked at who sits in the seats?
There is one express bus I take to work. I meet the same people and we have an unwritten seating assignments. We know exactly who made it or not just by the open seats. Even when better seats are available, the “regulars” sit in their usual seats. We all smile and nod in the morning without uttering a word.
If we see a regular in their non-regular seat, we know there’s a new person on the bus.
I would make #9 a #6 and bump spots 6, 7, and 8 down a position. The reason being that at 9 you are left alone for the most part at each stop whereas at 6,7, and 8 [along w/ 10 and 11] you are in the middle of the blender of people pushing and shoving to get on and off. If you’re on the tube for an extended period of time, spot #9 is far more pleasant.
Also, when you’re a regular rider of any train system you learn where on each platform to stand to wait for the train. You know which cars will be least crowded and you know which car will be closest to the exit at your destination station enabling you to minimize the amount of time you’re stuck in the crowd of people making their way to the exit. This is something that changes with each stop and train line and therefore can’t be answered by categorically saying “front,” “back,” etc.
As a 20 year H&C veteran, I prefer seat 3 over 1 and 2, and standing position 9 over 6, 7 or 8, unless there is no chance of getting a seat when I will go for spot 6.
I don’t choose my spot on the platform according to how busy the train will be when it comes in, but where the exit is when I get out.
[...] Where should you sit on the tube? I would imagine it’s a similar situation for all subways. I think 9 is better than 6, 7 and 8 though, because it’s usually less-crowded and always gets the seat. [...]
I do Green Park to Canary Wharf every day, and it is positively gladiatorial. I suspect some sort of timelapse footage of a carriage would provide a interesting insight into the tactical ballet that is played out every day.
And of course I’m not sharing my own tactics for obvious reasons…
And this does rather remind of the fabulous story of a passenger on an old style slam-door train,(one where the carriage is subdivided into cabins of six with a corridor along one side.) To ensure solitude he used to lean out of the carriage and wave at people on the platform as it pulled into the next station, shouting “Come and join me there’s plenty of room”, clearly thinking he was a madman no-one took him up on his offer…
Will
On the Circle Line, nearly all stops are on one side of the carriage. Seats facing that direction are generally more sought after than seats backing the station, as you can see who is getting on the train (watchout for nutters) or watch for commotion. Another reason is that as you enter the carriage, you are more likely to sit in a seat directly ahead (if vacant) than do an about turn. The doors facing the station thus become very desirable, as you can squeeze up against them for many stops without having to move for exitters.
Central Line trains are rather squat. This means if you are above about 5′8, standing in positions designated 6, 7, 8 above are actually rather uncomfortable. Oh, and as any frequent commuter will agree, ‘6 6′ is usually ‘6 6 6′ (!). Once that middle 6 moves in, it probably becomes a ‘8 9 8′ as far as desirability goes.
Some lines have poles where you have marked 11. On those trains, pole huggers and pole liberators do mighty battle. As a liberator, my fist grabs the pole and knuckles extend at the height of the 5th vertebrae. For all those who consider an 11 a 1, I’m out to get you.
As 50% London commuters read newspapers (as opposed to say 5% in NYC), the ‘3’s should have a handedness. I much prefer to open my right hand toward open space, not the glass partition.
Yes, because seats are so comfy, less people will give up a spot for the elderly, infirmed, or pregnant. Cruel game. I think that’s an important distinction - in London seats are cushioned and mostly comfortable. In New York, for example, you have a bucket the size of the average 1970 butt or a plastic church pew.
I am a sad individual.
Wonderful, I have noticed this hierarchy before and probably subconsciously acted on it. It’s very easily applicable to the Bakerloo line, although this is relatively calm compared to other lines.
Nice work!
Greg
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I ride the train in Boston and I’d have to say that although our trains are organized differently, we have the same types of seat priorities. It’s interesting how much of this is base human nature. The desire to be near fresh air, the desire to have a certain amount of personal space, or the desire to have a clear exit option should the need arise. It would be interesting to know if train designers think about these things when organizing the seats in their cars.
Sssssssh. Keep this quiet! Way too much competition for the No. 1 spot as it is. Great post btw. Made me smile through out. TFL should publish this somewhere . . . haven’t read all the comments but the only thing I’d add is to allow for wind direction (up v down draft) and the potentially negative issue of the tube wind (ie think of all those sneezes and coughs that get carried down the centre of the carriages so a 6,7 or 8 might give you the defence you need . . .
This is amazing. I live in Los Angeles and, as you probably know, we don’t have useful mass transit at this point. It’s so interesting to see what captivates the mind on your commute.
I have classifications and subclassifications for the types of cars I jockey against. Cars get stereotyped as good/bad depending on your driving style. Minivans are the best and the worst because they either contain a slow driving motrher of three, or a super agressive bitter father of three who is forced to drive said minivan. Add to this the theories about routes and best lanes at particulars times for the same routes. Lots to think about.
Alas, my seat is always the same. I love the narrative in the comments for this post.
[...] meish dot org » Things my new commute has taught me #1 nice diagram of seating arrangements in a tube car (tags: blogs city comment commuting culture graphic.design london tube anthropology) [...]
Wonderful post. I personnally love positions 1 and 2.
I wonder if you could do a similar study when you are pregnant. I am in my 7th month and have noted some interesting observations
- until you are heavily pregnant, no-one will stand to give you a seat. I’m sure that many people bless the invention of the free newspaper and iPod to give them an obvious reason to be isolated in their world. I noticed a sharp change over the past week only (I am now 30 weeks pregnant) before that, it was really a question of luck.
- even when you are in your 7th month (therefore highly unlinkely to be mistaken for just being fat), when there is no one standing in the aisles blocking the view of people being seated, you can go up and down the carriage between the seats and yet, no-one will give you a seat. I often have to ask “would someone give me a seat”
- young women (in their 20’s) are the most likely to spontaneously give you a seat. As many of them may not have had children yet, I will put this down to feminine solidarity and the hope that the day they are pregnant, this good gesture will be rewarded by a similar behaviour towards them.
- then it’s men in their 30s, maybe because they have had pregnant partners and therefore know the complain !
- people in their 60’s will never give you a seat even though they clearly look fit and healthy and could overrun you easily at any time !
- amazingly, women in their 40’s, therefore more likely of having been pregnant themselves and knowing how standing up on your feet for more than 10′ after the 6th month is quite tiring (especially in hot carriages) are not very likely to give you a seat. Don’t know if it’s because they think “sorry lass, had to endure this in my time, it’s your turn now”.
- men in their 40’s, 50′, in good fitted business suits and nice shiny shoes so supposedly “well educated” never never give you a seat ! Maybe they are great businessmen but they certainly are great citizens !
We could easily run a series on the “people with a bike” as well, or “people with a puschair” !
Don’t get me started on those SUV pushchairs….especially in rush hour. When we see pregnant women we know whats coming next :)
[...] Kottke, This guy made a map of the hierarchy to the seats on the tube in London. Its pretty slick and made me think of how the behavior is similar on the heavy rail (The Red, [...]
[...] what you see, you may want to subscribe to my RSS feed. Thanks for visiting! Following on from my earlier ruminations about commuter seating preferences on the tube, I thought it was about time that I jotted down another thing I’ve noticed in the process of [...]
seems Pretty nothing much doing. worth ,