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 travelling across London every day (and back) during the peak busy periods.

We all know that tubes are crowded during rush hour. Space is a commodity, and it’s hard fought for, clung to, and bitterly conceded. But what’s interesting is the inventive ways that people find to create or compensate for a lack of space.

When seated, there are three main methods for preserving personal space:

1. Putting things on the seat beside you (if there is one) to keep it empty for as long as possible.

   Things can include:

   • Shopping bags
   • Briefcases or other bags
   • Piles of free newspapers
   • Rubbish including bottles, cans, apple cores, banana skins and crisp packets
   • Your feet
   • Other bits of your anatomy

   All of these things are designed to dissuade potential sitters from taking up occupation via the simple method of assuming (quite rightly, in many cases) that the typical reserved British commuter would instinctively shy away from the social awkwardness of asking someone to make room. This is focused on the concern that, in many ways, this action is tantamount to saying “I really want to sit next to you”, whereas it actually means “look, I really want to sit down, and unfortunately, that means next to you.”

I did hear someone say the other day (on QI, I think - it might have been Phil Jupitus) that the best way to prevent someone from sitting next to you was to leave the seat empty and, when you see someone making a beeline for it, make eye contact, smile in a slightly mad way and pat the empty seat in an inviting manner. People will suddenly, strangely be fine standing.

2. Spreading out - occupying as much space as possible by using your limbs in a strategic fashion.

   There are two main methods here:

   • Elbows. Thanks to the advent of the free sociopathic freesheet, this tactic has become a breeze. The paper extended to full stretch occupies a greater width than the average human bottom, so while your rear may be confined to a single seat, your arms and elbows, at an obtuse angle, can reclaim space above the waist, which in turn prevents your neighbour from being able to impinge on your personal comfort zone.
   • Legs. This is much easier to achieve for men than women, for reasons which will quickly become apparent.

     Gentlemen, I understand that you have ENORMOUS genitalia. I further understand that because of this it must be difficult to walk, let alone sit. This must be why, when you get on the tube in your Hugo Boss suit, and claim a seat, you feel the need to open your legs so wide that your seat-mate is reduced to a prim, squished perch.

     Let’s examine the evidence:
     
     
     Notice how the male of the species has splayed so that his knees occupy not only the diameter of his own seat, but also the half-seat beside him (he’s in the coveted #1 spot) and half of his neighbour’s, too.

     Note how the female of the species is confined to a tiny space, her knees pressed together and cowering from the epic grandeur of her seat-mate’s crotch.

     This is truly majestic space invasion, performed by an obvious master of the art. If a woman did this, people would be forgiven for thinking she was practising for the gynaecologist, or in the process of giving birth.

3. Newtons third law (which states that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction).

   This means that if your seatmate angles to the left, you must angle to the right. If they lean forward, you must lean back. If they sit upright, you slouch, and vice versa. This enables you to preserve the optimum personal space and, crucially, prevents you from appearing attracted to or sympathetic with a complete stranger by mirroring their body posture.

   A good example of this can be seen below:
   
   One leans back, so the other is forced to lean forward, in order to maximise differentiation and space.

When standing, however, your options are limited to use of elbows (see above) and use of bags, which can be effective in providing a barrier between you and other commuters. But be warned: if you take an interrailing-size backpack onto the tube, people will think you are either a terrorist or a tourist or else someone blantently taking the piss. Seriously: don’t do it.

So, personal space matters. This I have become acutely aware of. But what happens when you have no choice and are squished up against people, and there is no space to be had? I’ll tackle that in a seperate piece, I think.