The communities on the north side of Indianapolis have embraced traffic circles as a way of dealing with growth. Also known as roundabouts, these circular inserts have replaced traditional traffic signals and stop signs at many intersections along major thoroughfares, bringing the joys and frustrations that accompany pretty much any change in our patterns. Personally, I’m a fan. Though they have likely increased work at local body shops, they seem quite effective at keeping traffic flowing.

Rolling through a busy roundabout the other day, I received an aggressive honk from a fellow driver who was annoyed by my navigation of the circle and my proximity to her pathway. My first reaction to being called out thus is typically a range of reactive annoyance that then turns to analysis of correctness in the encounter. Who was wrong and who was right? Was I in the wrong lane? Did she round when she should have gone straight? Was I being too aggressive? Was she?

On that particular morning, I had to traverse an additional six very busy roundabouts. Now somewhat contemplative about these very dynamic carousels of human encounter, I began to notice the way drivers approached them, how they entered, and how they reacted to each other. The variables are many: speed, traffic volume, directionality of traffic volume, level of aggression in driving, road conditions, size of circle, number of lanes, type of vehicle, etc. Along the way, I witnessed the full range of humanity in these driver’s patience, impatience, kindness, meanness, aggression, passivity, distractedness, focus, fear, indifference, and anger.

Driving along, I began to think about the difference between these traffic circles and the stop lights they replaced. Comparatively speaking, the stop lights were well-ordered and structured while the roundabouts seemed much more chaotic. The stop lights had very specific rules of engagement while the roundabouts brought a bit of “anything goes” to the morning commute. With the stop lights, one knew exactly when one should stop or go and it was pretty clear when another driver made the wrong choice. In the roundabout, the blur of humanity made such clarity elusive.

Then it hit me. The stop light is about order, rules, justice. We know when someone has broached it’s command. The roundabout is about chaos, directionality, and mercy. Right and wrong are fuzzier so we are forced to endure more uncertainty. The stop light tells us what to do, the roundabout forces us to engage with other drivers and negotiate decisions we have to make for ourselves. There is structure in a roundabout, but it demands more from us both in how we think and how we react.

Thinking about the honk I had just received, I realized that her reaction was a response to the notion that I had broken a rule and acted unjustly. That is so very American. We are really attentive to the places where we feel others have broken the rules. In fact, one might say we are hyper-focused on the mistakes of others and our sense of being wronged. We rail at such injustice, real or imagined, and our reactions reflect our deep indignation of such breaches.

But the roundabout is about give and take, anticipation, and timing. It demands an acceptance of imperfection and less clarity in the “right” response to situations. There are still rules, but they demand more flexibility and more allowances for the other. The roundabout is more about mercy and less about justice.

Roundabouts requires us to live in the tension of the give and take, the edge where there is a less exact rule and we have to assess the situation and respond to it in all of it’s glorious uncertainty. Navigating these traffic circles demands a higher level of anticipation of the other, not in the expectation of compliance to a law, but in the highly dynamic variability of his or her free will. We have to roll with it. There is no light telling us what to do. We have to decide.

How should we approach the roundabout? Am I approaching it with confidence or hesitation? Am I coming in too fast or too slow? Am I taking or giving? Am I anticipating or expecting? With anticipation, there is less surprise and perhaps less shock. Expectation in the absolute rule leads to frustration, disappointment, anger. It didn’t go according to plan or my expectation was not met. Anticipation is subjective, it is more jazz, less arrangement. It is give and take – more mercy and less justice.

Of course, there are places, and a need, for both. We must have clear expectations, clear rules, and know we can count on specific justice. However, much of what it means to be human happens in mercy. Giving grace for the unexpected, the mistake, the misunderstanding, or the difference in interpretation. We tend to live more joyfully when we assume positive intent and occasionally subdue our own expectations in deference to the other.

Perhaps there are good some rules of engagement for the roundabout. Approach with confidence, anticipate the other, and be ready to go when it’s your turn, knowing that they are also trying to get somewhere. Be prepared to slow to let someone in or accelerate to move out of the way. Look for ways to share the space rather than resent others for getting in your way. Forgive when someone’s decision inconveniences you, realizing that having to tap your break or pause for a moment is really not the end of the world.

Hmm. Maybe there’s more to these roundabouts than meets the eye.

Photo Credit: WRTV