In the autumn of 1944, Toronto City Council considered an updated traffic bylaw for approval. After the first two readings, the proposed bylaw was held two weeks for further consideration, after several Toronto aldermen took issue with the section pertaining to pedestrians. Of particular interest was a regulation that “pedestrians proceeding in opposite directions shall pass each other on the right, and no person shall run or race on any highway or crowd or jostle other pedestrians so as to cause disturbance, discomfort, or confusion.” Days later, Toronto found itself a source of national—and international—ridicule.
Prior to the First World War, North American city streets were considered shared space. Not only were they the means by which pedestrians, cyclists, and other vehicles got around, but they were frequently a gathering place.
Automobiles, with their considerable horsepower, presented a new danger, and challenged how city dwellers used and thought of their roads. In his 2008 book
Fighting Traffic: The Dawn of the Motor Age in the American City, historian
Peter D. Norton writes that “before 1920 American pedestrians crossed streets wherever they wished, walked in them, and let their children play in them . . . If an automobile injured or killed a pedestrian,” Norton continues, “the motorist was responsible. This was the presumptive conclusion under traditional perceptions of the city street as a public space.”