It has now been about two months since I’ve commuted anywhere. The last time I commuted to work was March 16th, when I drove downtown to the DBT Centre, and we spent the day converting our services to Telehealth. I drove that day because the pandemic situation was heating up, and I was unsure whether transit was safe. I arrived only to find that our parking spot was taken, and I drove around frantically, eventually finding a spot that didn’t cost an arm and a leg. Although I made the most of my weekly commute downtown and my other commute up to the university (in ways I’ll describe later below), I can’t say that I miss the morning rush, rushing to the bus or train, fighting traffic, or desperately seeking a parking spot. Meeting with people by Zoom is not quite as satisfying as meeting in person, but I must say it is rather nice to commute only 30 seconds to my third-floor office, have meetings, and then take a break on the patio in my backyard. Having two kids at home constantly does present challenges, but I fortunately have some excellent noise cancelling headphones, a must-have for anyone who works with kids at home.
In any case, I wanted to spend a little more time talking about some of the downsides of commuting, and I think this is timely given the slow loosening of restrictions in B.C. Even before everyone was talking about this because of COVID-19, studies had been conducted on the psychological effects of commuting. Some research has indicated that peoples’ moods are lower while commuting than during other activities, that certain characteristics of the commute elevate stress, such as congestion, crowding, and unpredictability, and that the stress from commuting may spillover into the home environment (Chatterjee et al., 2019). Other studies have suggested that long commutes are related to a variety of psychological and physical symptoms. As with other stressful activities, people tend to be better off when they have some control or choice over their commuting activities than when commuting is perceived as uncontrollable (https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/commuting-takes-its-toll/). People who have an active commute, such as walking or cycling to work (let’s face it, a normal commute via car or transit involves an awful lot of sitting, and sitting is the new smoking), or who commute with others, tend to feel better about it as well (Chatterjee et al., 2019).
I can certainly relate to these findings. When I commute downtown, I choose to take a train that provides a very nice view, and to get off at the main train station and walk 15-20 minutes up to the office. Sitting and reading my book with beautiful scenery outside the window and walking the interesting streets of downtown Vancouver are among my favourite aspects of that commute. I also enjoy being around other people on the train, even if I’m not directly interacting with them. There is a sense of community that you don’t get when you drive alone in your car. I used to drive up to the university, but when parking became harder to find, I switched to transit, and when I got tired of transit, I decided to drive to the bottom of the hill (I work on Burnaby Mountain, a 1200 foot mountain) and hike to my office. Driving and hiking add time to the commute, but I always find the hike up and down to be energizing transition periods in my day. People who miss the commute and are having a hard time working from home might also find it helpful to build in transition periods in the morning and afternoon. Opening the door of your home office and walking directly into your regular home life can be a little jarring. I usually solve this problem by having a good morning routine before starting work and going for a hike at the end of each work day. This provides time to reflect and become re-energized, and I think these can be benefits of a carefully planned and active commute.
OK, so even though there are ways to enhance your commute and recreate some of the benefits of commuting while working from home, commuting is still stupid for another very important reason, which I’ll address next time. To be continued, again…
~ Alexander L. Chapman, Ph.D., R.Psych.