MOTOR MADNESS.

Progress, Volume I, Issue 7, 1 May 1906, Page 178

MOTOR MADNESS.

How is it that people who in the ordinary affairs of life are humane, considerate and careful, lose this character the moment they seat themselves m a motor ? This is not true, of course, of all or of a majority, but it is becoming more evident every day that a certain small minority of motorists appear to lose their civilised characteristics when under the influence of the machine-driven car, writes M.D., in the London Daily Express. Are we then to assume that the civilisation of these people is a mere veneer, a skin-deep covering over a natural brutality that needs only the incentive of excitement to leap to the surface and show the hidden savagery below ? It would be easy to be content with this explanation of a new and startling phenomenon. We might simply condemn these people as detected savages. But would it be fair ? After

travelled a distance of over 150 miles at an average rate of between thirty and forty miles an hour. He had passed through towns and villages at a dangerous speed, chafing at the necessity for caution, and the car had finally arrived in the London suburbs at nightfall, with its begrimed occupants, suffering from aching eyes, quivering limbs, and nerves in the last stage of exhaustion. My friend was gloriously elated. He was full of how they had beaten a bigger car of greater power, how the silly fowls had flown into the danger of the wheels like moths into a candle flame, how a dog had been knocked six feet into a hedge. I was startled. My friend was naturally inspired by a most sensitive humanity and loathing of cruelty and pain in any form. The very idea of danger to little children, of suffering inflicted upon animals, was utterly repugnant to him. So I began to question him as to his feelings during these experiences, and ask him how he reconciled them with his ordinary principles and feelings. By this time the exultation

all. if reckless motoring were merely the product of brutal instincts, surely the existence of these instincts could not have been concealed from the world so long. We have not merely to explain brutal behaviour. We are face to face with an extraordinary change in character produced apparently by a single action. It seems clear that there are certain temperaments which are strongly affected by the rapid motion of a motor car. The vibration the bounding action, above all, the breathless rush in the teeth of a gale of its own making, with the landscape and all unconnected objects flying past with bewildering speed — all seem to combine to act upon some minds with the effect of a strong and deranging stimulant. The very expression upon the facp of such a person betrays the highly wrought excitement and complete loss of balance that have overtaken the victim of this new mania. The drawn features, straining eyes, and contracted muscles are accompanied sometimes by what appears to be almost a form of agony, sometimes by an extreme nervous elation and a wild hilarity. The outward effects of this nervous state are two-fold. First, there is a passionate desire to increase the speed to the utmost limit. The rush and whirl seem to bring a mad longing to annihilate space, and all else is forgotten m the one craving for speed. In the second place, and as a consequence of this first prepossession, there is a feeling of annoyance against any other user of the road — human or animal — that in any way hinders the flight of the car. This feeling, among some people — at first mere annoyance tempered with impatient caution — soon becomes a feeling of active malignity against these obstacles to speed. This hatred of the human or animal obstacle finally develops, if the speed of the car rises to a high rate, into a desire to injure the obstacle. " Serves it right for being m the way," is the unformed thought of the victim of motor mania as a wretched dog is crushed beneath the wheels. Some months ago a friend of mine experienced his first motor trip. He had for years joined in the common cry against the recklessness and selfishness of some motorists who disregard the risk of life and limb in pursuit of their desire for speed. His attitude on the question was blamelessly orthodox. I shall never forget meeting him one night after his first experience of riding in a motor car. He had

of the ride was wearing off, and mere fatigue was taking its place. He became himself again, and frankly admitted that the motion of the car and the effect of extreme speed had acted upon his mmd like a strong stimulant, and that for the time being he^ had been the personification of all the emotions he'iiad been accustomed to deplore. This new mental disease has a very serious side. The weakness of a minority, their want of power of self-control, their yielding to this state, all tend to bring undeserved discredit and unpopularity upon the great body of motorists. One suggestion has been made which deserves careful investigation. It promises to supply a scientific and adequate explanation of the phenomenon. It is well known that mountain climbers who ascend great heights often experience extraordinary sensations upon

breathing the rarefied air. The highly oxygenated atmosphere acts upon them with all the effects of a stimulating and intoxicating drug. A sense of elation, a feeling of lightheadedness comes over them. They are, in fact, intoxicated with oxygen. It is suggested that the rapid rush of a motor car causes those who are exposed to the wind pressure to inhale fresh air so rapidly that the blood becomes undulyoxygenated, and a form of intoxication is experienced similar to that of the mountain climber.