{"id":71426,"date":"2026-04-16T08:15:15","date_gmt":"2026-04-16T12:15:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/spacing.ca\/toronto\/?p=71426"},"modified":"2026-04-15T15:36:42","modified_gmt":"2026-04-15T19:36:42","slug":"op-ed-on-your-left-isnt-the-problem","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/spacing.ca\/toronto\/2026\/04\/16\/op-ed-on-your-left-isnt-the-problem\/","title":{"rendered":"OP-ED: “On Your Left” Isn\u2019t the Problem"},"content":{"rendered":"

Under Ontario\u2019s Highway Traffic Act<\/a>, people riding bikes are required to have a few basic pieces of safety equipment: a properly fitted helmet, a white front light, a red rear light, and a bell or horn.<\/p>\n

That last requirement is the one that sparked this reflection.<\/p>\n

What happens when someone riding a bike doesn\u2019t ring the bell while approaching pedestrians or slower users on a path? What if instead they simply use their voice and say, \u201cOn your left\u201d?<\/p>\n

Is that rude?<\/p>\n

That question came to mind after reading a recent piece in Cycling Canada Magazine<\/em> by Terry McKall titled \u201cOn your left\u2019 is cycling\u2019s worst habit<\/a>.\u201d His argument is that shouting the phrase startles pedestrians, annoys people on shared trails, and contributes to the perception that cyclists are inconsiderate users of public space.<\/p>\n

I read the piece with interest. But I also read it with a fair amount of skepticism.<\/p>\n

We are people first, riders second<\/strong><\/h2>\n

Before getting too deep into the debate about bells versus voices, it\u2019s probably worth saying something about identity.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve never really thought of myself as a cyclist. If that\u2019s how you identify, that\u2019s great. But I\u2019ve always thought of myself simply as a person who rides a bike<\/em>.<\/p>\n

That distinction might seem small, but I think it can shape how you move through public space.<\/p>\n

When you see yourself primarily as a cyclist, it\u2019s easy to frame interactions with others as a conflict between user groups. Cyclists versus pedestrians. Cyclists versus drivers. Cyclists versus everyone.<\/p>\n

But when you think of yourself as a person who rides a bike, the lens shifts.<\/p>\n

You\u2019re not a category of road user defending your turf. You\u2019re simply another person moving through shared space. Sometimes faster, sometimes slower, but always responsible for how your movement affects the people around you.<\/p>\n

Most people moving through these spaces are not trying to upset anyone. People are commuting. Exercising. Walking a dog. Teaching a child how to balance. Getting a bit of fresh air after a long day. The vast majority of interactions on paths and lanes happen without incident.<\/p>\n

As Andrew Cuthbert observes in his reflection on everyday riding etiquette in Bike Manners<\/a>:<\/p>\n

\u201cCyclists are not a uniform group, people get out for all kinds of reasons, but in general, people are out to have a good time.\u00a0 Be mindful of your surroundings and the people around you, be courteous and polite and we can all have a good time.\u201d<\/p>\n

That reminder helps keep small moments of friction in perspective.<\/p>\n

Because the goal isn\u2019t perfect behaviour, the goal is behaviour that is legible and comfortable for others sharing the same space.<\/p>\n

From that perspective, the question stops being whether \u201con your left\u201d is rude.<\/p>\n

The more useful question becomes:<\/p>\n

how do we move around each other safely and respectfully?<\/p>\n

How we signal matters less than why we signal<\/strong><\/h2>\n

The Highway Traffic Act requires a bell or horn so that someone riding a bike can signal their presence<\/a>. That requirement makes sense. People moving faster than others need a way to communicate that they are approaching.<\/p>\n

But nowhere does the law say communication must only happen through a bell.<\/p>\n

On most of the paths and lanes I travel, you\u2019ll hear a mix of signals:<\/p>\n