The system is for transit.
It’s a New York tradition for politicians to refer to the subway system as “the lifeblood of the city” and the “economic engine of our region.” They’re right, but they’re hardly stepping out on a ledge: The New York City subway is the largest in North America, moving millions of people each day and allowing the city to generate billions in economic activity. The system is inarguably the most important entity in the city — more important than any roadway, bridge, financial institution, single employer or other economic driver.
But you’ll know New York elected officials are actually serious about our subway when they stop sweeping our most intractable policy challenges — homelessness, serious mental illness, poverty — into the stations and onto subway platforms and instead commit New York City Transit to something challenging enough: providing 8 million people with safe, efficient transportation from one place to another. If you think this is already New York City Transit’s mission, let me assure you, it’s not. And I say this as someone who ran the system in 2020 and 2021.
Currently the system is serving a purpose (against its will) that it is in no way built to serve — as a host of last resort for people seeking shelter, food and sleep, or as a place to sell goods of questionable origin, use drugs, relieve themselves. It’s a place where the city’s deficiencies in social services, crime prevention, vendor licensing and treating mental illness all show up.
For political actors, there’s an obvious convenience to allowing your hardest policy problems to fester in the subways. Underground is out of sight from many (including some elected officials who rarely use the system, preferring their black SUVs) and it’s harder to get blamed for problems that are allowed to manifest in this not-exactly-public-but-not-exactly-private-either space.
But political negligence has enormous costs.
Thousands of people aren’t getting the treatment or services they deserve and desperately need. The seriously mentally ill are pushed out of hospital emergency rooms because they can be a challenging population to deal with (and are unlikely to pay the resulting bill). The lack of supportive housing has left people feeling hopeless, that they have nowhere else to go. Homeless shelters can be breeding grounds for theft and violence. So it should be no surprise that the subway system has become the catch-all for many of those who have been failed by New York in one way or another.
The result is there are thousands of individuals who choose to spend much of their time in the transit system. The system offers warmth and relief from the elements. Dark tunnels provide places to sleep or set up house if you are desperate or suffering enough from mental illness to choose the risk of death with every passing train. End-to-end train rides are long, and can offer uninterrupted semi-warmth in winter (and recent reporting shows you’re unlikely to be asked to leave the train even when it reaches its endpoint, despite transit rules). The generosity of commuters and outreach workers means individuals are likely to find food, water and other sustenance in the system. If someone wants to drink or use drugs, the transit system offers thousands of places to do so.
But what about the people who the system was built to serve in the first place? The vast majority of the people in the transit system are the millions of New Yorkers who rely on the subway to commute each day, and hundreds of thousands of New York City schoolchildren.
Complicating the inevitable interaction between these groups of people is the fact that they are forced to compete for space on narrow, 100-year-old platforms stretching between active, electrified tracks, with trains made up of tons of unforgiving steel racing through every few minutes. It’s an environment with high stakes, and zero room for error. Most days, and on most commutes, tragedy is avoided and the system actually works pretty well. But “works pretty well” doesn’t mean that it works in a way that makes any sense — and when something goes wrong, it can go very wrong. Simply put, this is no way to run a railroad.
And yet here we are, mostly because our elected officials have allowed it to get to this point. It is the inevitable result of our leaders being either uninterested, or insufficiently motivated, to do the hard work of addressing the challenges of housing, crime, mental illness — or at a minimum, they’ve refused to protect the system millions depend upon from the results of their inaction.
But we may finally be reaching a tipping point.
Stubbornly high crime numbers, a frightening increase in homicides, and prevalent disorder and chaos within the system have inspired New York’s elected officials to admit there are real crime and quality of life challenges playing out every day in the transit system — and that they must be addressed. (We are also being helped by the election calendar, which never ceases in its quadrennial ability to focus the minds of those who seek higher office.)
The tacit acknowledgement of the problem, and the accompanying end to the transit rider gaslighting, are welcome — as is the rush to announce grand plans to fix housing, mental illness and crime. But forgive New Yorkers who remain skeptical of the likelihood of our elected officials finally ending street homelessness, changing the laws to force treatment for the seriously mentally ill or suddenly being able to build enough supportive housing after decades of failure.
So perhaps the best next step is actually a much simpler one: While politicians solve for the hardest challenges facing the city, they should agree to remove those challenges from the subways in the meantime.
Simply put, while the vulnerable individuals seeking shelter in the transit system deserve the City’s help, the riders equally deserve a safe system for getting to and from work and school. Our elected leaders must come together with a clear message: The transit system’s purpose is to move people from one place to another safely and efficiently; we should not tolerate it being used for other purposes that interfere with that core mission.
It really is that simple. Executing on that promise is harder — but it is also not as difficult as our recent history would suggest.
The transit system’s purpose is to move people from one place to another safely and efficiently; we should not tolerate it being used for other purposes that interfere with that core mission.
Execution ultimately rests with the governor, who controls the MTA, and the mayor, who represents the vast majority of the riders and who oversees the police department — but it will also require discipline from other elected officials to stand together and assert that we will no longer ask the system to be more than it should ever have been.
But how to execute? By asking, urging, then requiring, people not using the system for transport to leave. An increase in policing, security and outreach staffing will be required in the beginning to make the new rules of the road clear. And those public servants will need to be focused, engaged and helpful. (Not standing in the corner looking at their phones, and not insisting that dealing with a vulnerable population is not part of their job description.)
To be clear: We cannot, and should not, try to arrest or ticket our way out of this problem. This is not about what is legal or what is grounds for arrest — it is about finally taking action based not on politics, but based on what is right for the city, and what we deem to be an acceptable use of the system that keeps our economy running and moves our children.
Police, outreach professionals and security contractors are more than equipped to approach those who are not using the system for transportation and remind them that they cannot stay. It’s just as countless librarians, bartenders, and security guards have said to millions of us: “you don’t have to go home,” (or even to a shelter) “but you cannot stay here.”
Yes, some people will become angry and frustrated. But the vast majority will simply exit the system.
For those who refuse, the police need to be part of the solution, but those interactions need not end in arrest or ticketing either. Just as fare evasion is best nipped by closing off the ability to enter the system without paying, the use of the system for things other than transport can best be nipped by simply not allowing it to be used for anything else: “I’m sorry sir, not here, but let me tell you about the other many options available to you.”
And for those who feel this is cruel, a reminder: It is much more cruel to turn away. We are a city that professes compassion, and a desire to assist those who need help. And we put billions of our hard-earned tax dollars toward trying to solve these problems. But our leaders fail repeatedly to take the next step, which is to actually push people successfully towards these resources.
I am not an expert on housing or mental health. But I know that when options are narrowed, decisions become easier. When the transit system is no longer an option for our most vulnerable, many will make a safer and healthier decision — to seek help or supportive services. At a minimum, they will relocate themselves to a place that is safer. Mental health crises may continue until an individual can get the help they need, but those crises will take place less frequently on narrow platforms or in the path of an approaching train.
Does New York City have a long-term solution for each individual that will be asked to leave the subway? Politicians will say we do not, but that answer displays the same lack of agency and will that got us here in the first place. The reality is that there are only a few thousand individuals who need a long-term path of exit from the system. And so yes, politicians must do the hard work of addressing the housing crisis and the mental illness crisis. But in the meantime, don’t tell me the city and state bureaucracies of New York are incapable of taking care of a few thousand individuals in crisis.
So politicians, please, stop hiding your problems in the subway. Fix them. Show the riders your political courage. Commit New York City Transit to a responsibility that is plenty demanding: providing 8 million people with safe, efficient transportation from one place to another.
Let the subway system be the subway system. If you can do it, the lifeblood of the city will thrive.