The turnstile revolt

Apparently, it would be counterintuitive to question the movement for free bus fares due to a lack of radicalism. After all, there's rebellion for every taste and cause: health, education, corrupt politicians, World Cup spending. The 20-cent increase was the last straw in a general challenge to the status quo.

Its beginning reminded me of an episode in Rio, in the 50s, during the JK government, against the increase in streetcar fares. I was five years old and very afraid of the streetcars catching fire. Then they abolished the streetcars. Fare increases have already sparked dozens of riots, but urban mobility has only gotten worse.

Such a mobilization reflects a societal phenomenon, not evident beforehand and difficult to interpret during the event. It produces great exaltation, a civic orgasm. Afterwards, it tends to decline, leaving behind a militant generation that tries to give some political, organizational, or even electoral consequence to the event, generally with results falling short of what was expected at that great moment.

The violence associated with vandalism and police brutality is a kind of collateral effect, unless it gets completely out of control—which generally doesn't happen with predominantly middle-class mobilizations.

Is it logical to make free public transportation the central demand? Public transportation is never truly "free," it will always be paid for—by the user or the taxpayer, or in varying amounts by both. It's unfair that wealthy or middle-class young people can avoid paying for their fares when they can afford it. Some workers receive subsidies from their companies in the form of transportation vouchers.

It is correct to demand the expansion of these subsidies by linking them to income transfer programs. Bus fares in Brazil are clearly above the international average. The newspaper "El País" compared: a worker in Madrid spends six minutes of work to pay for their bus fare, while in São Paulo, they spend 14 minutes.

There is a lack of transparency in the spreadsheets used by bus companies, which understandably need to have fares (or receive subsidies) to keep the business viable, since nationalization experiments have not worked. But their profits cannot be excessive. Their corrupt activity is notorious.

We need to put an end to the infamous "slush funds," the most common form of corruption in Brazilian politics, and a major obstacle to regulation that ensures quality.

For most users, even worse than a 20-cent increase is the poor quality of services. The bus system, even with BRTs and BRSs, has its operation compromised by the dizzying growth of the subsidized car fleet—without any corresponding reduction in emissions—by the federal government. Distraught traffic jams are the hallmark of any Brazilian city. São Paulo, then...

If the funds allocated to subsidies for the automotive industry, road construction, or high-speed rail projects were invested in mass transit (subways and trains), high-capacity buses (BRT), the underutilized waterway transport system, and bike lanes with widespread availability of bicycles—these, indeed, potentially free as they would be financed by advertising—we would see a substantial improvement in urban mobility.

Investments in operational efficiency, in single-ticket systems combining various modes of transport, and real-time user information would also help.

It will be indispensable—and inevitable at some point in the future—to radically place clear limits on individual motorized transport, with the introduction of congestion charges in the form of electronic urban tolls.

A truly radical challenge to our failed, socially unjust, and environmentally unsustainable urban mobility system requires a carbon tax—replacing other taxes—and, above all, proclaiming loudly and clearly that the automobile is naked.