Once a week I make a roundtrip commute via Amtrak from NYC to Washington DC. On each trip I sit in the quiet car: the one car on the train where loud noise isn’t permitted. The rules of the quiet car are straightforward: no use of cell phones, no loud electronic devices, and keep all conversations to a library-like whisper.
As a PhD student in the field of conflict resolution, I frequently use the solitude of the three-and-a-half hour commute to reflect on the major conflicts in the world. It often happens, however, that the quiet car gives me an opportunity to gain first-hand experience with real-life conflict.
The trouble with the quiet car is simple: not everyone is quiet. When people don’t follow the rules, conflict develops between passengers who police the car and those who transgress its norms.
It goes something like this: You’re sitting snugly in your seat, when you hear the following monologue a few seats behind you:
“Yeah, Jack, it looks like we’re going to have to reschedule that meeting…I told you so!…She may not like it, but that’s her problem… By the way, did you catch the game last night?”
As the conversation continues, you think, “How can this jerk be so disrespectful?” So you turn your head, try to identify the culprit and “hit” them with the stink eye. When the strategy fails, you think about confronting the guy. You search the train for moral support, hoping someone else will do the job for you, and finally summon the courage (not without anxiety) for a face-off.
“Excuse me”, you say, “This is the quiet car and you’re making way too much noise. It’s rude.”
The response you get depends on the type of passenger you confront. Will he shut the phone off, or just tell you to buzz off? Continue reading
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