Salvini’s new traffic code, Roman style

While the future of transport is being shaped among San Francisco, Silicon Valley and Texas—amid discussions of driverless and even flying cars, as recently demonstrated by Elon Musk—in Italy, the Rome model reigns supreme. Does this refer to the sophisticated "Cerbero" software recently adopted by the capital’s traffic wardens, which employs artificial intelligence to issue fines en masse with an electronic—and therefore infallible—eye? Or of Rome’s partnership with Kansas City, following the recent visit to Italy by the mayor of that American city? Not at all; here, the eye is human, all too human (and Roman). It is that exchange of glances that takes place at zebra crossings between the motorist and the pedestrian, and which is finally being regulated under the new Highway Code. 

Filling a serious gap, the new Highway Code – provisionally approved by the Council of Ministers on 13 October and now under consideration by Parliament – effectively changes the rules for crossing the road. Article 64 stipulates that, before stepping onto the zebra crossing, a pedestrian must stop and check that approaching drivers have seen them and are stopping to give way. It is no longer enough to be in the right: you must ensure you are recognised as such. It takes a knowing glance – like at a dance, or in a saloon between a sheriff and a gunslinger – before stepping onto the scene.

The law has thought of everything, including motorists, who must stop not only when someone is crossing but also when they are about to do so, and without braking suddenly, but by slowing down gradually. The key lies in maintaining constant vigilance. The result is a typical Italian farce, somewhere between Il vigile and An American in Rome, both starring Alberto Sordi: the pedestrian waits for the car to stop, the car waits for the pedestrian to begin crossing, and the two end up conceding the right of way to one another.

Things could remain this way until 1 January 2028, when the reform evidently sought by Minister Salvini is due to come into effect. And it is a paradox that the Lega, once again betraying its roots, is set to institutionalise and nationalise a system that until now had been confined to the much-maligned capital. Whilst in Milan, as in Northern Europe and the most progressive countries, pedestrians cross at zebra crossings with a confidence that is, let’s face it, somewhat superficial – the confidence of someone pompously exercising their right – in Rome there is instead a dialogue, a dance of glances. The pedestrian must step out and make eye contact with the motorist (in San Francisco and Kansas City they would say eye contact).

As a pedestrian, I must capture the driver's attention, hold it steadily, and ensure that the vehicle comes to a complete stop before I can cross. Otherwise, if the seduction does not work, the pedestrian risks being left on the pavement forever (at best): if the motorist feels ‘not seen’, as they would say in San Francisco and Kansas City, they rightly will not even slow down.

Like those tourists who, often unaware of this rather peculiar custom, simply stand there waiting for the car to stop of its own accord—I’ll say goodbye to you. Crossing the road is a couples’ sport in Rome. Any provocation or lack of eye contact may be met with fierce determination. Simply standing still will prevent you from ever crossing: some have been motionless at the same spot since the 2000 Jubilee. According to the unwritten rules of Roman-style crossings, the crossing guard is entitled to a token of thanks once his duty is fulfilled. The gesture need not be elaborate; the sentiment behind it is what counts, as we are a straightforward people. Once safely on the other side of the road, the pedestrian will typically nod or offer a slight bow (either after completing the crossing or even during it—opinions vary, much like the etiquette surrounding flowers: whether to present them at dinner, send them in the afternoon, or deliver them the following day).

In short, the new text is a veritable etiquette manual: it even forbids pedestrians from making ‘sudden or unpredictable movements, or changes in direction’. Where there are no zebra crossings, one must cross ‘by choosing the most favourable moment’. Salvini’s ‘Lina Sotis’ version (a splendid Roman woman in Milan) leaves nothing out, not even the dress code. At night, on unlit roads outside built-up areas, pedestrians must wear “a reflective jacket or braces” (which, of course, each of us will always carry with us).

Moreover, Salvini and Sotis also sought to ban mobile phones. Not for drivers, but for pedestrians. The summer draft, in fact, provided for a 75-euro fine for anyone crossing at zebra crossings while looking at a mobile (it is considered rude to the driver who is allowing you to cross, much like using your phone at the dinner table). The provision was later scrapped. Italy has not yet reached the level of pedestrian persecution seen in Kansas City in 1912, when police stopped the first ‘jaywalker’—a pedestrian who breaks the rules. That action provoked a riot. It remains uncertain how such a measure would be received in Italy, where pedestrians and traffic wardens are often familiar with one another.