The last article I read, Vikas Mehta’s “Walkable Streets: Pedestrian Behavior, Perceptions and Attitudes,” expanded on Mariela A. Alfonzo’s notion of a hierarchy of walking needs. Of course, in the interests of thoroughness, I need to read Alfonzo’s apparently influential article. Perhaps, between Mehta’s work, Alfonzo’s, and Michael Southworth’s, I’ll be able to come up with my own definition of walkability, against which I can measure the places I walk in this city and the places I’ve walked in the UK, where convivial and participatory art walking practices exist in a particular context of walkability that supports a culture of walking that doesn’t—and this is my hypothesis—exist here. But in order to support that hypothesis—and I won’t be able to do the kind of qualitative and quantitative research Mehta did in the Boston area, or Filipe Moura, Paulo Cambra, and Alexandre B. Gonçalves conducted in Lisbon, since I’m not a social scientist and have no ambition to become one—I will first need to continue with my literature survey. Of course, I could just make a bold claim—this city isn’t walkable!—but I think it’s necessary to be a little more scholarly than that. So here goes.
In “To Walk or Not to Walk? The Hierarchy of Walking Needs,” Alfonzo begins by pointing out that the number of walking trips made in the United States dropped by half between 1977 and 1995, to just 5.3% of all trips made (808). Sedentary lifestyles are a health problem, and walking could help address the high rates of obesity in America. Health researchers are attempting “to identify individual-level characteristics that affect a person’s physical activity levels,” while planning researchers are looking at “physical-environmental variables related to walking” (809). “Adopting a narrow approach to a multilevel problem such as the decrease in walking has led to a piecemeal understanding of the factors affecting walking,” Alfonzo writes (809). It is critical, she continues, “to understand how and when individual, group, regional, and physical-environmental factors come into play within the decision-making process”—that is, the process that guides people to decide to walk or not—“not only to understand their roles theoretically but also to better translate research results into effective policies, program interventions, and design guidelines” (817). To address that need, “this article offers a social-ecological conceptual model for how both urban and nonurban form factors may interact to affect walking” (817). First, Alfonzo will offer “a new theory of how to conceptually organize the various urban form (and nonurban form) variables that may affect walking” (817). Then, she will place that theory “into a socio-ecological framework that conceptualizes the walking decision-making process as a dynamic one, with antecedents, mediators, interprocesses (moderators), and multiple outcomes” (817). Then, after discussing her theory more thoroughly, she will discuss the role of choice and self-selection in that model. Finally, she will discuss the potential usefulness of that model (817).
Alfonzo notes that many factors—individual, group, regional, and physical-environmental—affect walking, but “it is not clearly understood which of these factors are most salient, nor is it clear how or whether these factors interact in affecting a person’s level of physical activity” (817). Her conceptual model suggests that these variables affect someone’s choice to walk “at different points in his or her decision-making process,” and that some of those factors are more prominent in that process than others (817-18). To organize those factors, Alfonzo posits the existence of “a hierarchy of walking needs” (818). She applies Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs to the process of deciding to go for a walk, proposing five levels of needs that are involved (818). “These needs progress from the most basic need, feasibility (related to personal limits), to higher-order needs (related to urban form) that include accessibility, safety, comfort, and pleasurability, respectively,” Alfonzo writes:
Within this hierarchical structure, an individual would not typically consider a higher-order need in his or her decision to walk if a more basic need was not already satisfied. Thus, for example, if the need for safety is not met, a person would not consider his or her need for comfort or pleasurability when deciding whether to walk because the more basic need, safety, is unmet. In other words, a very comfortable or pleasurable environment would not necessarily compel a person to walk if his or her need for safety was lacking. (818)
Alfonzo points out that not all needs have to be fully satisfied before proceeding to the next level. “A person may only be partially satisfied with his or her need for accessibility, for example, yet still consider his or her need for safety when determining whether to walk,” she states. “Also, the levels within the hierarchy may not always proceed in the order depicted. Some people may reverse the order of some of the levels within the hierarchy. For example, people who are constantly deprived of a need may forgo that need altogether and look to a higher need, despite not satisfying that basic need” (818). In addition, walking can be motivated by simultaneous needs: “a person may be motivated to walk both because the walk is comfortable and because it is pleasurable” (818). The decision-making process might not be conscious, either, and a motivation to do something doesn’t mean that the person will follow through and perform that act (818). Even if all needs in the hierarchy are met, the person might not walk; on the other hand, the person might walk even if some of the needs in the hierarchy remain unmet (819). “Thus, the realization of these five needs is neither necessary nor sufficient to induce walking,” Alfonzo writes. “The choice to walk can occur anywhere on the hierarchy” (819).
For that reason, Alfonzo argues that the hierarchy of walking needs model can’t explain the entire walking decision-making process (819). “Rather, the hierarchy must be placed wihtin the context of a social-ecological framework to fully understand how people make the decision to walk,” she writes (819). She contends that “the hierarchy of walking needs organizes the various urban form variables identified to be significant by existing research into a hierarchy of prepotency,” meaning that “some urban form variables are more fundamental (or necessary) within the decision-making process” (819). In addition, that framework makes feasibility the most basic need, “for which fulfillment is necessary to even consider urban form within the decision to walk” (819).
Here, Alfonzo turns to James Gibson’s notion of affordances, “the set of properties that are present within an environment that allow for the occurrence of a behavior” (819). If, for instance, a surface is firm, horizontal, and appropriately sized, “that surface affords the support necessary for a person to stand on it,” but for standing (a behaviour) to occur, “a person must perceive the affordance that a particular environment or object provides” (819). Therefore, people’s perceptions, habits, and motivations help to determine whether they perceive a particular affordance (819). The affordance of the needs in the hierarchy may affect the decision to walk: “an individual’s perceptions, habits, and motivations will help to determine whether a particular need in the hierarchy is met,” so “people may differ with respect to the affordances they perceive within the environment” (819-21). For instance, one person “may perceive the affordances necessary to meet his or her need for safety, whereas another person may not” (821). In this way, “a person’s perception of an affordance for a particular need may act as a mediator between the hierarchy of needs and the choice to walk” (821).
“Within the social-ecological model of walking, neither the hierarchy of needs nor a person’s perception with respect to the affordances a particular setting may present are a direct link to a person’s decision to walk,” Alfonzo continues. “There are several interprocesses that act as moderators within the walking decision-making process” (821). Life-cycle circumstances—which may include “a person’s individual-level attributes (including biological, psychological, demographic characteristics, etc.), group-level characteristics (including sociological and cultural factors), and the regional-level attributes of his or her walking setting (including topography, climate, geography, etc.)”—“may affect the level within the hierarchy at which he or she is sufficiently satisfied to decide to walk” (821). Those circumstances are “interprocesses or moderators in the decision to walk” (821). Considering them as moderators “creates a more complete, dynamic framework within which to investigate their effect on physical activity” (821). Those complicated characteristics “all moderate the relationship between the hierarchy of walking needs and a person’s decision to walk” (821). Thus, someone who is highly committed to their health and believes that walking is a good source of exercise may only need one of the basic needs to be fulfilled before deciding to walk, while someone who is less motivated by health and exercise may require the fulfillment of higher-order needs before making that decision (821). Other individual factors—attitudes toward driving or automobiles, for instance—may affect “the number of levels that must be met for a person to decide to walk” (823). “A person’s psychological health, expectations, motivations, and other psychological, cognitive, or emotional-level attributes may all affect the point on the hierarchy at which a person decides to walk,” Alfonzo suggests (823).
Demographic variables also moderate the relationship between the hierarchy of walking needs and decisions to walk: for instance, older people walk less than younger people, perhaps because physical mobility limitations or health problems make walking less feasible (823). For that reason, “even if a setting affords the factors necessary to satisfy higher-order needs such as comfort and pleasurability, an older person may still decide not to walk because his or her basic needs are not sufficiently satisfied” (823). Culture, which Alfonzo describes as “a group-level characteristic,” can also affect walking decisions: “a culture’s belief system or set of norms toward walking and exercise may affect the number of needs a person must satisfy before he or she decides to walk” (823). “Members of cultures that stress the importance of walking may require fewer needs than would members of cultures that are more apathetic toward walking or exercise,” Alfonzo writes (823). Sociological variables, “such as societal norms”—how are such norms separate from culture?—and “levels of social support” may moderate the number of needs that have to be satisfied before someone decides to walk (823). In addition, regional-level attributes may act as moderators: “Certain regions may inherently possess conditions that increase an individual’s baseline for walking,” such as places with coastlines or that have temperate climates, which may encourage walking more than inland or frigid climates (823). Alfonzo’s model also delineates outcomes. For instance, “the hierarchy of walking needs, as part of the social-ecological model, also influences both the duration of the walk and type of walking chosen” (823). More needs might need to be met for long walks compared to short walks, she suggests (823). Also, “certain levels of need may be more salient (or necessary) depending on the type of walk or purpose for the walk” (823).
“The social-ecological model of walking presents a dynamic, [causal] model of the decision-making process,” Alfonzo concludes. “Within the model, the hierarchy of walking needs operationalizes and organizes five levels of needs hierarchically and presents them as antecedents within the walking decision-making process” (824). In addition, that model “recognizes the affordances of these five levels of needs (or their perception) as the mediator between the antecedents and the outcome” (824). It also “establishes a person’s life cycle circumstances as moderators between the levels of needs and the outcome variables” (824).
Next, Alfonzo describes the five levels of walking needs in greater detail. Feasibility—“the practicality or viability of a walking trip”—is “the most basic level of need within the hierarchy of walking needs” (824). “For destination trips, feasibility factors may affect the choice between walking and other forms of transportation,” she states, but for strolls, “feasibility factors may affect the choice between taking a walk or not” (824). Regardless of how satisfied someone is with the other levels of the hierarchy, Alfonzo assumes that “if the need for feasibility is not met, then walking will not typically occur” (824). Mobility, time, and other responsibilities are related to feasibility: limited mobility, limited time, or other commitments may reduce feasibility (824).
The next level of need is accessibility: “the pattern, quantity, quality, variety and proximity of activities present, as well as the connectivity between uses” (825). This level of need is about more than just “a simple ratio of retail to residential to office uses” (825). Instead, accessibility factors could include “the presence of sidewalks, paths, trails, or features that provide perceived paths on which to walk”; “actual or perceived barriers to walking,” including physical and psychological barriers to access; and “the number of destinations available within a reasonable walking distance”—although Alfonzo doesn’t believe the destinations question would affect strolling trips, which aren’t tied to specific destinations (826).Neighbourhoods that are close to commercial areas “are associated with the frequency of nonwork destination trips,” she notes, although not with the frequency of strolling trips (827). She suggests that only 10 percent of people are willing to walk half a mile—roughly a kilometre—to a destination (827). For the vast majority of Americans, then, any destination farther away than a 15-minute walk would be considered inaccessible on foot.
Safety is the next level of need. Alfonzo defines safety as safety from the threat of crime (827); for some reason, she doesn’t consider safety from traffic hazards. She believes that safety needs affect strolling more than walking to destinations (827). Graffiti, litter, abandoned or run-down buildings affect perceptions of safety, she suggests, along with some kinds of land uses (bars, liquor stores, and pawnshops) (827). She uses the term “[p]hisical incivilities” to refer to graffiti, litter, vandalism, and poorly maintained buildings, which studies have linked to higher levels of fear of crime (827). Other elements of the urban fabric—the number of street lights, the presence of yard decorations and private plantings, and neighbourhood watch signs—reduce fears of crime (827-28). Narrow streets and stores also reduce fears of crime, while seeing groups of young men hanging around increases it (828). Fear of crime has a strong effect on decisions to walk: “People who felt more afraid in their neighborhoods were significantly less likely to walk than those who felt less afraid,” according to one study” (828).
After safety is comfort, which “refers to a person’s level of ease, convenience, and contentment” (828). “A person’s satisfaction with comfort for walking may be affected by environmental qualities that either facilitate walking or remove factors that might make the walk distressing,” Alfonzo writes (828). Traffic safety—“urban form features that affect the relationship between the pedestrian and motorized traffic”—is part of comfort (828). So are “urban design elements intended to offer protection from unfavorable or extreme weather conditions,” such as canopies and arcades, and amenities such as benches, drinking fountains, and other street furniture (828-29). Traffic-calming strategies increase pedestrian comfort, as do lower traffic volumes and “[s]idewalk comfort,” which might mean sidewalks that aren’t broken or uneven (829). More research on “the actual effects of microscale comfort elements” needs to be done (829).
Finally, pleasurability is the highest need in the hierarchy (829). Pleasurability “refers to the level of appeal that a setting provides with respect to a person’s walking experience” and is “related to how enjoyable and interesting an area is for walking” (829). “Diversity, complexity, liveliness, architectural coherence and scale, and aesthetic appeal may all affect a person’s level of satisfaction with pleasurability,” Alfonzo writes. “Streetscapes, urban design features, architectural elements, and the activity level of a setting may enhance these qualities” (829-30). People prefer to walk in environments they consider pleasurable, something supported by empirical research, and pleasurability can include “diversity or complexity within an environment,” along with “coherence, structural organization,” and a lack of “nuisances” (830). Streets with trees and ground-floor retail are considered pleasurable, as are places that possess a quality of mystery (830). Streets with smaller setbacks—usually older areas of the city—are correlated with more walking, suggesting that large setbacks may be unpleasant for pedestrians because of their effect on people’s perceptions of architectural scale (830). “The relationship between physical and natural environmental attributes and preferences has been researched quite comprehensively,” Alfonzo states, and the pleasurability of those attributes “may be particularly salient both for strolling walking by motivating an otherwise unmotivated person to stroll and destination walking by influencing a person’s decision to walk or drive to a destination” (830).
Of course, Alfonzo acknowledges, all of this presumes that the choice to walk exists. “For destination walking, the choice is between walking and an alternate form of transportation, although for strolling, the choice is between walking and not walking,” but regardless of the kind of walking trip being considered, if there is no choice—if the person must walk—then the hierarchy of needs doesn’t matter (831). “The issue of choice may be particularly salient for children, adolescents, the economically disadvantaged, and the elderly,” she notes, because those groups may have little choice but to walk, even if they feel unsafe or uncomfortable doing so (831).
The question of self-selection bias also exists: do people choose to live in neighbourhoods because they provide “the affordances for them to walk,” or do the characteristics of those neighbourhoods “influence a person’s choice to walk” (831)? “It may be that the hierarchy of walking needs structure comes into play in the selection of one’s neighborhood, rather than every time a person decides whether to walk within his or her neighborhood,” Alfonzo suggests (831).
In her conclusion, Alfonzo contends that the “social-ecological model provided here, along with the hierarchy of walking needs model, provides a framework for understanding how all of these different factors may work together to affect walking behavior” (832). That model “attempts to explain how individual, group, regional, and physical-environmental factors all affect walking at different stages of the behavioral decision-making process” (832). The hierarchy of needs framework “helps to organize existing findings and can suggest fruitful avenues for further research” (832). It can also be useful “in guiding both policy and community interventions,” because measures that address higher-order needs that ignore lower-order needs would not be effective in increasing walking (832). Her model also “underscores the important fact that there is not one universal remedy for increasing walking,” since a variety of “individual, group, regional, and physical-environmental factors come into play” (832). Therefore, it is important for policy makers to “consider their settings and populations carefully and adopt a multilevel approach to program interventions aimed at increasing walking” (832).
The model Alfonzo outlines in this paper is complex, but that complexity is necessary, I think, because decisions about walking are complex. So many factors are involved in those decisions, and Alfonzo attempts to show how they are separate and also connected. As I was reading the article, I found myself wondering whether I could use it to begin analyzing the walkability of the city I live in. That might enable me to consider the presence, or absence, of a culture of walking here. Of course, Alfonzo’s model won’t directly help with that consideration, although I think indirectly it would be possible to argue that places that are walkable because they satisfy all needs in her hierarchy might encourage people to develop habits of walking that might lead to a culture of walking. I’m not sure. I will have to carry on reading on this topic.
Works Cited
Alfonzo, Mariela A. “To Walk or Not to Walk? The Hierarchy of Walking Needs.” Environment and Behavior, vol. 37, no. 6, 2005, pp. 808-836. DOI: 10.1177/0013916504274016.
Mehta, Vikas. “Walkable Streets: Pedestrian Behavior, Perceptions and Attitudes.” Journal of Urbanism, vol. 1, no. 3, 2008, pp. 217-45. DOI: 10.1080/17549170802529480.
Moura, Filipe, Paulo Cambra, and Alexandre B. Gonçalves. “Measuring Walkability for Distinct Pedestrian Groups with a Participatory Assessment Method: A Case Study in Lisbon.” Landscape and Urban Planning, no. 157, 2017, pp. 282-96. DOI:10.1016/j.landurbplan.2016.07.002.
Southworth, Michael. “Designing the Walkable City.” Journal of Urban Planning and Development, vol. 131, no. 4, 2005, pp. 246-57. DOI: 10.1061/(ASCE)0733-9488(2005)131:4(246).
