Transit Agencies Face the New Calculus of Broader Backsides

It was called the “First All-American Tush Tally,” an informal test to measure the behinds of two dozen New Yorkers to see if they could fit into the prescribed space in new subway cars made by Kawasaki.

The seats were about 17 inches wide; the rears ranged between 13 and 23 inches wide. The organizer of the tush tally was Carol Greitzer, then on the City Council. The year was 1984.

The problem of American waists that are too big for seats meant to accommodate them is certainly not new. Today, everything from love seats to toilet seats can be built bigger to accommodate wider profiles, and the seats offered on public transportation are no different.

Each time an agency decides to purchase new trains or buses, it must consider whether to make its seats wider, knowing that a decision to do so could come at the expense of passenger capacity.

New Jersey Transit has a five-year plan to add 100 double-decker train cars that have seats 2.2 inches wider than the 17.55-inch seats found in its single-deck trains; the seating configuration has been changed to two seats on either side of the aisle, rather than three on one side and two on the other.

Amtrak intends to introduce “designs that will be able to accommodate the larger-sized passengers” on 25 new dining cars starting next year, said a spokesman, Cliff Cole.

But while transit agencies consider the needs of heavier passengers, they do not always yield to them.

Over the past half-century, the width of New York City subway seats has not changed much, said Marcia Ely, assistant director of the New York Transit Museum. If anything, the seats have occasionally gotten smaller — and immediately encountered resistance.

Joseph Smith, who retired in 2010 as a New York City Transit senior vice president who also oversaw bus operations in the city and on Long Island, said that the agency once had to abandon plans to introduce Mercedes-Benz Citaro buses, which are popular in Europe, after riders complained about too-narrow seats.

In the early 1980s, a prototype bus made by Hino Motors of Japan and considered for use in New York City was roundly criticized over the width of its seats.

“It was kind of like the Volkswagen with the clowns in the circus,” said Howard H. Roberts Jr., a former president of New York City Transit. “The bus was very quickly taken out of service.”

The subway cars made by Kawasaki, the R-62 model, are still around on the No. 3 line. The bucket seats are still too narrow, Ms. Greitzer noted.

“It’s particularly annoying now when they’re wearing winter clothing,” she said. “People are much bigger and heavier than they used to be.”

The airline industry has also spent years trying to balance passengers’ desire for bigger, more comfortable seating with the bottom-line-driven inclination to squeeze as many seats as possible onto an aircraft.

“It is becoming much more of an issue for transportation, trains, buses,” said Katharine Hunter-Zaworski, director of the National Center for Accessible Transportation at Oregon State University. “You can only make the trains so wide.”

PATH, which generally caters to riders with shorter commutes than those who use the commuter railroads, decided not to change the seat width when it finished replacing its fleet of 340 rail cars last year.

The Metro-North and Long Island railroads are expected to request bids for a new fleet of M-9 train cars next month. In their preliminary proposal, the railroads have asked for double seats that can handle a 400-pound load, but they did not change their seat width.

Cesar Vergara, an industrial designer who worked with Metro-North on its M-8 cars and whose plans will remain the same for the new bid, said the 58-inch-wide three-seaters have middle seats designed to look larger.

“The seats were sewn so that the center part looks a little wider and more appealing,” Mr. Vergara said.

Heavier passengers are also a problem for national agencies creating crash-test standards for trains and buses. While it does not deal directly with width, the Federal Transit Administration has proposed to raise the standard for bus testing to 175 pounds and 1.75 square feet per passenger, from 150 pounds and 1.5 square feet. A committee for American Society of Mechanical Engineers is evaluating its crash-worthiness standard and plans to adopt a new one by April.

“It’s clear that the U.S. population is getting heavier,” said Martin Schroeder, chief engineer for the American Public Transport Association and the committee’s chairman. “We are trying to get our hands on that and figure out what is the best average weight to use.”

Seat width is just one of many things that transit agencies have to factor in when they are purchasing new train cars.

When PATH officials were working on buying their new 340 cars, said Ron Marsico, a spokesman for the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey, they had to consider adding more lumbar support in seats and room for broad-shouldered passengers. The officials also had to grapple with changes unrelated to customer comfort, like removing seats to make room for updated automatic train control equipment and complying with disabilities requirements.

New Jersey Transit decided to make wider seats a priority after hearing from riders, a spokesman, John D’Urso, said. The agency took the request to the manufacturer Bombardier, which had its seat maker, Kustom Seating, build the seats. Bill Luebke, manager of engineering for Kustom Seating, of Bellwood, Ill., said the company designed the seats to be comfortable for riders ranging from a woman in the 5th percentile to a man in the 95th percentile.

Sandra Lee, 39, a slender commuter on New Jersey Transit and PATH, said that the seats on PATH trains were too narrow and that she preferred the seats on New Jersey Transit’s newer double-decker cars because she found them more comfortable, if not wider.

“I happen to be hippy,” Ms. Lee said. “So I take up the width of it.”

On Metro-North, Mr. Vergara said, commuters want lower seats, armrests that do not rip pants pockets, and more legroom.

“You have to meet and absolutely exceed the requirements of the law while keeping people comfortable,” he said.

Still, wider seats would have been appreciated by some, like Jim Cameron, chairman of the state-created Connecticut Metro-North Rail Commuter Council, who said, “Why subject my girth to other people?”

He said he was disappointed with the middle seats that appeared to be wider, even if they were not.

“They are just as uncomfortable as before,” Mr. Cameron said. “Anything they did on the M-8’s to give the illusion of more space cannot deny the physics of time and space.”

Fear of Civil War Mounts in Syria as Crisis Deepens

BEIRUT, Lebanon — The failure of an Arab League mission to stanch violence in Syria, an international community with little leverage and a government as defiant as its opposition is in disarray have left Syria descending into a protracted, chaotic and perhaps unnegotiable conflict.

The opposition speaks less of prospects for the fall of President Bashar al-Assad and more about a civil war that some argue has already begun, with the government losing control over some regions and its authority ebbing in the suburbs of the capital and parts of major cities like Homs and Hama. Even the capital, Damascus, which had remained calm for months, has been carved up with checkpoints and its residents have been frightened by the sounds of gunfire.

The deepening stalemate underlines the extent to which events are slipping out of control. In a town about a half-hour drive from Damascus, the police station was recently burned down and in retaliation electricity and water were cut off, diplomats say. For a time, residents drew water in buckets from a well. Some people are too afraid to drive major highways at night.

In Homs, a city that a Lebanese politician called “the Stalingrad of the Syrian revolution,” reports have grown of sectarian cleansing of once-mixed neighborhoods, where some roads have become borders too dangerous for taxis to cross. In a suggestion that reflected the sense of desperation, the emir of Qatar said in an interview with CBS, an excerpt of which was released Saturday, that Arab troops should intervene in Syria to “stop the killing.”

“There’s absolutely no sign of light,” said a Western diplomat in Damascus, a city once so calm it was called Syria’s Green Zone. “If anything, it’s darker than ever. And I don’t know where it’s going to end. I can’t tell you. I don’t think anyone can.”

The forbidding tableau painted by diplomats, residents, opposition figures and even some government supporters suggests a far more complicated picture than that offered by Mr. Assad, who delivered a 15,000-word speech on Tuesday, declaring, “We will defeat this conspiracy without any doubt.” The next day, he appeared in public for the first time since the uprising began in a Syrian backwater last March.

More telling, perhaps, was the arrival of a Russian ship last week, said to be carrying ammunition and seeming to signal the determination of the government to fight to the end.

“Day by day, Syrians are closer to fighting each other,” said a 30-year-old activist in Arabeen, near the capital, who gave his name as Abdel-Rahman and joined a protest of about 1,000 people there on Friday. “Bashar has divided Syrians into two groups — one with him, one against him — and the coming days will bring more blood into the streets.”

In the other Arab revolts, diplomacy and, in Libya’s case, armed intervention proved crucial in the unfolding of events. Even Bahrain had an international commission whose report on the uprising there was viewed by the United States and some parties in that gulf state as a basis for reform. Syria has emerged as the country where the stalemate inside is mirrored by deadlock abroad.

Syria still counts on the support of Russia and China in the United Nations Security Council. In the Arab world, Syria has allies in Iraq and Algeria, whose foreign minister said Wednesday that Syria “is in the process of making more of an effort.”

But on Sunday, the secretary-general of the United Nations, Ban Ki-moon, urged Mr. Assad to halt the violence against the protesters and said the time of dynasties and one-man rule in the Arab world were coming to an end.

“Today, I say again to President Assad of Syria: Stop the violence. Stop killing your people. The path of repression is a dead end,” news agencies quoted Mr. Ban as saying at a conference in Lebanon on political reform.

Another diplomat in Damascus was fatalistic. “There’s not much more that anyone, at the international level, can do,” he said. “There’s not much more the Arab League can, either.”

Syria’s agreement to allow 165 observers from the Arab League last month to monitor a deal that seemed stillborn even when it was announced — a government pledge to end violence, free prisoners and pull the military from cities — was viewed as one of the last diplomatic tools.

But last week, one of the monitors, an Algerian named Anwar Malek, resigned in disgust, saying the mission had only given Mr. Assad cover to continue the crackdown. Opposition activists say hundreds have died since the monitors arrived.

“Bashar was looking for a shield, and he found it with us,” Mr. Malek said in an interview. “The mission has failed until now. It hasn’t achieved anything.”

He said at least three other monitors were also quitting.

The mission’s leader, Lt. Gen. Muhammad Ahmed al-Dabi, who once ran Sudan’s notorious military intelligence agency, attacked Mr. Malek, saying he stayed in his hotel room rather than doing his job. But Nabil el-Araby, the Arab League’s secretary general, acknowledged where Syria might be headed, with or without the monitors.

“Yes, I fear a civil war, and the events that we see and hear about now could lead to a civil war,” he said in an interview with an Egyptian television station.

He echoed a growing sentiment in many capitals, the potential for Syria’s crisis to intersect with a combustible array of rivalries in the region.

Peter Harling, a Syria analyst with the International Crisis Group, said, “I’ve never seen something quite so ominous take shape in the region in 15 years.”

As with past speeches, Mr. Assad’s address on Tuesday was not meant for the protesters challenging his 11-year rule. His audience, analysts say, was his supporters, who were by many accounts buoyed by his projection of confidence and his suggestion of reform: a constitutional referendum and the prospect of a national unity government.

“They finally grasped it, and this is the first positive sign they’ve shown,” said a 28-year-old Damascus resident, who spoke on the condition of anonymity. He tried to attend the rally on Wednesday but got stuck in traffic. “They’ve now moved from defense to offense.”

Mr. Assad still commands a largely loyal government. Unlike in Libya, defections from within the leadership, or even diplomatic service, have been few — so rare, in fact, that the departure of a mid-ranking cleric from the state’s religious establishment recently was hailed as a victory by the opposition.

For many, the calculus remains much as it did at the beginning of the uprising. Though some soldiers have defected from the military, the more essential security forces, dominated by Mr. Assad’s own Alawite clan, have remained cohesive. Their loyalty, along with support from nervous Christians — who with the Alawites make up more than a fifth of the country — means his fall is not imminent or even likely.

But residents and diplomats speak of the erosion of his authority, often framed as the diminishment of the prestige of the state. Embassies have drastically reduced their staffs, and residents in Damascus speak of a growing anxiety after twin bombings tore through a fortified part of the capital in December.

“There is nothing happening around us, but psychologically, the stress ... I don’t know, it’s hitting home now,” said a 29-year-old bank employee in Damascus who declined to give her name. “The last explosions were really close. It’s very stressful.”

In Homs, beleaguered but still famous for its humor, residents have poked fun at the grimness. A joke these days has a husband bringing home a chicken. He suggests his wife cook it in the oven. But there’s no gas, she tells him. The stove? No electricity, she says. Spared, the chicken declares, “God, Syria, Bashar and no one else!”

Activists admit to a growing vacuum in embattled streets, as the bitterly divided exiled opposition fails to connect with the domestic protest movement.

“They don’t understand the situation on the ground, and they have to be blamed for that,” said Wissam Tarif, an activist with Avaaz, a human rights and advocacy group. He warned about a growing armed presence in Syria, with no leadership. “It’s a very dangerous business. The vacuum will eventually be filled. By whom, we don’t know.”

Another resident in Damascus, where blackouts are becoming more frequent and longer, cast the future starkly.

“Each side is trying to eliminate or belittle the other,” he said. “They both refuse to acknowledge the other side. When you talk to them, they will convince you that, come on already, it’s a done deal, God is with them. God must be torn, I tell you.”