A Country Without Traffic Lights? There's Only 1 Left
The year is 1995, and the Kingdom of Bhutan is about to experiment with something that has never existed in the country: its very first traffic light. But it would be up for just 24 hours before being taken down, never to go up again. In fact, no traffic light has been installed in the Asian nation since then, and it doesn't look like any will any time soon. Bhutan's residents didn't respond well to the experiment — they actually missed the policemen who had been directing traffic in that intersection for years. To them, the traffic lights lacked that personal connection. They were soulless. (At least it wasn't as disastrous as London's first traffic light installation.)
That's a pretty stark contrast to the U.S., where the traffic light could be said to be the official bird of multiple states. If we were to replace traffic lights with police officers, it would just give drivers someone else to curse at. But Bhutan values patience, especially on the road. Not only are traffic lights absent from the entire country, but most intersections don't have stop signs, either. Instead, drivers use common sense to navigate these intersections, and courtesy, too. Yeah, that definitely wouldn't work in the U.S.
Of course, one would expect things to be slower-paced in a country with a population of only 777,000. And they are slower, with average speed limits in the city reaching around 18.6 mph (30 km/h) and go all the up to a roaring 31 mph (50 hm/h) on country roads. But Bhutan's unwillingness to adopt traffic lights has to do with more than just road logistics. It has to do with values deeply ingrained in its culture. Traffic lights just don't fit in.
Why Bhutan has no traffic lights
You may have thought that the title "The Happiest Kingdom on Earth" belonged to a certain mouse-ridden amusement park in Anaheim, California. But, no, it's claimed by the Kingdom of Bhutan, which measures its health using not its Gross National Product, but rather a metric called "Gross National Happiness." This is even a part of its constitution. It's no wonder that in 2015, in response to an extensive survey conducted by the government, 91% of the population described themselves as happy. And they did it without traffic lights, thank you very much. That makes sense. After all, we wouldn't describe the feeling that traffic lights give us as happy.
So it's not that the country is backward technologically speaking, but that it's selective about what technology it allows inside its borders. TV and the internet weren't allowed until 1999, though MTV was banned a few years later for not contributing to national happiness. That makes sense, too. Like with traffic lights, we can't remember a single time MTV has made us happy in the past 40 years.
These kinds of restrictions might seem outrageous to the average American (you'll get our MTV, which we all complain about, when you pry our remote controls from our cold, dead hands). But the Bhutanese think differently. The populace pretty much had be dragged into democracy by their own royal family. As a nation, they have expressed comfort with an authority that prioritizes their happiness. That comfort evidently extends to traffic cops. Because of their sense of connection, as well as human traffic direction's greater flexibility, the Bhutanese decided that traffic lights don't mesh with their national character.
How do they manage traffic in Bhutan?
With no traffic lights, how are you supposed to know when it's your turn to enter an intersection? Well, we mentioned the police officers who direct traffic in several intersections in the capital city, Thimphu. They're impressive sights, stationed in colorful wooden gazebo-style booths, dressed in sharp uniforms and white gloves, directing traffic with rhythmic movements. Each traffic officer takes a week-long training on hand signals and salutation techniques, and works in 30-minute shifts. These traffic officers and stop signs have been sufficient for managing traffic for decades, but traffic has been increasing in Bhutan. To keep up, the country has also started adopting roundabouts, a type of intersection with a growing presence in America, at some of its busier intersections.
The government has also tried to manage traffic in general with slogans. The BBC reports that signs along roadsides carry such anti-speeding witticisms as "Be Mr. Late, not late Mr.," "If you are married, divorce speed," and "Be gentle on my curves." Drunk driving is discouraged by missives like, "After drinking whiskey, driving is risky" and "For safe arriving, no liquor in driving." (Our readers have spotted even goofier signs where they live.)
The government also imposes high taxes on car purchases, and only new cars — not used — can be imported into the country. All of this limits traffic and the need for traffic lights, as well as emissions. In fact, Bhutan is unique in being carbon negative (producing more energy than it uses). Of course, the lack of traffic lights likely contributes to that, as well. There are lots of things that make this little Himalayan kingdom unique, not the least of which is its rejection of traffic lights.
