Part 1:
Where it started


One morning I was on my way to Amsterdam, in a fully packed train during rush hour. I was lucky enough to find a seat, but one station before I had to get out, a woman tapped my shoulder. She was visibly distressed and pointing at her watch, which had a heart monitor. She explained that she has a history of cardiac arrest and needs to sit down. Of course I offered her my seat, but looking behind me I couldn’t help but notice that in that busy train, with people standing up shoulder to shoulder, first class in my wagon still had 6 seats empty. Yet the lady was probably too anxious to sit down and have to justify herself in front of the NS worker at that moment. Perhaps he could’ve been kind and let her sit. I’ve encountered personnel who didn’t make an issue out of this, especially on busy mornings, or at least didn’t fine people and just asked them to move. 


The official NS “House rules” states:

If you have a second class ticket, then you must travel in second class. You may not travel in first class if you have a second class ticket. This includes when the train is crowded, unless the conductor indicates that it is permitted for that specific journey.

The fine for traveling first class with a second class ticket is 20 euros.

Part 2:
Delayed, 
cancelled


Public transport in the Netherlands is not just expensive as a traveler, but it's also susceptible to strikes from the workers' perspective. Rides are overcrowded almost every day and the most obvious reason for this, especially at rush hour (”between 6:30 and 9:00 a.m., and from 4:00 to 6:30 p.m., from Monday to Friday.”) is a delayed or canceled train. This forces people to board the next one or leaves them stranded as they count on punctuality to not miss their transfer. Affected are preponderantly people who commute to Amsterdam or other big cities from neighbouring  towns to go to work or school, very likely to not afford rent within the city borders.

Part 3:
Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box


A train ticket to travel from my home in Wormerveer to Amsterdam Sloterdijk and back is 8.60 euros daily. I pay less than this overall, as I have fixed myself a subscription; 79 euros a month (2024). Yet at least once a week me and plenty of travelers on that route pay a full price ticket just to end up standing up to an hour a day. Even worse, sometimes to not even fit in the train. Meanwhile first class compartments are mostly empty.
Two examples of trains, an Intercity and a Sprinter and their first class capacity, 132, respectively 80 seats. The second class capacity is 466, respectively 458 (that includes the foldable seats). The ratio is around 1 first class seat for every 5.7 second class seats.




Who is even using first class? NS workers? Elderly people able to afford it? People who work for a company that pays this service for them?People who don’t want the maintenance of a personal car? People with disabilities or illnesses that need to ensure themselves a seat? People who want to work during their commute? Clueless tourists who are about to be yelled at?

What would be the consequences of lowering the number of first class seats or even abolishing them? Trains running at higher capacity with less carriages, hence less personnel? Less delays due to more efficient distribution of NS workers? Equal treatment of all users of NS services insofar everyone has the guaranteed seat they paid for?

Part 4:
On time-space

The average Dutch person spends:

  • 21 hours per week on housework
  • 79 hours per week on sleep
  • 11 hours per week eating and drinking
  • 7 hours per week on hygiene and getting dressed
  • 38 hours per week on paid labour 


    Amsterdam, like most world capitals, is undergoing an intense housing crisis. Slowly, yet surely, the movement of the train has come to literally finance domestic life as people move deeper into suburbia and commute longer to their workplace. 

    T he further you have to travel to the place that funds the roof over your head, the less time you have for the invisible labor that must happen before you show up every morning for your paid one. The less you look after your home, your children, your pets, your dishes, your laundry, your teeth, your sleep, your mental health, the less productive and useful you are for your employer. And the cycle continues when the less productive you are, the more time you need to spend working…


    Eating healthy, home cooked meals is a privilege. Sleeping 8 hours a night is a privilege. Raising kids deviceless is a privilege. Money costs time, time costs money and everything inbetween costs both money and time. 

    Part 5:
    Home is where the heart

    stove, iron, toothbrush, nail clipper...is

    Commuting is facilitated by non-spaces. A train for a traveller is supposed to be just a moving seat that bridges the gap between here and there, now and then. It’s meant to give the illusion of seamlessness, of a world where distance has been obliterated and everything is fundamentally connected.

    But in practice, it’s a tiring, trance-like state that ends up inevitably meddling with your day. Leaving a segment of it up in the air. You get home and you’re unable to fully close your laptop for the evening, you reach the office and worry if you remembered to pack your kid’s lunch.
    Both home and work are invading each other, blurring the boundaries of former spaces meant to host them. And the train might just be the most obvious scapegoat for that.


    If you’re also spending more than three quarters of a day on public transport every week, here’s list of tasks to do on your commute to reclaim free time and space where possible:

    • catch up on emails
    • call your parents
    • read the news
    • journal
    • finish your homework
    • write your grocery list
    • deep breath
    • nap
    • do your makeup
      • eat breakfast
      • hang clothes on the occasional hooks next to the window to steam them?
      • complain with fellow travellers
      • repeat

      Part 6:
      Where do we go from here?


      First of all, thank you for getting this far. The material you’ve just read is a theory assignment from my first year studying Architectural Design at the Gerrit Rietveld Academie. We were supposed to engage with an urban design phenomenon and reach the people or institutions involved in it, through a letter.

      My project was initially meant to directly address NS to inquire about their clinging onto first class. Is it just about profit? Is it simply inertia? Is it the most productive way to use space when we’re clearly lacking it during rush hour on most routes? Isn’t it amplifying their personnel crisis? Isn’t it a bit 20th century?



      What I’ve come to conclude is that a reply from NS (if I even receive one) is less important to me than the impact the following collective realisation might have: 

      Commuting has come to hold such tremendous power over so many people’s lives and it’s messing with the little hours we still have left in the day.

      And what better space to start this discussion than NS wagons?

      Of course there’s still so much to explore and perhaps the most relevant question is what could be realistic spacial demands in a situation like this. I stand with both commuters AND NS workers in their right to strike for better wages, hence to disturb the normal functioning of train rides. But my speculations on the present and ultimately future of commuting can only go so far.

      If you have any thoughts, suggestions, contributions, personal experiences, feel free to send them at adailycommuter@outlook.com.

      Until then, I’m wishing you a safe and quick travel!

      Sincerely,
      a daily commuter