Transportation issues in Santiago

I’ve been in Santiago (Chile) twice in the last couple of months, first in early July then in late August. I had been to Santiago only two times previously, in 2002 and 2015.

On my latest trips, I was, as always, particularly interested in taking a look at recent developments in non-automotive transportation.

Santiago provides a distinctive case in that Chile comes as close as any major country in South America to being “developed.” Chile has the highest per capita income in Spanish- or Portuguese-speaking South America. Its GNI per capita in 2022 was $28,550 according to the World Bank.¹ There are numerous other indicators of Chile’s relatively high level of development. It was the first South American country to be admitted to the OECD. There is apparently less corruption and much less violent crime in Chile than in most other South American countries.² Also, you can (usually) drink the water. And—an important index of “development” to the writer of this blog—Chilean drivers (at least in central Santiago) seem to be more deferential to pedestrians than those of any other South American country. They can be counted on to stop for those on foot when making turns. They even respect crosswalks.

It needs to be said though that Chile’s income, while impressive for South America, isn’t enormously high on a world scale. Chile’s GNI per capita is a little lower than Bulgaria’s or Malaysia’s.³ Chile’s governments thus have some ability to improve infrastructure and to deal with environmental problems—but not as much as in wealthier countries. Chile is also, like all Latin American countries, an exceptionally unequal place. Chile’s Gini coefficient is something like 45, lower than the Gini coefficients of Brazil (53!) or Panama (51) but above those of most countries in North America and Western Europe.⁴ Chile’s citizens are very conscious of the country’s inequality and have sometimes objected strongly to government policies that seemed likely to exacerbate it. Violent protests against a small increase in Metro fares in 2019 resulted in several deaths and an enormous amount of destruction. Governments have learned that they must monitor public opinion carefully.

Santiago’s geography has also had a major effect on transportation policy there. The urban area is surrounded by mountains. Air pollution generated in the region does not get blown away; it accumulates. Santiago probably has the worst air quality of any major city in South America. It’s likely that most of the pollution is generated by gas-powered vehicles. Santiaguinos (as residents of the urban area are called) have been conscious of the problem since at least the 1960s.

Air pollution—and traffic jams—were major factors in the decision to begin building a metro in the 1960s. The first line opened in 1975. The rubber-tired trains run along the Alameda—Santiago’s major east-road­—and its eastern extensions, the Avenidas Providencia and Apoquindo. This route goes from a relatively poor area on its southwest end to a much more prosperous zone in the northeast. It serves the city’s central railroad station, the government center around La Moneda, the old Centro, the city’s symbolic center around the Plaza Italia, and the new office, retailing, and residential node in Providencia. The line attracted numerous riders from the day of its opening.

It was soon clear, however, that there was a need for new lines, and the government responded by setting in motion a construction program that has been nearly continuous over the last 48 years, especially in the decades since democracy was reestablished in 1990.⁵ There are now seven lines (including two that are driverless). In addition, two short extensions are under construction, and a completely new line is being built. Two additional lines are planned. Santiago’s Metro is now the longest by far in South America,⁶ and it’s won a great deal of praise, including a 2012 award as the best metro system in the Western Hemisphere.

Even the most comprehensive metro systems need to be supplemented by surface transit of some sort (usually buses). Santiago’s successful and reasonably modern Metro coexisted for many decades with the far less popular micro system of privately run buses built mostly on truck bodies. During the era of the Pinochet government and for many years afterward, there was essentially no regulation of micros. Fares were high; there were frequent accidents; and vehicles were typically highly polluting. The system had few defenders. Jaime Lizama, in a series of highly regarded (if eccentric) essays on the modern historical geography of Santiago, writes at length of the daily humiliation faced by users of the micros.⁷

Early in the current century, the government decided to create a modern, “world-class” bus system, called Transantiago.⁸  Its rolling stock was to consist of modern buses that would pollute the air less than micros. Routes were completely replanned; an elaborate system of separate trunk and feeder routes was created. One of Transantiago’s  goals was to turn as many bus lines as possible into feeders for the (much less polluting) Metro. Fares were to be paid by smartcards (called Bip! cards) that would offer free or very cheap transfers between buses and between buses and the Metro. Transantiago was instituted in February 2007. It was by all accounts something of a disaster. One government minister called it the “worst public policy ever implemented” in Chile.  One problem was that there simply weren’t enough of the new buses. Another was that so many passengers were being asked to start making trips that included a transfer for the first time; this added enormously to the wait time experienced on every trip. In the years since 2007, Transantiago has apparently come to work much more smoothly, but the name “Transantiago” is still often invoked as an example of a poor-quality government policy. The system is now called the Red Metropolitana de Movilidad (“metropolitan mobility network”). It employs few of the separate lanes and prepaid stations along freeways that have made the BRT lines in Bogotá and Lima so successful, but it does incorporate special bus lanes on some urban streets plus prepaid areas at certain bus stops.

To an outsider, it appears that Santiago now has a reasonably good public-transit system. Given the city’s size, the Metro system is excellent, although it can be extraordinarily crowded during the long rush hours. Fares—usually less than a U.S. dollar a trip, depending on the time of day and the exchange rate—are reasonable for a middle-income country and cover most operational costs. The public-transit system has been providing an impressive six million rides a day (more than half on buses) in an urban area with a population of something like six and a half million.

As is the case with many of the world’s cities, however, Santiago’s transportation policies are inherently contradictory. Government officials have been attempting to convince people to drive less (or not at all), but, responding to public demand and insisting that Santiago needs a “modern transportation system,” they’ve also been unable to resist spending huge sums on automobile infrastructure. Santiago’s system of limited-access highways, for example, was built at more or less the same time as its enormous effort to improve public transportation. The major north-south highway, now called the Autopista Central, was started as long ago as the 1960s but completed in 2004. The Autopista Costanera Norte, which runs between the Airport and Chile’s well-off northeastern neighborhoods, was mostly built in the 21st century and opened in 2005.

Some of the limited-access portions of the Américo Vespucio ring road were also inaugurated in the first decade of the 21st century (much of this road is still an ordinary urban arterial). Building an elaborate limited-access highway system, of course, would seem to undermine the goal of reducing automobile use. The problem was that Santiaguinos kept acquiring automobiles. There are now supposed to be more than two million motor vehicles in the Santiago area. Traffic jams are common. Air quality remains a problem. As is the case with just about every other urban area in the world, no one is quite sure how to cut automobile use down enough to make a real difference. There’s also the issue of whether public opinion would support radical moves in this direction. Chile’s reasonably democratic government is certainly in no position to prevent or even seriously discourage automobile ownership.

At least it can be said that Santiago does not have the American problem of scarce pedestrian life.

Santiago’s central well-off neighborhoods are generally congenial places for pedestrians. Between, roughly, the Estación Central on the west and the upper-class neighborhoods of Providencia, Las Condes, and even Vitacura in the northeast (a distance of approximately 10 km) there is a substantial area of moderately dense housing and active commercial life where walking is common. This area also extends north across the Mapocho River into Bellavista and south into such neighborhoods as Parque Almagro and Ñuñoa. The pedestrian-friendly sections of Santiago are (roughly speaking) the parts of the city that had been built up by the end of World War II. There are sidewalks almost everywhere. Drivers are not surprised by the presence of pedestrians. There appears to be a reasonable assurance of safety at most times. In the old Centro and, to an even larger extent, in parts of Providencia, sidewalks are crowded all day. As in other big Latin American cities, the commercial parts of the most prosperous neighborhoods are generally the most “vibrant.” They certainly aren’t car-free, but they have a substantial number of pedestrians until late in the evening.

Government has supported pedestrian life by pedestrianizing several streets—Paseo Ahumada, Paseo Estado, and Calle Huérfanos—in the old Centro during the 1980s. Several shorter streets in the Centro have been pedestrianized in the years since. There is a consensus that this change helped the area. The Centro still doesn’t quite have the prestige of northeastern Santiago, but the pedestrianized streets—as well as other downtown streets—are full of people most hours of the day and early evening, and the majority of shops along them seem to be prospering.

Several streets have also been pedestrianized in the nearby government area.

Pedestrians—and cyclists—have also been favored in the Parque Metropolitano (Parquemet) that adjoins Bellavista north of the Mapocho River. This park’s busiest area is centered on Cerro San Cristóbal, which rises approximately 300 m above the surrounding plain. The park, which continues northeast for more than 8 km, was established early in the 20th century. It includes roads that were at one time busy with traffic, but, in recent years, private cars have been banned on the most important park roads, which have been turned over to pedestrians, cyclists, and essential park traffic (the latter includes a bus line). On weekend afternoons, even bicycles are forbidden. I found the park roads, which take approximately 5 km to reach the summit with a slope averaging something like 5 or 6%, a wonderful place for walking, and many others seem to agree. The sheer number of people who walk, run, and bicycle on these roads, especially on weekends, is pretty impressive.

Those who want help in reaching the summit of Cerro San Cristóbal have a choice among the Park’s bus line, an old funicular railroad, and a newer aerial tramway.

There are also pedestrian facilities along the Mapocho River. There’s a complicated story here. Santiago is where it is in part because the Mapocho provided early settlers with water. The Mapocho, however, is nothing like the wide, navigable rivers on which many European and American cities were built. The river enters eastern Santiago as a mountain stream and falls more than 300 m during its roughly 40-km route through the urban area. It has an extremely irregular flow. It’s practically dry for much of the year, but, after winter rains and spring melts, it becomes a major torrent. As a result, Santiago suffered an enormous amount of flood damage on several occasions during its first three centuries. The settlers learned their lesson, and land next to the river was often used for recreation in the early settlement.⁹ Late in the 19th century, the Mapocho was “channelized.” The river was moved to a deep trench, approximately 25 m wide and 5 m deep (although this varies a great deal).

Thanks to channelization, flooding has become rare. But some of the unbuilt-on land along the river (especially on its south bank) was kept as parkland. The Parque Forestal is the largest example of an early-20th-century park.

Early in the 21st century, Sandra Iturriaga del Campo, a professor of architecture at the Pontifical University, proposed building a 42-km cycling and pedestrian path along the Mapocho, starting in the extreme northeast, in Barnichea, where the river comes out of the mountains, and extending all the way to Pudahuel, on the western periphery of the city. The distance chosen—the length of a marathon–was not an accident. Iturriaga has said that the project was dreamed up first by students in a class, but it’s she who has been most responsible for publicizing the idea, in journal articles,¹⁰ websites, and a wonderfully illustrated book.¹¹ The project caught the imagination of a great many people. As is the case with many of the world’s most successful pedestrian and bicycling facilities, Mapocho 42K potentially gives its users privileged access to a distinctive local landscape feature that they could visit in no other way. Professor Iturriaga’s campaign to construct Mapocho 42K is a model of how a private citizen in a democratic state can change the landscape by energetic lobbying. It’s comparable in many ways to Ryan Gravel’s role in inspiring and lobbying for the Atlanta Beltline.

Mapocho 42K has only been built in part, and, in many cases, what’s been built is not as idyllic as the illustrations in Professor Iturriaga’s book. Several sections northeast of Providencia illustrate the problem. They have newly paved separate lanes for pedestrians and bicycles marked by the Mapocho 42K branding. They feature views of the river and of the northeast extension of San Cristóbal Park. But there’s also a major arterial right next to the path, and there’s a huge amount of noise from the Autopista Costanera Norte across the river.

From Providencia down toward the old Centro, Mapocho 42K follows the narrow parks that had been built along the river for the most part early in the 20th century. The bicycle path is paved, but it’s right next to a major arterial—usually Avenida Andrés Bello—and there are frequent stoplights. There’s also a mostly unpaved pedestrian path.

There are also places where the path disappears completely or becomes, essentially, a bus stop. Where this happens, there’s sometimes parkland (Parque Forestal, for example) across the street. To an outsider, this part of Mapocho 42K doesn’t always seem very attractive, but there are still a fair number of users.¹²

Northwest of the old Centro, however, just north of the restored Mapocho Station, the path enters a series of parks along the river, some of which—the Parque de la Familia, for example—are brand new, others of which (to the west and northwest) are still under construction. These parks are being built and maintained under the label Parque Mapocho Río by the urban-area park department, the Parque Metropolitano (Parquemet), that also runs the park that includes Cerro San Cristóbal. The parks are generally wide enough so that the Mapocho 42K trails are not right next to parallel highways. There are sometimes wonderful city and park views, framed by glimpses of the high Andes to the east and of the Mapocho on the north. I was surprised when I was there, however, at how little visited these new or newish parks were. On weekdays, hardly anyone was using the Mapocho 42K trails in the Parque de la Familia. Perhaps there’s a clue in the fact that one of the few people with whom I was sharing the trail warned me that it was unsafe in this area to take out an expensive-looking camera. I don’t know how seriously I should have taken the warning, but there’s no getting around the fact that, as one goes downstream along the Mapocho from the Centro (or, actually, from Providencia), the adjacent neighborhoods generally become poorer and perhaps less secure.

Very little of the proposed western, more or less rural, part of Mapocho 42K seems to have been built.

It’s easy to imagine that a more complete Mapocho 42K would attract more users and become safer. A busier Mapocho 42K would also feel less like a sidewalk in those places where it runs right next to a highway. Progress in building Mapocho 42K has thus far been rather slow,¹³ but, as noted elsewhere on this blog, it’s pretty common for pedestrian and cycling infrastructure to get built only over several decades. The chief reason for this is that it’s rarely a high priority for governments. There is also the issue that existing landscape features often get in the way. Pedestrians and cyclists can usually get around these, but no one would argue that this is ideal.

Santiago has also built numerous protected bicycle lanes over the last few decades. That’s what the long lines on the above map along major roads mostly are. I can’t claim that any of the protected lanes I saw were particularly crowded with cyclists, but there are users.

Like many other Latin American cities, Santiago holds a weekly event, the Ciclorecreovía, on Sunday between 0900 and 1400 during the course of which many streets are closed to automobile traffic. In some Latin American cities—Bogotá, São Paolo, and Brasília, for example—the Sunday ciclovía attracts mostly pedestrians and is something of a street festival, but the Santiago event (like that in Panama City, for example) is mostly for people on bicycles, of whom there are many thousands. A few skaters and runners also participate, but there’s little space for walkers—except along the adjacent sidewalks.

The high level of participation the Ciclorecreovía—along with the enormous number of people hiking up the Cerro San Cristóbal on weekends and perhaps the large number of pedestrians throughout central Santiago—jibe with the results of a recent survey in which the level of physical activity in different countries was compared on the basis of cellphone data.¹⁴ Chileans on average engaged in as much physical activity as Western Europeans. They were more physically active than most other Latin Americans, and way more so than Americans, but less physically active than Russians and Ukrainians, and people from China and Japan.

To sum up, over the last several decades, Santiago, despite its limited resources, has created a pretty good system of public transport and a substantial amount of infrastructure for pedestrians and cyclists. There are still more cars on the city’s roads than can comfortably be accommodated, but it can’t really be argued that a majority of the population would prefer that automobile use be discouraged more assiduously. Santiago, in other words, has the same dilemma that most of the Western world’s other urban areas face.