Randy Clark has gotten a hold of a turn-a-bout momentum, bringing the DC metro into an about-face toward ridership satisfaction. Is there a method to his madness? First, consider the background, from the Washingtonian.
Clarke arrived in Washington at a low point for Metro. In July 2022, the Omicron variant was causing a midsummer spike in Covid cases and DC had one of the highest rates of remote work in the country. Bus and rail trips were still stuck at about half their pre-pandemic levels. The previous October, a relatively new 7000-series train had derailed on the Blue Line in Arlington, leading to a rebuke from the National Transportation Safety Board.
The metro chief was not a train enthusiast from the start. But as he went through school, he became fascinated by how transport touches many other aspects of life. People need to connect with each other and travel the distances to do just that, which gives the service a public flair. This sets up the juggle between the funding flow from governing bodies and the satisfaction of the general population.
There are two sometimes conflicting areas of public-transportation management: (a) politics, or how to obtain funding and craft policy, and (b) operations, or how to make trains and buses run safely and on time. An effective transit leader has to excel at both.
The payer and the end user are disjointed. So how does a manager of such a system tie the money and the product together?
A regular rider, Clarke has a commuter’s perspective on Metro—and an executive’s fluency with how it works. Onboard, he tells me about the relative quietness of the system’s tracks (they use massive lengths of continuous welded rail, so they don’t make the loud click-clack of, for example, the New York City subway) and the stretch of track where trains travel fastest (the tunnel between Rosslyn and Foggy Bottom).
It’s hard to get payers on board when the users are unhappy with the product. Clark dedicates himself to changing that.
When the system is working poorly, Metro can feel dated, even a little sad. But when it’s working well, it’s easy to feel the pride behind its creation. Clarke’s fans credit him with restoring that feeling, and he believes vibes matter. When transit infrastructure is broken and dirty, he says, riders and local politicians get frustrated. They ride less, drive more, and—consciously or unconsciously—devalue the system. By contrast, when trains and buses run frequently and stations feel clean, riders feel more pride and lawmakers believe the system is worth supporting.
Priming the pump to lure riders back to the metro is only one side of the story. The funding side is more complicated for this public good because 1. it has no dedicated funding source, and 2. its ridership draws from Virginia, Maryland and DC. Clark must shake out the individuals who place train transit at the forefront of their priorities. He is looking for the individuals out of the three groups who share this transit goal.
For now, Clarke is riding high, the closest thing to a rock star local transit has ever known. And he’s not changing his hands-on approach. As he rides the rails, he notes any problems he sees: Recently, he pointed out a broken gate to a station manager, and repairs were soon made.
Home Economics 