Who’s supposed to turn on the heaters at cta stations?

Chicagoans are familiar with the season of transit heaters — giant heating lamps that sit above a designated area during the six months of winter that occur every year in the Midwest. In order to access the heat, one must press a button, a single button on one side of the shelter, which turns on the heat lamps for approximately ten minutes. Once that time is up, the lamps switch off and here begins a problem.

During my time in Chicago, I have often wondered who truly becomes responsible for activating the heat lamps at each CTA stop. In my mind, this unspoken moral code is the one thing that binds us through unbearable winters — yet some feel as though they are exempt from the obligations of our urban microcosm.

In a perfect, more equitable society, the person closest to the button is responsible for the warmth of all. They have chosen their place under the shelter, and with that comes a simple task. But sometimes, a human leech assumes this position, and foregoes their responsibilities to the group huddled beneath the shelter. With such negligent disruption, who then is responsible for the warmth of the group? Surely this person is no less cold than the rest. Perhaps their needs are sufficiently met — and if this is true, what a dire choice.

Sometimes, in the worst of cases, the person furthest away from the button takes leadership of the group, steps out of their corner of comfort and starts the lamps for the others. While this appears to be an act of bravery, this person does not yet deserve our respect — they are acting solely out of self interest, as every option to stay warm has been exhausted and it is now up to this person to fend for themselves. They waited, patiently, for another individual to address the problem, and if it were not for the lack of layers on their body, they would not have dared to activate the lamps.

I can sense it almost immediately when a new person joins the little shelter on the transit platform: everybody analyzes their proximity to the lamp button, and with it the appropriate response when the lamp eventually dies. There is no one who should be exempt from this responsibility.

You might wonder if any of this is worth the concern or energy it takes to document such grave cultural circumstances. In my mind, it’s always worth the concern, because I’m lazy and don’t want to get up to turn that damn heater on.