Public transit is a lot of things: an affordable way to get around, a means to reduce congestion, a climate solution.

Another contribution that gets far less billing: Public transit is a crucial tool for making streets safe from death and serious injury in traffic, a danger that is especially (and preventably) high in the United States.

In this country, places with strong, well‑used are much safer, with far fewer people killed or seriously injured on the roads. And the better the public transit service, the safer still.

So it is not just about whether a city has some buses or a rail line. It is about how much transit is available, how often it comes, and how many people actually use it. When transit is frequent, reliable, and woven into daily life, it becomes one of the most powerful traffic‑safety interventions we have.

Below is a primer on how that works.

Transit‑rich places are empirically safer

Across the United States, the safest big cities on the roads tend overwhelmingly to be the ones where people ride transit a lot.

Analyses that combine crash data with transit usage reach the same conclusion again and again. A study in the Journal of Urban Health by Hamidi and Ewing (2020), highlighted by Streetsblog USA, found that cities with a higher share of passenger miles traveled on transit per person had significantly lower traffic fatality rates. The more transit use per capita, the fewer people killed on the roads (Hamidi & Ewing 2020; Anderson 2019).

The U.S. Department of Transportation’s National Roadway Safety Strategy documents note that communities with strong transit and lower per‑capita driving generally see fewer serious crashes (USDOT 2022). And analysis by the American Public Transportation Association (APTA) and Vision Zero Network concludes that public transportation is far safer than private vehicles, both for riders and for people outside the vehicle (APTA & Vision Zero Network 2016). One widely cited synthesis finds that using public transportation is about 10 times safer for commuters than traveling by car, with commuter/intercity rail even safer (Safety+Health 2018; APTA 2018).

On an individual level, travel on buses and trains is much safer per mile than in private cars. Litman’s review of national data finds that the risk of death while traveling by transit is an order of magnitude lower per passenger‑mile than by automobile (Litman 2022). The chance of being killed as a passenger on a bus or train is tiny compared with the chance of being killed in or by a car during an equivalent journey.

The risk of being hit while walking or biking by a transit vehicle is also very low. Transit vehicles account for a large share of passenger miles, but only a small share of pedestrian and cyclist deaths. Federal Transit Administration safety data show that per mile traveled, buses and trains are implicated in far fewer fatal collisions with people walking or biking than cars and light trucks (FTA 2023; Litman 2022).

There is another, less obvious benefit that is profound. In a transit‑rich setting, your chance of being the driver who kills or seriously injures someone else drops sharply. In a car‑dependent system, many drivers will, over a lifetime, be involved in at least one serious crash. When more of your daily trips happen on transit, operated by professionals, your exposure to being that driver shrinks. So does the exposure of the people you love.

When we talk about “transit‑rich” places in this context, we are not just talking about any city that has a bus line or a rail spur. We mean cities and regions where buses, trains, or trams run often, in many directions, for most of the day and week. You do not need to check a timetable. You can trust that service will be there when you show up. Large numbers of people actually use it for work, errands, and daily life.

This is not a binary category. It is a spectrum. The more frequent, widespread, and reliable the service, and the more people who ride, the larger the safety benefits. A peak‑only commuter bus on a few corridors does not move the needle much. A network that offers all‑day, evening, and weekend service across a region does. That is the standard we should have in mind when we say that transit‑rich places are safer.

Professional drivers instead of millions of distracted amateurs

A core safety advantage of public transit is that it replaces many trips by untrained, distracted, or impaired drivers with trips led by professionals.

Distracted driving has become a full‑blown epidemic. NHTSA estimates that more than 3,000 people were killed in distraction‑related crashes in 2022 in the United States (NHTSA 2023). Surveys suggest that most drivers admit to reading or sending texts while driving, and smartphone use behind the wheel has become routine. Touchscreens, apps, and constant notifications mean that everyday car trips often involve split attention.

Transit operators live in a different world. They are subject to commercial licensing standards, intensive training, and regular oversight. They are expected to avoid distractions completely and can lose their jobs for behavior that is routine among private drivers. There is a strong professional culture around staying focused on the road.

Professional drivers also tend to be more conservative and deliberate in their decisions. They learn specific routes deeply, including the tricky merge points and blind corners. They are trained to scan for pedestrians and cyclists, to slow for stale green lights instead of trying to beat them, and to wait for a clear gap before turning left across oncoming traffic. The incentive structure points toward caution rather than saving a few seconds.

Crucially, they are better equipped to handle unusual or dangerous conditions. Ice and snow, sudden storms that cut visibility, flash flooding, smoke, or debris in the road all raise the risk of catastrophic errors. A professional operator has been trained to respond in those moments, knows how the vehicle behaves on slick surfaces, and often has experience driving that same corridor in bad conditions. This reduces risk not just for riders on the transit vehicle, but for everyone around them. A bus operator who handles an icy downhill correctly can prevent a multi‑car pileup behind.

Per passenger mile, bus and rail travel are dramatically safer than driving yourself. That is the combined effect of training, conservative norms, and the simple math of consolidation. One focused, experienced operator moving a full vehicle through an intersection is a safer proposition than dozens of rushed commuters each doing the same thing in separate cars.

If something does go wrong, it is also generally better to be on a transit vehicle than in a small private car. A bus or train has far more mass and structure to absorb energy in a crash. It sits higher, is less likely to be crushed under another vehicle, and gives passengers more crumple zone between them and the impact. Large vehicles also tend to hold the road better on slippery surfaces and are less likely to be blown off course by wind or pushed off the pavement by a minor slide. If a bus or train does become disabled, there is a built‑in system to call for help, coordinate emergency response, and evacuate passengers. You are not stranded alone on a dark roadside with a damaged car and a dying phone battery.

A lifeline for people who should not be driving

Transit also protects people by giving them a way to travel when they are not in good shape to drive.

Many people are never safe drivers. They may have significant vision loss, seizure disorders, cognitive impairments, or physical limitations that make driving very difficult. Others start out safe but become marginal over time as they age. Slower reactions, reduced peripheral vision, difficulty turning and scanning all chip away at their margin for error. Yet many keep driving longer than they would like, because without a car they struggle to reach work, appointments, or even the grocery store (Rosenbloom 2018).

Then there are the temporary conditions that make driving dangerous. Exhaustion after a long shift. Alcohol or drug use. New medications that cause drowsiness. Grief, anger, or anxiety that monopolizes attention. None of this shows up in driver licensing data, but it shows up every day in crash reports.

Where there is frequent, reliable transit at the right times of day, some share of those risky trips is shifted away from the driver’s seat. A bartender who otherwise might drive home after closing can take a late‑night bus. An older adult who avoids night driving can schedule trips by day and use transit the rest of the time. Someone whose license has been suspended can still get to work legally. The more credible and convenient transit is, the more these shifts happen.

Research on alcohol‑related crashes suggests that areas with stronger evening and night transit have lower rates of drunk‑driving fatalities per capita than otherwise similar areas (APTA & Vision Zero Network 2016; Martin & Porter 2018). The logic generalizes. When people have a realistic alternative to driving themselves, some will take it. When they do not, far more will decide to “chance it.”

This is why service quantity and quality matter. A line that runs once an hour and stops at 8 p.m. does not really function as a safety valve. A line that runs every 10 or 15 minutes until midnight or later does.

Fewer miles, fewer chances to crash

Traffic safety is partly about exposure. Every mile that people travel in private cars at speed on public roads presents a chance for something to go wrong. Reducing vehicle miles traveled is one of the most reliable ways to reduce crashes and especially deadly ones.

Transit cuts that exposure in several ways.

First, it directly replaces some car trips. If you ride a bus instead of driving ten miles to work and back, that is ten miles of your own driving taken off the table. Scale that up to thousands of riders over hundreds of days and the avoided risk becomes large.

Second, it consolidates trips. Instead of thirty or forty commuters each navigating a corridor in separate cars, one operator drives a full vehicle. There are simply fewer distinct drivers making lane changes, entering intersections, and reacting to hazards.

Third, over time, strong transit networks reshape cities. Development tends to cluster around frequent lines and stations. That brings homes, jobs, and services closer together. When more needs can be met within a short walk or quick transit ride, people drive less. Trip distances shrink. Speeds come down. That means fewer high‑energy crashes.

Data from around the country show a clear link: regions with lower per‑capita VMT tend to have lower traffic death rates (Ewing & Hamidi 2014; Litman 2022). When transit improvements are strong enough to shift substantial numbers of trips, and when they are paired with supportive land use policies, both fatal crash counts and serious injuries decline. That protects everyone, but it is especially important for young drivers, who have high crash rates per mile, and older adults, who are more fragile in crashes.

Safer streets for everyone, not just riders

Transit investments often come bundled with street changes that make corridors safer for all users.

Dedicated bus lanes or rail corridors usually mean narrower general traffic lanes and clearer separation of movements. Stations and stops bring better crosswalks, curb extensions, raised platforms, and improved lighting. Signals may be retimed to protect people crossing the street and to avoid dangerous turning conflicts. Speeds often come down as drivers adapt to the new layout.

These are classic safety measures. They shorten crossing distances for pedestrians, slow vehicles at the points where conflicts are most likely, and make movements more predictable. They benefit riders getting to transit, but they also make life safer for anyone walking, biking, or driving along the corridor (NACTO 2016).

As more people walk or bike to reach transit, drivers also grow more accustomed to seeing them. Cities respond with better sidewalks, protected bike lanes, and safer intersections in those catchment areas. There is evidence of a “safety in numbers” effect, where the crash risk per person walking or biking falls as their numbers grow (Jacobsen 2003).

There are design challenges to manage. Bus stops on high‑speed roads without good crossings can be dangerous to reach. Conflicts between buses and bikes at stops need careful layout. But when agencies treat transit upgrades as part of a complete‑streets strategy, the result is usually calmer, more forgiving streets.

A controlled setting to focus automation

Transit is also a promising and relatively safe place to apply automated driving technologies.

A lot of attention has gone to private “self‑driving” cars, which would have to handle every kind of street, speed, and situation. That is a hard safety problem. Transit applications are more contained. Low‑speed shuttles, downtown circulators, and campus connectors can run in defined areas on predictable routes. They can be monitored by professionals and integrated with existing control systems (FTA 2020).

In these settings, automation can help maintain safe following distances, consistent speeds, and reliable stopping for pedestrians and red lights. It can be used to extend transit into places or times where it would be too expensive to run full‑size buses with operators, giving more people a safe alternative to driving themselves.

Used this way, automated transit complements human‑operated transit and fits naturally into a safety‑first system.

Transit‑oriented development and inherently safer neighborhoods

Finally, transit and safety are linked through how and where we build.

Transit‑oriented development focuses housing, jobs, and services within an easy walk of frequent lines and stations. The result, when done well, is compact, mixed‑use neighborhoods with slower streets and more daily destinations close by.

These environments are inherently safer. People take more trips on foot, by bike, or by short transit rides, and fewer long, fast car journeys. Local streets are narrower and calmer. Children and older adults can often get around without needing to cross wide, high‑speed roads. More people on the street means more eyes, which can improve personal security as well as traffic safety.

Vision Zero and “safe system” approaches emphasize that the most reliable way to prevent deaths and serious injuries is to reduce the amount of kinetic energy moving through the system. That means fewer high‑speed, long‑distance car trips and more slow, local movement. Transit‑oriented development, supported by frequent service, is a direct investment in that kind of urban form (OECD/ITF 2016; Safe System Consortium 2021).

By contrast, when growth continues in auto‑oriented patterns, every new home, job, or store adds more high‑speed driving to the network. Roads get wider, block lengths get longer, and the consequences of any mistake become more severe. In that context, even well‑intentioned drivers cannot fully outrun the risk built into the system.

Public transit will not fix every safety problem. Street design, vehicle standards, enforcement, and culture all matter. But when we talk honestly about what reduces fatal and serious injury crashes, strong, frequent, well‑used transit belongs near the top of the list.

It replaces millions of risky car trips with safer trips led by professionals. It gives people a viable way to travel when they are too tired, impaired, or frail to drive safely. It backs up automated technology in contexts where it can be deployed most safely. It supports compact, walkable neighborhoods that generate less high‑speed traffic. And by doing all of that, it lowers the odds that any of us will be the next person to cause, suffer, or witness a life‑changing crash.

We should stop treating transit as a side benefit and start naming it for what it is: core safety infrastructure.

Selected references

U.S. Department of Transportation (2025). 2025 National Roadway Safety Strategy Progress Report. U.S. DOT. https://www.transportation.gov/sites/dot.gov/files/2025-01/2025-NRSS-Progress-Report.pdf

National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (2025). Traffic Crash Deaths | Early Estimates Jan–June 2025. U.S. Department of Transportation, NHTSA. https://www.nhtsa.gov/press-releases/nhtsa-reports-sharp-drop-traffic-fatalities-first-half-2025

TRIP (2025). Addressing America’s Traffic Safety Crisis: Examining the Causes and Impact of Rising U.S. Traffic Fatalities. TRIP. https://tripnet.org/reports/addressing-americas-traffic-safety-crisis-report-july-2025/

Federal Transit Administration (2024). National Public Transportation Safety Plan. U.S. Department of Transportation, Federal Transit Administration. https://www.transit.dot.gov/sites/fta.dot.gov/files/2024-04/National-Public-Transportation-Safety-Plan.pdf

U.S. Department of Transportation (2024). National Roadway Safety Strategy: 2024 Progress Report. U.S. DOT. https://www.transportation.gov/NRSS

National Safety Council (2023). Motor Vehicle Deaths in 2023: Preliminary Estimates. National Safety Council. https://www.nsc.org/news-resources/injury-facts/motor-vehicle

National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (2023). Distracted Driving 2022 (Traffic Safety Facts Research Note). U.S. Department of Transportation, NHTSA. https://crashstats.nhtsa.dot.gov/Api/Public/ViewPublication/813533

Federal Transit Administration (2023). Transit Safety and Security Statistics. U.S. Department of Transportation, Federal Transit Administration. https://www.transit.dot.gov/nts

Litman, T. (2022). Safer Than You Think! Revising the Transit Safety Narrative. Victoria Transport Policy Institute. https://www.vtpi.org/safer.pdf

Safe System Consortium (2021). The Safe System Approach for the United States. Johns Hopkins Center for Injury Research and Policy. https://www.jhsph.edu/centers-and-institutes/johns-hopkins-center-for-injury-research-and-policy/publications-resources/the-safe-system-approach-for-the-united-states

Federal Transit Administration (2020). Strategic Transit Automation Research (STAR) Plan. U.S. Department of Transportation, Federal Transit Administration. https://www.transit.dot.gov/research-innovation/strategic-transit-automation-research-star-plan

Hamidi, S., & Ewing, R. (2020). Is sprawl killing us? Journal of Urban Health. https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s11524-020-00439-6

Anderson, M. (2019). Public transit is a safety tool as well as a climate solution. Scientific American / Sightline Institute. https://www.sightline.org/2019/10/24/public-transit-is-a-safety-tool-as-well-as-a-climate-solution

Rosenbloom, S. (2018). The transportation needs of older adults. Public Policy & Aging Report. (Illustrative citation for aging/older adults and mobility safety.)

American Public Transportation Association (2018). Public Transportation Is 10 Times Safer Than Auto Travel. American Public Transportation Association. https://www.apta.com/news-publications/press-releases/public-transportation-is-10-times-safer-than-auto-travel

Safety+Health Magazine (2018). Public transportation is 10 times safer for commuters, analysis shows. Safety+Health Magazine. https://www.safetyandhealthmagazine.com/articles/16727-public-transportation-is-10-times-safer-for-commuters-analysis-shows

OECD/International Transport Forum (2016). Zero Road Deaths and Serious Injuries: Leading a Paradigm Shift in Road Safety. OECD Publishing. https://www.itf-oecd.org/zero-road-deaths

NACTO (2016). Transit Street Design Guide. National Association of City Transportation Officials. https://nacto.org/publication/transit-street-design-guide

American Public Transportation Association & Vision Zero Network (2016). Public Transportation: A Safer Way to Travel. American Public Transportation Association. https://www.apta.com/research-technical-resources/reports/public-transportation-a-safer-way-to-travel

Ewing, R., & Hamidi, S. (2014). Measuring Urban Sprawl and Validating Sprawl Measures. National Cancer Institute; Smart Growth America. https://www.smartgrowthamerica.org/app/legacy/documents/measuring-sprawl-2014.pdf

Jacobsen, P. L. (2003). Safety in numbers: More walkers and bicyclists, safer walking and bicycling. Injury Prevention. https://injuryprevention.bmj.com/content/9/3/205

Most places in the United States are built around the assumption that we will drive for nearly everything.

That design choice does not just shape how we move. It shapes our health, finances, relationships, and fundamental physical freedom.

Outside of a handful of expensive neighborhoods in a few cities, the prospect of not driving often pushes people to the margins.

And the number of people affected is significant. Around a third of Americans don’t have a driver’s license, according to the U.S. Department of Transportation. This includes young people, people with disabilities and other conditions that prevent them from driving, and people who can’t afford to drive.

On top of that is a large group of people who do drive, but shouldn’t be expected to rely on it. Among U.S. adults 65 and over, about 81% still hold a license and drive. In surveys, 68% of these older drivers say they avoid driving under certain conditions—at night, in bad weather, or over long distances—because they do not feel fully safe or comfortable. That group alone is roughly 9–10% of the entire U.S. population. They clearly drive, but for the good of all of us shouldn’t be forced to rely on driving as their primary way to meet daily needs. And this doesn’t even include younger drivers with significant vision, cognitive, or health issues that make driving risky or stressful.

Then there is the spectrum of people who are financially burdened by what is, in practice, a requirement to own and drive a car to fully take part in society.

Around 8–10% of Americans live in households with no vehicle at all, often because they simply cannot afford one. Among those who do own cars, transportation is the second‑largest household expense in the U.S., and it consumes a particularly large share of income for low‑ and moderate‑income households. Using conservative assumptions, at least a quarter to a third of the population is either unable to afford a car or is under significant financial strain from car dependence—including many who are technically “managing,” but at the cost of reduced savings and long‑term wealth.

What follows are some of the groups who are carrying the stressors and burdens of car dependence. Taken together, they account for roughly 45 to 65 percent of the population—about 150 to 200 million people—whose lives are measurably harder, more constrained, or more expensive because the system assumes near‑universal car access.

1. Children and teens

There are about 74 million people under 18 in the US and roughly 23 million aged 18 to 24. Together that is close to 30 percent of the population (about 100 million people). The majority live in car‑centric suburbs or low‑density areas where walking or biking is either unsafe, unpleasant, or simply not feasible.

Car‑centric design becomes a direct source of stress and constraint in several ways.

For children, wide fast roads, missing sidewalks, and long distances mean that independent mobility is rare. Parents are often unwilling to let kids walk or bike to school or parks because traffic is dangerous and crossings are not designed for small, slow pedestrians. This leaves many children stuck indoors or dependent on adults for every trip. The cost is not just physical inactivity. It is also loneliness and boredom in environments where friends and destinations are technically “nearby” but practically unreachable without a car.

This loss of independence also has developmental consequences. Research on children’s independent mobility shows that as car use has increased, children have lost opportunities to develop road skills, spatial awareness, decision‑making, and confidence in navigating their environments. Earlier generations often walked or biked to school, played in streets, and roamed their neighborhoods. Today’s children are much more likely to be chauffeured, supervised, and confined to indoor or highly controlled spaces.

These shifts tie into broader concerns about an “anxious generation.” When children have fewer chances to take manageable risks, to practice autonomy, and to move through the world without constant adult oversight, it can contribute to higher anxiety, less resilience, and weaker social networks. Automobile‑centric planning has normalized car dependence even for very short trips and has helped erode the conditions that once allowed children to claim some part of the public realm as their own.

For teenagers and young adults, the situation is different but still stressful. In many metro areas a driver’s license and a car are the only realistic way to access jobs, extracurricular activities, or social life. Those who cannot afford a car, cannot get a license, or are not comfortable driving often find themselves excluded from opportunities that their driving peers can easily reach. That can mean taking long, complex transit trips where service exists, or simply staying home.

How many are actually burdened? The details vary by region, but you can conservatively say that at least half of US children and teens face real constraints on their freedom and social life due to car‑centric design. That is on the order of 15 percent of Americans (about 50 million people) who are not just “living in car‑oriented places” but are measurably more isolated, less active, or more dependent on adults because of it.

2. Older adults and seniors

There are around 60 million people aged 65 and older in the US, which is roughly 18 percent of the population. Many live in neighborhoods that were designed for drivers in their prime working years, not for people whose vision, mobility, or reaction times may have declined.

Here, car centrism produces a very specific kind of stress. As long as older adults can drive safely, they can often manage, though congestion, distance, and parking can be tiring. But once driving becomes difficult or unsafe, the entire structure of car‑centric life becomes a barrier.

The decline in driving comfort is usually gradual. Many older adults start by avoiding driving at night because of vision issues or glare. Then they may begin to avoid highways or fast arterials, or certain complex intersections. Busy parking lots, with tight spaces and lots of pedestrian and vehicle movement, can become intimidating. Over time, seniors may restrict their travel radius, delay or skip certain trips, or depend more on family members for rides.

In low‑density, auto‑oriented suburbs and exurbs, basic needs like groceries, pharmacies, and medical care may be several miles away along hostile roads. Sidewalks are often missing or incomplete. Crossings are long and poorly timed. Transit, if it exists, may be infrequent and not well connected. For an older adult who gives up driving, this can mean a sudden loss of independence and a sharp rise in loneliness and logistical stress.

At the same time, seniors who continue to drive despite growing discomfort or impairment can pose risks to themselves and others. Slower reaction times, reduced peripheral vision, and confusion in complex traffic environments can lead to crashes. Families and caregivers then face painful conversations about “taking away the keys,” often in communities where there are no good alternatives. Adult children may feel torn between safety concerns and fears of plunging a parent into isolation. Seniors themselves may cling to driving longer than they would in a less car‑dependent environment, precisely because giving it up can mean losing access to basic needs and social contacts.

If you focus specifically on those who are substantially stressed or constrained by this arrangement, a cautious estimate would be that between one quarter and one half of US seniors are meaningfully burdened by car‑centric design. That is likely in the range of 5 to 9 percent of Americans (about 15 to 30 million people) whose daily lives are either riskier or more isolated than they would be in a less car‑dependent system.

3. People with disabilities

Around 42 to 45 million US adults report some form of disability, which is roughly 13 to 14 percent of the population. Many more live with chronic conditions that affect mobility, stamina, or cognition. For a substantial share of these people, driving is difficult, unsafe, or impossible.

In a car‑centric system, that does not simply mean “it is a bit harder to get around.” It often means the world is structured as if you do not exist. Sidewalks may be missing or broken. Curb ramps and accessible crossings may be incomplete. Bus stops can be placed on narrow shoulders of fast roads without safe ways to reach them. Paratransit services, where offered, may require advance scheduling, long waits, and unpredictable travel times.

The stress here is twofold. There is the practical stress of arranging every trip in advance, relying on others, and worrying about missed appointments or being stranded. There is also the emotional stress of lost autonomy and social isolation when spontaneous movement is impossible in an environment that caters almost entirely to drivers.

Even if not all disabled people experience these barriers to the same degree, it is reasonable to estimate that at least one third to one half of disabled adults are significantly stressed or constrained by car‑centric design. That is on the order of 5 to 7 percent of Americans (about 15 to 25 million people). In many cases their lives would be dramatically easier in places where daily necessities can be reached on foot, by wheelchair, or via frequent and accessible transit.

4. People and households with lower incomes

About 38 million people in the US live below the official poverty line, around 11 percent of the population, and many tens of millions more hover just above it. For these households, the combination of car dependence and low income is not an inconvenience. It is a continuous source of financial and emotional stress.

In a car‑centric system, most jobs, schools, and services are reachable only by car or by very time‑consuming transit. That means people feel compelled to own vehicles even when they can barely afford them. The cost of purchase, fuel, insurance, and repairs can consume a huge share of income. When something goes wrong with the car, people risk missing work, losing jobs, or facing eviction and food insecurity.

This is not theoretical. In many surveys, low‑income workers describe vehicles as both essential and fragile lifelines. Every breakdown is a crisis. Gas price spikes translate into real trade‑offs between driving to work and paying other bills. People may take on predatory loans to buy or fix cars, trapping them in cycles of debt.

Those who cannot afford a car at all face the stress of long, unreliable trips by bus or on foot in environments not built for pedestrians. Jobs that look accessible on a map become unreachable in practice. That can intensify a sense of exclusion and hopelessness.

If you include people below the poverty line and those near it who are regularly forced into painful trade‑offs because of the cost and fragility of car dependence, you are almost certainly looking at 18 to 24 percent of Americans (about 60 to 80 million people) carrying ongoing financial and time stress directly rooted in car‑centric planning.

5. Caregivers, especially women

Women make up about 52 percent of the US population. Tens of millions of adults, across genders but disproportionately women, are primary or co‑primary caregivers for children, aging parents, or other dependents. Surveys consistently show that mothers and women in general perform more of the day‑to‑day “logistics work” of family life: school runs, medical appointments, grocery trips, and other errands.

In a car‑dependent landscape, that logistics work translates directly into driving stress. Instead of walking to school or combining several close‑by errands on foot, caregivers often manage long trip chains by car. They are trying to hit multiple distant destinations, each with specific time windows, while navigating congestion, parking, and the constant risk of delay.

This creates time stress, because everything depends on traffic and the availability of parking. It creates cognitive stress, because caregivers must orchestrate complex schedules in a system where there are few fail‑safes if something goes wrong. It also creates safety stress, since caregivers may be forced to drive tired, rushed, or in bad conditions because there is simply no other way to meet obligations.

Car‑centric design also makes it hard for dependents to handle their own travel. Children cannot safely walk or bike. Older adults may not have transit. Disabled family members may not have accessible options. All of that extra driving and coordination falls back on caregivers.

If you focus on people for whom this adds significant daily or weekly stress, it is quite plausible that around 10 to 15 percent of Americans (about 30 to 50 million people), predominantly women, are substantively burdened by the way car‑centric design turns caregiving into a constant driving and scheduling challenge.

6. Racially marginalized communities

Roughly 40 percent of the US population identifies as a racial or ethnic minority, which is about 130 million people. Car‑centric planning does not affect all of these communities in the same way, but a long history of discriminatory siting of highways, zoning, and transit investment has created patterns in which people of color often bear more of the costs and fewer of the benefits.

Highways are more likely to run through or alongside Black and brown neighborhoods. That means more exposure to air pollution, noise, and dangerous traffic. At the same time, those neighborhoods may receive weaker transit service, with slower, less frequent buses and longer travel times to jobs and schools. This combination creates both health stress and time stress.

Car ownership rates are high across all races, but income disparities mean that many households of color are more financially vulnerable to car costs and breakdowns. In some regions, aggressive policing of traffic violations in communities of color adds legal and psychological stress to everyday driving.

Because racial identity intersects with income, disability, caregiving, and other factors, it is difficult to isolate a single number. But it is realistic to say that tens of millions of people in racially marginalized communities experience a heavier burden from car‑centric planning than more advantaged groups: more time spent commuting, more exposure to traffic pollution, more risk in both driving and walking environments.

Even if only one third of the roughly 40 percent of Americans in racial and ethnic minority groups are significantly stressed or disadvantaged by these patterns, that would still be on the order of 13 percent of Americans (about 40 million people).

7. People without stable housing or documentation

On a given night, more than 650,000 people in the US are unhoused, which is about 0.2 percent of the population, and several million more move in and out of homelessness over time. There are also millions of undocumented immigrants and others who, because of immigration status, prior legal issues, or finances, cannot easily obtain or maintain a driver’s license.

In a car‑centric system, these groups are not just “inconvenienced.” They are often locked into daily survival conditions shaped by the lack of safe, affordable mobility. Shelters, clinics, food banks, and social services may be scattered over wide areas that cannot be covered on foot. Walking along high‑speed roads is dangerous and stigmatizing. Transit may not align with service hours or may not reach key locations at all.

Undocumented people in states that tightly control access to driver’s licenses face the stress of choosing between driving illegally, with the attendant fear of traffic stops and serious legal consequences, or staying trapped in a small physical radius that limits access to work, education, and health care.

Numerically these groups are smaller than some others, but the intensity of stress tied to car‑centric design is extremely high. It is fair to say that for a large share of unhoused people and a substantial share of undocumented residents in car‑dependent regions, transportation design is an everyday source of risk, anxiety, and constraint.

8. Workers with long or stressful car commutes

There are roughly 165 million workers in the US, about half the total population. Around 130 to 140 million commute primarily by car. Many have short or tolerable drives, but tens of millions endure lengthy or highly congested commutes that are a direct byproduct of car‑oriented land use and highway‑led planning.

The stress here is not subtle. Long car commutes eat into sleep, family time, and social life. They make it hard to care for children or elders, maintain friendships, or pursue education in the evenings. People often feel trapped by rising housing costs near jobs and the lack of alternatives to driving. When traffic worsens, there is rarely a good backup plan.

Research links long car commutes to higher levels of reported stress, worse mental health, less exercise, and weaker community ties. These are not just correlations with distance. They are experiences of daily frustration and fatigue in environments designed around moving vehicles rather than reducing the need to travel far.

If you focus on those whose commutes are long or consistently congested enough to cause noticeable stress, a conservative estimate might be that one quarter to one third of car commuters are significantly burdened. That amounts to roughly 10 to 15 percent of Americans (about 30 to 50 million people) who pay a daily mental and physical price for the way jobs and housing have been separated in a car‑first system.

Putting the burdens into perspective

Across these groups, the numbers overlap, but the pattern is clear. Large segments of the US population are not simply “users of a car‑centric system.” They are stressed by it.

All in all, probably half to two thirds of Americans experience meaningful stress or burden tied to car‑centric planning. That is about 45 to 65 percent of the population (roughly 150 to 200 million people) whose lives would be measurably less stressful if the built environment supported shorter distances, safer walking and rolling, and reliable alternatives to driving.

The level and type of stress from car‑centric design vary across the US, depending on how places are built, where they are located, and how they are changing over time.

More urban vs more rural and suburban

In dense urban neighborhoods with mixed land uses, people often have more options. Shorter distances make walking, biking, or transit more viable. That tends to reduce some forms of car‑related stress, especially for non‑drivers, children, and older adults. However, even in cities, if streets are dominated by fast traffic and poorly designed crossings, walking and biking can still feel dangerous and stressful.

In car‑oriented suburbs and exurbs, the stress is often highest. Long blocks, wide arterials, and separated land uses mean driving is the only realistic choice for most trips. Children cannot safely go anywhere alone. Parents become full‑time chauffeurs. Older adults and disabled people who cannot drive are strongly isolated. Time and money pressures increase for low‑income households that must maintain cars just to function.

In rural areas, distances between destinations are even longer, and formal transit is often minimal or nonexistent. For those who can drive and afford it, this may be a manageable inconvenience. For people who cannot drive because of age, disability, or immigration status, it can be an almost total barrier. That intensifies both social isolation and anxiety about what happens when health or finances change.

Regional differences

Historically older regions in the Northeast and parts of the Midwest have legacy transit systems and compact pre‑war neighborhoods. These can mitigate stress for some groups, especially where walking and transit are still viable. But postwar suburban belts around these cities are heavily car‑dependent, and many jobs have shifted to edge locations, spreading commute stress and making low‑income workers more vulnerable.

In fast‑growing Sunbelt metros across the South and West, many neighborhoods and job centers were built almost entirely during the automobile era. Low densities and wide highways create environments where non‑car options are minimal. Here, the share of the population who must drive for nearly every trip is very high, and the pool of people stressed by congestion and car costs is correspondingly large.

Climate and weather magnify burdens too. In hot regions with little shade or safe walking routes, even short trips can feel punishing or dangerous, especially for children, older adults, and people with health conditions. In cold or wet climates, missing sidewalks and uncleared paths further discourage non‑car travel.

Trends and future directions

Several trends are likely to increase or shift the stresses described above.

The US population is aging. More people will reach a point where they should reduce or stop driving while still living in car‑dependent suburbs. Without changes to land use and transportation, the number of older adults who feel trapped or pressured to drive beyond their comfort will grow.

Younger adults across many surveys say they value walkability and transit access. Some cities are responding with new transit investments, bike networks, and zoning reforms that allow more housing near jobs and services. These changes can gradually reduce car‑related stress, especially for people who choose or need to live car‑light lives.

At the same time, there is still large‑scale development at metropolitan fringes in traditional auto‑oriented patterns. Transit funding is inconsistent and often politically vulnerable. New services like ride‑hailing can offer temporary relief for some, but they do not fix the underlying distances and land use patterns that make car dependence stressful in the first place.

In short, the US has built a system in which comfort, safety, and opportunity are easiest to achieve if you can drive easily, afford a car, and live where distances are manageable. Hundreds of millions of people do not fully meet those conditions. For them, car‑centric planning does not just define how they move. It defines what they can do, who they can see, and how stressed they feel on a daily basis.

References

American Public Health Association (2022). Creating Walkable and Bikeable Communities: The Health Case for Active Transportation. American Public Health Association. https://www.apha.org

Frohlich, K. L. et al. (2024). Children’s right to the city and their independent mobility. Journal of Epidemiology & Community Health. https://jech.bmj.com/content/78/1/66

Hillman, M., Adams, J., & Whitelegg, J. (1990). One False Move: A Study of Children’s Independent Mobility. Policy Studies Institute. https://research-repository.st-andrews.ac.uk/handle/10023/21844

Joint Center for Housing Studies (2023). The State of the Nation’s Housing. Harvard University. https://www.jchs.harvard.edu/state-nations-housing-2023

National Center for Health Statistics (2023). Disability and Health Data System. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. https://www.cdc.gov/ncbddd/disabilityandhealth/dhds/index.html

National Household Travel Survey (2022). Summary of Travel Trends. Federal Highway Administration. https://nhts.ornl.gov

Pew Research Center (2023). What Public Transit Users and Non‑Users Think. Pew Research Center. https://www.pewresearch.org/social-trends/2023/06/22/what-public-transit-users-and-non-users-think

Twenge, J. (2024). Generations: The Real Differences Between Gen Z, Millennials, Gen X, Boomers, and Silents. Atria Books. https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Generations/Jean-M-Twenge/9781982181612

United States Census Bureau (2023). American Community Survey 1‑Year Estimates. U.S. Census Bureau. https://www.census.gov/programs-surveys/acs

United States Department of Transportation (2023). Transportation Statistics Annual Report. Bureau of Transportation Statistics. https://www.bts.gov

After more than a hundred years of engineering breakthroughs and industrial refinement, you might expect the cost of getting around by car to have dropped. Factories are vastly more efficient. Supply chains are global. Vehicles are safer, more reliable, and more comfortable than anything on the road in 1925.

Yet for the typical American household, the car has become more expensive. It has swollen as a proportion of income and expenses, while splitting into many different bills.

Add in commuting time and high rates of dangerous crashes and the costs swell further.

Cars have also become harder to say no to—cars have gone from one option among many to something most people cannot realistically opt out of.

In sum, compared to the early days of mass motoring, the typical American household is carrying a larger, riskier, and more compulsory transportation burden.

Then And Now: What Cars Really Cost

1. The Cost Of A Car

In the 1920s, a basic mass‑market car was a big purchase, but not an all‑consuming one. A Ford Model T near the end of its run cost a substantial share of the average annual wage, but households usually bought a single, modest vehicle. It was simple, small, and often the only car they owned. Once you counted fuel and maintenance, the yearly cost was real but limited.

Today the picture is very different. Sticker prices are far higher in dollars, but the deeper change is how much of a household’s financial life now runs through its vehicles. A typical new car or truck can easily come close to the size of a full year’s median income. Even used cars have risen sharply in real, inflation‑adjusted terms, especially if you want something safe and reliable.

At the same time, many households now keep two or three vehicles. Even if one bare‑bones car were still somewhat affordable, the total capital tied up in multiple, larger, and more complex vehicles is far greater than it was in the early auto age. When you look at annual costs, adjusted for inflation, the weight is clear. Loan payments, insurance, fuel, maintenance, registration, parking, and fees can easily consume a large share of income. For many families, transportation takes a similar bite out of the budget as it did decades ago, and in some cases a bigger one. A century of technical progress has not made the total yearly cost of owning and using cars melt away. It has simply become more intricate and more deeply built into the household budget.

2. Debt, Negative Equity, And Financial Stress

The way we finance cars has also changed. In the early days of mass motoring, time payments were new, and they were relatively short. Buyers typically made a sizable down payment, then finished paying within a year or two. There was still the risk of missed payments and repossession, but the period of debt was short, and the remaining balance usually did not outrun the car’s falling value.

Modern car loans tell another story. Terms of five, six, or seven years are common. Down payments are often small. The vehicle loses value quickly in the first few years, yet the loan balance falls only slowly. Many borrowers find themselves owing more than the car is worth. When they trade in, the leftover debt does not disappear. It is rolled into the next loan. In this way, yesterday’s shortfall becomes part of the cost of today’s car. For some drivers, this pattern repeats across several vehicles.

These long, large loans create payments that crowd the rest of life. Once you add insurance and fuel, it is easy for car expenses to rival or even exceed housing costs for lower‑income families. That leaves very little room for error. A job loss, an illness, or a surprise bill can trigger missed payments. Repossession then threatens not just a piece of property but the ability to reach work or school at all.

In this climate, the car is no longer just a tool that happens to be financed. It is a long‑term obligation wrapped tightly around a family’s stability. Negative equity and stretched loans make it normal to be underwater on an asset that remains essential to earning an income. That degree of ongoing financial strain was far less common in the early years of car ownership.

3. Who Gets Stranded, And How

Cars were never universal in the 1920s, yet more people could function without one. Many cities and towns had streetcars, interurban trains, and local rail. Walking distances to jobs, schools, and stores were often shorter. A household might not own a car, but still have many ways to reach daily destinations.

Today, the transport system is built on a different assumption. It expects almost every adult to drive. This leaves several groups exposed.

Young people often cannot easily reach work, school, and social life without a car, even if they are not yet able to afford one or do not have a full license. Older adults who begin to age out of safe driving often do not automatically gain access to robust transit or walkable environments. Instead, they can lose independence and become effectively housebound in car‑oriented suburbs.

People with disabilities who cannot drive safely are often forced to rely on limited paratransit, costly ride‑hailing, or favors from family and friends. Lower‑income households face a similar problem from a different angle. They live in places that require driving, but can least afford to keep a car running. A mechanical failure or a lapsed insurance policy can abruptly cut them off from work, childcare, and food.

In many parts of the country a century ago, it was possible to live and work in the same town, walk more of your daily needs, or use a mix of trains and streetcars. Today, in much of the United States, not having a car means being stranded. Human abilities have not changed. The built system has.

From Choice To Dependence

When cars first spread, they entered a world filled with other ways to move. Urban areas had streetcars and trams. Towns and nearby cities were linked by interurban rail. Many neighborhoods mixed homes, shops, and small workplaces in short walking distance of each other. Cars offered new flexibility and speed and competed with these systems.

Over the following decades, government policy and private investment tipped the scales. Streetcar networks were removed or neglected. Bus systems replaced rail in many places, but often with lower frequency and reliability. Highways cut through urban neighborhoods and made it easier to live farther from the center. Planning rules separated homes from workplaces and stores and favored low density, drive‑in designs. Many new suburbs were laid out from the start around large roads, driveways, and parking lots, with few sidewalks and little or no transit.

The result is not just that more people like to drive. It is that many now have very little power not to drive. Even people who would gladly give up a second car, or even their only car, often cannot make that choice without uprooting their lives. Their workplace is not served by transit. Basic errands are miles away along high‑speed roads. Safe bike routes are missing. Sidewalks end suddenly.

Over time the menu of real options shrank. Where earlier generations could choose between several modes, modern households in most of the country face an almost all‑or‑nothing choice. Either they own and operate one or more cars, or they accept a level of constraint and isolation that is hard to square with normal daily life. A century of engineering progress has coincided with a quiet loss of transportation bargaining power for ordinary people.

Housing And Transportation: A Tightening Knot

Transportation costs do not stand alone. They are woven into where people can live and how far they must travel.

Zoning that separates housing from jobs and shops, mandatory parking rules, and decades of highway construction have worked together to stretch cities outward. New homes have often been built farther from major employment centers. At the same time, parking spaces, garages, and driveways became standard features of residential construction. That land and concrete are not free. They push up the cost of housing, even if the burden is not listed as a separate line item.

Households respond to this geography by driving more. When work, school, and daily errands are scattered across a wide area, it becomes harder to get by with one shared car or with a combination of walking and transit. People buy additional vehicles, and they accept longer commutes. Transportation costs rise, but they are treated as an unavoidable side effect of getting “more space” or “cheaper housing.”

Ironically, the push for cheaper housing often drives people to locations where transportation is both more necessary and more expensive. A home on the outer edge of a metropolitan area may offer a lower monthly mortgage or rent. Yet the savings can be offset by the need for two cars instead of one, longer daily drives, and higher spending on fuel and maintenance. Meanwhile, the home itself is more expensive to build and maintain than it appears, because it quietly includes land and structures dedicated to car storage.

This creates a feedback loop. Housing near jobs and transit grows scarce and costly. People who cannot afford it move farther out. Their transportation costs grow, which in turn makes it harder to save or move closer in later. The whole system ends up pushing housing and transportation costs upward together.

In a more flexible environment, people could choose to live close to work, pay more for housing, and spend less on transportation, or live farther away, accept more commuting time, but save enough overall to make the tradeoff worthwhile. Today that choice is often constrained. Walkable, transit‑served neighborhoods are limited and heavily bid up. Car‑dependent areas are plentiful and more affordable up front, but carry ongoing transportation costs that households cannot easily escape.

As a result, many people are not just traveling farther than they would prefer. They are also less able to live in the kind of places they actually want. The layout of housing and transportation channels them into patterns that maximize driving and car ownership, with little room for genuine preference.

Why Cars Feel More Expensive, Even As They Improve

Measured purely by features, modern vehicles are remarkable. They are more comfortable, more durable, and far more convenient than the cars of 1925. Many luxuries of the past are now standard. There has been real progress.

Yet if we ask whether ordinary households have been freed from the financial weight of everyday travel, the answer is still no. Even as manufacturing has become more efficient, several forces have kept mobility costly.

Direct costs remain high once you account for the number and size of vehicles per household and the total annual bills, even after adjusting for inflation. The spread of long loans and small down payments has made debt and negative equity a normal part of car ownership, leaving many drivers financially stressed and often owing more than their car is worth. The dominance of driving has left people who are too young, too old, disabled, or too poor to drive stranded or heavily dependent on others. The loss of robust alternatives has turned cars from a choice into a requirement for most people. And the way we build housing has tied the cost of shelter and the cost of transportation tightly together, pushing people to live farther from the places they want to be and to travel longer distances just to maintain ordinary routines.

In principle, a century of industrial and engineering gains could have made basic mobility cheap, flexible, and optional. In practice, those gains have helped build larger vehicles, extend profit‑rich financing, and sustain a landscape that quietly expects nearly everyone to keep buying and fueling cars for life. The car has not truly become cheaper in the ways that matter to everyday families. Instead, its price has been redistributed, buried in monthly payments, folded into rents and mortgages that pay for parking, and measured in hours behind the wheel that people must give up simply because there is no realistic alternative.

People tend to separate housing from transportation when they budget. From a savings standpoint, they are one decision about where you live and how you get around.

The cost of place is the combined monthly cost to keep a roof over your head and to reach work, school, groceries, friends, and care. Tools like the H+T Index were created to make that combined cost visible.

A lower rent or mortgage on the edge of town can raise the cost of place. Longer trips mean more fuel, more maintenance, higher insurance, more parking, and often one more car. A higher rent in a location efficient neighborhood can lower the cost of place if it lets you own fewer cars and make shorter trips.

A simple example is one household that pays $2,200 for rent and $150 for transit or occasional rides, compared with another that pays &1,700 for housing but $900 to $1,200 for two cars. The second household looks cheaper on paper until you add transportation.

What it means for households

Shop for the combined monthly number, not just the rent or mortgage. List expected car ownership and use, parking, insurance, fuel, maintenance, and any transit or rideshare spending.

Compare neighborhoods on that total. Test scenarios that trade one car for a monthly transit pass, carshare, or e bike.

Consider the value of time. Shorter trips and fewer car errands can free hours each week and lower stress.

When viewing homes, look for daily needs within a short walk or a single transit ride and ask about unbundled parking so you do not pay for spaces you do not use.

What it means for cities and policymakers

Cities can drive up the cost of place when land use rules push homes far from jobs and daily needs and when streets and parking policy make car travel the only viable option.

Minimum lot sizes, bans on apartments and missing middle housing, strict height caps, setbacks that force low density, and lengthy approval processes suppress homes in town where transportation costs are lower.

Parking minimums raise building costs and spread destinations apart.

Single-use zoning separates homes from shops and schools which lengthens trips and locks in car dependency.

Inadequate transit that fails to provide a realistically useful way to get around.

Street designs that prioritize fast through traffic over safe walking, biking, and transit add to those costs.

To lower the cost of place, allow more homes near jobs, schools, parks, and frequent transit.

Legalize duplexes, triplexes, courtyard apartments, and accessory dwelling units. M

Upzone near transit and main streets and permit mixed use buildings so errands are close. Replace parking minimums with context sensitive maximums, unbundle parking from rent, and price curb parking so spaces turn over.

Invest in reliable buses and trains, dedicated bus lanes, safe bike networks, and safer crossings so fewer households need multiple cars. Encourage transit oriented development on public and private land. Speed approvals for projects that add homes in location efficient areas.

Align school and public facility siting with walkable and transit served locations.

Use inclusionary tools and land value capture carefully so they add homes where access is best without stalling production.

Consider demand management like employer transit benefits and cash out for parking.

These actions reduce both the need to drive and the number of vehicles per household which lowers monthly costs.

Bottom line

The cheapest address is not always the most affordable once you add the cost to get around. Treat housing and transportation as one decision and aim for a lower cost of place.

References

Center for Neighborhood Technology (n.d.). H+T Affordability Index. Center for Neighborhood Technology. https://htaindex.cnt.org/
U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development and U.S. Department of Transportation (n.d.). Location Affordability Index. HUD and DOT. https://www.locationaffordability.info/
AAA (2024). Your Driving Costs. AAA. https://newsroom.aaa.com/auto/your-driving-costs/
U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics (2024). Consumer Expenditures. U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics. https://www.bls.gov/cex/
Ewing, R., and Cervero, R. (2010). Travel and the Built Environment. Journal of the American Planning Association. https://doi.org/10.1080/01944361003766766
Litman, T. (2024). Transportation Affordability. Victoria Transport Policy Institute. https://www.vtpi.org/affordability.pdf
U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (2013). Location Efficiency and Housing Choice. U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. https://www.epa.gov/smartgrowth/location-efficiency-and-housing-choice
Harvard Joint Center for Housing Studies (2024). The State of the Nation’s Housing 2024. Harvard Joint Center for Housing Studies. https://www.jchs.harvard.edu/research-areas/reports/state-nations-housing-2024

Most people think of their cars as working for them. They imagine convenience, freedom, maybe even status.

But for many American households, especially those with an unnecessary extra car, that second or third vehicle quietly burns through enough money to take away real long‑term wealth.

If you want a surprisingly powerful path toward $1 million, start by exploring whether you really need every car in your driveway.

The hidden cost of owning a car

Owning a car or more per adult is normal. Monthly payments are normal. Gas, insurance, repairs, registration, parking, and random fees are normal.

But “normal” is expensive.

According to data from the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, the average American household spends around $12,000 per year on transportation, and the largest portion of that is personal vehicles, including the cost of the car itself, insurance, fuel, maintenance, and repairs (U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2024). That’s about $1,000 a month, per household, tied up in keeping cars on the road.

In many two‑ or three‑car households, one of those vehicles is barely essential. It’s a convenience. A backup. A “just in case.” That “just in case” can be the difference between coasting financially and becoming a millionaire over time.

What if you invested your car money instead?

Let’s say you find a way to live with one fewer car. You sell it, cancel the insurance, stop paying to fuel and maintain it, and you redirect that $1,000 a month into an investment account instead.

Now invest that $1,000 per month consistently for 25 years and earn an average annual return of 8 percent (compounded monthly for simplicity):. What you get:

$946,000

So getting rid of an unnecessary extra car and investing the savings could put you within striking distance of one million dollars over 25 years.

Not by being a brilliant entrepreneur, taking big risks, or by winning the lottery. Just by not owning a vehicle you don’t truly need and investing what you would have spent on it.

But do I really “spend” that much on my car?

Many people underestimate what a car costs because they only think about the monthly payment.

Here’s what usually gets missed:

• The payment (if you have a loan or lease)
• Insurance premiums
• Gas
• Routine maintenance (oil changes, tires, brakes, etc.)
• Unexpected repairs
• Registration and taxes
• Parking, tolls, tickets

The American Automobile Association (AAA) regularly estimates that the annual cost to own and operate a new vehicle is in the five‑figure range when you add all of those pieces together (American Automobile Association, 2023). If you’re driving something newer or higher‑end, or you live in a high‑cost city, your real number may be even higher.

If your “extra” car is financed, the financial drag is even worse: you’re paying interest on a depreciating asset that’s losing value every year.

The lifestyle tradeoffs that make this possible

Dropping from two cars to one (or from three to two) isn’t always painless. It usually requires some mix of adjusting commuting patterns, occasionally using rideshare or car‑share, carpooling with coworkers, friends, or family, and/or planning errands and appointments more rigorously.

It may involve getting a bike, ebike, and/or using the bus more. And it all might be easier or harder depending on where you live.

But notice something important: even if you sometimes use taxis, rideshare, or short‑term rentals, that doesn’t come close to the full cost of owning, insuring, and maintaining an extra vehicle for the entire year. The all‑in ownership cost is what quietly kills your wealth.

Some families find that rethinking where they live is part of the equation: moving a bit closer to work, transit, or schools can lower or eliminate the need for that extra car, and also reduce stress and commute time.

This isn’t just about deprivation. It’s about thinking more strategically about transportation for a lot more long‑term freedom.

Why 25 years matters more than you think

Twenty‑five years sounds like forever, but it isn’t. It’s the difference between being 30 and 55, or 40 and 65. Those years are going to pass no matter what. The question is whether each of those months brings you a step closer to financial independence, or just another oil change and insurance bill.

The power is compound growth. When your $1,000 goes into an investment account earning around 8 percent per year on average, your contributions start earning returns, then those returns start earning returns. Over time, your growth accelerates, especially in the later years.

That’s why the decision to drop an unnecessary car early in your financial life can be so powerful. The longer your money has to grow, the more dramatic the result.

Your mileage may vary

This millionaire math uses round numbers to make the point clear. Real life is messier.

The example assumes you save and invest $1,000 per month for 25 years at an 8 percent annual return and end up with around $946,000. With a few more years of investing, you would likely cross the $1 million mark.

You can also adjust the levers: maybe you can only free up $500 per month, or maybe you can redirect $1,500. Maybe your average return is 6 percent instead of 8, or you hit a long stretch of strong markets and do better. None of these inputs are guaranteed; they are tools to help you visualize what’s possible.

You might look at $12,000 per year and think, “I don’t spend that much on my car.” That could be true. But it could also be an underestimate. Many people only think about the payment and gas, and forget insurance, registration, maintenance, and repairs. On the other hand, you might be spending much more. In recent years, many buyers have taken on large loans at high interest rates, often on vehicles that depreciate faster than the loan balance is paid down. That leaves them “underwater,” owing more than the car is worth, and feeling stuck. In those cases, the true annual cost can be well above that $12,000 benchmark.

You might also be in a situation where you can’t offload a car easily. Maybe you need it for work. Maybe the resale value is too low compared with what you owe. Maybe your family’s logistics feel impossible with fewer vehicles. That is all real. But there is usually still room to move somewhere on the spectrum. You might not be able to sell a car today, but you might be able to:

• Decide that your next car will be one you can afford in cash, not with a high‑interest loan
• Refinance an expensive loan if possible
• Drive less, combine trips, or carpool to reduce fuel and wear‑and‑tear
• Use transit or biking for some trips and delay buying an additional vehicle
• Set a firm cap on how much of your income will go to transportation

The point is not that every person should immediately dump a car and invest $1,000 a month. It is that cars are one of the biggest and most unexamined expenses in modern life, and we often underestimate how much they cost and how much wealth they displace.

So treat this article as a guide and a thought experiment, not a strict prescription. It is meant to highlight just how much money flows into vehicles, how strongly we are nudged to spend on them, and how powerful it can be if you create even partial alternatives. Whether that means going from three cars to two, stretching the life of a paid‑off car, avoiding a luxury upgrade, or planning to buy your next car in cash, small shifts away from automatic car spending can be surprisingly profitable over the long run.

How to know if an extra car is really “unnecessary”

Ask yourself:

Could we realistically coordinate schedules with one fewer car most days?

Are we keeping a vehicle mostly for rare situations (worst‑case scenarios vs daily needs)?

How many days per month does this car actually get used?

Would occasional rentals, rideshare, or car‑share be cheaper than owning this vehicle year‑round?

Can we move—or think differently about a future move already planned?

If a car is driven infrequently, mostly for convenience, or simply because “we’ve always had two cars,” that’s a signal. It may be less a tool and more a habit.

The mental shift: from car pride to good-decisions pride

Cars are visible status symbols. Investments are invisible. That makes it easy to prioritize the wrong thing.

When you reduce the number of cars you own, it might not show on Instagram. But it shows up quietly in your balance sheet.

Over years and decades, it can be the difference between consistently feeling stretched and building a substantial investment portfolio that supports you and your family

Think of every nonessential car payment as a missed investment deposit. When you flip that around, you’re not “giving up” a car. You’re buying long‑term freedom.

Twenty‑five years from now, you might look back at your old driveway and realize that the best “vehicle” you ever owned was not a car at all, but your investment account.

References

American Automobile Association (2023) tor. Your Driving Costs: How Much Are You Really Paying to Drive? https://www.aaa.com/autorepair/articles/your-driving-costs

U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics (2024) tor. Consumer Expenditures in 2023. https://www.bls.gov/news.release/cesan.nr0.htm