Courtesy call
Can there be courtesy on the T?
The question, equal parts hypothetical and practical, is posed by John Cogliano, not only the state's secretary of transportation, but himself a relentlessly courteous guy. Walking through the cavernous lobby of the Transportation Building one afternoon this week, he casually held doors for others. He called out greetings to what seemed like everyone who passed by. At lunch, he said please and thank you when ordering grilled salmon and rice.
``What I see a lot of on the ride to work is able-bodied people sitting down and, more times than not, not getting up for someone who needs the seat more," he said .
Wait a minute. The state secretary of transportation is taking the MBTA to work? Doesn't he get free parking in that huge Park Square building of his?
``I had to take some parking away from people because of costs, so I figured I wouldn't take up a space," he explained.
Good God, he's the real thing. Anyway, last November, as part of a social experiment, I took a pregnant woman named Michelle on the T for the afternoon, the goal being to see who gave up a seat for her and who did not.
Most people, as I reported at the time, simply stared at their newspapers or books, vacantly gazed around the car, or looked at Michelle but didn't budge. The few who offered seats were typically older people or laborers who looked exhausted from the day's work.
Immediately, e-mails and calls flooded in with tales of T woe. Among them was one from the aforementioned Cogliano, promising to launch the courtesy campaign that I had recommended at the end of the column. This week, over salmon, he (courteously) unveiled it.
It will work in three parts. First, he has printed 10,000 brochures targeted at T employees, titled: ``You are the face of the MBTA. We count on your courtesy." Inside, the brochure urges employees to ``be professional," ``be helpful," ``speak as you'd like to be spoken to," and ``say, `Thank you for riding the T.' "
The brochure will be bolstered by posters displayed in all backroom locations with faces of T employees and messages like, ``Go the extra mile for your customer, and you'll go far."
``The majority of our workers are thoughtful and courteous," he said. ``But it's important to educate the ones who may not be. They work for the public. To assure a high level of ridership, we have to. The public is not going to ride if we're rude."
Part two goes directly at riders, the whole discourteous lot of them. In the next couple of weeks, the T will post 1,000 placards inside rail cars urging passengers to give up seats, to use trash cans, not to smoke on T property, and to quiet cellphone conversations. One poster features a hazy photograph of a seated elderly man tipping his fedora, with the headline, ``Sweep someone off their feet."
The slogan for the whole campaign: ``Courtesy counts."
The third part is the most novel. In November, a reader wrote to suggest that if the T can't appeal to riders' sense of civility, then it should play to their greed. Cogliano agrees, so on an announced day in the next few weeks, undercover T employees will wander the system handing out $2 Dunkin' Donuts gift cards to passengers seen committing random acts of kindness. After that, select employees will hand out gift cards when they see riders offer up seats.
Dunkin' Donuts, Cogliano said, donated 500 gift cards for the campaign. That's certainly commendable, but is it enough? Maybe it was discourteous of me, but I called Dunkin' chief executive Jon Luther yesterday and (politely) asked for more.
``We're about hospitality," Luther replied. ``We're about at-your-service. That's the mindset in our stores. Upping the ante is not a problem; 1,000, 2,000, if we find people committing random acts of kindness, we'll certainly do it. It's time for us to be nice to each other, isn't it?"
It certainly is, but the question remains: Can we?
Brian McGrory is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at mcgrory@globe.com. You can view the T's campaign at boston.com/globe. 