Likely Normal

We’re desperate for green transportation, but here’s the brutal truth: every alternative comes with its own brand of outrage. Take the humble horse and carriage—nature’s original zero-emissions vehicle. On paper, it’s perfect: carbon-neutral (if you ignore the methane), self-parking (unless the horse spots a carrot cart), and immune to gas prices (though hay inflation would become breaking news). You could commute like a Jane Austen character, right up until PETA protestors glue themselves to your buggy shouting “This is speciesist oppression!” while your horse side-eyes them for interrupting its 17th snack break of the morning.

Of course, cities aren’t ready for the logistical nightmare. Imagine rush hour with Amish buggies gridlocked beside Teslas, cyclists screaming at draft horses clogging the bike lane, and Uber drivers arguing with carriage operators over who has the right to cut whom off. The manure alone would spawn a new municipal department—Department of Organic Pavement Hazards—staffed by overworked interns armed with pooper-scoopers and existential dread. And let’s not forget the class warfare: soon enough, influencers would be flaunting artisanal, free-range horse transit while the rest of us get stuck riding disgruntled donkeys from the city’s failing Equine Share program.

In the end, there’s no perfect solution. Electric cars rely on sketchy mines, bikes get stolen, and public transit smells like poor life choices. Horses just add animal welfare scandal to the mix. So maybe true sustainability means accepting that we’re doomed either way—and investing in really good walking shoes.