I’m more than willing to be corrected on whether vehicular cycling, as a movement, is welcoming of infrastructure.

The issue with saying “vehicular cyclists are not opposed to cycling infrastructure” is that the most vocal figures in that movement have given us ample evidence, through their own writings, that they are opposed to it. Frankly, if I were writing a research paper or legal brief defending the statement “vehicular cyclists are, by definition, opposed to cycling infrastructure,” I could hardly do better than citing the works of John Forester and others. Add in a handful of news articles about vehicular cyclists opposing infrastructure proposals, plus public records showing their written objections to decision-makers, and I think most readers would agree that a strong case can be made.

Now, if I’m wrong, it should be easy to find writings from vehicular cyclists supporting cycling infrastructure. I’m not asking for a full-throated endorsement by any means. Just something like:

1. “This design is bad, here is a better version,” or
2. An acknowledgement that Dutch-style separated networks achieve higher mode share and better safety outcomes, and that we might learn something from that.

I’m open to seeing those examples. I’ll wait.

Regarding critiques: it’s interesting that you cited John Allen’s older site and not his current John S. Allen’s Bicycle Blog. His most recent post (Oct. 23, 2025) critiques bike boxes. And to be fair, I agree that the American implementation of bike boxes is often terrible. But his post simply declares them unworkable; it doesn’t offer a constructive alternative. A genuine critique would include corrections or improvements. For instance, he could reference the Oslo Street Design Manual (free in English), which draws on CROW and explains how they implement bike boxes vs. the examples he cites. he could directly reference pages 95–98 that outline constraints and proper design, and page 99 shows an alternative treatment.

That’s the difference: pointing out flaws isn’t the same as offering solutions. And too often, vehicular cycling critiques stop at the former without ever attempting the latter.
My view comes partly from others’ descriptions and partly from my own reactions to his work. Most of the people who have issues with him seem to be in the Boston area. And by “disagreeable,” I’m referring to how he expresses his viewpoints. Writers at Streetsblog have mentioned this, and Sarah Goodyear name-checked him on a podcast as a classic “mansplainy” figure. A few years ago, when I was doing volunteer discussions with NEMBA, one member who was active in both mountain biking and infrastructure advocacy, described him as a particularly stubborn opponent of bike infrastructure who often came across as “Listen up, little Missy.”

I can’t remember whether I first heard about him from that NEMBA conversation or a podcast, but I do remember Googling afterward. The first article I found was one mocking Dutch cyclists (“Dutch bike handling skills”), and his reply to the woman in the comments struck me as exactly the sort of interaction that felt disagreeable. It also seemed to have the tone that Sarah Goodyear mentioned. The post is still up by the way.

For the record, a person can be great in some contexts and not great in others. I’ve never met John Allen, he might be wonderful in person. His written articles are generally professional, even if he approaches everything from what I would call an abolitionist stance toward dedicated cycling infrastructure. But there are clearly people who’ve had very negative personal interactions with him. And when I read some of the exchanges on his own site, I can understand why.
On the “human Frogger” phrase, yes, that’s a rhetorical flourish, but it ties into the larger point. The core mantra of vehicular cycling is: “Cyclists fare best when they act and are treated as drivers of vehicles.” Everything else rests on that foundation. But that foundation assumes cyclists must adapt their behavior to infrastructure that wasn’t built for them. In other words, the cyclist must change to fit the constraints of the system, rather than the system being changed to fit the needs and patterns of cyclists, pedestrians, and drivers alike. That’s fundamentally different from an approach that says, “Let’s design infrastructure around how each group actually uses the space.”

And when it comes to dismissing the success of places that have designed around those realities (Dutch cities, northern Europe, modern Paris) there’s no shortage of aversion in vehicular cycling writings. Their own texts provide ample evidence of that.
It’s great that your own interactions have been positive and respectful. But it’s also worth considering that others, outside the specific circles you’ve experienced, may have had very different encounters. And it’s not just interpersonal issues. The writings and guidance produced by prominent vehicular cycling advocates often get amplified locally in ways that can be genuinely harmful.

Picture a small Midwestern town trying to put together a bike plan that follows state requirements. Then a “get off my lawn” type discovers a vehicular cycling website or emails one of its champions and receives a ready-made list of talking points. Because those talking points typically boil down to “don’t build anything,” they give local politicians an easy out.

Or think of the woman who commented on John Allen’s “Dutch bike handling skills” post and got a surprisingly aggressive reply. Or the St. Paul controversy I mentioned in a previous comment. There vehicular cyclists literally rushed the stage and grabbed the microphone from the city engineer. Is John Forester (or anyone else) directly responsible for that behavior? No. But when those actions are tied to vehicular cycling rhetoric, it doesn’t exactly convey a tone of respect or collaboration.

I can separate actions from ideology, so I’m not suggesting these figures are personally responsible for every overzealous follower. But the broader perception - that many vehicular cycling advocates come across as negative, dismissive, or even hostile - isn’t coming out of nowhere. It’s grounded in repeated patterns that people have experienced firsthand, including yours truly.
Imagine two timelines:

1. Timeline A - the one we live in, shaped by vehicular cycling.
2. Timeline B - where vehicular cycling never took hold. Maybe John Forester got interested in bird-watching instead.

In Timeline B, the 1974 AASHTO guideline becomes the starting point of continuous refinement of cycling-specific infrastructure. Fifty years later, building protected bike networks is routine, though not perfect, not a “second Netherlands,” but common in most cities.

Now compare outcomes. How many fewer cyclists die in Timeline B than in ours? Even a small reduction, say 50 fewer deaths per year, one per state, adds up to 2,500 people alive today. A modest estimate of 200 fewer deaths per year equals 10,000 saved lives. In 2024 alone, 1,166 cyclists were killed in the U.S. According to the study Risk of Injury for Bicycling on Cycle Tracks Versus in the Street (Lusk et al.), the injury-risk difference between Dutch-style infrastructure and typical U.S. streets is 1:26, meaning the gap between these two timelines could be vastly larger.

We can not perfectly quantify the difference as a thought experiment, but the scale difference could be massive. When you compare these two possibilities - one with 50 years of dedicated infrastructure and one without - the death toll in our own timeline starts to look like a “slaughterhouse,” and that was the point I was making.
Again, if I had to defend that opinion, I would with leading vehicular cyclists' own words. That being said, if that has changed within the vehicular cycling community, great. Just wish there was a way the rest of could know that, because those still active online and in the advocacy space don't seem to have gotten that memo.
Unless you are arguing that the history presented of the with references is wrong, the tone (real or imagined) is not important to me. I was referencing that document to identify history.