The Pedestrian: A Fantasy in One Act

Leonard Mead, the protagonist of “The Pedestrian,” is an unmarried writer who likes to take walks at night through his city. He is a round character who drives the narrative by standing in stark contrast to nearly everything that his society expects.

In his society, people are expected to drive to work and then return to their air-conditioned homes to watch mindless entertainment on their “viewing screens” with their families. Mead does none of these things. He walks outside at night when everyone else is at home, observes the world outside, and notices the empty repetition of the content that entrances his neighbors. Further contravening social norms, Mead doesn’t have a viewing screen, and he is not married. Even his profession is a rebellion against the expectations of his world: At a time when no one buys books or magazines, he describes himself as a writer, even though he doesn’t write anymore. Being a writer is so unusual in this society that the robot policeman sneers at it. The common thread in Mead’s unconventional choices is that he thinks, reflects, and feels. Meanwhile, his fellow citizens are portrayed as mindless automatons. This characterization connects to a common theme in Bradbury’s writing that is also prominent in Fahrenheit 451: Through Mead’s choices, Bradbury suggests that without reading, people will lose the ability to authentically think and feel. The corollary is that if people cannot think and feel, they will simply accept restrictions from authoritarian governments.

Although Mead pushes back against his society’s rules in numerous ways, he is a meek, introverted person. His favorite activity—walking through the quiet streets at night—is a quiet, solitary pastime. Bradbury’s choice to repeatedly use Mead’s full name and title (“Mr. Leonard Mead”) gives the character an air of formality and seriousness. However, his interest in nature shows he is also sensitive. His sensitivity and curiosity are revealed when he doesn’t condemn his neighbors for whiling away their time with formulaic programs. Instead, he merely wonders what they are watching, naming the times and channels to show his awareness of their predictable activities. His responses to the robotic policeman’s interrogation also confirm his meek nature. When the policeman says being a writer is not a profession, he acknowledges that “you might say that” (21). Asked why he is unmarried, he says, “nobody wanted me” (21). These responses do not imply self-pity because Mead seems happy with his choices; instead, he laments that writing is hardly a profession because people no longer read. The poetic mood of the story suggests that he truly enjoys walking at night and observing the world around him and that he pities other people for how authority and technology have separated them from what he considers to be of real value: independent thought and connection.

The combination of Mead’s unconventional behavior and humble nature contribute to the horror of the story’s ending. He doesn’t hurt anyone or directly confront the government, but his failure to conform still causes him to be forcibly placed in a mental health facility. These circumstances push the reader to consider the horrible unfairness of a society intolerant of differences. Bradbury suggests that if a quiet, unassuming person like Mead can be arrested for the simple act of walking at night, then no one is safe from the whims of a repressive government.