The Curse of the Cul-de-Sac: How Car Culture Is Hollowing Out Halloween

by Daniel Moore

November 2, 2026 

Every October 31st, ghosts, vampires, cowboys, princesses, and more take over the streets. Porch lights illuminate makeshift haunted mansions as trick-or-treaters wander neighborhoods on foot, with neighbors gathering at front steps to greet one another. For decades, Halloween has been a holiday that embraces inclusivity and community, letting people be whoever they want to be, feeling joy in their chosen paths. The candy, of course, is the added, much more recognizable bonus. Yet, across suburban communities like Penfield, that traditional trick-or-treating experience is quietly vanishing. I’d argue the culprit isn’t an increase in screens, but rather how the built environment has continually discouraged and eliminated connectivity, community, and affordability.

An ideal trick-or-treating ecosystem relies on human-scale principles: contiguous sidewalk networks, narrow road widths, slow vehicular speeds, and connected street grids. All of these spatial features are increasingly becoming rarer as planning overemphasizes cars over people. Houses were once built with expansive front porches, promoting us to talk with our neighbors. Now, the main feature on many houses is the garage. House design itself has shifted, encouraging exclusivity and individualism. Many of these developments also do not have sidewalks, forcing anyone wishing to walk and pushing trick-or-treaters to the sides of the road. With Halloween festivities beginning at dusk, parents and kids alike are deterred by the very real danger of sharing unlit roads with speeding traffic, discouraged by fear of being hit by a car that is not used to sharing the road. 

The surge of “Trunk-or-Treats” in parking lots claims to provide a safer alternative to navigating the streets. However, these events are fundamentally an admission of defeat. Instead of demanding better connectivity and community, we have laid down our swords, wands, and other props, waiving the white flag to the monarch of Automobiland. Yet, before all hope is lost, we do not need to let cars win. We can let people win. We can demand a better zoning code. We can get more sidewalks and better connectivity. We can change how our houses and streets are designed. We can save Halloween and rebuild vibrant, inclusive, and affordable communities in the process. The scariest thing on Halloween should be the monsters knocking on your door, not the road you cross to reach it.