British Driving Culture

We've been in the UK for almost a week and yesterday spent the day skulking about London.  Like the rest of England, London makes demands on a vehicle operator's attention that many North Americans would find onerous.  The small lanes, lack of shoulder and volume of traffic conspire to create a very intense and focused driving environment.  Efficiency of motion isn't an option, it's an expectation.

A few years ago they set up a roundabout in our small town in Southern Ontario.  The locals used to bring out lawn chairs and sit and watch the circus as Canadian drivers tried to negotiate an intersection that didn't have lights telling them what to do.  At a roundabout in the UK you tend to accelerate into an opening.  If you slow down (or stop as many Canadian drivers do) before entering it, you're going to create a chorus of honks behind you.  You can expect others to see you coming and make space, but you need to be attentive and collegial in your approach.  Ignoring others by cutting them off doesn't fly here.  Being a waffling idiot and not taking an opening won't make you any friends either.  A demanding kind of efficiency and cooperation that is foreign to many North American drivers is the expectation.

London traffic is that kind of urgent efficiency turned up to eleven.  Oddly, British drivers are still very polite, waving thanks and making eye contact when they are facing a problem, like cars parked on an otherwise busy road blocking an entire lane of traffic, which seems to happen constantly.  If the obstruction is on your side of the road you're supposed to wait for traffic in the clear lane to pass, but people often pull over to let through cars that are stuck if it improves the flow of traffic and doesn't slow them inordinately.  This kind of consideration is another aspect of North American driving that is vanishingly rare, especially in the Greater Toronto Area where drivers tend to take on more of a 'get yours and screw everyone else' mindset.

Based on what I've seen, even a hesitant, relatively slow British driver would be considered near the pinnacle of driving talent in Canada, which is one of the reasons I find driving a car there tedious.  Given a choice, Canadian drivers are content to give over about half of their attention to driving effectively, mainly because the massive roads with constant shoulders, signalling that tells you what to do rather than take initiative and minimal traffic volume encourage it.  When things do get busy, as in Toronto, asshole is the default rather than let's all work together to make this go more smoothly.


Even with steep congestion taxes London is a constant flow of traffic, but it's all moving, and usually quickly.  Into this maelstrom, thanks to demands of space and emissions requirements, motorcycles thrive.  My first view when we got above ground and out of The Tube was a blood delivery bike effortlessly cutting through traffic on a busy Thursday morning.  An older guy on a Suzuki Vstrom, he handled his machine with the kind of effortless grace you see of people who have a lot of miles under them.  He seemed to see everything at once and disappeared through the delivery vans and cars in a flash of effortless speed.


Two wheeled delivery vehicles thrive in London, with couriers of all shapes and sizes on everything from 50cc scooters to big BMWs making the rounds.  As we were walking toward Camden Market a rideere pulled into one of the few unused pieces of tarmac in London (the small triangle a car wouldn't fit in before a curb) and carried out an animated conversation over bluetooth head piece with his dispatcher.

The efficiency of small vehicles like motorbikes isn't ignored in England like it is in Canada.  Bikes can squeeze through gaps that would cause a queue otherwise and split lanes.  Parking is more efficient for bikes, so half a dozen commuters can and do park in the space taken up by one SUV.

Being a dispatch rider in London is considered a badge of distinction by motorcyclists here.  If you can survive that you're a good rider with exceptional awareness and control.  If you weren't, you wouldn't last.

We're now on a train to Norwich (my dad's hometown) where we're picking up a cousin's car and driving in the UK for the first time.  I always look forward to it because it's engaging and challenging.  You can't eat or drink and drive here like you can in Canada, but you wouldn't want to.  You seldom stop due to a lack of traffic lights and a plethora of roundabouts and the roads are tight, twisty and require your attention.  To top it all off everything is backwards.  For the first couple of days I chant that like a mantra inside my head when I'm driving here.  It keeps me on the right side of the road and gets me used to indicators and wipers being on opposite sides more quickly.  Within a day or two I'm acclimatized and accidentally cleaning my windows way less.


I might try and find a motorbike rental while I'm home and see if I can find out where my Granddad Bill took that picture on his Coventry Eagle and get a photo of myself on something similarly English and iconoclastic, perhaps an Ariel Ace?

The other night I was in the car back to my cousin's house and we were intent on making time.  With the twisty, tight roads it felt like navigating a rally stage  As we thrashed down the highway a Porsche 911 blew past us like we were going backwards.  I love UK driving culture.

A State of Constant Surprise

On the bike I tend to pay very close attention to people piloting the boxes around me, mainly because they can quite easily hurt me.  That close attention has shown me that a surprising number of drivers (anecdotally more than half) are in a constant state of surprise.  They jump when they notice someone walking down the sidewalk, they start when a light changes in front of them; they are permanently startled by everything around them.

These jumpy people must be exhausted when they get out of the car.  I wonder if they are equally surprised by everything when they go for a walk.  Perhaps their subconscious is just continually reminding them that this driving thing is a bit more than they can manage.  Next time you're riding or driving try to consciously register how often you're surprised by events around you.

When I started driving I found that my mind wandered and I wasn't always paying attention to what I was doing.  After an accident (not entirely my fault, but I could have avoided it had I been paying better attention) I made a promise to myself to make driving the priority in my mind when I'm at the wheel.  I developed a relaxed, alert driving style that allowed me to take in what was around me while also being able to respond to it quickly and smoothly.  When I did something wrong or found myself in a bad situation I'd consciously review it and ask myself how it got like that and try think of alternatives for the next time.  It took me a long time, some advanced driving courses and some track time to get me where I wanted to be in terms of driving, but I don't look surprised or start at everything I see like a rabbit in a field.  I suspect most people are lost in thought when driving matters interrupt them, and if something bad happens embarrassment forces them to ignore it rather than critically review it.

Most drivers behind the wheel.  Being freaked out is not the
same thing as being alert or responsive.

If you don't make a conscious effort to develop a skill it atrophies.  Practice by itself isn't improvement, in many cases it's just reinforcing bad habits, which is what I see every day when I'm closely watching the habitual people around me with years behind the wheel driving in shock and awe.

When you consider that the last time most drivers made an effort to learn how to drive was when they needed to get a license, many of them are not only trapped in bad habits but have also forgotten what little they did pick up years ago.

People often say that riding on the street is a dangerous business, they aren't wrong.  Getting hit by a startled rabbit in a three ton metal box is gonna hurt, no matter how startled they are.  The trick is to see the rabbits and give them enough space to drive badly, it's all they know how to do.

Appliances & Commitment

Car companies use special effects to show what
 their cars can't do.  This only underlines the
absurdity of it all

I'm having trouble enjoying car ads.  I've always loved cars since I was a kid, but when I'm watching ads that show driving a car on the road as some kind of noble physical pursuit I'm finding them impossible to take seriously.  When you factor in the increasing use of special effects to show what the car being sold can't do, it only serves to underline how absurd it is to market the idea of car as a physical extension of the self.  In addition to being dishonest, it isn't how and why the vast majority of people drive.

More than most cars, the Acura RLX can make a claim to be a driver's car.  The end tag line about how amazing things can happen when man and machine connect is where this is beginning to break down for me.  How connected can you possible be to an automatic, climate controlled machine that weighs two tons?  It isn't what you could call an intimate relationship.

GM seems to have gone all in with the special effects.  Their econo-box is a skateboard, robot dogs abound, and the new Corvette can help you battle aliens.  The use of special effects to show what a car can't do (but how it's supposed to make you feel)  is becoming a key part of marketing these transportation appliances.

At the bike course one of our instructors talked about how tiring it is to ride a bike, especially when you're starting out.  We were all sitting there sweaty and tired in the classroom after a couple of hours manhandling bikes around increasingly complicated courses.  He asked us about our commute to the course that morning, what were we doing as we drove our cars?  One hand on the wheel, a foot on the gas?  Listening to the radio?  All in a  controlled environment remote from the road.

Now, he says, think about what you were just doing out there.  One foot on the gear shift, one foot on the rear brake, left hand on the clutch and indicators, right hand on the front brake, both arms steering, using your whole body to lean the bike into corners and resist the wind.  Riding is a calisthenic activity, and it demands much more of your attention because the result of inattention is never just a fender bender.

The only time I've come close to the same experience on four wheels was when I was cart racing in Japan or doing advanced driver training at Shannonville.  Knowing how intense and demanding that kind of driving is helped me a lot in taking the bike course, but it's not how most people will ever drive a car.  To 99.9% of drivers a car is a transportation appliance, a necessary means of getting somewhere; it's why everyone is so attentive and skilled on the road.  You can try and market a person's connection with their car in mystical undertones of human/machine perfection or simply paint it absurd with special effects, but the fact remains: the vast majority of  automotive drivers are in it for the same reason that we buy any appliance: to get a job done we'd rather not do ourselves.

Having ridden for a couple of months now, I'm beginning to see why bike riders tend toward a sense of superiority when it comes to being on the road.  Watching car companies go into graphic detail about how athletic you'll be in your two ton box starts to look absurd when you consider how drab the process of driving a car on public roads actually is; it requires a bare minimum of commitment.

One of the things that strikes me every time I get on the bike is how naked I feel.  I've never looked at the surface of a road so closely, or been so aware of where the painted lines are, or of what the weather is doing, or what condition my bike is in.  I think all riders feel this, even if they don't articulate it.  It's one of the reasons they tend to give each other a wave as they pass by; they are recognizing the commitment to the road that is lacking in appliance drivers.

This isn't to say that driving can't be athletic.  I'm an avid Formula One fan and I think those drivers are some of the finest athletes in the world, a truly balanced blend of physical endurance, strength and intelligence.  But on a public road there is only one form of driving that comes close to that level of commitment, dedication and focus, and it has never been on four wheels, no matter how exciting car companies want to dress up the operation of their appliances.