Thoughts on cycling...

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I've got a bike. You can ride it if you like.
It's got a basket, a bell that rings and
Things to make it look good.

I don't cycle. Indeed I gave my bike to my son a week or so back for him to travel to and from work. I used to cycle, back in the days when cycling five miles to school in South London was a done thing (and when schools, famously, had bike sheds behind which you could smoke).

So I was curious about the recent modest hullabaloo about cycling accidents where, if I understand correctly, they are all the fault of Boris Johnson.

The thing is that the number of cyclists involved in accidents has increased as the number of cyclists has increased. The CTC reports that the mileage cycled has increased by 20% over the past decade and that around 750,000 people regularly cycle to work.

It may be that, as numbers of cyclists increase, awareness levels increase too - both because cyclists are more expected on the roads but also that more drivers are also cyclists. And some research supports this contention:

The likelihood that a given person walking or bicycling will be struck by a motorist varies inversely with the amount of walking or bicycling. This pattern is consistent across communities of varying size, from specific intersections to cities and countries, and across time periods. (Jacobsen, 2003)

So more cycling means lower risks (although not necessarily fewer injuries in absolute terms, which is the reason for the silly spat over Boris) for cyclists but not for motorists.  The question is whether there's a point at which the critical mass of cyclists has sufficient of an effect on driver behaviour to begin to see the risks for the motorists fall as they are for the cyclist.

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The idea of differential risk is beyond much of the UK's male population

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The EU, in a fit of lunatic equality-mongering, plans on making insurance companies charge women more for their motor insurance despite them not being as big a risk on the roads as us men.

If this wasn't stupid enough, the results of a poll conducted by Uswitch reveals that this idea of differential risk is beyond much of the UK's male population:

The survey found that despite the hardship facing female drivers, two-thirds (66%) of men said they believed the new legislation was needed. A fifth (18%) of men felt they had been unfairly paying the lion’s share of premiums, and just under half (45%) believed they have been unfairly discriminated against.

Presumably the next step will be to prevent discrimination on the basis of age - meaning that we'll all be paying insurance premiums made more costly by the risks associated with teenaged boy racers. Who I'm sure feel 'discriminated against'.

The answer to those blokes who feel discriminated against is simple - learn how to drive as safely as women and you'll pay less!

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The case for wealth...

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Over in the USA it seems that the case for wealth - and its benefits to us all - is being made:

Conard picked up a soda can and pointed to the way the can’s side bent inward at the top. “I worked with the company that makes the machine that tapers that can,” he told me. That little taper allows manufacturers to make the same size can with a tiny bit less aluminum. “It saves a fraction of a penny on every can,” he said. “There are a lot of soda cans in the world. That means the economy can produce more cans with the same amount of resources. It makes every American who buys a soda can a little bit richer because their paycheck buys more.” 

And the people create that consumer benefit should be allowed to make - and keep - their wealth.

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Do we need a jogging tax?

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On the logic that people should be discouraged from engaging in lifestyle choices that damage their health - that these things should be "denormalised" - we should take action about jogging. Especially given the burden such inconsiderate activity places on the the NHS.

MRI scans on 40 athletes training for challenging sporting events like triathlons or alpine cycle races showed most had stretched heart muscles.

Although many went on to make a complete recovery after a week, five showed more permanent injuries.

The researchers told the European Heart Journal how these changes might cause heart problems like arrhythmia. 

I know the industry - let's call it "Big Gym" - says these are minor considerations and that "endurance training isn't unhealthy" but surely something must be done.  And remember that it's not just this increased risk of heart disease, there are over 250,000 admissions to hospital resulting from sports injuries in the UK alone.

Perhaps we should set up Exercise Concern?

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Thoughts on driving through Harehills....

There I was driving through Harehills and I realised what it was that makes it such an interesting place.

But first a little background.

I’d been to a neighbourhood forum in the village at which – as is common at these events – the subject of traffic had arisen. A debate about parking enforcement, traffic calming, speed limits and the evilness of the lorry took place. A largely inconclusive debate.

A day or two later I was recounting this meeting to Kathryn (we do talk about the sexiest things) and she commented along these lines:

Why do we spend money on all these things? Can’t people just look out, take care and act like grown ups.

My words were lost – I could think of little to justify Bradford Council spending thousands (bearing in mind that ‘a thousand’ is roughly speaking the average council tax in the City) on further ‘interventions’ aimed at managing the traffic and, just maybe, improving road safety. In a place where there’s been no injury accident in 20 years.

Fast forward to today when I’m driving through Harehills.

I used to get annoyed by the road environment in these inner city places. But now I see it as just people getting on with their busy lives (and, despite the poverty, there’s a load of business going on). I watch smiling as the young man parks right on the lights, on a double yellow line, helps his elderly mum out of the car and then walks into the shop with her. There’s an Asian lady clutching two small children by the hand hovering in the centre of this busy road. And there’s a complete disregard for yellow lines, one way signs and all the controls of modern traffic management.

Here we see cars double parked. A couple of young Iraqis or Kurds are having an animated conversation while blocking the traffic from a side road. And there’s a load of great shops to cast the eye over – including the wonderfully named Noshi Food Store.

This is a properly busy place where people know there are risks – after all plenty of them ran a few risks to get to Leeds in the first place. And the two kids hanging onto that Asian lady’s hands will grow up to double park, drive too fast and hold animated conversations while holding up the traffic. But those kids – and some of the migrant and refugee folk arriving in Harehills – will also take other risks. They’ll start businesses, risk their own time and capital on the possibility of success. And a few will succeed – will make millions and will contribute more to our economy than the meagre pittance we shell out for them in support when they arrive.

And this is a contrast to the kids in the village. Carefully protected, coddled even. Protected from risks and surrounded by adults who tell them something or other isn’t safe, is not allowed, might be dangerous, will make them ill or will be frowned on by the neighbours. These kids – or most of them – will be fine. They’ll avoid risks like they’re told – not smoking, drinking only moderately, eating a healthy diet, getting an education. And then they’ll do what I did – get a job where they don’t need to take risks, where they can earn a living safely. For many they’ll wonder one day – perhaps like I do at 50 – why they didn’t take risks. Didn’t start that business. Put off trekking through the Andes. Bought a Toyota rather than a great big pick up.

The kids in Harehills don’t have that luxury. For them it’s take risks and have a chance of getting out of poverty. Or else a life of poverty. And they’ve been educated in risks at their mother’s knee (in the middle of Roundhay Road as well), at school and in the life of the streets where their life is played out.

And one day the kids from the village will wonder why those Kurds, Iraqis, Persians, Zimbabweans, Bangladeshis and Congolese have BMWs, big electric gates and flash watches.

It will be because they took the risks.

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A parable of enterprise

John is speaking with his mate Jim in the club and Jim mentions in passing a bit of a wheelbarrow crisis he’s facing. It seems Jim needs to get hold of 50 barrows at short notice. Just a passing comment.

Next day John’s driving past Scott’s Yard and he sees a compound full of wheelbarrows. John stops, buys the wheelbarrows for £15 each and rings Jim. “You know those wheelbarrows you wanted?” “Yes,” says Jim. “Well I’ve got 50 you can have for a grand but you’ll have to pick them up from Scott’s Yard.” The deal is done. Scott’s got rid of depreciating stock, Jim’s solved his wheelbarrow crisis and John’s made a tidy profit for the sake of ten minutes chat with Scott and a phone call.

So what you say. Just wheeling and dealing. But let’s look a little closer at the situation. On seeing the wheelbarrows, John has three options – he can ignore them and drive on, he can simply ring Jim and tell him about the barrows or he can see the opportunity, take the risk and make the profit. Be clear that most of us would not take that third option – the most we’d do is tell Jim and maybe get a pint out of him next time we’re together in the club.

People think there’s something grand, swish or complicated about enterprise. There isn’t. Enterprise is what John does and we don’t. It has two elements – spotting the opportunity and taking the risk. If you spot the opportunity but don’t take the risk – you’ll get a grateful pint from Jim. And if you take a risk but have no opportunity you’ll go bust.

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