On being a lifelong non-driver
When I was young, people began to ask radical questions about the way our society worked. We saw the birth of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament – still in the news today, as the International Campaign to Abolish Nuclear Weapons has just won the Nobel Peace Prize. We saw the battle for ‘Women’s Liberation’ and for BAME rights begin. Anyone reasonably well educated was expected to have an opinion on such matters, and I was no exception.
One of the big issues for me at the time was that of over-population. My then husband and I were influenced by reading The Population Bomb, by Paul Erlich (1968). This led to us making several life-decisions, such as only having one child and not buying a car.
It was easy to persuade myself that I needn’t to learn to drive or own a car. I lived in Brighton, on the South Coast of England, with good rail and coach services to London. We chose to live a stone’s throw from the railway station, which made it possible for my husband to commute to London by train. So at that time we felt we had no pressing need to learn to drive and buy a car.
We saw the number of cars on the road increase: from 5.6 million in the UK in 1960 to 11.8 million in 1970. Our road, and all side roads nearby, were clogged with parked vehicles. Traffic noise and air pollution were also being identified as health problems. A report called ‘Traffic in Towns’ had been published in 1963, forecasting the growth of the private car with negative impact on our quality of life. Yet no one seemed prepared to sacrifice personal convenience for the public good. We hoped our own decision not to become drivers might inspire others – some hope! On the contrary, we saw the demise of the single ‘family car’ and the rise of two or three cars per family, something I never expected.
I can’t say, though, that I have never driven a car. When we moved from Brighton to a small rural town, my father offered me his car for nothing, as he was planning to buy a new one. My parents insisted that, being ‘in the sticks’ I would need a car ‘for work.’ (But see my other blog about giving up ‘work’!) So I enrolled with a driving school for half a dozen lessons. I soon got the hang of it, and quite enjoyed it. I took one test, and failed on several minor points. I took a second test, and failed – on a different set of points. It then occurred to me that I could go on like this for some time, and for several more tests, with my driving instructor trousering the proceeds as he laughed his way to the bank.
Worse, it occurred to me, while screeching to a halt to avoid running someone over, that if I passed the test I would then have a lethal weapon under my control (or not, as the case may be). A moment’s inattention could lead to an increase in the already horrifying road accident statistics. That decided me: I would not learn to drive, and I would never own a car.
So what has life been like as a non-driver? Firstly, public attitudes have definitely changed over the years. I can recall a woman once saying to me, with an expression of utter shock on her face, ‘Oh my goodness, I couldn’t possibly manage without my car!’ Back then, lack of a driving licence seemed like a dirty secret.
Having to rely on lifts to anywhere beyond the reach of public transport became a bit of a burden. Taking a taxi seemed preferable to asking for a lift and being the subject of pity and curiosity. I probably looked like someone who could afford a car, particularly while I was still teaching, and I had no apparent health problems, so why was I a non-driver? Hence the apocryphal quote, wrongly attributed to Margaret Thatcher: "Anybody seen in a bus over the age of 30 has been a failure in life."
The idea that I might have deliberately decided not to drive, rather than having it forced upon me by fate, was beyond most people’s comprehension. So instead of seeming to be a pioneer and an example to others, I began to feel more like an unprincipled freeloader, taking advantage of the generosity of car-owners. The converse of this was having lifts pressed upon me, when I was quite happy to take a bus or train, or even walk to my destination.
‘Oh, you can’t possibly walk!’ they would chirrup, when I said I could cover a mile in around fifteen minutes. ‘You must let me give you a lift!’
This issue has been partly resolved by changing general attitudes. Many people now cycle to work in cities, and don’t need a car. I also know drivers who prefer to take a train into a city rather than face ‘parking problems,’ some nervous drivers who never go on motorways, and people who have given up driving because of ill health. Best of all, rail travel is no longer the sole province of the poor underprivileged pedestrian!
That brings me to the other side of the coin: my lifelong reliance on public transport. The worst time for this was in the late sixties, when branch lines were being closed all over the country, following the infamous reports of Dr Richard Beeching. Many ‘under-used’ rail services were replaced by buses. It was argued that these cuts would save the rest of the rail network, but that cut no ice with anyone whose life was disrupted by this draconian measure.
In 1967 I lived in Brighton and worked in Tunbridge Wells, Kent. At first there was a perfectly good rail service, but once this was earmarked for closure trains became increasingly few and far between or delayed by ‘leaves on the line.’ I have a vivid memory of sitting huddled in a freezing waiting room, and hearing the dismal announcement that my train had been cancelled yet again. So when a kind colleague offered to give me lifts I gratefully accepted.
I have seen the cost of motoring rise exponentially over the past fifty years or so, and am convinced that I have been better off financially through not owning a car. Petrol rises, depreciation, road tax, parking fines – all of these have passed me by, along with worries about whether one’s car is safe from vandalism and random acts of stupidity from other drivers. So as well as being better off financially, there is a whole arena of anxiety that I have escaped.
Interestingly, when I admit to not owning a car nowadays the old response is reversed and I hear, ‘You’re better off without one!’
Are we approaching the end of private car-ownership? Autonomous electric vehicles could mean that cities would become pleasanter places to live, without parking and pollution; road accidents would be rare events, and the burden of car maintenance would be lifted from the shoulders of individuals. This future was seriously discussed at the South by Southwest conference in Austin, Texas, earlier this year.
So I am looking forward to a not-so-distant future where everyone is a non-driver.
Illustration by ArtsyBee, Pixabay