More on Speed Cameras

Magnus Linklater has been caught speeding:

My name is Magnus Linklater and I am a speed offender. I have just posted off my confession to the magistrate and have entered a powerful plea in mitigation. It will, I suspect, fall on deaf ears. I am, therefore, preparing myself for a hefty fine, the loss of my driving licence, and three months spent discovering a great deal more about our public transport system. There, I’ve got it off my chest. I feel better already.

As he goes on to point out, he didn’t see the cameras. My attitude to this is that he was not sufficiently aware of his surroundings, so too bad. Magnus is not claiming otherwise:

The litany of my crimes is not, I think, a lurid one, but I make no defence of it.

The article then goes on to discuss the fallacy that is the claim by speed camera supporters that they improve road safety. They claim, for example, that fatalities have fallen since their introduction. However, this is quite possibly a post hoc fallacy. This is because the introduction of speed cameras did not happen in isolation, so it is difficult to assess their effectiveness. Indeed, it is entirely possible that they are counter productive:

Reading up on them, I see that most clever motorists these days either buy cars that come equipped with camera detection units, or invest in something called a Road Angel (“Guarding your life and livelihood”), which tells you when you are approaching a camera, whether by the roadside or held by a police officer. Both, it seems, are quite legal.

They are indeed. I don’t use them, though. Like most folk, I use me eyes to read the road ahead and assess it for hazards. Speed cameras are just another hazard. If you struggle with this concept, just watch the Mexican wave effect as drivers hit the brakes even when they are not exceeding the speed limit.

My own observation suggests that motorists simply see speed cameras as occupational hazards, rather than aids to safety. They slow down as they approach them, and speed up as soon as they are past.

If a speed restriction bears no resemblance to the perceived risk, then motorists will treat the restriction with contempt and ignore it, easing off when they see the big yellow box and accelerating once clear – that Mexican wave again. This is simply human nature. And, if the speed restriction is political rather than pragmatic and risk based, it has no effect on road safety whatsoever.

Given this national habit, I am not quite clear how the camera system is cutting road deaths by 100 a year, which is what the Department for Transport claims.

Quite. Indeed, it entirely possible that there are other, more significant factors at work.

In fact, looking at the figures, it seems that their effect is negligible. Despite the massive increase in the number of speed cameras over the past ten years, road deaths have fallen only marginally, from 3,421 in 1998 to 3,172 in 2006.

So they are not the panacea that their proponents claim. A camera can detect a set level above the speed limit. What it cannot do is make a decision about whether the driver is travelling at a safe speed – which may be lower than the statutory limit – or whether they are tailgating or driving erratically. These factors can and do cause road traffic incidents. Speed may or may not be a factor.

Going back to the post hoc theory, Magnus points to one possible factor:

We remain one of the safest countries in the world in which to drive, but I doubt whether this huge investment in technology is responsible. In fact it is not. Looking at the statistics, the biggest safety breakthrough occurred between 1984 and 1994, when road deaths we’re almost halved — largely because of better safety standards in car manufacturing — long before speed cameras became the norm.

Well, it’s possible. Modern vehicles are designed to mitigate the consequences of a collision rather more than their predecessors. So, yes, possible.

What, then, do they achieve: apart, that is, from producing a healthy revenue stream? Their main benefit seems to be in relieving police of patrol duties, and herein lies their primary drawback.

Ah, yes… And this is my biggest criticism. Traffic police patrols are people and people can make judgements. A traffic cop can smell a wrong ’un and pull them over for further investigation. They can observe erratic driving, or illegal lighting; they can pull over the lane hog or the lane dodger who is undertaking and the suicidal tailgater; because they can assess the situation. They can make a judgement about whether the offence requires prosecution or a caution. And, crucially, if the motorist is prepared to listen, they can provide valuable on the spot advice about improvements to their driving. Meanwhile with the reduction in traffic patrols, Magnus points out the obvious human factor that comes into play:

They will adjust their speed to the camera rather than to the conditions of the road itself. Above all, they will be less vigilant about the things that matter — built-up areas, children coming out of school, pedestrian crossings and so on — and more alert to the things that do not, such as the next approaching speed camera.

Frankly, I would prefer it if drivers adjusted their speed to the road conditions rather than a camera. That this is common sense is obvious to all but the most dunderheaded camera freak.

So what happens to the human factors if we reverse the trend for technology and regulation? Well, it’s been tried in the Netherlands and it has been successful:

Experiments in various European cities that have removed rather than added to the plethora of road traffic signs littering their streets have been found to improve safety standards; this is because motorists are thrown back on their own resources and their instincts for careful driving, rather than relying on regulations that may offer guidance but are no substitute for personal initiative.

Again, a fairly obvious conclusion. A parallel that is often joked about in motorcycling circles would be to place a spike on the centre of the steering wheel. It would concentrate the mind of the driver, somewhat. If drivers have to rely on their own senses to stay out of trouble, they will naturally regulate their own speed to give themselves time to react rather than assuming that the posted speed along with its adjoining camera is a safe one.

Magnus points out another example of failed technology with another of my pet dislikes:

The thing goes wider still. This year a large Home Office-sponsored survey into the use of CCTV cameras reached a startling conclusion. Far from being the single greatest postwar contribution to public safety, as most councils and police forces claim, they are, on their own, almost valueless. The criminology department at Leicester University examined 13 projects, and concluded that “the majority of the schemes evaluated did not reduce crime, and even where there was a reduction, this was mostly not due to CCTV; nor did CCTV make people feel safer, much less change their behaviour”.

I am not remotely surprised by this. It was obvious from the start that this would be the outcome. That those who brought this nonsense in still believe in it, merely confirms my belief that they understand little, if anything, of human behaviour.

Considering that we now spend more than £1 billion a year on CCTV cameras, it might seem legitimate to ask whether this technological emperor is wearing any clothes at all.

It isn’t.

I doubt if any of this will help my defence, but I wouldn’t half mind trying. “M’Lud,” I would begin, “they say the camera does not lie. It is my intention to demonstrate that it can, and indeed that it certainly does…”

Of course the camera lies. Ask any photographer. But, good luck with that one should you try it…

Addendum: It seems that Magnus is not alone:

One of Britain’s most senior policemen was yesterday banned from driving after pleading guilty to speeding at 90mph.

Oops! Poetic justice or what