Oh, it’s you. Well, come in, come in. Wipe your feet. I’ll just put some plastic down over the seats. We don’t want to get oil or grease marks on them do we? You know what some cyclists are like. I bet the only time some of them wash is when we get a rain shower. I’ve put on a selection of home made cakes on those doilies and tea in the Harrods container over there on my wife’s executive hostess trolley. Now, let’s have a little chat about class.
The British have developed a strange attitude toward class and status through recent decades. In the past everyone knew their place and only spent what they could afford. The bicycle was the mode of transport for getting about as your place of work and shops were nearby anyway. With relentless marketing from the motoring lobby (Ford made no secret of their product placement in programmes such as The Professionals) and construction of infrastructure hostile to anything without an engine, the car was the now affordable, progressive item of desire for the working classes to have. In the village where I was brought up in the 1970’s, the main place of work was an engineering works about a mile away. Everyone walked or cycled as it was the logical thing to do. By the end of the decade, all but a hardcore minority had moved from bicycle to car. My father worked there, made the same transition, has had heart problems for years now and still doesn’t get the connection.
I often look at the price tag of a new car and think ‘how many can really afford that’. Of course in our recent times of easy credit, it was easier to burden oneself with the payments over a period of months with the choice of upgrading their car or paying a lump sum to make the car officially theirs. People were always going to go for the upgrade, burdening themselves with more debt and ensuring brand loyalty.
However, the adverts the customers saw promised quite a lot beyond the mpg statistics (which they ignored). They promised empty forests and fire roads or desolate city centres with strangely romantic street lighting. Above all they promised aspiration and freedom. Buy this product and suddenly you can become [even more] attractive to the opposite sex. You could free yourself from your supposedly lowly bonds and BE somebody.
If motorists are a bit aggressive, it’s partly because behind those angry, stressful eyes they’re wondering why the Ring Road is full to the brim of other aspiring sexy types looking for that open tundra. Near Ipswich. They will carry on motoring to the death, as they feel that they have paid their way to sit in such misery. They have had to insure it, ensure that it’s roadworthy, fill it with fuel and pay for the amount of emissions its engine size will generate (which is when they finally read those mpg statistics). This, to many motorists, means that they have ‘bought in’ and own the roads. They are part of an exclusive club that thinks the roads are theirs when they aren’t, that thinks they can drive how they want when they can’t, and individually thinks their journey is more important when it isn’t.
In these supposedly enlightened times, the humble bicycle is still generally regarded in the UK as the poor mans transport, for people that don’t quite fit in or the great unwashed who don’t pay their way. That’s one perception and the media, largely reliant on motoring advertising revenues, are happy to keep it that way.
Another factor, particularly in these Autumnal times is the use of high-viz. To the aspiring classes, an activity requiring a high-viz tabard is something that…well….poorer people do. You don’t need high-viz in a gym (unless you are particularly clumsy, or you’re working on the air conditioning). You shouldn’t need it when cycling either, but that’s another debate. A tentative list of lower class high-viz activities might be;
- Refuse collectors and street cleaners
- Delivery drivers
- Working ‘behind the scenes’ of a supermarket
- Car park assistants at large car boot sales (for fetes, you would get the local Scouts to assist and therefore wear the high-viz)
- Taking your dog for a walk along the pavement if you live on a busy trunk road.
It doesn’t matter that any these people are very nice or would go out of their way to help. The British class system has spoken. Until Boden start doing high-viz to wear around ‘Farmers Markets’.
Recently, levels of cycling have started to rise in places such as style conscious London. Although in real terms cycling still has a pitifully low modal share, Boris Bikes, Superhighways and even Cycle Chic seemed to be floating around the media in a positive way. Cycling was starting to be discussed, which could only be a good thing. To counter this, a new battle front opened up. This time it was aspiring cyclists that spent too much money. Enter the MAMIL (Middle Aged Man In Lycra). The Daily Mail clearly wanted middle aged men back in golf club bars moaning about immigration and buying sports cars (preferably ones they’ve reviewed). The storm subsided when it was realised that cycling in this instance was an exclusive sporting activity as opposed to everyday transport so the road tax myth could be kept intact.
The simple fact is that cycling can be as expensive or as cheap as you want it to be without compromising your safety and wellbeing. Its an egalitarian, libertarian mode of transport that effortlessly transcends class which is why this land of ours has so much trouble dealing with it. The most wonderful thing about a bicycle is that it loves you just the way you are. Which is just as well really, you scruffy peasant.
A Lo Fidelity Reader (David Gander) tried to submit a cartoon through the comments section that he thought pertinent to the above piece but couldn’t. I invited him to email it to me for inclusion and this is what he sent…
‘It’s actually a rough of the real thing (don’t know where that is now) but you get the idea. This is from about 1991 when I worked for the London Cycling Campaign when they produced a monthly (I think) magazine called ‘The Daily Cyclist’ and I submitted cartoons and stuff for them as a freelance illustrator (I still am). I did loads of stuff for them and ‘Transport 2000′ as they were then called. I was, and still am a very keen cyclist although I don’t commute through London anymore.’
So there you go. A reader kindly submits a cartoon that’s around 20 years old and its still as relevant today as it was then. To me, it also demonstrates how we’re not very good at dealing with serious problems as a nation but very good at creating new and inventive ways of viewing them. But that’s a far greater debate. Thank you David.