Let’s imagine this scenario.
A man does something that inconveniences some other people, but these people are not so inconvenienced as to ask the man if he could be more accommodating.
Not exactly headline news, is it?
Let’s imagine this scenario.
A man does something that inconveniences some other people, but these people are not so inconvenienced as to ask the man if he could be more accommodating.
Not exactly headline news, is it?
Yesterday a couple of tweets popped up, pointing out a new trademark filing from the CTC. It was widely known that a major rebranding (and revision of strategy) was in the pipeline, and this was the first publicly available taste of that change.
At around 7:30am on New Year’s Day 2015, James Stephenson was killed on the A3 near Bramshott in Hampshire. One man was arrested on suspicion of causing death by careless driving, but Hampshire Police took no further action. Naturally, I wondered why. I finally managed to track down a report of the inquest, published in the Haslemere Herald in May 2015, and—perhaps unsurprisingly—it doesn’t really resolve that question.
In the Northumbrian village of Corbridge, a stretch of road has had some white lines removed and some new ones painted.
And it’s causing a stir.
A couple of weeks ago I spotted a Vauxhall Corsa with a sticker on it, took a photo of it, tweeted it, and got a nice reply from the company who owned it. And that was pretty much it.
However, I hadn’t really expected the vitriolic (and often uninformed) responses—mainly on Singletrack’s Facebook page—that it generated once people found out about it. (That said, the stats on the posts indicate that the vitriolic comments are overwhelmed by tacit support. As usual: it’s a vocal minority shouting the loudest.)
So, given that there’s such a variation of views (and the fact that I’m not on Facebook) I thought: perhaps it’s worth explaining why I did it.
Some ideas are good ideas. But sometimes people’s belief in those good ideas can, whether through over-enthusiasm or for other reasons, lose sight of reality. And that can cause problems.
One good idea is that of presumed liability. But has Road Share, the campaign for presumed liability in Scotland, lost sight of reality?
The main focus of the Beyond the Kerb blog has always been the aspect of road use in general which I find—literally, in all too many cases—morbidly fascinating: people’s attitudes, which are manifested not just in people’s personal use of the roads, but also in the media and, most concerningly of all, law. But, occasionally, I mention cycling infrastructure.
It’s perhaps no surprise that contemporary definitions of the word “terrorism” have largely narrowed somewhat, but one of the Oxford English Dictionary’s definitions of “terrorism” still represents the broader usage:
The instilling of fear or terror; intimidation, coercion, bullying.
The first use of the term is believed to have been around 1794 and was in reference not to to the use of terror as a tool to undermine governments, but to the use of terror by governments themselves. Only a few years later it was being used in reference to the British government of the time.
In writing his guest post about the Notice of Intended Prosecution, Ralph shared with me some material he received from Surrey Police. It makes for interesting reading, and this post highlights one particular point.
This is a guest post by Ralph de Kanter. It’s about just one frustrating aspect of the business of attempting to tackle bad driving: the Notice of Intended Prosecution.
Over to Ralph to share his experience of how this works out in practice, from the point of view of a road user at risk from others’ bad driving. (Feel free to share your own experiences in the comments.)
It is often said that an unenforceable law is futile, perhaps even counter-productive. But is this really true?
Today’s column features guest writer Angela Einstein. (Please do follow that link before reading on.)
Take it away, Angela…
Charles Rowan, or “Karr the Magician” as he billed himself, was a self-styled magician of the early twentieth century, whose performance came to include escapology. Magicians being showmen, he—like many others—sought to add the excitement of danger to his act.
It all began, as it so often does, with a couple of simple questions.
“The Invisible Cyclist”, begins Direct Line’s press release (it’s two years old, but it’s doing the rounds again). The Invisible Cyclist.
Friday’s ride was good. Wouldn’t have minded a bit more sun, I guess, but I spent ten hours in the saddle and felt better than expected, which is a good day out by any standards.
Quick as a flash, the hare senses the machinery approaching. His ears twitch towards the deep, industrial growl; his nose dances around the particles drifting through the air; his eyes swivel instantly towards the cloud of dust and chaff cast skywards by the beast that thunders towards him.
This article is a follow-up to Something’s Not Quite Right Here and includes additional analysis based on information that has become available following the conclusion of the trial of Philip Sinden, who was charged with causing the death of Daniel Squire by dangerous driving. Continue reading
Today Philip Sinden was cleared of causing the death of Daniel Squire.
But something’s not quite right here.
In the aftermath of a car crash there is silence. An eerie, disturbing silence. But if you listen carefully, you can hear the echoes of the crash throughout the legal system.
And, like any echoes, these become quieter and quieter.
The law, like the life scattered across the tarmac, is being erased.