urbanism
Each spring, as the frost thaws, Britain’s roads reveal their battle scars. Potholes are back in the headlines, a seasonal spectacle of cracked asphalt and political posturing. This isn’t just an annual grumble - it’s a worsening crisis. Roads are crumbling under the weight of ever-larger vehicles, and while councils scramble to patch the damage, the holes reappear faster than they can be filled.
The urban car is about as well-suited to the modern metropolis as a hippopotamus to a studio flat. Summer streets sag under its weight, our air thickens with its exhalations of nitrogen oxides and soot, and all the while, the creature demands more - more space to move, more space to rest. The sheer spatial absurdity of it: Each steel-and-glass sarcophagus idling for hours, occupying far more square footage than the bodies it transports. And yet, bizarrely, we persist.
The true cost of car dependency is eye-watering. Research from Sweden puts the lifetime cost of car ownership at nearly £500,000 - of which a staggering 41% is shouldered by society. From air pollution to road deaths, congestion to climate emissions, the damage caused by our car-first culture extends far beyond individual drivers.
At this point, you could set your watch by it: Another International Women’s Day has rolled around, and we are reminded that while women can allegedly have it all, we still can’t have a cycle lane that doesn’t abruptly vanish into multiple lanes of fast-moving traffic.
If you ever wanted proof that Britain is a land of quietly baked-in inequality, take a look at who’s on a bike. A new report from Sustrans has confirmed what many have long suspected: cycling in the UK is still a largely male pursuit, and the problem starts young. Almost twice as many boys as girls cycle regularly, a discrepancy that echoes into the adult world, where only half as many women as men take to two wheels.
