The episode in detail
Cycling as a solution to politicians’ problems, not as a demand
Stein van Oosteren, author of ‘Pourquoi pas le vélo? Envie d’une France cyclable’ and former spokesperson for the Vélo Île-de-France collective, sets out one fundamental rule: never tell an elected official ‘I want cycling’. Say instead: ‘I have a solution to your problem’.
The problems facing elected officials are well documented. Economic crisis: cycling is a near-free mode of transport, accessible to everyone. School travel: 88% of French schoolchildren live within 8 minutes of school by bike. Access to jobs: one job offer in four is turned down for lack of mobility. Climate: transport accounts for 30% of emissions and is the only sector where they are not falling. Road danger: €50 billion a year in France. Ageing population: older people die of boredom and loneliness, and cycling gets them out of isolation. Densification: a bike takes up a fraction of the space of a car (12.5 m² parked, 140 m² in motion at 50 km/h).
“There’s no such thing as an anti-cycling politician. Politicians are pro-voter. They act when their constituents ask them for cycling.”
Organising to be heard: the role of associations and the barometer
A single citizen asking for ‘change’ will get nowhere. Stein insists on the need to get organised. The FUB (Fédération des Usagers de la Bicyclette) brings together France’s cycling associations. The cycling cities barometer, launched in 2017, lets every citizen say precisely what they think of their city when it comes to cycling.
This barometer produces data that elected officials take seriously. It turns an individual feeling into a collective, measurable demand. A citizen who joins a local association becomes a credible partner, able to propose a cycling plan, an alternative traffic plan, a vision for the future.
Cycling touches on gender equality, the economy, the environment, the way we live. It’s a far more complex subject than it appears. Public conversation is the precondition for any change.
“To change the world, it always starts with a conversation.”
The RERV: when citizens design a region’s cycle network
The Vélo Île-de-France collective was set up on 15 March 2019 to become the sole voice for cycling in the Paris region. The starting observation: the region’s cycle network was made up of scraps, bits of path with no connection between them.
Over nine months, citizens designed a network of nine cycle routes: two running along the Seine and the Marne (continuous, flat waterways), two orbital routes (the equivalent of the A86 motorway and the boulevard des Maréchaux), and five radial routes. The network was named RERV (Réseau Express Régional Vélo), on a member’s suggestion, because three letters are enough to signal a transport network, not a Sunday ride.
Covid sped up political adoption of the plan. On 11 May 2020, public transport could only run at 20% capacity. Valérie Pécresse bought into the citizens’ project and released €300 million. The total budget is around €500 million for 650 km of high-standard cycle paths, based on a costing of €800,000 per kilometre in dense areas.
“€500 million for 650 km of cycle network. A 25 km road bypass in Strasbourg costs €425 million.”
Older people and cycling: unpicking the assumptions
In the Netherlands, the largest group of adults who cycle are older people aged 65 to 75. In France, the idea of putting ‘grandma and grandpa on a bike’ seems odd. Stein explains why this is a bias in how we picture time.
Cycling is easier than walking for an older person: the weight does not rest on the joints, and the effort is lower for a greater distance. The point is not to put today’s older people on a bike tomorrow, but to create the conditions for tomorrow’s older people to be able to do so. Urban transformation takes years, and the human mind struggles to picture a future different from the present.
Stein points out that the car is only used by part of the population. Under-18s (20% of the population) are excluded. So are older people who no longer drive. Cycling is an inclusive mode of transport by nature.
“In the Netherlands, the largest group of adults who cycle are older people aged 65 to 75.”
Seeing through politicians’ fallacies: favouritism and the patchwork of responsibilities
Stein breaks down the techniques some elected officials use to avoid acting. Favouritism first: when a road is redone, only residents are consulted. Yet a resident wants to keep their parking space. Twenty people end up deciding, for an entire city, the use of a space that concerns thousands of users.
Then there’s the patchwork of responsibilities: the mayor says ‘it’s not me, it’s the department’ or ‘it’s the metropolitan authority’. In reality, these same officials sit on those bodies. A mayor who is also vice-president of the department and claims to be powerless on cycling is dodging responsibility.
The ‘fair compromise’ is another fallacy. An official proposes a cycle path that stops halfway or only runs one way, for lack of space. Stein’s response: would anyone dare propose a road full of holes, or a railway line running one way only? The argument ‘I have to look after everyone’ also cuts the other way: if the same person is by turns a pedestrian, a cyclist and a driver, that is precisely why the moment they are on a bike also needs to be made safe.
“When a mayor tells you ‘it’s not me’, it means they don’t want to represent you. That’s really not good.”
