An idea for the new mayor: pay-as-you-go roads

The new mayor, whoever they are, should start charging drivers based on how much they drive, not sim

London is an increasingly congested city, and with the population expected to continue to grow by as much as 2 million over the next twenty years, congestion is only likely to get worse, with negative consequences for liveability, air quality, carbon emissions, and economic competitiveness.

One policy however could make a substantial contribution to reducing congestion on London’s roads: pay-as-you-go congestion charging (road pricing). Though the case for congestion charging has been more popular on the left than the right, it is founded on good market principles – one of the first people to argue for it was the Chicago-school economist Milton Friedman. Road pricing is simply an economically efficient way of allocating an increasingly scarce resource (road space). For that reason, the theoretical case for road pricing is now accepted by most economists and the policy is supported by a wide array of business organisations.

Smart technologies are making road pricing ever less costly. And it should not be difficult to design a scheme for London which actually reduces the costs of using a car for some car owners – those that use a car infrequently, or on non-congested roads.  

One simple idea might be for the Mayor to refund to all car owners the cost of their annual vehicle tax, while introducing road pricing at the same time, perhaps paid for via the Oyster Card. Those that make little use of their cars could well find themselves better of at the end of the year than currently.

Similarly, discounts could be offered on less polluting, greener vehicles. Integrating congestion charging with the Oyster Card would allow people to make a direct calculation as to the costs and benefits of using the car versus other means of transport. Indeed, the mayor could go futher, promoting a London travel card (or a London travel account – cards could soon be superceded by smart phone accounts) for use on public transport, private cars, car clubs and even cabs and taxis.

The principle that we should pay more to travel at busier than quiet times, or more popular than less popular routes is already well established - notably on the railways. While the Congestion Zone covers less than 2 per cent of London's roads, it has been widely accepted, and demonstrated that road charging can be effective. And while congestion charging schemes have been rejected in referendums held in Edinburgh and Manchester they have passed the test of public opinion in other cities like Stockholm. The key seems to be to introduce the scheme first and once it is established and it has been tried and tested by the public, only then hold a vote on whether to remove it.

A Taxi enters the congestion charging zone. Photograph: Getty Images

Ben Rogers is the director of the Centre for London think tank, and the author of 10 Ideas for the New Mayor.

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Grandpa was ill and wasn’t keen on climbing the volcano – but we forced him up all the same

I squinted. Apart from a gleam of turquoise, the view was of one big cloud. Slowly the words started to form in my head. Just. Like. Scotland.

At first, Grandpa was sceptical about the volcano. “I used to be into that kind of thing,” he said, “but not now.” He did not mention that he was 88.

The guidebook to Indonesia – which he disdained – described how, once you got to the crater, the mist would rise to reveal a shimmering lake. His fellow travellers, my sister and I, often joked about our family’s tendency to declare everything to be “just like Scotland”. This was a living, breathing volcano. It would be nothing like Scotland.

But as Grandpa reminisced about his childhood in the Dutch East Indies, he began to warm to the idea. We set off at 7am and drove past villages with muddled terracotta roofs and rice paddies spread across the valleys like glimmering tables. We talked excitedly about our adventure. Then it began to rain. “Perhaps it will blow over,” I said to my sister, as the view from the windows turned into smears.

Our driver stopped at a car park. With remarkable efficiency, he opened the doors for us and drove away. The rain was like gunfire.

To get to the crater, we had to climb into an open-sided minibus where we sat shivering in our wet summer clothes. Grandpa coughed. It was a nasty cough, which seemed to be getting worse; we had been trying to persuade him to go to a pharmacy for days. Instead, we had persuaded him up a cold and wet mountain.

Five minutes passed, and the minibus didn’t budge. Then another bedraggled family squeezed in. I thought of all the would-be volcano tourists curled up in their hotels.

“Look,” I said to the attendant. “My grandfather is not well. Can we please start?”

He shook his head. “Not till all seats are full.” We exchanged a glance with the other family and paid for the empty seats. The driver set off immediately.

The minibus charged up a road through the jungle, bouncing from puddle to puddle. Grandpa pulled out his iPhone and took a selfie.

The summit was even colder, wetter, rainier and more unpleasant. We paid a small fortune to borrow an umbrella and splashed towards the lake. My sister stopped by a fence.

“Where is it?” I said.

“I think . . . this is it,” she replied.

I squinted. Apart from a gleam of turquoise, the view was of one big cloud. Slowly the words started to form in my head. Just. Like. Scotland.

I thought remorsefully of the guidebook, how I’d put my sightseeing greed before my grandfather’s health. Then I noticed the sign: “Danger! Do not approach the sulphur if you have breathing problems.”

Grandpa, still coughing, was holding the umbrella. He beckoned me to join him. I didn’t know it then, but when we made it back to the car, he would be the first to warm up and spend the journey back telling us stories of surviving the war.

But at that moment, in the dreich rain, he gave me some advice I won’t forget.

“If anyone tells you to go and see a volcano,” he said, “you can tell them to fuck off.” 

Julia Rampen is the editor of The Staggers, The New Statesman's online rolling politics blog. She was previously deputy editor at Mirror Money Online and has worked as a financial journalist for several trade magazines. 

This article first appeared in the 23 March 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump's permanent revolution