Dubai is paying people not to break the law

Drivers offered prizes for good behaviour.

It's hardly common practice for authorities to offer prize money for staying within the limits of the law - but this is exactly what's happening in Dubai.

Drivers who go 12 months without a traffic violation will now become eligible for prizes - including cars. There are about one million driving licences registered in Dubai, and only 500 prizes, and therefore, as the head of Dubai Police traffic department Maj Gen Al Zaffin told The National, "there might need to be a selection process based on the number of people who will be eligible”. Might. But as atrocious as driving in Dubai might currently be, there are high hopes for the scheme:

"[W]e are hoping it will reduce accidents by 10 to 20 per cent in the long run,” he said.

It's an odd, nudge-policy-like thing for Dubai authorities to do - but a quick scout for relevant studies throws up some evidence that supports the idea.

One study in the US found that speeding was virtually eliminated amongst drivers who were offered $25  a week not to exceed a speed limit.

Here's a summary, via stuff.co.nz:

The study placed a GPS tracker in eight cars and loaned to 50 different drivers for a week. A control group of 10 drove the cars as they did every day and their speed was monitored.

Another 20 were warned every time they exceeded the speed limit.

The final 20 drivers were also warned when they exceeded the speed limit but additionally told they would get a $25 reward at the end of the week if they didn't exceed the speed limit. They lost three cents for travelling between 3-8 miles per hour (5-13kmh) over the limit and six cents for infringements above that level, the npr.org website reports. Any speeding tickets they accrued stood as an additional penalty.

Each time the driver completed a trip, they were given a report showing any penalties they had accrued.

According to the researchers, the very clear (if small) penalties and rewards system made motorists determined to "win the game" - watching their driving far more carefully.

Insurance companies already operate a rewards system for careful drivers - but this is the first time a goverment has. It will be interesting to see if it works.

Cars vs camels in Dubai. Photograph: Getty Images
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Why do the words “soup, swoop, loop de loop” come to mind every time I lift a spoon to my lips?

It’s all thanks to Barry and Anita.

A while ago I was lending a friend the keys to our house. We keep spare keys in a ceramic pot I was given years ago by someone who made it while on an art-school pottery course. “That’s er . . . quite challenging,” the friend said of the pot.

“Is it?” I replied. “I’d stopped noticing how ugly it is.”

“Then it’s a grunty,” she said.

“A what?” I asked.

“A grunty. It’s something you have in your house that’s hideous and useless but you’ve stopped noticing it completely, so it’s effectively invisible.”

I was much taken with this idea and realised that as well as “grunties” there are also “gruntyisms”: things you say or do, though the reason why you say or do them has long since been forgotten. For example, every time we drink soup my wife and I say the same thing, uttered in a strange monotone: we say, “Soup, swoop, loop de loop.” How we came to say “soup, swoop, loop de loop” came about like this.

For a married couple, the years between your mid-thirties and your late forties might be seen as the decade of the bad dinner party. You’re no longer looking for a partner, so the hormonal urge to visit crowded bars has receded, but you are still full of energy so you don’t want to stay in at night, either. Instead, you go to dinner parties attended by other couples you don’t necessarily like that much.

One such couple were called Barry and Anita. Every time we ate at their house Barry would make soup, and when serving it he would invariably say, “There we are: soup, swoop, loop de loop.” After the dinner party, as soon as we were in the minicab going home, me and Linda would start drunkenly talking about what an arse Barry was, saying to each other, in a high-pitched, mocking imitation of his voice: “Please do have some more of this delicious soup, swoop, loop de loop.” Then we’d collapse against each other laughing, convincing the Algerian or Bengali taxi driver once again of the impenetrability and corruption of Western society.

Pretty soon whenever we had soup at home, Linda and I would say to each other, “Soup, swoop, loop de loop,” at first still ridiculing Barry, but eventually we forgot why we were saying it and it became part of the private language every couple develop, employed long after we’d gratefully ceased having soupy dinners with Barry and Anita.

In the early Nineties we had an exchange student staying with us for a year, a Maori girl from the Cook Islands in the southern Pacific. When she returned home she took the expression “soup, swoop, loop de loop” with her and spread it among her extended family, until finally the phrase appeared in an anthropological dissertation: “ ‘Soup swoop, loop de loop.’ Shamanistic Incantations in Rarotongan Food Preparation Rituals” – University of Topeka, 2001. 

This article first appeared in the 21 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The English Revolt