Reverse Pedalling
Glen Newey
I was walking along the Prinsengracht in Amsterdam’s inner canal belt when a woman whizzed past on a bike. She was perhaps in her fifties, and presumably, like most English visitors, on the chuckle-gum trail. I knew she was English because of the way she screamed at nobody in particular as she zipped by: ‘They’ve given me a bike with no fucking brakes!’
This is unlikely. Dutch bikes do have brakes: it’s just that Dutch cyclists don’t use them much. Many cycles have no hand-operated brakes, which can alarm the uninitiated. They brake by reverse-pedalling. The major danger cycling poses is not to cyclists, but by them, to the poor bastards shambling by on the sidewalk. And ‘sidewalk’ is the word, since pedestrians find themselves squeezed between the wall, or abandoned bikes, and the fat riband of roseate tarmac reserved to cyclists.
Outside Amsterdam’s Centraal Station the three-storey bike park is always jammed to the gunwales; most towns have fietsenkelder, subterranean sarcophagi housing rows of bikes like dead souls awaiting judgment. Parents cart their offspring around in plywood mini-boats bolted to the front of their Batavuses. There are prone bikes, supine bikes, tandems configured in series and in parallel, wacky two-wheel bolides like outsize cigar tubes, and eight-seater charabanc pedalos, aimed at sloshed stag and hen partiers, who sit side-on to their trajectory. Schiphol airport even has pedal-powered phone rechargers so that cyclists, bereft of their mounts, can OCD-ishly pump away when there’s nobody to run over.
Like any aggressive raptor species, cyclists colonise the surrounding space. Unlike cars or scooters (which are also allowed to use the cycle lanes), they bring pedestrians a whispering death whose advent is heralded only by the shriek of their back-pedalling brakes. One night in Rotterdam I was nearly chopped in two, vertically, by a speeding, lightless roadster; he seemed to think it was my fault. It’s a mentality thing. The Dutch media harp on constantly about cyclists’ rights, as though they’re downtrodden rather than top dogs. Greenwashing panders to their self-image as crusaders in the cause of planetary salvation, and justifies them in maiming anyone who errs onto their preserve.
There is an upside. Since cycling is central to life here rather than an escape from it, no one dons special regalia. Netherlanders are thus spared the eyesores that disfigure Britain’s weekend roads, where pelotons of paunchy mouse-botherers live the dream shrink-wrapped from neck to kneecap in lycra, maillot jaune and all, as if Bradley Wiggins had donated his wardrobe to the Michelin man.
Comments
I certainly got a chuckle -- from the coinage, I mean.
Don't be coy, what happened? In the absence of information to the contrary I'm going to speculate that you stepped into the road without looking. So it was your fault. Have you used your increasing dutch skills to ask locals what they think of cyclists? You'd probably find that they're used to looking out for bikes and that they think your cyclist hatred is a bit boring.
"Greenwashing panders to their self-image as crusaders in the cause of planetary salvation, and justifies them in maiming anyone who errs onto their preserve."
What's your evidence for believing that cyclists (in the Netherlands or elsewhere) see themselves in this way? And do you have statistics on how many "maiming" incidents they cause?
If Glen cares to share with us his view that "Greenwashing [by the Dutch media] panders to [Dutch cyclists'] self-image as crusaders in the cause of planetary salvation, and justifies them in maiming anyone who errs onto their preserve", it's only fair to ask for analysis and evidence, rather than anecdote - especially when the anecdote was a bit sketchy.
Have a safe journey.
For the record, the plywood boxes you refer to are not generally associated with the 'Batavus' brand, which is better known for standard personal bikes, rather as Raleigh used to be in the UK. The box bikes are promoted mainly by bakfiets.nl.
My mainland Europe cycling is in Copenhagen, a kind of well-mannered Amsterdam when it comes to the bike culture. The Danes are truly skilful – phone calls are readily made and answered while rolling along (I do it too), a beer in one hand and a fag in the other can be seen in the summer months, and children, or shopping, or dogs or girlfriends can be pushed around in Christiania-style cargo bikes.
I asked if the Rector of the University of Copenhagen had an official car, like a UK Vice-Chancellor. “No” came the answer. “Why does he need one? He’s got a bike.”
Such bikes in turn are incompatible -- so far as I'm concerned -- with anything but flat or near-flat terrain.
I live in Vancouver, which is not as hilly as you'd think from the pictures (at least not my bit of it -- North Vancouver, a separate municipality which has most of the mountains, is another story). But it has enough relief to be getting on with. As it happens, I have a Dutch bike, which I bought for the comfortable upright stance; but, being made for export, it has a 7-speed rear hub, and hence hand-operated brakes (which are also enclosed in the hubs, and hence rainproof. Vancouver is at least as rainy as you'd think, and I won't even start on North Van).
Some of the younger followers of fashion hereabouts ("hipsters," some call them: a term of pointless derision, for my money) ride single-gear bikes ("fixies"), like their counterparts in Brooklyn, which I'm told is nearly as flat as Amsterdam. I usually have little to say about fashion -- it's (almost) all the same to me -- but this one, I'd describe as just silly.
I believe the basic problem with cyclists is that they are the only major road users who are uninsured, and therefore (mostly) lack any training whatsoever. Yes, I think there should be cycling licences, issued at about age 12-14 after obligatory training throughout one’s school years. I think helmets should be made compulsory and earphones banned. And unless you’re six years old or younger, get off the effing pavement.
Worse though is the fact that delivery drivers on their scooters and motorbikes often use the sidewalks, rather than driving on the road. I don't know if it's actually any more dangerous to be hit by one of these rather than a push bike, since at least on the sidewalk the motorised ones probably go slower. But it's certainly scarier to round a corner and find yourself fairly narrowly missing one at least every other day.
One might equally ask how many cyclist injuries or fatalities are due to pedestrians. And then go on to demand that pedestrians be required to have insurance and take a test to have their feet licensed. Not quite so stupid as it may sound -- pedestrians are unpredictable because, unlike any vehicle with momentum, they can take it into their heads to stop dead, make complete change in direction and even go into reverse.
The one pedestrian fatality attributed to a cyclist that I know of occurred in Aylesbury about five years ago. A girl fell over and hit her head on the curb. It was quite a cause celebre, because anti-cyclist comment in the media (and there was a lot) took up the cyclist's warning call before the accident, "I'm not going to stop", as typical cyclist arrogance. I would have thought it showed rather that the girl and her friends were 'playing chicken' with the cyclist. So too the police may have thought -- they did not prosecute.
This is not to say that walking in the vicinity of fast-moving cyclists is pleasant: it is not, and it is worth asking why cyclists and pedestrians should find themselves in such proximity, and especially in the Netherlands.
Although often cited as a model for the rest of the world to follow with respect to promoting cycling, the Netherlands cycle network comes at a heavy price: cyclists are by default banned from roads with a cycle path alongside, however unsatisfactory that path may be. Try riding on the road there (I have) and you'll quickly attract the ire of passing motorists, expressed in prolonged bursts of the klaxon and gutteral threats.
No, as the cyclist, you must wend the pavé as it twines around every bus-stop and garage, while the motorists enjoy conventionally bituminous first class travel a couple of metres to your left. What misery! No wonder the cyclists of the Netherlands are in such ill-humour, and so ready to vent their anger on the weakest victims they can find.
The system in the Netherlands is a Fordist triumph, which sets pedestrians and cyclists in conflict with each other, while ignoring the plank in the eye that is motor domination of public space.
NB: a rear wheel brake operated by reverse pedalling is usually denominated "a coaster brake" in English.