The government’s latest push to criminalise “death by dangerous cycling,” tucked into the sweeping new Criminal Justice Bill, might sound like common sense.
We’ve all been there: crossing the road at a green light and almost being hit by a cyclist who thinks traffic lights don’t apply to them; or seeing groups of teenagers riding in a horizontal line, or cyclists texting while riding, no hands on the handlebars.
Cyclists are not without fault, and cycling can be dangerous — after all, you’re riding an object that can travel at 50 mph, or more.
But scratch beneath the surface, and this proposed law looks more and more like a political manoeuvre that distracts from a far graver threat (and one that would be much more expensive to fix): the danger built into our car-dominated infrastructure system.
This piece of law was sparked by an incident in 2016 involving Kim Briggs, a pedestrian who was struck by a cyclist, Charlie Alliston, in central London. Alliston was riding a bike which was illegal on public roads. He collided with Kim Briggs as she was crossing the road, and Briggs died from her injuries several days later.
Alliston was cleared of manslaughter but convicted of "wanton and furious driving," an offence under the 1861 Offences Against the Person Act, legislation originally designed for horse-drawn carriages.
Many questioned the fact that there wasn’t a specific offence for causing death by dangerous cycling, but Alliston was still convicted.
The same can’t be said about the driver who almost killed me a year ago. But I’ll come to that.
This fits the playbook of reactionary rule-making and populist politics
This new offence, which would carry a penalty of up to 14 years in prison, is being introduced despite data showing fatalities caused by cyclists are actually pretty rare. Extremely rare, if we compare them to those caused by motorists. Around five people are killed every day on average in the UK by motor vehicles. And this includes pedestrians and cyclists.
Yet, instead of dealing with the problem at the source, it’s cyclists who are being cast as villains.
Just over a year ago I was cycling home from work in Hackney when a driver hit me. I woke up in hospital, having suffered a severe concussion, a deep cut on my forehead that could have killed me had it been mere millimetres more to the side, and a long road to recovery. The driver was never found, and the police closed the case in a matter of hours.
This obviously extends beyond personal experience, but political agendas like this fail to acknowledge one simple thing: pedestrians and cyclists are on the same side, trying to navigate a system that was not built for us.
This fits the playbook of reactionary rule-making and populist politics, catering more to winning public consent than making a real impact. Because realistically, it won’t — other than feeding the narrative that cycling is inherently dangerous.
And the perception that cycling is dangerous directly undermines the government’s commitments to promote cycling and walking, a flagship policy of this Labour government and many local authorities across London.
Cyclists have an image problem. We’re not only unfairly painted as reckless, most of the time unjustly, but also perceived as disruptive, self-righteous, and, by some, as “wokerati.” But most of us are just doing one thing: trying to get to work, to school, to the shops, and back home safely.
Cycling should be central to a safer, greener, more liveable city, which is what this government says it wants. But instead of investing in proper infrastructure, we keep scapegoating the very people who are part of the solution.
Claudia Schergna is a freelance journalist
