There is talk of dropping speed limits in suburban and school areas. Photo / File
OPINION
When reducing the speed limits was proposed for Sumner in Christchurch, it was the talk of the village. It was a solution to a problem that didn’t exist, and another example of the powers-that-be treating us like infants. “It’s moronic”, I agreed with my neighbour, although almost certainly usingmore colourful language.
Then, when the new 20km/h and 30km/h signs replaced those reading 50km/h, something unusual happened. Yip, vehicle traffic slowed, but far more curious than that, the community instantly changed its mind, me included. The lower speed limit was brilliant.
The positive outcome from reducing the speed was something I hadn’t considered, and it has nothing to do with greater safety – although there is something in that, too.
What made the lower speeds so good was how it changed the feel of the place by making it more practical. Sumner is a seaside community, with a long road running parallel to the beach and another road that runs through the cluster of shops and cafes. It’s a quiet place that transforms during the weekends – particularly in the warmer months – to be a bustling hub for cars, pedestrians and swaths of cyclists dipped in Lycra.
People regularly criss-cross the streets, often with a surfboard tucked under one arm, or with a toddler in tow heading for an icecream. All of that getting around was immediately made simpler. All of a sudden the cars made room for others to more easily move about.
When heading off for a run, a swim or popping down to the supermarket, skipping across the street was now a breeze. If this doesn’t sound like much to you, I don’t blame you for your scepticism. I may have felt the same way, but it’s actually transformative. It’s often the little things that make life more pleasing.
But it’s not just about those walking or cycling who benefit, being in a car is actually better, too. Merging into traffic from side streets is much easier when the speed of other traffic is reduced. Pulling out on to the main road now means I seldom have to wait.
Again, it’s a small thing, but nevertheless I’ve been surprised by how much I enjoy that. We have lost nothing, but gained what feels like a lot.
I was a volunteer firefighter for 14 years in Sumner, and we had to go to numerous car crashes that were far from pleasant. I recall one where a car hit a pedestrian and the injuries – and the groans of the patient – were horrible. But, in fairness, without an open road, we weren’t one of the many fire stations dominated by dealing with frightful car accidents.
This is a big problem in many places. New Zealand’s roads create plenty of fatalities and heartache. Nearly 400 people died on New Zealand roads last year, and the count has become a national obsession on holiday weekends. Yet despite that attention, we have seemingly come to accept these deaths as normal and inevitable.
The Government is, however, giving it significant focus – I would have said they were taking it seriously, but who can take seriously a strategy called the Road to Zero? Zero deaths? Really? That’s as realistic as me having a gym policy called the Road to Schwarzenegger.
Nevertheless, we all must concede that speed is a significant contributing element to our road death toll. I mean, it’s pretty hard to argue with. Likewise, apparently, it’s hard to object to the financial considerations.
Wellington City Council recently proposed reducing speed limits in a number of areas, and the economic forecasting said the move would return $7.70 for every dollar spent doing so.
Like many, though, I’m rather inured to the terrible data around the death toll, and I don’t have sufficient economic knowledge to critique the cost-benefit elements at anything but an elementary level.