Why are London cyclists so white, male and middle-class?
A fascinating study of why some Londoners cycle and others don’t illuminates cultural obstacles Boris Johnson’s cycling plans must overcome
Among the several good objectives of Boris Johnson’s
Vision for Cycling in London, produced in 2013, is an increase in the variety of Londoners who travel by bicycle. As Johnson himself puts it on page 5:
I want more women cycling, more older people cycling, more black and minority ethnic Londoners cycling, more cyclists of all social backgrounds – without which truly mass participation can never come.
He claims that such a diversification of the cycling demographic, building on what he calls the “admirable Lycra-wearers” and “enviable east Londoners on their fixed-gear bikes”, will be brought about by his “creating a variety of routes for the variety of cyclists I seek,” encompassing fast routes for “cyclists in a hurry” and quieter, side street ones for the more cautious. Is his optimism justified?
A
study by academics at the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine
(LSHTM) published in 2011, explores why in London “cycling is disproportionately an activity of affluent, white men” or, as Transport for London (TfL), has put it, why the London cyclist is “typically white, under 40, male, with medium to high household income.” Funded by TfL and NHS Camden, it examines in-depth interviews with 78 Londoners: women and men of assorted ethnicities, cultural backgrounds and occupations, some of them cyclists, some of them not and some of them thinking about taking cycling up.
One of its main findings concerns the congruence between being someone who cycles and an entire social identity bound up with class, ethnicity, values and aspirations. In other words,
London
cyclists were seen as being a certain sort of person: “Somebody who’s quite environmentally friendly, probably quite independent, maybe a bit of a leftie, vegetarian,” observed a woman called Michelle. Another participant, Julia, a cycling young professional, was very candid about these cultural associations and embraced them. “I mean, to be fair, it does make me feel smug, my friends joke that it’s very middle-class and they joke that it sort of fits with the lifestyle of gardening, listening to Radio 4, eating organic food…”
As the study points out, such accounts show that cycling “signifies a specifically bourgeois sensibility” that simply doesn’t resonate with many black and Asian Londoners. A Muslim woman called Jasmine said that riding a bicycle would, for her, be “socially unacceptable”. A group of Asian women thought the idea that they might cycle inherently “ridiculous”. A young, black professional, Leanne, indicated that for her, unlike white peers, being “a cyclist” would not signal high social status: “When you’ve made it, you buy a car, not a bicycle.” Another, Marvin, said he’d only consider cycling if he became “really poor”. He added that among black communities, cycling was seen as a fun or even deviant youth activity, rather than something for successful adults.
For several female participants in the study, being a cyclist – or choosing not to be one – was very much entangled with concerns and convictions about femininity, appearance and their inclusion in a highly visible minority transport culture – a sort of club. One, Rachel, new to cycling, described uncertainties about what to wear: “I swing between, should I go all in Lycra or should I go for a more girlie look.” Others recognized the dilemma but felt they handled it quite comfortably, and some fully embraced the cyclist look: “I’ve got the kit, I’m a cyclist, yeah.” There was also outright rejection: “The women that do cycle are probably more blokey than feminine.”
The common theme was that, one way or another, cycling entailed personal negotiations with notions of femininity, whether accepting them, challenging them or accommodating them. Something similar emerges in women’s observations about cycling and aggression. “The more immediate risks of the road, from the dangers of road traffic injury, were particularly salient for those considering cycling,” the study says. “Although not necessarily objectively greater for female cyclists, the meanings of protecting oneself against such risks were gendered, in terms of whether those risks were acknowledged, welcomed or disavowed.”
For example, a cyclist called Abigail said of other cyclists: “I do see those people and you can tell they’re professional cycle commuters because they adopt the other attitude that I think, almost, you can see in their faces - they’ve gone from feeling vulnerable to being aggressive to other people...” She was concerned that such an outlook was contagious, that being a cyclist in London “could actually change you to be an aggressive person.”
For two male cyclists, the opposite was true. “I think a lot of the time I’m cutting cars up, rather than the cars cutting me up,” says William. And then there’s Russ: “I’m a hardened cyclist. I won’t have people just cutting me up…I might consider myself a bit of, what they might call an urban warrior on a bike.” Not that the “warrior” attitude was wholly confined to men. “I kind of identify with people who cycle. I feel slightly warrior-like,” says Katrin. In the view of Molly, the very idea that cycling in London is inherently perilous should be challenged: “I don’t think cycling is dangerous, I think it’s an excuse ... I think it’s just about being assertive.”
These are just some of the rich insights the LSHTM study provides into the complex and varied reasons why some sorts of Londoners choose to cycle, others don’t and how cyclists see themselves and are seen by others. In theory, cycling in London can transcend social class, ethnicity and age. In practice, for now, it is very much the minority pursuit of affluent, young white males, and one, which, in the study’s words, “can offer a certain bourgeois distinction to those whose identities are not threatened by the possibility of poverty.”
Some cycling campaigners get very touchy when such inconvenient truths are pointed out. But they are vitally important to keep in mind when the mayor has committed close to £1bn to realizing his cycling plans and such a handsome sum could have been spent instead on, say, the night bus service, which would immediately benefit some of London’s poorest workers.
This is not to assert that the expenditure will not be justified. Improving conditions for cycling is a desirable objective for London, one which, if balanced sensitively with the equally desirable objectives of encouraging walking and (greener) bus use, can help to greatly improve London’s streets in all respects. It is a cheap form of transport, which is good for the health of individuals and for the urban environment. As the LSHTM study points out, it can also offer “the ultimate in autonomous, efficient travel” and signal female empowerment. It adds, in conclusion, that the challenge for public policy in London is to foster cycling for all, “rather than just those whose social identifies are commensurate with being ‘a cyclist’”. Johnson says his policy will achieve this. Its
outcomes are awaited
with interest.
Read the LSHTM in full
here.