Horde of the Dings: a Highway Code for pedestrians…?

The usual rights and privileges of citizenship do not apply here… a great wall surrounds this place, and most of what goes on within the wall is unknown to those outside it. What follows is a message from over the wall.

– Hugh Gregory Gallagher: By Trust Betrayed: Patients, Physicians and the License to Kill in the Third Reich

Last year, I mugged up intensively on the Highway Code – there’s an app for it, as well, you know… – as part of taking an advanced driving course; and, although pedestrians do feature in it (although I doubt any have read it who have not also learned to drive), I sometimes – as a partially deaf human-being with a stick: who seems to find himself a moving obstacle (an impediment; a stumbling-block; a remora), as far as many apparently abled-bodied people are concerned (especially in busy places, such as supermarkets) – wish there were similar codified guidance (requiring a thorough, probing examination, before you’re allowed out in public without having to wear a bright-flashing light on your head – which is then reinstituted, when you’ve committed several offences, and gained too many points on your ‘walking licence’…) for those of an ambulatory nature.

Sorry: that was a very long sentence – packed with clauses and sub-clauses (and parentheses) – so feel free to go and put the kettle on (or fire up your De’Longhi coffee machine, if you’re that way inclined…) whilst you re-read it!

Are you sitting comfortably? Then let me begin.

One of the key recommendations in the pedestrian-related bit of the existing Highway Code states that you should “Always show due care and consideration for others…” – and it’s this that I wish to expand on.

“You say the ring is dangerous, far more dangerous than I guess. In what way?”

     “In many ways,” answered the wizard. “It is far more powerful than I ever dared to think at first, so powerful that in the end it would utterly overcome anyone of mortal race who possessed it. It would possess him.”

– JRR Tolkien: The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

Somehow, instead of having to wear magical jewellery on my hand, all I need to do to become invisible to other pedestrians is have my walking stick in my hand, and be doing my habitual impersonation of a slightly inebriated penguin. Suddenly, people – who, in all likelihood, have just reflexively given way to their peers – cannot see me, and (therefore?) do not move aside.

The sight of damage, of something gone wrong, induces an excited disturbance in such onlookers. Sometimes there is a turning away, a fear and a hostility, a sometimes spoken wish that such sights should be hidden from public view; there is a fear of catching the damage….

– Valerie Sinason: Mental Handicap and the Human Condition

In fact, I have to agree with my eighty-odd-year-old mum – who uses a crutch – and say that it’s difficult not to become convinced that people are deliberately blocking your path: as they avoid eye-contact at all costs, and just plough on in your direction. How a disabled person who walks painfully (and obviously, to others, painfully slowly…) is swiftly meant to manoeuvre out of the way – or ‘Disapparate’ (although the only “distinctive cracking or popping sound” is likely to be my spine or splintering walking stick) – is beyond me; but it seems to be part of the unwritten constitution of society (that I, as an enfeebled outlier, have not been instructed in): especially as embodied in the routine institutional prejudice doled out to those who are ‘different’ (whether through gender, race, class, or capacity).

After my recent disability hate crime run-in (‘limp-in’?) – which is now under official Police investigation: so I will (and can) not say much more – perhaps, you may think, I have become a tad paranoid. But I actually started drafting this post a year or so ago: and I have found little, in the intervening time, that does anything but confirm my suspicions.

I consider ‘Stratford-upon-Heaven’ my home town: but, when it is busy, and filled with people soaking up the sun (I will not blame the tourists: all are equally liable, it seems…), it is more akin to Stratford-upon-Hell; and a part of me starts to meretriciously envy those in mobility scooters who appear to see no harm (revenge, perhaps?) in scything their way up Bridge Street, with metaphorical blades attached, Boudica-style, to the hubs of their wheels. How I wish I were Moses, able to part the throng for an easy passage. But it is not to be.

But why is it so? Is it really “prejudice”; discrimination; a lack of tolerance? It would seem – sadly – that it is: that disability, invisibility, mobility, incivility and hostility all combine (egged on by the Government’s élitist ‘scrounger’ propaganda and deep-seated, well-fuelled hate) to form an obstacle course, in turn, for those who wend their way through life either on a divergent, less-taken path; or are themselves out of the ordinary, anomalous: ripe, tasty cheeses amid the insipid crumbling chalk of society.

But, then, even amongst what you might assume is the solidarity of the ‘differently abled’, there are stratas of distinction and dispute – and the following tale of abuse echoes my own frequent, repetitive experiences (not that I would claim to “look good” or “be under the age of 45” – not quite…):

I am shocked and disappointed that people have shouted at me for parking in a disabled bay when I have a valid badge, walk with a stick, stopping frequently because of pain, or I’m in my wheelchair. So why would people have something to say you may ask? Because I make the effort to look good! Yes, that’s correct, you can’t look half decent, be under the age of 45 and be disabled, apparently! It seems that without me even being out of the car people have made an assumption and feel they have the right to voice their opinion to me in whatever way they feel. Astonishing! Apparently I don’t really look (face wise) disabled!

– S Howell: Disabled Motoring UK (May 2015)

When you are not safe amongst your own kind, then the only lesson I feel I can learn from all this (I’m a very slow study (as well as walker)), and the less-than-pitiful regard that my infirmity provokes (rather than the sympathy – and empathy – I had gullibly, initially expected), is that everyone (else) feels themselves superior to – and more deserving than – those they should know themselves to be – in reality – merely equal to; that there are both real and perceived hierarchies in every aspect of our lives. As a cripple, I am the lowest of the low; and should know my place. I contribute nothing; but take everything. I deserve no better.

The targeting of disabled people has happened while society has looked the other way. Disability hate crime was the invisible crime that people looked straight through because they could not recognise it for what it was. Now it is coming into focus, and we can ignore it no longer.

     Because the crime is, at the same time, both ancient and modern, it has been difficult for us to accept that it exists. Disabled people have been maliciously stereotyped for centuries. This has meant that they have never been accepted as equal citizens even when such equality is enshrined in law. So when they are attacked, they are seen, on some level, as ‘fair game’ or as ‘asking for it’ – and many disabled people, tragically, even internalise those feelings.

     Despite all the best intentions of the disability rights movement, disabled citizens are mostly not seen as ordinary people wanting to live ordinary lives.

– Katharine Quarmby: Scapegoat: How We Are Failing Disabled People

¶

What is therefore required is not “a Highway Code for pedestrians” as I originally posited: but just plain, common or garden civility and mutual respect – that “due care and consideration for others…” – and everywhere… not just on our streets.

However (he said, cynically), altruism and empathy – especially in this arena – have been so browbeaten out of us, that Tamworths will sprout feathers before this happens. Life is nasty, brutish and short: and, it seems, so are many of those living it. More pity them. I am not willing to be subsumed by such passive, malevolent tosh, though: and so, tomorrow, walking wobbly, and leaning on a big stick, I will venture out into the world again: forearmed… and three-legged…. Wizard!

You cannot pass…. I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass.

Tares and vetches still have charms…

Before I continue… I must stress that I – along with all the other villagers I have spoken to – would not want to deprive others of living in this wonderful place. We know that we have to grow. It is just that the proposed [Gladman] development is too large, too sudden, too concentrated; would remove a crucial part of our heritage; and would be damaging for future generations, because of the lack of regard it has for the negative impact it will have on the earth we live on.

– The Bard of Tysoe: My submission to the Planning Inspectorate…

Every day, a quick, three-question survey pops up on my iPhone, courtesy of YouGov, covering a wide variety of topics. The last of yesterday’s questions was:

Assuming that family, friends, [and] money issues were taken care [of] in a satisfactory manner, in which of the following two ways would you choose to live the next ten years of your life… In the frenzied excitement of Manhatten [sic] [or] In the calm solitude of a Tibetan Monastry [sic]?

As you can probably guess, (after wondering if this had been proofread) I selected the latter; and then found myself in a reasonably-sized minority – 35% of the 4,150 people that responded.

This was a “Forced choice” question, though: so there was no alternative response. However, I believe that it does indicate a propensity for city living, and an accompanying move away from the rural: a trend which is borne out in statistics (globally, as well as nationally); and that has been in motion for a couple of centuries – at least in the UK.

When Shakespeare was alive, there was quite a strong divide between town and country – a state of affairs that probably hadn’t moved on much from Roman times: when the majority of native Britons carried on farming (largely being self-sufficient), whilst the invaders established – or expanded – towns to centralize administration and house their garrisons, containing market places, temples and baths.

This probably didn’t change much until the Industrial Revolution; and it was still quite unusual, even when Joseph Ashby was a child, for a villager to travel far from their place of birth, unless they were visiting their nearest market town to sell their produce, or having fun – or looking for employment – at the annual fair.

Shakespeare bridged this divide, though: as Stratford-upon-Avon was then quite an agrarian town; and “His works contain many references to wild flowers, animals and birds, rural characters and country customs” – such as poaching!

For instance, in As You Like It, when asked by countryside Corin how he likes “this shepherd’s life”, townie Touchstone replies…

Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good life; but in respect that it is a shepherd’s life, it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I like it very well; but in respect that it is private, it is a very vile life. Now in respect it is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As it is a spare life (look you) it fits my humour well; but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much against my stomach.

…and then curses the shepherd – “Truly, thou art damn’d, like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side” – “For not being at court” (as if this were the countryside’s major – and probably one and only – fault…).

However, Corin – who, tacitly, revels in his assured superiority – refuses to play Touchstone’s game – “You have too courtly a wit for me, I’ll rest…” – but not without first plainly defending his own bucolic lifestyle:

Those that are good manners at the court are as ridiculous in the country as the behaviour of the country is most mockable at the court. You told me you salute not at the court but you kiss your hands; that courtesy would be uncleanly if courtiers were shepherds…. Sir, I am a true labourer: I earn that I eat, get that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man’s happiness, glad of other men’s good, content with my harm, and the greatest of my pride is to see my ewes graze and my lambs suck.

One of the advantages of city-living, besides having “more plenty in it” – and, yes, I admit that there are some good points (even though I have described myself as a “country boy” on more than one occasion…) – is that people living there, on average, produce a smaller carbon footprint – probably because they are closer to the facilities and work they access; are in higher-density housing; and benefit from the urban heat island effect – although it has been posited that these metropolitan residents may not live as long as us backwater bumpkins….

One of the obvious disadvantages, though, is crime. Not that it isn’t present in the countryside – just that most of it happens outside the home; and tends to involve theft of property, and not violence to people (or mice…).

In a recent blog for NFU Mutual, Tim Price, a rural affairs specialist, wrote that:

As anyone who lives in the countryside will tell you, rural life has its own risks and rewards. And, as someone who grew up in the Yorkshire Dales, I will happily put up with a lack of public transport and higher energy costs for the privilege of bringing-up my family in a close-knit community with little traffic and wide open spaces on our doorstep.

That being said, however, I am not blind to the fact that crime can and does happen in the countryside and whilst it is generally lower than recorded crime in urban areas, rural homes and businesses are by no means immune to theft.

That “lack of public transport” is obviously one of the causes of our larger carbon footprint (coupled with the more frequent journeys and longer distances made by car); as well as the “higher energy costs” – both ecological and financial – associated with having to heat our homes with oil.

However, even though we have to travel further, according to a study by NFU Mutual, people living in rural areas seem to be more optimistic, and – like Corin the shepherd – more content with their quality of life than people in cities and towns. Tim Price, though, strikes a note of caution, for those not in awe of the oppidan way of living, and bucking the general trend:

Many people choose to escape the bustling city life for the tranquility of the countryside. However, for young people the lack of rural jobs paying a living wage and high transport and housing costs continue to make it hard for them to live in the countryside, and we urge the Government to support this group to prevent country homes being affordable only for second homeowners and city commuters.

It makes sense then – surely? – that the majority of housing (whether “affordable” or not) should be concentrated where the majority of people live, and wish to live: nearer major cities, where the majority of employment opportunities are – e.g. Coventry and Birmingham. And that even entertaining the thought of Stratford-upon-Avon absorbing some of these places’ “overspill” should be wiped from the planners’ minds.

It is no wonder, therefore, that Stratford-on-Avon District Council’s excessive “target of 10,800 new homes in the district in the 20-year period from 2011 to 2031… is now being questioned by the Council [sic] to Protect Rural England (CPRE) which claims changed population forecasts mean the figure should be 6,000 at most.”