THE LAW-ABIDING MOTORIST.

Evening Star, Issue 21130, 16 June 1932, Page 8

THE LAW-ABIDING MOTORIST.

There are many people who very seriously doubt whether Henry Ford was a world benefactor. There are a few who unshakably believe he was the very reverse. On the whole these latter, oven though pacifists, would slightly prefer tho inventor of gunpow'der to tho inventor of motor cars as a contributor to world happiness and longevity. In ‘ My Life and Work ’ Mr Ford records: “I built a steam car that ran. It had a kerosene-heated boiler and it developed plenty of power and a neat control. But tho boiler was dangerous.” Tho internals of what Mr Ford and others have since evolved from that insidious beginning in the early eighties of last century cannot be classed as dangerous. The modern motor vehicle is not in the habit of blowing up—though, especially in the case of the motor bicycle, the utmost is done by means of acoustics to convey the impression that life is one long explosion or series of them. As in the missionary hymn so familiar in our Sunday school days, it seems to be a case of “ only man is vile.” The instrument which oar manufacturers place at his disposal is undoubtedly a triumph of applied science. As Mr Ford says, it has a neat control. But unfortunately there is the human element, tho personal equation, or whatever one likes to call the response of tho man at the wheel to ordinary obligations and sudden emergencies. We are not proposing to criticise motorists in globo. But we are convinced that for a proportion of them the most suitable vehicle is a wheelbarrow, to be employed on the lines recommended by Mr Weller, senior, as exercise for “ some of them ’ere lazy shepherds,” of whom the Rev. Mr Stiggins was the case in point. Associated with motoring there is another kind of control than that spoken of by Mr Ford. Failing universal selfcontrol on the part of drivers—and for other reasons, too, of course—urban civilisation has found it advisable to institute traffic control. This varies greatly in different countries; also it varies considerably in different towns in the same country. In Loudon the chief result appears to bo interminable traffic blocks; in Paris congestion is avoided by hair-raising perfonmnues. The outstanding feature of Dunedin's

! .system appears to be resemblance to I 1 the curate’s egg—excellent in parts. At the intersection in the heart of the town there is a decorous obedience to skilled direction which may prove misleading to the visitor who goes on unsuspectingly to negotiate other crossings. In fact, many visitors to this town unhesitatingly declare that, on the whole, our streets are the most hazardous of any they have traversed anywhere. One could quote the case of a well-known industrialist, with interests in all our main centres, who was being driven through Dunedin by his son, unfamiliar with our town. He gave the prior warning, “ This is not Auckland or Wellington; here they have their own rules.” Asked to outline them, he briefly replied “ Rafferty’s.” Confirmation came at the next street intersection, despite the son’s ultra-care at the wheel; for a car coming out of the side street, speeding and silent, caused a collision. That is what one may call a major instance; though there are quite enough of them. The minor instances of lawlessness, trivial perhaps as units, are multiplied to a degree which also warrants mention, mostly in the interests of the poor pedestrian. There is, for example, the turning out of Lower High street into Cumberland street going north. This turn has been so scientifically banked by the city engineer that there is no need for a car to slacken; nor does it ever. But why worry about foot traffic on crossings ? To tell the truth, those in authority do not worry. Traffic inspectors have been given authority, but not the means to exercise it except in respect of stationary vehicles—and it is not these which usually do the damage or cause the heart-flutter. This defect was pointed out by a recent visitor. Paying the visitor’s customary left-handed compliment to our traffic vagaries, he asked in the local Press what chance an inspector on foot had to bring to book the wheeled offender capable of at least forty miles an hour. It is a pertinent question. For control of our streets there is needed patrol of our streets by officers mounted on motor bicycles. This is the more essential because in the matter of our traffic so many established bad habits have to bo unlearned before they can be replaced by good habits. Undeniably one of the bad habits is excessive speeding, not only over intersections. In this connection it is almost with dismay that we observe the announcement of two measured miles 1 along Cumberland street, from Manor place to the Gardens. It is for the purpose of speedometer testing. The phrase may be interpreted in two ways, so far as grammar goes. We fear that the same thing may happen in actual practice.