It’s fair to say that, for all the government promises of a “cycling revolution”, not a vast amount has happened in recent years to improve the lot of cyclists on British roads. Campaigns, pestering MPs, direct action – nothing seems to have worked.

So how about just taking legal action under equalities legislation, forcing local authorities to provide proper cycle infrastructure?

OK, it’s probably not going to happen soon, even if you could find somebody rich and patient enough to fund a fairly speculative test case.

But the idea, floated by Rachel Aldred, a sociologist and transport expert at the University of Westminster, is nonetheless fascinating as it highlights one of the lesser-aired arguments for a more cycle- and walking-friendly world: the issue of social justice.

Cars are too often seen by politicians as universal. A good example is last week’s hugely dispiriting Daily Mirror interview by the new Labour transport spokesman, Michael Dugher, where he repeatedly said “road users” where he meant only vehicle drivers. And let’s not even get into his promises to end the “war on motorists”.

But the 2011 census shows that a quarter of households in England and Wales have no car or van. The cruel paradox is that the more likely people are to be plagued by the deadly smog and noise pollution that comes with mass car use, the less likely they are to actually use one – 56% of inner Londoners don’t own a vehicle.

Numerous other studies on “environmental inequality” have noted that poorer people, who own the fewest cars, often live by the busiest roads.

An extension to this is the idea that the forms of transport arguably most accessible to all income groups – walking and cycling – are the ones least catered for by public infrastructure.

Writing on the issue, Aldred notes that these inequalities also take in gender. While in countries like the Netherlands about as many women as men get about by bike, in England a fairly macho cycling culture, which often necessitates mixing it with fast-moving cars, partly explains why little more than a quarter of bike commuters are female.

Larger-scale cycling tends to bring more equality – the split is more or less even in, say Cambridge – but elsewhere it’s men all the way. Aldred unearths the amazing statistic that of Burnley’s 397 regular cycle commuters at the time of the 2011 census, a mere 24 were female.

Similar statistics show older people, black and minority ethnic people and disabled people (more on the latter group below) are all more at risk to be, as Aldred puts it, “excluded from cycling”.

All these groups, she notes, share so-called “protected characteristics” under the 2010 Equality Act, meaning public bodies must take steps to meet their needs. This can be far-reaching – one example of indirect sex discrimination from the act’s own guidance is the hypothetical closure of an entrance ramp to flats, which would disproportionately affect women with pushchairs.

Such notions, Aldred says, could be extended to cycling: as women are disproportionately likely to be making trips with children, infrastructure that’s unsuitable for riding with kids could be seen as discriminatory, like walking environments that exclude pushchairs.

An extra element, newly extracted from the census data by Aldred, concerns cycling and disability.

This is often an ignored area, but the statistics show that 5.1% of cycle commuters in England and Wales are people whose day-to-day activities are limited in some way – that is to say they have some form of disability. While this isn’t much below the total proportion of commuters with disabilities, at 6.8%, there is a huge variation between areas for bike commuting among those with disabilities, ranging from 0.2% to 25.9%.

Aldred says this is a very little-researched area:



The results confirm that transport policy and research should cover planning for inclusive cycling, as it addresses issues of public transport accessibility and provision for disabled car users. This means studying engineering constraints (like a handcycle’s turning radius), but also research asking people with different disabilities what they would need to cycle.

The charity Wheels for Wellbeing notes that the census could well underplay the extent of disabled cycling as many people who use trikes or handcycles might well be listed in the category of “other” rather than under “bicycles”.

The charity’s director, Isabelle Clement, said:

We find that most people believe disabled people don’t cycle. This census data puts this misconception to rest. Many disabled people cycle with impairments which are not visible as they whiz past. In fact, many people use their cycle as a mobility aid. It does not make them less disabled and it is crucial that transport planners, cycle infrastructure designers etc. take the needs of disabled cyclists into account. I handcycle to work. I am lucky to be able to take my cycle all the way into my office but many who cycle non-standard cycles are stopped from cycling by the lack of secure cycle parking at their destination for their bike, trike or handcycle, not by their impairment.

So, there you have it. A compelling social justice argument to re-shape Britain’s road infrastructure. Is there anyone out there with a big bank balance and a buccaneering spirit when it comes to legal challenges?