Rachel is furious. She can’t get to work on the bus any more. Nor can she be sure of getting home. Stranded outside a supermarket, she called the council to she what happened to her bus. From the call centre she is told not to buy frozen goods any more. They will simply thaw while she waits.
She’s only one in a hall full of people angry about Wellington’s new bus system. We’re starting to learn some new phrases – posters at bus stops during Te Reo week teach us common phrases, ‘there is no bus’ and ‘the bus is full’.
Meanwhile those of us watching New Zealand’s progress towards zero carbon are almost lost for words. Its been eight years since Nissan introduced the Leaf, the forerunner in the move to electric cars, In the last three we’ve seen the used imports hit a crucial price point – a regular user can make one pay for itself in 3 or 4 years. Charge Net was created and now presents a thin but perfectly usable fast charging system across the country. The nation’s EV fleet rose to 6000 cars.
Now that Wellington’s zero carbon bus fleet of 60 trollies have gone, each providing transport for well over 100 people, we have taken a step back of the same magnitude. A plan to move to electric buses was attempted then abandoned before the trollies went away. Later it becomes clear that those buses were running on diesel anyway, and could only hope to be seen as progress in a country where electricity is made almost entirely from coal.
During this exercise we also learn that Wellington’s most exceptional feature is its hills, which are tough on wireless electric buses since they have to overcome the weight of batteries to climb them. Of those eventually promised to us, it seems unlikely many will see service above 150 metres, where trolley lines were created to solve the same problem. If they do make it into the hills they will damage the road surface (they weigh three tonnes without passengers) and spend some time each day out service as they recharge.
How was any of this allowed to happen? It turns out, the public transport planning is complex, and those engaged in it have to meet the needs of several masters at once.
Jarrett Walker, transport planner and author of the book ‘Human Transit’ points out the seven demands of public transportation. Without them the system simply winds up limited to servicing those who have no other option, the captive market.
– It takes me where I want to go
– It takes me when I want to go
– It is a good use of my time.
– It is a good use of my money
– It respects me
– I can trust it
– It gives me freedom to change my plans.
Sit through any of the recent public meetings and you can tick these bullet points over and over. The new system does not deliver on these requirements as well as the previous one. Another step backwards.
Walker makes some other observations that should sound familiar. One is that frequency, the number of times a bus runs on a particular line, is expensive. Run fewer buses, less often, servicing the same group of people, and the operating cost comes down. Typically this dwarfs the cost of capital and is part of the calculus of public transport. Introduce a double decker, for example, and you may avoid the cost of running a second bus.
If that saving can offset the impositions of the bus, then you’re on to a winner. But these taller buses can’t make it through tunnels linking the city to its most populous suburbs; they also see service on Brooklyn hill: a 200 metre climb where the added emissions and damage to roads create a separate cost.
The other parts of this calculus appear to have been forgotten entirely, along with any considerations around climate change. For a start, the issues around congestion in the city. Transport planners are familiar with ‘Schrodinger’s Road Space’ that turns thirteen lanes of traffic into three by replacing cars with buses and cycle lanes. The affect seems impossible but only because we think so much about the benefit of cars that we forget their price. A commuter’s space requirement is tiny until they get behind the wheel.
