Could burying the M32 solve Bristol’s pollution problem?

The M32 in Bristol. Image: Dun Holm/Wikipedia Commons.

The world may have possibly found a solution to climate change in an unexpected place: the west of England metro mayoral race. It seems that Lesley Mansell, the Labour candidate, let slip what could be a universally applicable method for stopping motorway emissions.

“You could potentially put the M32 underground and then reuse the space on top,” Mansell said at a hustings event held last month by the Bristol Post. “It might seem like a wild idea, but sometimes those off-the-wall ideas can have some positive outcomes. It would be much better if you have got the traffic underground, as we wouldn’t have the carbon going into the atmosphere.”

Of course, it’s a terrible idea. Mansell is possibly correct that the move would create extra space, and she’s possibly correct that wild ideas can work out really well. It’s just that last point where the idea starts to fall apart, as tunnels don’t possess any carbon-destroying abilities.

“[Carbon dioxide] would not be removed by a road tunnel and would consequently emerge into the local atmosphere from the ends of the tunnel,” says Roy M. Harrison, professor at the University of Birmingham’s School of Geography, Earth & Environmental Sciences. There  are many actions we can take to fight climate change, but burying one of the country’s shortest motorways is not one of them.

The M32. Image: Open Street Map.

The motorway is something of a local frustration. Built in 1966, it stretches just 4.4 miles from Bristol’s city centre to the M4 at junction 19. Bristol City Council has tried before to convert it to an A-road, but to no avail. The M32 even has its own entry on, which documents Britain’s most ridiculous motorways.

Oddly enough, the city council has not ruled out Mansell’s idea. A spokesperson told the Bristol Post that a new congestion task group will be launched soon, aimed at exploring ways of how to improve transport in the local area.

“No decisions or firm plans have been made at this very early stage,” the spokesperson said.

If the task group opts to build a tunnel, for whatever reason, it wouldn’t stop pollution per se, but it would help shape the escaping pollutants. Ventilation shafts would be needed to maintain a somewhat breathable quality of air inside the tunnel. Because of this, building a tunnel would essentially concentrate emissions around a set number of extraction points, rather than allowing them to freely disperse into the atmosphere.

“You could probably build a tunnel with ventilation shafts that suck the air out and have it scrubbed of pollutants,” says James Lee, professor at the University of York’s National Centre for Atmospheric Science. “But I would imagine this would be a very expensive option.”

A tunnel could, in limited circumstances, stop certain emissions from entering the atmosphere. That’s because particles are created from three different sources on cars: combustion, brake wear, and tyre wear. The tunnel would not stop the first kind from leaving, due to their gaseous nature; but the other two could stick to the tunnel walls.

“The reduction in particle loading because of adhesion to the tunnel surface wouldn’t be a particularly effective control technology,” said James Longhurst, professor of environmental science at the University of the West of England.

But it would be wrong to say that city planners never consider tunnels as a method of maintaining acceptable air quality levels. If building a new road would otherwise push an area past national or European requirements for individual pollutants, placing it underground allows designers to concentrate emissions through the shafts, towards areas where the quality is less of a concern.

This is less of an issue with the M32. Bristol’s Air Quality Management Area, a designated zone that local authorities monitor to ensure they meet pollutant targets, only covers a small section of the motorway. The city council is more concerned about the amount of pollution around the city centre, so using a tunnel to manage air quality would do little to help in the areas where it’s needed most.

“The idea of a tunnel is not something one should remove from one’s thinking,” says Longhurst. “It’s just that in the case of the M32, the cost would be very substantial.”

So yes, in very limited circumstances a tunnel can help with air quality management – but no, they don’t stop carbon emissions.

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The ATM is 50. Here’s how a hole in the wall changed the world

The olden days. Image Lloyds Banking Group Archives & Museum.

Next time you withdraw money from a hole in the wall, consider singing a rendition of happy birthday. For today, the Automated Teller Machine (or ATM) celebrates its half century.

Fifty years ago, the first cash machine was put to work at the Enfield branch of Barclays Bank in London. Two days later, a Swedish device known as the Bankomat was in operation in Uppsala. And a couple of weeks after that, another one built by Chubb and Smith Industries was inaugurated in London by Westminster Bank (today part of RBS Group).

These events fired the starting gun for today’s self-service banking culture – long before the widespread acceptance of debit and credit cards. The success of the cash machine enabled people to make impromptu purchases, spend more money on weekend and evening leisure, and demand banking services when and where they wanted them. The infrastructure, systems and knowledge they spawned also enabled bankers to offer their customers point of sale terminals, and telephone and internet banking.

There was substantial media attention when these “robot cashiers” were launched. Banks promised their customers that the cash machine would liberate them from the shackles of business hours and banking at a single branch. But customers had to learn how to use – and remember – a PIN, perform a self-service transaction and trust a machine with their money.

People take these things for granted today, but when cash machines first appeared many had never before been in contact with advanced electronics.

And the system was far from perfect. Despite widespread demand, only bank customers considered to have “better credit” were offered the service. The early machines were also clunky, heavy (and dangerous) to move, insecure, unreliable, and seldom conveniently located.

Indeed, unlike today’s machines, the first ATMs could do only one thing: dispense a fixed amount of cash when activated by a paper token or bespoke plastic card issued to customers at retail branches during business hours. Once used, tokens would be stored by the machine so that branch staff could retrieve them and debit the appropriate accounts. The plastic cards, meanwhile, would have to be sent back to the customer by post. Needless to say, it took banks and technology companies years to agree common standards and finally deliver on their promise of 24/7 access to cash.

The globalisation effect

Estimates by RBR London concur with my research, suggesting that by 1970, there were still fewer than 1,500 of the machines around the world, concentrated in Europe, North America and Japan. But there were 40,000 by 1980 and a million by 2000.

A number of factors made this ATM explosion possible. First, sharing locations created more transaction volume at individual ATMs. This gave incentives for small and medium-sized financial institutions to invest in this technology. At one point, for instance, there were some 200 shared ATM networks in the US and 80 shared networks in Japan.

They also became more popular once banks digitised their records, allowing the machines to perform a host of other tasks, such as bank transfers, balance requests and bill payments. Over the last five decades, a huge number of people have made the shift away from the cash economy and into the banking system. Consequently, ATMs became a key way of avoiding congestion at branches.

ATM design began to accommodate people with visual and mobility disabilities, too. And in recent decades, many countries have allowed non-bank companies, known as Independent ATM Deployers (IAD) to operate machines. The IAD were key to populating non-bank locations such as corner shops, petrol stations and casinos.

Indeed, while a large bank in the UK might own 4,000 devices and one in the US as many as 12,000, Cardtronics, the largest IAD, manages a fleet of 230,000 ATMs in 11 countries.

Bank to the future

The ATM has remained a relevant and convenient self-service channel for the last half century – and its history is one of invention and re-invention, evolution rather than revolution.

Self-service banking and ATMs continue to evolve. Instead of PIN authentication, some ATMS now use “tap and go” contactless payment technology using bank cards and mobile phones. Meanwhile, ATMs in Poland and Japan have used biometric recognition, which can identify a customer’s iris, fingerprint or voice, for some time, while banks in other countries are considering them.

So it’s a good time to consider what the history of cash dispensers can teach us. The ATM was not the result of a eureka moment of a single middle-aged man in a bath or garage, but from active collaboration between various groups of bankers and engineers to solve the significant challenges of a changing world. It took two decades for the ATM to mature and gain widespread, worldwide acceptance, but today there are 3.5m ATMs with another 500,000 expected by 2020.

Research I am currently undertaking suggests that ATMs may have reached saturation point in some Western countries. However, research by the ATM Industry Association suggests there is strong demand for them in China, India and the Middle East. In fact, while in the West people tend to use them for three self-service functions (cash withdrawal, balance enquiries, and purchasing mobile phone airtime), Chinese customers consumers regularly use them for as many as 100 different tasks.

Taken for granted?

Interestingly, people in most urban areas around the world tend to interact with the same five ATMs. But they shouldn’t be taken for granted. In many countries in Africa, Asia and South America, they offer services to millions of people otherwise excluded from the banking sector.

In most developed counties, meanwhile, the retail branch and the ATM are the only two channels over which financial institutions have 100 per cent control. This is important when you need to verify the authenticity of your customer. Banks do not control the make and model of their customers’ smart phones, tablets or personal computers, which are vulnerable to hacking and fraud. While ATMs are targeted by thieves, mass cybernetic attacks on them have yet to materialise.

The ConversationI am often asked whether the advent of a cashless, digital economy heralds the end of the ATM. My response is that while the world might do away with cash and call ATMs something else, the revolution of automated self-service banking that began 50 years ago is here to stay.

Bernardo Batiz-Lazo is professor of business history and bank management at Bangor University.

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.