Should we remove all the traffic lights from our city centres?

The old enemy. Image: Getty.

They’re a ubiquitous presence in every urban landscape. They’ve launched a million student parties (red for coupled up, yellow for potentially available, green for guaranteed regret). And many traffic engineers believe that they are vital for maintaining safer roads, too.

But the popularity of the humble traffic light is starting to slide. They’re been linked to road rage, explosions, humankind’s declining sense of social responsibility, and, in recent years, have even started to turn on each other. So is it time to get rid of traffic lights altogether?

The first, gas-fuelled, traffic light was installed outside the Houses of Parliament in London in 1868. Within a month, it had dramatically uninstalled itself by exploding.  

Over 40 years later, a policeman called Lester Wire (yes, that’s his real name) developed the first electric traffic light in Salt Lake City, Utah. Wire’s invention must have sparked something (arf) because designers around the United States were soon clamouring to get in on the action (there was, apparently, not much fun to be had in the early 20th century). Soon cities across the US were bedecked with traffic lights that flashed, beeped, whistled and generally worked hard to raise the nation’s blood pressure.

Obviously, it’s not possible to blame all road rage on traffic lights (at least, not as long as Scott Mills is on Radio 1). But there is enough of a link that, in 2008, researchers developed “smart traffic lights”. This invention was prompted by studies which had found that incessant braking and accelerating caused a spike in road rage. Abrupt changes in speed, and uncertainty over when the lights would change, infuriated drivers and led to dangerous driving.


With this in mind, American and Romanian researchers developed talking traffic lights: a set of lights which would announce to drivers if they should be moving slower or braking. It’s a bit like having a backseat driver, but one which is peering into the front of your car, and is also a robot.

While their effectiveness is still up for debate, one city was impressed enough to install talking traffic lights in 20 locations around in 2015. Newcastle University collaborated teamed up with the city council to start trialling the lights. As Phil Blythe, the university’s professor of intelligent transport systems, explained to the International Business Times: "The system might advise a driver that if they travel at 24mph they will get the next four sets of traffic lights on green."

In other words, we’ve created a set of traffic lights to help us avoid traffic lights.

Legendary traffic engineer Hans Monderman once said: “The trouble with traffic engineers is that when there's a problem with a road, they always try to add something. To my mind, it's much better to remove things.” He believed that people are losing their capacity for socially responsible behaviour and that light-free roads were the answer.

By making road users more responsible for their driving decisions, Monderman hoped to reduce the modern driver’s dependency on the accelerator. Forcing drivers to slow down in order to examine their surroundings, rather than just because a light on a pole ordered them to, would, he believed, help create safer and more harmonious roads.

Monderman’s influence can be seen at the bottom of my road in Amsterdam, where an intersection used by car drivers, vans, lorries, cyclists and pedestrians is completely light-free.

The first few times I tried to use this crossing I ended up getting off my bike and pushing it across. The road was too big, and there were too many lanes (eight; 12 if you count the bike lanes) to keep track off. This was a built-up, inner-city neighbourhood: giving cars free reign to barrel through unchecked was surely low-budget population control, if not an outright declaration of war.

My neighbourhood, I later realized, is covered in these naked intersections. It took a few weeks for me to feel comfortable with all this nudity. It took another six months before I realised how much they’ve improved my behaviour as a cyclist.

I normally race towards green traffic lights, desperate to avoid facing down a red-eyed cyclops. If anyone gets in my way, either they or I will end up picking gravel out of our vital organs. But these traffic-light-free intersections make me slow down, look around, and clock the elderly man attempting to cross the road while clutching a priceless Ming vase. They make me a better cyclist and turn my neighbours into more cautious drivers.

So, traffic lights. They encourage road rage; they allow drivers to become less responsible in their driving; and hackers could one day take control of the things. Why do we need them again?

 
 
 
 

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.