Here’s the case for a national bus strategy

The good old days: a publicity shot from Mutiny on the Buses. Image: Allstar/Anglo-EMI/StudioCanal.

The Labour MP for Cambridge, on the buses.

Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn was widely mocked by commentators earlier this year when he used PMQs to draw attention to problems faced by bus passengers. He had hit a nerve, however: cuts to council budgets have left rural services in tatters, and in towns and cities a toxic combination of rising fares and slow and unreliable journeys has led to falling passenger numbers which feeds the spiral of decline. Yet for millions, just getting to work on time and getting home in the evening depends on a reliable bus service.

 Problems on the railways lead to widespread media coverage, lengthy reports, reviews and general hand-wringing. But what happens when there are problems on our much more widely-used, but rarely reported, buses? The recent intervention from the chief executive of a private bus operator, Go-Ahead, calling for a national strategy for buses may just mark a turning-point.

The call for a national bus strategy is not new. In 2016, when the most recent bus legislation was discussed in Parliament, Labour proposed adding a clause to the Bill to mandate the Transport Secretary to issue a national strategy for local bus services, setting out the objectives, targets and funding provisions for buses over the next 10 years and providing sector cohesion.

And despite 30 years of bus privatisation, almost half of bus industry funding still comes from the public purse. Total public support for buses accounted for 41 per cent of overall industry funding in 2014-15; in 2010-11 that figure was even higher at 46.3 per cent. Despite savage cuts to council budgets, some money still funds socially necessary supported services on routes not served commercially by private operators. The government just about still passes funds to local authorities and makes it their duty to reimburse bus operators for trips made by concessionary pass-holders, including the statutory older persons’ and disabled passengers’ scheme.


However, back in 2016, despite the public funds going into the sector, the government rejected these calls for a national bus strategy. It rightly publishes national investment strategies for road and rail, as well as for cycling and walking, but claimed that an equivalent for buses would “not help local authorities to address issues relevant to them and their area”.

Conservative MPs claimed that bus profits are “shared with the public through shareholder dividends”. It is doubtful whether many bus passengers have shareholdings in bus companies, or feel that their councils are well resourced enough to battle the bus companies when it comes to service provision. Recent figures from the Campaign for Better Transport estimate that 3,347 bus services have been reduced or withdrawn across England and Wales since 2010. 

Despite its exclusion of a national bus strategy, the 2017 Bus Services Act had some positive consequences. Areas with metro mayors can now reregulate their local bus services through a franchising process similar to that used in London. It remains a complicated and lengthy process, but Greater Manchester is leading the way and other areas are watching progress closely.

With transport problems contributing to air pollution as well as congestion in most cities, councils are desperate to achieve more efficient, customer-friendly joined-up transport systems, with simple and good value ticketing. After 30 years of bus privatisation, the market has failed to achieve that; we now need a new approach.  

Today, even private bus companies are calling for change. Two weekends ago, Go Ahead published its submission to the future of bus services inquiry by the Transport Select Committee. Their call for a national bus strategy cites the need for better allocation of road space, a national strategy to support electric buses and charging, and reflects on the effect of austerity on local authority bus spending cuts. 

Put together, could we be about to see a renaissance in buses? That may be a touch optimistic. Forty years ago, the TV sit-com On the Buses was part of the fabric of everyday British life, Blakey's catch-phrases universally recognisable. For the majority of people in Britain, the ritual of waiting hopefully for the bus that forever seems to be late is still a part of their routine.

But for the decision-makers on the train or in their cars, the bus remains a curious mystery, yet another invisible wall in a fatally divided society. Tackling those divisions means properly understanding just how important the bus is to the lives so many people – which is why, as a start, it is time to have a national bus strategy.

Daniel Zeichner is Labour MP for Cambridge, and a member of the Transport Select Committee

 
 
 
 

The mountain in North Wales that tried to stop the UK’s blackout

Elidir Fawr, the mountain in question. Image: Jem Collins.

Last Friday, the UK’s National Grid turned to mush. Not the official term perhaps, but an accurate one after nearly one million people were left without power across the country, with hundreds more stranded at train stations – or even on trains (which isn’t nearly as fun as it might immediately sound). 

Traffic lights stopped working, back-up power failed in hospitals, and business secretary Andrea Leadsom launched an investigation into exactly what happened. So far though, the long and short of it is that a gas-fired power station in Bedfordshire failed just before 5 o’clock, followed just two minutes later by Hornsea offshore wind farm. 

However, amid the resulting chaos and inevitable search to find someone to blame for the outage, a set of mountains (yes, mountains) in North Wales were working extremely hard to keep the lights on.

From the outside, Elidir Fawr, doesn’t scream power generation. Sitting across from the slightly better known Mount Snowdon, it actually seems quite passive. After all, it is a mountain, and the last slate quarry in the area closed in 1969.

At a push, you’d probably guess the buildings at the base of the mountain were something to do with the area’s industrial past, mostly thanks to the blasting scars on its side, as I did when I first walked past last Saturday. 

But, buried deep into Elidir Fawr is the ability to generate an astounding 1,728 megawatts of electricity – enough to power 2.5 million homes, more than the entire population of the Liverpool region. And the plant is capable of running for five hours.

Dubbed by locals at the ‘Electric Mountain’, Dinorwig Power Station, is made up of 16km of underground tunnels (complete with their own traffic light system), in an excavation which could easily house St Paul’s Cathedral.

Instead, it’s home to six reversible pumps/turbines which are capable of reaching full capacity in just 16 seconds. Which is probably best, as Londoners would miss the view.

‘A Back-Up Facility for The National Grid’

And, just as it often is, the Electric Mountain was called into action on Friday. A spokesperson for First Hydro Company, which owns the generators at Dinorwig, and the slightly smaller Ffestiniog, both in Snowdonia, confirmed that last Friday they’d been asked to start generating by the National Grid.

But just how does a mountain help to ease the effects of a blackout? Or as it’s more regularly used, when there’s a surge in demand for electricity – most commonly when we all pop the kettle on at half-time during the World Cup, scientifically known as TV pick-up.

The answer lies in the lakes at both the top and bottom of Elidir Fawr. Marchlyn Mawr, at the top of the mountain, houses an incredible 7 million tonnes of water, which can be fed down through the mountain to the lake at the bottom, Llyn Peris, generating electricity as it goes.


“Pumped storage technology enables dynamic response electricity production – ofering a critical back-up facility during periods of mismatched supply and demand on the national grid system,” First Hydro Company explains.

The tech works essentially the same way as conventional hydro power – or if you want to be retro, a spruced up waterwheel. When the plant releases water from the upper reservoir, as well as having gravity on their side (the lakes are half a kilometre apart vertically) the water shafts become smaller and smaller, further ramping up the pressure. 

This, in turn, spins the turbines which are linked to the generators, with valves regulating the water flow. Unlike traditional UK power stations, which can take hours to get to full capacity, at Dinorwig it’s a matter of 16 seconds from a cold start, or as little as five if the plant is on standby.

And, designed with the UK’s 50hz frequency in mind, the generator is also built to shut off quickly and avoid overloading the network. Despite the immense water pressure, the valves are able to close off the supply within just 20 seconds. 

At night, the same thing simply happens in reverse, as low-cost, surplus energy from the grid is used to pump the water back up to where it came from, ready for another day of hectic TV scheduling. Or blackouts, take your pick.

Completed in 1984, the power station was the product of a decade of work, and the largest civil engineering project commissioned at the time – and it remains one of Europe’s largest manmade caverns. Not that you’d know it from the outside. And really, if we’ve learned anything from this, it’s that looks can be deceiving, and that mountains can actually be really damn good at making electricity. 

Jem Collins is a digital journalist and editor whose work focuses on human rights, rural stories and careers. She’s the founder and editor of Journo Resources, and you can also find her tweeting @Jem_Collins.