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?

 
 
 
 

Wild boar are moving back to Genoa, and not everyone is pleased

A wild boar, c1933. Image: Getty.

Crossing the Ponte Gerolamo Serra in the Italian city of Genoa, I spotted a small crowd clustered by the river wall. I approached, intrigued, and peered over the wall to discover the subject of their delight: a sounder of eight wild boars – the adults sheltering from the heat in the undergrowth, while the juveniles foraged among the foliage that grows in the river bed during the dry summer months.

In any other city, such a sight might have been surprising. But in Italy, and particularly in the region of Liguria, where Genoa is located, the population of wild boars has been increasing at such a rapid rate that these incidents are now common. Across the country, it’s estimated that the population has risen from 600,000 to 1m over the past decade.

But while wild boars may look comically out of place trotting about the city, it’s actually a natural result of the way people have migrated – and the wars they have fought – over the course of recent history.

Making a comeback

A species native to Europe, the wild boar (or “cinghiale”, in Italian) largely disappeared from its historical territories during the 18th and 19th centuries. Their decline was widely attributed to the combined effects of habitat change, competition for space and resources and, of course, hunting.

Wild boars were a prized quarry, revered for their ferocity – and the danger involved in pursuing them. According to local folklore from the region of Liguria, the last truly wild boar was hunted and killed in 1814, in the province of Savona.

After an absence of more than a century, wild boar began to return to Liguria, and to the neighbouring region of Piedmont. A further influx occurred during World War I, when it’s believed that military activities in the south-east of France forced parts of the population back into Italy over the Alps.

Although hunting fraternities were quick to augment this fledgling population with wild boars transported from elsewhere, the return of the species was primarily due to natural causes. From the 1950s onwards, traditional agricultural practices were abandoned as more and more people moved from rural towns into the cities. This meant that large areas of formerly cultivated terraces and pastures were rapidly overgrown, fast becoming dense secondary woodlands.

A city gone wild

This spontaneous “rewilding” has become a controversial issue in the region. Many conservationists and environmental organisations consider the region’s return to a “wild state” a success. But others believe that the encroaching wilderness signals a loss of traditional woodland knowledge and a reduction of biodiversity, associated with the pastures and meadows.


The province of Genoa is among the areas most densely populated by wild boar in Italy, with an estimated 25 boar per 10km². Rewilding processes have brought woodlands to the city limits, blurring the boundary between rural and urban areas. The species has expanded beyond the hinterlands, colonising highly urbanised, densely populated city spaces in Genoa, drawn by the abundance of food waste created by humans.

In 2009, the infamous boar Pierino made his home at Righi, on the outskirts of Genoa, where he was routinely fed with focaccia by enthusiasts. Today, a family of wild boar call the Albergo dei Poveri – a historical hostel for the Genoese poor in the city centre – their home.

But while their antics are often recorded and shared with glee on social media, the threats posed by the presence of wild animals has become a preoccupation for the city’s municipal administration.

Boorish behaviour

Wild boar have been involved in a number of traffic accidents, and have proven to be particularly dangerous when with their young, attacking dogs and even people. The city council in Genoa has put forward many proposals to reduce the number of animals in the city, ranging from forced removals, to sterilisation, increased attention to waste disposal and approved hunts. About 90 wild boar were reportedly culled in 2018.

Needless to say, each of these measures has been hotly debated. Animal advocacy groups staunchly oppose the proposals, and sometimes obstruct the authorities’ attempts to take action, often sending patrols to care for the animals, and even give them names. But other residents are displeased with the animals’ presence in the city, and have consulted with the council on how to address the problems that they cause.

And so Genoa continues to grapple with thorny issues surrounding the presence of wild boar in the city, with the city authorities seeking to resolve a polemical issue that embroils the lives of animals and humans alike. So far, a collective, coherent and communally agreeable strategy has proven evasive; one that considers the need for public safety, hygiene and health with the ethical responsibilities towards to wild boar themselves.

Meanwhile, the animals themselves continue to lounge and forage beneath the Ponte Gerolamo Serra and elsewhere, bringing a little of the wilderness into the city.

The Conversation

Robert Hearn, Assistant Professor in Human Geography, University of Nottingham.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.