A third Heathrow will mean congestion, pollution and inconvenience. There is another way

A plane comes into land at Heathrow. Image: Getty.

There must be some credible reason why the government would back a plan to extend an overcrowded, polluting airport, entrenching the monopoly of a foreign owner, whilst demolishing historic villages in the process. But I’m struggling to find it.

The M25 is already a traffic jam around Heathrow at most times of the day, yet we’re told almost doubling passenger numbers won’t make matters worse. Some 100m vehicles flow between junctions 14 and 15 of the M25 every year – and we don’t think an extra 50 million passengers out of Heathrow will add to that?

Even before this extra traffic is pushed onto the road we can expect chaos as a new tunnel is dug to take the M25 beneath the new runway, because space is at such a premium.

Congestion, though, is the least of our worries. In the Aussie movie The Castle the Kerrigan family find that their makeshift home, teetering on the edge of Melbourne’s Tullamarine Airport, is threatened with demolition to make room for a new runway. “Tell ‘em they’re dreamin,” was the laconic war cry from Darryl Kerrigan, as the Aussie battlers take their case to the High Court.

Sound familiar?

Now, hundreds of Kerrigan families face a similar threat from Heathrow. The new north-west runway will see their homes and neighbourhood ripped apart. The village of Harmondsworth will be practically tarmacked over, and what remains will be so close to the airport perimeter that life will never be the same again. This parish, so old it’s featured in the Doomsday book, will become history. 

Then there’s the danger to the great crested newt. Don’t get me started on the newts.

Worse still, heaping extra traffic on Heathrow – taking it from 78m to 130m passengers a year – increases its monopoly over other London airports, seeing more profits repatriated back to its Spanish owners.

All in all, this “historic moment for the UK” spells disaster. Yet transport secretary Chris Grayling seems intent on extending the chaos on our railways onto our roads and airports.

The two reasons I have heard in favour of the Heathrow decision are both circular arguments. 

First, we’ve seen a lot of economic growth in the Thames Valley because of its proximity to Heathrow. That’s the claim. I suspect proximity to London is more likely the driving force, but if it’s the airport, then extending Gatwick could have a similar impact on growth to the south of London, rather than adding to congestion along the Thames corridor.


The second argument revolves around the importance of being a hub. Almost a third of passengers at Heathrow transit between flights. The more aircraft land. the more onward flights for passengers to choose from. If we don’t add these choices we’ll lose out to other, competing hubs, like Schiphol in Amsterdam. 

But if the traveller’s ultimate destination is outside the UK, who cares if they don’t fly via Heathrow? Transit passengers might buy a coffee and help keep a toilet cleaner in a job, but they’re also adding to air pollution and noise. Let Schiphol deal with them. The Spanish owners will lose a few quid, but that’s hardly our concern.

The same applies for travellers bound for the UK – do we care where they interconnect, so long as they get here and start spending? And their holiday will get off to a better start if they land practically anywhere in the UK other than Heathrow, with the possible exception of Luton.

Yet there is a plan that would solve the pollution, congestion and competition issues in one fell swoop, if only the government would listen. Alistair Lenczner, from engineering consultancy Expedition, suggests a high speed rail link, offering a 15 minute connection between the two airports. In fact, the proposal goes further, with HS4 Air linking to HS2 to the north and looping south of London to join HS1 in Ashford.  

A quarter hour journey time between the two airports would make transiting flights a possibility. Increasing Gatwick to the size of Heathrow today would mean each airport would compete for airlines, lowering landing rates and offering better value for customers. You’d assume there would be a greater variety of operators and destinations overall, increasing the competitiveness against foreign hubs, if we really see that as an important consideration.

Passengers could park at Gatwick or Heathrow, easing congestion on the M25 rather than adding to it. Businesses that want to be near international links can pay a premium to base themselves near Reading, or choose newly developing business parks from Crawley to Brighton – or at any point along the new HS4 Air route. And 2m people in West London wouldn’t suffer an increase air traffic noise. 

The idea of an extra runway at Heathrow has been on the cards for 30 years or more. In that time we’ve seen road traffic and air pollution go from bad to worse. Is piling on the numbers at one of the world’s busiest airports the best we can do?

If Chris Grayling really thinks the Heathrow extension plan is the most elegant solution for our future air travel demands, someone has to tell him he’s dreamin’.

Phil Dobbie is a freelance journalist, business podcaster and commentator. He presents Saturday nights from 10pm to 1am on LoveSport Radio in London.

 
 
 
 

The media scumbag’s route of choice: A personal history of London’s C2 bus

A C2 bus at Parliament Hill. Image: David Howard/Wikimedia Commons.

London’s C2 bus route, which runs from Parliament Hill, by Hampstead Heath, down to Conduit Street, just off Regent Street, is one of the bus routes recently earmarked for the chop. It has oft been noted that, of all the routes recently pencilled in for cancellation after a consultation late last year, it was the one most likely to survive, for the simple reason that it links liberal suburban north London with BBC Broadcasting House and Soho; it’s thus the route most likely to be used by people who can convince someone to let them report on its imminent demise.

So it would come as no surprise that former Guardian editor Alan Rusbridger took to the Camden New Journal when the consultation began, arguing that it would be a disservice to the local community to discontinue a route where you can always get a seat – seemingly missing the point that the fact you can always get a seat is not a great sign of the route’s usefulness.

It wasn’t always that way. When I left university in 2000, and moved from accommodation near college to up to a rented shared house in N6, the C2 was my bus. I commuted to Soho for sixteen years: for more than a decade from flats around the Swain’s Lane roundabout, and for five years from Kentish Town. While my place of work bounced around from Golden Square to Lexington Street to Great Marlborough, it was always the most convenient way to get to, and from, work; especially given the difference between bus and tube prices.

So when it comes to the C2 I’ve seen it, I’ve done it, and bought the bus pass. And by bus pass, I mean those little paper ones that still existed at the beginning of this century. Not just before contactless, but before Oyster cards.

More importantly, it was before London buses operated a single zone. There was an outer zone, and an inner zone, with different prices. To travel from one zone to another cost £1.30, meaning an all cash commute was £2.60, whereas a paper bus pass was £2.00. That made it worth your while to divert to an early opening newsagents on your way to the bus stop (GK, in my case), even if you only got two buses a day.

It’s a measure of how greatly London’s buses have improved over the last twenty years, since first brought under control of the mayoralty, that pretty much everything about this anecdotage, including the prices, seems faintly mad. But there’s more: back when I started getting that bus down to Stop N, literally at the very end of the route, the C2 used single decker buses with a single door. It’s an appalling design for use in a crowded city, which meant most of any journey was, for most passengers, spent fighting your way up and down the middle of the bus to find a seat, and then back again to get off; or – and this was more likely – fighting your way up the bus to get into standing space the driver insisted was there, before fighting your way, etc.

Such buses – and in my former life in the English Midlands I went to school on one of these buses every day – are perfectly functional where bus stops are infrequent and buses rarely standing room only. But running through Camden Town at rush hour, they’re wholly unfit for purpose.

A Citypacer. Image: RXUYDC/Wikimedia Commons.

It could have been worse. I didn’t know this at the time, but a few years before the C2 route had been run using Optare City Pacers. Those are, let us be frank, not really buses at all, but minibuses. That’s something the reveals the C2’s origins, as a hopper route to the west end largely intended for the daytime use of Gospel Oak’s pensioners in the years immediately before bus privatisation. (The C11 has a similar origin, taking the same constituency from Archway to England’s Lane.)

Once responsibility for London Buses was moved to the newly established mayoralty, things improved dramatically. Under Ken Livingstone it went double decker in 2005, and 24 hour in 2007. Under Boris Johnson it was extended from its once, and future, terminus of Conduit Street to Victoria Station, swallowing up the cancelled sections of the 8 bus; this extension was quietly disposed of a few years later, once it was clear no one would notice. (I did.)


In those years I must have taken a C2 the best part of ten thousand times; but for all the years when I wouldn’t have been able to live without the C2, times have reduced its utility, and not just for me. I’m now a 214 sort of guy: these days the top chunk of the C2 route is duplicated exactly by that other bus, which starts up in Highgate Village and, once it gets to Swain’s Lane, follows the same path until the fork of Kentish Town Road and Royal College Street, opposite the long defunct South Kentish Town tube station.

From a few hundred metres below that point, at Camden Gardens, stop C, the 88 starts. That duplicates the rest of the C2’s route, with the exception of the run down Albany Street and onto Great Portland, for much of which the C2 is the only bus.

So the C2, old friend that it is, is pretty redundant in the age of the hopper fare, which allows you to change buses without paying a second fare. That’s even more true now the C2’s otherwise un-serviced stops are being giving over to a re-routed 88, which will pick up the C2’s most northern leg, by not finishing at Camden Gardens anymore and instead going all the way to Parliament Hill Fields. Which will be nice for it.

All this, however, ignores the best reason for getting rid of the C2 (or rather for merging it with the 88, which is what’s actually happening): that first character. The letter. Who wants a bus route with a letter in front of it when even half the night buses don’t have the N anymore? It’s relic of the route’s aforementioned origins as a ‘Camdenhopper’.

That C is twenty five years past its own utility. It’s just untidy. City Metric hates that sort of thing. Get rid.