A third Heathrow runway 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.

 
 
 
 

What it's been like living in one of the few places that never locked down

People enjoy sunny weather in Tantolunden park in Stockholm on May 30, 2020, amid the novel coronavirus pandemic. (Henrik Montgomery/TT News Agency/AFP via Getty Images)

While most of the Western world was confined to their homes for the better part of two months this spring, my friends and I in Stockholm continued hanging out. In stark contrast to most other places, we went to restaurants (occasionally, outside when possible), to one another’s houses (in our yards when possible), and even sent our kids to school. As the rest of the world opens up again, not much will change in Stockholm.

As an American expat living in the Swedish capital, I was initially angry at Sweden’s response to the Covid-19 pandemic. In my home country, early outbreaks in locations such as Seattle, New York City and the San Francisco Bay Area led to strict rules that were soon mirrored in many other states and cities. The Swedish strategy, meanwhile, boiled down mostly to recommendations: If possible, work from home; avoid unnecessary travel within the country; engage in social distancing; and if you’re above 70, stay home. I felt that, in the face of a global pandemic, a country known for its generous welfare policies – that took such good care of its citizens – wasn’t doing its part to protect us.

My friends and I are mostly expats with young families who, early on, pulled our children out of school against official policy. (Schools here only closed for those 16 and over.) We eagerly waited to hear what further action our current country would take. Surely a country known for its progressive social policies would take fast, decisive action to protect its citizens?

The regulations that were put into place in Sweden amounted to restricting public gatherings to no more than 50 people (reduced from 500, which concert halls skirted by restricting entry to 499), limiting restaurants to table service only, and no visiting retirement homes. People here did take the work-from-home guidelines to heart – no one I knew was going in to work. But bars and restaurants were full. My Instagram feed was a highlight reel of acquaintances clinking champagne flutes at the city’s major clubs and restaurants.

After the first few weeks, I slowly started meeting up with friends again. I sent my kids back to school, where they intentionally spent most of the day outdoors and drop-offs were restricted to outside only (parents weren’t allowed to enter the building). I was careful to take precautions like bringing hand sanitizer to playgrounds and wiping my hands after opening and closing the gate to school. Hardly anyone wore masks to the grocery shop or inside stores – the few times I’ve seen people wearing them I’ve done a double take. One busy Friday night in late April at the local supermarket there was a line out the door and someone regulating the number of customers allowed inside at the same time. I took a photo and sent it to my family in the US saying “Sweden finally catching up with the rest of the world!” (I haven’t seen entry to that store being regulated since.)

When I spoke to Swedish friends about the strategy many agreed with the relaxed approach, mentioning that other countries’ draconian measures would be unnecessary in Sweden. A recent poll showed that just 11% of people in Sweden felt they did not trust state epidemiologist Anders Tegnell, who is leading the strategy. In this country, the onus was placed on citizens themselves to follow recommendations. It's about personal judgement and individual responsibility within a framework that rested on mutual trust, rather than top-down control. Swedes’ high level of interpersonal trust and trust in authority was often cited in the press as the characteristic enabling the relaxed Swedish strategy in tackling the virus, as opposed to social distancing becoming a matter of surveillance and policing like in Spain or Italy, where any nonessential socializing was forbidden.

In early May, Sweden's ambassador to the US Karin Ulrika Olofsdotter said in an interview with the Washington Post that some media outlets made it look “like everyone in Sweden is out drinking and partying,” she said. “That is not the case.” But that was certainly how it felt to me. According to research by Esteban Ortiz-Ospina and Max Roser in 2016, in countries such as Norway, Sweden and Finland, more than 60% of respondents in the World Value Survey think that people can be trusted. And in the other extreme, in countries such as Colombia, Brazil, Ecuador and Peru, less than 10% think that this is the case.


Of course, many places in the US also took a similarly relaxed approach to tackling the pandemic, with conservative lawmakers and anti-lockdown activists citing Sweden as taking the right approach. Sweden, rarely finding cheerleaders among conservative US circles, suddenly stood as an example to follow. But since then, places such as Arizona, Texas and Florida have all seen significant spikes in cases following reopenings and are being deemed the new epicentres of the virus – while Sweden’s numbers have stabilised. According to some reports, the death toll in Sweden is one of the highest in the world per capita, but the total number of Swedish deaths remains at just above 5,000, compared to over 120,000 in the US, over 43,000 in the UK, over 28,000 in Spain and over 34,000 in Italy. The mortality rate in Sweden and the number of new intensive care cases in the country declined in the last week and contagion rates here are now “stable” according to the WHO.

Although it didn’t always feel like it at the time, Sweden issued clear guidance from the beginning, with the expectation that people would choose to follow it. It certainly was my experience that everyone I knew stopped going into the office and started working from home. William Hanage, an associate professor of epidemiology at Harvard’s School of Public Health, attributed Sweden’s slowing of the virus to implementing guidance early on. “Sweden’s policy is unusual in that it took a much less stringent approach to preventing transmission," he says, "but interestingly it implemented those measures at a very early stage in the pandemic, before large amounts of community spread had occurred.”

Now I go outside and all too often realise I’ve left my hand sanitiser at home. I even met a friend for lunch outdoors at a busy cafe one particularly sunny day, and another indoors one Friday night for dinner. In May I had a birthday bash in my garden with a dozen or so friends and we ended up at the local bar. I always felt guilty after, as if I’d done something wrong that I couldn’t tell my family in Baltimore about. When I watched international news or spoke to family back home I would feel a certain cognitive dissonance between my own seemingly low-risk reality and what I knew to be happening in the rest of the world. My family in the US calls me skeptically questioning why I’ve had people over in my garden, or been out to eat. I can’t explain the lack of logic that permits an entire city’s citizens to operate life as normal in the midst of a global pandemic. But Stockholm has become a bubble of exactly this.

Being relatively young and healthy, I’m not so worried about getting sick. Even though young and healthy people have gotten seriously ill, there haven’t been any reported cases at my kids’ or any of my friends’ kids’ schools. Nobody I know in Stockholm knows has gotten sick, allowing me to feel a certain distance from it. But my husband’s parents are in their mid-70s and weren’t able to see their grandchildren for two months save for a few visits to their hallway, where we wave and blow kisses to them standing at the door.

I’ve been grateful – but also felt a sense of guilt for – my freedom here. When there are no hard and fast rules about how to act, it’s easy to constantly question yourself: Is it really okay to be outside, sitting at this full cafe? Is it okay to invite a few friends over for a birthday? Is it okay to send my kids to school? These questions have surely gone through minds around the world in the past several weeks, and now it’s clear that that behaviour had dire consequences in some cities and not others.

While Swedish social media at times suggests an endless friend-filled party at summer homes and popular hangouts, the reality here is a balancing act between personal judgement and the freedom to continue life as normal. Self-regulation is what it comes down to in Sweden, anyway.

Elysha Krupp is a writer and editor currently living in Stockholm.