Which London Underground line is the fastest?

Winter is coming on the Metropolitan line. Quickly. Well, quite quickly. We're not really sure. Image: Ed Webster

The average London Underground user's need for speed is a phenomenon as remarkable as the notion of shoving steam trains underground in the first place. Dog-eat-dog capitalism in its truest form, the cavalier, arge-barge willingness of Tube users to do anything they can to arrive at their destination 0.45 seconds earlier is formidable. 

But escalator jousting can only get you so far in this world. What you really need to know is which Tube line is the fastest. 

This, one would imagine, would be a simple case of looking at TfL's official figures and forever remaining content that your dinner party knowledge is a cut above everyone else's. But TfL remains coy about the speed of its services. The official website gives a figure for the average speed on the London Underground – 20.5mph, or 33kph – but no more detail than that.

To make any serious estimation of the fastest Tube line, then, we must look to other sources. 

There are two useful bits of information we do have – how long the tracks that comprise each line are, and how long it generally takes to do the whole thing in one go. 

To take one of the simple, branch-free lines as an example, the Jubilee runs between Stanmore and Stratford, along a total 22.5 miles of track. If you log onto TfL's journey planner, shove it a short time into the future so it can't account for any live service disruptions, and go, it'll tell you that the journey takes 57 minutes. 

TfL's not a liar: she keeps receipts. Image: TfL.

Do the maths, and that’ll tell you that (in theory) the Jubilee line’s overall average speed is 23.7mph.

In theory you can follow that line of inquiry for each line, accounting for the spurious branches of lines like the Central, Northern, Piccadilly, Circle, District and Metropolitan, and come up with a rough estimate for the average speed of the line based on how long it takes to get from one end to the other. 

Helpfully, someone else by the name of Michael McHugh has done that before now, and came up with this bar chart to show the results.

Mmmmm, data. Image: Michael McHugh.

The Central line is allegedly fastest, the Victoria and Jubilee are second and third fastest, and the Circle languishes at the bottom of the table. 

But it's hardly that illuminating. Some lines have stops closer together, and others have a habit of dithering in certain stations for a while along the way (think lots of District line trains in Earl's Court). 

What we do have is some rather patchy indications of where on the network the tube goes especially fast.

The longest gap between two stations is on the north-western end of the Metropolitan line, where the gap between Chesham and Chalfont & Latimer is 3.9 miles. It’s on this part of the network that some of the Tube’s true lovers – its anorak admirers – have gone out and measured speeds with amateur GPS devices.

As the network is above ground at this point (as it is for approximately 60 per cent of the entire London Underground system, ironically), you get pretty good signal, so you can clock up the speed that the train is travelling at.

With the old A-stock trains (the ones recently retired when the shiny, walk-through S7/S8 trains were introduced on the Hammersmith & City, District, Circle and Metropolitan lines), speeds of around 70mph have been allegedly recorded in running service – the allegedly is important, though. None of this is official test conditions, and it’s mostly the handiwork of a bloke spending a Saturday afternoon as God intended.

The old A-stock train, here near Chorleywood station. Image: Antje.

Disclaimer having been said, that’s an impressive speed, and it’s likely that this is the fastest part of the network. When you’ve got 3.9miles of track to play with, you can bounce along quite merrily before you have to slow down for the next station.

What we don’t have that many of are figures for the new trains, the S7 and S8 stock. Being new and shiny, the assumption might be that these trains can go faster, but in reality the opposite is true. The S-stock may benefit from faster acceleration than the A-stock trains, at 2.9mph per second; but the top speed is 8mph down on the older models, down to 62mph.

Looking at the maximum speeds that the rolling stock themselves are capable of is a useful tool. The Victoria line’s 2009 stock is capable of 50mph, while the Jubilee line’s 1996 stock can do 62mph, like the new S-stock trains.

Acceleration, acceleration, acceleration - an alternative Blair slogan. Image: Matt Buck.

The Northern line’s 1995 stock is theoretically capable of 62mph too, as is the Central and Waterloo & City line’s 1992 stock, but in practice this isn’t the case. The Northern line is deliberately limited to 45mph in its underground sections due to the infrastructure of the tunnels, and on most lines you won’t get the chance to go that fast because the stations are too close together.

What really does matter, though, is acceleration – which is why many people assume that the Victoria line is the fastest. While its acceleration is nominally the same as the S7 and S8 stock, at 2.9mph per second, the Victoria line itself was built with hump-backed stations, meaning trains decelerate uphill into stations, storing gravitational potential energy, and accelerate downhill out of them, releasing it and increasing acceleration.


In safety terms, too, it’s in passengers interests for trains not to run that fast. The slower trains run, the closer they can safely run together, as stopping a reasonably slow-running train from crashing into the one in front should something go awry is easier than halting a 62mph, 1996 stock from bumping into the back of the next train on the line.

Essentially, if you’re seeking thrills on the Underground underground, hop on the Central or Jubilee lines in their central sections. If you’re a speed-chaser who doesn’t mind being above ground, catch a Metropolitan line out in the sticks of the artist formerly known as MiddlesexBuckinghamshire. If you’re a fan of acceleration, the Victoria line will give you a quiet thrill.

But if you just like getting from A to B as quickly as possible, the question of which London Underground line runs the fastest probably won’t actually help you that much. Wonkish questions about acceleration, service frequency and station design almost certainly will.

Happy riding.

Jack May is a regular contributor to CityMetric and tweets as @JackO_May.

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In New Zealand, climate change is driving an eco-nationalist revival

The green and pleasant land of the South Island. Image: Getty.

“Ten years ago I would have called them settler f*****g land squatters,” Mike Smith, Maori-dom’s most tenacious activist, said last November as he reflected on the agriculture industry’s central role in driving climate change. “Now I have to try and get these people on board.”

Smith is infamous for taking a chainsaw to Auckland’s most prominent tree on a damp October night in 1994 in protest of the “Pākehā” – or white European –dominated government’s fiscal envelope restraining treaty settlements. Now he’s turned his hand to another cause close-to-home for the Maori, New Zealand’s indigenous population: the environment.

“We’re super vulnerable, like we are to anything,” Smith says. “When it comes to climate change it’s like the poorest people in the world are going to be hit the hardest first, and that’s a lot of us.”

Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern appears, at least rhetorically, the most sympathetic leader to his cause in a decade. In her campaign launch speech late last year, she made the future government’s position clear: “Climate change is my generation’s nuclear free moment.”

This message should resonate with followers of her Labour party: the NZ left has long nurtured an environment-orientated “culture-of-protest”. So Ardern’s call to arms was bound to gain her loyal support among children of the 1960s and ‘70s, who led the march against nuclear ship visits, spurring on the government of the time to wriggle out from the US nuclear umbrella, and place a ban on foreign nuclear ship visits.

Now, it is to the tycoons of deep sea oil exploration they aim to close NZ’s ports.

In this, Smith is not short of support locally, with marches run by grassroots organisations and international animal welfare funds beginning to gain traction with every day New Zealanders. In this, Ardern’s prediction is correct: the Coal Action Network Aotearoa (CANA), is reminiscent of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND), an earlier cluster of left-wing pacifists and nature lovers who drove the creation of the nuclear free zone.  

In December, 15,000 passionate protesters marched through the capital. And with the government’s recent ban of offshore oil exploration projects, Jeanette Fitzsimons, former Green party co-leader and the head of CANA, is optimistic about similar change to the energy and farming sectors.

The Labour-NZ First-Green party coalition seems focused on setting a new global precedent, weaning NZ away from a United States which has jettisoned the Paris Agreement. The move replicates another 20 years ago, when New Zealand’s anti-nuclear movement was central to an upsurge in New Zealand nationalism. Now, the same sense of going it alone on foreign policy is apparent both locally and in Parliament.

Dr. Gradon Diprose, a senior lecturer at Massey University, argues that this echoes an older expression of colonial nationalism, that saw “New Zealand as a land of natural abundance”. This: “eco-nationalism” is centered on “protecting certain visions of picturesque landscapes and unspoiled natural beauty”. The slogan “Clean, green New Zealand” is prevalent in popular culture and tourism marketing. The public seems to have latched onto it too, and ranked keeping NZ’s waterways “clean and green” top of a recent survey of of kiwis’ top concerns.

Three decades ago, it was the 10 July 1985 sinking of the Greenpeace flagship Rainbow Warrior that thrust local activists’ fears into the public eye, resulting in an almost nation-wide expression of climate-protectionism.


The bombing, a French intelligence operation sparked by Greenpeace’s calls for an end to foreign nuclear testing in the Pacific, galvanised a great deal of change to New Zealand’s overseas defence policies. A lack of censure from New Zealand’s Western allies drove Wellington to distance itself from the United States, while the shock of seeing a friendly nation violate NZ’s sovereignty left many at home seething.

Thirty years on, the foreign policy split throughout the Anglosphere, regarding Russian-Western relations, globalism, and the old international rules-based order, is becoming wider. Climate change is just the tip of the iceberg.

Most Kiwis you talk to will shake their heads in disapproval at US president Donald Trump’s scandalous outing last year in Helsinki. But US defiance of internationally brokered climate resolutions is something they can see clearly reflected in rural communities across the country.

The country saw records broken at both ends of the extreme weather spectrum last year. As 2018 kicked off, Kiwis sweltered through the hottest summer on record, while in Golden Bay, a small inlet near the northern tip of the South Island, residents endured the largest flood in 150 years. So, when President Trump tweets “So much for Global Warming”, the majority of New Zealanders look back fondly on NZ’s 1985 decision to boycott the “ANZUS” treaty, putting New Zealand at odds with its war-time ally America on defence legislation.

Public calls to take the same track on environmental regulation have become louder in the wake of Donald Trump’s election. The former US Secretary of State, Rex Tillerson, received a frosty “unwelcome” while on a flyby to the capital in 2017, with the New York Times’ Washington correspondent, Gardiner Harris remarking: “I’ve never seen so many people flip the bird at an American motorcade as I saw today”. Protests against President Trump’s stance on climate change are beginning to gain greater traction further still, with the hundred-strong “march for science” setting the tone for the new government later that year.

New Zealand certainly isn’t afraid of radicalism, and its activists are persistent. It’s already banned single use plastics in supermarkets. Plenty more is to come, Smith says.

And yes, reform is going to inhibit sometimes vital industries: “It doesn’t matter which way you spin the dice on this, whatever’s being done is going to hurt. People who are looking for a painless way of mitigating climate change, [but] I don’t think there is one.”

But among Smith’s troupe of climate agitators, the feeling is that, without drastic change, “the land”, the heart of the Maori ethos, is going to be hurt far more.

Back in Auckland, NZ’s financial hub, an electric scooter craze is gripping the city. This, too, has gained the support of local environmentalists. In New Zealand, a national sense of pride is always coupled with a certain eccentricity. In a country this size, change always starts small.