Diary Of An ADI - A Driving Instructor's Blog

What Will They Think of Next?

13/01/2017

Nerve synapse I’ve updated this old post as it has attracted hits recently.

In spite of what some instructors claim – that people aren’t ready for their tests and have been taught incorrectly if they’re nervous – nerves are something that can have an adverse effect on the outcome of many pupils’ driving tests, no matter how good they normally are behind the wheel. Ironically, it’s the same nerves many ADIs experience when they start shitting themselves as soon as their standards check appointment arrives on the door mat.

Up to a point, nerves (or butterflies) are absolutely normal. Anyone who reckons that they don’t get them is either a liar (likely) or just way too cocky for their own good! There are some people, though, for whom nerves are massively debilitating.

A long time ago now, I picked up a new pupil who’d taken FIVE tests before she came to me, and she eventually passed on the FOURTH attempt with me. But I had never seen anyone who got it quite so bad on test day! One one occasion we had to stop during the journey to the test centre for her to be sick, and yet she was a great little driver. Since then, quite a few pupils have admitted to me that they’ve thrown up on the morning of their tests, most have trouble sleeping the night before, and others have had real problems with the shakes once out on test, admitting that they couldn’t control their legs during manoeuvres (I’ve witnessed that happen several times).

So you’ve got to be a real idiot to argue that it isn’t a problem.

Some time in the dim and distant past, one of my then nervous pupils went to see their GP and was prescribed beta blockers. The change was astounding, and since then I have advised anyone experiencing serious problems with their nerves to go and see their own GP and explain the situation. Most of the time, these are also prescribed the medicine – though there are occasions when it turns out they can’t have it for medical reasons, which is why it has to be your GP who decides. Just a word of advice: if you’re going to try it with your own doctor, whatever you do don’t say to something like “my instructor said…” They hate that.

Beta blockers are the real deal and they definitely work for controlling extreme nerves. They can’t stop you being a crap driver – but they can ensure that you’re not a nervous crap driver, and therefore open up the way for you to learn things better.

At the other end of the scale you have things like Rescue Remedy and Kalms. You can buy these from anywhere and a lot of people swear by them. I’m sceptical, and here’s why. This clipping is from the Rescue Remedy website and it lists the ingredients:

RESCUE Remedy is made up of a five individual flower essences that help you cope with the different emotional aspects of stressful situations:

Rock Rose is used for terror and panic

Impatiens addresses irritation and impatience

Clematis is for inattentiveness and a lack of focus

Star of Bethlehem is for shock

Cherry Plum helps with irrational thoughts and a lack of self control

The history page adds this:

Wanting to make his remedies more available to the general public in the 1930s Dr Bach [Rescue Remedy inventor] enlisted the help of the Nelsons Homeopathic Pharmacy in Duke St, London. Under his guidance they began to make and sell the remedies from the Mother Tinctures he supplied them. In 1990 this relationship was formalised and since then Nelsons (the Nelsons Homeopathic Pharmacy’s parent company) has been responsible for bottling and distributing RESCUE Remedy.

So, Rescue Remedy is a pretty much homeopathic product (though not officially, as it doesn’t have the same rites performed over it during its manufacture as homeopathic products do). This means that even the most sensitive laboratory instruments would struggle to find even a single molecule of any of those so-called ‘active’ ingredients in a bottle, and a single drop of the stuff on someone’s tongue is hardly likely to banish nerves.

Of course, this doesn’t make Rescue Remedy a complete waste of money. If some people believe in this kind of thing and are susceptible to the placebo effect then you could say that it’s worth the £4.00 they’ll have paid for it.

At the time I wrote the original article, there was a thread on a Student Room forum where someone had asked for others’ experiences of using Rescue Remedy. The ignorance and misinformation there was astounding. Someone mentioned beta blockers, which elicited the response:

Ooh, interesting. How would I purchase Beta blockers?

That same person had previously been prescribed propanolol, but didn’t bother to collect the prescription. But propanolol IS a beta blocker – it’s the one GPs usually prescribe when someone goes to them to discuss their nerves.

Someone else posted:

Absolutely, and yea, beta blockers are very good. I’ve heard similar for Ritalin, never taken it though.

Beta blockers and Ritalin are at opposite ends of the spectrum, not least because Ritalin is a controlled substance which is open to abuse and dependency. You’re not supposed to take Ritalin if you suffer from nervousness or anxiety, and when you first start using it you are advised against operating any machinery which involves concentration. Ritalin also comes with a swathe of unpleasant and outright dangerous side effects, and you’d have to be stupid to take it unless it was for its intended purpose (and even that is questionable).

To make matters worse, some of my own pupils have been advised to have a few shots of vodka to help them (and I make it clear if I get a whiff of alcohol on lessons or test day they aren’t going in my car).

Alexa, Ignore This Next Bit…

08/01/2017

DOAADI

Computers & Tech, News

This is funny. You’ve probably come across the various ‘assistants’ which respond to your voice on today’s computers and smartphones. One of the biggest at the moment is Alexa, Amazon’s assistant, and it comes with the Amazon Echo – a device that personally I can’t see the point of, but it appears quite a few other people can.

The Echo is a smart speaker system which listens continuously and responds to your voice commands. It does apparently useful things like play music, create ‘to-do’ lists, sets alarms, and provide weather and travel information. The same stuff you can do with a few mouse clicks or thumb twiddles. Except that it costs about £150.

This story from America tells how a San Diego news station was reporting on how a six-year old child had cost her parents a lot of money by accidentally ordering things via the family’s Echo device. She apparently said “can you play dollhouse with me and get me a dollhouse?” and shortly a $160 dollhouse and 4 lbs of biscuits arrived in the post.

During the report, the reporter said “I love the little girl, saying ‘Alexa ordered me a dollhouse’.”

The first problem is that in order to trigger the Echo – specifically, Alexa, which is the assistant running on it – you have to address it by name – Alexa – and then it listens. The second problem is that it turns out voice-controlled online ordering is activated by default on the Echo account. The third problem is that anyone who is prepared to pay £150 for a small mono-speaker employing technology that tries to be human but isn’t is not going to be the sharpest blade in the knife drawer, and will not have changed any of the default settings.

So when the reporter uttered the words “Alexa ordered me a dollhouse”, Echo devices all over San Diego, which were also listening to the show, immediately ignored the grammatical tense and began ordering dollhouses for their owners. CW-6 News said “plenty” of viewers’ boxes had placed orders.

Which is another reason I don’t want one. Mind you, I did look into it a few months ago before I knew how much they cost.

How Long Does It Take To Become An ADI?

08/01/2017

DOAADI

ADI, Training

I covered this years ago when the blog was still young! It was around the time of the last big rush of people wanting to become driving instructors. You might also want to take a look at my longer article, Should I Become a Driving Instructor?

More recently, I pointed out that the current climate is ideal for new ADIs because there’s a lot of work around. However, being metaphorical about it for a moment, a summer is always followed by a winter. Brexit is effectively the autumn which will develop into a nuclear winter – one that’s likely to take hold within the next couple of years, and which will last for an entire generation or even longer.

But I digress. Someone found the blog today with the search term “how long does it take to get adi badge [sic]”. Maybe I shouldn’t read between the lines, but whoever asked that seems to be thinking about it all wrong. It comes across as being purely about getting money, not least because someone who is serious about becoming an ADI would already have an idea of what is involved.

You need to pass three exams to become an ADI: a theory test (Part 1), a test of your driving ability (Part 2), and a test of your teaching ability (Part 3). Putting aside the work involved to pass them, you could book a theory test for some time in the next few weeks. Then you’d be free to book the Part 2 test, which could be a few weeks later. Finally, you’d be free to book the Part 3, which could be a few weeks after that. In an ideal world, you could pass all three parts within a couple of months.

In reality, though, the waiting time for the Part 2 and Part 3 tests is likely to be anything up to 2-3 months depending on where you live (in some places it may be more). So realistically, even if you pass each one at your first attempt – and you can’t book the next stage until you’ve passed the previous one – you’d need about 6-7 months just to fit them all in.

The last time I looked, the pass rate even for Part 1 was shockingly low at around 50%. Part 2 was also around 50%, and Part 3 was around 35%. You can only have a maximum of three attempts at either Part 2 or Part 3 within two years of passing Part 1, otherwise you have to go through all three parts again once the two years are up. I’ve gone through this calculation before, but if 100 people start out intending to become ADIs, using these pass rate figures as a worst case, only 50 of them will go on to take Part 2, only 25 will take Part 3, and ultimately only 9 out of the original 100 will succeed in getting their green badge. I stress that this is a worst case scenario, but it isn’t that far off the reality. Becoming an ADI is not an easy ride.

Those who are successful are unlikely to pass all three tests first time. They might, of course, but most don’t. If the wait for Parts 2 and 3 tests in your area is 3 months, each additional attempt will add a further three months to your overall qualifying period. Even if someone passes Part 1 (which can be taken an unlimited number of times), if they end up having three attempts at both Parts 2 and 3 (which is not uncommon) then the overall qualification period will be over 18 months absolute minimum. If they fail three times within the two year window, they have to wait until the window closes before doing the whole thing all over again.

Those pass rates are the result of a combination of the ability of people taking the tests and the difficulty of the tests per se. The fact that they’re so low should be a strong indication of how much work is involved getting up to test standard, and also of the risks any prospective ADI is taking in choosing to embark on training where there is potentially a greater than 90% chance of failure.

That risk needs to be considered when you look at how much it is going to cost you to qualify. At the time of writing, the Part 1 test costs £81, and Parts 2 and 3 cost £111 each. Every new prospective ADI assumes that they will only take one attempt at each test and end up paying £300 to qualify – even though the statistics strongly suggest otherwise. One attempt at Part 1, and a more realistic three attempts at each of the others would end up costing about £750. Most people will end up spending closer to this for their tests than the lower figure. But this is just the cost of the testing, remember, and you’re going to need at least 40 hours of Part 3 training (likely to be charged at £30-£35 per hour, possibly more) and let’s say 10 hours for Part 2 (ditto). That adds up to around £1,700 for training on top of test fees, and even this is a bare minimum. Assuming you can pass without much training is fine when you’re signing along the dotted line to apply to be entered on to the register, but once your test is looming most people suddenly realise their naiveté and end up postponing it or wasting one of their three lives. Either way, they have to pay for more training.

It’s impossible to say definitely how much money you’ll end up spending – you may be one in a milion who literally does it for £300 – but the vast majority will end up risking several thousand pounds on something with a high risk of failure. It’ll take at least 6 months to pass, but probably up to a couple of years. And if you fail, the money and time are both gone – there are no refunds.

Your problems don’t end there, though. If you qualify, you’re going to have to get a car, insurance, and dual controls. If you were the one who asked the question I quoted earlier, then there’s a good chance that you’re the kind of person who is going to want to do everything on the cheap, so you won’t be on the road teaching the next day while you squirrel away trying to get a car. Furthermore, passing Part 3 doesn’t come with a full diary of pupils – when you decided to become an ADI you probably thought “Oooh! £25 times 40 hours equals money, money, money,” and no further than that. Now, and if you’re lucky, a couple of relatives or friends will have asked you to teach their kids. Assuming you’re not ‘doing someone a favour’ (let’s be honest: they probably expect it, and so you probably are), these will be worth about £1,800 in turnover over four months. I can almost see the spinning reels of £ signs in your eyes, but this money will have to cover your overheads, so you’ll be left with maybe £1,100 before tax (and scaling it up, it works out to an annual salary of well under £300 – yes, three hundred). So, you’re going to need tons more work – you need something like 30 hours a week to earn a living wage.

You may have gained an Oscar Nomination from your family for passing Part 3, but the rest of the world doesn’t give a damn. They’ve got hundreds of other ADIs to choose from, and they’re not going to be queuing outside your house. You’re going to have to build up slowly – certainly more slowly than your initial plan might have allowed for. It could take 6 months to two years to get a stable pupil base, and even then you will have to keep working at it otherwise it could all disappear almost overnight. One way or another, that’s going to cost money (or time, which in business is still money anyway). And a huge number of people fail miserably on this business side of the matter.

In summary, it could take two years to qualify, and a further two years to establish yourself. You might do it quicker, but you’d be crazy to assume that and risk capital on it. Far more likely is that you might not qualify at all, and even if you did you might still fail in business. You must allow for that. And if you’re just going to be doing it for the money you think you can earn, do yourself a favour and forget about it right now.

Believe Everything

02/01/2017

DOAADI

ADI

It’s funny, but you can always recognise a newly-qualified ADI. They know everything, and believe everything.

My last instructor…

In all the years I’ve been doing this job I have never – not once – had a pupil come to me and say “my old instructor got rid of me because I kept cancelling lessons or not showing up”, or any other explanation which puts any sort of blame on the speaker. And yet you get new ADIs expressing their shock when the pupil trots out their alternative explanation for what probably really happened. They believe every word of it.

I’ve got one at the moment (well, not anymore, but he doesn’t know yet), who arranged his first lesson with me for 7.30pm one evening about a week before Christmas. I texted him the day before to remind him, turned up the next night five minutes early, texted him that I was outside, and got a reply 10 minutes later: “can you pick me up from Nottingham, I’m still in town?” My mum had been rushed into hospital a few days before and I needed to go and see her, so I couldn’t extend the lesson time beyond what we’d already agreed – and I didn’t want to just on principle. I rearranged with him for a few days later (without charging him for the first one) and that lesson went ahead. We booked another lesson for the Christmas week – and I mean that he had specifically asked for the lesson on that date. I texted him a couple of hours before to remind him, and back came the reply: “can you do tomorrow [New Year’s Eve] instead? I’ve just literally come back off holiday”. I was fully booked and told him so, and I’ve not responded to his message asking if I had any free time next week because I know he works full time, and will end up wanting another late evening one, which – again on principle – I’m not happy doing. Oh yes, and when I asked him about his lesson goals, he wanted to pass his test “before the end of January”. He can find someone else.

Just about every learner I’ve ever taken on who has had lessons previously has had something bad to say about their last instructor. This one will undoubtedly have one ready for whoever gets him next – and if the ink is still wet on their green badge they’ll believe every word.

It can get really sinister, though. I live in dread of some retard making a false accusation against me just to ‘get even’ over some perceived slight. I notice on a forum at the moment a shiny new ADI is in the throes of publicising a particular Facebook page where some lunatic has reacted to his girlfriend’s issues with her instructor by plastering his name all over it and making accusations of a criminal nature (the accusations from both him and the typical prats who use social media are criminal, and if there’s any truth in them then they’re criminal on the instructor’s side). The shiny new ADI believes every word of it, even though it is effectively nothing to do with him and he knows nothing of the true details, which are contradictory to say the least, and he is prepared to take it further. You get lunatics on all sides of the fence, unfortunately!

He shouted at me…

When two people meet for the first time an initial bond or chemistry – attractive, repulsive, or neutral – is established based on each person’s make up. For mature people, this changes with time as they get to know each other, but for others – and especially if they are immature – this chemistry persists relatively unaltered for the entire time the partnership lasts. There are quite a few 17-year olds out there who are emotionally little more than half that age, and they see their driving instructor as both ‘an adult’ and ‘a teacher’ – two things to be hated at all costs – which immediately sets up a bad chemistry.

Emotionally immature people tend to want what I privately refer to as ‘pink’ lessons where, no matter how many people (including themselves and you) they just tried to remove from the gene pool, all they want to hear is “that was good, take your time, well done”. Anything else will be deemed ‘shouting’. Fortunately for them there are instructors out there who can provide such ‘pink’ lessons, and who are prepared to put up with immaturity in spite of the risks associated with putting immature people on the roads. I’m not one of them. The vast majority of pupils – even those who say they are nervous at the start – quickly gain confidence, and if lessons remain ‘pink’ for very long they start to feel stifled. I pick up quite a few who have jumped ship because they felt they were being held back. It probably wasn’t anything malicious or deliberate on the other instructor’s part – they’ve just ended up as victims of reality by trying to live up to their ‘friendly and patient’ claims no matter what!

Another thing to remember is that there’s a big difference between actual ability and perceived ability among nervous pupils. They tend to gauge their driving skills based on how they feel, and not on what they can actually do. Years ago I had a girl who was a brilliant driver but she hated driving, and her end-of-lesson assessments were always negative until we agreed that the baseline was how her driving compared with the previous lesson and not whether she had enjoyed herself.

In many cases, a pupil’s beef about not making progress with their last instructor might have been valid, though not for the reasons they have identified. Reading between the lines, some ADIs (as already noted) attempt to remain ‘pink’ at all costs and end up holding pupils back. Others appear to miss the signs and end up stepping on sensitive toes – and get accused of ‘shouting’. I can always tell if someone has been taught correctly based on how they drive, and in most cases they’ve been taught perfectly well. Any perceived problem seems to boil down to relevance rather than correctness.

You took them where…?

It makes me smile when I see a shiny new ADI criticising those who have been doing the job for a lot longer they have. Ironically, many of us have been doing it for longer than some of these will manage before giving up unless they wise up quickly.

Apparently, you shouldn’t take a pupil anywhere near a [insert detail here] for at least 30 hours. Examples of things that go in the blank space are:

dual carriageway
roundabout
zebra crossing
crossroads
‘major road’

The nice thing about this one is that you get it right from the horse’s mouth. And it is utter bollocks!

A few years ago I had a 17-year old pupil who passed his test after only 14½ hours of lessons. On his first lesson, with no previous experience in a car or on a motorcycle, after the initial controls and moving off/stopping exercises we moved from the side roads to bigger ones. Then we moved on to dual carriageways, and ended up doing a 25-mile round trip down the A46 (as close to a motorway as you can get without actually going on one). He handled it all as if he’d had many more hours of training, and was ecstatic at the end. Although he was undoubtedly the best (so far), I’ve had many others who picked everything up almost straight away, and passed in under 30 hours.

On average, at least 10% of my pupils are quite capable of handling larger roads – including dual carriageways – within an hour of commencing lessons. Well over 90% can handle it in the 2^nd or 3^rd hours. It should be said that a small but significant percentage can’t handle dual carriageways or various other situations in a way I am completely happy with even after 40 hours, and a smaller number still can’t be trusted even after 60 hours! It’s how the world works, but if you keep trundling around car parks and quiet industrial estates with people who really could be out in rush hour traffic, you’re not going to keep hold of them for very long – but thanks for keeping me in work, anyway!

OMG! You used the dual controls…?

Similar to the above, and based on the fact that many Part 3 trainers put it across to PDIs that you should only use the dual controls in an emergency. This is also bollocks, especially in the real world.

The dual controls are there to be used as needed. They’re great for demonstrating things, and as I have mentioned several times elsewhere, if I don’t trust someone in a given situation then my foot will hover over the brake or clutch pedals or even shadow them. Preserving my life and theirs comes way higher on my list of priorities than gambling on whether they’re going to brake in time when they’re already doing it later than I’d like and haven’t responded to prompting.

I blame the examiner…

A lot of those I take on have previously failed one or more tests, and it can be annoying when they reveal they’ve got another one booked already, even before I’ve seen them drive. In quite a few cases, their standard of driving is barely half way towards what I’d consider a typical test standard (indeed, most have only taken literally half the official average number of hours – and some of those turn out to be the types who would require more than the average anyway). The vast majority have something negative to say about their examiner – “he made me nervous”, “he was rude when I stalled”, and so on.

When someone tells me they failed for stalling, they will usually omit important details like “it was on a steep hill, I didn’t brake, we were rolling back faster and faster, and there were cars behind us. Then I stalled two more times when I tried to get going and the lights changed to red again. I stalled because I’d put it in 3^rd gear and didn’t realise when I tried to get going again.”

It’s hard to be ‘pink’ (see definition above) when you can see your life flashing in front of your eyes, and I’d imagine this applies to examiners as much as anyone else. Let’s face it: if you’re an examiner, and you have to examine someone who perhaps shouldn’t be there in the first place who does something like this, you’re going to shit yourself! A driving test is not a driving lesson, and people taking them are assumed to be adults, so I, for one, would not condemn an examiner for being abrupt if something like that happened. I consider this when I get the story from a pupil. Actually, some pupils drive me nuts when they stall and then sit looking at me as if to say “what just happened?” as though they have never stalled before, as we enter freefall backwards down a steep slope. I can imagine how examiners must sometimes feel. Newly-qualified ADIs ought to think of this before they set off on their career-long crusade against DVSA.

They got out of the car?

Driving lessons are not the same as real world driving, especially when you are teaching someone something for the first time. When reversing round a corner, for example, you may well sit there for much longer than you would if you were just doing it for real, quite possibly with a few stalls mixed in for good measure. It’s not a crime.

Nor is it a crime if you ask a pupil to get out and have a look at the corner for training purposes (if it’s done safely and legally), and newly-qualified ADIs should bear this in mind before they start shooting their mouths off if they see another instructor doing it. You should never reverse if you aren’t sure what’s behind you, and getting out to check – safely and legally – is an accepted way of being sure. For the same reason, if you’re trying to get someone to understand how what they see in the mirror reflects where the car is in relation to a corner, what better way than getting out (safely and legally) to have a quick look? You wouldn’t do it on a busy major road, but on a quiet residential street or deserted industrial estate…?

If you pick up a pupil who tells you they did this with their last instructor, don’t assume that that instructor advised that they should always do it regardless of location or experience. It was probably their own way of teaching a new skill.

Learners to be Allowed on Motorways – Act III

30/12/2016

DOAADI

ADI, DfT, DVSA, News

This email alert just came through from DfT. It’s about allowing learner drivers on motorways.

Let’s just take a time-out here before we get all excited. This precise subject has kicked off at least twice in the last 10 years, and each time it was put across as ‘definitely going to happen’. Changes to government killed it stone dead both times, just as it has the various other times it’s kicked off going back further still.

This current government is about as stable as a two-legged stool as a result of Brexit and Theresa May’s unbelievably bad appointments to both the Cabinet and other posts, and her obvious inability to see how ‘Brexit’ and ‘business as normal’ are mutually exclusive. It isn’t going to survive past one term at best, and even if it does it’s going to have a lot on its plate. This particular issue will be way down the list, and quite frankly – and disappointingly – I can see it sinking without trace just like it does every other time.

Having said that, I really hope that I’m wrong. Allowing learners on to motorways is massively overdue, and I would welcome it.

The proposals would mean that only ADIs in cars fitted with dual controls would be allowed to conduct motorway lessons. Roof boxes (advertising the school) would not be allowed, because they can (and do sometimes) blow off at speed. Motorway lessons would be ‘voluntary’ – I’m not 100% certain what that means, but it’s probably a get-out clause for people who don’t live anywhere near a motorway (and, unfortunately, those ADIs who – through every fault of their own – can’t afford the fuel for the additional miles a motorway lesson would entail, and who wouldn’t do them even if they could).

There is a consultation in that link I gave for people to add their own comments.

Bus Lanes

28/12/2016

DOAADI

ADI, Training

One fairly common reason people fail their driving tests is because they don’t use bus lanes properly. Unfortunately, a contributing factor is that very few so-called ‘experienced’ drivers know how to use them, either. And to make matters worse, the people who work for local councils and the contractors who produce bus lane signs also appear clueless.

Bus lane signs don’t always look exactly like the ones shown in the Highway Code. They’re very similar, but there is some variation. The Highway Code identifies simple bus lanes using signs similar to those shown above. The one on the left refers to what is known as a ‘24-hour bus lane’, and you are not allowed to drive in it as if it were a normal lane at any time (I’ll discuss this further a little later). The one on the right gives days and times during which the lane is in operation as a bus lane, and outside those times you can treat it as a normal driving lane.

The first thing to understand is that the type of bus lane and its times of operation are set by local councils. The times I’ve used above are typical of most Nottingham bus lanes, though Rushcliffe Borough Council has recently chucked a spanner in the works by altering one in West Bridgford to operate between 3.30 – 6.00pm (a change that I doubt most drivers will be aware of, because I only realised it when I looked at the sign one day). Operating times are different in other cities, and it is up to the driver to check. A 24-hour bus lane may or may not be usable by taxis (in Nottingham, wheelchair-accessible taxis can use city centre bus lanes, but they’re not allowed in borough ones). The appropriate icons or wording are added to or removed from signs as necessary.

Nottingham City Council has managed the following further – needless – variations on a 500m stretch of road for one particular 24-hour bus lane.

That one on the right is my favourite, because it is demonstrates a case of ‘we don’t know which sign to use, so we’ll use both of them’. The fact that each subsequent sign set is not the same as the previous one creates a hundred times more confusion for normal drivers, since the obvious implication is that something is different. It isn’t. But when the bus lane becomes time-controlled about a mile further on, everyone keeps out of it just to be on the safe side. The one on the left is extremely confusing if you’re already unsure, because it begs the question ‘does it mean I can use it at any time?’

Basically, there should be four simple variations for a normal bus lane. When approaching a 24-hour one the sign shown top left should be used. A variation of that with operating times underneath would warn of one you could use it at certain times. The one shown top right would warn that the lane you’re driving alongside has operating times, and the corresponding variation (the bottom add-on on the above right pairing used by Nottingham City Council) would tell you it was 24-hour.

Of course, the Highway Code shows several more complex situations, involving with-flow and contraflow lanes, and depending on where you live you may see these more often. But the basic principle is that if there are no hours of operation shown, you can’t go in it at any time. If times are shown, those are the times when it is a bus lane and you’re not allowed in.

Can you drive in a 24-hour bus lane at any time?

For normal driving, no. If you do, you’re likely to get a penalty charge notice (PCN) from the council if a camera sees you – and remember that buses have cameras fitted these days.

However – and you still need to be very careful here, because the attitude varies from council to council – in some places you may be allowed to dip into them to pass vehicles waiting to turn right. It would be stupid and petty if you were expected to remain behind a right-turner, leading to long tailbacks, but some councils really are stupid and petty (London springs to mind here), so be careful.

Nottingham City Council says, in its PCN explanation leaflet/FAQs:

…the Authorised Officer will have noted issues such as the following before considering the issue of a PCN:

The bus lane is clearly marked and operational and the incident occurred more than 5 minutes after the restrictions started and more than 5 minutes before they ended

There is no evidence that the vehicle has stopped to pick up or set down a passenger. If setting down a passenger the vehicle must have made every effort to move out of the bus lane as soon as it was safe to do so

There is no evidence of action by a Police Officer or an On-Street Civil Enforcement Officer

The vehicle’s actions in the bus lane were not merely clipping the start or end of the bus lane but if the vehicle entered the bus lane it proceeds for more than 20 metres (approx 4 continuous car lengths) after so entering

At least a significant part of the vehicle infringed the bus lane restriction i.e. more than 50% of the vehicle’s width

If the vehicle used the bus lane to gain advantage over traffic using the correct lane.

When a vehicle is observed to undertake a vehicle turning right into a side road, by using a bus lane during its time of operation, the Council will treat each case on its merits and try to adopt a common-sense approach. The driver of such a manoeuvre should ensure that the route back out of the bus lane is clear before undertaking. In most cases the discretionary 20 metres distance will not be exceeded.

Note that these comments apply equally to a non-24 hour bus lane during its operational period. So, in Nottingham at least, you can pass someone turning right by dipping into and then out of a bus lane which is in operation at the time. Obviously, you should check that it’s safe and that there are no buses (or other drivers) on your left before doing so.

Why do people stay out of bus lanes even when they could go in them?

If the bus lane isn’t in operation, the reason other drivers stay out of them is usually because they don’t understand how to use them and are playing it safe. It isn’t uncommon to see a huge tailback at traffic lights, even though the bus lane is usable as a driving lane.

When I’m driving – either on my own or with a pupil – it is funny how a bus lane can be completely empty in the visible distance, and it is only when we enter it that other drivers do so, often right in front of us just to prevent us passing them as they move slowly in the queue they’ve helped create. Quite simply, not using bus lanes correctly is dangerous for this reason alone.

Why is it dangerous if I don’t go in a bus lane when I’m allowed to?

If you’re going to want the left hand lane you’ll probably end up having to move into it when it has filled up with other traffic. That causes hold ups and the potential for accidents.

Remember also that other drivers tend to err on the side of being arseholes, and although you will find that you being in the bus lane will make some of them try to get past you at all costs, in most cases that is better than the equivalent situation of those same arseholes trying not to let you into the left-hand lane when you need to get in at the end of the bus lane.

Use the bus lane properly and you have less to worry about.

Will I fail my test if I don’t use the bus lane?

If the bus lane is not in operation, and therefore a normal lane, then yes, there is a good chance you will fail. The simple fact is that if you drive for any lengthy distance in the right-hand lane when the bus lane is not in operation – and it is empty/free of obstacles – then you are driving in the wrong lane. And people do fail for doing that, whether it’s a bus lane or not.

Some examiners might let you get away with it, but that would depend on how far you drive, how many signs you pass, and what effect you have on other road users and how they react. However, if you try to turn left across a bus lane when you could (and should) have been driving in it, then a fail is virtually guaranteed from my own pupils’ experience.

Yes, if you only didn’t use the bus lane for a relatively short distance, and if you did all the safety observations before turning across it, and if you didn’t cause any hold ups to traffic (or buses) in it, then it is possible the examiner might let you get away with it. They shouldn’t, but they might.

It’s best if you use them like you know what you’re doing, though. Then it isn’t a matter of chance.

What if I don’t know the area?

Look. If I travel to a city I have not been to before, if I drive in a bus lane when I shouldn’t then I will still get a ticket. Likewise, if I drive to a city I don’t know, by not using a bus lane when I should there is an increased chance of having a collision if I need to turn left. The same goes for other rules of the road. It’s why we have road signs and The Highway Code.

It is my responsibility to know when to use the bus lane and when not to. A learner taking their test is no different. The only difference is that I use bus lanes because I know how they work, and not because I am copying what others are doing. And that’s what my learners need to know.

If in doubt, stay out – but look for the signs and alter your behaviour accordingly.

Why Is The UK’s Productivity So Low?

27/12/2016

DOAADI

News

A question posed by The Guardian today. The answer is quite simple, although The Guardian didn’t get it: Teamworking. I saw the problem myself before I was fortunate enough to lose my job and forever be freed from this pernicious fad.

Productivity is the rate of output per unit input, and you don’t need to be a genius to work out that if you employ lazy twats who are more interested in holding meetings and taking part in events which should only appeal to children of nursery school age, you’re going to run into problems. Then add the Unions – who won’t let you increase productivity without going on strike because increasing productivity means doing the same work with less people, doing more work with the same people, or doing any work with less people than union members think you should be – and you’re stuffed. And just to add insult to injury, these days there is also gender and minority bias to contend with, where you’re not allowed to be successful unless you do it only using women and minority groups.

The data show that the UK’s productivity has fallen compared to other G7 countries since the early 1990s – and that was exactly the time that the UK became incontinent over the matter of Teamworking. This is no mere coincidence, believe me. The introduction of Teamworking marks the precise point when any company gives up on productivity and turns itself into a playschool for biological adults with the mental ages of infants – just before it finds itself steadily going out of business.

Big companies like the one I had to put up with manage to stay in business for longer – albeit as the result of being bought out by bigger companies, whilst still trying to maintain that they’re independent, when they’re not. Smaller ones are toast very quickly, though.

The only way you can improve productivity is to run your company yourself, your way, using the best people available irrespective of their gender or cultural background, and not let the shop floor (aka “the team”) do it for you. If the shop floor had a clue, they’d be running their own businesses to start with. This was the fundamental mistake the dickheads I used to work for made, and it explains why they got taken over and are now having to pretend that the brand name is the same as it ever was. It isn’t. They screwed up and paid the price, just like I said they would. In fact, from what I understand, the takeover was typical of the morons who were in control, and resulted in an internal bureaucracy that is ten times more convoluted than the mess they had before as they tried to assimilate two sets of management across two company names. Indeed, they’re currently in the process of trying to lose several hundred head office staff through voluntary redundancy for about the tenth time in 20 years.

You do not get better productivity when you’re spending time and resources farting about with that kind of crap. And you’d think that – after 20 years – they’d have realised that by now.

Incidentally, I see that Asda is currently in a bit of a pickle financially. I note that it spends an inordinate amount of time referring to its staff as “colleagues”, holding “colleague team meetings” and such like, while at the same time making absolutely sure that items which should be in stock on its shelves aren’t. I’ve done a bit of sneaky upside down reading of notes to “colleagues” at checkouts when I’ve been shopping, and it made my blood run cold with memories from my own nightmare days in a “teamworking” environment – on the one hand, you’ve got the requirement to bollock people for not doing their jobs properly, while on the other you’ve got to pretend they’re all equal and call them ‘colleagues’. I can see it now – Asda management will be frantically trying to address the matter of falling sales by holding more and more “colleague meetings” instead of just doing the sodding obvious things management should be doing and putting items on shelves that people want to buy.

As soon as anyone introduces fancy names for staff – colleagues, team members, team leaders, associates, etc. – you know the end is in sight.

Salt Awareness Week

24/12/2016

DOAADI

Food

I reckon that Salt Awareness Week ran concurrently with Clueless Week, with participants in the latter generating publicity for the former. While reading a shock-horror story about salt in crumpets, I discovered this MSN news feed on the subject and, as a chemist, immediately realised that those responsible for Salt Awareness Week – some idiots claiming to be ‘doctors’ at treated.com – haven’t got a clue.

As an aside, I bought some of the usual Christmas provisions from Asda this week. One item was a Gala Pie which, for anyone who doesn’t know, is a bit like a pork pie with a hard boiled egg in the middle. I had a slice of it today and I can only describe the taste as something akin to eating cardboard wrapped around raw tofu. In other words, flavourless – and this is purely a result of it having no salt in it.

I’ve written about salt many times before (use the site’s search field to find posts), pointing out that there is no conclusive evidence that salt is bad for you unless you eat a bucket of it a day (and a bucket of spring water would also probably kill you). In most cases, my point has been that taking salt out of food renders it flavourless, since salt is a flavour enhancer.

Current ‘wisdom’ says that you should not eat more than 6g of salt a day (around one teaspoon). Since salt is a chemical compound of sodium and chlorine, and it is the sodium which is the alleged problem, 6g of salt is equivalent to about 2.4g of sodium. But what these ‘experts’ fail to clarify or delve into is that many natural foods contain sodium in the first place. A 100g portion of virtually any fish contains at least a fifth of your daily recommended daily sodium intake (RDA). A similar portion of any cheese contains between a fifth and more than a half of your RDA. Almost any unprocessed food item contains sodium in measurable amounts, so you’re going to get sodium whether you like it or not.

Without getting into the minefield of whether 6g of salt applies just to added salt or all sodium from any source, let’s get back to that Salt Awareness thing. They had identified the top 20 ‘saltiest snacks’ and expressed the results ‘per 100g. Thus, Peperami was no. 2 on the list as having 4.1g of salt. The problem is that a single Peperami only weighs 25g, and that ‘shocking’ figure assumes that you eat four of them.

They also dissed Space Raiders Pickled Onion snacks, at no. 3, for having 3.3g of salt. Except that a single 22g pack of these only contains about 0.6g of salt. You can see how misleading this is.

At no. 14 was Babybel, those little cheese circles you can buy, with 1.8g of salt. A single Babybel weighs 22g, and so contains only 0.4g of salt.

At no. 16 there was the obligatory slur on Heinz’s Tomato Ketchup, also with 1.8g of salt. But a typical serving of ketchup is about the same weight as a Babybel, so again only contains 0.4g of salt.

And my favourite one is Dairylea Cheese Triangles, with 1.7g of salt. A single triangle weighs 17.5g, so you’d have to eat almost the whole pack to be anywhere near 1.7g.

Then there is Hellman’s Mayonnaise, with 1.6g of salt. Except that depending on how you use it, a single serving of Hellman’s can be as little as 10g – or less than 0.2g of salt.

The fact that there are people who are so stupid as to eat ten Peperamis or half a bottle of ketchup in a single sitting is irrelevant. The fact remains that the figures provided are purposely misleading about a subject which no one understands.