I suffer from a social condition that, until now, has been too embarrassing to mention: on public transport, I morph into Victor Meldrew. More often than not, much like the cantankerous sitcom character, I find myself muttering “I don’t believe it!”. Ten minutes into a journey, fortified by solidarity eye-contact from other passengers, I step up to ask those blasting their music or conversation at full volume on speakerphone to turn it down. Outwardly, my tone is polite but firm. Inside my head, I wonder: do these people not know that audio exhibitionism (as I call it) is just plain rude? The answer is: no.
It was, therefore, music to my headphone-clad ears when last week Andy Burnham announced on Instagram (where else would this PM do it?) a “nationwide campaign across railways reminding people to use headphones instead of playing audio out loud”. Though there are already laws against loud music on trains, the campaign will ask people to “share the carriage, not the noise”. The Burnham big guns were, however, reserved for buses, where he was “going further” to allow local leaders to crack down on “nuisance behaviour” including playing loud music, vaping and littering.
As someone who routinely picks up rubbish dropped on the street only to hand it back to the litterer with the words “I’m so sorry, but I think you forgot this”, Burnham’s message felt like Christmas had come early.
Mutual respect and empathy in shared public spaces – big or small – helps to oil the wheels of community cohesion
Not everyone, however, was as pleased. A quick scroll of the comments under the post showed that while many gave the plan a cautious welcome, they also pointed to obvious omissions. For example, why was there no mention of the use of speakerphone for conversations or video games? And would the campaign apply to London Underground or just national rail?
A number of accounts also repeated this criticism: why wasn’t Burnham focusing on “big policy” instead of the “small stuff”? This, I think, is somewhat reductive: surely the prime minister can – and is – focusing on both. He’s reopened the Brexit debate and has signed off on the foreign secretary calling Israeli settlers “terrorists”. Moreover, if you think the myriad problems with bus services are minor, try relying on them to get you to work, a hospital appointment or the weekly shop, especially in the winter. I can guarantee you’ll change your mind pretty quickly.
The fact is, the so-called small stuff matters. It matters because mutual respect and empathy in shared public spaces – big or small – helps to oil the wheels of community cohesion. Britons now feel more socially divided than ever before. While much of that is driven by political polarisation, I believe the rising cost of living, a sense things aren’t working as they should, and an underlying fear that enforcing simple rules like telling someone to turn off their speaker could result in attack are all contributing factors.
I’ve long believed that shared social conventions which place community comfort first and individual entitlement second could play a quietly powerful role in bringing us together. As Harvard social psychologist Charlotte Nickerson says, social norms – the unwritten rules that guide how people behave in different social situations – provide communities with structure and predictability. In an uncertain world, certainty in interactions with strangers is to be welcomed.
Many social norms in the UK have taken hundreds, if not thousands, of years to develop and become embedded. From saying “hello” when greeting someone, to not talking through a movie in a cinema, to saying “thank you” when shown a kindness – these may be not unique to this country, but they are shared expectations. Choosing not to do these things causes needless friction, making us feel uncomfortable, offended and unseen.
Smartphones with their speakers have only been around for about 25 years, but society is saturated with them; according to the last census, 84% of people in England and Wales have one for their private use.
That means that developing a shared social etiquette around them will evolve over time. In a diverse society, where age-related or cultural attitudes to using speakerphone in shared spaces differ, Burnham’s campaign may seem unfair or absurd. However, that shouldn’t deter us from encouraging or, where appropriate, enforcing social codes that the majority of us subscribe to right now. In recent years, Ofcom, YouGov and Transport for London have all published polls showing the vast majority of people dislike the use of speakerphone on buses, trains and the underground.
The practicality of the prime minister’s scheme has rightly also come under scrutiny. This is where more work needs to be done. His enforcement plan is vague. Currently, refusing to turn off loud music on a train can carry a fine of up to £1,000. Burnham is considering fines of up to £100 on buses – but with driver-only operation, who will stop the offenders?
This rather large hole in the campaign could mean it will ultimately fail. However, I believe there is a glimmer of hope: community pride. On a recent trip to Japan, I was struck by how well culture norms on all forms of public transport are enforced – not by officials in uniform, but by ordinary train users. We were, at the start of the trip, politely informed by fellow passengers – despite the language barrier – where to queue, which side of the escalator to stand on, how to ensure everyone could store their luggage on the racks. In return, transport was spotless, bus drivers and train guards thanked us for joining them, and, most of all, everyone seemed to treasure their shared public service.
Admittedly, Japanese society is generally significantly more collectivist than ours is. In other words, people often view themselves and others as members of a broad social group (like a family, only bigger). It means that to some extent they feel a sense of collective responsibility for the actions of individuals, even strangers.
In Britain, it took a relatively short time for wearing seatbelts and not smoking to become the norm. Of course there was legislation, but more importantly there was a sense that we, collectively, wanted our society to be safer and healthier. In our country, where public transport systems are often overstretched, unreliable and expensive, the simple act of using a pair of headphones on buses and trains would help ease the strain; and help all of us feel that bit less Victor Meldrew and significantly more zen.
Sangita Myska is an award-winning journalist and presenter best known for her political and social commentary. She writes a twice-monthly column for the Nerve