Within the first ten minutes of being driven around by my 11-year-old I was
hit by a cascade of thoughts. First: “Wow, the little sod has already
cracked that tricky ‘biting point’ business that took me about six months.”
Then: “How handy if he could schlep himself to football training or — better
still — be my designated driver at parties.” And finally: “Oh no, please
stop! This is why we don’t let children really drive cars.”
At that point Ed Redfern, the instructor, was saying repeatedly, louder each
time, yet without losing his dogged patience: “Jake, come off the gas! Jake
. . . ” But still my son kept his foot on the throttle. We were doing only
about 30mph but the circuit was pretty bendy and Jake seemed to think that
he was The Stig rounding Hammerhead on the Top Gear track.
But this lesson was no petrol-head kids’ party gimmick. The purpose of the
Mercedes Driving Academy, launched at the weekend, is to teach young people
to drive well before they are legally allowed on public roads. Children as
young as 12 — or over 1.5m tall, which is how Jake scraped in — are given
real lessons and theory tests by a professional instructor and, over the
months, work their way up through a series of levels coloured like the belts
in judo. By the time he has acquired “black”, a child would be capable of
passing the national driving test and perhaps permitted to drive the
Mercedes AMG power cars, which are ripping up the next track as we judder
around the beginner’s loop in an A-class.
I had to warn my two sons, Jake and Joe, who is 13, that this wasn’t go-kart
racing, but the beginning of the repetitious and sweatily humiliating
process of mirror-signal-manoeuvre. “It won’t be fun,” I kept warning them
en route to the Mercedes Benz brand centre in Weybridge, Surrey. Personally,
I have no good memories of learning to drive. I still struggle to
distinguish left from right and passed my test aged 23 after about 2,000
lessons and then predictably pranged my office pool car within a week. I got
more thrills from learning to touch-type.
But then I was not a Dave channel-addicted Clarkson-adoring schoolboy. My sons
could not wait to get behind the wheel and listened raptly to Redfern’s long
safety preamble. Driving, after all, is the most grown-up power they have
ever wielded. Seeing Jake, who can barely peer over the steering wheel,
carefully check his rear mirror, release the handbrake and move off was
somehow hugely comical. “It’s like watching a dog play the piano,” said his
brother from the back seat. “Or Bugsy Malone.”
It is easy to be cynical about the Mercedes Driving Academy. Are they just
trying to hook children into their brand early, creating loyal future
consumers? Is it just a money-making scheme to offset their recessionary
slump now that fewer people are buying new cars? Well, maybe. But actually
the company should be credited for highlighting a huge and long-ignored
problem.
Drivers under 25 in Britain cause 1,000 deaths a year, including their own.
They make up one in four of road fatalities, although they comprise a tiny
proportion of motorists. Car accidents are the single biggest cause of death
of our teenage children. Just yesterday, two youths, aged 18 and 19, were
killed in Wanstead, East London, when a Lexus carrying four young men spun
out of control in the early hours of the morning and hit a tree.
Considering that we are the most safety-obsessed generation of parents ever,
chauffeuring our younger kids around for fear of letting them cross a road
alone, it is extraordinary that just a few years later we let our teenagers
drive cars with less training than demanded by most major European nations
(see Rules for the Road, right).
In Britain you can pass your driving test on your 17th birthday, which is also
the first day that you can acquire a provisional licence and take a driving
lesson on a public road. Therefore, for most teenagers, the process of
learning to drive is just a race to see who can pass the quickest. There is
a macho swagger in “I had only six lessons and passed first time”. The
average young British driver sets forth alone with only 40 hours of
supervision and yet Mercedes — and many road safety bodies — believes that
this is not enough to make them safe drivers.
Campaigners have long fought to get a graduated licence scheme adopted in
Britain. This means that a new driver would still have constraints on his or
her motoring. For example, in the first year he may be forbidden to carry
other young passengers (who are more likely to distract him) or use
motorways, must follow lower speed limits and adhere to a strict
zero-alcohol rule. After 12 months some countries bring young drivers back
in for a further assessment to wipe out bad habits and offer extra tuition
to those found wanting. In Austria and Sweden, graduated licence schemes
have caused dramatic drops in accidents involving rookie drivers. What a
no-brainer, you’d have thought. Why should motoring legislation be focused
on punishment — endless penalties, fines and speed cameras — rather than on
education? And yet successive governments have produced reports, vacillated
and then shelved graduated licence schemes. As Alexander Hobbach, the
project leader of the Mercedes Academy, points out, any attempt to change
driving law is always countered by motoring lobbies and legal tangles.
Besides, for the Government it would be expensive and bureaucratic to run.
Easier to let our young keep killing themselves . . . and us.
So into a political vacuum comes the sleek, shiny — and slightly opportunist —
shape of Mercedes. “It is strange that if parents want their child to learn
the piano they make a big effort to find the best teacher,” says Hobbach.
“And yet they often pick a driving instructor out of the phone book.”
And the academy would like young people to regard driving lessons in rather
the same way as learning an instrument: as a fun hobby, working up through
grades. They also wish it to be sociable, getting groups of teenagers
together to discuss safety issues, thus breaking down the bravado of youth
driving, demonstrating, for example, how you can crash by taking your eyes
of the road for just three seconds to gaze at your girlfriend or change a
CD.
Iqra Tahir and her twin brother Waqar, from Neasden, northwest London, were
pioneers at the Mercedes programme and, aged 15, are already black belts.
They were 13 when their car-mad father started taking them on Sunday
mornings and were quickly hooked. “Dad would say to us that if we did well
in our studies, he’d reward us with more driving,” says Iqra, “so we also
started getting better marks at school.” Recently Mercedes brought in a
retired external examiner to give the twins driving tests. A gang of
instructors in other cars had to simulate traffic on the track since the
Tahirs are still not allowed on proper roads. They both passed comfortably,
although must now wait a further two years to take the real test. In the
meantime they have learnt how to steer in wet weather on skid pads, besides
driving Mercedes AMG C63s. “I think when I can drive for real, I won’t
speed,” says Iqra, who longs to own a Bugatti Veyron, “because I’ve learnt
about safety and I’ve already had the thrill of driving at 100mph I won’t
need to take it out on the road.”
It could be a costly hobby since half an hour on the track costs £40 (an hour
off-track for those old enough to have provisional licences is £38) but
Mercedes has a cunning plan to offset this cost. Insuring young drivers is
prohibitively expensive, particularly for young men who are statistically
seven times more likely than older males to have an accident. Mercedes is
now negotiating a deal with a leading (as yet unnamed) insurance company for
any young person who has graduated from its academy to receive a lower
premium. For parents this could compensate for the pricey lessons.
Back on the track, I rejoin my sons, who now have both had an hour’s
instruction behind the wheel. Joe has stopped making an horrendous roar by
pressing down the clutch and accelerator at the same time. Jake is willing
to slow down as he approaches a bend. They can both drive almost in a
straight line and can change up into second gear then down again. Both are
graded out of five for steering, observation and so on, and deemed to have
passed the first level — silver belt.
I’m quite astounded by their progress. Redfern tells me that instructors, who
have taught only adults before, are always amazed how quickly a child can
learn. “Unlike the 17-year-olds who think they know it all, a 12 or
13-year-old really listens,” he says. “They soak it up like sponges.”
My boys loved the lessons and were not put off by the seriousness of the
process. “It was a lot harder than I thought,” said Jake, rubbing his aching
clutch foot. “But I’d love to do it every week.” That could even happen, if
Mercedes fulfils its ambition of rolling out its driving academies across
Britain. It must be less stressful to have a nice lunch in the restaurant
watching them on the track, than endure shouting matches teaching them
myself.
By the end of the afternoon, I see that Ed the instructor has the tired frown
of someone who has been trapped in a car with my sons for many hours.
Teaching children to drive must really require Zen levels of patience.
Redfern looks at me with slightly reddened eyes. “Yes,” he says firmly. “It
does.”
www.mbdrivingacademy.com
RULES FOR THE ROAD
Austria
Learning: A driving school and accompanied driving programme, with practical
and theory lessons and a minimum of 3,000kms accompanied driving. Learners
can start at 16 and take the test from 17.
After the test: Two years’ probation and a zero-alcohol rule. Any violations
lead to an offender course and extension of probation. One year after the
test, there’s a day of track training and group discussion.
Germany
Learning: Drivers can learn to drive only in professional driving schools.
Learners can take the test at 17, followed by mandatory accompanied driving
until 18.
After the test: Two years’ probation, extended if there are violations. Zero
alcohol until 21
France
Learning: Starts at 17½ (if at a driving school) or 16 on the accompanied
driving programme — a combination of a minimum of 20 hours’ driving school
training, 3,000km accompanied driving, plus two three-hour feedback meetings
with instructor. Minimum age for test, 18.
After the test: Three years probabtion and novice drivers must display ‘A’
driver-plates on the back of the car. They must also drive more slowly, ie,
110km on motorways, instead of 130km.
Sweden
Learning: Lessons start at 16 and the accompanying driver must take a
three-hour training course. Driving test can be taken at 18.
After the test: Two years’ probation. Violations result in a suspension of the
licence and driver has to retake test.
UK
Learning: Test can be taken at 17. Unlike other countries, motorway driving is
not taught.
After the test: Two years’ probation, during which the licence can be revoked
after obtaining six penalty points, instead of the usual 12. Driver must
then retake test.
