The man in the blue shirt and khaki shorts has a look of bemusement on his
face. He looks round once or twice, scanning the street, then holds his hand
to his mouth. The reality has hit him: his bike has been stolen.
He collars passers-by outside a betting shop and asks if they have seen it.
Then, his shoulders visibly drooping, he gets out his phone to call his
wife. Soon a crowd gathers.
The scene will be a familiar one to many cyclists in Britain, but in this case
so was the victim. David Cameron, the Tory leader and perhaps Britain’s most
famous advocate of two-wheeled transport, had had his bike pinched while he
popped into his local Tesco supermarket in north Kensington to “buy some
salad”. Naturally, there were people with camera phones around to place film
of the aftermath of the crime, if not the act itself, on the internet.
Cameron dismissed onlookers’ requests for a shared photo.
The next day he had recovered his equanimity enough to joke that he had severe
punishments in mind for the thieves, if caught. “I’m contemplating
introducing sharia law for bicycle theft,” he said. “I will consult the
mayor of London.” Boris Johnson, the mayor and a fellow Tory, has had seven
bikes stolen in the past few years.
Behind the jokey exterior Cameron clearly felt the anger that has beset
millions of other cyclists faced with the unexpected loss of their steeds.
Mostly, such thefts go unnoticed. According to the British Crime Survey about
440,000 bikes are stolen every year. Many of these thefts are thought to go
unreported because most cyclists know from bitter experience that the chance
of the police finding their bike or catching the culprit is negligible.
Such figures have long been disregarded by the authorities. The police make
almost no effort to catch bike thieves – the clear-up rate is about 5%
according to CTC, the national cyclists’ association. What’s more, the few
who are caught face derisory sentences, usually antisocial behaviour orders
(Asbos) or suspended sentences.
The government has resisted requests from cycling groups to promote tougher
sentences for cycle theft, and local authorities have ignored calls to
reduce the epidemic by installing secure parking and other facilities. Even
Cameron’s own spokesman seemed to share that view. “He knew it was only a
petty crime,” he said. “Police in that area have more pressing things to do.”
Such disregard for cycle theft fits strangely with the hardening of attitudes
towards other types of crime. Especially when cycling is meant to be at the
heart of the government’s strategies for promoting sustainable transport,
reducing obesity and cutting urban pollution. Allowing rampant bike theft is
a huge deterrent for people considering switching to two wheels.
Why is cycle theft treated so lightly? Is it because cyclists themselves have
an ambiguous image – on the one hand as champions of sustainable transport
but on the other as light-jumping lawbreakers? Or is it simply because the
police have been able to ignore bike crime for so long without anyone
important making a fuss?
NOWHERE does the sheer scale and openness of the bicycle crime scene manifest
itself better than in the grimy back streets around Brick Lane in London’s
East End.
There, bike thieves stage impromptu markets on most days of the week. Most
obvious are the teenage street hawkers who stand in groups, each of them
holding a single cycle. Many are £1,000plus machines that would clearly be
beyond the pockets of most youngsters.
One keen cyclist, who goes to Brick Lane whenever he needs an upgrade, said he
had just bought a Bianchi 2007, worth £1,200 new, for only £120. “The kids
are very accommodating,” he said. “You can haggle, and once they even threw
in a free bicycle pump.”
Another group are the stallholders, offering an Aladdin’s cave of spare bike
parts, mostly stripped from stolen machines, including mudguards, lamps,
tyre pumps, wheels, hubs and chains.
The youths change location slightly, using different streets each week to try
to make it harder for police and trading standards officers, but it is a
token effort: they know nobody will bother them.
Canny Londoners whose bikes are stolen even go to the market in the hope of
finding them. One local trader, a legitimate one, said: “We’ve had stabbings
here when people have tried to reclaim their stolen bikes from these
teenagers.”
Such scenes are common in cities all over Britain. Although London accounts
for the greatest number of bike thefts – more than 21,000 were reported in
2005-6 – such criminal activity goes on across the country. A bike is stolen
every 65 seconds in Britain, according to Halifax Home Insurance. Hotspots
outside the capital include Reading, Bristol, Gloucester and Oxford.
If they aren’t sold at street markets, then they often appear on internet
auction sites such as eBay, craigslist and Loot. Prospective purchasers have
no way of knowing whether the seller is the legitimate owner.
What’s more, cycle crime is often linked to other antisocial behaviour. Many
thefts are carried out by drug addicts desperate for their next hit.
However, in some cases, criminals have turned bike theft into a cottage
industry. Daniel Westrop, 28, stole 1,347 cycles worth £300,000 in just six
months. Using bolt-cutters to break off cheap locks, Westrop targeted
commuters who left their bikes at railway stations while they travelled to
London. Sometimes he rode off with three a day. Yet when Westrop, of
Bromley, Kent, was finally caught and admitted the offences last year, he
escaped a jail sentence.
Cycling campaigners have long been convinced that the authorities are not
taking the matter seriously enough. “There is a cultural problem about bike
thefts and cyclists in general,” said Roger Geffen, campaigns and policy
manager at CTC. “There is a perception that bikes are scruffy cheap things.”
One manifestation of this attitude is that local authorities ignore cyclists’
needs when designing roads and installing street furniture. As Cameron
found, just finding somewhere to park can be a continual problem because of
a lack of bike racks. He had been forced to chain his bike to a 3ft bollard
from which it could easily be lifted.
There is also no obligation on landowners such as Tesco to provide cycle
racks, even though this could easily be made a planning condition. Tesco
concedes that it has no policy for encouraging shoppers to switch to bikes –
despite claiming it is doing all it can to cut carbon emissions.
Many experienced cyclists take increasingly extreme antitheft measures,
investing in huge locks designed for motorcycles, backed up by microchipping
devices that can be buried deep within the frame to confirm ownership should
it be stolen. One of the latest devices, the Bullett lock, has a deafening
110-decibel alarm that goes off if someone interferes with a bike.
Cycle thieves are, however, just as capable of exploiting modern technology.
One of the latest tricks is to freeze locks with liquid refrigerant from
spray cans and then shatter them with a hammer. Thieves can even improve
their skills on the internet, thanks to YouTube. Type in the words “bike
lock” and a string of helpful videos flashes up. In one a faceless narrator
explains: “In this episode you will learn how you can crack a standard
four-digit bike lock in around 30 seconds – and you won’t be needing any
tools either!”
IF THEFT remains a problem, the government at least seems to be improving its
attitude towards cycling, which is recognised as one of the most sustainable
forms of transport and also a healthy one.
Last month Bristol became England’s first “cycling city” as part of a £100m
government scheme aimed at doubling the number of cyclists over the next
three years. The city is being given £11.4m to transform cycling by creating
dedicated cycle lanes, better facilities and more training for children.
Among the features in Bristol will be the UK’s first major bicycle rental
network, modelled on a scheme in Barcelona and Paris. Sharing the funding
will be York, Stoke, Blackpool, Cambridge, Chester, Colchester, Leighton
Buzzard, Southend, Shrewsbury, Southport and Woking.
Other countries are well ahead of us. Amsterdam, Copenhagen and, most
recently, Paris have all shown how promoting cycling can change a city for
the better, making it friendlier to pedestrians and cleaner for everyone.
In Britain, however, the barriers to increasing cycling are as much
psychological as physical. Many drivers have a pathological hatred of
cyclists – a view articulated by Jeremy Clarkson, the Sunday Times columnist
and presenter of Top Gear, who once jokingly vowed to kill cyclists “for
fun” if they failed to respect the Highway Code. He provoked furious debate
on the pages of cycling magazines and websites.
Clarkson’s extreme language contained, however, a truth that cyclists are
reluctant to admit: that many behave like urban outlaws, jumping red lights,
riding on pavements and failing to use lights at night.
Could it be that Cameron, Johnson and their fellow cyclist George Osborne, the
prospective chancellor if the Conservatives win the next general election,
might be the men to reconcile such strongly opposed views?
Geffen believes that the shift towards cycling is in any case unstoppable –
especially with rising fuel costs.
“Once drivers start cycling themselves, they are more likely to start treating
us as normal people,” said Geffen. “And the safer it becomes, the more
likely it is to lead to a new wave. Cycling is at last coming of age in this
country.”
For the government – potentially Cameron’s – making cyclists safe from
thievery will be a crucial element in achieving that transformation.
Judging by the 600,000 viewings that that YouTube clip has received, and the
4½ stars out of five given by its audience, it could be an uphill struggle.
Additional reporting: Shiv Malik, Georgia Warren
The biker’s fear of the thief
You never really own a bike – you merely look after it until the next thief
comes along, writes Kate Spicer. No matter how cheap or clapped-out your
bike, there’s someone out there who wants it.
In the absence of secure public storage, like the thief-proof lockers
developed in great cycling nations such as Holland and Denmark, bicycles are
always vulnerable in Britain. The police are not interested in catching bike
thieves so the only solution is prevention.
Never leave your bike in a public place, locked or not. Security for me
involves lugging my bike up three flights of stairs to my flat.
I don’t own a lock. When I went into a bike shop to buy two locks for my new
road bike, the man behind the counter said: “I ain’t selling you a lock for
that, love.” His rationale? That if a nice bike like mine were locked it
would be in a public place – and if it were in a public place it would be
stolen. Fact.
Engaging all the armoury and tactics available in the war against the thieving
little tykes – locks, wheel clamps, removing anything that isn’t fixed to
lock or frame – needs to be supplemented with further strategy.
Could the thing the bike is locked to be removed? Bits of railing, small trees
and some bike parks are easily dispatched with a saw.
Is it on a well-lit street? Sometimes it’s better to lock a bike somewhere
weird – behind a skip in a dirty yard, say – than to chain it expertly in a
proper bike park. Thieves may be opportunistic but they have their hunting
grounds.
Have you parked your bike next to a more expensive machine that is less
securely locked than your own? I’ve taken to pretending that I’ve lost my
lock and asking kindly receptionists to let me leave my bike inside office
buildings. This works reasonably well, but don’t try it at the passport
office, as I did recently – they’ll only think you are wheeling in a
complicated pipe bomb.
One of the few public places it is safe to leave a bike in London is at the
rear entrance to the Israeli embassy behind Kensington Gardens. Here there
are lot of highly trained, heavily armed and friendly policeman who are a
deterrent to even the most stealthy and determined bike robber. So far.
