A lack of road rage

As everyone who will read this already knows, I ride a motorcycle, and I don't own a car. Which means I ride a motorcycle in winter.

This is relevant, because I think it's connected to the increase in motorists doing really stupid things that threaten to involve me in accidents. Motorcycles in winter aren't that common; I see a tiny fraction of the number of other bikes on the road that I see in summer, and believe me, I notice motorcycles on the road if they're there, because I'm looking for them. I love motorbikes and I love seeing them.

So, today.

I had somewhere to be. On the way, a car pulled out from a side road directly in front of me. I had to brake sharply, and beep my little horn at the driver. For some reason I always beep three times, one long, two short. I did that today, and a number of highly uncomplimentary thoughts about the driver crossed my mind. As I often do, I fantasised momentarily about yelling at him for it. I always want to because I want drivers to be made aware of what they nearly did, and I never do it, because I'm not a huge fan of confrontation.

(No, really. Once I'm in an argument with someone I'll get into it and I'll want to win it, but I don't look for one.)

Not far beyond the point where this happened, there was a red light. Couple of cars queued in each lane. Being on a motorbike and all, I went between the lanes to go to the front.

I could see from behind that the driver of the car that pulled out in front of me had his window open, and it occurred to me that if I wanted to tell him off I could; he'd hear me, I could say some choice words and move on ahead of him. If ever I had an opportunity to hurl abuse at someone without giving them the chance of riposte, this was it.

I wouldn't do it, but it was a nice thought.

Then I went past the car.

I glanced down at the driver as I idled past. If he could have seen my face he would have seen I was glaring mildly until I saw him, but between helmet and my big giant sunglasses my face isn't really visible when I'm riding in daylight. So all he saw was the helmet turn towards him briefly and then I was past.

I saw him, through his open window.

He was an older gent, maybe seventy, wearing a tan suit. And he was hunching down and away with his shoulders at the same time as he was looking up at me with an expression that mingled guilt and fear and shame, and I felt terrible.

He did know what he'd done, and what the consequences could have been. He knew that he could have hurt me, could have killed me, and that I'd probably be angry, and he was afraid of my rage. He was old. I'm not. I could hurt him. I wouldn't - even more than I wouldn't, in general, assault someone, we're up against the thing where I tend to like old people - but he didn't know that, and I felt awful for his fear when he'd just not seen me.

The trouble, of course, being that a small error on his part, in the scale of it being quite easy to do, can have big giant consequences for me; we were both lucky that it happened well within the margin where my observation that he was there and general constant preparedness for something like this to happen meant that I reacted carefully and there wasn't any kind of accident, but if he'd pulled out two seconds later it would perhaps have been a very different matter.

But the real epiphany, for me, was that road rage is worse than pointless.

Let's say I'd hurled abuse at him. Shouted what I'd thought: "Look before you pull out, you moron! You could have killed me! You idiot!"

Well. In the case of the driver who'd done it, it would have heaped aggression and insult and demeaning insults on someone who didn't need that. He knew he'd made a mistake and one that could have been serious. He already felt bad enough.

Had he been the kind of driver who never sees himself as being the one in the wrong, it just would have certified his view that obviously I was a dangerous lunatic. Or it may not even have become that rational, he'd just throw that aggression back at me. Still no benefit to be had for anyone.

It's not really a novel idea that rage and abusive behaviour are non-productive, but it's something I've been thinking about today. Because I can still see that old man shying away from the window of his car, looking guilty and afraid and ashamed, and I hate that image. I can't help but think that if this weren't a world where people are afraid of other drivers' road rage, he'd have looked apologetic and guilty but he wouldn't have had to retreat bodily from someone passing his car window, just apologised to me through it.

I would have been okay with that.