A couple of weekends ago, I was reminded of my recent trip to London by Bernard Salt’s article in The Australian. Writing from Amsterdam, Bernard was struck by something that he hadn’t really noticed before: Europeans are just not as risk-averse as Australians. In his article he mentions trams running fast through crowded streets, uneven cobbled footpaths, smoking in outdoor cafes, fireworks in the hands of ordinary people, and bikes being ridden without helmets.
All the everyday risks we’ve been regulating out of Australian life.
I’ve spent a great deal of time in France and, on my return to Australia, I was always frustrated to be reminded of how much we had lost in our culture with the demise of the casual commute to work by bike. I saw the same thing in London recently: men and women in business attire riding to work with their briefcases and shoulder bags, in no apparent hurry and enjoying themselves. Helmets almost nowhere to be seen.
In the Netherlands it’s even more pronounced. I remember seeing a mother with a couple of children on a tandem bike, making her way down one of the many dedicated lanes, not a helmet in sight. The contrast with Perth is striking. Most riders are in Lycra, in a hurry, and helmeted, except for the few rebellious souls and free thinkers prepared to take their chances with the law.
I’ve got nothing against helmets. As a mountain biker, there’s no way I would venture out doing the insane things I did without one. I’m grateful I chose to wear a helmet mountain biking in Nannup the day I earned my spot on Australia’s Funniest Home Videos for ‘skillfully’ landing a jump squarely on my head. That was off-road, where helmets aren’t compulsory and risks entirely up to those daring to venture out. And I’m glad I did. The crack in that helmet would otherwise have been in my skull.
But bombing down a pine plantation for the adrenaline is not the same as riding to the shops for milk.
The casualty of WA’s helmet laws wasn’t just the loss of that pleasant, hassle-free ride around the river without helmet hair. It was the loss of physical wellbeing for the tens of thousands of Western Australians who parked their bikes in the shed, never to pick them up again. When the law came into effect, cyclist numbers dropped sharply, and government counts on the bridges over the Swan River took the better part of two decades to climb back – even as our population grew by a third. Thousands gave up and never went back, forfeiting the health benefits and social wellbeing that came with the ride.
I know some will say the law saved lives, and that’s certainly an argument worth having. But by the same logic, there are people who’d happily ban motorcycles. Where does it end? It’s the same instinct that walls our bottle shops off from the supermarket, while the rest of the world buys a bottle of wine at a corner deli, an assumption that we can’t be trusted to manage our own lives.
Returning to Bernard Salt’s article: he concludes that the differences between Australia and Europe ‘have probably always existed’ and says that ‘we have leant into regulation. We are risk averse. We are concerned about the future. We grind our footpaths smooth. To some extent these values deliver a better, safer Australia’. I find that a curious observation. My own recollection suggests that something has changed.
Although Australia was founded in a profoundly different way to any European nation, as a Gen Xer I remember a time, not so long ago, when Australians were more easy-going and not so risk-averse. I remember the lava-hot slides, the blue-metal ‘cushioning’ below the steel frame monkey bars, drinking from garden taps, riding in the back of utes and panel vans, no bike helmets; and my dad running a remote mine site and townsite for 13 years with not a hint of hi-vis anywhere, and yet without a serious injury or fatality in all that time.
Some regulations have undoubtedly made Australia safer, and that is no bad thing. Yet I question whether the endless pursuit of the unattainable goal of ‘zero harm’ has made Australia better. When the most risk-averse end up in positions of influence and power (and many do) and when governments put bureaucratic regulation above self-regulation (and they do), the natural tendency of those in power is to see every risk as something they must do ‘something’ about. Like the helicopter parent, governments cannot (nor should they try to) keep us from all possible harms. It’s not just impossible, it’s soul-destroying.
As a good friend wrote almost a decade ago when the newly minted McGowan Labor government decided to ban full-strength beer at the new Perth Stadium: ‘We are not small children, and the government is not our nanny. We don’t need to be protected from ourselves by people in positions of power who get to decide what is best for us.’ (Spectator Australia, 13 June 2017, Nicola Wright).
As I often say, we need more education, and less legislation. Trust people to weigh their own risks the way every adult does a hundred times a day without a government department to hold their hands.
We should protect what’s sensible. But as Bernard Salt finally concluded, ‘Perhaps we shouldn’t let our penchant for regulation become a national obsession.’ I couldn’t agree more!
Phil Twiss is a Liberal Member of the Western Australian Legislative Council. He served in the Royal Australian Navy before working in engineering, resources and small business, and is currently Deputy Chair of the Standing Committee on Environment and Public Affairs.
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