Jennifer Horgan: Transport is power — people with disabilities just want to get around

“It feels like we’re flying!” 

Children are quick to recognise power — from the invention of the wheel to the first steam train, to the absolute magic of aviation, our ability to transport ourselves and our goods comes closer to being a superpower.

Stepping off the bus on Sunday, myself and my daughter happen upon President Higgins being escorted from the Imperial Hotel to the army barracks in Cork.  

I muse on the dozens of soldiers in white helmets, atop sleek-looking motorbikes, guarding our Head of State, both upfront and behind, protecting him inside a lovely big black car, flanked by two lovely big black cars. Transport is power, I think again.

Climate activists like Extinction Rebellion block roads for a reason. Rosa Parks changed America by staying in her bus seat in the 1950s, understanding what Dr Martin Luther King later wrote in a posthumously published letter, that transport rights are a “genuine civil rights issue". 

Last Sunday, President Higgins was as safe as an egg in a feathered nest at the centre of his entourage on Cork’s South Mall. But those who rely heavily on public transport, mostly the young and the elderly, are not so protected.

And poor transport, of course, means less power.

For one thing, users of public transport here must contend with violence. Some 55% of women will not use public transport after dark because of it.

Transport is power.

Early this month Senator Aidan Davitt called for gardaí and members of the Defence Forces to be given free travel on public transport to manage the “scourge” of antisocial behaviour. This seems a good idea, to value public transport, and to acknowledge its importance in ordinary lives.

But alongside this particular scourge, people relying on public transport must deal with its poor infrastructure — our State’s unwillingness to share power with ordinary citizens. In May, Dublin was ranked the worst for public transport among 30 European capital cities. The worst.

And what about the issue of absolute neglect? Not poor transport, but no transport whatsoever.

If transport is power, then who are Ireland’s most powerless?

Bus Éireann explains that “an occupied pram or buggy may be parked in this designated space only when it is not required by a wheelchair user”. So, a parent with a small child and a wheelchair user best not cross paths on an Irish bus? Can that be right?

And even if a bus is accessible, and has a manageable number of young and adult bodies on wheels, what about the bus stops?

Jack Kavanagh, who has a spinal cord injury, speaking at a transport conference in 2022 said 75% of people with his kind of injury simply never work again. "This is not because they aren't qualified but because they can't get to work. Overall, 30% of people in the disability sector work compared to 70% of the rest of society," he said. 

Indeed according to this year’s Eurostat figures, Ireland also has the EU’s largest disability employment gap.

Transport is power.

Both of my parents are in wheelchairs and are too nervous to get onto a bus. They use a regular taxi driver whom they must book well in advance. It’s an expensive way to get around.

This week I decided to call my dad an accessible taxi on an app, just to test the service.

To give some context, on paper, myself and my dad should have no problem finding a driver.

A national grant scheme with funding of up to €17,500 is available towards the purchase of a wheelchair-accessible vehicle and new drivers can’t get plates on anything but a wheelchair taxi. As of April 30, there are 3,402 wheelchair-accessible vehicles active nationwide. There are a total of 255 where the licence holder has an address in Co  Cork.

So, I make the call. To be fair, a taxi arrives promptly, in just under 10 minutes. However, the minivan isn’t set up to take a disabled passenger so it takes some time, maybe 10 minutes, but the driver is lovely, chatting away as he constructs the ramp. It looks like heavy work. It takes considerable muscle to get my dad up the ramp and locked in.

I ask him straight up if all drivers accept fares from calls looking for accessible transport.

“Are you joking me?” he laughs. “They do not.

There are plenty of drivers out there that don’t even carry the ramp with them. And they can get away with it by saying they have another fare.

"They’ll avoid parents with prams and shopping too. They just want easy fares.”

According to the National Transport Authority, as of November 2022 an on-the-spot fine can be levied against drivers who refuse to carry a passenger in a wheelchair.

It can even attract a criminal conviction, “given the severity of the impact on those refused a journey and the NTA’s continued pursuit of accessibility to public transport for all”. 

“Well, I can tell you,” our driver says, “they have no way of catching drivers avoiding fares. I picked up a man in Midleton yesterday who hadn’t left his house in three years because he couldn’t get a taxi. Even when he has a medical appointment, he has no hope of getting there unless the HSE provide a car.”

The first principle of universal design is equitable use and that’s exactly what we need in Ireland — a transport system that works for everyone.

Myself and my dad did OK on our trip out but our driver revealed a harrowing reality for people who live beyond the city, inconveniently far away.

What’s to be done? Perhaps we need to incentivise drivers as they do in Australia, offering them a guaranteed ‘lift’ payment for any journey carrying a passenger with a disability. Under their Taxi Subsidy Scheme such passengers only pay half their fare, the rest is government-funded.

Instead of calling drivers lazy, do we need to acknowledge the care work involved?

Is this less of an issue with taxi drivers being lazy and more of an issue with undervaluing care? Again!

If transport is power we must acknowledge and value the people who transport us rather than rely on their good will.

Whatever the answer, I’ve been thinking about that man in Midleton all week. Unlike my daughter, he’s not looking to feel like he can fly. He is not a VIP asking for a fancy procession to accompany him as he moves around his city.

He’s asking for the right to move at all.