ROAD WAGE

Kate Chisholm is furious about Red Ken's

congestion charges — and predicts that they will just make matters worse

WELCOME to the Middle Ages. London is about to re-enter the era of head counts as you pass in and out of the City gates; of night watchmen and midnight curfews; of barking dogs set upon those moving without permission.

Congestion charging and the way Transport for London (TfL), courtesy of the Mayor of London (as the literature proudly announces), proposes to implement it is not just a crazy solution to our current traffic chaos; it has insidious implications for the kind of society we live in.

From 17 February 2003, announces the booklet and registration form distributed to the 83,000 households within the congestion zone (which stretches from Vauxhall Bridge to Tower Bridge, and King's Cross to Elephant and Castle), 'Anyone, except those exempt or discounted, driving or parking a vehicle on public roads in the congestion charging zone between 7 a.m. and 6.30 p.m. Monday to Friday (excluding bank holidays), has to pay the daily congestion charge of £5: If you ride a bicycle (as I do), have a child with asthma, endure daily the nervetautening effects of a London traffic jam, you might well say, 'And about time too. The traffic in London is ridiculous. We've got to find some way to cut the number of cars and persuade people to use the Tube, or the buses. their feet, an electric scooter.' But is this the way to do it?

Read on: `The congestion charge can be paid in advance or on the day of travel. The charge is £5 if paid by 10 p.m. on the day of travel. An additional £5 surcharge applies for payment between 10 p.m. and midnight on the day of travel.'

If by ten o'clock you have forgotten to pay your fee, you have two hours before the passing of the witching hour will set in train a sequence of events that will do serious damage to your bank balance and, no doubt, also to your credit status with those shadowy computer centres that log your every financial indiscretion.

`If the charge is not paid by midnight on the day of travel, the registered keeper will be sent a penalty charge notice of £80. [WhatH As with parking penalties, this is reduced to £40 for prompt payment within 14 days.' But if you fail to pay within 28 days, then the penalty increases to £120.

Residents within the zone have been granted a 90 per cent discount, which may sound generous until you realise that you're not allowed to pay a single 50p day charge (such a small fee, says Transport for London, would not cover the adminis tration costs). Instead you have to pay on either a weekly (£2.50), monthly (£10) or annual (£126) basis. So if, like me, you live in the congestion zone but only use your car about twice a month, you have to pay at the rate of 50p a day; in other words, as if you use the car every day. This applies even if you simply move your car 100 yards from a parking meter to a residents' parking zone.

From now on anyone who enters or leaves or travels within London in a motorised vehicle, registered in their name, will have to pay for the privilege — and will be logged into a computer. Cameras 230 of them — placed at the zone boundaries and within the zone will record your VRN, tracking all vehicle movements within the capital.

TfL ostensibly does not see anything ominous about this, but when I rang the information line to find out how to complete their incomprehensible eight-page registration form, its automated phone system replied, `To find out about Alternative Means of Transport please call 020 7222 1234.' And then went on. `To hear more data protection information, select six from the menu option.'

Data protection information? Why should I be worried about that? I thought cars were the problem. But, of course, TfL not only wants to know who has travelled within the zone but also who are the 'persistent evaders' and those falsely claiming residents' status. So, when you sign your Residents' Discount Registration Form, you are warned that `TfL needs to identify possible fraudulent use of discounts' and are asked to `accept that this may include on-street and residential checks, and the analysis of the movements of randomly selected vehicles in the congestion charging zone'.

A breezy young man at the TfL press office told me, 'There's nothing to worry about. There are two databases and anyone who has paid will be immediately wiped off.'

`Um sorry. How many databases did you say there would be? Who will be wiped off, and whose VRN will be kept?'

'Well, the cameras record the registration plates of every car, and the numbers are matched against those who have paid or who are entitled to a discount.'

Tut how many cars are expected to pass through the zone every day?'

'About 250,000: 'So you'll be recording 250,000 numbers every day? Supposing some of them can't be read. What happens if there's a mistake?'

'Any numbers that can't be read by the computer will be read by humans.'

Well, there's a relief. Meanwhile I began to wonder. I am going to be paying the charge by the week, since I so seldom use my car. But that will require the sort of forward planning which cannot be expected of anyone. How am I supposed to know when I will wish to use my car (which is parked in a garage beneath my flat; a perk for which I already pay a hefty council tax)? What happens if I have to rush down to see my elderly parents in Berkshire late one afternoon, but have not paid a congestion charge for that week and then forget to do so before midnight? And how many people will genuinely forget to pay the charge in their rush to take Aunt Aggy to the doctor or collect Joe from the child-minder? Will they then be expected to cough up £80? What happens if they refuse, begging compassionate reasons?

'There will be an appeals system — just as with parking tickets,' the TfL press officer told me. As anyone who has endured that process will know: forget it!

Who, in any case, dreamt up the bizarre system of payment? Buried within the form is an explanation of where you can pay: online (not available at home to everyone with cars), via a call centre (add the cost of an extended phone-call), at most post offices within the congestion zone, at self-service machines in carparks, or at 'selected' petrol stations and retail outlets. How do you find a 'selected' retail outlet? And how does Transport for London intend to enforce payment?

National Car Parks (NCP) has been given the contract to provide On-Street Enforcement services; i.e., it will uniform up Congestion Charge Enforcement Officers whose job will be to patrol the streets identifying 'persistent evaders' and authorising the removal of their cars to the pound. These on-street patrols will cover the 'entire Greater London area'. •So beware, Ruislip; no one is safe, 'We must not make a scarecrow of the law,' says Angelo in Measure for Measure. Where laws are unenforceable, then government is brought into disrepute. Previously law-abiding citizens will find themselves involved in a legal process that assumes they are guilty until proven innocent.

The idea of congestion charges is not new: Singapore has had them since the 1970s (drivers pay money into an account from which the toll is deducted automatically whenever their car passes a roadside sensor); in Oslo tolls on roads into the city are collected via automated booths. But nowhere else has yet used cameras in this way, or introduced such a complicated payment system, which, if anything, will encourage residents of the capital to use their cars more — 'I've bought a weekly pass. so I might as well use my car to go to the common rather than walk there or go by bus.'

London is grinding to a halt: it took an hour to negotiate the Vauxhall Cross junction at ten o'clock on a Sunday night (so bad was the jam that not even fire engines or ambulances could get through). We have to find new ways of getting about the capital. But London is a working city, not a tourist trap. We need to keep it moving and accessible for everyone — not just for those who, like Ken, prefer to travel by taxi.