Rob reckons that when it comes to getting a driving licence, it is different strokes for different folks
Odd bits of discussions between the Friday lunch crew at our fav inner-city Vietnamese often turn up in my columns. Rob van Driesum who crisscrossed a range of continents and oceans aboard variously powered conveyances as a young fella often adds an international perspective to the conversations.
My recent comments about local newbie drivers choosing the soft-option ‘auto-only’ driving licence led to a wider discussion about licences and driving skills. Van Driesum pointed us to an article that labelled licence testing in the Netherlands as pretty tough. The Dutch are apparently in no hurry to allow novice drivers on the road with three to five-month licence-test waiting times.
Applicants sitting the 65-question theory exam have to complete each of its three sections within varying specified time limits. Apparently, they test road rules widely, including truck and moped questions. Even some tow-rope and horse questions – horses being led versus horses being ridden. Also dealing with funeral processions and military convoys – and a simple “Stop and wait!” just doesn’t cut it – you need to identify military flags displayed by various vehicles in convoys.
Driving tests after numerous lessons with licensed driving instructors in dual-control cars are conducted in congested conditions that include the expected heavy dose of bicycle traffic. Apparently, all control inputs and even mirror use come under close scrutiny, ensuring they are being done in the ‘Dutch way’ whatever that means to the individual tester. With only 30 per cent passing first time, applicants typically spend from $2500–4000 to become street-legal.
During my time in the UK, its approach, like Europe’s, seemed relatively tough. For the record one UK applicant finally scored a licence at his 158th attempt while a bloke in Poland is still sans-licence after 192 attempts over 17 years!
Getting your licence is easier here in my view for a logical reason. For the average Aussie a car is pretty much essential – for the average Brit or Euro, not so much. British and European public transport networks generally provide more realistic and affordable alternatives to private vehicle use than typical Australian setups. We’re not good at networks here. While trains link suburbs to our city centres reasonably efficiently, cross-links between suburbs and links with rural areas are primitive at best with basics like coordinating train arrivals to support bus departures seemingly beyond us.
Give me a break. There’s nothing coming
I noticed that young apprentices and mechanics on my team in England hadn’t rushed to get licences on their qualifying birthdays the way my mates and I did here. One still hadn’t bothered at age 22. Trains and buses did the job for him.
So the UK and European systems where the licence-test bar is set higher just wouldn’t work here. It seems our masters are between a rock and a hard place – unable to provide our sprawling population centres with adequate public transport to support people’s work and lifestyle needs they can’t put too many barriers in the way of giving them licences.
Our virtually universal access to licences combined with rising traffic levels using mediocre infrastructure means we all inevitably pay a price in the essential interests of road safety. I’ve noticed the progressive deskilling of driving as authorities whittle away the scope for us to thoughtfully exercise our judgement. Who can believe that 130km/h-safe interstate freeways are throttled back to 110km/h?
Who remembers safe overtaking?
Or that we sit through full traffic-light cycles, with no oncoming vehicles in sight, prevented from making a right turn by a red arrow. Or that continuous white lines rule out numerous safe overtaking opportunities on lovely winding two-lane roads through the hills. Then there’s the creeping introduction in Victoria of blanket 80km/h limits on all rural roads except freeways. And hopes I once held for allowable left turns through red lights as enjoyed in many jurisdictions now seem Utopian.
Thankfully, our masters, bless them, employ a rigorous national licensing system for heavy-vehicle (truck) drivers these days. Not so during my 1960s student days, however. I answered a few truck questions put to me by the local sergeant, showed my car licence, and handed him a letter from a truck-licence holder stating I was competent. When the sergeant then asked to see my truck I took him out to the street and pointed to the International tipper I had parked nearby. His next move surprised me. It was something like: “Good lad. All done.” That was it – he didn’t even ask me to do a demonstration drive-by.
From Unique Cars #477, April 2023