Jottum, the public broadcaster about the car, that is slaughtering. In Hilversum, the sacred cow is still regarded as a child murderer, climate destroyer, brat; the space-consuming, venomous nemesis of good. But the attacker on duty is the EO, so at least there’s no swearing. Let’s see how the politically correct flag hangs.
This is the issue is the name of the program and I could have drawn up the scenario. Nothing new heard. The presenters Margje Fikse, Kefah Allush and Tijs van den Brink lead the usual round of car shame & car shaming. The experts approached come directly from the Ecological Exemplarity Handbook. The Cycling Professor, the Traffic Psychologist, the Conscious Car Fighting Traffic Councilor. They shake their heads in agreement with the concerns of the makers. “Something strange is going on with us,” says Allush, “we seem more dependent on the car than ever.” Are we addicted to the car? “We apparently can’t get him to stand.”
Well, how is that possible? Failing public transport, the hectic pace of the dual-income life with all the logistical complications that entails – do you find it strange that you trip over the cars in front of primary schools in the morning? Those people have to go to work. The better word for addiction is dependency relationship.
They also find out at the EO. Margje Fikse, who lives in the countryside, takes the train for a change. Phew, that’s no good. Anyway, back to the car. With the traffic psychologist at her side. Because geez, she won’t be addicted to that stupid thing, will she? The traffic professor diagnoses the mess in her Land Rover as the need for a piece of her own territory. You wonder which tile wisdom academy he got his degree from.
Am I addicted to the car?, she asks him.
Well, he does think she relies heavily on him in Her Daily Patterns.
That sets the tone. All the experts on duty say what any layman could have said. “Parking spaces are very stressful for a child,” says the cycling professor. And how devilishly the car is an obstacle to social cohesion! The Utrecht traffic alderman lives in a narrow old street with cars on both sides. As a result, children cannot play outside, it is terrible. Allush and the cycling professor cycle through a neighborhood full of neatly parked cars. These days they pay dearly everywhere for their place, but they are no good at all. Look at that, says the cycling professor. Imagine they were gone, then paradise on earth would dawn. Then you could meet each other, the good guys could roll out sustainable greenery everywhere, peace would return.
And so on.
Fortunately, Peter Staal of the KNAC is allowed to point out the other side of the coin. The increasing dependence on cars in an aging society, for example; reduced mobility means more mobility. But perhaps someone could have cautiously asked if the enemy image might not be slightly adjusted. I missed one angle, and not the least relevant one; that the Enemy is fast becoming a Friend. It becomes clean, no longer makes noise (also a risk, but that perhaps fits less in the hate model), increasingly brakes itself for pedestrians, animals and children and, by order of Brussels, is built in such a way that it offers maximum protection against a collision. But it can’t be him. The ingrained hate reflex does not allow it. The car must remain the boogeyman.
And that touches me. I myself am indeed addicted to the car. And that for 55 years, because the first signs of excessive interest in things on wheels manifested themselves when I was two. Furthermore I am guilty as hell with four cars, only one of which is electric. On the scale of error I score maximum. Still, the cycling professor will rarely see me in a car in my living environment.
Precisely because I am addicted, I drive as little as possible; only if there is no other option, and further only if I am sure that I will enjoy it, which is rarely the case in the Netherlands. If you see a fat white man walking or cycling in and around Groningen on his old steed with cross frame and coaster brake – ten to one that it’s me. Daily ten kilometers on foot, the rest by bicycle. I never drive here. I’ll be careful. No use.
The small convertible that I recently added to the collection will therefore not often leave the garage. After two hours of driving, the Red Cross and a masseuse must also be ready to patch me up, because a bed of nails is wellness next to that rocking horse. Furthermore, the Hilversum community has little to say about my Copen. The cycling professor hears me coming. He gets 1 in 20. I hardly take up any space. I can’t take a load of kids to school with it. They are already out of the house anyway. They have a driver’s license, but no car. Way too expensive, and why should you? But ten years from now, when they have children of their own and have fled to the countryside for house prices, they will come from their villages to the city to take the offspring I already look forward to to football or theater and to use their very expensive plug-in cars at the office. to deserve. Wondering where they will be allowed to park those bitches in the traffic-calmed enclaves of the local aldermen’s caste. The country car addicted? Get real. The car is necessary.
– Thanks for information from Autoweek.nl