Sneaky snappers
Alan Judd
They are becoming all too familiar, the large, plain white envelopes in the post that could — just could — contain a nice letter from Ernie, but don't. The first thing you see inside is the proud crest of whichever police force is summoning you. In my case it was the Essex police, saying they intended to prosecute me for committing a road traffic offence at 1900hrs on Sunday 28 October when the car of which I am the registered owner was photographed doing 42mph in a 30mph limit at Lodge Lane, Grays, Essex.
When speed cameras were about to be introduced we were told they would be placed at what most of us call accident blackspots, but which those who make their livings out of these things now call hot spots. (I've no idea whether this is due to political correctness or the common desire of Jobsworths to show they're doing something by naming things differently.) The laudable purpose of these cameras was to reduce accidents. Then we were told that they would also be put at other places where it was dangerous to speed, in order to slow people down. We were assured that, although the police would be allowed to keep much of the revenue raised through fines, cameras would not be used for revenue-raising purposes. That means that their prime use was not to catch us once we had broken the law, but to deter us from breaking it at all. For the good bureaucrat that's a wonderful idea: if it works you get credit for freeing the courts and police time, and probably for reducing accidents; if it fails — by failing to deter us — you get more money. Much more.
The result, as we've all seen, is that many speed cameras are sited on straight stretches of road where it is reasonably safe to drive reasonably fast. Whether this is for revenue-raising purposes or because good sight angles are easier to achieve, I don't know. Some police forces make their cameras visible so that traffic slows, others opt for a sneaky, low-profile, revenue-raising approach.
This leads to very many more people with points on their licences and fines, sometimes hefty. If you don't accept the fixed penalty but contest the case, fines seem to get heavier. There are stories of drivers who lost their licences on a single journey by going through three or four camera clusters and picking up three points at each. The unsurprising result of this is that some people cheat, by bribing someone else to say they were driving, or by putting up false number plates. This latter is easy; although there will soon be greater regulation of number plates, currently you can get virtually any with no questions. What the cheats do is clone another car by looking out for one identical to their own — same model, colour and year — copy its number plate and screw it on. Any policeman making only a cursory check with the DVLA computer at Swansea will see that the number and car match. The innocent owner then gets your speeding summonses and has the not-always-easy task of proving he wasn't there.
This is what I at first thought had happened to me. I've never been to Grays, Essex, and was at home at seven o'clock that Sunday evening, though I doubt I could produce convincing evidence. Fortunately, I didn't have to because a glance at the photo of the rear of my alleged speeding car showed that it wasn't my Range Rover at all but a small, 200 series Rover saloon. They're about as hard to tell apart as an apple and a grape. A second glance showed that the registration number wasn't mine, either. This error was more forgivable because the plates differ by only one letter: where mine has a G, the Rover has a C, and the photo was not very clear. I sent off the form, explaining all this, but have heard nothing. Perhaps the courtesy of an acknowledgment, let alone an apology, is too much to expect, and the next white envelope will be a summons for non-payment of 'my' fine.
One reason we speed is that cars have changed more than speed limits. They're so much faster, and so much safer at speed, that nobody but a milkman can ever not break the limit sometimes. Especially in some cars. Father Christmas is bringing me a Bentley Arnage this month (and taking it away again, sadly). Watch this space. I'll watch for the white envelopes.
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