Decisions, decisions

 Recently I’ve been talking a lot about how people make decisions. Partly because I’ve been wrestling with one or two of my own. But mainly because I have spent much of the last month conducting psychometric debriefs with some of my colleagues. It’s an interesting exercise in and of itself, most people like talking about themselves, and when combined with a contextual knowledge and the wisdom that comes from staying alive for 57 years, it can be quite useful.

Immediately before both my latest bike rides I had to decide if I even wanted to go out on two wheels at all. On Friday it was hammering with rain, I was a bit down in the dumps and I did consider calling my friend and calling it off. But I was on annual leave from work, hadn’t been particularly active of late, and knew I needed to get used to riding the steel bike in preparation for the Winter. My heart said “no” but my head told me to shift my butt and get outside into the deluge. I was so glad I did of course, for the rain soon abated, my friend and I toddled over to a great cafe in Baltonsborough, and I felt suitably virtuous as I lolled on the sofa that evening.

This morning it was a similar story, although this time it was the prospect of the wind blowing me to kingdom come. The overnight gales had blown though at pace, leaving gallons of water in voluminous puddles on most of the roads, so whilst there was the prospect of a soaking, it was more the wall of wind resistance that was putting me off. But my friend today was keen to get out and faced with his determination I too battened down the hatches and sailed into the Autumn gales. 

Yet again I was rewarded with a thoroughly enjoyable morning, interesting navigation of the roads, or rivers as they seemed today, along with insightful conversation and an educational stop at the cafe at the Avalon Marshes Centre. A good decision, made on the basis of logic not emotion, which leaves me with positive feelings none the less.

I’ve also had a few interesting encounters with cars lately, necessitating more video uploads to Avon and Somerset Police. After my court appearance last December I thought I’d be unlikely to do much reporting in the future for two reasons. Partly because it’s one extra thing to do at the end of a ride, but also because I was becoming a bit immune to the feelings of danger all around me. I felt that if I was not actually scared, or in fear for my safety, then it was wrong to report it. But after attending a Bristol cycling campaign Zoom meeting, talking to a  local Twitter contact who uploads, as well as hearing from the Police themselves, I started to examine my values and logic around the whole issue.

Occasionally I do encounter an overtly aggressive and malicious piece of driving, but in truth it’s very rare. Even the Court case could be argued to be born of frustration rather than psychosis. The real danger out there on the roads comes from everyday carelessness and judgement, coupled with a complete lack of understanding of the potential harm that poor driving can cause. The truth is that people make decisions about their driving all the time, and because most people never experience catastrophic consequences, and don’t empathise with vulnerable road users they just don’t appreciate the constant danger their decisions deliver to others.

So I’m now reporting examples of dangerous and careless driving to the Police on a regular basis, and so far they have taken action against almost all of the drivers where I’ve submitted video evidence. Even where they haven’t they check for evidence of VED, insurance and MOT, so that too has an impact.

It’s interesting to see reactions to this on social media, words like “snitch”, “grass” and “vigilante” being thrown around by people clearly unhappy with increased accountability on their driving. My hope is that this will change and that effort and energy will instead be focussed on taking more care on the roads. As many are fond of pointing out, the great Peelian principle that established the Metropolitan Police in 1829:

“The police are the public and the public are the police."

Which brings me to my big decision. My Great-great-great Grandfather, Thomas Andrew Camroux was one of the very first Police officers to be appointed under that principle, and he made a very emotional decision to help a woman he found in the street, sick with cholera in 1832. It was a decision that cost him his life, and left my Great-great Grandfather an orphan. Thomas was descended from Daniel and Simon Camroux who I’ve mentioned before, and who decided to flee the  Cevennes in the 1680s in the face of religious persecution. 

I want to tell the story of my family and that will probably take the form of a book. I don’t have high expectations that anyone else will read it, although of course I hope to make it an entertaining and informative read. I just think it will be a fun thing to do, and I’ll enjoy the process of creating the book and telling the tales.

It’s going to take a while to get everything set up to get the project moving. But I have a lot of information and knowledge already, and the internet keeps throwing more at me. Critically, the decision I’ve finally made, and it was a very close-run and balanced one to make, will make it more likely that I finally get it off the ground. Sadly, I am not at liberty to tell you the circumstances of that decision. All I can say is that after examining  and understanding my values and emotions, an objective and logical approach prevailed.