In most countries around the world, people enjoy a fundamental freedom: the freedom to choose how to get around. The choice of which road to use—whether it be a motorway, an urban thoroughfare, or a small country lane—is an ordinary and commonplace freedom, one that most road users around the word take for granted.
But not in Taiwan.
But not in Taiwan.
In recent years, Taiwan has become well-known across the world as a fledgling democracy at the heart of East Asia. However, somewhat less well-known is the fact that over 14 million of its citizens are subject to systematic restrictions on where and how they can travel—within their own land.
More than half the population of Taiwan uses or owns a motorcycle of one form or another. The prevalence of motorcycles and scooters is among the highest in the world. This huge group of people, like other segments of the population, pays taxes and contributes to society. Indeed, it’s possible to argue that much of Taiwan’s economy depends on the motorcycling population. Without the army of motorcyclists getting to and from work every day, businesses across the land would quickly cease to function.
More than half the population of Taiwan uses or owns a motorcycle of one form or another. The prevalence of motorcycles and scooters is among the highest in the world. This huge group of people, like other segments of the population, pays taxes and contributes to society. Indeed, it’s possible to argue that much of Taiwan’s economy depends on the motorcycling population. Without the army of motorcyclists getting to and from work every day, businesses across the land would quickly cease to function.
However, despite their contributions to society, motorcyclists, unlike their car-driving counterparts, are restricted from riding on many of their country’s roads, and are thereby prevented from enjoying much of the public infrastructure that their taxes help to pay for.
In many countries around the world, riding a motorcycle is viewed as an enjoyable and even liberating activity. This spirit of motorcycling—one of freedom and exploration—is perhaps reflected in a quote from the Harley Davidson company:
“We don’t sell motorcycles; we sell freedom.”
But in Taiwan, riding a motorcycle, for many people who rely on them to commute, is far from the liberating experience hinted at in the quote above. Over the past few decades, the government has invested heavily in new motorway infrastructure, with many new routes, and safer, wider roads. Much of this infrastructure is of a very high standard. But at the same time, the government has enacted legislation to restrict the rights of motorcyclists, banning them from using those very same roads.
Across many stretches of the country, motorcycles outnumber cars by a huge margin. But the number of routes legally accessible to riders falls short of reaching only a third of the country’s overall road surface.
Within the chaos of the big cities, motorcyclists are often encouraged to ride on the most dangerous sections of roads. While the government has provided dedicated motorcycle lanes, they are often in many respects inferior in quality to those provided for larger vehicles.
Motorcycle lanes are often too narrow, poorly banked, or veer off at sudden angles. They’re often situated next to long lines of parked cars, where riders are at continual risk of being “doored” by inattentive drivers. In other places, motorcycle lanes start and stop abruptly, requiring riders to merge in and out of heavy traffic unnecessarily. On bridges, motorcyclists are often hemmed into narrow, winding lanes with concrete barriers on either side, leaving almost no room to manoeuvre or escape in case of an accident. But perhaps the biggest problem with this system is that motorcyclists often have no choice: they are often forced to use the dedicated lanes, or else they risk being prosecuted.
One common problem is created by car drivers that park—illegally—within motorcycle lanes. The obvious solution for a rider encountering this situation would be to overtake using one of the other lanes. However, all too often, the remaining lanes are forbidden for motorcyclists. This creates an awkward dilemma: should a motorcyclist stay in their dedicated lane and wait for the illegally-parked vehicle to move on, or should they overtake, by riding in the forbidden lane? Neither option is attractive: waiting for a parked car to move could take several hours (and one risks being rear-ended by an inattentive driver). But by overtaking, the rider risks being fined by the police. It’s a no-win situation.
Another problem is that shared-use lanes suddenly become forbidden for motorcycles without any prior warning. A motorcyclist can be riding along, when the lane in which they’re legally travelling suddenly and without warning turns into a lane that is forbidden. When encountering such a situation, motorcyclists are somehow expected to immediately cross several lanes of busy traffic to reach their dedicated narrow lane on the extreme right-hand-side of the road. How can this be considered safe?
In reality, those stretches of road marked as forbidden for motorcycles are not really much different from other stretches of road. The road surface is made from the same materials. The lanes are demarcated from one another with the same type of white paint. They often have exactly the same speed restrictions. The only difference is the words painted onto their surface: “Motorcycles Forbidden” (“禁行機車”), and the omnipresent threat of being prosecuted for using them, even when it’s the safer thing to do.
To make matters worse, the government’s different treatment of different types of road users has given rise to a kind of class-based discrimination that is perhaps unique to Taiwanese society. A great many drivers are reluctant to share their lanes with motorcyclists at all, even in places where it is completely legal for motorcycles to ride.
Indeed, even when riding a motorcycle legally in the centre of one’s lane, keeping a safe distance from the vehicle in front, drivers of larger vehicles frequently take umbrage to the fact that a motorcycle is “blocking their lane”. In some situations, drivers will use their size and weight advantage to coerce, or even physically force a rider to give way. This extremely dangerous behaviour—using one’s vehicle to threaten and endanger the lives of others—should rightly be viewed as totally inexcusable, but is sadly a common occurrence on Taiwanese roads.
Indeed, drivers of bigger vehicles are long used to having their own way on the roads of Taiwan. The concept of “the bigger vehicle wins” is one that motorcyclists are forced to deal with every day, and ignore at their peril.
What is a law-abiding motorcyclist to do in this environment?
Perhaps the saddest element of this situation is that many Taiwanese riders tolerate and accept their subjugated status. Even though this road design readily increases the danger that motorcyclists face, and even though it measurably increases the risk of traffic accidents, there are still many who defend the current system.
As Taiwanese, we are repeatedly imbued from a very young age with the idea that two-wheeled vehicles are inherently dangerous. Unlike their counterparts in other countries, many Taiwanese schools actually forbid their students from riding bicycles to and from classes. What should be a formative and healthy activity for young people—riding a bike—is discouraged and even prevented. This mentality of banning things doesn’t stop there. There are even universities that forbid their students—who are already adults, with the right to vote and join the military—from riding motorcycles, even if they have a valid licence.
Is it then a surprise, that when many young Taiwanese—with little experience of ever riding a two-wheeled vehicle—finally acquire licences and start riding on the roads, they are at an extremely high risk of causing accidents? Without giving our young people the life experiences and training they need, are we really surprised when they come unstuck later on?
Of course it’s true that operating any vehicle comes with risk. That much is undeniable. But is the correct approach to ban their use and force them to the periphery of society, or is it to improve our education and training, so that road users are given the knowledge and skill to keep themselves and others safe? Why, when other countries have achieved so much with road safety education, should Taiwan be different? Are Taiwanese lives worth less?
Unfortunately, rather than urging the government to improve training—both for car drivers and motorcyclists—and reform the design of our roads, many of our citizens reach the conclusion that all two-wheeled vehicles, no matter how they are ridden, are inescapably dangerous; that somehow there is nothing we can do to lessen the risk, and that we should just ban them from multiple sections of our roads to avoid the problem from ever recurring.
As a result of this way of thinking, safety issues with our road design are left perpetually unaddressed, members of our society are reluctant to share the roads with one another, and thousands of our citizens are injured and killed every year.
Is this the kind of society we want?
About 第四維度 Photography:
About TMRA台灣摩托車友協會(Taiwan Motorcycle Riders Association):
中文原稿：
在多數的國家裡，人民可以自行選擇回家的路；像是高速公路，高架道路，平面道路。這聽起來稀鬆平常，但卻不適用於台灣；台灣是一個以自由民主著稱的地方，但是卻有著超過1400萬的人被選擇性的打壓，那就是摩托車族；在台灣摩托車騎士的總數將近台灣過半的人口，我們一樣賦稅，一樣身為國民，但卻無法行駛在那些由我們的稅金蓋出來的那些道路。
在多數的國家裡面騎著一台摩托車是一個相當輕鬆愜意的事情，就如同哈雷摩托車的口號：
『我們不賣摩托車，我們賣的是自由』
但在台灣，當一個摩托族可不是件容易的事情；政府多年來錯誤的施政和宣導，不斷的打壓身為多數人的摩托族群；在多數繁忙的交通時段，摩托車的數量遠遠多於汽車，但我們能合法使用的道路往往不及道路的三分之一；在繁忙且混亂的都市中，摩托車能合法行駛的路線一般都是最危險且道路品質最差的。在道路使用不平等的狀況下衍伸了許多歧視問題，大部分的汽車駕駛不願意禮讓，甚至有許多惡意的行為；汽車駕駛臨停在摩托車道的情況更是時時可見；為了躲避這些風險的摩托車騎士們有些會選擇騎上所謂的「禁行機車道」，除了會有被警察開罰單處分的風險呢，還有些野蠻的汽車駕駛甚至還會用逼車，意圖衝撞的方式來驅趕摩托車使用道路；而實際上呢，禁行機車道並不是什麼新奇的道路，他就只是普通的道路；有著相同的速限與路面，只是在地上多了「禁行摩托車」這樣的油漆標示。舉例來說在一條標準兩線道的道路上，摩托車能騎的路線可能只有半台車寬度的路肩；如果有汽車違規停車，摩托車也只能等待；因為騎上其他車道可是違規的行為；即使在摩托車可以正常使用的道路上，台灣的汽車駕駛仍然不習慣摩托車騎在道路中，警察不明就理的擅自開罰也是屢見不鮮。
很神奇的是，部分台灣人民似乎很樂意接受如此誇張的道路設計，即使這樣的設計非常的扭曲也極為容易造成事故，但是總有許多人十分的擁護，因為在台灣我們從小就被灌輸兩輪的載具很危險的觀念，在許多國中小學都是禁止學生騎自行車上學的，即使到了大學，許多學校仍然禁止摩托車的使用(即便你已成年)，而這些嚴重缺乏道路經驗跟道路倫理的年輕人在擁有駕照後有著超高的肇事和意外發生率，使得大部分的人都認為摩托車是危險的，所以摩托車道路的設計和規劃也不受到重視，也不願意和摩托車共享道路。
芃編撰寫
Jonathan Knowles翻譯
前往路標森林懸掛貽笑國際的汽車專行、兩段式左轉路牌者
-第四維度 Photography-
-第四維度 Photography-
路牌懸掛構思者-TMRA台灣摩托車友協會(Taiwan Motorcycle Riders Association)-
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