<p>On September 14, a BMW slammed into a motorcycle in Delhi, killing a senior government official and critically injuring his wife. The driver was arrested, but the tragedy reignites a painfully familiar question about road safety in Indian cities. For every high-profile case that shocks the nation, countless others occur daily with little attention. These are not isolated accidents but symptoms of deeper structural and cultural failures.</p>.<p>Registered vehicle ownership has increased fivefold between 2001 and 2020. National highways have nearly tripled in length, but state road capacity grew by only 41% in the same period. The result is overloaded city roads.</p>.<p>Traffic is further slowed by India’s heterogeneous mix of vehicles. Two-wheelers and cars accelerate 33-66% faster than auto-rickshaws or buses, but all clear an intersection at the pace of the slowest vehicle. A single rickshaw can slow down a stream of even the fastest cars.</p>.GBA's rush to fill potholes sparks quality concerns across Bengaluru .<p>Roadside encroachments -- stalls, carts, and parked vehicles – push pedestrians onto busy streets, worsening congestion and raising risks.</p>.<p>While laws prescribe heavy fines, enforcement remains patchy, sometimes for fear of public backlash. Clearing encroachments, for instance, threatens livelihoods; it is neither politically desirable nor morally tenable. A 2024 nationwide survey found that of Rs 12,000 crore in traffic fines issued, nearly Rs 9,000 crore remain unpaid -- an indication that deterrence is weak.</p>.<p>Beyond infrastructure and enforcement lies drive behaviours -- the “road culture”. It is tempting to argue that aggressive driver behaviour is simply a response to a resource-constrained situation. But even on empty streets, rules are flouted -- signals are ignored, lanes blurred, and speed limits crossed. </p>.<p>This culture reflects deeper social habits. Jugaad, often celebrated as ingenuity, also normalises rule-bending. Larger vehicles routinely edge out smaller ones; pedestrians scramble for space. When accidents occur, mobs tend to always blame the larger vehicle -- a sign of India’s dormant socialist streak.</p>.<p>Contrast this with Singapore or Tokyo, where order prevails even at peak congestion. Singapore enforces strict fines, extensive surveillance, and controls vehicle ownership. Furthermore, the psychological cost of rule-following diminishes when laws apply evenly. Compliance breeds smoother commutes, which in turn validate the system and foster further compliance. Hence the question: do roads mirror a city’s culture, or do they shape it?</p>.<p>According to the sociologist Erving Goffman, the answer is a yes. He argued that public interactions define what people see as appropriate or permissible. The “broken windows” theory echoes this: visible disorder breeds deeper law-breaking. Therefore, where collective respect and the rule of law hold firm, courtesy on the roads comes more naturally. By extension, where enforcement is lax and distrust in officialdom runs high, roads degenerate into battlegrounds of competing interests.</p>.<p>The real prize, however, is in deciphering whether the causal arrow can point the other way. Could a better road culture improve broader social trust? Research from Rutgers University shows that cooperative practices in shared public spaces can foster lasting trust. If everyday acts of politeness on the road, such as yielding space or respecting right-of-way, become second nature, then that civility may spread to workplaces, schools, and beyond.</p>.<p>Improving road culture, therefore, is about more than cutting travel times or crash rates. It is a conduit for strengthening community behaviour and faith in governance. To leverage this potential, India must pursue reforms that draw on role modelling, demonstrate political intent, and dissuade bad road culture.</p>.<p>First, every large city should pilot ‘model roads’ backed by uncompromising enforcement to prove that disciplined driving reduces travel times and enhances safety. These small victories can ripple outward, just as broken-windows theory predicts.</p>.<p>Second, traffic fines must be rationalised. Sky-high fines often invite petty bribes, while enforcing the many thousands of violations caught by CCTV systems risks backlash. Through controlled trials, governments can right-size or explore progressive fines to maximise deterrence without fuelling corruption or resentment.</p>.<p>Finally, no behaviour change endures without a robust public awareness campaign. The swagger associated with jumping a signal or jaywalking must be replaced by disapproving public stares. What we need is a robust campaign that touches people across all walks of life to anchor a new civic norm.</p>.<p>Traffic management, at its core, is a social contract – a mutual commitment that signals collective care and responsibility. When rules are non-negotiable, they build respect; when courtesy and safety are prized, those values spill over into other aspects of civic life. Traffic thus operates both as a mirror and a mould, reflecting a community’s ethos while simultaneously shaping it.</p>.<p>(The writer is a global policy expert and Country Director, India, at the Tony Blair Institute)</p><p><em>Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.</em></p>
<p>On September 14, a BMW slammed into a motorcycle in Delhi, killing a senior government official and critically injuring his wife. The driver was arrested, but the tragedy reignites a painfully familiar question about road safety in Indian cities. For every high-profile case that shocks the nation, countless others occur daily with little attention. These are not isolated accidents but symptoms of deeper structural and cultural failures.</p>.<p>Registered vehicle ownership has increased fivefold between 2001 and 2020. National highways have nearly tripled in length, but state road capacity grew by only 41% in the same period. The result is overloaded city roads.</p>.<p>Traffic is further slowed by India’s heterogeneous mix of vehicles. Two-wheelers and cars accelerate 33-66% faster than auto-rickshaws or buses, but all clear an intersection at the pace of the slowest vehicle. A single rickshaw can slow down a stream of even the fastest cars.</p>.GBA's rush to fill potholes sparks quality concerns across Bengaluru .<p>Roadside encroachments -- stalls, carts, and parked vehicles – push pedestrians onto busy streets, worsening congestion and raising risks.</p>.<p>While laws prescribe heavy fines, enforcement remains patchy, sometimes for fear of public backlash. Clearing encroachments, for instance, threatens livelihoods; it is neither politically desirable nor morally tenable. A 2024 nationwide survey found that of Rs 12,000 crore in traffic fines issued, nearly Rs 9,000 crore remain unpaid -- an indication that deterrence is weak.</p>.<p>Beyond infrastructure and enforcement lies drive behaviours -- the “road culture”. It is tempting to argue that aggressive driver behaviour is simply a response to a resource-constrained situation. But even on empty streets, rules are flouted -- signals are ignored, lanes blurred, and speed limits crossed. </p>.<p>This culture reflects deeper social habits. Jugaad, often celebrated as ingenuity, also normalises rule-bending. Larger vehicles routinely edge out smaller ones; pedestrians scramble for space. When accidents occur, mobs tend to always blame the larger vehicle -- a sign of India’s dormant socialist streak.</p>.<p>Contrast this with Singapore or Tokyo, where order prevails even at peak congestion. Singapore enforces strict fines, extensive surveillance, and controls vehicle ownership. Furthermore, the psychological cost of rule-following diminishes when laws apply evenly. Compliance breeds smoother commutes, which in turn validate the system and foster further compliance. Hence the question: do roads mirror a city’s culture, or do they shape it?</p>.<p>According to the sociologist Erving Goffman, the answer is a yes. He argued that public interactions define what people see as appropriate or permissible. The “broken windows” theory echoes this: visible disorder breeds deeper law-breaking. Therefore, where collective respect and the rule of law hold firm, courtesy on the roads comes more naturally. By extension, where enforcement is lax and distrust in officialdom runs high, roads degenerate into battlegrounds of competing interests.</p>.<p>The real prize, however, is in deciphering whether the causal arrow can point the other way. Could a better road culture improve broader social trust? Research from Rutgers University shows that cooperative practices in shared public spaces can foster lasting trust. If everyday acts of politeness on the road, such as yielding space or respecting right-of-way, become second nature, then that civility may spread to workplaces, schools, and beyond.</p>.<p>Improving road culture, therefore, is about more than cutting travel times or crash rates. It is a conduit for strengthening community behaviour and faith in governance. To leverage this potential, India must pursue reforms that draw on role modelling, demonstrate political intent, and dissuade bad road culture.</p>.<p>First, every large city should pilot ‘model roads’ backed by uncompromising enforcement to prove that disciplined driving reduces travel times and enhances safety. These small victories can ripple outward, just as broken-windows theory predicts.</p>.<p>Second, traffic fines must be rationalised. Sky-high fines often invite petty bribes, while enforcing the many thousands of violations caught by CCTV systems risks backlash. Through controlled trials, governments can right-size or explore progressive fines to maximise deterrence without fuelling corruption or resentment.</p>.<p>Finally, no behaviour change endures without a robust public awareness campaign. The swagger associated with jumping a signal or jaywalking must be replaced by disapproving public stares. What we need is a robust campaign that touches people across all walks of life to anchor a new civic norm.</p>.<p>Traffic management, at its core, is a social contract – a mutual commitment that signals collective care and responsibility. When rules are non-negotiable, they build respect; when courtesy and safety are prized, those values spill over into other aspects of civic life. Traffic thus operates both as a mirror and a mould, reflecting a community’s ethos while simultaneously shaping it.</p>.<p>(The writer is a global policy expert and Country Director, India, at the Tony Blair Institute)</p><p><em>Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.</em></p>