Let’s talk red lights – and why a growing number of cyclists in this country act like they don’t exist.
In cities across the UK, from London to Leeds, foot travellers are being struck by cyclists who treat traffic laws like polite suggestions. They run red lights, weave between pedestrians at crossings, and disappear into anonymity after collisions that leave people broken in their wake. No number plate. No insurance. No consequences.
And what do we do?
We make excuses for them because the individuals involved are not driving cars.
I have seen it firsthand – an ordinary morning in West London. A woman steps onto a pedestrian crossing. Coffee in one hand. Her eyes fixed ahead. Traffic stops. The little green man shines in her favour. A cyclist, head down, earbuds in, barrels through without hesitation and knocks her flat. Her coffee goes one way, her bones another.
He didn’t stop. Didn’t even check if she was breathing.
People screamed. She screamed. He swore. And vanished.
I remember the sound first. Not a screech. Not a horn. But the brutal silence of a bike flying through a red light at full speed.
Then came the thud.
The road, by all logic and law, was hers.
But logic doesn’t always slow a cyclist who may feel entitled or believe they own the road.
No license plate. No helmet camera. No accountability.
And no justice.
That image – of the woman twisted on the concrete, moaning in pain as strangers scrambled to help – hasn’t left me. Because that’s what this is about, really: the casual theft of safety. The quiet normalisation of law-breaking on two wheels. The idea that if you’re not in a car, the rules are optional – and pedestrians? We are just obstacles in your high-speed yoga commute.
We’ve built a narrative in the UK – that cyclists are heroes. Green warriors. Victims of car culture. And yes, many are. They dodge potholes, endure road rage, and fight for survival in a world where the car is king. Most cyclists obey the rules and do their best to share the road with others.
The silence around this issue isn’t accidental. It’s cultural. We’ve convinced ourselves that anything that isn’t a car must be good – and that anyone who criticises cyclists must be anti-environment, anti-progress, or just angry.
But here’s the uncomfortable truth no one wants to say out loud: while most cyclists are considerate, some are dangerous. And not just to themselves.
Not every danger roars with an engine. Some dangers wear Lycra, run red lights, and ride with the arrogance of impunity.
A cyclist at 30 mph can do serious damage. Broken ribs. Dislocated shoulders. Facial fractures. Concussions. Death. These aren’t theoretical outcomes – they are happening, more often than most people realise. The victims? Often the elderly. Often children. Often disabled walkers. Often, just someone like you, trusting a little green man to mean something.
But to a growing breed of red-light runners, momentum takes precedence over caution.
Here is where it gets uglier. When a car hits a pedestrian, we know who is responsible. Number plates. Insurance. CCTV. When a cyclist hits you? Good luck.
Unless someone gets it on video, they vanish.
Try reporting it. Try finding a name. Try suing someone who doesn’t even have to be insured. You will be met with shrugs and sympathy and absolutely nothing else. You are just another statistic in a system that doesn’t keep count.
If a cyclist injures you and keeps going, the chances of facing justice – I mean real, tangible justice – are close to zero.
No ID. No insurance. No name or real accountability.
If it had been a car, there’d be a police report, a number plate, a legal process. But with a bike? There’s nothing. Just a battered woman lying in the street while strangers wonder if she will walk again.
The UK has spent years trying to become more bike-friendly – and rightly so. We need fewer cars, cleaner air, and healthier people. Most cyclists support these aims and ride responsibly. But in our rush to paint cycle lanes and subsidise bike-hire schemes, we have created a blind spot: no one is watching the cyclists who choose to ignore the rules.
You don’t need a license to ride a bike. You don’t need insurance. You don’t even need to understand the Highway Code. If you hit someone while jumping a red, the odds of facing justice are almost non-existent – unless someone gets it on camera, and even then, enforcement is rare.
When pedestrians raise concerns, they are met with the same dismissive refrain: ‘But cars kill more people.’
Yes. And we hold drivers accountable when they do. Why is that basic expectation absent for cyclists?
According to a recent study by e-bike provider Lime, around 16% of cyclists admit to running red lights. Regularly. But any pedestrian who walks city streets periodically knows that’s a polite underestimation. In 2024, police recorded 603 accidents where a civilian was injured in bike collisions, a 19 per cent increase from 2023. Every crossing becomes a gamble – not just against cars, but against bikes that fly past at 40 mph, ignoring red lights, people, and any sense of shared space.
And don’t even get me started on walking along a canal towpath!
