Zeeshan Salahuddin
The cab driver on my latest trip to Dubai was a Pakistani middle-aged man called Abdul. He wore a seatbelt, drove carefully, used turn signals when needed, and maintained speed below the limit. At one point, coming down a ramp, his screen flashed a warning that he was over-speeding and would be penalized if he sustained. He immediately reduced his speed, and the journey continued.
Seven days later, I landed back in Islamabad. My cab driver Latif was roughly the same age as Abdul. He did not wear his seatbelt; in fact when I tried to wear mine in the passenger’s seat, he told me “seatbelts are pointless”. It would not make much of a difference anyway, he said casually. He drove recklessly, tailgated several vehicles, and in 30.4 kilometers, never once used his turn signal.
Coincidentally, both men hail from Sialkot, Pakistan. So why the stark difference in the way they drive cabs; one thoroughly obedient to the law, the other entirely indifferent?
Dr. Shoaib Suddle, renowned forensic and security specialist (and former IG police Sindh, former DG IB) offers a simple explanation for this type of behavior on the road (and it applies elsewhere too).
“Certainty of being caught committing a crime, and severity/certainty of punishment are the two cornerstones that determine rates of deterrence.”
If both of these factors are high, the public will stick to rule of law, and only deviate in extreme and extenuating circumstances, he says.
Applying this formula to the situation in Dubai and Islamabad reveals the chasm in the deterrence levels between the two countries.
In Dubai, the certainty of getting caught is exceptionally high. For example, if the cabbie over speeds, the on-board display immediately flashes a warning, stating that they may be fined if they continue speeding. There are also cameras covering all roads, and the police is notorious for being resolute (among other adjectives) in the implementation of the law. I am not advocating that Dubai is some utopian society which Pakistan ought to replicate, as this kind of an environment is easy to turn into a security state. But the rule of law component offers an interesting parallel.
In Pakistan, the idea of the rule of law, especially when it comes to traffic laws, is treated as more of a suggestion than a requirement. And there is a joke about traffic lights; where green is a test of how quickly you can honk for the car in front of you to move, yellow is a challenge, and red is optional.
If we apply Dr. Suddle’s formula to this, the reasoning is clear. The certainty of getting caught is minimal at best. Traffic police in major urban centers is notorious for “end-of-the-month” quota-filling traffic stops and fines. But outside of these sporadic and limited periods, people face no consequence for driving with reckless abandon. Similarly, the severity of punishment is laughable. For running a red light, the average fine is around Rs. 500, which may be a considerable sum of money for the lower class, but is not unmanageable. Combined, these result in negligible deterrence.
There are other compounding factors. Several years ago, a friend went to get her driver’s license in Lahore. She failed the test over a small infraction: unfortunate, but completely understandable. As she walked to her car with her father, a man in plainclothes approached her and told her that if she paid Rs. 3,000 in cash she would get her driver’s license despite failing the test. Once you allow that anecdote to sink in, couple it with the fact that a vast number of drivers on roads actually do not possess driving licenses.
A survey conducted by a local automotive portals reveals that roughly 2 out of every 5 motorcyclists, and roughly 1 out of every 5 car drivers do not possess a valid driver’s license. This mean that 10-20% of Pakistani people reading this article drive around without licenses.
Rotten to the core is a crass and strong description of this deplorable situation, but it is accurate. Public safety (and the fulfilment of the social contract by the state) requires strict adherence to rule of law. The baffling fact is that this feat is not impossible in Pakistan. We have a test case in the form of the M1, M2 and other motorways, where people (largely) follow the traffic rules, and drive below the speed limit.
Surprisingly, the motorways police enjoys a reputation for being fair, firm, and consistent. It defies logic why this cannot be replicated in the rest of Pakistan to dramatically improve the traffic on the road. Cutting down loss of life and property via accidents, and creating a safer environment for citizens will be possible only if the driver’s conduct could improve through a rigorous rule of law regime – from the acquisition of a driver’s license to the adherence to traffic laws on the road.
