An apathetic population is no longer making trips that were once routine. What does this mean for public transport operators?
Another week of travelling around the UK has made me realise just how market forces are conspiring against whole swathes of our landscape at the moment. I don’t know why I am surprised anymore, but I still am by the zombie nation landscape of many places that I visit. Blackburn, Blackpool and Leighton Buzzard are three that spring to mind from my tours, making me feel, once more, that the key priority for the transport sector is not fiddling around with structure, but is instead about coming to terms with and responding to trading and market conditions that are almost unrecognisable to those experienced as recently as a decade ago.
Let’s start with Blackpool, a town that has so much going for it – excellent public transport with an integrated rail, bus and tram network, scenic coastal views and copious forms of entertainment. Yet, it is one of the most deprived locations in the UK, and this is visible everywhere you look. Boarded-up shops abound, restaurants are completely empty, homeless beggars aplenty, the smell of cannabis everywhere, and so many bed and breakfasts with ‘vacancies’ signs outside, even in the height of the peak summer season. I went into one pub there last week and the landlord read out the name of every boozer in the vicinity and the number of people he was informed were present the previous night – only one managed to break into double digits of punters.
I made my way from Blackpool to Blackburn and spent several nights in the town centre. Once again, it’s a town with copious plusses – some great architecture, a lovely cathedral, pleasant and in some parts stunning countryside just a short bus journey away, as well as decent sporting amenities, including Ewood Park, home of Blackburn Rovers FC, and a thriving ice-rink a few yards from the railway station. Every night I was there, the town centre was deserted, except for groups of unruly, vaping, teenagers giving jip to bystanders. On the one hand, it was a throw-back to yesteryear when youths hung around street corners, but unlike previous generations, the rest of the town was utterly desolate.
It’s not just the less affluent locations that resembled a scene from ‘Apocalypse Now’. I visited Macclesfield in Cheshire in the middle of the day and witnessed a handful of people shuffling around, going through the motions in the town centre. I went into the library to make a Teams call and spotted one bloke on his own and a lady working on a jigsaw at a table by herself, and that was it. Then, onto Leighton Buzzard, Thursday afternoon – a beautiful town, with fabulous landmarks and lovely independent shops. It was just a shame that barely anyone was devouring the delights of this place. While walking from one side of the town centre to the other, I spotted a lady with a pram, a few stragglers, and shopkeepers standing at counters, gazing through the windows, looking defeated.
Current socioeconomic factors have never been so onerous for public transport operators in my lifetime. Hard though it would be to calculate, I’d be fascinated by a study to determine the addressable market still out there for public transport. I shudder to think what the findings would be, because it’s clearly had a seismic shrink. It’s not enough that home working, entertainment, and online retail are making a trip out unappealing, but measures taken by the current government seem intent on compounding the challenge. As if the threat of AI wasn’t a worry in itself on employment, so too this cretinous hike in employers’ National Insurance as well as over-the-top, ‘workers’ rights’ legislation. No wonder small businesses, in particular, are less inclined to take on new staff, particularly those already hit by high business rates. Fiscal decisions made by the current government have contributed to people being poorer than they were a year ago, and the imminent budget will, no doubt, exacerbate the issue. It’s a vicious circle, all of which has an impact on the propensity for people to go out.
Current socioeconomic factors have never in my lifetime been so onerous for public transport
The situation is further compounded by the current downbeat and somewhat rancorous mood of the population. This isn’t just some rose-tinted, middle-aged bloke harking back to the glory years of the 1980s and 1990s. I believe the nation was happier and more sociable back then, and more adventurous about going out and enjoying experiences, particularly those shared with others. Even when talking to my kids, it’s clear that their generation has a smaller circle of friends. They are quite happy for their relationships to be maintained principally through online content, rather than the kind of group trip into town on the bus, a few beers, followed by a nightclub – the stable diet of my youth. Indeed, the nocturnal economy has been particularly hard hit. According to the Night Time Industries Association, there could be no nightclubs by 2030. Meanwhile, eight pubs a week ceased trading across the UK during the first six months of 2025 and a staggering 2,283 since 2020, according to commercial real estate specialists Ryan. For retail, the picture is particularly bleak with sales falling in August for the twelth successive month.
It appears that, for a variety of reasons, including Covid, mental health issues are more prevalent now, but this has led to many people being less inclined to venture out. Society is more reclusive. Once again, I genuinely don’t believe that it’s a ‘getting older’ thing, but from a personal perspective, I’ve sought to retreat in recent years – less enthusiastic to chat on the phone or visit people, apart from with a very small group friends and colleagues I trust deeply. Like many I know, I’ve become more cynical and feel let down by the lack of standards, etiquette and integrity of others, particularly in business. For many working weeks, I crave nothing better than travelling round the country on public transport in solitude, spending nights alone in hotels, just scrolling on my phone.
I also believe that this cynicism and desire to retreat, which is prevalent among many, is down to this relentless phone scrolling, of which I’m guilty. Social media is a putrid hotbed of self-opinionated, over-promoted folk spouting their own views as though it is gospel and taking themselves seriously. When you witness mediocre industry professionals in some failing transport companies acting as though they are gameshow hosts talking to us little people as though we are the general public/extras in their adventure, or backslapping in their cliques with like-minded, over-promoted clowns, you end up feeling an outsider, looking in on the world in which the narrative is being dictated by showboating morons. Don’t get me started on podcasts, which, with a few exceptions, have become havens for has-beens trying to remain relevant.
In my desire to blot out the nonsense noise, apart from the UK Bus Awards, I’ve boycotted industry celebratory lunches and dinners for nearly three years now and only attend a tiny number of very low-key industry events, those that provide more considered, objective and insightful discussion, as opposed to rah-rah buffoonery. Listening to egos give presentations, blowing smoke up their own and others’ posteriors, holds about as much appeal as a trip to the dentist for root canal treatment. It’s that bad. Where’s all this going? Well, it’s back to my point around ‘retreating’, which I think people are doing so more and more, to the extent that it is inexorably leading to a decline in demand for public transport. I also believe that the current doom-laden state of the nation has sapped the sense of life and spirit of adventure among the population. And, as I mentioned last time round, even if you can muster up the appetite to venture out, the proposition on public transport isn’t too compelling.
In traipsing round the north last week and looking with desperation, it seemed more incredulous the government’s decision to delay the Northern Powerhouse rail plans, which would have helped take some of the places I visited off life support. When I travel, I am also reminded of the stupor and missed opportunities of the four years since the Williams Shapps Review, a precursor to the creation of Great British Railways, was published. Four years of some folk inadvertently using a ‘future re-structure’ of the industry as an excuse not to create a legacy, of promising jam tomorrow as the reason not to deliver for today. Meanwhile, across rail, some of those responsible for marketing and commercial functions in a few (thankfully not all) train companies couldn’t be less focused on market conditions or the need to engage collectively with local communities to drive patronage, than if they tried. They feign interest, for self-gain, but really don’t give two hoots. Roll your sleeves up and spend some time with colleagues in the bus sector – they’ll show you how it’s done.
According to the Night Time Industries Association, there could be no nightclubs by 2030
My conclusion is that the demand for public transport in my lifetime may never be the same again, and it will be increasingly a huge battle to get people on board buses and trains. Transport marketers often oversimplify their task, thinking it’s a case of making the public aware their company exists, presenting the product as moderately compelling (even if the reality is that it isn’t) and then the people will come. In the olden days, this would not have been an unreasonable assumption, but now it’s far more complex. Industry bigwigs are so pre-occupied with the morale of their own workforce, they neglect the morale of current and potential customers. If they are feeling despondent about the fortunes of the world around them and, in particular, how it is being run by those in power, then they will have less get-up-and-go and desire to make a trip out. They will prefer to retreat into a shell, to vegetate or just seek simple pleasures at home, or if they do venture out it might be more likely to be in solitude, or if they can afford the fare or have enough money to spend at their destination, the experience is probably not what it used to be. When I walk round Blackpool, Blackburn and Leighton Buzzard, the empty restaurants and shops do the opposite of enticing me inside and are an active deterrent sadly – whilst being on an empty bus soon, after a while, feels as hollow an experience as the banal declarations on social media of rail industry directors that the service in the north of England has significantly improved.
The empty tables, bars and dancefloors or barren pavements, where beggars, let down by the state, constitute the sole footfall, or the town centres where hoodlums have taken over in the evenings, soon spook you out. The thriving civilisation and life that we once knew now no longer exists in any recognisable form. Then, it’s made worse because all you hear is noise from those in power or in the media or in our industry trumpeting their orders or telling us how great things are or how wonderfully excited, we should be by their latest announcement or achievement. After a while, you just zone out and become so detached because you can’t relate to the narrative you’re being force-fed or you just can’t be bothered anymore. I genuinely believe that not just in the industry but beyond, people have literally given up and apathy is now deep-seated. This is the real world, not the delusional, in denial, fantasy land resided by those in power and some self-serving transport industry professionals. With each passing week, there’s more people looking in from outside at how it all pans out.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Alex Warner has over 30 years’ experience in the transport sector, having held senior roles on a multi-modal basis across the sector. He is co-founder of transport technology business Lost Group and transport consultancy AJW Experience Group (which includes Great Scenic Journeys). He is also chair of West Midlands Grand Rail Collaboration.
This story appears inside the latest issue of Passenger Transport.
Insular Britain is staying at home
by Passenger Transport on Oct 3, 2025 • 10:31 am No CommentsAn apathetic population is no longer making trips that were once routine. What does this mean for public transport operators?
Another week of travelling around the UK has made me realise just how market forces are conspiring against whole swathes of our landscape at the moment. I don’t know why I am surprised anymore, but I still am by the zombie nation landscape of many places that I visit. Blackburn, Blackpool and Leighton Buzzard are three that spring to mind from my tours, making me feel, once more, that the key priority for the transport sector is not fiddling around with structure, but is instead about coming to terms with and responding to trading and market conditions that are almost unrecognisable to those experienced as recently as a decade ago.
Let’s start with Blackpool, a town that has so much going for it – excellent public transport with an integrated rail, bus and tram network, scenic coastal views and copious forms of entertainment. Yet, it is one of the most deprived locations in the UK, and this is visible everywhere you look. Boarded-up shops abound, restaurants are completely empty, homeless beggars aplenty, the smell of cannabis everywhere, and so many bed and breakfasts with ‘vacancies’ signs outside, even in the height of the peak summer season. I went into one pub there last week and the landlord read out the name of every boozer in the vicinity and the number of people he was informed were present the previous night – only one managed to break into double digits of punters.
I made my way from Blackpool to Blackburn and spent several nights in the town centre. Once again, it’s a town with copious plusses – some great architecture, a lovely cathedral, pleasant and in some parts stunning countryside just a short bus journey away, as well as decent sporting amenities, including Ewood Park, home of Blackburn Rovers FC, and a thriving ice-rink a few yards from the railway station. Every night I was there, the town centre was deserted, except for groups of unruly, vaping, teenagers giving jip to bystanders. On the one hand, it was a throw-back to yesteryear when youths hung around street corners, but unlike previous generations, the rest of the town was utterly desolate.
It’s not just the less affluent locations that resembled a scene from ‘Apocalypse Now’. I visited Macclesfield in Cheshire in the middle of the day and witnessed a handful of people shuffling around, going through the motions in the town centre. I went into the library to make a Teams call and spotted one bloke on his own and a lady working on a jigsaw at a table by herself, and that was it. Then, onto Leighton Buzzard, Thursday afternoon – a beautiful town, with fabulous landmarks and lovely independent shops. It was just a shame that barely anyone was devouring the delights of this place. While walking from one side of the town centre to the other, I spotted a lady with a pram, a few stragglers, and shopkeepers standing at counters, gazing through the windows, looking defeated.
Current socioeconomic factors have never been so onerous for public transport operators in my lifetime. Hard though it would be to calculate, I’d be fascinated by a study to determine the addressable market still out there for public transport. I shudder to think what the findings would be, because it’s clearly had a seismic shrink. It’s not enough that home working, entertainment, and online retail are making a trip out unappealing, but measures taken by the current government seem intent on compounding the challenge. As if the threat of AI wasn’t a worry in itself on employment, so too this cretinous hike in employers’ National Insurance as well as over-the-top, ‘workers’ rights’ legislation. No wonder small businesses, in particular, are less inclined to take on new staff, particularly those already hit by high business rates. Fiscal decisions made by the current government have contributed to people being poorer than they were a year ago, and the imminent budget will, no doubt, exacerbate the issue. It’s a vicious circle, all of which has an impact on the propensity for people to go out.
The situation is further compounded by the current downbeat and somewhat rancorous mood of the population. This isn’t just some rose-tinted, middle-aged bloke harking back to the glory years of the 1980s and 1990s. I believe the nation was happier and more sociable back then, and more adventurous about going out and enjoying experiences, particularly those shared with others. Even when talking to my kids, it’s clear that their generation has a smaller circle of friends. They are quite happy for their relationships to be maintained principally through online content, rather than the kind of group trip into town on the bus, a few beers, followed by a nightclub – the stable diet of my youth. Indeed, the nocturnal economy has been particularly hard hit. According to the Night Time Industries Association, there could be no nightclubs by 2030. Meanwhile, eight pubs a week ceased trading across the UK during the first six months of 2025 and a staggering 2,283 since 2020, according to commercial real estate specialists Ryan. For retail, the picture is particularly bleak with sales falling in August for the twelth successive month.
It appears that, for a variety of reasons, including Covid, mental health issues are more prevalent now, but this has led to many people being less inclined to venture out. Society is more reclusive. Once again, I genuinely don’t believe that it’s a ‘getting older’ thing, but from a personal perspective, I’ve sought to retreat in recent years – less enthusiastic to chat on the phone or visit people, apart from with a very small group friends and colleagues I trust deeply. Like many I know, I’ve become more cynical and feel let down by the lack of standards, etiquette and integrity of others, particularly in business. For many working weeks, I crave nothing better than travelling round the country on public transport in solitude, spending nights alone in hotels, just scrolling on my phone.
I also believe that this cynicism and desire to retreat, which is prevalent among many, is down to this relentless phone scrolling, of which I’m guilty. Social media is a putrid hotbed of self-opinionated, over-promoted folk spouting their own views as though it is gospel and taking themselves seriously. When you witness mediocre industry professionals in some failing transport companies acting as though they are gameshow hosts talking to us little people as though we are the general public/extras in their adventure, or backslapping in their cliques with like-minded, over-promoted clowns, you end up feeling an outsider, looking in on the world in which the narrative is being dictated by showboating morons. Don’t get me started on podcasts, which, with a few exceptions, have become havens for has-beens trying to remain relevant.
In my desire to blot out the nonsense noise, apart from the UK Bus Awards, I’ve boycotted industry celebratory lunches and dinners for nearly three years now and only attend a tiny number of very low-key industry events, those that provide more considered, objective and insightful discussion, as opposed to rah-rah buffoonery. Listening to egos give presentations, blowing smoke up their own and others’ posteriors, holds about as much appeal as a trip to the dentist for root canal treatment. It’s that bad. Where’s all this going? Well, it’s back to my point around ‘retreating’, which I think people are doing so more and more, to the extent that it is inexorably leading to a decline in demand for public transport. I also believe that the current doom-laden state of the nation has sapped the sense of life and spirit of adventure among the population. And, as I mentioned last time round, even if you can muster up the appetite to venture out, the proposition on public transport isn’t too compelling.
In traipsing round the north last week and looking with desperation, it seemed more incredulous the government’s decision to delay the Northern Powerhouse rail plans, which would have helped take some of the places I visited off life support. When I travel, I am also reminded of the stupor and missed opportunities of the four years since the Williams Shapps Review, a precursor to the creation of Great British Railways, was published. Four years of some folk inadvertently using a ‘future re-structure’ of the industry as an excuse not to create a legacy, of promising jam tomorrow as the reason not to deliver for today. Meanwhile, across rail, some of those responsible for marketing and commercial functions in a few (thankfully not all) train companies couldn’t be less focused on market conditions or the need to engage collectively with local communities to drive patronage, than if they tried. They feign interest, for self-gain, but really don’t give two hoots. Roll your sleeves up and spend some time with colleagues in the bus sector – they’ll show you how it’s done.
My conclusion is that the demand for public transport in my lifetime may never be the same again, and it will be increasingly a huge battle to get people on board buses and trains. Transport marketers often oversimplify their task, thinking it’s a case of making the public aware their company exists, presenting the product as moderately compelling (even if the reality is that it isn’t) and then the people will come. In the olden days, this would not have been an unreasonable assumption, but now it’s far more complex. Industry bigwigs are so pre-occupied with the morale of their own workforce, they neglect the morale of current and potential customers. If they are feeling despondent about the fortunes of the world around them and, in particular, how it is being run by those in power, then they will have less get-up-and-go and desire to make a trip out. They will prefer to retreat into a shell, to vegetate or just seek simple pleasures at home, or if they do venture out it might be more likely to be in solitude, or if they can afford the fare or have enough money to spend at their destination, the experience is probably not what it used to be. When I walk round Blackpool, Blackburn and Leighton Buzzard, the empty restaurants and shops do the opposite of enticing me inside and are an active deterrent sadly – whilst being on an empty bus soon, after a while, feels as hollow an experience as the banal declarations on social media of rail industry directors that the service in the north of England has significantly improved.
The empty tables, bars and dancefloors or barren pavements, where beggars, let down by the state, constitute the sole footfall, or the town centres where hoodlums have taken over in the evenings, soon spook you out. The thriving civilisation and life that we once knew now no longer exists in any recognisable form. Then, it’s made worse because all you hear is noise from those in power or in the media or in our industry trumpeting their orders or telling us how great things are or how wonderfully excited, we should be by their latest announcement or achievement. After a while, you just zone out and become so detached because you can’t relate to the narrative you’re being force-fed or you just can’t be bothered anymore. I genuinely believe that not just in the industry but beyond, people have literally given up and apathy is now deep-seated. This is the real world, not the delusional, in denial, fantasy land resided by those in power and some self-serving transport industry professionals. With each passing week, there’s more people looking in from outside at how it all pans out.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Alex Warner has over 30 years’ experience in the transport sector, having held senior roles on a multi-modal basis across the sector. He is co-founder of transport technology business Lost Group and transport consultancy AJW Experience Group (which includes Great Scenic Journeys). He is also chair of West Midlands Grand Rail Collaboration.
This story appears inside the latest issue of Passenger Transport.
DON’T MISS OUT – GET YOUR COPY! – click here to subscribe!