As the ash cloud hovered over Europe, authorities closed airspace, forcing would-be flyers to seek alternative transport. What did this experience tell us about transport?
It was a bizarre week in April. While few in Europe could pronounce the name Eyjafjallajökull, they knew exactly what it was: the Icelandic volcano, whose ash cloud was considered too dangerous for airplanes. Flights were banned. The skies, particularly around airports and flight paths, were clear and quiet. People who had arranged long journeys had to try alternate means – car, bus, train, boat – or simply stay at home. Deliveries and freight were disrupted. Life seemed disturbed.
After six days, the flight ban was gradually lifted, passengers returned home, and airports were bustling again. But what were the lessons from this experience and the chaos that followed?
Firstly, and obviously, it demonstrates the extent to which we are at the mercy of rapidly changing conditions. For anyone affected, it was a sobering experience. But statistically, it is not one that might be repeated any time soon. Even if volcanologists cannot predict when the next one will occur, an Icelandic ash cloud that covers Europe is on average a once-in-a-century event. The various different authorities involved in the air ban had little or no precedent to work on, and it appeared like they overreacted with their blanket ban. But the authorities have now set in place contingency plans: if such events should re-occur, they would have a better idea how to measure the threat from the ash, and how to map out any potential no-go area. Needless to say, Mother Nature does not target air traffic above other transport modes: storms, floods, landslides, ice, snow and other natural phenomena can hamper road, rail and sea.
Secondly, it showed how much we depend on transport. The ash cloud directly shut down air traffic, but it also revealed the extent to which so much of our daily routines – and our lifestyles – depend on a wide variety of different transport modes. In overall passenger and freight terms, air traffic is relatively small — in most European countries, airfreight accounts for just 1-2% of total trade volume — and yet the impact of the flight ban was huge.
Indeed, the volcano forced Europeans to distinguish between trades according to their transport modes. For example, Kenyan growers — who are responsible for about one-third of Europe's imported flowers — lost about €2 million a day. European firms in the electronics and pharmaceutical industries, both of which rely heavily on ‘just in time’ airfreight, also had to seek out new supply routes. Over the last generation or so, individual palates and whole cuisines have been reshaped around the expectation that everything is accessible — regardless of where it was harvested, hunted or caught — as long as one is close to an airport and willing to pay for the privilege. For a week, however, they had to consider only foods from a 100km radius. Imagine, for a moment, what might the consequences have been if road or rail traffic had been banned for a week.
Thirdly, the importance of risk management. European authorities now admit they overreacted to the volcanic ash by completely shutting down airspace. But when there is a risk – and one that is hard to assess – they have to err on the side of caution. Similar caution can be seen in another area of transport risk, road safety. Governments are under pressure from road safety lobbies to cut speed limits and reduce the alcohol tolerance threshold you're allowed drive at. Yet how do you assess the safety level? Cars are inherently dangerous machines and will always impose some perils. But large numbers of people injure and even kill themselves in all manner of everyday circumstances. Might further curbs on drivers be disproportionate to the gains they would achieve? As the volcano ash cloud showed, the best way to answer that is to improve research.
Fourthly, the need for more balance between transport modes. Five days into the crisis, Romanian MEP Marian-Jean Marinescu called for a better and faster European rail network. "The modernization of our railway transportation is a priority," he said. Meanwhile, some argued there were environmental benefits: Plane Stupid, a British group dedicated to opposing air travel, calculated that the flight ban saved some 200 tons of carbon emissions. "Aviation was supposed to wreck the environment, not the environment wreck aviation," it said, gleefully, on its website. For a moment, railway companies and road transporters benefited from the crisis. Many bus and boat companies taking bookings from stranded air passengers enjoyed an unexpected boost. Major railway stations across Western Europe were crowded with passengers and Eurostar tickets were fully booked even two days ahead of departure. And as the volcano ash spread across borders, people called for more international and regional coordination and cooperation.
Fifthly, that sometimes, setbacks can be salutary. They remind us that some of life’s luxuries are taken for granted. For example, with flights canceled across the continent football teams in the Champions League and Europa League semifinals had to scramble with travel arrangements, taking long bus rides rather than their usual flights. But for most Europeans, bus and train journeys are the norm. The flight ban should have allowed Europe some pause for thought. Indeed, some even found the ash crisis inspirational. Britain's Poet Laureate Carol Ann Duffy was moved to write "Silver lining," an ode to how the flight ban allowed us to reconnect with nature.
© Photographer: Jens Görlich
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