Are good manners on buses really archaic?

As archaic as 1991 diesel buses spouting fumes? As archaic as buses running on time?

As a kid growing up in the rebellious 1970s, I often came in to conflict with older people. I found the RSA generation of my grandparents to be conservative, judgmental and hypocritical. Many of them had fought in ‘‘the war’’ and thought it would do longhaired protesters like me a lot of good to experience the same thing.

When it came to human rights, these old folk were more concerned about their right to watch a rugby game than the injustices of apartheid. They were patronising towards Ma¯ ori, hated the music I liked, had a ridiculous love of the outdated British monarchy, and believed most of our social problems would be solved by compulsory military training. And women belonged in the kitchen.

They were dismissive of intellectuals, and believed anyone with a decent education didn’t understand the real world. Their hero was prime minister Rob Muldoon.

I didn’t buy all the ‘‘respect your elders’’ rubbish we were taught at school, and sincerely believed that the sooner the gerontocracy I lived in was overthrown the better.

Yet when our neighbour Mrs Stanley – an elderly Englishwoman who had worked in the mills as a youngster, and walked funny because a childhood vitamin deficiency caused rickets – would ask me to go to the dairy to buy her some groceries, I did it without question. And the generous tip she gave me provided an excellent lesson on the motivational value of financial incentives.

When strict old Mrs Carr walked up the drive, I was unfailingly polite. When friendly old Mrs Ell said hello through the garden fence, I was never anything less than charming, apart from the tantrum I had, aged 4, when I screamed to my parents ‘‘I don’t care if Mrs Effing Ell hears’’.

It wasn’t that we were hypocritical; it’s just that we didn’t know any different. If we treated old people with disrespect, even though my parents disagreed with every political view they held, there would be, as Dad was fond of saying, ‘‘hell to pay’’.

Then there was the bus. The bus had rules and we obeyed. Don’t eat or drink on the bus, don’t talk to the drunks on the late bus on Friday night, and give up your seat if there was an adult standing. I remember openly questioning the need for school uniforms, signing petitions to abolish corporal punishment, but I can’t ever remember me or my siblings or friends refusing to stand for an adult on the No 7 to Brooklyn. It was simply not done.

But now it has been decided that the rule that makes children, who get discounted fares, give up their seats to adults on a bus, is archaic. As archaic as 1991 diesel buses spouting fumes? As archaic as buses running on time? As archaic as drivers being paid a wage with which they can support a family? Apparently some concerned passengers worried that the rule was a breach of the child’s human rights.

Really? Children pay less for a ticket than adults, so shouldn’t they give up their seats to fullfare-paying passengers? That argument sounds good until you realise some elderly passengers might be using Winston’s Gold Card. It would be bad manners to make them stand up for a fit, fullfare-paying 20-year-old. Same goes for people with disabilities, who may get discounted bus travel.

Though I’ve noticed the vast majority of younger people are more than happy to give up their seats to an elderly person, a heavily pregnant woman or someone with a disability, the rule gave a bit of ballast to someone who might desperately need a seat. It allowed the driver or other passengers to tell a child or teen who might have a bad case of entitle-itis to do the right thing.

But is a rule necessary? Can’t we just hope that people will do the right thing of their own accord? Maybe, but if that is the case let’s also get rid of the drinking age, compulsory seatbelts, slash police numbers and make tax payments voluntary. Surely we can trust people?

I love seeing the care and respect that old people receive in some cultures – Ma¯ ori, Chinese and Pasifika spring to mind. Yet I also know that an older generation with too much power can be stifling. I like that we have a prime minister in her late 30s, whereas most of the Chinese politburo used to be in their 80s and 90s, though now the average age is a sprightly 61.

So while I can see problems with the old rule, I sincerely hope that consideration for people who might need a seat will see younger, fitter people continue to give up their seats without compulsion.

Although something tells me that come July – with new routes, new companies, new timetables and grumpy bus drivers earning less than they used to – whether or not children stand up for adults will be the very last thing on the minds of most bus commuters.