End of the road for lane-hogs?

he delicate matter of the middle-lane hogger raises its awkward head again, with the announcement that Britain’s first fine and penalty licence points have been issued for the hideously annoying offence of driving in the middle lane of a motorway when the inside lane is free.

Has there ever been a more contentious issue for Britain’s drivers? Survey after survey of road users finds that the most hated act is lane-hogging. Researchers claim the habit leads to a third – a third! – of the motorway capacity being wasted. This, when we have so little capacity to begin with.

So politicians went for an easy vote-winner in 2013 and announced a £100 on-thespot fine for those caught in flagrante delicto. Needless to say, however, the first poor sod to be convicted has had an example made of him: the West Yorkshire-dwelling, Citroen-Berlingo-driving hogger has just copped five penalty points and a fine totalling £940: £500 after failing to turn up in court plus £400 in costs with a £40 victim surcharge. I particularly like the mention of a victim surcharge here, for there are, without doubt, victims in this type of action: those made late for appointments by the ensuing jams at the minor end of the scale, and those who end up in an ambulance when the frustration among drivers blocked by hoggers’ actions leads to risky actions and consequent crashes.

I’ve always planted my flag at the forefront of the queue to denounce such hijackers of free space; there is plainly nothing more frustrating than being blocked from going at a speed you think appropriate by someone else who either has no idea you are behind them (bad driver) or who thinks it’s their role to slow you down (bad person). Shooting is too good for them, in my opinion.

But, as is the way with all self-righteousness, my hatred comes tinged with a modicum of hypocrisy. For last week, reader, I’ve been driving a new Range Rover Sport. It’s not mine, it’s Land Rover’s. But for one week, I have been Queen of the Road. It is a thing of utter lusciousness, a premium lounge on wheels, with arm rests, TVs, squishy leather headrests, a quiet cabin and enough ride height to make you feel invincible; a ruler of the open highway, god of the horizon.

And so, for one week only, I have changed my driving habits to suit this beast. There is no point in hurrying a twotonne monster along, so I have pootled and pottered around the byways of Britain.

I do likewise in a Volvo. I have wafted down country lanes and sailed along the motorways at a steady 65mph, enjoying a languorous pace of life and at times, I admit, I have found it very difficult to rouse myself sufficiently to move into the left-hand lane when I could just drift straight down the centre of the road, space to my left and right in case of unforeseen eventualities that might cause an emergency swerve out of my lane.

But I can’t do it. I can’t bear it. The left-hand lane is the driving lane, for God’s sake, all other lanes are for overtaking, not for driving in. Any other action is an act of ignorance and blind egotism, not to mention passive aggression as its worst. The middle-lane driver is the driver who utters the immortal words: “I’m a very safe driver; I’ve never had an accident”, failing to see the pile-up in his rear-view mirror, caused by his wilful stupidity. He is the reason other drivers undertake (which should never be possible), he is why a tailback develops in the middle lane, why drivers suddenly swerve into the outside lane in gaps really too small, why we have tailgaters, why frustration builds, accidents happen and we end up in the aforementioned ambulance.

So, good on the judge who issued the hefty fine and the five penalty points in West Yorkshire. I hope it’s the start of more rigorous policing of this and not a token effort.