Road Rage
Japan is a land of safe drivers—except when it’s not

Julian Ryall is the Japan correspondent for The Daily Telegraph

For the second time in the last 12 months, there are burned-out candles and bunches of wilting flowers beside the busy road crossing that I take to get to my train station every morning.

The first sad little collection of mementos included a young boy’s baseball team shirt, complete with his name across the shoulders, and a Pokemon toy. This time, a soccer shirt has been left pinned to the railing, along with a bottle of Coca-Cola and a bar of chocolate. The boy’s teammates have signed a photograph and taped it to a nearby lamp post.

I didn’t witness either of these accidents, but by taking my own life in my hands on this very same pedestrian crossing, it is a pretty safe bet that these two boys died when a motorist tried to jump one red light too many.

I have driven in some of the world’s busiest cities—including my native and deeply unforgiving London—and my impression of Japanese drivers is that they are more tolerant towards others and respectful of the rules of the road than elsewhere. There is almost always a smile and a “No, after you” indication when two cars get in each other’s way; I have seen very few disagreements over parking spaces; the use of hand gestures involving less than two fingers is unheard of. The exception to the rule is when it comes to pedestrians and running red lights.

The road I cross is a busy one, with four lanes passing to and fro from Yokohama’s docks, and a gas station on one corner. The through-traffic ranges from huge articulated trucks carrying shipping containers to light vans, box cars and motorcycles. A fairly typical cross-section of vehicles using just another one of Japan’s urban roads.

And, as I’m sure is the case at road crossings across the country, there is always someone who thinks that if they put their foot down as they’re coming up to lights that are already turning red, it will all work out fine. Evidence on the pathway proves otherwise.

As commuters, kids and mothers on bicycles chance their lives on the pedestrian crossing, Japan’s finest can be relied on to be leaning on a baton outside their koban, beside the station entrance and not more than 100 meters away.

It strikes me as ironic that a sign prominently displayed in the window gives the latest crime statistics for the neighborhood. No cases of burglary, muggings or bag-snatching around here all week. Never mind the carnage going on just round the corner.

Emi Yokoyama

(I should point out that I cannot actually name the station in this article, as those helpful boys in blue who loiter outside are diligently tracking down a wallet that I reported lost to them about three months ago. Not that I expect to ever hear anything more about progress in their investigations.)
Taxi drivers get a fairly bad rap in this country, but I’d have to say that they are not the worst offenders in this situation. The guys behind the wheel of the huge trucks are far worse, perhaps assuming—correctly—that no one on foot or a bicycle is going to tangle with an 18 wheeler. But the pedestrian blindness affects drivers across the spectrum.

I already had one foot on the black-and-white lines the other morning when an elderly lady on a pink scooter barreled up the inside lane—passing cars that had already come to a halt at the red light—and nearly took my leg off. Shouting at her rapidly diminishing figure had absolutely no effect, and it didn’t even make me feel much better, either. I know the same thing is likely to happen again tomorrow.

Which brings me to the futility of the whole thing.

Less than 100 meters down the road, there is another light that’s turning red. Another 100 meters after that, there’s another one. Bit further down... yeah, you guessed it.

This is a busy thoroughfare with lots of intersections. Anyone who jumps this light is going to have to stop anyway just a little way down the street. As my own road rage rises, I feel like standing in the middle of traffic and asking these inconsiderate drivers if it’s worth taking a life to go another 100 meters.

But I know I’d probably be run down before I got the words out.

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