I went to a conference in Derby last week. It was a hassle to get there from where I live in Berkshire. Which just goes to show that being a transport planner rarely gives you any advantage in your personal travel. I still had to endure 3.5 hours on the hot, stuffy, crowded train and I had no influence to add another carriage or make sure it ran on time.

The conference was entitled: The Route to Smarter Cities. It was supposed to be about how transport can help cities operate more efficiently and effectively for the benefit of their citizens and the local economy and the environment too. Not that you’d necessarily know that from the title. It was attended by some transport planning professionals, but also plenty of suppliers of IT, computing and other hi-tech systems that are, or could be, applied to transport networks. There were people who develop apps for mobile phones and people who control traffic signals. Not that you’d guess that from the title either.

Apparently, using ‘smart’ as an adjective for a city is a current buzzword among certain professionals. I’m not sure I’m one of them, as I only heard it for the first time fairly recently and wasn’t entirely sure what it meant. In my professional circle, people are still using that older buzzword: ‘sustainable’. Does that mean the same thing as ‘smart’? I gave a presentation at the conference and described hi-tech and low-tech transport solutions that I felt improved the efficiency of transport networks and services. I wasn’t completely sure if I was staying on topic, though the presentation seemed to be well-received.

Most disciplines and professions have their own jargon, especially social sciences and technical fields. But if not everyone in the same discipline in the same country is using the same jargon with the same defined meanings, what chance do other people, including the customers of many of us in applied social science professions, have of understanding?

Interestingly enough, one of the conference presentations included the results of a study where 1500 people had been asked what they thought might be meant by a ‘smart city’. Unexpectedly, the top answer was ‘clean’! Perhaps this shouldn’t be too surprising, however, as a common understanding of the word ‘smart’ is tidy and well-presented. And yet, one of the other top answers was a ‘pleasant’ place to live and work. What does ‘nice’ have to do with ‘smart’?

It reminded me of one of my daughter’s favourite books: The Smartest Giant in Town (Julia Donaldson). It’s all about a giant who wears old, scruffy clothes until he buys ‘smart’, new clothes. But then he gradually gives these clothes away to help animals in distress. As a result, the animals crown him the ‘kindest giant in town.’ Yet, back in his old clothes, he is no longer the smartest. Or is he?

I came away from the conference thinking that there were numerous insights into actions that could be taken to improve how transport operates. But the insight that stuck with me most is how carefully I should consider the language I use when describing the value of projects. Perhaps the next time I need to approach a hi-tech company to convince them of the importance of a transport project or even get them involved directly, I will use some of this ‘smart’ vocabulary. On the other hand, the language of sustainability might still be the one best appreciated by government employees. And if I’m speaking to a wider audience? Well, then it’s probably best to remind them that I too am just another member of the travelling public, as inconvenienced by a delayed train or a lack of clean, working toilets whilst travelling as anyone else.

An elderly woman walks slowly along the High Street, pulling her cloth shopping trolley behind her. She has a certain dignity in her fitted tweed coat and slow, careful step that refuses to become a shuffle. She carefully moves off the kerb to cross a side street. She checks for traffic, yet her old eyes do not see the crack in the tarmac that warns of the little dip with the sharp edges just beyond. By chance, her stride just takes her over it, her heel landing a mere fraction of an inch on the other side. The wheels on her trolley, however, clatter directly into the pothole, forcing the old woman to stop and tug to get it out the other side. A moment after she continues on her way, a car turns the corner, slowing to check it can fit between the lady with her trolley and the kerb. Judging it can, it does not stop and is some distance down the road before the old woman reaches the far kerb. She does not pause in her purpose, but sighs inwardly, thinking, ‘that was a close call.’

He’s nearing 40, but can proudly say that his muscles are more toned than most 20-year-olds. Not that he has to say it when anyone who looks at his tight, lycra-clad bottom and thighs through their windscreen can see it. Although, even he would admit, they might be more concerned with overtaking him at the first opportunity than admiring his physique. He is also proud to consider himself a serious cyclist. He will take his light-weight bicycle with its ultra-thin racing tyres out of the garage even if he is only going to the corner shop. It is worth four figures, so he triple locks it when he gets there. He’s going for there for the Sunday paper now, and it’s such a familiar journey that he barely pays attention as he flies down the road. He doesn’t see the pothole that catches his front wheel, turning it sideways and skewing him to the ground. The back wheel spins into the road and he only just manages to pull it and himself out of the way of a large van that trundles by, unheeding. ‘Damn potholes,’ he says as he gingerly stands up, feeling middle-aged for the first time.

How common are the above scenarios? It’s hard to say. Near misses are perhaps slightly more likely than actual injury-inducing accidents attributable to potholes. But they are perhaps slightly less likely than inconveniences such as being splashed with dirty rain-water as a car’s wheel trundles through a puddle in a pothole not far from where you are walking. Either way, every year winter weather, be it rain or snow, gives rise to a plenitude of potholes and the local highway authority usually struggles to resource the necessary repairs. Though necessary, it is a thankless job. Complaints about potholes and the highway authority’s slow response abound, but when the hole no longer exists, neither does any recognition that good work has been done. A resurfaced road may get some attention, but never the little patches that may prevent accidents. It’s definitely not one of the more glamorous jobs which those working in highways and transport might get involved in.

Yet maybe, as the seasons shift from a time of pothole creation to a time of pothole repair, we can all give this important and necessary task a humble word of thanks.

The evidence is compelling. If it was in the form of a tablet, it would be hailed as the new miracle pill. The number of diseases and chronic conditions it can prevent and treat, the percentage reduced risk of morbidity and mortality, the impact on quality of life: all are impressive. So what is this all-pervasive medicine? Simple. Physical activity. Moving around.

Sounds simple, but with our current sedentary lifestyles, it isn’t that easy to fit physical activity into our daily lives. We sit in our cars, at our desks, on our sofas. We might play a sport on a Saturday or visit a gym twice a week, but for the treatment to be effective it needs to be more or less daily. Even with the best intentions, can we really expect a New Year’s resolution to be enough to get us what we need in terms of physical activity?

I remember when I first discovered this miracle drug. I was 21 and had just finished my junior year abroad during my undergraduate degree and was whiling away my reduced summer holidays (English University terms end later and American University semesters start earlier than their counterparts) in my home town doing temp work: 5am shifts to touch up the paint on computer chasses in a warehouse or sorting the patient files at a Catholic medical practice with far too many families with the same Irish and French Canadian surnames. So I was bored and ripe to my mother’s suggestion that I try something new.

It wasn’t that I thought I needed the exercise. I considered myself reasonably active already. I’d played soccer in a town league during high school and again over in the UK where they called it football, usually twice a week. In between, I had taken up archery – not very aerobic in itself, but the coach had us going to the gym to use the machines once a week. Besides, I didn’t have a car, so I walked everywhere in my first two years and cycled everywhere in my third year. Not that walking and cycling ‘everywhere’ was an extensive workout – even without rushing, I could usually get most of the places I wanted to go within 10 minutes, particularly in the compact New York City campus. But I figured I was fit enough, even if I had to admit that I was still carrying a bit more ‘baby fat’ than I’d have liked.

Then I started going to Jazzercise with my mother. It was aerobics, but choreographed so it was more like dancing. I was soon addicted and went at least 4 times a week for about 6 weeks. We paid by the month, so it cost less per session to go more often. And I found I was actually losing weight. That soon stabilised, and indeed, the medical impact of physical activity has more to do with fitness and combatting the effects of aging than with weight loss or gain, but ever since I have felt compelled to get some sort of physical activity into my schedule on as close to a daily basis as possible.

Yet, to go back to my earlier point, it’s not that easy to fit in an aerobics class or a sport session as it was that summer. Time, cost, other priorities are stacked against doing so. Still, it turns out that I had the right idea even before I discovered the joys of being regularly active. Walking and cycling as all or part of getting where you need to go each day is enough for the basic maintenance of personal physical fitness, especially for older people. But you need to push yourself to a decent speed (between 3 and 4 mph on foot) and the activity should last 10 minutes or more. On the other hand, every time you do it counts.

And that’s why this miracle medical treatment is such an important tool for a transport planner. We have many ways to help people travel actively but the story of how it can improve their health and their lives is what may actually convince them to do so. Combined, the transport and health factors may motivate just a little more and for a little longer than a January date and soon-forgotten mid-winter overindulgence.

“Happy Holidays.”

“What would you like to drink?”

“Have some more nibbles.”

“Have you met my wife, Claire?”

We all know where this scenario is going. It’s the holiday season with dinner parties and works dos. You are introduced to the partner of your partner’s colleague. You are expected to make small talk. Once the weather and Christmas plans have been exhausted, either you are rescued by a wise policy of party intermingling or you are mired in a discussion reminiscent of awkward teenage icebreaker activities and the vein attempts to find something in common.

Yet now there is an added threat to the generic questions of where do you come from and what do you do. For you are a transport planner and you know where this could lead…

“I work for local government in Anytown.”

“Oh? Doing what?”

“Transport.”

“You mean like roads and buses?”

“Sure.”

“Have you noticed the state of the roads round here? We live on The Street and it is absolutely full of potholes. When it rains, there’s a swimming pool at the end of our driveway.”

Lovely. Aren’t you a great conversationalist. But it could get worse…

“So can you do something about the traffic lights where The Road meets The Avenue? I grew up in this area, you know, and it used to be a mini-roundabout, which worked just fine. I don’t know why they changed it.” Or, if they’re particularly annoying, “I don’t know why you changed it.”

“I didn’t,” you say, because it probably happened before you joined the Council or you work somewhere else entirely. But you can guess the answer. There’s likely been a new housing development, a superstore and a new school all emptying out into that junction over the last 10 years. Has the person noticed the town has doubled in size since they were ‘growing up’? You really know you’re trapped when they start drawing you a diagram on a cocktail napkin. Your only escape is pleading a weak bladder. And then forgetting how to get back to that particular room. There will be other people in other rooms to socialise with. Or if not, that dark, lonely corner definitely has its charms.

So how do you avoid the stigma of being a transport planner at a party? What do you say when people ask you what you do, where you work? Sometimes, I’ve gone for: “This is supposed to be a social occasion. I don’t want to talk about work.” That really makes them feel guilty. Or I try to avoid the follow-up question after admitting I work for local government. Then it’s just a matter of avoiding a complaint about local waste collection.

Of course, the other option is to lie. Parties with strangers are great places to invent a fantasy life for yourself. What shall you pretend you do for a living? Something glamorous? An actor? What if they ask what you’ve starred in and whether they would have seen it? In international business? Will they believe you if you’re wearing nothing posher than an M&S sweater?

Perhaps it’s better to have an average occupation. An accountant? Then what if they ask you for advice on your taxes? An administrator? But who do you work for? A sales clerk? Can you get me a discount? A nurse? Do you have advice on what to take for my ailment? What do you know about that? A bus driver? Uh-oh, back to transport.

No, there’s just no route to a pleasant conversation. On reflection, it seems that other jobs are almost as bad to admit to. The only solution is to go back to the beginning of the conversation and stop it before it starts. Following the weather and Christmas plans, quickly find another safe topic. Time to brush up on your football stats.

One of the key points of the 2013 Autumn Statement is that those in their 40s will now wait until they are 68 to receive their state pension and those in their 30s will wait until 69. At least, it’s a key point assuming that there is no further erosion of pension benefits over the next 25 years or so whilst those affected get on with aging over the course of their slightly longer working lives. Yet there’s another, related point that neither made the list nor was mentioned in the Autumn Statement itself. Therefore, few people in their 30s and 40s are likely to be aware that the same age definition applies to the English National Concessionary Travel Scheme (ENCTS), otherwise known as the free bus pass.

Everyone of pensionable age is eligible for such a bus pass, which allows them to, at a minimum, travel for free on any local bus in the country between 9:30 and 23:00 on weekdays and any time on weekends. Many local areas offer even longer hours or more types of eligible public transport or other perks. None of this is means tested and the political implications of leaving the grey vote alone did not go unnoticed when, as part of austerity measures, child benefit became means tested and other ‘universal benefits’ like libraries and leisure centres were subject to cuts.

So is the ENCTS fair? Is it fair if someone who is wealthy, working and of pensionable age can travel for free, whilst other people cannot afford the fares, but are too young to receive assistance? If this benefit is about the cost of bus travel, then maybe it’s just another example of the good fortune the baby boomers enjoy whilst their children wait longer to get less. Yet, I believe this might be an oversimplified response.

Perhaps the ENCTS is not about affordability, but sustainability. The public transport network can’t afford for everyone to travel for free, but we want more people to use public transport, so let’s allow some people to travel for free. Such logic is not necessarily bad policy. However, why choose the elderly? Surely it would make more sense in terms of sustainable transport promotion if young people were given the free ride. Catch them before they get a car or even a license to drive; they might develop the habit to become fare-paying passengers later. Yet although there are concessionary fares schemes for young people in various places, this is not part of the national scheme.

However, there is one more possibility. Another group besides pensioners are eligible for free bus passes nationally: those with physical impairments or disabilities that usually prevent them from driving. So maybe the ENCTS is about neither affordability nor sustainability, but about health and accessibility. For those who cannot drive, bicycle and in some cases cannot walk any significant distance, a taxi, a friendly lift or public transport are the means available to reach shops, services and even employment. For those who cannot afford taxis or have no one to provide lifts, public (or charity) transport is the only option.

Many pensioners have as few if not fewer options than those with disabilities to move about our towns and cities. For most of us, with aging comes infirmity. Driving is not as safe, steps are not as steady. Partners and friends pass away, children move away. The isolation of the elderly is a recognised and growing problem. A free bus pass can offer an incentive and a lifeline to independence. And with the ability to move around can come improved health or at least slower degeneration.

Therefore, the ENCTS does fulfil a logical policy goal as well as politically pandering to a high-voting demographic. But if the ENCTS is about accessibility and health after all, it is a sensible move to increase the age of eligibility as people stay healthier for longer. Maybe those of us in our 30s and 40s should not be concerned about this hidden benefit change in the Autumn Statement after all.

@GuardianLocal were kind enough to take an interest in my last blog and set me off thinking about how innovative local transport can be. High speed trains, airports and motorway toll roads may make the headlines, but the real news in transport is usually found at a local level where actions can be more varied and nuanced than intercity or international connections. I wanted to explore a few of these innovations in a bit more depth, but wanted to keep my descriptions easily digestible. My approach: divide them into categories and explore a few examples of each. I admit that the majority of my examples are from the UK and the US, not because other cities around the world aren’t doing great things, but because they’re the places I know best. (See About H- D- B-!)

Anyway, here’s category number one. Please note that the numbering and perhaps the designation of the categories themselves have no particular significance.

New Spaces

If I were Michael Bloomberg, I’d be pretty proud that the Highline Park in Manhattan was developed during my watch, even if the idea did come from some local activists. Since it opened in 2011, the Highline Park has become world famous. An urban walkway built on top of a disused, elevated railway line, it is just one example of how local governments are creating new spaces, particularly aimed at pedestrians.

A large proportion of public space can technically be considered transport infrastructure and most of it is managed by local governments. The streets, footpaths, pedestrian areas and plazas in our towns and cities are the essential circulatory system of urban areas. They all serve many non-transport functions too, from meeting places to shopping outlets. Yet it is hard to value these functions in the same way as adjacent private land, developed with commercial or residential buildings.

So in some towns and cities, local governments have found ways to create public spaces without losing private space. This is not necessarily new. From Hong Kong to Rio de Janeiro and the Netherlands to New Orleans, land reclamation from seas and swamps has long been a means to increase the size of valuable urban areas for private and public use. Yet more recently, municipalities have created new public spaces in more innovative ways, like the Highline.

Another example is the Eastbank Esplanade along the Willamette River in Portland, Oregon. This floating walkway opened in 2001 and connects a number of bridges and neighbourhoods by creating a new public space that neither uses riverside land nor affects the habitat and flow of the river. Think pontoons and you’ll get the idea.

Other cities make better use of old space. Like the tunnelling in Boston, Massachusetts that put the highway underground and created the next generation of urban boulevard above it. Whatever the backlash of the Big Dig during its construction, the results are stunning. Likewise, the regeneration of canal-side, ex-industrial space in Birmingham, England has also effected a transformation from old space into new.

All these examples are a great continuation of the trend towards more pedestrian space that, in the form of pedestrianized shopping streets, spread through Europe and beyond in the latter half of the twentieth century. It’s a celebration of the ten-toe express.