How can we achieve a just transition to urban electric mobility?

Oxford University has published an article about some of our key findings from the ITEM project, and how co-evaluating policy mixes with policymakers and other stakeholders can help shift our approach and encourage a more just transition.

The article is in part a public farewell to a project where I had the privilege of collaborating with and learning from a wide array of policymakers, stakeholders, and fellow researchers. In it, I share some insights learned from those who are working hard to deliver a more inclusive transition to electric mobility in Bristol.

However, that’s not quite the end. The insights gathered from comparing policymaking for electric mobility across Bristol, Oslo, Poznan and Utrecht are still winding their way through to become a number of academic publications. One I led considers the different approaches local policymakers take to make electric mobility more inclusive whilst reconciling tensions between national aims for EV adoption and urban targets to reduce car use. But perhaps more on that when it is accepted for publication!

Misrecognition in the transition

Urban residents’ reactions to distributional e-mobility policies offer insights into what misrecognition means.

Recognition Justice: Whose issues, needs, values, experiences and understandings are respected in policy and governance?

When we started talking about the different dimensions of social justice to policymakers and stakeholders as part of this research project back in late 2021, we quickly realised that recognition justice was the least recognised.

Matters of distributional justice are often well-integrated – even if not always executed – into planning, design, and appraisal processes. It’s an exercise in identifying costs, benefits, and upon whom they fall.

Now, as we come to the end of the project, we see that whilst matters of recognition justice remain elusive, expressions of distributional injustice in interviews with urban residents offer insights into their experiences of misrecognition… and how it might be addressed by policymakers.

Transport is a spatially organised sector. Spatial and physical accessibility is almost always a key metric for transport infrastructure and service provision. E-mobility is no exception, and policymakers regularly consider the distribution of public charging and shared micro-mobility, for example. Concerns around the affordability of EVs (usually cars and vans, but sometimes e-bikes too) are also widely documented, and policies often aim to make adoption cheaper.

Yet these and other policies to promote electric mobility can misrecognise what would make e-mobility more affordable or accessible to different groups. Our interviews with a wide spectrum of ~100 e-mobility users and non-users in four medium-sized European cities, from Oslo to Poznan, highlight some of the issues and experiences that such policies may need to recognise.

For example, a policy focus on the accessibility of electric mobility and EV adoption is seen by some to distract from the shortcomings of public transport and transport exclusion, misrecognising what certain sections of the population might actually need in terms of transport infrastructure.

Likewise, some social groups would never consider buying or leasing a new car – this can have to do with class and upbringing as much as income. So if grants and loans designed to make EV adoption cheaper don’t apply to second-hand vehicles, then the values of such groups are misrecognised.

Urban residents highlight how policies to improve accessibility for users of services such as shared e-scooters or public charging must be careful not to misrecognise the impacts on non-users. Do these services make other users of the same public spaces less safe? Do the needs of family members, such as children, make the services inaccessible in a way they would not be if the individual were travelling alone?

Restrictive policies like Clean Air Zones can misrecognise who ends up with the most financial burden, as well as how financial incentives could best reduce those burdens. Calls for greater flexibility in the use of loans and incentives highlighted one way to address this inequity, but care is needed.

Different groups understand and react to financial and regulatory policies, never mind their short and long-term impacts, in different ways, threatening further misrecognition, potentially born of poor communication and a perceived gap in procedural justice.

Recognition justice is not the same as distributional or procedural justice, but they all overlap. Through the window of distributional injustice as described by diverse users and non-users of electric mobility, the shape of recognition injustices become clearer. And through more purposive participation, in-depth engagement, and knowledge production, perhaps we can all learn to recognise it.

Let’s bring City Centres back to the people

Clean Air Zones, Low and Zero Emission Zones are the subject of headlines and political debate in the UK, but our work with colleagues in Poland show that Clean Transportation Zones, as they are called there, are no less controversial. Our research suggests that part of that controversy is due not to the potential impacts and benefits of these policy interventions, but how they are defined, measured and implemented. In particular, we advocate for a more experimental and participatory approach that doesn’t expect immediate and exacting results and allows for more gradual and transformative change. 

The Polish article, which highlights the particular challenges faced by cities with a much older vehicle fleets and the action being taken in Krakow, can be found here: Przywróćmy centra miast mieszkańcom – rp.pl.

A more general version in English is available here: Expert Comment: Let’s bring the city centres back to the people | University of Oxford

Quality in Qualitative Methods

As we describe in the ‘About ITEM’ section of our project website, ‘Work Package Two’ reviews policy documents and holds workshops and interviews with policy-makers and stakeholders in each of our case study cities in order to review how the different dimensions of justice are accounted for in the policies and decisions that govern the transition to electric mobility, why this is, and whether policy processes can be improved.

We use qualitative methods because this research question is all about answering how and why the transition to electric mobility is happening in certain ways, not just who is(n’t) using electric mobility and where electric mobility infrastructure and services can(‘t) be found. Which is not to say we are not asking questions about people and places, but these questions too are formulated as how and why.

For example: How are different people expected to use or respond to the transition to electric mobility? Why are some groups, but not others, involved or recognised in the policies and decisions that govern that transition? How are different places imagined when planning electric mobility interventions? Why are some places identified as needing more, less or different interventions?

Qualitative methods are well-placed to answer how and why questions rigorously, and help us find ways to make use of those answers.

For Bristol alone, we have iteratively read and coded 16 policy documents, from the city, combined authority and national levels. These have included transport and climate changes strategies at urban and national scales, bids and business cases prepared for central government review, and central government guidance prepared to assist local authorities. Hundreds of pages resulted in thousands of references. Our coding worked both top down and bottom up.

We created 11 ‘parent’ codes from our analytical framework, covering five dimensions of justice (capabilities and epistemic justice formed separate parent codes) and six central aspects of policy and governance:

  • sources of knowledge;
  • policy interventions;
  • their strategic programming;
  • the problems (and opportunities) policies address;
  • the people / subjects identified or implied; and
  • the places / territories addressed or characterised.

Within these, a close reading of the texts led to child, grandchild and even great-grandchild codes that help us understand:

  • how dimensions of justice manifest in policy, in concepts such as accessibility or affordability;
  • why certain sources of knowledge or evidence are foregrounded, e.g. when it is politically expedient to show generalised public support or expert advice;
  • why different policy interventions or strategic packages are targeted at certain places and people, e.g. because they are seen as needing more intervention; and
  • how local residents or businesses are expected to respond, including as rational actors who will choose the most attractive and efficient mobility options provided.

Thus, qualitative analytical methods help us recognise patterns of meaning within the narratives these documents present about the transition to electric mobility, its role in wider policy debates around sustainable transport, climate change, and public funding. They also help us consider what is not said, especially in our hunt for indications of inclusivity in policy decisions and delivery.

These methods can also be used to analyse, quite literally, what is said, as we interview policy-makers and related stakeholders. We can ask them directly which and whether aspects of social justice are accounted for in their work. We can then use the same coding methods to see whether the answers to those how and why questions are the same, how the narratives compare, and why knowledge, approach, perspectives vary.

In summary, the research in this work package aims not only to understand how and why in the past and present, but also how and why policy and governance may accelerate a more inclusive transition to electric mobility in the future. And we will continue to use qualitative methods to not only search for answers, but also apply them.

The Paradox of Procedural Justice

The old adage goes, you can bring a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink. Likewise, you can register someone to vote, but you can’t make them to turn out on election day. Or send a survey, but can’t make them fill it out. Or even hold a protest, but can’t make every affected individual or group attend. Efforts towards inclusion in civil society and policy-making can only go so far. At some point the responsibility for achieving justice is transferred to citizens who choose to vote, respond, march – or not.

No matter the attempts at genuine participation or the influence afforded those participating, there will be always be some who stay at home. And they might be people who never participate, who belong to marginalised groups, who have values, experiences, rights and needs that are often ignored. This can result in policies being perpetuated that are not only procedurally unjust, but also result in the misrepresentation of these groups, maldistribution of interventions intended to help them, and ongoing exclusion.

But what can one do? Elected representatives, local government officers, or neighbourhood activists can all try to make policy and govern justly, but cannot justly force people to get involved. Therein lies the paradox of procedural justice. It is limited by not only the level of participation offered, but also who decides to participate.

Nonetheless, it is too easy to blame apathy and hide behind the excuse that an opportunity was offered but ignored. Decision-makers can take responsibility for offering multiple ways to participate at multiple levels of involvement. Variety will increase inclusion by virtue of the likelihood that different techniques will attract different people who will feel more or less comfortable getting involved at that intensity.

‘Consultation’ is one of the most traditional techniques for involving individuals and groups, which we have found referred to again and again in our analysis of policy documents in Bristol and the UK for the ITEM project. Yet even this technique can be applied in various ways. Publishing and advertising policy in a ‘consultation draft’ on a website with pre-set questions or headline objectives and asking the extent to which respondents agree offers neither a high level of participation nor is likely to attract a high number of participants.

Instead, consultation on the 2020 Joint Local Transport Plan strategy for the West of England combined authority (WECA) used multiple different media – social media, websites, paper, in person – to solicit feedback on the policy in a variety of ways: a survey; an interactive tool to prioritise policy; and during discussions at stakeholder workshops. There were also opportunities for open answers, to raise concerns or suggestions that may have been excluded.

This multiplicity of techniques can enhance procedural justice, but that potential is diminished by focusing on the response to the policy-makers’ pre-set questions over more open responses; generalising the reported response so individual participants have little influence; and not paying attention to who did not respond or was otherwise missing.

Despite the paradox previously described, state-centric decision-makers and even society-centric grass-roots organisers should take responsibility for finding out who doesn’t participate and, ideally, why, without making assumptions. This is challenging at scale, so proposals in the city’s Bristol Transport Strategy or WECA’s Future Mobility Zone application focus on the smallest geographic scale when proposing more procedurally just techniques – co-design and co-production.

From neighbourhood plans to proposals for mobility hubs as local community assets, at this scale, reaching out to a greater number of individuals from more diverse groups through more channels is more possible, having more of them respond is more likely, and enabling their response to influence the decisions made is more manageable. Our next step is to find out if this has actually happened.

Either way, not everyone will get involved nor will the policies implemented meet every need, desire or expectation. The paradox still persists and procedural justice may not be fully achieved, but at least such an approach, if carried through, improves the chances of social justice.

Policy, what policy?

I have recently started a new research project which involves analysis of the social justice aspects of policies and policy-making for electric mobility.

I was also recently accused, in relation to a different project, of unhelpfully conflating guidance and policy.

Personally, I would refute that I was mixing the concepts up, but I do understand why it was seen as unhelpful.

The inconsistency in our respective perspectives appears to have derived from their narrower focus on policy as formally adopted strategic principles. Yet I believe policies are also inclusive of the more detailed descriptions of potential ways to implement those principles, even if agreed at a different level. For example, the road user hierarchy with pedestrians at the top and private cars at the bottom is an example of a strategic policy. But I would say that design guidance for the layouts of roads that put pedestrians first, or the sections of the highway code that indicate who has priority at a junction are also policies.

And yet, strategic policies often gain widespread, multi-level approval more easily, whereas ‘the devil is in the detail’. Pointing out such details could be seen as unhelpful if there is limited power to apply or implement the policy concerned.

Still, just in case, I thought I’d look up the dictionary definition of ‘policy’.

The source of inconsistency was immediately clear. Policies are defined as ‘principles of action’, ‘ideas or a plan of what to do’. Policies should systematically both ‘guide decisions and achieve rational outcomes’. So are they principles and ideas to guide decision-making or are they actions and plans that achieve something called outcomes? Policies are also defined as being adopted by or agreed to in some official manner by a particular group or organisation. Yet there are as many ways to officially agree to something as there are groups or groups of groups who might do the agreeing.

These questions also partially explain the why the academic literature on policy processes and design is contested, as it struggles to make sense of the discontinuity, ambiguity and uncertainty inherent in a process now generally accepted to be non-linear. Allocating agency and unpicking power relations is also tricky, as policies are not the same as politics, and individuals can be actors in their own right as a ‘policy entrepreneur’, for example, or buried in an ‘advocacy coalition’ or a ‘target population’. The terminology reflects the challenge of defining the policy process in a rational and consistent manner.

All this may be why many transport studies include a section on ‘policy implications’, usually of the effectiveness of certain ideas or principles, without engaging with policy makers or the process of how policy is made. Yet if transport planning wants to achieve goals of social justice, economic prosperity, and environmental sustainability, policy implications must consider not just statements of principle or indicators to measure outcomes, but also all the steps in between. And that means engaging with multiple elements of the policy process, even if the idea of distinct, linear policy stages has been criticised as overly simplistic.

This is particularly important for a project that aims to assess social justice, which also has multiple aspects. Transport research and planning tends to focus on distributional justice, measuring policy outcomes like accessibility. Yet there is also procedural justice, which is all about who is involved in policy design and decision-making, and the recognition aspect of justice, relating to who decides what is a problem that needs addressing and so sets the policy agenda.

In conclusion, policy is complex and contested. That is part of what makes policy what it is – and makes it only more likely that some will argue about what it isn’t.