JUST PUBLISHED: Dear Heidi Alexander MP – This is What “Accessible Transport” Really Looks Like in Modern Britain

You see, most people can step onto a bus without checking whether it will kneel at the kerb, walk through ticket barriers at the tube or train station without wondering if the lift to the platform works, and hail a cab at the side of the road at a moment’s notice whatever time of day.

But for disabled people like me, journeys that others take for granted require advance coordination, repeated checks, and faith in a system that too often fails to deliver what it promises.

I have spent fifteen years fighting to live independently, facing health systems, social-care bureaucracy, and the heavy weight of low expectations. Nothing takes away your freedom faster than discovering that a journey you planned can’t be completed because the system isn’t built for you, let me tell you.

A few months ago, I booked assistance several days in advance for a train to an appointment I couldn’t afford to miss. The train arrived, the doors opened, and then… nothing. No staff arrived and, without a ramp, I couldn’t cross the sizeable gap between the platform and the train in my electric wheelchair.

After several minutes, the doors closed and the train rolled away.

On another recent occasion, I had booked an assistance taxi several days ahead for a journey to hospital, but on the morning of the appointment no vehicle appeared. When I called, the operator blamed “staffing issues”. The appointment was lost, and it took weeks to secure another — a delay that had real consequences for my health. I’ve also had taxi drivers pull away as I waved, staff at tube stations sigh when I’ve asked for help, and rail operators tell me there was “no space for another wheelchair”.

Hearing that there is no space for you in your own country’s transport system is a hard thing to forget, let me tell you.

For many disabled people, experiences like these are routine. Buses with broken ramps drive past, perhaps to save the driver embarrassment; lifts are routinely out of order, leaving us stranded at the top or bottom of stairs. Trams can’t take larger wheelchairs, so spontaneity in some cities is impossible. Hailing a cab or booking an Uber is rarely an option unless an accessible vehicle happens to be nearby. And flying is almost impossible — anyone who has sat on a budget airline will understand how little space there is, and it’s hard to imagine where a large electric wheelchair could go.

Governments, including Labour, often speak about “freedom of movement”, yet for many disabled people that freedom simply does not exist. Transport determines access to work, education, healthcare, and social life and when lifts are broken or ramps are missing, people with disabilities are cut off from those opportunities.

I’ve been campaigning for better, more inclusive public transport for years. I’m told accessibility is expensive, that it takes time to integrate into the system, and that the technology isn’t always available. Perhaps you’ve been told the same.

The irony is that public money is wasted on fixing accessibility problems that better planning would have prevented in the first place. Technology is freely available and, if those in power would listen, so too is expert advice.

The simple fact is that disabled people are rarely involved in transport planning, rarely sit on corporation boards, and are rarely represented in government. Progress has occurred in some areas, I’ll give you that. More vehicles have ramps and more stations have step-free access. But progress is inconsistent from place-to-place. The result is a transport network that works in some areas, fails in others, and is entirely absent everywhere else.

The solution is as clear as the Equality Act 2010 that should protect it: standards must apply across all forms of public transport. A National Accessible Transport Standard would end local variation. One clear framework for all forms of transport would set enforceable expectations. And disabled people should participate directly in creating that standard.

Staff training must also improve. Attitude creates barriers as often as equipment failure. Drivers who refuse to operate ramps or treat requests with impatience cause direct harm to passengers.

Funding for accessibility also requires statutory protection. When budgets are reduced, accessibility is often removed from plans. That approach increases social and economic cost and restricts independence.

Technology, meanwhile, could improve access through live assistance tracking, real-time lift updates, and user-designed apps. These tools only work when consistently implemented and supported by trained staff, which is why disabled people must take part in planning and policy. Those who use the system understand what fails and what works. Their involvement leads to practical solutions.