Life: Passenger Announcement

Regular commuters are likely to have experienced various things on their travels; from signal failures to drunks on trains. But one of the more peculiar aspects of being a commuter is listening to the variety of passenger announcements.

Standing at a desolate train station in the middle of nowhere recently, under a temporary shelter that was struggling to protect me from the driving rain, I had the pleasure of hearing an automated announcement. It went something like this:

“This is a passenger announcement. Please do not ride skateboards, bicycles or use rollerblades along the station platform. It is dangerous and is illegal.”

I looked around: apart from me, both sides of the platform were empty. Nobody was rollerblading and it certainly did not look like anyone was going too soon.

So why the announcement? I know that it was an automated message, but consider this: What is the likelihood that anybody would actually be skateboarding, bicycling or rollerblading when the announcement happened? Highly unlikely.

So there I stand; a bemused commuter waiting at an empty platform struggling to shelter from the driving rain, to be told that I mustn’t ride my bicycle along the platform.

Perhaps automated announcements should be more relevant to the commuter’s experience. In my case it could have been something along the lines of:

“We would like to apologise for the poor quality of the temporary shelter at this station. The old waiting room was unfortunately burnt down by vandals, but we will not be replacing it this year as it will not help us to reach our yearly profit forecast.”

However, sometimes messages that are too honest are more unpleasant to hear. Upon arrival at Cambridge station recently I heard an announcement over the station tannoy by an actual person apologising for the late arrival of another train. The announcement was surprisingly frank:

“We would like to apologise to customers arriving at platform two for the late arrival of their train. This was due to a suicidal person in the Shepreth area.”

The starkness of this announcement was increased when I thought of the automated message I had heard previously and I wondered what sort of announcement I would prefer to hear.

Do I want to be told as I stand at an empty platform not to use a skateboard? No. But at the other end of the spectrum, would I want to know that a train had been delayed because someone had committed suicide? Probably not. There’s no real link between the two, but I’d rather have to hear pointless automated messages for the rest of my life in exchange for someone taking their own life.