Creating Accessible Bus Travel: A Perspective Grounded in Experience, Not Aspiration
I didn’t choose to work in disability advocacy; it chose me in 1984, when a road traffic accident caused sudden vision loss. Overnight, I went from simply using public transport to relying on it. Now, as Director for Disability Engagement at the Sm@rt group. I speak for people who share that experience – not by theory, but by necessity. Millions of us travel across the UK every day, yet for many, the bus remains one of the most difficult spaces to navigate safely and with dignity.
To be fair, progress has been made. Low-floor access, ramps, concessionary fares and increased driver training have all helped move things forward. These steps absolutely matter and should be recognised. But what is clear – from lived experience, not critique – is that many of the remaining barriers are not due to a lack of care, but a lack of integration. The technology exists, the funding has been allocated, the will is there. What’s missing now is coordination.
Let’s talk honestly about what travel can look like for someone living with visual, mobility or cognitive challenges.
It’s crossing the road to the bus stop without safe guidance or auditory cues. It’s arriving only to find there’s no shelter, no bench, no tactile path, no lighting and no clear indication of where the door will align. It’s stop may be partially hidden by overgrown hedges – meaning that neither passenger nor driver can confirm the passengers’ presence until too late.
It’s trying to request boarding without needing physical force or perfect timing – which is even more daunting when balance or muscle strength is compromised. Once onboard, it’s waiting for an audible next-stop announcement that either fails, is too quiet, or doesn’t play at all. It’s questioning whether the ramp will be deployed if you need it – or whether someone with a pram may have already taken the designated space.
And once inside? It’s a frantic scan for indistinct seating, unlit priority signs, uncertainty locating the bell, or anxiety over finding the correct exit point. Missing a stop might seem minor – unless every extra step exacerbates pain, fuels disorientation, or heightens vulnerability. Then it becomes a moment of crisis.
These aren’t isolated incidents – they’re the everyday reality for many. It isn’t a lack of capability that prevents independence; it is risk management. Each journey demands emotional resilience, careful judgment, and often a willingness to appear composed while internally wrestling with uncertainty.
It’s worth remembering that accessibility isn’t just about disability. It’s about age, illness, injury, mental fatigue, travelling with young children or simply coping during a difficult day. Sooner or later, accessibility will matter to every one of us – either personally or through someone we care about.
The encouraging part? The solutions don’t need reinventing from scratch. They already exist. This is not about speculative innovation, but inclusive deployment of current advancements.
We have AI-triggered journey announcements. Zero-contact door controls. Wearable and smartphone communication devices. Real-time journey applications. Wireless connectivity between bus systems and personal assistive technology. Modern sensors that can detect passenger intention. GPS-linked alerts that pre-empt stops with clear, audible updates. External speaker systems to indicate bus arrival before visual contact. And design-led boarding points created with direct end-user consultation can remove guesswork entirely.
With funding available, with evidence available, with technology available... what excuse remains not to act?
The next stage is not engineering – it’s collaboration. We don’t need more trials that never scale or advisory committees without lived experience. We need co-design with those who know the challenges first-hand. People like me, and the countless others who travel not despite the challenges, but through them.
I’m not asking operators to start from scratch. Quite the opposite. I’m suggesting that the work done so far provides a strong foundation for what comes next. If this momentum is matched with authentic engagement and practical integration, the UK could lead globally in inclusive transport.
So I pose the question not as criticism, but as invitation:
What could be achieved if we took what already works, refined it with insight from those who rely on it, and committed to inclusivity as a core component – not a retrofit?
In other words, how could we design a system where safety isn’t negotiated, dignity isn’t compromised, and independence doesn’t come at the cost of resilience?
If we can come together to explore the answers, I am certain the solutions will follow.
Peter Speight
Director of Disability Engagement at Sm@rt Technology Ltd