London’s black cab drivers are demonstrating against app-based rides

Sean Day is man who takes a certain pride in knowing his way through London’s meandering streets.

“London is massive. It’s like a cobweb. It’s like tangled fusewire,” he says.

He has been driving a traditional London black taxi for 14 years, and he tells me he has never needed a map or GPS in any of that time.

As with all black cab drivers, that understanding of London took time. To be licensed, black cab drivers must pass the Knowledge, an insanely comprehensive set of exams that require trainees to demonstrate knowledge of about 25,000 streets and 20,000 points of interest in the city.

In recent years however, something strange has been happening to the 150-year-old tradition. Day is one of the leaders of a group of cabbies who have begun protesting — even deliberately blocking traffic — to let people know that their way of life is under threat.  

Across Europe, smartphone-based ride services, like Uber, have been putting down roots. They are hugely popular, but also controversial. In France, for instance, a trial over Uber’s business practices is ongoing. In London, local authorities have been licensing these new cab services alongside the traditional veterans.

The drivers for the new companies have never studied the Knowledge, but they do have GPS. And it turns out that many Londoners are happy to pay less for a driver who doesn’t remember every street in the city, but does have the technology to find it. Day will have none of that.

“The GPS in my head is greater than the GPS that you have on your dashboard," he says. "If there’s a police cordon or a diversion, I know what I need to do to get out of it.”

On the afternoon I met him, Day was on his way to the latest direct action, one that he had helped to coordinate. It's a "flashdemo," organized through social media,  at Bank Junction, in the heart of the city’s financial district. The aim was to inconvenience the banks that have invested in new types of cab firms.

“This is just a token to say, look, we can affect London’s economy. We don’t want to do that. But our industry has been incredibly disrupted.” Day himself has seen his income has drop by 20 to 30 percent in recent years, typical of many drivers, he says.  

At that demonstration, the tactics seemed to work, at least in terms of raising cabbies' morale. As we arrived in front of the Bank of England, the symbolic center of Britain’s economy,  a mass of stationary black cabs was snaking into every sidestreet. No vehicle could move for hundreds of yards around. Police helicopters buzzed over head, as other drivers greeted Day. Horns blared; a driver played drum solos on a huge bass drum.

Through the din, I asked Day if protests can really guarantee the black cab’s future. He says history is on the cabbies' side. “If we can make the transition from horses to carriages to motor vehicles, well, we can continue from here. We are not going anywhere. We are a real stubborn old mule.”