If cyclists are willing to fund ‘Project Idries’, the state has no law enforcement excuse

Last week, I rode into Camps Bay minutes after Idries Sheriff was killed by an alleged drunk driver. It could so easily have been me. Seven years ago, it was me. I was hit, on the same road, by a drunk driver. His blood alcohol test was botched, so he fled the country. I’m still here, so I count myself lucky. Too many aren’t, the white memorial bicycles are testament to that.

South Africa is not indifferent to road safety. We have campaigns, advocacy groups and memorial rides. In the Western Cape, there is even a regulation requiring motorists to leave space when passing cyclists.

But every time they head out, cyclists shoulder the burden of visibility, caution and the real chance of dying.

And, they are dying.

That is not because awareness is low or because the rules do not exist. It is because dangerous behaviour on our roads remains a low-risk activity. The probability of being stopped, charged, prosecuted and meaningfully punished is still too low to change behaviour. When enforcement is thin, the road belongs to the fastest and the most reckless.

So, here is an uncomfortable but practical proposal. The cycling community itself should fund a targeted enforcement pilot.

This is not a request for a handout. It is not a demand for special treatment. It is an offer to pay, in advance, for capacity that makes dangerous behaviour a high-risk activity rather than a low-risk one.

Cape Town already accepts a simple principle. Communities may fund supplementary public safety services. We do this through City Improvement Districts to reduce theft, vandalism and assault. Crucially, funding does not equal authority. Enforcement powers remain with the state.

That distinction matters.

A cyclist-funded pilot (let’s call it Project Idries) would not outsource traffic enforcement or create private police. Traffic law enforcement must remain the responsibility of authorised officers. What cyclists would fund is capacity around enforcement. This includes visible patrolling, rapid incident response, evidence capture and a clean evidence pipeline that makes it easier for the authorities to enforce the law.

Importantly, this capacity would apply to all dangerous behaviour on the road, not only to motorists. Cyclists who ride recklessly, ignore red lights, ride unpredictably in traffic or endanger pedestrians would be subject to the same scrutiny and intervention. Road safety only works when rules apply to everyone who uses the road.

This is how City Improvement Districts already work. They fund patrol vehicles, radios, cameras, control rooms and personnel who observe, deter and respond, then liaise with police or traffic officials who exercise arrest and prosecutorial powers. The model is established. The application to cycling safety is simply overdue.

To make this real and testable, the pilot should be specific. A six-month, weekend-only deployment along one of Cape Town’s most heavily used recreational cycling corridors, from the city centre along the Atlantic Seaboard and over Chapman’s Peak to Noordhoek.

Anyone who rides in Cape Town knows this route. On weekends, it carries large volumes of recreational cyclists, clubs and training groups. It is scenic, exposed and unforgiving. It is also a corridor where speed, alcohol and impatience regularly collide with vulnerable road users.

A focused pilot along this route avoids vague promises and endless debates. It allows for clear parameters, clear costs and objective results.

The cycling community would fund the pilot through events, sponsors, brands and voluntary contributions. That funding would pay for visible safety patrols operating during peak weekend hours, cameras and distance-calibration tools, and a small operations function to triage incidents and prepare evidence packs.

Those patrols would not arrest or issue fines. They would observe, record, respond to incidents involving cyclists or motorists, secure evidence and call in Traffic Services or Metro Police. Enforcement remains entirely in state hands.

The pilot would operate under a cooperation protocol with the City that sets out how evidence is handed over, how incidents are escalated and how outcomes are reported. This respects the legal reality that traffic enforcement cannot be outsourced, while directly addressing the practical problem of limited enforcement capacity.

The operational model itself is not experimental. Visible patrolling and rapid response on known high-risk routes changes behaviour, particularly when road users realise enforcement is neither random nor rare.

Targeted enforcement operations can then be informed by that visibility. A formal third-party reporting pipeline completes the loop. Helmet-camera footage stops being social media outrage and becomes sworn evidence with clear review timelines and published outcomes. Dangerous behaviour that is recorded is acted upon.

Just as importantly, the pilot would make existing rules real. The Western Cape’s passing-distance requirement already exists. So do rules governing cyclist conduct. What they lack is predictable enforcement. This model supplies exactly that.

There is something deeply wrong about a society where people have to pay to avoid being killed on public roads. But there is something far worse about continuing to die while arguing about whose responsibility it is.

By funding the pilot themselves, cyclists change the moral and political equation completely. This stops being a complaint and becomes a challenge.

If cyclists are prepared to pay for enforcement capacity on a route they ride every weekend, what justification remains for not enforcing the law? If the money is on the table and the routes are defined, inaction becomes indefensible.

This is a call to the cycling community itself. It is also a direct call to the Pedal Power Association, which has long advocated cyclist safety, and has credibility with both riders and authorities alike. This is the moment to convene sponsors and riders, and test whether this model can save lives.

If we can organise events that close cities, and buy bikes worth thousands of rands and equipment that measures our power to the watt, we can fund a six-month enforcement pilot that keeps us alive on the road.

Not forever. Not everywhere. Just long enough to prove a simple truth. When enforcement is visible and consequences are certain, behaviour changes.

If cyclists are willing to pay, the state must be willing to act. And, if both happen, fewer white memorial bicycles will appear on our roadsides. DM

Nick Clelland heads Government Guild, an international consultancy that develops high-performance government teams. He is the author of Good Hope as well as Spin: The art of managing the media.