East Bristol's LTN: The £6 Million Lesson in Talking to 'The Plebs.'

Bristol City Council's "Liveable Neighbourhoods" trial leaves locals, and logic, behind.

(Image: Google)

Bristol City Council's latest transport scheme has not only failed in its execution but has also exposed a deeper, more systemic problem of council incompetence, mismanaged finances, and a profound disconnection from the city's most vulnerable communities.

Yes, this council’s shade of naive-Green has once again proven it has a unique flair for chaos, spectacular failure in public consultation and communication as the latest review of the East Bristol Liveable Neighbourhood (or, as they prefer, the East Bristol Modal Filter Scheme) reveals. This is a top news story for locals who have been following the controversial transport changes. It turns out that when you tell residents you’re installing a “modal filter” instead of, you know, a bloody bollard, people get confused. Who’d have thought it?

The public health specialist hired to review the scheme—let's call them the "Official Spoiler of Fun"—pulled no punches. Their report, a major talking point in Bristol news media, said the council's feedback was “vague” and that no one could figure out how their comments actually influenced the plans. The council’s idea of consultation was apparently to shove some leaflets through doors a week before the diggers arrived, which is about as effective as trying to fix a leaky pipe with a plaster. This is a key issue in the wider debate about local democracy in the city.

While the council dutifully patted itself on the back for its 'consultation,' which amounted to subjecting a handful of masochists to endless travel workshops and glorified PowerPoint presentations, the real, earth-shattering revelation of this review was the profound discovery that perhaps — just perhaps — you should talk to people with disabilities and emergency services before turning a city into a labyrinth of barricaded streets. A toddler with a Lego set could demonstrate more foresight. This isn't just amateur hour; it's a chronic, brain-dead approach to urban planning that has become the hallmark of Bristol politics, proving once again that our Green council’s capacity for utter incompetence is at least one renewable resource.

Now, of course, the comments section of Bristol Live—a veritable colosseum of public opinion—has erupted. Asmodeus nails it, saying the whole thing was a last-minute scramble, a consultation "afterthought for decisions already made." TalbotHill wonders if councillors are wearing rose-tinted glasses—presumably from the gift shop at City Hall—and suggests they look at the chaos they’ve caused in Brislington and Kingswood.

But wait! HanhamHeights leaps into the fray, a regular voice in the Bristol Post comments, claiming the traffic apocalypse never happened and that the only gridlock was caused by temporary roadworks. Redfieldbs then offers a surprisingly detailed solution for a specific traffic light junction, which, while helpful, feels a bit like discussing the finer points of wallpaper while the house is on fire.

The most profound argument comes from NathF, who points out the obvious: unless you live on the one street that benefits, the whole thing is a net negative. Which, you know, kind of defeats the point of a city-wide scheme.

HanhamHeights returns with a righteous fury, a long-tail search term in itself, scolding everyone for wanting to save 30 seconds on their journey by "polluting someone else's residential street." They declare it a worthy trade-off: a small inconvenience for drivers for a huge, permanent improvement for residents. It’s a compelling point—until Dcswf shows up and promptly calls the Greens "handcuffing" society and condescendingly tells us what the “plebs” think.

And speaking of what the plebs think, this post then takes a hard left turn into the truly eye-watering world of Bristol City Council salaries. It seems that while they were busy confusing us with “modal filters” and “public outreach,” they were also shelling out small fortunes to temporary staff. Paul Martin, the interim chief exec, cost taxpayers a cool £231,314 for just seven months' work. That's a staggering £396,538 pro-rata. Another interim, Tony Kirkham, pulled in £250,413 over nine months.

Bristol Council’s financial black hole is a masterclass in irony. They've spent an estimated £6 million on a temporary traffic scheme that's caused more problems than it's solved, all while paying temporary executives a fortune. But this is where their real genius for distraction comes in. By dazzling us with their "super-green" ideology—the gorgeously painted bike lanes, the placement of bollards, and the giant plant pots—they divert our attention from their biggest policy failure: the city's dire social inequality. For all the council's talk of a "Liveable Neighbourhood," they've conveniently ignored the most pressing needs of Bristol's most deprived areas, such as Hartcliffe & Withywood, Lawrence Hill, and Filwood. These are the communities where poverty, poor housing, and lack of opportunities are rampant. The millions spent on a temporary, and ultimately flawed, LTN could have been an imperative investment in vital services, education, and housing in these neglected areas. Instead, we have a city of shiny, green-washed facades while the foundations crumble.

And here’s the real kicker: this lavish spending on temporary executives is the ultimate admission of failure. The council is paying an eye-watering premium to recruitment agencies, effectively saying, "We've made a city so chaotic and our agenda so politically divisive that no one in their right mind wants to come and work for us full-time." It would've been more fiscally responsible to hire permanent employees, saving agency fees and actually building a stable leadership team. But maybe, just maybe, the Green administration has so spectacularly cocked up the entire city that it would take someone with the miracle attributes of the second coming to fix everything.

So, as we prepare for the next round of this municipal madness with the South Bristol LTN, a project affecting Windmill Hill, Bedminster, Southville and Ashton Vale, let's take a moment to reflect. The council has learned precisely three things from the East Bristol trial.

First, stop calling a bollard a “modal filter.” The public health specialist was right—it’s just confusing jargon that makes everyone think you're trying to hide something, like the fact that it's a glorified traffic-blocking lump of concrete. Just call it what it is, and maybe people won’t immediately assume you’re a nefarious puppet master of urban planning.

Second, you might want to consult with the people who will be, you know, affected by your plans. This includes not just residents but also disability groups and the emergency services. Apparently, in a moment of Homer Simpson thinking, it hadn’t occurred to the council that blocking roads might be a slight inconvenience for a fire engine or an ambulance. I mean, even my half-Irish brain could have worked that one out with relative ease!

And third, don’t expect people to trust you when you’re paying temporary staff enough to buy a house in Redfield while they complain about how hard it is to balance the books. The East Bristol LTN scheme itself has cost an estimated £6 million to implement, a figure that seems particularly galling when you consider the council's eye-watering spending on interim directors. The entire trial feels like a lesson in how to spend a fortune on a temporary fix, all while alienating the very people it was supposed to help.

Good luck, South Bristol. You're going to need it.