After multiple negative experiences of rail travel I don’t make a habit of using trains; if anything I actively avoid them. When I first started using trains, booking assistance at least a day in advance was still a requirement, although booking was no guarantee I would actually receive the help needed to board or disembark a train. The introduction of the passenger assistance app allegedly made booking easier, but the inherent ableism of not allowing disabled people to travel spontaneously was still a problem. Eventually, the Turn Up And Go scheme was introduced, a supposedly progressive step forwards that was a reflection of what travel for disabled people should have been in the first place. Things were looking up for disabled people on the go.

Then they announced the plan the close the ticket offices.

The justification for the closing of ticket offices was, as is always the case, money. Apparently, only 12% of train tickets are purchased at the offices, but this figure fails to take into account several important points.

First and foremost, they failed to consider what type of tickets people were buying at the office. In many train stations, the self-service machines simply don’t process disabled rail-cards or other such travel passes, and even the machines that do are liable to be completely inaccessible. User interfaces are usually placed far to high up to be reached from a wheelchair, and the angle of the screen reflects lights making it completely unreadable from the lower angle. The buttons might have brail, but if the screen doesn’t have a verbal description, anyone with a visual impairment needs help to operate them. This means that a good proportion of the 12% of ticket sales at offices will be to disabled people.

In addition, ticket offices serve more functions that simply allowing people to buy tickets. Ticket offices are a source of information, giving people directions, chasing up the passenger assistance team who fail to show up, and helping us navigate obstacles such as having to work around broken lifts.

Worse still, the proposal to close the ticket offices also includes revoking Turn Up And Go. Disabled people will be forced back into being unable to travel spontaneously.

Closing ticket offices means that many disabled people are going to find it almost impossible to buy train tickets, with no guarantee of being able to board even if they do manage to pay and specify the need for assistance in advance. Closing ticket offices isn’t just inconvenient, it’s straight-up discriminatory.

Naturally, there was immediate backlash to the decision, and a consultation was opened up for public feedback. That consultation was completely inaccessible. The very people most hurt by the decision to close the ticket offices (other than those at risk of losing their jobs in a cost-of-living crisis) could not have their voices heard. Eventually, those responsible were forced to extend the consultation to give disabled people the chance to speak up.

You can participate in that consultation here. (Note: you are more than welcome to use this post if you don’t have the energy to write it out yourself).

The worst part of this is that none of the above matters to the rich executives making these decisions. So, instead, I’m going to put in their language; money.

Will the money saved by making thousands of people redundant make up for the loss of ticket sales when approximately 15 – 20% of the population can no longer access the railway? Has the cost of the likely disability discrimination lawsuits been accounted for in the profit calculations?

There is still time to re-evaluate. There is still time to correct this mistake.

Let’s Save Ticket Offices.