Good cops

I’ve been stopped several times for cycling (carefully) through red lights, twice by police cyclists in the City, once by a motorcyclist in Russell Square. I listen politely to what they have to say, then ask if I can ask a couple of questions. I start with something like, “Can you tell me why I have to stop at red when no-one is using the green?” After a few minutes’ discussion, the cycle cops waved me on and basically wished me well. The motorbike cop looked at his watch and remembered he had to attend an incident. The other day I crossed red lights in the car (having checked there was no conflicting traffic, of course), then stopped when I saw blue lights in the mirror. I engaged the officer in conversation with the same result. Even the police – the last refuge of intelligent discretion – see some rules as futile.