Cycling infrastructure is experiencing an international renaissance. The resurgence of interest in “the local” through COVID-19, twinned with more consistent policies to decarbonise urban transport, represents a turning point in international attention towards active travel and the potential for urban cycling (Nurse and Dunning, 2020, Harris and McCue, 2022). This resurgence is able to benefit from the largesse of previous investments in car transport that provide high quality road surfaces and land use precedence for transport (Dunning and Nurse, 2020), meaning that rarely does land need to be purchased to provide cycling infrastructure. Unlike new train lines and motorways, the rights of public access have normally been previously secured and rarely will environmental concerns preclude expansion of cycling infrastructure. Planning for cycling infrastructure should therefore be somewhat simpler than planning many other forms of transport.

Infrastructure planning of this kind is normally conducted by local government within a nationally prescribed “legal, regulatory and financial framework” (OECD, 2004). However, there is clear evidence that a confluence of national government (e.g., fuel taxation) and local government (e.g. traffic calming) actions combine to create positive cycling conditions (Pucher and Buehler, 2008a, 2008b). This often means that cycling infrastructure can be highly varied within, and between, local authorities. This has implications for spatial accessibility and inequity for residents in different locations (Mora et al., 2021, Padeiro, 2022). Whilst some countries apply high standards for cycling infrastructure (e.g., the Netherlands, Denmark) with clear and prescriptive design standards (Larsen, 2017b), many countries do not. Furthermore, there can be a discrepancy between transport planners’ perceptions of cyclists’ priorities and the everyday experiences of cyclists (Marquart et al., 2020). Whilst there are some notable exceptions (e.g. Cresswell, 2006), there is little evidence that planning infrastructure incorporates the everyday meanings of cycling that influence behaviours and levels of utilisation (Rérat, 2019).

Planners tend to rely on research into attitudes towards cycling (e.g., local and national surveys), indicators of effective demand for cycling (e.g., traffic counts and mobile phone geospatial data analytics – see Spinney (2009)) for a critique of this as transport geography), and standard design templates to plan local cycling infrastructure. However, there is a gap in the evidence of everyday cyclist experiences in locations with limited infrastructure, which could fundamentally shape these interventions. Whilst policymakers and transport planners tend to look to alternative, often exemplar, contexts for inspiration (i.e., the Netherlands again), they can miss the evidence that is closest; the experiences of current regular cyclists in comparable spaces. In this study, we respond to this gap in evidence. Using Practice Theory, and by exploring existing behaviours of everyday cyclists in Liverpool, a city with limited cycling infrastructure, we provide insights into bottom-up evidence for planning cycling infrastructure.

This paper makes three substantial contributions. First, we demonstrate the utility of a novel method for capturing cyclist behaviours in an urban context, which goes some way to addressing the shortcomings of other approaches as identified by Pooley et al. (2013). Second, through this approach, we demonstrate how the meanings of infrastructures (both those designed specifically for cycling, and those repurposed or utilised) are significant for everyday cycling. Thirdly, we argue that local transport planning needs to grapple with these issues in order to plan appropriate cycling infrastructure.

The rest of this paper comprises five parts. We examine the context for cycling in the United Kingdom (UK), as the cultural context for our case study; in this we explore the historical cycling situation in Liverpool and the transition that has taken place through COVID-19, mirroring the situation in many other cities. We then explain our methodological approach to understand cyclists’ experiences, utilised within a Practice Theory framework, which we explain in section four. An analysis of cyclist self-recorded videos and reflective interviews is then discussed in detail. Here we identify five themes: mundanity, route choice, impermeable barriers, legality, and end of route transition. In the penultimate section we consider the impacts of these five themes on planning for cycling infrastructure, before a short conclusion recaps the contribution that the paper makes.

Although urban cycling is currently experiencing something of a resurgence within UK transport agendas, when considered against other European nations the UK is not known for its high cycling rates, or support. Following a massive post-war decline in cycling rates as car ownership became more prevalent and affordable (De la Bruheze, 2000, Oldenziel et al., 2016, Reid, 2017), cycling held a stubbornly low share of the UK’s modal split.

Throughout the latter part of the 20th century there was recognition that whilst the car dominated ideas of “progress”, cycling would continue to play an important part in modal shares. For example, the New Towns movement included off-road cycleways as part of their transport network. Perhaps the best example of this is Stevenage, which built 23 miles of segregated cycle network in the 1960s (Reid, 2017). Even so, and despite representing contemporary idealised infrastructure, these interventions had minimal effects on cycling rates. Arguably the resurgence of cycling in UK transport policy came as the sustainability movement gained momentum during the 2000s. “Sustainable development” increasingly underpinned the UK Government’s planning policy, at the time delivered via the Office of the Deputy Prime Minister (ODPM, 2003) (ODPM, 2003), and “cycling cities” gained £100m of funding to expand infrastructure (British Broadcasting Corporation – BBC, 2008). During this time, London began to expand cycling provision, firstly through its cycle-hire scheme, and latterly through the creation of cycling “superhighways” along strategic routes. There was some tangible success in those places. For example, Bristol’s cycling implementation underpinned its hosting of the 2015 European Green Capital award (Ersoy and Hall, 2020), whilst London is now an exemplar for cycling provision. The next acceleration came In the late 2010s, when newly elected Metro-Mayors obtained control over local transport spending, and in many cases would go on to appoint Walking and Cycling Commissioners (Sturzaker and Nurse, 2020). The Metro-Mayors and their commissioners also enjoyed widespread public support – for example 67% and 69% of the public in Greater Manchester and the Liverpool City Region respectively support giving road space to cyclists, even if it means less space for cars (Sustrans, 2020, Sustrans, 2019). This reflects research suggesting that implementation of cycling measures reflects political will (Larsen, 2017b, Cox and Koglin, 2020).

The latest major shift emerged in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, and the changes to urban life, which thrust cycling to the heart of urban transport in a way many could not have foreseen at the start of 2020. This came in two stages. The first was when many people opted to cycle during the “lockdown” conditions put in place to respond to the early pandemic, (Nurse and Dunning, 2020, Buehler and Pucher, 2021). The second came when many countries, including the UK, sought to create temporary “pop-up” cycleways to facilitate those willing/able to travel to work by bicycle, minimise the use of cars, and ease the burden elsewhere on the road network (Buehler and Pucher, 2021, Harris and McCue, 2022). However, as urban authorities began implementing planned and “pop-up” cycling infrastructure at a rapid rate, the way in which this is done becomes important and raises crucial questions. Where does it go? What quality is it? Does it meet the needs of all users? To answer those questions, we need to be aware of how users – particularly those who may be new or less-experienced cyclists – use the roads whilst cycling. Whilst there are a wealth of studies centred on international exemplar cities (e.g. Pucher and Buehler, 2008b, Oldenziel et al., 2016, Larsen, 2017b, Larsen and Funk, 2017), and some UK-based exemplars such as London (Latham and Wood, 2015, Aldred et al., 2019) and beyond (Pooley et al., 2013), there remains less research on cycling provision/activity in cities with lower cycling rates. This is perhaps unsurprising, reflecting a broader tendency to focus on “celebrity” case studies (Thrift, 1997), even despite the need to recognise that contexts differ and exemplars may not be transferrable (Sheldrick et al., 2017).

This study addresses that gap through a study of “non-exemplar” spaces who, nonetheless, are making attempts to improve cycling provision. It expands our understanding into places that are not at the forefront of cycling-rates or infrastructure delivery, and can help other places in similar positions. To this end, this paper presents a study of every-day commuting cycling in Liverpool, UK, inspired by the Practice Theory work of Latham and Wood (2015) and Brown and Spinney (2010).

In selecting Liverpool as a case study, we argue that it represents something of an “ordinary” city (e.g. Buck and Nurse, 2021). At 2%, the Department for Transport (DfT) estimate that the city’s cycling modal share is similar to the UK average (DfT, 2019). Yet, given that cycling rates tend to be higher in cities, this belies a historically weaker performance compared to other UK cities (DfT, 2017). This weaker performance, and a modal share that varies little across the city, is, perhaps, a reflection of two factors. The first, is a longstanding shortfall in infrastructure provision which has lagged behind both other UK core cities and European exemplars (Nurse and North, 2013). For much of this period, Liverpool only had two significant pieces of cycling infrastructure: a waterfront cycling path and the “Loopline”, a converted former railway line spanning several miles from the north to the south of the city. The second factor was the worst road safety record of any English Metropolitan Borough – with 201 cyclists killed or seriously injured between 2012–2016 (DfT, 2017).

Recently, Liverpool has followed many of the UK trends outlined above. The City-Region has a cycling Commissioner, an actor and campaigner, and has overseen a number of high-profile cycling infrastructure schemes, including outside Lime Street Station (the main rail terminus), the waterfront, and Princes Avenue (the latter of which is a core discussion point below). Importantly, most of this major infrastructure development has been in-or-near to the city centre reflecting a broader pattern of development prioritisation (Parkinson, 2019). There was also some “pop-up” infrastructure installed in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic. With six routes originally announced in 2020, three were eventually constructed in the North, South, and East of the city, respectively. However, the City Council’s commitment to cycling was questioned when, in 2021, the Eastern route on West Derby Road was removed in its entirety.

Liverpool, therefore, presents a useful case study to understand how cyclist perceptions should shape interventions. The city sits at the cusp of a yet-unrealised change. For many commuters using the city’s roads, dedicated infrastructure is few-and-far between and, in many cases, did not exist at the time we conducted our study. In this way, the city provides fertile ground to understand how cyclists use roads which are not designed for cycling. What shapes, informs, and determines their route choices and behaviour?

Practice Theory can provide a framework for understanding of the social and infrastructural conditions which can allow behaviours to flourish (Shove and Spurling, 2013). Acknowledging other fuller accounts of the literature which settle cycling as a practice (Watson, 2013, Spotswood et al., 2015, Oldenziel et al., 2016, Larsen, 2017a, 2017b, Rérat, 2019), we draw principally upon the work of Reckwitz (2002), and Shove et al. (2012) to frame our analysis. Specifically, this provides the framework to understand the “routinized type of behaviour” (Reckwitz, 2002 p249) that is cycling, and how it intersects with the three core elements of a practice: materials, competencies and meanings. Shove et al. (2012 p.14), goes on to define those elements thusly: Materials are “things, technologies, tangible physical entities and the stuff of which objects are made”, in this case, bicycles, roads, physical infrastructure, and so on; competencies reflect the “skills” or “know-how” which a cyclist will use (or potentially, lack) when riding their bicycle; and meanings are the emotional, social, and symbolic significance of the practice.

In deploying this thinking, we must acknowledge and negotiate its limits. In particular, this combination of the three elements means cycling practices may look and feel different in each place (Sheldrick et al., 2017). In this way, we must caution against an over-enthusiastic policy transfer which becomes shorn of context (Thrift, 1997, Bristow, 2010). However, in exploring cycling in a city without an established cycling culture compared to its peers (i.e., Liverpool), we are in effect studying the absence of established practice and what current practitioners tell us about how it might flourish (Shove and Spurling, 2013).

We must also engage with another crucial element: policymaking. We note Shove’s (2014) arguments that the value of Practice Theory is premised on its inapplicability to policy, however we also note Keller et al. (2016) argument that Practice Theory-informed studies have a particular utility in informing policy-makers. To resolve this impasse, we draw upon Buck and Nurse (2021) who identify the actions of others (i.e., policymakers) as a fourth element that informs a practice, and plays a role in resolving some of the original three elements (e.g., providing material infrastructure, supporting training programmes, or creating narratives that instil positive meaning – or indeed not). In doing so, we hold with Keller et al. (2016) that a Practice Theory-informed analysis can support good policymaking by understanding how the actions of policymakers can positively or negatively inform the practice. It is, in this way, that we subsequently deploy Practice Theory – not as a means to analyse policy itself, but rather as a means to understand the daily practices of cycling in the city, to recognise that policymakers do play a central role in how that practice is carried out, and to use those experiences to improve policy-making for cycling.

Our study of every-day commuting cycling in Liverpool is inspired by the work of Latham and Wood (2015) and Brown and Spinney (2010), and their use of video-based methodologies to explore a perceived gap in understanding how “cyclists deal with existing infrastructure configurations” (Latham and Wood (2015 p304) themselves building on the work of Spinney (2010), and Kidder (2012)). To capture this every-day commuting activity, we used a novel approach in which our participant’s bicycles were equipped with front and rear-mounted cameras and microphones, and a GPS-based cycling computer to record their journeys. Our approach recognised that previous studies often involved “ride-alongs” to accompany cyclists on their journey, and sought to positively overcome many of the shortfalls of an accompanied ride identified by (Pooley et al., 2013). This largely related to the risk of the observer effect causing an inauthentic experience by altering rider behaviour, but also not interfering with the participant’s normal routines pre/post ride. In doing so, we do recognise the trade-offs in this approach, not least the loss of in-person observation by the researcher. At the same time, however, we note how video recordings can also insure against other shortcomings of a researcher-only approach including memory, and their own perceptions of risk.

Following instruction on how to operate the cameras, participants were issued with a simple brief: to cycle their regular commute on their normal route, ideally at the time they would normally travel to/from work, and to record both journeys. Importantly, to capture “normal” behaviour, participants were given no specific instruction on how to behave, and thus to ride in the manner in which they ordinarily would.

To capture the every-day experience of cycling in Liverpool, our study used participants who were existing cyclists with some experience of riding within the city. In pursuing this approach, we recognise that the competencies framed above by Shove et al. (2012) become particularly important in understanding cycling practice. By working with commuting cyclists, it is clear that they would demonstrate a particular level of cycling competence that would take them beyond that of newcomers or outsiders (Nello-Deakin and Nikolaeva, 2021). However, we would align with Aldred’s (2013) suggestion, the same cyclist may be simultaneously viewed as competent and incompetent by different observers, including the self.

Using this method, we recorded twelve journeys, achieved through six cyclists recording their inbound and homeward commutes across 2018 and 2019 – a roughly comparable number to Latham and Wood’s (2015) original study. Reflecting the discussion of Aldred (2013) above, participants were of varying abilities – from comparatively self-described “novice” cyclists to those with many years’ experience – and rode a variety of standard bicycles including folding, touring, mountain, and racing bikes. All participants commuted to/from the city centre. Most travelled entirely within Liverpool’s municipal boundaries, whilst two travelled from Wirral, on the opposite side of the River Mersey. For those in Liverpool, some travelled from an area with a (slightly) higher modal share of cycling, whereas one cycled from an area with the lowest model share in the city (and, incidentally, the highest modal share for car-driving). All names used herein are pseudonyms. Five were male and one was female. We accept that the nature of a small cohort of cyclists does have its limitations. For example, it cannot capture the voices of newcomers in the way that others have (e.g. Nello-Deakin and Nikolaeva, 2021), or the larger group of non-cyclists (Mahne-Bieder et al., 2019) which are prevalent in the city. Similarly, though the cohort was proportionally similar to the City’s cycling profile in terms of gender split (Xie and Spinney, 2018), it is clear that it is difficult to generalise. Nonetheless, we would argue that the process of capturing the entire ride in this way can provide tentative insights into how cyclists inhabit the material world of Liverpool’s roads, navigate it with their competencies, and create their own meaning unaffected by an outside presence.

To delve into this detail, upon returning the cameras, participants were interviewed about their commutes. This interview started by asking participants about any incidents/occurrences that they deemed to be of significance, before discussing their route selection and their overall impression of the ride more generally. When participants discussed experiences around their home, this was on the understanding that only descriptive analysis would be used. Whilst several research projects have used on-bike cameras with surveys (e.g. Gadsby et al., 2021) and sensor data (Zhu and Zhu, 2019) we focused on freedom to cycle anywhere (such that route selection is an everyday experience) and detailed interview responses, in keeping with the Practice. Consequently, we follow Brown and Spinney (2010 p131) who argue that “by allowing riders to talk about their practices in relation to the contexts of their performance, we suggest that video can enable participants to provide more nuanced, situated and richer linguistic accounts of their embodied mobile practices than would otherwise be possible.”

When considered through the lens of Practice Theory, our study of commuting cyclists in Liverpool provides several useful insights about how people travel around the city. In particular, our analysis suggests that, whilst much of the activity draws upon materials and competences, it places a large significance on meanings with regards to how the former are negotiated. In turn, we can now reflect on how these findings might be useful to those planning future material interventions. In doing so we reflect on both issues of quantity (i.e., Where does it go?) and quality (i.e., does it meet the needs of all users?) raised earlier.

Across our study we found that there is a mundanity to a significant proportion of day-to-day cycling. That is, that regardless of the material spaces or competences of our participants, in large part their commutes passed without major event. However, within those largely mundane daily commutes, material provision and competences (including of others) led to short “flashpoints”, sometimes lasting only a few seconds, which had the potential to colour perceptions of the whole commute. We observed how the meanings of places determined the ways in which riders would cycle through them. Importantly, we observed how more confident cyclists would justify “immoral” behaviour (Ihlström et al., 2021) such as pavement riding, whilst like (Latham and Wood, 2015) less-confident participants would simply stop at problematic infrastructure and navigate it as a pedestrian, even if this meant potentially placing themselves in riskier positions (e.g., by dismounting on the road). Finally, like Aultman-Hall et al. (1997) and Moudon et al. (2005), we also observed how our participants, particularly those self-identifying as being more confident, often followed the desire line to their destination, even if this meant bypassing material infrastructure provided for cyclists.

This mixture of behaviours thus created divergence in how space was used and how journeys panned out. Going further, it is clear that striking the balance between the needs of more and less-confident cyclists is a major challenge for transport planners – especially those expanding a limited network on a limited budget. Even across our participants, themselves a small sub-set of Liverpool’s cyclists, we found there was a range of outcomes and preferences. In this way, short of comprehensive network coverage, interventions which favour one type of rider may not wholly speak to the concerns of others, and may potentially even undermine confidence in those delivering material infrastructure.

Resolving these contradictions is not easy in a short time frame. However, whilst the necessary work of expanding material infrastructure – often seen as the single biggest factor in encouraging cycling (Hull and O’Holleran, 2014) – goes on, the actions of policymakers remains key to the development, and potential success or failure of the practice (Buck and Nurse, 2021). Based on our findings, we argue that the meanings of cycling are central to the practice, yet consistently overlooked – both where infrastructure is provided, and where it is absent. Across our participants, it was clear that the meanings they ascribed to places determined how they rode through them, or if they rode through them at all. In this way, we offer that by understanding these meanings, and acknowledging that a single space should simultaneously accommodate the needs of a range of competences, we might better achieve infrastructural outcomes that cater to the greatest possible range of cyclists.

A video-based study of everyday cycling behaviour in a city, not well-known for its cycling culture, reveals much about how cyclists interact with the city. In some ways, our findings mirror those of others, suggesting commonalities with cities with established cycling cultures. For example, we found that more-confident cyclists would navigate whichever material infrastructure they were presented with and avoid it altogether if inconvenient (Moudon et al., 2005, Aultman-Hall et al., 1997). Similarly, in line with (Latham and Wood, 2015) less-confident cyclists would often stop at problematic barriers. We found evidence of how ambiguities in material infrastructure resulted in what can be perceived to others as “immoral” behaviour (Ihlström et al., 2021), but which was perceived to the cyclist as justified. We found that whilst there were incidents of note during journeys, most attention was given to the beginning and end of journey transitions – in other words how cyclists transitioned from public roads to their place of work/residence. Here, we found that even where material provision is deemed acceptable by cyclists for the duration of their journey, they indicated issues with how they would exit the roads and subsequently enter into what they perceived as more noticeable conflicts with other people – most notably pedestrians. These transitions are seemingly well catered for in other modes, but are left ambiguous when cycling.

Overall, we found that a video-based approach of this kind allowed us to understand how cyclists move through the city in their own way. In doing so, we were able to observe how small shortcomings in material infrastructure, and the meanings this carried to the individual, became amplified in a way that creates conflict – perceived or otherwise. In this way, one of the clear material challenges for transport planners is to design out such ambiguities and to recognise that, as a practice which has a wide range of skill levels, infrastructure should cater to those of both high and low-confidence in order to be fully utilised.