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I am a Plymouth bus driver. And I am peeling my eyes momentarily away from my warning-light ridden dashboard to let you, the bus user, know: that I know the buses are crap.

Please, when you board our awful buses or, as is often the case, don’t board it because it never showed up, please don’t see us as the enemy. We are well aware how terrible it is. In efficiency, regularity, quality, and price. When I roll up to your stop twenty minutes late, well aware that the bus before me was also cancelled, I brace myself for impact. And, to be fair, I’m often quite surprised how well you treat us. Because you have places to be, and we regularly fail to get you there, and over-charge you for the privilege.

Plymouth has the worst bus network of any city I have ever come across. I have never known a city with such poorly run services, such high prices, and with two competing companies operating on the same network. If your commute means you have to get two buses to your destination, one Stagecoach and one Citybus, that’s setting you back about £8 a day in skipper tickets. It’s unbelievable. And you can almost guarantee one will be late or won’t turn up. Even if you just need the one service, a dayrider is £6.50. It’s horrendous. Our bus network, far from being a useful and necessary public service, is a poverty trap. If I didn’t get free bus travel as a result of my work, you wouldn’t see me dead catching the bus to work everyday.

A grandmother got on my bus the other day, from Coypool Park and Ride into town. She bought the tickets for herself, her daughter, and her granddaughter. Something you’d think would just be a simple and small act of generosity; “don’t worry, I’ll get the tickets.”. It cost her £18 in and back.

£18. For two adults and a child. To get a 10 minute bus into town and back. I felt embarrassed to charge her for it. 

It’s the same story with George Park and Ride to Derriford Hospital. £2.50 each way, for a journey that takes about 4 minutes. £5 to get to the hospital and back. From the Park and Ride.

And then, if you catch the bus regularly, it’s highly likely you’ve been on a bus that’s broken down, either with you on it, or before it came. This is because the buses are in an absolutely terrible state. It is extremely rare that I take over a bus without a dashboard warning light. It is entirely normal and expected to drive with engine management warnings, and warnings such as ‘brake linings worn’ and ‘engine malfunction.’ Our company policy is allegedly that we must stop driving when a red warning light comes up (although nobody seems to know where this policy is actually written down), but in reality management will often pressure you to keep driving. Last week, my handbrake failed and I was advised to keep going. I said no. 

And that could often be a reason why your bus hasn’t turned up. Because the bus has a serious fault, and the driver has held his or her nerve and refused to drive it, despite open pressure from management - who, of course, receive bonuses for services running, regardless of the safety, or lack thereof of the bus and, as a result, the driver and passengers.

There are times when I drive the bus with about 90 passengers on board. And I do so under the direction of management that does not care if the buses are safe or not. So if your bus hasn’t turned up, it’s possible that it’s because the driver is currently having an argument with management, attempting to convince them that being responsible for the deaths of 90 plus people is not all in a normal day’s work.

We are working in a shocking environment, delivering a shocking service to an unhappy public. We take no pleasure at all in how poor it all is. We would like to take pride in our work. We are professionals, trained to drive large vehicles in difficult conditions, and we provide what could be a useful public service. And yet, in reality, our day consists mainly of arguments with management and driving unsafe, overpriced, and poorly scheduled buses.

We wish it was better too. And yes, a lot of bus drivers are miserable bastards, but a lot of that lies in what is happening behind the scenes. You see us sitting on our arses driving around all day. But behind all that is a life of constant stress, arguments, pressure, danger, fatigue, constantly changing shifts, earlies, nights. We work in one of the most safety-critical jobs in society, within a working culture of complete disregard.

And, on top of all of that, comes a sense of responsibility to you. We are working people too. We get bollocked if we’re late for work too. Our time is precious too. We have less money than we’d like too. And so we understand how you feel when we turn up late, or not at all, and then charge you a ridiculous sum for it. You’re now 6 to 8 quid down and late for work. We don’t enjoy inflicting that on you. 

So please, passengers, don’t take your anger out on the driver. Take your anger out on the company behind him, that puts on an overpriced, crap service, is heavily subsidised by the taxpayer, and then pays out millions in profit to its shareholders. The bus drivers are the faces of the bastard organisation, but the real bastards are unseen. 

I hope for you, one day, a world where buses are good.

In solidarity, aware that nothing works properly,

Plymouth Bus Driver

Leftist politics can be a masculine pursuit too. And the new left and right wings have a lot more in common than they think they do.

We leftists are angry, just like those on the right are. We look around and see people working ridiculously long hours, often in crap conditions, with dying and ineffective unions, and struggling to afford food. We see people unable to get jobs, or working in jobs that pay them so poorly, they are essentially pointless.

But we channel that anger in different ways. For us on the left, it is the fault of the system, of the super-rich, of the corruption at the top, of the media that villainises anybody who seeks to put people over profit (see: Jeremy Corbyn), of the muli-billion pound companies that pay off the politicians to get their way. And I think, for the right, they often see it that way too. They’ll say all the same things we do: they’re all the same, they’re corrupt, there’s too much money going around, they’re disconnected from real life. The only real difference, as I see it, is that they take another leap and blame immigrants, or at least, immigration.

And with all of these similarities, we need to recognise that we actually have more in common than we like to admit. And if we want to get together to bring our common goals to fruition, we need to start off by not calling them racist, bigoted thugs all the time. 

I hope that it goes without saying that I’m not talking about the people that are trying to break into asylum hotels. Obviously, that is thuggish behaviour. And, yes, there are lots of people who are just genuinely racist, and that is a massive issue, but not the issue I am discussing here.

Here, I’m talking about the people that are up at 5 or 6 every morning, working long hours, struggling to feed their kids, and then seeing that other people are getting put up in hotels, having their food paid for and thinking “hold on, this doesn’t seem fair.”

We need to understand that feeling. And I find it odd that we don’t. I think a lot of leftists come from privileged positions and don’t understand that struggle.

I’m a bus driver. I’m at work 40, 45, 50, 55 hours a week, and I’m struggling. I live in a little privately rented house with my wife. I would not be able to afford that on my own. I would probably be in a box room, or even a shared house if I was on my own. We do everything as cheaply as we can. We struggle sometimes to afford food. We put it on the credit card. And we get angry about it. We both work too hard to struggle like this. 

And so we both have no problem understanding why those on the right feel the way we do. Because life just feels unfair at the moment. It’s hard. And it’s getting harder.

And so we need to get the message across what we’re actually for. We’re for: better pay for working people, we’re for better working conditions, we’re against profiting off of other people’s struggles, we’re for bringing water and transport into public ownership so that are basic needs aren’t lining the pockets of the super-rich, we’re for affordable housing. We want all the same things that they want. But we spend our time talking about things that aren’t important to your average working person.

Yes, it’s important, obviously, but people who are working 50 hours a week and struggling to feed their families don’t have time to think about Palestine. People who are trying to get to work don’t want their cars blocked off by Just Stop Oil. They’re not concerned about how people feel about their gender identity. They just want to feed themselves and their children, have a couple holidays a year, and be able to enjoy their leisure time. 

We focus on the wrong things, and we’re driving away millions of people who could be on our side. We’re driving them into the arms of Farage who doesn’t have their best interests at heart. Yes, he might give them what they want immigration-wise, but nothing else.

We need to be getting across to these people that we have their backs. If you’re a hard-working person, you deserve good pay. If you’re a vulnerable person, you deserve to be looked after. Lets stop focussing internally, buying into the culture war nonsense. Let’s make left wing politics cool again. We’re for everybody, not just for posh white boys with dreadlocks.

And let’s bring men - masculine men - back into the fold. Masculine men can bring an anger and an energy to the cause. It can be masculine to stand up for your colleagues by representing them in a union, it can be masculine to stand up to the super-rich, masculine to demand better working conditions for your neighbours, masculine to provide for your family and your community.

We need to stop calling men toxic, stop calling people concerned with immigration racist. Stop throwing around labels and start actually talking some sense. This is more about class than it is anything else. Most of this country is working class. We talk about a progressive majority, we have a working class majority. And the working class wants the same thing, regardless of who they vote for. They want fair pay, dignity, and freedom. 

Zack Polasnki has done a decent job at changing the perception of the Greens from a bunch of hippies to a serious left wing alternative, but he still occasionally turns against a massive chunk of the country that he should be aiming to stick up for. He talks about Farage and the far-right as an enemy, alienating about a quarter of the country in the process. We need to stop seeing these people as the enemy, and instead see them as our comrades in a fight against the corrupt and the super-rich. Farage, who fuels people’s rage and division, without addressing any of its root causes, may be the enemy, but the average working-class voter who supports him is not. They are lost and angry. Not because they are doing something wrong, not because we know more than them, but because, like me, they are working class in Britain in 2026. And that means they are poorer than they would like, they are struggling, they are tired, and they need somebody to stand up for them.

And as leftists, that should be us.

Leftist politics can be a masculine pursuit too. And the new left and right wings have a lot more in common than they think they do.

We leftists are angry, just like those on the right are. We look around and see people working ridiculously long hours, often in crap conditions, with dying and ineffective unions, and struggling to afford food. We see people unable to get jobs, or working in jobs that pay them so poorly, they are essentially pointless.

But we channel that anger in different ways. For us on the left, it is the fault of the system, of the super-rich, of the corruption at the top, of the media that villainises anybody who seeks to put people over profit (see: Jeremy Corbyn), of the muli-billion pound companies that pay off the politicians to get their way. And I think, for the right, they often see it that way too. They’ll say all the same things we do: they’re all the same, they’re corrupt, there’s too much money going around, they’re disconnected from real life. The only real difference, as I see it, is that they take another leap and blame immigrants, or at least, immigration.

And with all of these similarities, we need to recognise that we actually have more in common than we like to admit. And if we want to get together to bring our common goals to fruition, we need to start off by not calling them racist, bigoted thugs all the time. 

I hope that it goes without saying that I’m not talking about the people that are trying to break into asylum hotels. Obviously, that is thuggish behaviour. And, yes, there are lots of people who are just genuinely racist, and that is a massive issue, but not the issue I am discussing here.

Here, I’m talking about the people that are up at 5 or 6 every morning, working long hours, struggling to feed their kids, and then seeing that other people are getting put up in hotels, having their food paid for and thinking “hold on, this doesn’t seem fair.”

We need to understand that feeling. And I find it odd that we don’t. I think a lot of leftists come from privileged positions and don’t understand that struggle.

I’m a bus driver. I’m at work 40, 45, 50, 55 hours a week, and I’m struggling. I live in a little privately rented house with my wife. I would not be able to afford that on my own. I would probably be in a box room, or even a shared house if I was on my own. We do everything as cheaply as we can. We struggle sometimes to afford food. We put it on the credit card. And we get angry about it. We both work too hard to struggle like this. 

And so we both have no problem understanding why those on the right feel the way we do. Because life just feels unfair at the moment. It’s hard. And it’s getting harder.

And so we need to get the message across what we’re actually for. We’re for: better pay for working people, we’re for better working conditions, we’re against profiting off of other people’s struggles, we’re for bringing water and transport into public ownership so that are basic needs aren’t lining the pockets of the super-rich, we’re for affordable housing. We want all the same things that they want. But we spend our time talking about things that aren’t important to your average working person.

Yes, it’s important, obviously, but people who are working 50 hours a week and struggling to feed their families don’t have time to think about Palestine. People who are trying to get to work don’t want their cars blocked off by Just Stop Oil. They’re not concerned about how people feel about their gender identity. They just want to feed themselves and their children, have a couple holidays a year, and be able to enjoy their leisure time. 

We focus on the wrong things, and we’re driving away millions of people who could be on our side. We’re driving them into the arms of Farage who doesn’t have their best interests at heart. Yes, he might give them what they want immigration-wise, but nothing else.

We need to be getting across to these people that we have their backs. If you’re a hard-working person, you deserve good pay. If you’re a vulnerable person, you deserve to be looked after. Lets stop focussing internally, buying into the culture war nonsense. Let’s make left wing politics cool again. We’re for everybody, not just for posh white boys with dreadlocks.

And let’s bring men - masculine men - back into the fold. Masculine men can bring an anger and an energy to the cause. It can be masculine to stand up for your colleagues by representing them in a union, it can be masculine to stand up to the super-rich, masculine to demand better working conditions for your neighbours, masculine to provide for your family and your community.

We need to stop calling men toxic, stop calling people concerned with immigration racist. Stop throwing around labels and start actually talking some sense. This is more about class than it is anything else. Most of this country is working class. We talk about a progressive majority, we have a working class majority. And the working class wants the same thing, regardless of who they vote for. They want fair pay, dignity, and freedom. 

Zack Polasnki has done a decent job at changing the perception of the Greens from a bunch of hippies to a serious left wing alternative, but he still occasionally turns against a massive chunk of the country that he should be aiming to stick up for. He talks about Farage and the far-right as an enemy, alienating about a quarter of the country in the process. We need to stop seeing these people as the enemy, and instead see them as our comrades in a fight against the corrupt and the super-rich. Farage, who fuels people’s rage and division, without addressing any of its root causes, may be the enemy, but the average working-class voter who supports him is not. They are lost and angry. Not because they are doing something wrong, not because we know more than them, but because, like me, they are working class in Britain in 2026. And that means they are poorer than they would like, they are struggling, they are tired, and they need somebody to stand up for them.

And as leftists, that should be us.

This is just a little piece I wrote before a shift yesterday.

That’s probably me now. A bus driver for life.

I don’t see a way out of this.

Where else am I going to go and make £16.47 an hour, with yearly or two-yearly increases? Not exactly in line with inflation, but better than most of the rest of the country. I’ll drive a bus, becoming slowly poorer by the year, until I die, most likely.

It was a godsend when it first came along. Even the £14 an hour they started me on during training was a lot more than I’d ever had. Plus the training itself. I’d never had a job that paid for me to train and learn and gain a license or qualification before. All I had to do was agree to stay with them for two years.

That’s how a lot of people have become trapped here.

“How long you been doing this?” I ask.

“Too long.” they almost inevitably say, with a mock eye roll.

I fake laugh.

“Twenty five years.” they say. “I took it as a stop gap. I’ve left a couple of times but always came back.”

Nobody really wants to be here. But it’s not bad really. It’s easy work. That’s the prevailing attitude. And I have to agree with them, really. You turn up, pick up your duty card, and off you go. Left to it. Drive where they tell you, when they tell you. Don’t crash. And you can spend most of your time not having to put up with workplace bullshit.

The workplace bullshit craves an outlet though, obviously, and tries to force its way in. You can get involved in it if that’s your style. Just hang out in the canteen. The Plymouth drivers are slagging off the Tavi drivers, the Tavi drivers doing the same, eighteen miles away. The drivers are slagging off the management, then pretending to bum them when they walk in. Nobody seems ashamed of this behaviour. 

I don’t know why it bothers me so much to be here. I actually quite enjoy it. And a couple of times have gone as far as to say I love it - in short doses. A couple of hours driving before having a break is ideal, and quite enjoyable really. Driving around, maneuvering this large vehicle, arm out the window. It’s skilled work. Unappreciated by the public, but skilled nonetheless. 

The long stints are tough. I have one today. About 5 hours on the same route, basically non-stop. That gets hard. It brings on a level of fatigue that is hard to explain to an outsider. It’s about half an hour short of the legal limit: bus drivers can drive local routes for 5 and half hours before having a 30 minute break and going again. It’s brutal. Absolutely brutal. But, as bastardish as I can find my employer sometimes, they don’t put us through that level of brutality very often.

We have a union here - RMT. The National Union of Rail, Maritime and Transport Workers. You might have seen them on the tele. Mick Lynch and Eddie Dempsey. The old school working class kind of guys, standing up for the workers. Thick London accents and a complete absence of bullshit, given or taken. Locally, it’s a bit different. We have Kev. Been doing the role for 25 years, doesn’t want anyone else involved. Other than his cronies, obviously. I’ve been in to inquire about getting involved, helping out, a few times. Enough times to start being a nuisance. I’m always met with a bit of a cold shoulder. We don’t have any roles, we don’t have any meetings, I’m told. I’ve escalated it higher, to somebody outside of our immediate workplace. Felt like a bit of a snitch. That’s all gone a bit quiet too.

I don’t know exactly why I’m so desperate to get involved. I think it’s because the work lacks meaning as it is. I’m not ashamed of the work or the wage, although obviously I’d like a bit more status and wealth than I currently have. It's the purposelessness of it that woes me, I think. I like the idea of, even if it was primarily voluntarily, doing something with a bit of meaning. Standing up for my colleagues against the tyranny of the managerial class more immediately, and standing up for my comrades against the class of the elites more generally.

Is it wrong to do selfless things for selfish ends? It’s not the power that I crave, although some of that wouldn’t go amiss, obviously. It’s the meaning, the purpose, the solidarity, the comradery, the feeling that I am affecting something, making life better for somebody. My life moves listlessly as it stands. 

I’m a Labour party member but I don’t really know why. Opportunities to get involved there seem slimmer than in my local union branch. I’ve heard nothing since I joined. I go to the members area online and all I see are webinars, teaching me to campaign. I don’t want to campaign, I want to make a difference. To me campaigning for Labour, right now at least, would be very much: 

VOTE LABOUR!

Why?

I don’t know, really.

The hours are long here. And they can mess you around. I’m on what they call a ‘spare’ roster, which means, basically, I get all the hours left over. The deal is that they give me my hours for the following week by 12pm Wednesday. Never happens. 12pm comes, I check. Nothing. I give them a call, and they lump me with whatever is available. 

The days can be around about 10 hours, for about 8 hours pay. Big long unpaid breaks, smack bang in the middle of the day. It’s one of those jobs that is a lifestyle, but not a cool one like a fireman. It’s just a fatiguing and fattening one. A lot of people hang around on their breaks, chatting rubbish in the canteen, or sitting in their cars. Not for me. If my break is that long, I have to fit in something worthwhile, something that would take up my time outside of a working day. That way, it doesn’t feel like they’re robbing me of that unpaid time. I have a quick bite to eat and I go to the gym. For me, it is vital to reclaim that unpaid time as my own, because it is. I won’t let them have it, either literally or spiritually. 

And this is how I spend my days. It’s sort of okay. It’s sort of killing me inside. I see no way out, but I know that this is no different to many of the people in my situation, the world over. We are the working class, working is what we do. That’s the hand we were dealt and, for now, I just keep on working. 

Until Mr Dempsey gives me the call to be his right hand man.