Of course Uber is not safe for women, but what alternative do we have?

With a fully serviced Night Tube promised almost half a decade ago, Londoners have waited years to get home safely in one of the most well-connected cities in the world

How do you get home alone at night? Do you wait for the night bus while trying to remain inconspicuous, then pick a seat as close to the driver as possible? Do you get on the Night Tube – if indeed it travels in your direction – then hit a stride for the walk back, perhaps also with keys clutched firmly between your knuckles? If you have money – cash – perhaps you wander the streets in a busy area hoping to see an orange light, and that you see it before someone else does. Or do you simply order an Uber?

If you’re a man, chances are the first three options don’t feel very familiar. You probably just walk home, or wait for a bus to arrive, without second thought.

Growing up in south London, I quickly learnt to avoid the night bus when alone: fights, unwanted attention and quiet bus stops had me decide thriftiness wasn’t the priority, getting home safe was. Then I lost count of the times I hailed black cabs at ungodly hours in the morning, only to be told that, sorry, “I don’t go that far” (zone 2; well within the six-mile radius of Charing Cross the black cab drivers are required to say yes to). I acknowledge the privilege of hailing a black cab being a financial option that’s open to me, and this has often made question the worth of a night out in London at all, given that my own journey home is easier than most.

When Uber came into operation in London in 2012, my life after dark, and that of most of my friends, changed immeasurably. We felt as though the city opened up to us: we no longer based our attendance at parties on whether someone would also be heading our way home, or stayed hours after we wanted to leave just so a male friend could walk us. One click of a button and we felt safe.

That, we now know, was an illusion. Uber’s ​lax approach to safety has resulted in a necessary and repeated backlash against the service. When the ride-hailing app lost its licence in 2017, it was because (among other concerns) it was failing to report sexual assaults, putting passengers at terrible risk. Police estimated that there were 48 attacks involving Uber drivers between February 2015 and 2017.

In October of last year, the company launched new safety measures including the “share my trip” function, which allows riders to send a friend their tracking details. Uber drivers were no longer able to save a passenger’s address or access their phone number. It also included a panic button.

But it wasn’t enough. This week Uber had its licence revoked once again by TfL, after it concluded that at least 14,000 journeys in the capital were conducted by unauthorised drivers – an alarming statistic.

Uber is now available in 600 cities worldwide. London is right to put all measures in place to ensure it complies with the safety concerns of the regulator. But, riddle me this: what if the regulator cracked down on companies who aren’t compliant with safety rules and then replaced them with genuinely affordable alternatives?

Removing Uber solves one problem but it puts women at risk from other dangers. If a black cab driver wants to attack someone, is a rider genuinely safer? Without GPS tracking, it doesn’t feel safer. Police believe black cab rapist John Worboys may have carried out more than 100 sexual assaults and rapes when he was active between 2006 and 2008.

There’s a price on women’s safety. Those privileged enough to afford a black cab have a choice, to almost £10 per mile or to wait at a bus stop, hope there is no one creepy on the bus, then walk through the streets alone. Uber opened up a whole new world for many thanks to its affordable prices which made them accessible. Women turned to Uber for safety reasons, not just convenience.

TfL has promised a fully serviced Night Tube almost half a decade. London’s women have waited years to get home safe in one of the most well-connected cities in the world. The enormous success of the Night Tube shows that Londoners wanted it – and it explains the success of Uber and the decline in black cabs, too. Many bus stops still lack live arrival boards. It’s no wonder Uber has been picking up a reported 14 million trips a day worldwide.

Every Christmas, TfL dusts off its Safer Travel at Night campaign, reminding people (mostly women) about the dangers of unbooked minicabs and urging they book cabs or hail black cabs. The victim-blaming aside, it’s a poor effort from TfL given that it doesn’t offer more night buses during the festive season or extend the night service on the Tube to account for Christmas celebrations either. Meanwhile, Manchester has just offered extended tram services during December to ensure revellers can get home safely.

And that’s before TfL takes a look at its own record on safety. Reports of sexual assaults on the London Underground have risen by 42 per cent in the past four years. No doubt better awareness of the right to make a complaint and where to do so has contributed to this statistic, but the sharp rise is still concerning and it hardly serves to make women feel safe – especially when the majority of assaults recorded took place on the Central line, which has no CCTV and will continue to operate without it until 2023.

So yes, TfL is right to hold Uber to account on safety. But it must also increase regulation of other minicab companies too and look at its own services. With a lack of viable alternatives, is it any wonder many passengers are questioning whether this latest move really is about prioritising passengers’ safety, or the interest of black cab unions?