ONE frequently hears it said: London resembles New York more and more. True, the comparisons are often over stated. And the Big Apple, by all accounts, is undergoing something of a transformation. But the sense persists that the public images and signs point to the same underlying: problems - or, at any rate, to the potential for them.
Many people, of course, have never been to New York. They draw their impressions from television and the movies. And they could be forgiven for thinking the USA has arrived in London as they listen to the sirens of the police cars, wailing at all hours of the day and night, pursuing villains at high speed and evoking memories of Starsky and Hutch.
They see other more enduring similarities, too. All around them, every day - the neglect, the dirt, the crowded tube and railway stations, the weary commuters packed into grimy, creaking trains. And the people going nowhere, inhabitants of cardboard cities and shop doorways, dotting the Strand's regal route to Simpson's and the Savoy - the constant reminder that the state's "safety net" simply doesn't catch all those who fall.
Back out in the suburbs, they live within constraints which would once, quite simply, have been considered un British. Children, even in their early teens, remain imprisoned at home, transported to any social event, otherwise denied essential exposure to concepts of independence and self reliance.
Permitted an occasional foray to a local shop, parents fretfully await their safe return. The statistics say the anxieties are largely unjustified. But each new high profile attack fortifies the fear that "it could be your child". And the state of high alert will move up several gears as summer approaches.
THE major parties battle for supremacy on the law and order issue. But seems to shake the perception that our streets, parklands and open spaces are pregnant with danger. The same now goes for our roads. And the appalling fate of Stephen Cameron, stabbed to death in front of his 17 year old girlfriend, blows the myth that things are any better out in the sticks.
Road rage, another American import, has reached "epidemic" proportions, according to Judged Gerald Butler QC. And whatever the reasons for it - stress, tension, power plays associated with powerful machines, or psychotic fantasies - they seem rampant the length and breadth of the country.
Not so long ago high pressure living was deemed a symptom of life in the big metropolis. And the motion persisted that people outside London lived life at an altogether more leisurely pace. But the animal aggression is spreading. In Leeds, Paul Conlon - angry at delays caused by an accident - drove through the jam, crushing Wayne Margrave to death. In Manchester, a pedestrian who forced a van driver to brake was beaten senseless by the two occupants of the vehicle. A chauffeur, Tony Hart, leapt from his limousine last October, banged a motor cyclist's head on the ground and throttled him until he was unconscious.
According to an AA survey, 90 per cent of motorists have experience of road rage. Fewer of us, 60 per cent, admit to losing our temper behind the wheel. But it's an everyday occurrence - the defiant one finger raised in answer toe two from a passing car; the air blue with insult - at the delivery man double parked, oblivious to the build up behind him; at the idiot who seems content to wait until his approach is absolutely clear at the lunatic who slows as he approaches the lights, only to accelerate just as they change.
Adrenalin pumping, blood pressure up, psychologists say motorists are ready with a "stoneage" response to honker, headlight flashers and taildoggers. Like rats trapped in over crowded spaces, they'll fight for their territory, from within the strong suit of armour that is the car.
The consequences can be horrendous 1.8 million cases of cars forced off the road in 1995, 500,000 cars deliberately rammed, an estimated 800,000 cases of people physically threatened, according to the Lex Report on Motoring.
It is reported that Stephen Cameron's attacker was enraged by a shake of the head. In my own case the would be aggressor (from whom I mercifully escaped) incensed by a roll of the eyes. It was a quiet, sunny Sunday morning. Taking the rat track trail South London streets, I encountered the truck. The driver ignored three available opportunities to pull in and me pass. We had an impasse.
After a brief delay prudence stated that I reverse the length the road. As the yobbish driver sailed triumphantly past, my face betrayed my irritation.
Big mistake. Minutes there he was on my tail, along, fist clenched, face contorted with rage. I'd reached opening to the main road, I waited for the oncoming to clear, he pounced, pulling the car door and banging on roof. The break came just in and I sped off, leaving him punching the air.
The experts may well be right." Maybe he didn't appreciate that his actions reflected his underlying stress and aggression. ,But that would have been cold comfort had it connected with my face. And there will be no reassurance for the family of Cameron in the assertion "may have been the tragic of a driver momentarily convinced that right was on his side." No, the AA's Andrew Howard surely got it right: "Road rage is very nasty criminal behaviour. If this happened in a bus queue people would look on it as, murder."