Philosophy by train

I remember taking the train to school. It took over an hour each way - partly because I refused to attend the local, outer suburban high school and instead enrolled myself in a selective entry, inner city, accelerated learning school.

The train ride never bothered me. I had my friends Liam and Alan for company, plus a good solid hour in which to read, write, listen to music or zone out. Getting on the train out in the outer suburbs meant I always got a seat. What I do remember strongly is one train driver, who used to put a slight twist on the usually banal announcements of upcoming stations.

"Next stop is Oakleigh - if you get off the train, go eight doors down and visit Sammy's Deli - tell them I sent you and ask for the special."

"Good morning passengers. Today is the anniversary of George Orwell's death. I would ask that you show your respects, but given that this message is coming to you on mass transit, through a speaker system as you are all packed in like cattle, the irony speaks for itself."

"Hello fellow travellers. Since the statistical probability of at least one person on this train having a birthday today is quite high, I'd like you all to lead me in a cheer. Hip Hip Hooray! Thank you."

I did like this guy - he only operated trains on my line on certain days. But even though it sounds naff and rather silly, any break to the monotony of train travel for a bored schoolboy was most welcome. I can only imagine what it must have been like for those hundreds of people who travelled long distances to jobs they hated.

When I lived in London a few years back (as every white, middle class arty person must), I loved hearing the age-old announcement of 'Mind the Gap' when travelling on the Tube. The whole feel of the London Underground is nostalgic, from the decor and design of the stations, to the loudspeaker announcements, to men in boiler suits off to work in the Bank district. Mr Banks from Mary Poppins would look no more out of place in 2009 than he did in 1940.

Now, London artist Jeremy Deller has been working with Tube drivers and operational staff on the Piccadilly line to produce a new work of art – a booklet of quotes entitled 'What is the city but the people?'

The passport-sized booklet will be given to operational staff on the Piccadilly line from February 2009. Drivers and platform staff will be encouraged to use the quotes in their daily communications with customers – building on the rapport which many already have with their customers and helping to enliven millions of journeys by adding an element of unexpected humour.

The fact that there exists a program called 'Art on the Underground' is in itself so very British. There is a deep understanding of the need for art in the British psyche, but for decades the stiff, restricted culture of Proper Britain would never have allowed the world of practical transport to intersect with the world of art. By marrying the harmless, sweet and light-hearted process of doling out quotes with the monotonous daily travel endured by millions of Londoners, they've come up with a lovely project.

As the London Underground states:

'What is the city but the people?' aims to generate a more positive atmosphere during peak times. It also encourages the many voices of the Tube’s staff to re-enter the environment of the network, bringing some of the personalities which have made it famous to the forefront once more. Coming from a wide range of philosophical, political and historical sources, the quotes provoke thought on life in the city, especially as heard on the London Underground.

I hope this goes further than just the Piccadilly Line. I'd also hope that similar projects can be put in place here in Australia, but I doubt it. The recent debacles surrounding the privatisation of public transport in Melbourne have killed any personality to the process. Regardless of any advertising campaign asking me to 'Love my tram', I cannot love the money-making apparatus of a private corporation. Likewise, any personality injected into the system will likely be regarded with cynicism and backlash by the paying traveller.

I don't feel like the transport system of my home town of Melbourne necessarily embodies the personality of the city itself. Yes, the iconic tram is a definite recognisable symbol, but step on that tram and be greeted with corporate colours, cold, faceless electronic systems and tram conductors that emulate the Gestapo at the best of times.

My old train driver is probably long retired now, but I'm glad he was there, and had this very idea himself, ten years ago, on the Pakenham line of the Met.