My Lords, I express some degree of surprise that my noble friend Lord Berkeley has tabled this amendment. If you make rest-day working in the railway industry mandatory, it ceases to be rest-day working, does it not? The whole purpose of rest-day working is to see that people take a break from their work. While my noble friend outlined the difficulties that have arisen in various parts of the railway system because people have declined to work their rest days, that is not really the fault of the people themselves or their much-maligned trade unions.
The fact is that, particularly since privatisation—although it happened under British Rail as well—railway staffing has been reduced as much as possible. The
first thing that Stagecoach did when it took over South West Trains was to make lots of train drivers redundant. Not surprisingly, the ones who were left declined to work their rest days; they declined to work overtime. The number of cancellations in the first two years of Stagecoach’s operation of South West Trains rose accordingly.
I recommend to my noble friend a book called Red for Danger, written by a man called Tom Rolt—LTC Rolt—who sets out railway accidents since the 19th century, many of which were caused by tiredness because of the number of hours worked by drivers and signalmen. I will give one example. In 1892, the Thirsk accident, which killed some 35 people, was caused by a signalman falling asleep. He fell asleep because his infant daughter had been ill, and he had spent two days trying to find a doctor for her, but she had died. He tried to get time off after her death—he was on nights at the time—but the stationmaster refused permission. He had been awake for 46 hours. Two express trains crashed as a result.
Following that tragic accident, in 1906 the House of Commons at least debated the question of railway hours and the fact that many railway workers worked excessively. Perhaps noble Lords will not be surprised to learn that the debate did not spread to this end of the Corridor—obviously, noble Lords at that time had other things on their minds. Coming reasonably up to date, my noble friend Lord Berkeley will remember the Clapham Junction accident in 1988, where a considerable number of people were killed. That was caused by an error by a signal lineman who had worked every single day for the previous three weeks.
Arising from accidents like those, rest days were introduced by the railway industry around the time of the First World War. If train services cannot be maintained at a particular depot without rest-day working, then that depot is undermanned—it is as simple as that. Whether my noble friend the Minister can promise that such circumstances will not happen under Great British Railways is something I will leave with him.
I hope I have made it quite plain that I am not one of those people who thinks that everything about privatisation was wicked, but one of the downsides of privatisation was at least the tendency to run railway operations with a minimum number of people. I hope my noble friend Lord Berkeley will reflect on, understand and accept the fact that rest days are there for a particular purpose, and that he will withdraw his amendment.