Since the turn of the year, much of the UK has become all too familiar with grey skies and persistent rain. It feels, at times, as though it has rained every single day. As a parent of two boys who see half-term as an Olympic training camp rather than a quiet break, I have watched more footballs skid across saturated grass than I care to count. Yet while many of us default to grumbling about the weather, those of us who work in transport know that sustained rainfall does more than disrupt weekend plans. It exposes weakness. It finds every hairline crack in our road network and quietly, methodically, works it wider. After only a few hours of heavy rain, small surface imperfections become fissures; before long, those fissures evolve into craters capable of swallowing tyres and, occasionally, one’s pride. I know this not just professionally, but personally, having contributed to the local economy via an unplanned alloy wheel repair.
In a season defined by water, the humble pothole has become one of the most candid indicators of the state of our transport infrastructure. It does not wait for a consultation period, a cabinet report or a carefully crafted press release. It simply appears, often overnight, as a blunt and unavoidable reminder that parts of the system are under strain. For the motorist, it is an irritation or a hazard. For local media, it is a reliable headline. For elected members, it is urgent and emotive. For those of us working within a transport environment context, it is something else entirely: a small but potent metaphor for governance, funding, accountability, climate resilience and the lived reality of everyday mobility.
In strategic conversations across the transport sector, potholes rarely take centre stage. We are much more comfortable discussing integrated networks, pathways, bus reform, rail enhancement, freight strategy, demand modelling and the intricacies of appraisal frameworks. We debate modal shift targets and the elasticities of induced demand. We refine business cases for transformative infrastructure. All of this is essential. But the public does not experience transport through strategy documents; however much we love writing them. They experience it through surfaces, services and reliability. A deep crater on a residential street communicates something brutally simple: the system is not being properly looked after. It does not matter how sophisticated the strategy is if the basics appear neglected. Public confidence in transport is cumulative and fragile, shaped less by glossy diagrams than by the daily sensation of whether the journey feels safe, smooth and dependable.
There is, in my view, a structural bias within transport funding that favours capital investment over maintenance. Capital is tangible, finite and photogenic. It lends itself to ministerial visits, ribbon-cuttings and artistic impressions of future plazas. Maintenance is none of those things. When done well, it is invisible. It does not transform; it sustains. It does not create a new line on a map; it preserves the integrity of the existing one. Major projects such as new rail links, bypasses or stations are high-profile and politically resonant. They have defined beginnings and ends. They can be announced, delivered and celebrated. Multi-year resurfacing programmes or drainage upgrades, by contrast, are continuous and rarely glamorous. They do not trend on social media. Yet when maintenance is deferred, the consequences are felt viscerally by everyone who uses the network.
The imbalance between capital splashiness and maintenance fundamentals creates a deeper political challenge. The public perceives transport credibility through reliability and condition, even if our strategic frameworks focus on long-term transformation. A shiny new scheme may capture attention for a week, but a deteriorating local road invites daily frustration. It is difficult to persuade communities to embrace ambitious strategies or modal shift policies if the carriageway outside their front door resembles the surface of the moon.
The governance landscape remains intricate. Responsibility for road maintenance often sits with County Councils or Unitary Authorities. Strategic trunk roads fall under national bodies. Bus services may be franchised in one area and deregulated in another. Rail operates under its own distinct structures. Funding flows through multiple channels, each with its own criteria and timescales. To professionals, this complexity is navigable, even if occasionally exasperating. To the public, it is irrelevant. The network is experienced as a single entity. When a pothole appears, no one pauses to consider which tier of government is responsible for that classification of road. The question is simpler and sharper: why has this not been fixed?
This is where potholes become politically charged. They collapse the abstract distinctions between institutions into a single perceived failure. As someone working within a Combined Authority, I am acutely aware of the nuance: the distribution of responsibilities, the constraints on funding, the careful coordination required between partners. Yet I am also aware that explaining governance structures to a driver who has just damaged a tyre is unlikely to be well received. The pothole does not respect organisational charts or RACIs.
At the heart of the issue lies the nature of maintenance funding. Road maintenance depends on recurrent revenue rather than one-off capital allocations. It requires predictable, multi-year settlements that allow Authorities to plan resurfacing cycles, preventative treatments and drainage improvements in a systematic way. It requires asset management strategies grounded in lifecycle analysis. Yet too often, funding settlements are short term or subject to competitive bidding processes. Authorities are encouraged to innovate, to compete, to demonstrate value, but the underlying need is stability.
When budgets are tight, maintenance can be deferred. The logic is understandable: if a surface can survive another winter, perhaps funds can be redirected to meet immediate pressures. But deferred maintenance accumulates. Backlogs grow. Minor cracks become structural weaknesses. Reactive repair becomes the norm. And reactive repair, while sometimes necessary, is inherently more expensive and less efficient than planned intervention. It is also more visible. A pothole is reported, a crew is dispatched, a patch is laid and, understandably, a photograph is taken. It feels responsive. Preventative maintenance, by contrast, avoids the pothole altogether. It is the repair that never trends.
There is a pointed metaphor embedded within a pothole. It is the physical manifestation of cumulative trade-offs made over time: choices shaped by constrained budgets, political cycles and competing priorities. It reminds us that systems fail gradually before they fail visibly. By the time a pothole opens up, the underlying stress has been present for months, sometimes years.
Climate change is accelerating this dynamic. Rainfall intensity has increased, and weather patterns have become more volatile. Heatwaves soften asphalt. Heavy downpours infiltrate sub-base layers. Freeze-thaw cycles expand minor cracks into significant fractures. The engineering stress placed on our roads is intensifying. This is not theoretical; it is measurable. Yet many maintenance planning frameworks were historically calibrated against past weather patterns rather than future projections.
In parts of the country, geology compounds this vulnerability. In the Fens of Cambridgeshire, extensive sections of the highway network are built upon peat soils. Peat is inherently unstable. It shrinks and oxidises over time, particularly when drained. It is susceptible to prolonged dry spells followed by intense rainfall. The result is not simply surface cracking but differential settlement and subsidence that place extraordinary strain on road structures. What appears as a straightforward pothole may in fact be the visible symptom of deeper ground movement.
Recognising this, the Combined Authority is funding joint studies with Cambridgeshire County Council to better understand how to maintain road surfaces in peat-affected areas and to quantify the economic consequences of repeated failure. This work is about more than patching defects. It is about integrating geotechnical realities, climate projections and asset management strategies into a coherent approach. It is about acknowledging that design assumptions based on historical norms are increasingly insufficient.
Climate stress, peat subsidence and constrained funding together create a complex challenge. Maintenance planning must evolve to incorporate future climate scenarios and local soil conditions. This is less likely to capture headlines than a new station opening, but it is central to economic resilience. When peat-affected roads fail, freight is delayed, bus reliability suffers, emergency services are disrupted and local businesses bear costs that rarely feature in strategic summaries. Understanding and quantifying those impacts is essential if we are to make the case for sustained investment.
Public trust in transport systems is cumulative and surprisingly delicate. A well-maintained road attracts rarely attracts praise, yet a deteriorating surface will be immediately criticised. People may not recall the detail of a transport strategy, but they will remember the jolt of a wheel hitting a hidden crater in pooled rainwater. They will remember the inconvenience of vehicle repairs or the anxiety of cycling along a fractured carriageway. These experiences shape perceptions of competence.
It would be disingenuous to pretend that frustrations do not arise. As a transport professional, I spend considerable time immersed in strategy, funding negotiations and partnership discussions. As a parent and motorist, I occasionally find myself slowing to a crawl to avoid a familiar depression in the road, wondering whether it has developed overnight or whether I have simply memorised its contours through repeated encounters. The professional part of my brain analyses drainage patterns and asset backlogs. The personal part wonders whether I should have opted for sturdier tyres.
Humour aside, there is something grounding about these moments. They remind me that transport is ultimately about lived experience. It is about the reliability of school runs, commutes, deliveries and leisure trips. Grand visions of integrated networks must be anchored in the condition of the surfaces people use every day. If the everyday experience deteriorates, confidence in the broader vision weakens.
Embedding a maintenance-first culture is not an argument against ambition. On the contrary, it is a prerequisite for credible ambition. Transformative projects and routine upkeep are not competitors; they are complementary. A new transport corridor cannot fulfil its potential if connecting local roads are in poor condition. A bus franchising model will struggle to deliver reliability if vehicles are constantly navigating degraded surfaces. Strategic coherence requires alignment between the spectacular and the mundane.
This alignment also requires honest communication. It involves explaining funding constraints without resorting to defensiveness. It involves clarifying roles and responsibilities without appearing evasive. It involves demonstrating that maintenance is planned, prioritised and informed by evidence, including emerging climate data and geotechnical research. Transparency builds trust, even when resources are limited.
The pothole, then, is not merely a defect in asphalt. It is a small but telling signal about system health. It highlights the consequences of deferred investment. It exposes the tension between short-term political cycles and long-term asset stewardship. It reflects the complexity of governance arrangements that are clear to professionals but opaque to the public. It underscores the accelerating impact of climate change and the importance of adapting maintenance frameworks accordingly.
For peers across the transport sector, the message is not that we should abandon transformative ambition in favour of endless resurfacing. Rather, it is that credibility is built from the ground up. The case for I modal shift and integrated regional growth will be stronger if it is accompanied by visible competence in maintaining what already exists. The everyday reliability of the network is not peripheral to strategy; it is foundational.
As the rain continues to fall and the half-term hockey remains intermittently waterlogged, I am reminded that infrastructure is both physical and symbolic. Roads carry vehicles, but they also carry meaning. Their condition signals care or neglect, foresight or short-termism. If we wish to demonstrate that devolved governance can deliver, that local leadership understands place-specific challenges such as peat soils and climate stress, and that transport strategy is grounded in reality, then we must treat maintenance as the strategic priority it truly is.
Potholes may be small in scale, but they loom large in perception. They are where policy meets pavement. They are where abstract funding debates translate into a tangible bump in the road. And if we are serious about earning and retaining public trust, we must ensure that our grand visions are matched by smooth, resilient surfaces beneath our wheels. In transport, as in politics, credibility is not announced; it is experienced.
Tim Bellamy is Assistant Director – Transport at Cambridgeshire & Peterborough Combined Authority
Tim originally published this article on LinkedIn on 23rd February 2026
Feature Image: Author Sourced