SHANGHAI is an intimidating place for motorists, especially novices.

Ever since I mustered the courage to get behind the wheel early this year, chauffeuring my wife between home and work, I’ve realized first-hand how terrorizing it could be to drive in Shanghai.

It’s no exaggeration to say that China has some of the world’s worst drivers — and Shanghai some of the country’s worst. The frequent lane changes, sudden merging and swerving, and reckless races to get ahead combine to make Shanghai’s roads a dangerous place.

And the danger is highest when you let your guard down. On at least several occasions, I’ve been driving properly in the middle of my lane, at a safe distance of about one car-length from the vehicle ahead of me, only to have some pinhead suddenly cut ahead of me without even bothering to signal.

Overwhelmed by an adrenalin rush, I often can’t help letting loose a stream of abuse in such cases. I don’t know whether this is an early symptom of road rage — an affliction many suffer from, at least judging by the prodigious horn-honking of Shanghai’s motorists — but my temper does flare more often when I’m in the driver’s seat.

What irks me most is the pervasive disregard for traffic regulations.

It’s not unusual to see cars straddling two lanes, as if hedging bets on which one has less traffic. It’s always intriguing that many motorists can’t stick to a single lane and, as my experience indicates, they don’t care to signal when overtaking another car. And the last thing they are likely to do is yield to pedestrians when making a right turn.

Rookie drivers

So many transgressions on the road is a sad sign of how badly traffic rules need to be more strictly implemented. One driver’s unpunished offense leads to a succession of copycat excesses, and in no time traffic becomes a knot of sheer madness. This reminds me of an article by a colleague, in which she wrote, quite insightfully, that “rookie drivers must first unlearn the rules learned at driving schools.”

One of the most egregious violations of traffic regulations is the rampant hogging of bus-only lanes. Designed originally to prioritize the humble bus, they have become barely distinguishable from other lanes in terms of how they are used. My daily drive passes a crossroads near the Yan’an Elevated Highway and Jiangsu Road. The bus-only lanes there exist in name only, as they are usually occupied by cars.

At times cars are deterred from entering these lanes only at the sight of a policeman nearby. But sometimes even the police presence doesn’t help. Drivers seem to know that a single cop can’t possibly stop and fine every offending motorist, otherwise traffic would come to a complete standstill. As long as things don’t come to a head, many policemen just stand by as a long column of vehicles clogs the bus-only lane.

I’m not saying I’m a more righteous driver than most; I must confess that once in a while I myself couldn’t resist the temptation to drive on the bus lane — and considered myself lucky to slip past the policeman.

Perhaps due to mounting complaints from bus companies, municipal traffic authorities appear to be finally stepping up their crackdown on the “privatization” of bus-only lanes. When I drove past the aforementioned intersection lately, except for a few wayward drivers that dared to defy the rules — and pay the 50 yuan (US$7.8) fine as a result — most were wise enough to avoid police attention.

Emphasis on the exclusive nature of bus-only lanes is also reflected in a raft of official measures. For instance, a 4.5-kilometer-long section of Xizang Road S. in Huangpu District was recently repainted bright red so as to distinguish it from other lanes and, apparently, warn cars to stay away. Such lanes are often painted in bright colors (green and yellow, mostly) or marked with the Chinese characters for “bus” and “taxi.”

But TV news reports have said that despite the new warnings, cars are still spotted driving or parking on the repainted section of Xizang Road S.

According to local regulations, it is illegal to park within 30 meters of bus stops. But apparently this has been ignored outright. So far Shanghai has a network of bus-only lanes stretching 300 kilometers, but if surveys were conducted on the status of these lanes, I’d say less than half are used to the exclusion of unauthorized vehicles.

Although I do support, wholeheartedly, Shanghai authorities’ bid to make bus-only lanes worthy of their names, the current laws and rules simply don’t have any teeth to back up their campaign.

Opposite my office building is a kindergarten that fronts a busy two-lane street. Every morning and afternoon, parents park their cars along the road, paralyzing traffic. Unable to pull over to pick up or let off passengers at these times, the No. 49 bus has to double-park in the middle of the road, unleashing a torrent of car horns from behind.

It’s all too easy to say that we must crack down hard on roadside parking. The question is how to provide a solution that is acceptable to all users of roads.

Recently, I was stunned to read on WeChat that Shanghai authorities had decided that all cars (not including taxis) would be barred from parking within 50 meters of bus stops. Even temporary stops are prohibited. Offenders face a maximum fine of 1,000 yuan.

This post went viral, until it was proved to be a rumor — one spun, perhaps, by disgruntled bus drivers. At the moment, all the police can do, according to reports, is exhort drivers to leave shortly, or stick 200-yuan fines to the side windows of cars when drivers are away.

The problem with parking in public will surely persist for a long time to come. The best we can hope for is that drivers become more public-spirited in a sense that they show greater respect for other citizens, who have equal right of way.

Some say congestion is a price drivers pay for living in a metropolis like Shanghai. But congestion is no excuse for rudeness. Beijing’s streets are even more snarled than Shanghai’s, but drivers there are more willing to yield to not just other cars, but pedestrians and non-motorized vehicle users, who in Shanghai are sometimes treated like lower life forms.

At the end of the day, a city’s spirit is characterized less by the number of Lamborghinis zooming on its streets than by the number of drivers that show the mere courtesy of yielding to others.