Traffic calming: it’s a term that can raise eyebrows before you even start discussing design. I still remember my first community engagement meeting in Hackney, when a local resident stood up and shouted: “These speed humps are going to make our street look like a war zone.”
She had a point. I’ve seen councils install traffic calming measures with the same aesthetic sensibility as a hastily put-up temporary roadworks fence. Grey concrete humps. Obtrusive yellow rumble strips. Speed tables that just blend into the drab tarmac surroundings. And then we wonder why communities fight these measures when they are desperately needed.
The bitter irony is that traffic calming is about neighbourhood improvement: slower traffic, fewer accidents, and more liveable streets. But too often, the infrastructure used to deliver it actively detracts from the street scene. The truth is we traffic engineers have shied away from acknowledging that ugly speed bumps, chicanes and humps are part of the problem. I don’t just mean in community engagement, but in how we, as an industry, have prioritised speed management above all other design considerations. We now need to face up to some uncomfortable facts. Traffic calming can be beautiful. When done well, interventions can be real community assets: local points of pride and place-making opportunities. I’ve seen it, and I want to tell you how.
Let’s be honest: we’ve messed this up. Traditional UK traffic calming has been dominated by a purely functional, engineer-led approach, that has cared little for aesthetics, and often has ended up delivering poorly on functionality too. Speed humps, those rounded mounds of tarmac or concrete have become a symbol of everything residents hate about traffic calming. Unpleasant to drive over, noisy for residents, and visually obtrusive. They announce themselves to drivers with all the subtlety of a “SLOW DOWN” sign in day-glo orange.
Speed bumps, those sharper, more aggressive mounds of tarmac are even worse. They are traffic calming’s blunt instruments, and they look it. I have seen them pop up on residential streets with zero consideration for the street scene. No thought given to materials, integration with the environment, just parked on the road, often accompanied by faded paint markings that give them a perpetually neglected look.
Rumble strips, whilst effective at warning drivers of hazards or speed limit changes, have been traditionally installed with an equally short attention span for aesthetics. Aggressive red or yellow strips, whilst grabbing attention, also create visual clutter, and can make an otherwise pleasant street feel industrialised and hostile.
The problem is this purely utilitarian approach has had real consequences. When traffic calming measures are ugly, communities resist them. I’ve sat through countless council meetings where local residents have fought against desperately needed traffic safety measures because they feared the visual impact. And can we blame them? When the precedent is dull, grey concrete lumps that stain and crack over time, who’d want that outside their house?
Community resistance creates a vicious cycle. Engineers and planners, frustrated by NIMBY-ism, either push through schemes with zero public consultation, which breeds community resentment, or worse, they simply abandon traffic calming altogether, leaving dangerous speeding issues unaddressed. Schemes that do happen get precious little funding for design quality, further perpetuating the feedback loop of ugly, unpopular traffic calming.
The aesthetic revolution
But things are changing, and in the last few years, I’ve been lucky enough to witness and get involved in what I can only describe as an aesthetic revolution in traffic calming. Progressive councils, landscape architects, and traffic engineers are beginning to recognise that traffic calming interventions don’t exist in a vacuum. They’re part of the public realm and should be contributing to it.
The use of materials has been a particular game changer. Coloured concrete and decorative aggregates have allowed us to reimagine speed tables and raised crossings. That dull grey has given way to warm terracottas, soft sandstones, and even rich charcoals that complement the surrounding architecture. I worked on a scheme in Bristol where we specified a honey-coloured resin bound aggregate for speed tables that perfectly matched the local Bath stone architecture. It didn’t just look better, it was more functional too.
Patterned bricks and paving materials have allowed for even more creative possibilities. In conservation areas, where contemporary materials feel wrong, traditional brick paving can create speed tables that flow seamlessly with the historic streetscape. I have seen Victorian-inspired geometric patterns used to create raised crossings that could have been lifted straight from a heritage image. The key has been understanding the local vernacular and working with it, not against it.
Speed tables in particular have become a canvas for creative intervention. Unlike speed humps, those traffic calming speed bumps which are just obstacles in the road, speed tables are flat-topped raised areas that can span the width of an entire junction or crossing point. The design focus is not on creating a physical obstacle for drivers but on creating a feature that frames the crossing and encourages traffic calming.
It allows for a much more holistic design approach. I have seen schemes where speed tables have been turned into artistic gateways to mark the transition between neighbourhood zones. In one Cambridge scheme, the speed table had a compass rose design cut into it using contrasting pavers to subtly reinforce the notion of neighbourhood centre and also slow traffic to 20mph.
Public art integration into traffic calming is perhaps the most exciting recent development. Murals painted on the vertical faces of speed tables, mosaic patterned crossings, and even sculptural elements doubling as bollards or planters, these interventions have the power to transform traffic calming from a necessary evil to a community asset. It gives residents something to be proud of, something to show visitors, something that says “we care about this place”.
An even more particular approach to speed humps and tables is the cobblestone variety, of which I’ve advocated for many years. The natural texture of cobbles provides an inherent traffic calming benefit. Plus, in historic areas or older towns, cobblestones can be a heritage-sensitive solution to speed control. When used in conservation zones, like the older parts of Bath or York, cobblestone speed tables merge seamlessly into the streetscape. The gentle rumble and visual texture of cobbles can naturally encourage drivers to slow down, without the need for overly modern or obtrusive measures. They are only slightly more costly, but the durability and added character they provide to a street are invaluable. I’ve used this method to great effect in situations where modern tarmac would have seemed like a vandalism to the historic surroundings.
Learning from the best: case studies from abroad
My thinking on this was turned on its head when I visited Barcelona’s superblocks. If you aren’t familiar with the concept of superblocks (superilles in Catalan), they are large blocks of city streets where through traffic is restricted, and the streetscape is redesigned with people, not cars in mind. But what impressed me most about the superblocks I visited wasn’t the traffic management schemes, it was the aesthetic ambition of the whole thing.
The Poblenou superblock, which I visited back in 2019, had traffic calming measures that were genuinely beautiful. Speed tables surfaced in warm, terracotta-hued material with geometric patterns that reference traditional Catalan tile work. The rumble strips at junction entrances were not garish yellow paint, but subtle textural shifts in the paving, that created a gentle vibration when driven over. The raised crossings were multi-functional, incorporating seating, planting, and public art. The whole thing felt like a genuine upgrade to the neighbourhood, not an imposition.
What impressed me most was the holistic approach. The traffic calming measures didn’t exist in isolation, they were part of a wider public realm strategy. Trees, street furniture, lighting, and traffic measures all worked together in a coherent aesthetic language. The end result is residents don’t see “traffic calming” when they look at their street, they see a whole improved neighbourhood.
Copenhagen is of course another obvious place to study cutting edge traffic calming and public realm, although I find Danes are masters at making their cycling and pedestrian infrastructure look premium. Their speed tables at cycle path crossings are surfaced in smooth, coloured asphalt that is actually more comfortable to ride over than the standard road surface. It creates a psychological inversion: the drivers feel like they are entering the cyclists’ realm rather than the other way round.
I was particularly struck by a scheme I visited in the Nørrebro district where speed humps had been integrated with rain gardens and bioswales. The traffic calming created opportunities for green infrastructure and the planting softened the visual impact of the raised surfaces. It’s great multi-functional design: traffic calming, storm water management, biodiversity increase, and it looks great.
Across the Atlantic, US cities have also been at the forefront of creative placemaking, something the UK still struggles to truly embrace. Portland’s “Intersection Repair” programme allows residents to paint their own murals and patterns directly onto the surface of intersections, turning them into community art projects. These painted intersections serve a traffic calming function too, drivers slow down when they are confronted with unexpected visual complexity, but they also create a sense of neighbourhood identity.
Seattle has taken this even further with their “Green Streets” programme, which integrates traffic calming with extensive landscaping. Speed tables become planted terraces, kerb extensions include rain gardens, the traffic calming infrastructure is the framework for greening the neighbourhood. I have borrowed from these schemes for UK projects, adapting them to our context and regulations.
Making It Happen: The Collaborative Process
Creating aesthetically ambitious traffic calming begins with a fundamentally different approach to how these schemes are delivered. From my experience, the most successful are not just designed in a vacuum by a traffic engineer but are the product of genuine collaboration between traffic engineers, landscape architects, artists, and the communities they serve. This can be uncomfortable. Different professions have different priorities, different professional languages, and different instincts. But when it works, it can work very well.
The process usually starts with traffic engineers identifying sites where calming is required and the technical parameters that need to be met. What speed needs to be achieved? What vehicle types need to be accommodated? What are the sight line requirements? It’s important to stress that this engineering and traffic assessment is critical—it’s not an artistic endeavour that can be taken lightly. But it is only a starting point.
Once the need for traffic calming is established, the next step is to consider how it can be integrated into the surrounding environment. Landscape architects can play a key role here, thinking about how the traffic calming can complement and enhance the streetscape. They may consider materials, patterns, planting opportunities, or how the intervention relates to adjacent buildings or spaces. Landscape architects can help design schemes that traffic engineers might not initially consider: How does this traffic calming look when you’re sitting on a first-floor window? What happens to this material in winter? How will it age over 20 years?
Artists are the next key collaborator, bringing a unique perspective on how traffic calming can reflect community identity and values. Artists think about storytelling and symbolism, adding layers of meaning that can resonate with residents. I worked on a scheme in Manchester where an artist proposed embedding fragments of text from local poets into the paving pattern of a speed table. It was a surprising addition, a little tricky to engineer, but ultimately created something special that the community loved.
The challenges here are real. Artists will often come up with ideas that are technically impossible or too expensive to be viable. Engineers can be conservative, often wanting to apply a standard template solution. Landscape architects might prioritise aesthetics over maintenance practicality. And of course, the team has to work within the constraints of highway regs, which weren’t written with artistic ambition in mind.
Budget is the elephant in the room. Aesthetic quality has a cost—not necessarily a vast one, but more than the cheapest possible option. A standard concrete speed hump might cost £2,000 to install. A beautifully designed speed table with high-quality materials and integrated planting could cost £15,000. That’s a big jump that requires a different mindset from councils around value and return on investment.
But here’s what I have learned: it’s almost always worth it. A well-designed scheme generates community support that can reduce opposition and speed up delivery. It creates local pride and ownership that reduces vandalism and increases maintenance reporting. And it contributes to broader place-making objectives that can increase property values and economic activity. The ROI isn’t just in improved traffic safety—it’s in community wellbeing and urban quality.
Community Buy-in and Pride
The change in community attitudes when traffic calming is done well is nothing short of remarkable. I have seen it over and over again: schemes that would have been met with fierce local opposition in their standard-engineered form become local sources of pride and community identity when designed with an aesthetic ambition.
I worked on a scheme in South London where we replaced standard speed humps with brick-paved speed tables that featured a wave pattern referencing the nearby Thames. The design was developed with residents through a series of workshops where they contributed ideas and opinions about local identity and character. When the scheme was installed, the response was overwhelmingly positive. Residents posted photos on social media. The local paper ran a positive story. People who had vocally opposed traffic calming in the area became its advocates.
This isn’t about making things pretty, it’s about respect. When councils are willing to invest in quality design, it signals to residents that they value that neighbourhood and its residents. It shows that traffic calming is being done not just to or for the community, but with it. The psychological shift is profound.
Good design also creates local identity and distinctiveness. In a world of increasing homogenisation, where every high street has the same chain stores and every new development looks identical, distinctive traffic calming can become a marker of place. “Meet me at the compass crossing” or “turn left at the mosaic speed table”—these features become wayfinding landmarks and neighbourhood symbols.
I’ve also observed that aesthetic traffic calming changes behaviour in ways that go beyond the immediate traffic calming objective. When streets look cared for and valued, people treat them better. Littering decreases. Walking increases. Social interaction improves. It’s the “broken windows” theory in reverse—visible investment and quality design create a positive feedback loop of community care.
Professional Observations: The Technical Reality
Allow me to share some hard-won professional insights about what actually works and what doesn’t. On materials—this matters enormously, and not all attractive options are practical. I have seen beautiful natural stone speed tables that looked stunning when installed but became dangerously slippery when wet. I have seen intricate mosaic patterns that were impossible to maintain when individual tiles came loose.
The most successful materials I have seen are resin-bound aggregates, high-quality concrete pavers, and engineering brick. Resin-bound surfaces can achieve almost any colour but maintain excellent skid resistance and durability. Concrete pavers offer versatility in pattern and colour but are also relatively easy to lift and relay for utility access. Engineering brick is more expensive but provides unmatched longevity and can create beautiful traditional patterns.
Maintenance is the unglamorous reality that must inform design decisions. Speed tables take a hammering from traffic, and they need to remain safe and attractive for decades. That means avoiding materials that stain easily, patterns that become unclear when partially damaged, or designs that require specialist skills to repair. A question I always ask: Can the council’s standard maintenance crew fix this in five years’ time?
Cost-effectiveness means thinking beyond initial installation. A cheap speed hump that needs replacing every eight years is ultimately more expensive than a quality speed table that lasts twenty-five years. The aesthetic premium often pays for itself through longevity alone, before even considering the softer benefits of community acceptance and pride.
A technical insight that surprises people: well-designed speed tables are often more comfortable to drive over than traditional speed humps. The gradual ramps and flat top create a smoother transition for vehicles, which can reduce noise and vibration for nearby residents. This means that aesthetic ambition and resident comfort can align—we don’t have to choose between beauty and liveability.
Rumble strips deserve special mention because they are so often done badly. The standard approach: bright yellow or red paint with aggressive texture, is visually jarring and in most cases unnecessary. I have had success with more subtle approaches: textured paving in a colour that is sympathetic to the streetscape, or rumble strips created via changes in paving pattern rather than colour. They are just as effective at alerting drivers but far less visually aggressive.
The Path Forward: Prioritising Aesthetic Design
So where does this leave us? I think we’re at a pivotal moment for traffic calming in the UK. We have the technical knowledge, the materials, and the international case studies to know that aesthetic quality is possible. What we need now is the will to prioritise it.
This starts with changing how we procure and fund traffic calming schemes. The vast majority are currently delivered through highway maintenance budgets with minimal design input. We need to start thinking about traffic calming as a public realm improvement with appropriate design resources and budgets attached. That doesn’t mean every speed hump needs to be a work of art, but it does mean that aesthetic quality should be a standard consideration, not an optional extra.
Planning policy has a role to play. New developments should be required to integrate traffic calming from the outset with high-quality design. Too often, I see new housing estates where traffic calming is an afterthought, resulting in the same old grey humps we are trying to move beyond. Design codes and pattern books should include exemplary traffic calming as a standard element of street design.
Professional education needs to evolve. Traffic engineers should be trained to think about aesthetics and place-making, not just vehicle speeds and sight lines. Landscape architects should understand traffic engineering principles. We need to break down professional silos that have led to decades of purely utilitarian infrastructure.
Community engagement must be genuine and early. The best schemes I have been involved with had residents from the very earliest concept stage, not just the point of objecting to a finalised design. When communities help shape traffic calming, they own it. They become advocates rather than opponents.
I am convinced that the future of traffic calming in the UK is aesthetic. Not because we’re all becoming frivolous and prioritising appearance over function, but because we’re finally waking up to the reality that these interventions are permanent additions to our public realm. They shape how our streets look and feel. They influence how communities perceive their neighbourhoods. They are too important to be ugly.
The evidence is clear: well-designed traffic calming works better, lasts longer, costs less over its lifetime, and generates community support. It transforms necessary safety interventions into community assets. It makes our streets not just safer but better—more beautiful, more distinctive, more loved.
We have the knowledge and the tools. Now we need the ambition and the commitment to make aesthetic quality the standard, not the exception. Our communities deserve streets that are both safe and beautiful. It’s time we delivered both.