Seven years ago, when HS2 was still officially costed at £33 billion, I wrote that I was looking forward to using my pensioner’s rail pass on it ‘early in the reign of hugely popular, three-times-married King Harry, in whose favour his elder brother will abdicate after his 50th birthday’. Now HS2’s upper cost estimate has reached £106 billionand the northern spur of the track may not reach Leeds until 2040, when my pass and I will surely have expired. There’s still a possibility all this will happen — high-speed rail and Harry’s coronation, that is — but both look less likely by the day. And after a decade of defending HS2 against all-comers, I fear I must review my position.
On the one hand, I believe, as Boris apparently does, in the economic and morale-boosting value of grands projets. On the other, I’m influenced by failure at Crossrail and stalemate at Heathrow into thinking that we’ve become hopelessly incompetent at making them happen — on budget, on deadline, or at all.
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