One of the most entertaining updates is the guidance on “driving too slowly.” The Code says it’s okay to be slow, but not dangerously slow. So if your granddad is doing 28 mph on a 60 mph road, that’s technically legal—but you will get a line of cars behind you that looks like a funeral procession for a snail. The joke? The Code recommends pulling over to let traffic pass. But in reality, most older drivers treat pulling over like a hostage negotiation. They’ll only do it if you’re flashing your headlights and waving a copy of The Daily Mail out the window.
Recorded webinar on the new Highway Code changes and useful road safety
And then there’s the “reverse parking” rule. The Code begs older drivers to reverse into parking spaces—to improve visibility when leaving. But let’s be honest: any driver over 75 who successfully reverse-parks on a first attempt is either a former rally champion or a wizard. The rest of them just park diagonally and hope for the best. I once saw a woman in a Ford Fiesta spend ten minutes reverse-parking into a space the size of an aircraft carrier. She eventually gave up and parked in the spot next to it—the exact same spot, again, diagonally. It was beautiful.
The "No, I'm Fine, I've Done This Before" Factor
Finally, the Code cleverly addresses the elephant in the room: the fact that no older driver will ever admit they’re a bad driver. The guidelines now “encourage family members to have a gentle conversation.” Oh, the gentle conversation. That’s when your 85-year-old aunt tells you she “just closed her eyes for a second” on the A3 and then claims it was a “micro-nap.” The Code suggests you offer to drive them. But we all know how that ends: they say, “No, no, I’m fine. I’ve done this before. I don’t need a baby monitor for my car.” And then you spend the next ten years wondering if they’ve accidentally driven into a lake.
So, the moral of the story? The Highway Code’s elderly driving rules are a masterpiece of polite British understatement. They tell Gladys to “consider avoiding” things, Bert to “review his medication,” and everyone to drive “slightly less like a startled badger.” It’s not a ban—it’s a suggestion. But for the love of pavements, if you see a Honda Jazz moving at the speed of continental drift, just smile, be patient, and remember: they’re probably on their way to get free biscuits at the chemist. And we all deserve a biscuit.
