The whir of motors and the flash of sensors have become a familiar sight on our pavements. Delivery robots, the latest symbol of tech-driven convenience, are rolling out across British cities. But as their numbers grow, so does a chorus of concern from pedestrians, local councils, and disability rights groups who say the streets are being treated as an unregulated testing ground.
In Manchester, a pensioner was knocked over by a robot on a busy pavement last month. In Leeds, a mother with a pram described a near-miss as a machine swerved around a lamppost. These are not isolated incidents. According to data from Transport for London, there were 43 reported collisions involving delivery robots in the capital in the past year, a figure that is likely an undercount. Yet no national framework exists to govern their use. Councils are left to improvise, and pedestrians are left vulnerable.
“We are in a Wild West situation,” said Councillor Janice Morrow of Sheffield City Council. “These robots are being deployed without any real thought for how they interact with people, especially those with mobility issues. We’ve had reports of them blocking dropped kerbs and confusing guide dogs.”
At the heart of the issue is a regulatory gap. The Automated Vehicles Act, passed last year, sets rules for self-driving cars on roads. But delivery robots, which trundle along pavements at walking speed, fall into a legal void. They are not classified as vehicles, so they are not subject to MOTs, road tax, or driver licensing. And they are not toys, so they escape safety standards for children’s products. They exist in a grey area that companies have been only too happy to exploit.
The robots themselves are the product of innovation. Companies like Starship Technologies, which operates in Milton Keynes and Northampton, argue that they reduce traffic congestion and carbon emissions. Each bot can carry up to 10 kilograms of groceries within a two-mile radius, replacing dozens of car journeys. They are also cheaper for businesses, which pass some savings on to consumers. In a cost-of-living crisis, that matters.
But at what cost to the public realm? Our pavements are already crowded with buggies, wheelchairs, and bins. Adding a fleet of unthinking machines is a recipe for conflict. And unlike human couriers, these robots cannot adapt to unexpected situations. They follow pre-programmed routes and rely on sensors that struggle with potholes, construction work, or simply a person who does not move out of the way.
“The onus should not be on the pedestrian to get out of the way,” said Sarah James, a campaigner for Living Streets. “These are private companies using public space for profit. They should be subject to the same rules as any other street furniture.”
Some local authorities have tried to take matters into their own hands. In Camden, the council has introduced a voluntary code of conduct for robot operators, requiring them to avoid busy periods and keep clear of crossings. But without national legislation, such measures are toothless. Companies can ignore them.
Let us be clear: innovation is not the enemy. But it must not come at the expense of safety and accessibility. The government should step in now, before a serious accident forces their hand. We need a clear classification for delivery robots, a licensing system that holds operators accountable, and enforceable rules about where and when they can operate. Pavements are for people. That must come first.
Until then, the robots will keep rolling. And the rest of us will keep dodging.
