Quest for a queue

The launch of the Oyster card promises to herald in a new age of a queueless Britain. The smartcard, which can be used on Tube, bus, Tramlink, DLR and national rail services in London, speeds up movement on to buses and through Tube turnstiles with an electronic reader. It can also be topped up online and over the phone, meaning no more Monday morning snakes in the ticket hall.

But surely a UK without queues is like France without baguettes?

In How To Be An Alien, George Mikes writes that 'an Englishman, even if he is alone, forms an orderly queue of one'. Like the stiff upper lip, patiently waiting in line has become a cherished expression of our national culture.

The queue even defines some of the most quintessentially British institutions - the Proms, Madame Tussaud's or Wimbledon.

Some believe that the queue as an emblem of Britishness emerged after World War II, when it was officially promoted as a way of ensuring fair shares of scant foods.

It may even have started as the result of a by-law: under the 1937 London Passenger Transport Act, queueing became obligatory at the risk of a £2 fine. It has become something we take pride in - a display of our fairness in contrast to the vulgar pushing and shoving of other cultures.

But, apparently, we're losing our patience. Not only was the by-law repealed in 1995, but research published earlier this year has questioned whether the queue is typically British.

Prof David Stewart-David of Northumbria University spent the equivalent of 92 days in 2,000 queues. He said: 'We are changing in our attitude to queues. The whole idea of fast customer service is taking over.'

According to his research, the emergence of consumerism means that we've become a nation of queue-haters. Apparently, our tolerance level for buying a ticket is just three or four minutes, at which point 'people begin to look stressed or choose to walk off'.

A faster pace of life, higher expectations and a growing intolerance at being kept waiting all contribute to our rejection of a national stereotype. But not all people are so willing to let it go.

Professor David Stewart-David points out that different social groups behave differently in queues - and some older people actually enjoy queueing. They find waiting in line a social experience, allowing them to meet friends.

And, indeed, queueing may help ensure the survival of the species.

Evolutionary psychologists suggest that we may be genetically programmed to form orderly lines - with those who copy the behaviour of others tending to live longer.

So, although the queue could be about to disappear from London's Tube stations, it may be vital for the human race that somewhere, somehow, a queue can be formed.

Commuters with a propensity for waiting in line need not worry: the answer has arrived from across the Atlantic. If a recent phenomenon is anything to go by, we can all wait for Godot.

The flash mob - first formed in a New York department store in June - is a group of people who simultaneously converge in public places and then disperse after a brief period.

The trend took off over summer, spreading across Europe and reaching our shores in August.

But it's a little passe, and far too disorderly for us Brits. Instead, we can rise up and launch the UK's answer to the flash mob - the flash queue.

Why queue in isolation, at down-at-heel spots such as shabby high streets, when you can wait in the company of friends, without the fear that the line will move and cut short your conversation?

With Transport for London and Transis doing their best to speed up commutes, let the workers unite and create their own pointless queues in the comfort of their own homes, gardens or post offices. Samuel Beckett will never have had so many fans.