I saw a car crash today. I was following a car along an urban motorway, that part of the A57 that is called The Mancunian Way, in Manchester. I could see him flip his brake lights a few times, obviously undecided about which exit to take. There was an off-ramp on his immediate left and he appeared to decide not to take it. Then he changed his mind, slammed on his brakes, skidded a little and burned rubber, swung the wheel over hard and tried to make the exit. He didn't make it. The car slammed into the light bollard and was sent right up over the crash barrier. It was suspended in space, above a small grassy knoll.



I saw all this happen in a split-second. I also saw that I couldn't stop, as there were people close behind me. I swung out, passed the crashed car and carried on down to my own exit, some distance on. I clearly saw that if I had tried to stop, I could have caused an accident. I also saw other people, behind and with more space, pull in, go to the man's aid and summon the emergency services.

What did I learn from this experience? That every day you can see the best and worst of human behaviour. The worst, resulted in the car crash. No doubt it will be written up as 'an accident', but it was nothing like that. It was all about not being prepared, not knowing your way round the town maybe, but also not bothering to check the map before you set out. Then, when an option came up, not reacting decisively, but hesitating, dithering, and making the worst of all choices. Make the exit? Carry on to the next exit? Neither. Don't do either choice, just smack into the crash barrier and ruin your car. It's like life, isn't it? Choose this road, or the other? Neither. Just write your car off. If I tell my children anything, it will be to always look at the road atlas before setting out, so you know which turning you need to look out for. If it says 'A34' on the sign, you need to know if that's relevant to you, or not. Also, once you see a choice, make it. Don't dither, or fail to decide. What's the worst that can happen if you do? You miss your exist, maybe, have to carry on to the next one and turn around. Big deal. You're still alive and you've still got a functioning vehicle. Ditto if you take the exit and it's the wrong one. You may have to carry on, find a new turning and get back on the road. Big deal. You're not damaged, you don't need repairs and you're still mobile. That's the important thing.

That was the worst, but there was also the best present. The people who stopped, the ones who were concerned enough to go to the victim's aid, summoning help and seeing what they could do. How often that happens, and thank the heavens that it does. The unsung heroes, whose first natural instinct is to help. That shows something, doesn't it? Some of us are truly selfish, uncaring, arrogant and stupid, and demonstrate behaviour that falls far short of the best. Others aren't. Those people, well, they aren't much different to you and me, they have two arms and two legs and one brain. They just make a different choice. To be the best. To demonstrate what human beings are capable of, in the field of caring and unselfishness. It's always a choice.

My journey didn't stop there. I was on the way to a tyre centre to get a puncture repaired. I made it safely and drove my car in. Then another strange thing happened. There were six young men standing around in overalls. Not one of them would come to my assistance, and one had to be ordered to attend to me. He did it with good grace, admittedly, but when a moment later a young lady in a red sports car drove into the building, all remaining five young men leapt into action. Their choice? 'Human nature'? Maybe my charms don't impact on these youngsters like hers obviously did. But I wasn't expecting to be popular. All I wanted was the service of a tyre engineer. I thought that was their job. Maybe not. Maybe they go to work for other reasons.

My learning didn't stop there. Once my tyre was repaired and replaced, I nervously reversed my car, turned and went to exit the building. My way was blocked by a big white van. I didn't panic. My own car required a tyre to be ordered, and it had had to be delivered. Maybe this van was delivering more tyres, I reasoned. I waited patiently, but it didn't move. Then, another strange thing happened. The passenger door opened and someone got out. A young lady in a red dress, the same one who owned the sports car. She said a few more words to the driver of the van, then went back to her car ' being attended to by five young willing workers ' and took two bottles of wine out of the back seat. She then walked languidly back to the van and handed the bottles to the driver. They talked for a bit more and she walked off. He looked around, thought about his position for a while, and eventually made a decision to move his van back out of the way and into a parking space.

Well, it's a minor little story, and we know that every road in Britain is plagued by the selfish driving of white van drivers, but why, oh why, would that particular driver think it was his right to park his van across a busy entrance in the first place, then deem it still worthy to carry on his conversation when he could plainly see that someone was trying to get past him? What business could he possibly have been conducting that was so important that every other car owner would have to wait for him to finish what he was doing, then make room for them to pass? Who the hell did he think he is? Unfortunately, that's often the way. Most of us seem too preoccupied with our mundane trials and tribulations to ever spare a thought for other people and their needs. It's one of the worst aspects of human nature. Or maybe it's a choice. Every day, every hour, every action you take is a choice ' between the best and the worst of human nature. Even in the small things, the everyday little actions, the slights, the snipes, the cruel words, the insults, the offhand remarks, we have a choice about who we are and who we intend to be. Are you a car driver too? Then maybe you need to think about this.