‘I earn £38k as a train guard, but pocket extra cash catching fare dodgers'

Telegraph

19 hours ago

'The secret life of…' pulls back the curtain on professions you've always wanted to know more about. If you want to anonymously reveal all about your job, email [e-mail].
I came to the railways about three years ago from the hospitality industry, where I worked in pubs and bars. I was, quite frankly, one bad pay cheque away from oblivion, making virtually no money despite working seven days a week.
So joining the rail industry was a no-brainer given the pay, which was definitely the main attraction.
Most people assume I'm a train driver when I tell them I'm a conductor. Others think I'm 'just a ticket inspector'. Both are wrong.
As a train conductor, also called a guard, it's my voice that you'll hear over the tannoy announcing information like route changes or platform gaps at the next station. My job focuses on customer service, operating the doors, and safety, so I'm also there in case of emergencies.
Sure, we also check and issue tickets when we get time between stations. But as a conductor, I have limited power if someone doesn't buy a ticket. I can ask nicely for their name to issue an 'unpaid fare notice', but I can't force them off. Only British Transport Police can do that.
The real power lies with Revenue Protection Inspectors (RPI), who have the authority to issue penalty fares, or a formal caution (meaning the case goes to a magistrate). Sometimes we travel on the same train, and when that's the case, I can call them over to a carriage.
Technically, I could stop the train at the next station if a person refused to cooperate, to await back-up, but that's highly discouraged.
Most guards would admit they get a bit of a thrill from catching people without a ticket. You get a little commission – like 5pc – on each ticket you sell to a customer without one. If you issue a ticket costing £100 from King's Cross to Newcastle, for instance, you'd make £5.
But early commuter trains can actually be the most lucrative because the number of travellers is highest. This one guy I knew told me he used to bag an extra £800 each month doing that.
Personally, if it comes to someone's livelihood, I tend to turn a blind eye. There was an incident the other day when I saw an inspector charging a penalty to this poor lady who was crying. I would have said, 'Don't worry about it'.
Becoming a conductor involves a series of tests, particularly because of all the safety aspects involved in the job. I think I did around 10 to qualify. There's something called the Group Bourdon test, which tests concentration. There's also a ticket-checking test, and a verbal and written communication test.
The annoying thing is you'll have to redo the exams if you switch companies – they aren't transferable. Recruitment also isn't super transparent – you need to know someone to get into an opening, or there needs to be a real shortage.
Pay varies wildly between companies. Some conductors make around £50,000 annually, whereas I'm paid £38,000. The discrepancies come down to historical industrial relations and union negotiations.
I am in a union, and I strike whenever I can. I like the time off. However, when drivers go on strike, all other grades must still come into work.
This means guards will get paid to do nothing, or have very tense shifts with double the number of passengers onboard. We're also less likely to get overtime shifts during industrial disputes with drivers, to cut costs.
What's most confusing is that the train industry has a bewildering array of roles with often minimal differences between them. It's just a huge bureaucracy.
For instance, conductors and train managers can do the same job on different routes, yet train managers earn about £5,000 more than me, as a conductor. Below that, there are onboard supervisors, who are similar but aren't what's called 'safety critical'.
Otherwise, the transition upwards is relatively straightforward and doesn't require too much extra training.
My day starts at the depot, about an hour before my shift. I pick up my 'diagram' – essentially a schedule card showing what route I've been assigned, where I'll be stopping and all that. You might be doing Paddington, Exeter, Bristol, Gloucester, and back to Paddington in a day.
Then, once I've got to the platform and am onboard, I'll close the doors and buzz the driver to depart. The shifts vary considerably, but rarely go beyond 10 hours in practice. Also, you don't have to work on Sundays, but you do get a bonus if you do.
What attracted me to this role, besides the money, is the independence. You're largely left to your own devices, so there's nobody micromanaging you, and we can go about our duties as we deem fit.
One of the other real perks of the job is that occasionally we get 'stand-by' shifts, which means we're not assigned to any trains, but are based at the depot in case of emergencies or service alterations.
Sometimes you can go a whole shift doing nothing but watching Netflix or catching up on sleep. It happens roughly every fortnight now, but when we first came out of Covid restrictions and weren't running a full service, I barely worked a train for a month and a half.
What the public doesn't see is how the railway really operates behind the scenes. We'll have passengers coming up asking, 'Could you make the train go faster?' I just think, 'What do you think my job is?'
The vast majority of passengers, in my experience, are surprisingly pleasant. We do have our notorious repeat fare-dodgers who are known to staff, and the occasional noisy or drunk passenger (especially during Cheltenham). Body cameras are also being increasingly mandated for conductors, supposedly to prevent attacks.
I've yet to experience a physical altercation, but I do see passengers get angry, normally at fairly innocuous stuff like a train changing platform or a last-minute delay.
At Paddington, our staff can be almost surrounded by irate passengers who are verbally abusive and physically threatening. Luckily, we have a consistent British Transport Police presence at most main railway stations.
The biggest downside is the shift work, which plays havoc with your social life. It's one reason I don't see myself doing this for more than another year or two. The weird shift patterns make it difficult to maintain any kind of routine or community.
That's also why I wouldn't want to be a train driver, despite the huge salary. They've made what I consider a fatal calculation that money is more valuable than time. When you're working these disruptive patterns, no amount of money compensates for what the shifts do to your well-being.
As for the state of our railways, the infrastructure is better than in many European countries and certainly in America. The trains themselves are quite nice and new. It's just a shame they're running on such old tracks, and passengers are bearing too much of the cost to update them.
There's no reason for an Edinburgh ticket to cost £200 – the price does not reflect the true value of the service. What is also frustrating is that the taxpayer still pays regardless, as the railways are publicly funded.
About 95pc of the delays you hear about are infrastructure-related, due to decaying systems that desperately need investment.
I feel embarrassed sometimes at the service level – last year, drivers were getting a pay rise, while we were running a terrible service on Sundays. I actually felt a little bit of shame at that point.