ANYONE for whom the phrase 'boy racer' induces a laddish smirk and a sense of youthful superiority should log on to the memorial site set up for Luke Shearman, 16, by his sister Leah Jo. Shearman was one of three people killed when a group of cocksure, immature car-lovers decided to use the A75 west of Dumfries as a racetrack, reaching speeds of 90mph.
Of the three drivers (all Shearman's friends), one had just regained his licence after a year-long drink-driving ban, while another had passed his test 24 hours earlier.
As Stuart Logue, 19, Graham Lynn, 21, and Shaun Marshall, 18, all from Dumfri
es, pled guilty to driving charges last week, temporary judge Rita Rae echoed the exasperation of many, asking: "When are young men going to realise that motor vehicles are not toys, but potentially lethal weapons?" But it is in Leah Jo's tributes to her brother, posted on the gonetoosoon.co.uk website, that the impact of that failure is most savagely articulated.
The notes she has posted in the 15 months since Shearman's death are saturated with a sense of loss. Whether remembering the everyday moments that defined his life (the way he teased his dog Keira for example) or railing against the fact he never got to experience that "just-turned-18 let's party stage", the crater Shearman's death has gouged in her life is all too apparent.
Not that Leah Jo's grief is in any way unique. This crash alone left 16-year-old Mark Johnston's father Cyril mourning the death of a second son in a road traffic accident in a year, and 21-year-old Bethany Secker's parents facing a future without their popular physiotherapist daughter. And it was just one of dozens every year in which silly young lads showing off to their friends kill themselves and their passengers.
Last week – quite rightly, given events in Bridgend – much attention was given to the number of young people who commit suicide, but the single biggest killer of 15 to 24-year-olds in the UK isn't depression. It isn't even drugs. It is road accidents.
According to one insurance company, one in three male drivers will write off a car in the first year of driving, while one quarter of all convictions for causing death by dangerous driving involves under-twenties (although they make up just 3% of licence-holders). In 2007, a third of those killed in road accidents were under 25.
In the wake of last week's court hearing, The Sun asked: "Still Fancy Playing At Boy Racers?" But the sad fact is that highly publicised crashes such as this one do little to put arrogant lads off speeding. It is in the nature of the young to think they are in control; that they are invincible; that they will beat the odds. I say this not in a vague, metaphorical sort of way, but in a specific scientific one. Neurological studies have shown that the frontal lobe region of the brain does not fully develop until 25, making younger drivers less able to predict future consequences or control their responses.
It doesn't help that so many older drivers retain a sneaking nostalgia for the days they shouted "Eat my dust" as they hurtled along B-roads (or harbour regrets that they never had a chance to). Don't get me started on Top Gear – a programme which exists for the sole purpose of glamorising fast cars and irresponsibility (with a hefty dollop of misogyny thrown in for good measure). Jeremy Clarkson may be scathing about those who criticise the show on the grounds that everything it does is tongue in cheek, but you only have to look at its cult status amongst the young to see the attitudes it endorses are being absorbed and regurgitated.
Take the Bebo site of Marky Mark – a self-confessed boy racer, also from Dumfries, who says he is happiest when "cruising the roads or 'smoking' some unfortunate motorist, usually a woman or hopefully a taxi driver!" Admittedly, what he actually drives is an old Fiat Punto, but he aspires to something fast and sporty and has stills from Top Gear of his favourite models for visitors to ogle.
And what about magazines such as Fast Cars and Max Power? Once Max Power so glamorised speed and irresponsibility – running a feature which showed balaclava-clad readers vandalising speed cameras – that the insurance firm Esure called for it to be banned for the under-25s. Since its 2007 relaunch, it has thrown off its macho 'boy racer' image, concentrating instead on its readers' passion for modified, customised and performance cars. But what is the point of souping up your car if not to enable you to drive it faster?
There are, of course, initiatives the Government could try to improve the situation. It is already looking at forcing learners to spend at least a year with L plates, effectively raising the age limit to 18, and introducing a logbook system which requires learners to have a minimum number of structured driving lessons.
In the meantime, road safety ads in the UK continue to remind young drivers of what's at stake if they behave recklessly behind the wheel. Just the other day, I heard a radio ad in which two lads could be heard describing a third's driving as brilliant, awesome, "legend" – before revealing he really is a "legend", as he has died in a pile-up.
Since boy racers have shown themselves to be blasé about the prospect of death, however, I prefer the ego-deflating approach taken in Australia. There, a controversial film jettisoned the usual shots of carnage in favour of a succession of attractive young women who showed what they thought of boy racers by holding up their pinkies.
I can see how this might be effective. In the testosterone-fuelled world of boy racers, it makes sense to hit them where it hurts.
