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1 / 2Turning the tide in Stockholm
In just a few short decades during the mid-twentieth century, cars conquered the 750-year-old city of Stockholm. As early as the 1980s, various schemes for reclaiming the city's fourteen islands from gridlock had been proposed, but politics kept getting in the way and plans never materialized. In 2002, as part of political compromise, a divided Swedish parliament began to work toward a long-desired goal: a trial run of congestion pricing in Stockholm, with a public referendum on the policy to follow.
On Jan. 3, 2006, the trial began. Watching it unfold, Jonas Eliasson, a life-long transit researcher (and enthusiast) who has served as director of transport accessibility at the Swedish Transport Administration since 2019, was excited — and worried. Neither emotion was unwarranted.
Congestion pricing had succeeded before. In 1975, Singapore pioneered its Area Licensing Scheme, a precursor to its modern Electronic Road Pricing system in which drivers are tolled automatically based on their location, type of car, and the time of day. In 2003, London began charging drivers for entering its city-center — an idea first proposed in the 1950s. By 2006, there were 33 percent fewer car trips into central London than in 2002, 25 percent more bus trips and 49 percent more bicycle trips. Congestion, pollution and traffic accidents all fell in tow.
Eliasson was aware of these benefits, but he still feared that politics would squash Stockholm's program before its results were realized. The trial (whose start-day had been delayed by, again, politics) was slated to last just seven months. "Having a congestion pricing trial meant building up all the technical stuff in the business district, the gantries and the cameras and everything, and just for a trial," says Eliasson. "I thought that in order to make congestion pricing acceptable, we would have to spend the revenues in a really salient, tangible way. And at the time, we didn't have that."
Eliasson was wrong, and happily so. Despite negative media coverage and public suspicion, the tide of approval turned on congestion pricing in Stockholm almost as soon as it was implemented. "I think that what surprised everyone was that the effects on traffic were just so visible. From day one, you could see the benefits with your naked eye," says Eliasson.
Road traffic into Stockholm's central district fell by 20 percent almost as soon as the program began, as drivers swapped their individual trips for carpooling and alternative means of transit. The streets grew quieter, and air pollution decreased by 12 percent — all from a maximum charge equivalent to just $2. In September of 2006, congestion pricing was made permanent by a majority vote, and by 2011, the policy saw nearly 70 percent public support.
"Almost immediately, the debate changed from 'Will it work?' to 'Okay, now, we know that it does work. Can we tweak it in some way? Should we have higher charges or lower charges? What should we spend the revenues on?'" says Elisson.
Even as Stockholm grew to love congestion pricing, cars didn't disappear altogether from the city center. But congestion pricing doesn't have to get every car off of the road in order to work. "A congestion pricing scheme is not trying to get most people to change their behavior. It's trying to get some people to change their behavior," says Lewis Lehe, assistant professor of transportation systems at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign.
Traffic, Lehe explains, is a non-linear phenomenon: A road operating at 70 percent capacity will operate just as well at 95 percent capacity. Exceeding the road's capacity, even by just a handful of vehicles, can grind a road system to a halt. "A small reduction in traffic flow can have a surprisingly large effect," says Lehe.









