Is Data a Public Utility?

Should transport data be treated and valued as a public utility rather than being siloed in commercial servers?

8th July 2026 - Alistair Gollop for ITS Now

The idea that transport data should be treated as a public utility, sounds at first, like a neat provocation for a conference panel. Yet once you sit with it for a moment, it becomes something far more unsettling. Water, electricity, gas, broadband. These are the quiet foundations of modern life, the services we assume will be there when we need them, regulated, protected, and delivered with a degree of public oversight. Mobility data, by contrast, is the unruly teenager of the infrastructure world. It is everywhere, growing fast, often misunderstood, and almost entirely unregulated in any meaningful sense. The question is whether it should remain that way.

Transport has always been a system built on shared resources. Roads, rails, pavements, ports, airspace. These are public goods, even when privately operated. They exist to enable movement, commerce, connection, and opportunity. Yet the intelligence that now orchestrates these systems sits largely outside the public realm. Every journey generates data. Every sensor, ticketing system, traffic camera, bike share dock, bus, tram, and freight vehicle produces a stream of information that shapes how the wider network behaves. This data is now as essential to mobility as the asphalt itself. Without it, cities cannot plan, operators cannot optimise, and travellers cannot navigate. It is the lifeblood of modern transport, yet it is treated as a commodity rather than a utility.

The argument for elevating transport data to the status of a public utility begins with a simple observation. Mobility is a public necessity. If data is now the mechanism through which mobility is managed, then data itself becomes a public necessity. When a city cannot access the information it needs to run its transport system effectively, the consequences are not abstract. They are felt in missed buses, congested roads, unreliable services, inefficient freight movements, and poor air quality. The public pays the price for private data silos.

Consider the way electricity is handled. Power companies do not get to decide who receives power based on commercial preference. They operate within a regulated framework that ensures fairness, access, and resilience. If mobility data were treated similarly, cities could rely on consistent standards, guaranteed access, and transparent governance. Operators would still innovate, but the core data required to run a safe, efficient, equitable transport system would be available to all who need it. The public interest would be protected.

There is also a democratic argument. Transport data shapes policy. It influences investment decisions, determines where new services are deployed, and reveals who is being served and who is being left behind. When this data is locked away, the public cannot scrutinise the choices being made on their behalf. Treating mobility data as a utility would not only improve transport outcomes but strengthen accountability. It would allow citizens, researchers, journalists, and advocacy groups to interrogate the system with the same clarity they apply to budgets, legislation, and environmental performance.

Yet the counterargument is equally provocative. Data is not water. It is not electricity. It is not a finite resource that flows through pipes or wires. It is a complex, dynamic, context-dependent asset that gains meaning only when interpreted correctly. To declare it a public utility risks flattening its nuance. It also risks stifling innovation. Many of the most transformative mobility services of the past decade emerged precisely because private companies were free to experiment with data in ways that public bodies could not. If every dataset becomes subject to utility-style regulation, do we slow the pace of progress?

There is also the question of ownership. Much transport data is generated by private systems. Ride-hailing trips, e-scooter journeys, logistics movements, telematics feeds. These are not public assets in the traditional sense. They are the by-products of commercial activity. To require their release as a public utility raises difficult questions about intellectual property, competitive advantage, and commercial risk. Some operators already argue that mandatory data sharing exposes them to unfair scrutiny or enables rivals to reverse-engineer their business models. The tension between public value and private interest is not easily resolved.

Privacy sits at the heart of the debate. Water and electricity do not reveal personal behaviour. Transport data does. Even when anonymised, mobility patterns can expose sensitive information about individuals and communities. Treating transport data as a utility would require a regulatory framework far more sophisticated than anything used for traditional public services. It would demand strict safeguards, independent oversight, and a cultural shift in how organisations handle information. The risk of misuse is real, and the consequences are profound.

Perhaps the most compelling argument against the utility model is that transport data is not a single thing. It is a constellation of datasets, each with its own purpose, structure, and sensitivity. Traffic flow data is not the same as ticketing data. Freight routing information is not the same as pedestrian movement patterns. To declare all of it a public utility is to ignore the diversity of the ecosystem. A more nuanced approach may be needed, one that distinguishes between data essential for public governance and data that remains legitimately commercial.

Yet even with these caveats, the idea refuses to go away. Cities are increasingly dependent on data they do not control. Public bodies are expected to deliver seamless, multimodal, real-time mobility experiences without access to the full picture. Operators benefit from public infrastructure while withholding the information needed to manage it effectively. The imbalance is becoming untenable. If mobility is a public good, then the intelligence that governs it must also serve the public good.

The future may lie in a hybrid model. Core transport datasets could be designated as public utilities, governed by clear standards and guaranteed access. Surrounding them, a wider ecosystem of commercial data could continue to flourish, protected by privacy rules and competitive safeguards. This would preserve innovation while ensuring that the essential intelligence required to run a modern transport system is never held hostage by private interests.

The question, then, is not whether transport data should be a public utility in the strict sense. It is whether we can continue to treat it as anything less. Mobility is becoming more digital, more interdependent, and more reliant on information. The pipes and wires of the twentieth century have been replaced by APIs and data feeds. If we believe that transport is a public right, then the data that shapes it cannot remain a private privilege.

The provocation is simple. If mobility data is now the infrastructure that makes movement possible, why are we still pretending it is optional?