For two years, he has defied Italian authorities without ever leaving a trace. No arrest, no identity, not even a clearly identifiable figure. Just a nickname, which went viral: Fleximan. The man, or rather the group, with the angle grinder is back. And he's striking again.
This week, two more speed cameras were neatly cut down near Turin, on a stretch of road with a 70 km/h speed limit where the devices had been in operation since 2023. A clean, swift, nighttime operation. Typical pattern. The provisional tally: at least fifteen speed cameras destroyed since the start of this strange road war.
Italy doesn't just have a problem with speeding. It has a problem with its speed cameras. With more than 10 000 With its installed devices, the country holds the European record for radar density per kilometer. The most troubling thing? Barely 1 000 would actually be approved. The rest floats in an administrative grey area that fuels suspicion, anger and weariness.
In some municipalities, the radar are no longer perceived as security tools, but as municipal cash cows. fines They generate billions of euros annually, becoming a structural budgetary resource for many small towns. It is precisely within this divide that Fleximan was born.
Fleximan is not a hero. He is a symptom.
Contrary to the romantic image of the lone vigilante, Fleximan It's more like an idea in motion. A collective, anonymous, almost militant action, born from widespread frustration.
This is not just about speed or road safety. It is about a breakdown of trust between citizens and institutions.
The paradox is stark: on the recently targeted stretch of road, local authorities claim that accidents had decreased since the installation of the speed cameras. The mayor, whose municipality directly manages these devices, was categorical: Anarchy cannot prevail. The speed cameras will be reinstalled. »
From an institutional point of view, he is right. The state cannot tolerate the destruction of public infrastructure with impunity. But the problem lies elsewhere.
Fleximan doesn't exist because Italians enjoy breaking the law. It exists because the line between prevention and taxation has become blurred. Too many speed cameras, too poorly explained, too often perceived as abusive. The result: a wild, illegal, but revealing protest.
And that is precisely the danger for the Italian state: as long as no one is arrested, as long as the root causes are not addressed, Fleximan will survive. Under this name or another. With an angle grinder or otherwise.
Because when a public policy loses its social legitimacy, it always ends up being attacked, symbolically or physically. Fleximan is not the solution. But it is the warning signal that no one wants to hear anymore.
