I run toll highways for the hour when something goes wrong, not for the average day the traffic report describes.
In August 1999, three weeks after the monsoon arrived, I stood on a state highway in Haryana and watched water pond against an embankment I had helped build. The culvert beneath it was sound and placed where the drawing said. The field drains around it had been changed by farmers after the survey, and nobody had walked the catchment again. I was a graduate site engineer with Doabkhand Road Builders, a year out of Doabgarh Institute of Engineering and Technology. My supervisor sent me back with a measuring tape and a village map, and I learnt that a road is a negotiation with water, traffic and neighbours that the drawing only begins.
A highway is judged in its worst hour: a crash after midnight, a culvert overtopping in August, a queue on a festival weekend. Toll users pay for that hour as well as the quiet ones. I would rather explain an expensive repair or a lower distribution to directors than explain why we chose the cheaper risk on a road people cannot avoid.