Britain's debate on social mobility is stuck. It's time for a city perspective

Manchester is the heart of the Northern Powerhouse – but it retains areas of intense deprivation. Image: Getty.

Social mobility plays a curious and sometimes tortuous role in our national political psyche.  We love talking about it, even if we can’t, or won’t, do much about it.

Greater mobility is a goal lionised by all politicians – along with the NHS it’s perhaps the closest thing to a secular faith that you will find at Westminster.  Our media lap up story after story on it. And research on the issue has undergone a mini-boom in our top universities, dominating the work of some of our finest scholars over the last decade or so.

Yet for all this attention there is a disheartening rhythm to much of the policy debate. Every time a gloomy report is published, saloon-bar solutions to our social mobility challenge are trotted out and treated seriously contrary to all evidence (think “grammar schools”). The fact that the key data underpinning most of this work is very dated (relating to those born in 1970) rarely features. Complex and broad questions about the distribution of opportunity across society get shrunk into the issue of the precise number of talented but poor children who manage – or not – to get into Oxbridge. 

There is also a steady predictability to the findings produced by study after study showing that the UK is an international laggard: relative to their better-off peers, poor children have the odds stacked more steeply against them in the UK than in most other advanced nations. Indeed the language of social immobility has gathered currency, with more references to “class ceilings” and the “Great Gatsby curve” (illustrating that high-inequality societies become low-mobility ones) among the media and policy-makers.


Sometimes this breeds a weary sense of policy-fatalism. Seasoned observers highlight, with some justification, that because national levels of mobility appear to be shaped by deep forces – the occupational structure of the jobs market and technological change – they can only altered by major economic transformation or massive social upheaval. The implication is that we should find something slightly more tractable to worry about.

Despite all the analysis there is much that we don’t know that might help open up the policy debate in a more productive way. Ask for a view of how social mobility across the generations varies between say London, Glasgow and Manchester and you will be met with silence.

Sure, we know all sorts of things about school performance, wages, jobs, access to university, life-expectancy and how they vary across urban areas. But hard evidence of the extent to which economic opportunity gets transmitted from one generation to the next, in one city compared to another? It doesn’t exist.

Which is why it’s refreshing that a new body of research jolts us into opening our minds to exactly this question. It comes in the form of a path-breaking body of US research from Raj Chetty and colleagues at Harvard and Stanford that demonstrates the enormous variation in levels of intergenerational social mobility that exists across US cities. Rather than lament national failure it invites us to explore the causes of city-level differences.

The motherlode

The work is a “big data” research project that tracks the economic trajectories of a staggering 40m children – in social research terms, this is akin to discovering the Ark.  It allows an entirely new map of uneven opportunity in contemporary America to be drawn and studied.

It’s widely known that, contra the national myth of the American Dream, the US has shockingly low levels of social mobility. But hitherto no one would have realised that the poor child in, say, Seattle, Salt Lake City or San Francisco has similar rates of upward mobility to a poor child in a high-mobility poster-boy country like Denmark.

Nor do the differences fit into easy caricatures. Why does a working-class child from Seattle have a similar chance of growing up to lead a middle-class life as a middle-class kid in Atlanta? (Both are booming cities.) Why does Pittsburgh so outperform nearby Cleveland? The variations are huge:  poor children have almost three times more chance of making it into high income households as adults in some cities compared to others.

Chetty believes his research can account for the great majority of this variation. Some of the answers don’t translate to the UK: race is a major factor in the US whereas in the UK the story is more nuanced (for instance, poor white children do least well; whereas those from BEM backgrounds are disadvantaged in terms of how their qualifications are translated into wages).

But some of the most powerful findings are suggestive for us. Social segregation of the poor due to patterns of housing has a strongly negative effect on mobility, as does long commute times. High levels of overall income inequality in an urban area are a big drag on mobility. But, interestingly, the position of the top 1 per cent makes little difference: that points to the conclusion that it may be the relative position of the middle class that is pivotal in permitting more upward progression, rather than what is happening to the run-away elite at the very top.

Measures of school performance matter greatly and the evidence suggests that the pivotal years in determining prospects for mobility occur when children are relatively young. Levels of social capital – local civic engagement as well as religious participation – also stand out as being important, as does family structure.

Perhaps some of our cities are quietly generating Scandinavian levels of mobility without us knowing

What can we say about social mobility and cities in the UK? Excellent research has been undertaken (as I’ve highlighted here before) on how the class attainment gap in London’s schools has been dramatically reduced over a generation (though we don’t know the extent to which these big strides will translate into future earnings). And the Sutton Trust have produced an innovative and revealing map showing the variation in performance of disadvantaged children in every (English) parliamentary constituency.

We also know that, if we look at earnings mobility, where you live makes a big difference. Those in London have a far greater chance of advancing up the pay ladder compared to people in other regions– even after we take account of skill levels, occupational mix and other factors – and this effect became much stronger in the 2000s compared to the 1990s. Against this, it would be surprising if London’s staggering levels of inequality in income and wealth compared to other parts of the UK, together with its dysfunctional housing market, didn’t act as a heavy anchor on mobility across the generations.

Studies of social mobility repeatedly suggest that geography matters. In the UK, as with other countries, there are powerful “neighbourhood effects” at work that shape the odds facing disadvantaged kids over and above all their family specific  factors like parental class, income and education.

Earlier this month, new work by the LSE showed that, even after fully taking account of family circumstances and school intake, it was still the case that coming from a neighbourhood characterised by high levels of child poverty was closely linked to a strongly negative impact on educational outcomes.  How a given level of poverty is distributed across an urban area appears to matter greatly to child opportunity.

The limits

These partial insights, however, only take us so far. At one level our knowledge gap about cities and much else simply reflects the fact that it’s not been possible to link up major data sets (including from HMRC) in the UK in the way that other countries have done: a sure case of the need for greater data-activism.

But, at a deeper level, it also mirrors our political culture. Take part in a debate on social mobility and you will – not surprisingly – find yourself discussing familiar national themes: private schools and the demise of grammars, the rise of financial services and decline of manufacturing, mass expansion of higher education, and the role of the welfare state. But a granular discussion about alternative strategies for city-development? Unlikely.


Yet the context for social mobility may well be shaped – more than we realise – below the level of the nation state. Perhaps some of our cities are quietly generating Scandinavian levels of mobility without us knowing; or maybe the smaller, more centralised nature of the UK means they’re all much the same.

It would, however, be highly surprising if there weren’t unlearnt lessons. Decisions about housing supply and mix, land use, transport infrastructure and commute times, migrant settlement and integration, models of school improvement, the transition from education to employment, and the design of shared civic spaces and services may well count for more than we think. Powers over these issues, together with the revenue base needed to underpin them, should form at least part of our national conversation about equity and opportunity (alongside regional economic growth).

It is a feature of our times that, despite strong headwinds, our leading cities believe they have more agency to shape their economic plight than has been the case for some time. As more powerful leaders emerge across our city-regions over the next few years they could also help breathe some new life into our national debate on social mobility. It would be useful if they had some research to guide them.

Gavin Kelly is chief executive of the Resolution Foundation.

This piece was written for an event on “Social Mobility and the future city” at the 2015 Festival of Ideas  

 
 
 
 

Owning public space is expensive. So why do developers want to do it?

Granary Yard, London. Image: Getty.

A great deal has been written about privately owned public space, or POPS. A Guardian investigation earlier this year revealed the proliferation of “pseudo-public spaces”. Tales of people being watched, removed from or told off in POPS have spread online. Activists have taken to monitoring POPS, and politicians on both sides of the pond are calling for reforms in how they are run.

Local authorities’ motives for selling off public spaces are normally simple: getting companies to buy and maintain public space saves precious public pounds. Less straightforward and often overlooked in this debate is why – given the maintenance costs, public safety concerns and increasingly unflattering media attention – developers would actually want to own public space in the first place.

To answer that question it’s important to note that POPS can’t be viewed as isolated places, like parks or other public spaces might be. For the companies that own them, public spaces are bound up in the business that takes place inside their private buildings; POPS are tools that allow them, in one way or another, to boost profits.

Trade-offs

In some cities, such as Hong Kong and New York, ownership of public space is a trade-off for the right to bend the rules in planning and zoning. In 1961 New York introduced a policy that came to be known as ‘incentive zoning’. Developers who took on the provision of some public space could build wider, taller buildings, ignoring restrictions that had previously required staggered vertical growth to let sunlight and air into streets.

Since then, the city has allowed developers to build 20m square feet of private space in exchange for 80 acres of POPS, or 525 individual spaces, according to watchdog Advocates for Privately Owned Public Space (APOPS).

Several of those spaces lie in Trump Tower. Before the King of the Deal began construction on his new headquarters in 1979, he secured a pretty good deal with the city: Trump Tower would provide two atriums, two gardens, some restrooms and some benches for public use; in exchange 20 floors could be added to the top of the skyscraper. That’s quite a lot of condos.

Shockingly, the current president has not always kept up his end of the bargain and has been fined multiple times for dissuading members of the public from using POPS by doing things like placing flower pots on top of benches – violating a 1975 rule which said that companies had to provide amenities that actually make public spaces useable. The incident might suggest the failure of the ‘honour system’ under which POPS operate day-to-day. Once developers have secured their extra square footage, they might be tempted to undermine, subtly, the ‘public’ nature of their public spaces.

But what about where there aren’t necessarily planning benefits to providing public space? Why would companies go to the trouble of managing spaces that the council would otherwise take care of?


Attracting the ‘right sort’

Granary Square, part of the £5bn redevelopment of London’s Kings Cross, has been open since 2012. It is one of Europe’s largest privately-owned public spaces and has become a focal point for concerns over corporate control of public space. Yet developers of the neighbouring Coal Drop Yards site, due to open in October 2018, are also making their “dynamic new public space” a key point in marketing.

Cushman Wakefield, the real estate company in charge of Coal Drops Yard, says that the vision of the developers, Argent, has been to “retain the historical architecture to create a dramatic environment that will attract visitors to the 100,000 square feet of boutiques”. The key word here is “attract”. By designing and managing POPS, developers can attract the consumers who are essential to the success of their sites and who might be put off by a grubby council-managed square – or by a sterile shopping mall door.

A 2011 London Assembly Report found that the expansion of Canary Wharf in the 1990s was a turning point for developers who now “assume that they themselves will take ownership of an open space, with absolute control, in order to protect the value of the development as a whole”. In many ways this is a win-win situation; who doesn’t appreciate a nice water feature or shrub or whatever else big developer money can buy?

The caveat is, as academic Tridib Banerjee pointed out back in 2001: “The public is welcome as long as they are patrons of shops and restaurants, office workers, or clients of businesses located on the premises. But access to and use of the space is only a privilege and not a right” – hence the stories of security guards removing protesters or homeless people who threaten the aspirational appeal of places like Granary Square.

In the US, developers have taken this kind of space-curation even further, using public spaces as part of their formula for attracting the right kind of worker, as well as consumer, for nearby businesses. In Cincinnati, developer 3CDC transformed the notoriously crime-ridden Over-The-Rhine (OTR) neighbourhood into a young professional paradise. Pouring $47m into an initial make-over in 2010, 3CDC beautified parks and public space as well as private buildings.

To do so, the firm received $50 million  in funding from corporations like Procter and Gamble, whose Cincinnati headquarters sits to the South-West of OTR. This kind of hyper-gentrification has profoundly change the demographics of the neighbourhood – to the anger of many long-term residents – attracting, essentially, the kind of people who work at Procter and Gamble.

Elsewhere, in cities like Alpharetta, Georgia, 3CDC have taken their public space management even further, running events and entertainment designed to attract productive young people to otherwise dull neighbourhoods.

Data pools

The proposed partnership between the city of Toronto and Sidewalk Labs (owned by Google’s parent company Alphabet) has highlighted another motive for companies to own public space: the most modern of all resources, data.

Data collection is at the heart of the ‘smart city’ utopia: the idea that by turning public spaces and the people into them into a vast data pool, tech companies can find ways to improve transport, the environment and urban quality of life. If approved next year, Sidewalk would take over the mostly derelict east waterfront area, developing public and private space filled with sensors.

 Of course, this isn’t altruism. The Globe and Mail describe Sidewalk’s desired role as “the private garbage collectors of data”. It’s an apt phrase that reflects the merging of public service and private opportunity in Toronto’s future public space.

The data that Sidewalk could collect in Toronto would be used by Google in its commercial projects. Indeed, they’ve already done so in New York’s LinkNYC and London’s LinkUK. Kiosks installed around the cities provide the public with wifi and charging points, whilst monitoring traffic and pedestrians and generating data to feed into Google Maps.

The subway station at Hudson Yards, New York City. Image: Getty.

This is all pretty anodyne stuff. Data on how we move around public spaces is probably a small price to pay for more efficient transport information, and of course Sidewalk don’t own the areas around their Link Kiosks. But elsewhere companies’ plans to collect data in their POPS have sparked controversy. In New York’s Hudson Yards development – which Sidewalk also has a stake in – ambiguity over how visitors and residents can opt out of sharing their data when in its public square, have raised concerns over privacy.

In Toronto, Sidewalk have already offered to share their data with the city. However, Martin Kenney, researcher at the University of California at Davis and co-author of 2016’s ‘The Rise of the Platform Economy’, has warned that the potential value of a tech company collecting a community’s data should not be underestimated. “What’s really important is the deals Toronto cuts with Sidewalk may set terms and conditions for the rest of the world," he said after the announcement in October.

The project could crystallise all three motives behind the ownership of POPS. Alongside data collection, Sidewalk will likely have some leeway over planning regulations and will certainly tailor its public spaces to its ideal workers and consumers – Google have already announced that it would move its Canadian headquarters, from their current location in Downton Toronto, into the first pilot phase of the development.

Even if the Sidewalks Lab project never happens, the motives behind companies’ ownership of POPS tell us that cities’ public realms are of increasing interest to private hands.

Want more of this stuff? Follow CityMetric on Twitter or Facebook.