France just created 10 new city regions over night

France's new metropolitan regions. Image courtesy of the government of France.

Last October, after much gnashing of teeth, Britain’s government announced that it was finally handing a measure of long-awaited freedom to the northern English city of Manchester. A few weeks later, after even more protracted debate, it did the same for Sheffield. Everyone agreed that cities need more power, but making this a reality is, as far as the British government is concerned, obviously quite dreadfully hard.

So anyway, France just created 10 new city regions in one fell swoop without bothering with any of this nonsense.

These métropoles, which you can see in the map above, are “intercommunal” structures, in which a bunch of existing local councils, or communes, work together to provide services for an entire city region. They’re not unlike the Combined Authorities which are starting to spring up across the channel.

Even before this week’s big bang, the country already had two authorities that did much the same job. The Métropole Nice Côte d'Azur covered most of the Mediterranean city, but excludes some of its western suburbs (suburban sniffiness, it seems, is a universal problem). Meanwhile “Grand Lyon” covers, well, you can probably guess.

On 1 January, though, two things happened. Firstly, the number of such bodies multiplied six fold, to encompass just about every city in France with a population of half a million or more; two more will come on stream next year. Of the country's 14 biggest cities, just one isn’t getting a new authority, and that’s Toulon, which ranks 13th. Over the next couple of years, these new metropolitan authorities will be given enhanced power over a wide range of competencies, including economic development, housing, water and skills.

France's three biggest cities will actually have an even wider range of powers, over areas including tourism, culture, agriculture (!) and international relations. And that’s the other thing that happened last week. When Grand Lyon transformed into La Métropole de Lyon, it magically acquired a whole bunch of new powers, previously exercised by the regional government. It now has pretty much complete control of its own destiny: this, the French government said, will allow Lyon to "consolidate its position as a major European power alongside Manchester, Milan and Barcelona" (only it said it in French).

The other two super-métropoles will arrive on 1 January 2016. One is Aix-Marseille-Provence. The big prize, though, is Grand Paris, which will cover the existing city, plus the three inner suburban departments surrounding it, and possibly areas outside it, too. That should help to break down some of the barriers between the glamorous capital and its suburbs, which have all too often been deprived of investment, infrastructure and attention.

Click for a larger image.

All this is the latest move in a major reorganisation of French regional government that the country's law-makers finally signed off on in mid-December. The new administrative map has reduced the number of administrative regions from 22 to 13, in the first major reorganisation since Napoleon was still smashing up bits of Europe. It also, incidentally, has created a region called Alsace-Lorraine, so that should end well.

 
 
 
 

This fun map allows you to see what a nuclear detonation would do to any city on Earth

A 1971 nuclear test at Mururoa atoll. Image: Getty.

In 1984, the BBC broadcast Threads, a documentary-style drama in which a young Sheffield couple rush to get married because of an unplanned pregnancy, but never quite get round to it because half way through the film the Soviets drop a nuclear bomb on Sheffield. Jimmy, we assume, is killed in the blast (he just disappears, never to be seen again); Ruth survives, but dies of old age 10 years later, while still in her early 30s, leaving her daughter to find for herself in a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

It’s horrifying. It’s so horrifying I’ve never seen the whole thing, even though it’s an incredibly good film which is freely available online, because I once watched the 10 minutes from the middle of the film which show the bomb actually going off and it genuinely gave me nightmares for a month.

In my mind, I suppose, I’d always imagined that being nuked would be a reasonably clean way to go – a bright light, a rushing noise and then whatever happened next wasn’t your problem. Threads taught me that maybe I had a rose-tinted view of nuclear holocaust.

Anyway. In the event you’d like to check what a nuke would do to the real Sheffield, the helpful NukeMap website has the answer.

It shows that dropping a bomb of the same size as the one the US used on Hiroshima in 1945 – a relatively diddly 15kt – would probably kill around 76,500 people:

Those within the central yellow and red circles would be likely to die instantly, due to fireball or air pressure. In the green circle, the radiation would kill at least half the population over a period of hours, days or weeks. In the grey, the thing most likely to kill you would be the collapse of your house, thanks to the air blast, while those in the outer, orange circle would most likely to get away with third degree burns.

Other than that, it’d be quite a nice day.

“Little boy”, the bomb dropped on Hiroshima, was tiny, by the standards of the bombs out there in the world today, of course – but don’t worry, because NukeMap lets you try bigger bombs on for size, too.

The largest bomb in the US arsenal at present is the B-83 which, weighing in at 1.2Mt, is about 80 times the size of Little Boy. Detonate that, and the map has to zoom out, quite a lot.

That’s an estimated 303,000 dead, around a quarter of the population of South Yorkshire. Another 400,000 are injured.

The biggest bomb of all in this fictional arsenal is the USSRS’s 100Mt Tsar Bomba, which was designed but never tested. (The smaller 50MT variety was tested in 1951.) Here’s what that would do:

Around 1.5m dead; 4.7m injured. Bloody hell.

We don’t have to stick to Sheffield, of course. Here’s what the same bomb would do to London:

(Near universal fatalities in zones 1 & 2. Widespread death as far as St Albans and Sevenoaks. Third degree burns in Brighton and Milton Keynes. Over 5.9m dead; another 6m injured.)

Everyone in this orange circle is definitely dead.

Or New York:

(More than 8m dead; another 6.7m injured. Fatalities effectively universal in Lower Manhattan, Downtown Brooklyn, Williamsburg, and Hoboken.)

Or, since it’s the biggest city in the world, Tokyo:

(Nearly 14m dead. Another 14.5m injured. By way of comparison, the estimated death toll of the Hiroshima bombing was somewhere between 90,000 and 146,000.)

I’m going to stop there. But if you’re feeling morbid, you can drop a bomb of any size on any area of earth, just to see what happens.


And whatever you do though: do not watch Threads. Just trust me on this.

Jonn Elledge is the editor of CityMetric. He is on Twitter as @jonnelledge and also has a Facebook page now for some reason. 

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