How to make the green belt productive - but keep it green

Walkers on Box Hill, in the North Downs. Most green belt doesn't look like this. Image: Getty.

England’s green belts have had, and continue to have, a major impact on town planning. The idea of a ring of countryside surrounding an urban area to prevent sprawl originated in the 1930s, spread to post-war London and was adopted nationally in 1955. Today, about 13% of England is green belt land

But what made sense in the 1950s seems outdated and rather stale now. A one-size-fits-all approach to tackling complex planning issues tends to create more problems than it solves. You don’t need a belt-shaped area of land to check urban sprawl; you don’t need to block all development to promote greener outcomes. Perhaps in the 21st century it is time to admit that green belts are no longer fit for purpose.

In theory, the idea of still has strong protection within the government’s planning framework. That document identifies five strategic functions for the green belt:

  • To check the unrestricted sprawl of large built-up areas;
  • To prevent neighbouring towns merging into one another;
  • To assist in safeguarding the countryside from encroachment;
  • To preserve the setting and special character of historic towns; and
  • To assist in urban regeneration, by encouraging the recycling of derelict and other urban land.

But green belts have been attacked for failing to meet these purposes by a range of vested interests, who've proposed a range of different ideas in response. The head of Persimmon housebuilders, for instance, has called for a relaxation of green belt controls to ease the housing crisis. The chancellor wants more imagination from local planning authorities in where houses are built – including possible incursions into the green belt. Even Natural England, the government body responsible for safeguarding England’s natural environment, has previously called for a major policy rethink

In any case green belt protection is potentially illusory. Greenfield sites, including green belt, are increasingly favoured by developers as they are cheaper to exploit than brownfield sites which have much higher transaction costs. Here economic growth priorities and national planning policy tend to push development pressures onto the urban fringe areas, rather than to more costly brownfield land.

There is clear evidence that while green belts have stopped urban expansion (at least, in some cities), they have resulted in unintended consequences: higher-density development at the urban fringe, including disconnected “edge cities”, and “leapfrogging” development over the green belt to undermine other areas of countryside.

Green belts have a presumption against development, and thus come with little incentive to be positively managed for environmental, community or economic purposes. This leads to degraded landscapes which, while having a valid planning function, produce limited benefit to communities and the environment – unless, of course, you are lucky enough to live in or next to one.

As with natural assets more generally, it's this lack of incentive for active management that is the greatest cause for concern. It's therefore time for a fundamental rethink of the green belt.

Beyond the belt

For one thing, the “belt” metaphor has had its day. We should define bespoke areas that are functional to local geography and the needs of the cities and towns concerned; so wedges, fingers, belts, bananas or whatever shapes may equally apply.

Rather than have green belts used for just major cities we should also create a more inclusive, ubiquitous and positive set of zoning policies, that apply to large towns and major settlements.

Rather than a impose a rigid presumption against development, we should aim for zones that encourage innovative uses that generate investment in environmental and community benefits in keeping with the principles of sustainable development.

Finally, rather than enabling politically convenient incursions into the green belt under the guise of sustainable urban extensions, local planning authorities should define these zones by considering the long-term development needs of their area looking 50 years into the future rather than the present 25 years.

Positive spaces

These principles lead me to propose the idea of “green investment zones”: new positive spaces to invest in. The urban fringe could be rejuvenated by, for example, community food-growing initiatives for health and recreation, or wetland creation for flood protection and biodiversity. A green investment zone would be flexible enough to incorporate whatever new initiative an entrepreneur might propose.

This would require local planning authorities to think strategically, and come up with bolder and longer term visions about the kind of town or city they want to create. The current 25-year planning lifecycle is not long enough.

Developers shouldn’t see these zones as automatic no-go areas. While housing should not normally be allowed in them, they should act as valuable green spaces that can help to protect new and existing housing development from floods and drought. They can provide local food growing areas. and spaces for play and recreation. They also can be used to protect our agriculture and, perhaps more controversially, for energy production (solar, anaerobic digestion or biomass) – neglected planning factors, all.

In this green belt debate we need to move out of the silo thinking. Separating housing, industry, transport, community, landscape and environment needs just leads to disintegrated development.

The green belt may no longer be fit for purpose – but it must not be allowed to become a developers’ charter for nothing more than the short-term pursuit of economic growth. We need to create a more equitable, environmentally-friendly and socially-responsible zoning tool. In that way, we could address current planning shortfalls, and promote a more positive image for planning. The Conversation

Alister Scott is Professor of Environment and Spatial Planning at Birmingham City University.

He has received funding from Research Councils UK, Defra, Scottish and Welsh Governments as part of the Rural Economy and Land Use Programme for work on the urban rural fringe. He has also received funding from Research Councils UK, Defra and the Welsh Government as part of the National Ecosystem Assessment Follow on Programme. The ideas in this article stem from these research projects but are personal views and do not reflect the views of other partners in the research.

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

 
 
 
 

The smartphone app placing virtual statues of women on the map

A virtual Edith Wharton in Central Park, New York City. Image: The Whole Story Project.

If you’re a woman, then in order for you to be immortalised in stone, bronze or whatever once you’ve shuffled off this mortal coil, you should either have royal blood or be willing to be sculpted naked. That is the rule of thumb.

A statue that actually celebrates a woman’s achievements is a rare sight. Writing in the New Statesman last year, equality campaigner Caroline Criado-Perez found that out of 925 statues in Britain, as listed by the Public Monuments and Sculpture Association, only 158 are of solo women. Of these, 46 are of royalty, including 29 of Queen Victoria. Fourteen depict the Virgin Mary.

There are signs of change, albeit slow. The suffragist Millicent Fawcett is set to be honoured with a statue in Parliament Square, where currently all 11 of the statues are of men. (They include Nelson Mandela and a nine-foot Gandhi.) The monument is to be unveiled next year to celebrate the centenary of British women receiving the right to vote.

Elsewhere, the late comedian Victoria Wood is being honoured with a statue that’ll be erected in Bury, Greater Manchester. In the Moss Side area of the city, a statue of Emmeline Pankhurst will be unveiled in 2019. Unlike the Fawcett one, neither of these is expected to receive public money, relying on crowdfunding and other sources instead.

So how many more statues of women, regardless of how they’re funded, would we need to build in order to reduce the gender gap? Well, according to Jonathan Jones, art critic at the Guardian, the magic number is: zero.

Jones’s argument, back in March, was that building statues doesn’t advance feminism, but simply traps us in the past. He wrote:

Statues don’t hold public memory. They politely bury it. These well-meaning images melt into the background scenery of our lives.

Whether this is empirically true is questionable, but it’s true that we tend not to erect them as often as we used to anyway. This is partly because there is less space available for such monuments – a noticeable disadvantage cities of the present have compared to those of the past. In order to reduce the imbalance, statues of men would probably have to be removed; many would no doubt be okay with that, but it would mean erasing history.

One partial answer to the problem is augmented reality. It can’t close the gender gap, but it could shine a spotlight on it.

To that end, an advertising agency in New York launched an app at the beginning of May. The Whole Story allows users to place virtual statues of women on a map; other uses can then view and find out more about the individuals depicted at their real-world locations, using their smartphone cameras.


Currently, users have to upload their own virtual statues using 3D-modelling software. But going forward, the project aims for an open collaboration between designers, developers and organisations, which it hopes will lead to more people getting involved.

Contributions submitted so far include a few dozen in New York, several in Washington and one of Jane Austen in Hyde Park. There are others in Italy and the Czech Republic.

Okay, it’s an app created by a marketing firm, but there are legitimate arguments for it. First, the agency’s chief creative office has herself said that it’s important to address the gender imbalance in a visual way in order to inspire current and future generations: you can’t be what you can’t see, as the saying going.

Second, if the physical presence of statues really is diminishing and they don’t hold public memory, as Jones argues, then smartphones could bridge the gap. We live our lives through our devices, capturing, snapping and storing moments, only to forget about them but then return to and share them at a later date. These memories may melt away, but they’ll always be there, backed up to the cloud even. If smartphones can be used to capture and share the message that a gender imbalance exists then that’s arguably a positive thing.  

Third, with the success of Pokemon Go, augmented reality has shown that it can encourage us to explore public spaces and heighten our appreciation for architectural landmarks. It can also prove useful as a tool for learning about historical monuments.

Of course no app will replace statues altogether. But at the very least it could highlight the fact that women’s achievements are more than just sitting on a throne or giving birth to the son of God.

Rich McEachran tweets as @richmceachran.

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