8 more ways of visualising London's growth: a question of density

London from the air. You wouldn't think it, but it's a bit empty down there. Image: Daniel Chapman/Stirling Ackroyd.

Last week we published a selection of graphics showing how London's population had grown, how it had changed relative to the country that contains it, and how, on some definitions, the city was threatening to break its bounds and swallow large chunks of the south east. Then we published a bunch of maps to track the rise of the suburbs.

What we didn't do, though, was consider how the 8.6m Londoners were distributed within the city itself. Look at that and you'll swiftly learn that, in one crucial way, the British capital is very, very weird.

To metroland!

London's population was initially crowded into what is now inner London*: that's no surprise, as that’s where the city began, and as recently 100 years ago, much of what is now classified as "outer London" was open countryside dotted with villages and small towns.

From the late 19th century onwards, though, the population of what is now outer London began to grow, and grow, and grow. It overtook the population of inner London some time in the 1940s; the latter has never seriously threatened its demographic dominance since.

We've written before about the post-war depopulation of London. Split the city into its inner and outer rings, though, and it soon becomes clear that this description is, well, a bit simplistic.

Source: Census data.

The population of inner London actually peaked a quarter of a century before 1939, hitting 5m around the time of World War One. But it then starts to slide – at first slowly, but then accelerating after about 1930. From peak to trough, in the early 1980s, it falls to more than half.

But that’s just inner London. The population of outer London actually keeps rising until the 1950s, before flattening out. It dips a little after that, but never by more than about 7 per cent. Outer London is relatively stable.

In other words, the post-war depopulation of London was actually the depopulation of the inner city. In the “Metroland” years of the 1920s and 1930s, people moved out to more spacious newly homes on the shiny new tube lines. Later, this became an act of deliberate government policy, to clear bomb-damaged slums and decant a fair chunk of Londoners to new towns in the commuter belt.

This map, from Quod's Barney Stringer, tracks this trend, in two different ways. The size of the boroughs represents their population in 1939. Their colour represents their change in population since.

Image: Barney Stringer/Quod.

At a glance you can see that, on the eve of WW2, the inner city was still relatively crowded, but has massively depopulated since. Most of the outer boroughs, by contrast, have grown in population; and the more suburban the borough, the more it's likely to have grown.

Today, while both parts of the city are growing once again, around 60 per cent of Londoners live in the city's outer boroughs...

Source: 2011 census data.

...and, while we hear much less about them than some of the inner ones, all six of London's largest boroughs by population are actually out in the suburbs:

Source: 2011 census data.

What makes London weird

Okay, we promised you that London was weird, and you've patiently read this far in the hope of finding out why. So, here it is.

These awesome graphics come from the clever people at the LSE Cities programme. They show the average population of each part of a city over a 24 hour period (including residents, workers, tourists, etc). The higher the peak, the more densely populated the city. You can click for a larger version.

Click to expand. Images: LSE Cities.

You can no doubt see the pattern already, but let's hammer it home. Here are some similar graphics, also from LSE Cities, but this time only including residential population. (We’ve manipulated them a little to make them display better on our site, but we’ve not amended the graphics themselves.)

  

 

Click to expand. Images: LSE Cities.

...and here's London.

Click to expand. Images: LSE Cities.

Look at all that empty sky.

Two things stand out from this.

1) Whatever way you count it, London is much, much less densely populated that most megacities. We sadly don't have a similar graphic for Paris, which one might think a better comparator for London than, say, Delhi; but suffice it to say that the average density in Paris proper (the equivalent of inner London) stands at 21,500 per km2, which is higher than the peak population density for London listed in the graphic above.

2) London's population is much more evenly distributed. Most cities have a centre that's full to bursting, but then trail out to less populated suburbs and a relatively empty hinterland. In London, though, the inner city is not that much more dense than the suburbs, or the ring of commuter towns that surround it.

Here's a clearer image:

Click to expand. Image: Skate Tier/Wikimedia Commons.

London, in other words, is a freak.

The good news here is that, when you look at it like this, the city has loads of room for all those extra people wanting to come here. We could fit nearly 2m more people into the inner city, without any part of it exceeding its previous peak population. Four boroughs are, in one sense, half empty:

Click to expand. Image: Neil Hudson/Savills.

Maybe everything's going to be alright.

For the purposes of this article we’re using the Office for National Statistics definition of inner London, which includes Haringey and Newham, but excludes Greenwich. This is the third part of a series about how London's population has changed over the last 75 years. You can find the previous parts here and here.


 

 
 
 
 

There isn’t a single national housing market – so we need multiple models of local regeneration, too

Rochdale. Image: Getty.

This week’s budget comes ten years after the 2007 financial crisis. The trigger for that crisis was a loss in confidence in mortgages for homes, with banks suddenly recognising the vulnerability of loans on their books.

In the last ten years, the UK’s cities and regions have followed very different paths. This week’s focus on housing affordability is welcome, but it will be a challenge for any chancellor in the coming decade to use national policy to help towns up and down the country. Local housing markets differ drastically. The new crop of city-region mayors are recognising this, as rents in parts of south Greater Manchester are on average double the rents in parts of the north of the city-region.

When it comes to buying a home, politicians are increasingly articulate about the consequences of inequity in our housing system. But we must recognise that, for 9m citizens who live in social rented homes, the prospects of improvements to properties, common areas and grounds are usually tied to wider projects to create new housing within existing estates – sometimes involving complete demolition and rebuilding.

While the Conservative governments of the 1980s shrank the scale of direct investment in building homes for social rent, the Labour governments from the late 1990s used a sustained period of growth in property prices to champion a new model: affordable housing was to be paid for by policies which required contributions to go to housing associations. Effectively, the funding for new affordable housing and refurbished social homes was part of the profit from market housing built next door, on the same turf; a large programme of government investment also brought millions of social rented homes up to a decent standard.

This cross-subsidy model was always flawed. Most fundamentally, it relies on rising property prices – which it is neither desirable nor realistic to expect. Building more social homes became dependent on ratcheting up prices and securing more private profit. In London, we are starting to see that model come apart at the seams.

The inevitable result has been that with long social housing waiting lists and rocketing market prices, new developments have too often ended up as segregated local communities, home to both the richest and the poorest. They may live side by side, but as the RSA concluded earlier this year, investment in the social infrastructure and community development to help neighbours integrate has too often been lacking. Several regeneration schemes that soldiered on through the downturn did so by building more private homes and fewer social rented homes than existed before, or by taking advantage of more generous legal definitions of what counts as ‘affordable housing’ – or both.

A rough guide to how house prices have changed since 2007: each hexagon is a constituency. You can explore the full version at ODI Leeds.

In most of England’s cities, the story does not appear to be heading for the dramatic crescendo high court showdowns that now haunt both developers and communities in the capital. In fact, for most social housing estates in most places outside London, national government should recognise that the whole story looks very different. As austerity measures have tightened budgets for providers of social housing, budgets to refurbish ageing homes are under pressure to do more with less. With an uncertain outlook for property prices, as well as ample brownfield and greenfield housing sites, estates in many northern towns are not a priority for private investors in property development.

In many towns and cities – across the North and the Midlands – the challenges of a poor quality built environment, a poor choice of homes in the local are, and entrenched deprivation remain serious. The recent reclassification of housing associations into the private sector doesn’t make investing in repairs and renewal more profitable. The bespoke ‘housing deals’ announced show that the government is willing to invest directly – but there is anxiety that devolution to combined authorities simply creates another organisation that needs to prioritise building new homes over the renewal of existing neighbourhoods.


In Rochdale, the RSA is working with local mutual housing society RBH to plan for physical, social and economic regeneration at the same time. Importantly, we are making the case – with input from the community of residents themselves – that significant investment in improving employment for residents might itself save the public purse enough money to pay for itself in the long-run.

Lots of services are already effective at helping people find work and start a job. But for those for whom job searching feels out of reach, we are learning from Rochdale Borough Council’s pioneering work that the journey to work can only come from trusting, personal relationships. We hear time and again about the demoralising effect of benefits sanctions and penalties. We are considering an alternative provision of welfare payments, as are other authorities in the UK. Importantly, residents are identifying clearly the particular new challenges created by new forms of modern employment and the type of work available locally: this is a town where JD Sports is hiring 1000 additional workers to fulfil Black Friday orders at its warehouse.

In neighbourhoods like Rochdale’s town centre, both national government and the new devolved city-region administration are considering an approach to neighbourhood change that works for both people and place together. Redevelopment of the built environment is recognised as just one aspect of improving people’s quality of life. Residents themselves will tell you quality jobs and community facilities are their priority. But without a wider range of housing choices and neighbourhood investment locally, success in supporting residents to achieve rising incomes will mean many residents are likely to leave places like Rochdale town centre altogether.

Meaningful change happen won’t happen without patience and trust: between agencies in the public sector, between tenants and landlords, and between citizens and the leaders of cities. This applies as much to our planning system as it does to our complex skills and employment system.

Trust builds slowly and erodes quickly. As with our other projects at the RSA, we are convinced that listening and engaging citizens will improve policy-making. Most of those involved in regeneration know this better than anyone. But at the national level we need to recognise that, just as the labour market and the housing market vary dramatically from place to place, there isn’t a single national story which represents how communities feel about local regeneration.

Jonathan Schifferes is interim Director, Public Services and Communities, at the Royal Society for the encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce (RSA).