Does a thriving tech sector really benefit a city – or does it just increase inequality?

500m around Silicon Roundabout. Is this as far as its benefits stretch? Image: Google Maps.

The tech sector has been making its presence felt in many larger cities for a number of years now, and in an uncertain era is proving to be one of the dynamos behind the “next economy”. That’s a good thing right? More jobs, more money, smarter cities?

Well, yes – but who exactly is it a good thing for?

Some of the cities that profess to be the smartest, most data driven, tech paradises – London and San Francisco come to mind – have both a flourishing tech sector and high levels of inequality. How smart are these cities, really, if they are teeming grounds of unfairness?

Research shows that, left to its own devices, the tech industry can be quiet self contained, producing an insular organism with few spillover benefits for the wider city. Positive externalities from tech clusters can be highly localised: spending by firms tends to occur in a particular zone, sometimes in a radius as small as 500m of their base. (This of course differs with location.)

Nevertheless there is a global trend of tech growth leading to one part of the city benefitting disproportionately, creating gentrified ghettoes and social tension of the sort witnessed in San Francisco. Tech growth in the Bay Area has driven property prices to levels far out of kilter with the average local salary, pricing out smaller firms, and costing the city infrastructure funding due to tax exemptions and privately run transport services.

This need not be the case. Tech is not an untameable force of nature. Its impact on a city and who gets to share in its potential benefits are grounded in the choices we make as a society. The question is, as as a tech industry grows, what are the best policy decisions to enhance opportunities on offer to the greatest number of people?

Experience shows that, if there is proactive leadership and public decision making about who should feel the benefits of tech growth, then it can be balanced across a city.

Take Chicago, where mayor Rahm Emmanuel’s office has formulated “The City Technology Plan”. It provides long-term strategies to use the burgeoning tech sector to enhance social as well as economic opportunity for Chicagoans. The main strategies include building a next generation digital infrastructure; fostering tech education through 2smart communities”; and providing for efficient and open government, and civic innovation.

The primary goal of the plan is to provide social and economic opportunities, with resident engagement, access, and skills – as well as job creation – among the top objectives.  Where there is effective leadership, city-level planning can be instrumental in ensuring that the spatial clustering characteristic of tech sector growth leads to positive spill over effects for the whole city.

But it won’t just happen organically; there needs to be planning and engagement if these mutual benefits are to be reaped. City and industry leaders alike need to collaborate and make decisions as to the level and type of interaction between tech growth and the wider city. As the Royal Town Planning Institute has argued, an important function of contemporary planning is recognising and understanding current economic factors and growth trends so that strategic decisions surrounding development add value to the local area. By understanding the needs of a community, planners can assist with achieving successful outcomes by working closely with the private sector, leaders and neighbouring authorities

In The Death and Life of American Cities Jane Jacobs promotes

the need of cities for a most intricate and code grained diversity of uses that give each other constant mutual support, both economically and socially... The science of city planning and the art of city design, in real life for real cities, must become the science and art of catalysing and nourishing these close-grained working relationships.

This may mean the creation of new roles at the city level: employing a tech lead in the mayor’s office as has been done in New York, Dublin, and London. However, if this is the route taken, the remit of the city tech lead needs to be wider than just inviting tech companies to locate in the city.

Ideally the tech lead would liaise with city planners who can articulate the issues being faced by the city – such as housing affordability, infrastructure pressures, and skills shortages. Dialogue with industry leaders about their plans may then reveal how the growth of tech could feed into a plan for addressing these issues.

Industry too should to take account of the affect it has on, and what it owes, the city in which it sets up. After all, it is often planned public investments in infrastructure that makes a city attractive to firms and their aspirational employees in the first place. And it’s this that continues to facilitate growth through the creation of what the Brookings Institute’s Bruce Katz has christened “Innovation Districts”:

…mash ups of entrepreneurs and educational institutions, start-ups and schools, mixed-use development and medical innovations, bike-sharing and bankable investments – all connected by transit, powered by clean energy, wired for digital technology, and fuelled by caffeine.

Whether or not it is acknowledged to the extent it is in places like Chicago, many cities have a relationship with the tech sector. The more this relationship is formalised, the more likely it is that conscious decisions as to how each can mutually support the other’s goals will be made.

One of the RTPI’s current work streams focuses on the relationship between cities and the tech sector. The project will combine case studies and evidence drawn from interviews and round tables with industry leaders, members of the academic communities, and city planners. Taken together, these will articulate the role planning has to play in creating the kind of places that attract tech – and planning's role in ensuring that the economic growth that emanates from tech clusters benefits the wider metropolitan area.

The huge potential for mutual economic and social support that exists between a city and the tech sector should be nurtured into a collaborative relationship that has as its objectives the provision of public goods – as well as economic growth.

Joe Kilroy is a policy offer at the Royal Town Planning Institute. You can find him on Twiter here.

To find out more about the RTPI’s tech project click here.

 
 
 
 

It’s not all cool bridges and very real concerns: In defence of Teesside

Just one of the many interesting bridges you’ll find in Teesside. Image: Stephen Jorgensen-Murray.

The latest entry in our ‘In Defence Of’ series...

I have to start this with a disclaimer: I’m not writing this from anywhere in Teesside. I’m writing this from Germany, where I live and work. Some of you may remember being told by Norman Tebbit, that instead of complaining that we can’t find jobs, we should get on our bikes (or, more recently, by IDS to get on a bus), and I did. I’m paid well here, to do a job that doesn’t really exist in Teesside. And yet, every time I go home to visit my family, I almost wish I’d stayed.

This isn’t going to be a very straightforward take – I’m hoping to pay my respects to Stockton, Middlesbrough and Hartlepool as well as my native Billingham – but Teesside isn’t a very straightforward place. What county is it in? Cleveland, Stockton-on-Tees, Durham or North Yorkshire depending on how old you are and where you’re standing. I always had great fun ordering online and trying to guess which of the unfamiliar options on the dropdown menu would get my parcel to me.

But regardless of where you draw the lines, Teesside is still there.

Our accent is similarly hard to pin down: Geordie, Mackem, Yorkshire, even Scouse, depending on who’s imitating us. I’ve been pegged as Irish, American and South African by determined people in the past. Our slang is stolen from Scotland, Northumberland, Newcastle and Yorkshire, and, not satisfied, some words are purely our own. Hoy, shan, howay, dinner nanny. We have as many words for classless people as the Romans did for murder.

But regardless of how it sounds to you, Teesside still talks.


On a map of the UK, Teesside sits as an isolated blob of civilisation between the Dales and the sea. Half-urban, half-rural, half-seaside, half-inland, half industrial estate and half nature reserve. A Labour heartland with a Tory mayor. Places that sprang up fully formed in the ICI rush of the 1950s, but that still have Viking place names.

We’ve been portrayed in fiction by Richard Milward, in song by Maximo Park, in statistics by Lady Florence Bell and in cinema by Sir Ridley Scott (our chemical works and power plants inspired the look of Blade Runner). More recently, we’re being portrayed in documentary in The Mighty Redcar, and in the media as an area of left-behind, white working class racists who all voted Leave. But while most of the area is whiter than the average, Middlesbrough mirrors the UK average for racial diversity and has been assigned to resettle more refugees than any other town in the UK – and more than its cut-back council can look after.

And when you look at the numbers, the proportion of the population of Teesside who voted to leave the EU is much less than many other areas. (And yes, of course I voted Remain from my now slightly more precarious home in Frankfurt, joining 100,000 other Teesside Remainers.)

We’re pitied for the loss of the Teesside steelworks and derided for blaming the EU for it (when of course it was our own government’s sabotaging of EU attempts to block Chinese steel dumping that drove that knife in). Even the people who profess to be on our side take our angry, uneducated racism as fact, baking it into the premises of their arguments, which consist of addressing our “racist but real concerns”, and how to reach us.

But whether you understand us or not, whether you miss the point or not, we’ll continue to exist, long after we’ve been forgotten again.

Billingham town centre. One of the first pedestrianised town centres in the UK. Image: Stephen Jorgensen-Murray.

Still, while we’re in the spotlight, why not see what we have to offer? Come to see our rather wonderful collection of interesting bridges. See where the first public steam train ran, from Stockton to Darlington. Visit Mima, the modern art gallery in Middlesbrough and the 1960s utopia of Billingham’s pedestrianised town centre. Feel slightly uncomfortable around all the things that are named for Captain Cook (though the replica of the Endeavour at Stockton riverside is impressive regardless on your thoughts on its captain – and it’s the best you’ll see until they work out whether they’ve found the real one yet). Wander Middlesbrough’s thriving student/hipster district on Linthorpe RoadD – despite being a punchline during my youth, Teesside University has become a respected institution. Visit Billingham’s Folklore Festival in August, where as schoolchildren we’d watch troupes of folk dancers from across the world open-mouthed, and get their autographs afterwards as though they were celebrities.

Fried chicken, white sauce and cheese make the Teesside parmo. Perfect. Image: Stephen Jorgensen-Murray.

Try a parmo. Try the Billingham Catholic Club’s real ale, and stay for the bingo, which is called by a man with the most acrobatic mental arithmetic skills I’ve ever seen. Try a lemon top ice cream from Pacitto’s in Redcar and wonder why no one else has ever done this before. Lemon sorbet and vanilla ice cream! Together at last!

While you’re at the beach, take a ride on the Saltburn Cliff Lift, the oldest operating water-balance cliff lift in the UK. Pretend Saltburn is sort of in Teesside while you’re enjoying the view. Look out on beaches black with sea coal, washed up from undersea seams and nearby coal mines. Visit the golf course by Seaton Carew to catch a glimpse of a curlew or two, and watch the young seagulls pick up golf balls to crack them open by dropping them from a great height. Visit Seal Sands, whose owners can be observed lazing on the estuary banks whenever the tide is out. Or visit Saltholme, the RSPB nature reserve, where you can see avocets, Britain’s weirdest-looking and most beloved seabird.

Nature coexists with industry on Teesside. Image: Stephen Jorgensen-Murray.

Go white water rafting, bell boating or paddleboarding at the Tees Barrage, where there are so many seals that they’ve had to put up guards to keep them out of the way. The Tees used to be too polluted even to support salmon and trout, and now we have too many of one of Britain’s largest native mammals. The return of the seals to the Tees was the first documented case of seals returning to an industrial area. You’d be surprised at how well nature can thrive in the shadow of industry, colonising the quiet fields and marshy ponds on private land that are never disturbed, haunted by sika deer and shelducks, redshanks, knots, stonechats.

Teesside has plenty to offer. What it doesn’t have is the jobs to keep its younger generations from having to get on their bikes and leave. We aren’t aliens, or Jacob Rees-Mogg’s army of goblin henchbrexiteers. We’re just like you, but with more seals and fewer employment opportunities.