London doesn't only need houses – we should protect its industrial land, too

Like this, but less pollution-y: Ford's Thames-side car plant in Dagenham, east London. Image: Lars Ploughmann/Wikimedia Commons.

The cost of housing is undoubtedly London’s most severe crisis – but putting the construction of new homes above all else risks making other crises worse. Cities are complicated places that need a range of jobs, as well as mundane goods and services to keep them ticking over. So we should be more wary of the rate at which the industrial sites providing these jobs, goods and services are being turned into flats.

This broader perspective was lost on outraged tweeters when I published my report raising alarm about the loss of industrial land in London. They accused me of standing in the way of new homes being built.

But why not build on parks and gardens? They take up more than half of London’s space, after all. The obvious answer is that they provide vital functions to Londoners and the many other species that inhabit the city. You can’t have homes without space for recreation, plants to cool the air in the summer, permeable spaces to stop rainfall causing floods, and so on.

I wrote my report because I think industrial sites can also provide some vital functions to London. I’m not opposed to all development on them, but I’m worried the mayor has been allowing too much to disappear based on faulty assumptions. Here are five reasons I think you should worry too.

1. They shelter a lot of viable businesses

In 1998 you’d find 14 per cent of industrial sites in London sitting empty, and the impression remains that these are wasted space supporting dying industries. This chart, which inspired my report, shows the mayor’s predictions for the extinction of many industries in London:

 

Source: GLA.

Predictions like these underpin the policy of supplying less and less land, handing it over to housing. But that policy can also cause the loss of these jobs.

In 2010, vacancy rates on London’s industrial land had dropped by half to 7 per cent – lower than most high streets. In Hackney Wick, a site I visited for my report, the vacancy rate is just 4 per cent. The remaining land is used by a range of viable businesses like a mid-scale brewery, a kitchen furniture manufacturer, catering firms, a scaffold yard and more.

But Hackney Wick has been designated for conversion to flats and a few artists’ workshops. So the land owners and developers have bought up the land, are giving shorter and less secure leases, and will eventually boot them out. Some businesses will move, some will fold.

2. We’re losing skilled manual jobs

It’s easy to think that London’s job market is booming, so why care if these businesses go?

The problem is that London, like the rest of the UK, has been experiencing something called “hollowing out of the middle”. This is where the middle-ranking jobs disappear, while new jobs are created at the bottom or the top of the scale – baristas and barristers, but not brewers, if you will. The problem is illustrated on this chart from a recent government report on the problem.

Source: BIS.

If the mayor’s predictions for industrial jobs come true, opportunities for skilled or semi-skilled manual work will disappear almost completely. The extra jobs in constructing homes on ex-industrial sites will fall a very, very long way short of making up the difference.

This crisis has been slowly unfolding for decades, and is one reason for the decline in social mobility and the rise in income inequality.

3. We need jobs to be spread across London

Unlike the media, banks and government, industrial jobs are spread all over London. We have the really large industrial areas in places like Park Royal in the north west and Belvedere in the south east.

At the other end of the scale, you can find small industrial sites peppered all over the city; my flat is on the edge of one in the north of Peckham. Here’s a selection of the bigger ones taken from OpenStreetMap:

This means that people can find work near to their home, which reduces the need to travel.

If everybody ends up working in central London, that would add to the strain on our transport infrastructure. It’s much cheaper to spread the jobs out, and unless we spend huge sums of money on tunnels there are physical constraints on the capacity of our road and rail network anyway.

4. We need some industries in London

Some people seem to think that all industry should move out of London. But the capital depends on many of them to function.

Economists outside the dismal mainstream have coined the label “foundational economy” for “the sector of the economy that provides goods and services taken for granted by all members of the population”. That’s the companies who service the City’s lifts, process and distribute their food, recycle their waste, and so on.

Here’s a sample out of the window of a business I visited in Charlton, including a paper recycling plant:

Location is often critical for these businesses. The lift repairers need to be close to the central London towers, while fresh food producers and distributors need to be close to their markets.

Industrial sites shelter these mundane but essential goods and services that keep everything ticking over. Planning policy locking in the industrial use keeps the value of the land down, keeping the businesses viable. How would we build homes without scaffold and builders yards?

Ironically, the ongoing conversion of these to homes has meant longer journeys for suppliers, which has been driving up the cost of building those homes.

5. It’s good for the environment to be in London

The extra costs for builders point to my final reason to keep some industry in London.

Forcing businesses to outer London and beyond will mean more traffic, and so more pollution and congestion on our roads. Many industrial sites around London have rail heads onto the rail network and wharves onto the Thames and its tributaries, keeping huge quantities of materials on trains and boats instead of putting them onto our roads.

Air pollution and climate change are two other crises facing London. It doesn’t make sense to tackle the housing crisis and, in the process, make it harder to reduce pollution harmful to our health and a stable climate.

So let’s build more homes, but as part of a coherent strategy for the city as a whole – a city that can function with good job opportunities and falling pollution.

Baroness Jones of Moulsecoomb is a member of the Green party and of the London Assembly.

 
 
 
 

A Century after radical leftists were elected to its city hall, Vienna’s social democratic base is slipping away

Karl Marx Hof. Image: Kagan Kaya.

Karl Marx-Hof, a kilometre-long municipal apartment block in Vienna’s wealthy 19th district, was first named after the father of the communist movement by Austria’s Social Democratic Workers’ Party (SDAP) in 1927. Its imposing structure borrows from an eclectic mix of modernist, Bauhaus, art deco, neoclassical and baroque architectural styles. In the mould of early soviet experiments, the building, nicknamed The Palace of the Proletariat, housed shared childcare services, gardens and washrooms.

The building is Vienna’s most prominent physical reminder of a period known as Red Vienna, when left-wing radicals found themselves at the helm of the Hapsburg’s former imperial capital during the aftermath of the First World War. 

After the collapse of the Austro-Hungarian dual monarchy in 1918, the SDAP won the fledgeling republic’s first elections held under universal suffrage and commenced an ambitious programme of social and economic reform. Leading intellectual lights of the party sought to unite the two great strands of the 20th-century labour movement, reconciling parliamentary socialism and revolutionary communism under their new current of non-Bolshevik “Austro-Marxism”. Karl Marx-Hof epitomised their radical ambitions. “When we are no longer here”, Mayor Karl Seitz told an assembled crowd of workers at the building’s opening in 1930, “these bricks will speak for us.”

When I visited Karl Marx-Hof on a sunny day in June, Monica and George, two of its residents, were walking their two Chihuahuas around the estate’s leafy, quiet courtyards. “We moved here last year,” Monica tells me. “It’s really nice because you’ve got a lot of green space in the middle of the city.”

The young couple are the beneficiaries of a generous system of public housing provision. Vienna has a relative abundance of high-quality municipal flats compared with most large capitals. “We weren’t waiting long for the flat – moving in here was really fast”, Monica says. Currently, 60 per cent of Vienna’s residents live in either municipally owned, subsidised housing, or in social homes run by not-for-profit cooperatives. The remaining portion of private homes is subject to strict rent controls and regulations.

The social democrats and their less radical successors have remained the dominant party in Vienna since the city’s first election, save for an 11-year hiatus of fascist dictatorship from 1934, followed by Anschluss and Nazi occupation from 1938. The city remains a red statelet in an otherwise conservative country. Indeed, Austria is now more associated with the far right than the radical left. But even Vienna is no longer immune to the trend of waning support for centre-left parties that has gripped European countries since 2008, and cracks are beginning to appear in its social democratic project.

Two exhibitions in the city – one in the former communal wash house of Karl Marx-Hof, the other in the grand Wien Museum MUSA – note the achievements of Red Vienna’s experiment in local socialism: the introduction of pensions and unemployment support; the establishment of a nascent public healthcare system; the opening of kindergartens, schools run on Montessori principles, public baths, open-air swimming pools, libraries, parks, leisure facilities, arts centres; and, of course, a programme of mass council house building, all paid for by a system of progressive income taxation coupled with duties on luxury goods, including servants, champagne, private cars and riding horses.

Unlike the Bolsheviks, (and partly because, as a provincial government, it lacked the powers to do so), the SDAP did not expropriate or nationalise factories or private industry without compensation, but instead paid former owners whenever buildings or land passed from private to public hands. The party built what it perceived to be the chrysalis of a new egalitarian society, while leaving the market and private ownership of the means of production largely intact. In many ways, its policies palliated the worst effects of early 20th century industrial capitalism like slum housing, mass unemployment and extreme poverty. Red Vienna laid the ground for the modern European welfare state, inspiring other social democratic governments across the continent to implement similar policies after the Second World War. 


“Back then the social democrats were good,” Monica tells me, attempting to calm her excitable dogs by pulling on their leads. Does she intend to vote for the social democrats in the upcoming national elections in September? “We vote for the blue ones,” she answers. Monica and George will cast their vote for the Freheitliche Partei Osterreichs (FPO), the Freedom Party, an organisation founded after the Second World War by a former Nazi minister of agriculture and high-ranking SS officer. “It’s because of all the refugees and all the violence that’s going on here,” she claims. “Shootings are more frequent in Vienna.”

Austria has one of the lowest murder rates in the world, almost half that of England and Wales, and Vienna itself is known for its relative safety compared to other European capitals. But hundreds of thousands of refugees have travelled through Austria over the last four years. Many have made the city their home, but most have transited towards Germany, at Angela Merkel’s invitation. The mass movement of people from across the Mediterranean to central and northern Europe has ruptured the country’s social-democratic pact. In 2016, Norbert Hofer of the Freedom Party narrowly missed out on victory in the presidential election, receiving 46 per cent of the vote.

“Lots of people say they’re just racists,” Monica continues, visibly uncomfortable with the idea that people would attribute malice or prejudice to voters like herself. But she hastens to add that her views, and those of her partner George, aren’t necessarily typical of Vienna’s affluent 19th district. “There are very rich people here, so they vote for the party who protects their interests… You’ll see a lot of big houses, so I think the OVP, the People’s Party, would do well.”

The OVP is the more traditional centre-right party of Austrian politics, and wins the most seats in the 19th district. Yet the city’s voting patterns are diverse. This is partly a result of the policies of successive social democratic administrations placing the integration of social classes and income levels at the heart of their municipal agenda. Subsidised housing can be found alongside wealthy private apartments in the city centre designed by Renzo Piano, and at the foot of the city’s vineyards near up-market wine taverns. Kurt Puchinger, chair of wohnfonds_wien, the city’s land and housing fund, tells me that the council “do not want to have a situation where you can identify the social status of a person by their home address.”

Despite the SDAP’s century-long efforts to promote social cohesion, recent years have seen the rise the FPO’s vote share at the expense of the left. Favoriten is a more solidly working class area of Vienna in the 10th district. There, according to Monica, “most vote for the Freedom Party because they are for stopping migration.” She pauses to consider her words. “Not stopping. Trying to find a way to filter them and control them. Every country has a problem like this.”

Monica’s feeling for the electoral preferences of each of the various Viennese districts proves accurate. After the war, Favoriten elected communists as their local representatives. The district's loyalties quickly switched to the social democrats, and until 2005 the party could comfortably expect to receive over half the votes there, consistently getting more than double the votes of both the far-right Freedom Party and the centre-right People’s Party. But in the most recent 2015 election, the Freedom Party won 24 seats and 38 per cent of the vote, only two points and one seat behind the social democrats. In Austria nationally, the People’s Party, headed by a 32-year-old leader, Sebastian Kurz, with Patrick Bateman overtones, has formed a government with the Freedom Party – but their coalition collapsed ignominiously in May.

Neither Austria as a whole, nor Favoriten in particular, are outliers. In France, Le Pen’s National Rally polls well in the Communist Party’s former “ceinture rouge” outside Paris. In Britain, Labour’s post-industrial heartlands are turning towards the Brexit Party, while blue collar workers in America’s rust belt have backed Donald Trump. And in Vienna, neither the impressive legacy of the SDAP nor the continually high standard of living (the city was rated as the world’s most liveable for the 10th time in 2018 by Mercer, the consultancy giant) is enough to stem the tide of right-wing populism.

Until he was unseated as leader following a corruption scandal in May, Heinz-Christian Strache positioned the FPO as the party of the working class, a guarantor of Austrian identity, and the protector of a generous welfare system now threatened by an influx of migrants. “We believe in our youth,” ran one of his slogans, “the [social democrats] in immigration.”

Sofia is a masseuse who has lived in Karl Marx-Hof for 19 years with her partner and his son. “People are angry with the social democrats now because of refugees,” she told me. “They should change this... They should say ‘we are on the left but we can’t accept everybody here.’” The view that the party have abandoned their traditional voters is widespread, but Sofia isn’t fond of the alternatives. “The FPO – the Nazis – you can’t vote for the Nazis… anyone who votes FPO isn’t my friend… But I won’t vote for the People’s Party because they do everything for rich people, not normal people.”

Sofia reserves her strongest criticism for the youthful Sebastian Kurz, who is likely to become head of another People’s Party-led coalition after elections in September. “I’m scared of him,” she says. “I think he’s a psychopath. I think he’s not a normal person.”

Like many Viennese, Sofia admires the legacy of Red Vienna: “The socialists did a lot of really good things. We are the only city in the world that has so much state housing. And they brought in pensions, health insurance, a lot of things.” But she’s not sure they will get her vote in 2019. In an era of polarisation and anti-establishment rhetoric, the most fertile yet unoccupied political ground seems to be for a radical, redistributive economic programme, coupled with a more conservative vision of shared responsibilities and values, national sovereignty, and sociocultural issues.

“Even in the working class areas of the city,” sighs Kurt Puchinger, the city’s housing fund chair, “less people are voting social democrat. And this is a pity.” 100 years since the old radical Social Democratic Workers’ Party was first elected by a restive, war-weary working class, the working class remains restive, but while the SDAP’s flagship Karl Marx-Hof still stands, the bricks no longer seem to be speaking for them.