Most of Britain is poorer than the European average, and other things we learned from this map

Mmmmm. Statistic-y. Image: Eurostat.

So there’s a map of Europe doing the rounds on the Twitters this morning, one which never ceases to fascinate me. There’s an extract of it above; the whole thing is shown below. It's from Eurostat, the European statistical agency, and it shows, basically, which bits of Europe are the richest.

The map breaks most of the continent into regions known as “NUTS 2 statistical units” (or, “Nomenclature of Territorial Units for Statistics 2 statistical units” for long), and colour codes them by a measure of economic activity, using data for 2014. In this case it’s GDP per capita (how much wealth is produced), expressed in purchasing power standards, or PPS (basically, how much that wealth will buy you in that bit of the world).

All of which is a long way of saying that the blue-ish bits of the map are generating enough money to be richer than the EU-28 average, while the red-ish bits of the map are poorer than it.

Some caveats, before we look at the map. Firstly, in some ways, NUTS 2 regions are bloody stupid. London is split into five of the things, while the whole of the Republic of Ireland gets just two.

This isn’t as silly as it first sounds – the former has nearly twice the population of the latter – but it’s probably a bit misleading to imagine that the British capital can be broken down into five discrete economic units, or that the Republic of Ireland contains just two. So we should be wary about how literally we take this colour-scheme.

The other thing to remember is: GDP per capita doesn’t tell us everything. Transfer payments exist. Rich regions can and do support poorer ones – through the EU structural funds (we’re going to miss those), and through things like welfare systems within countries. What’s more, a region composed entirely of loaded retired people would, I suspect, look pretty bad on this map, while actually having fairly good living standards.

But that’s enough caveats spoiling our fun, what can we learn from the map?

Let’s start with the “well, duh” stuff. Firstly, there’s a definite east/west divide: the ex-communist countries of eastern Europe are by-and-large poorer than the capitalist ones of the west.

There’s possibly a north/south divide too, but this is less pronounced than you’d expect: parts of northern Spain and Italy are doing alright, while parts of the Nordic region, and – especially – large chunks of the British Isles, are not.

Some of this can be explained by the second predictable element: cities are, mostly, richer. In those southern countries, it’s the regions around Madrid, Barcelona and Rome that are doing best. In France it’s Paris, in Finland it’s Helsinki, in east Germany it’s Berlin. That blue island in the red sea of Romania is Bucharest.


So far, so predictable. But other things are more surprising.

For one thing, there’s a sort of arc of prosperity reading from Italy northwards. At first this looks like the blue banana megalopolis we’ve banged on about before – except it isn’t, because the reason it’s called a banana is it curves past the low countries into Britain. Which this doesn’t.

In fact, Britain doesn’t come out that well on this map. South central England, East Anglia, Cheshire and the north East of Scotland (Aberdeen, basically) are the only bits of the UK above the EU average. Even Essex and Kent – places not short of rich London commuters – come in more at than 10 per cent poorer.

The UK is not alone in division. Italy’s north-south divide is as well known as ours (only upside down), but we talk rather less about the fact France and Spain also have radically different economies depending on which bits of them you go to.

Oh, and it’s very sweet the way they’ve boxed out Liechtenstein just so they can tell us they don’t have any data.

As I said at the top, we should be wary of over-interpreting this, for all sorts of reasons. But is clear is that, for all the government’s talk of booming Britain and sclerotic Europe, the UK is substantially poorer than large chunks of the continent: western Germany, northern Italy, Scandinavia and the low countries.

But it’s fine because Brexit means Brexit and we’re apparently going to make a success of it.

So anyway, to sum up, I think you ought to know I’m feeling very depressed.

You can see the whole map, with commentary from Eurostat, here.

Jonn Elledge is the editor of CityMetric. He is on Twitter, far too much, as @jonnelledge.

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A warped mirror: on gentrification and deprivation on London’s Caledonian Road

The London Overground crosses Caledonian Road. Image: Claude Lynch.

Capital cities are, more often than not, a focal point for the stark divide between rich and poor – places where the most economically deprived meet the most economically empowered. In London, these divides can be more than stark: they can be close, even intimate, and there are districts where crossing the street can be like entering a different world. One such street is the Caledonian Road.

Known local as “the Cally”, Caledonian Road runs for about a mile and a half, from Kings Cross to the Nags Head junction in Holloway, and was built in 1826 to provide a new arterial route to the north from the West End. At first, developments on the road were sparse; among the first notable buildings were the Royal Caledonian Asylum, which gave the road its name, and H.M. Prison Pentonville.

For some time, the northern half of the road was seen as far removed from central London, which stymied development. It wasn’t until the latter half of the 19th century residential development really got going. By the time Caledonian Road station opened on the Piccadilly line in 1906, the area was flush with Victorian terraces.

These, though, mainly lay on the eastern side. To the west, the proximity of King’s Cross prompted the development of heavy industry, particularly the clay kilns that were helping to build Victorian London proper. The divide had begun:  the east side of the street, the area known as Barnsbury, was notably quieter and calmer than the west side. Ever since the 19th century, the ‘V’ formed by Caledonian Road and York Way has been known for a high incidence of gang violence and social problems.

As in many parts of London, the end of the Second World War brought a chance to start from scratch. Many of the slums to the west of the Cally had been bombed to smithereens, and those that remained still lacked gas and hot water.

But this was the era of municipal dreams: Islington council cleared the slums and constructed the Bemerton Estate. Instead of reflecting the industrial history of the area, the estate reflected Barnsbury back at itself, treating Caledonian Road as some sort of warped modernist mirror. The square gardens of Barnsbury were reimagined as the spaces between the highrises of Bemerton, and this time, they were actually square.

The estate was immediately popular, its open design prompting a renewed sense of community in the west. But it didn’t last.

Square gardens on one side, not-so-square on the other. Image: Google Maps/CityMetric

As far back as the 1950s, Islington had already become synonymous with gentrification. Forty years later, before moving to Downing Street, Tony Blair’s London residence was Barnsbury’s leafy Richmond Crescent. House prices in the area have gone through the roof and now Barnsbury is mainly home to a the professional elite.


At the same time, though, Caledonian Road’s warped mirror has given Bemerton the exact opposite: in spite of attempts to rejuvenate it, downward spiral of deprivation and antisocial behaviour have blighted the estate for some time The promise of inviting square gardens and communal living has been inhibited by crime and poverty; the gardens lie empty, while those in Barnsbury thrive.

The disparity of wealth across Caledonian Road is regrettable. That’s not just because it speaks to a wider segregation of London’s rich and poor – a phenomenon exemplified last year by the Grenfell Tower fire in Kensington & Chelsea, the richest borough in Britain. It’s also because, in the Bemerton Estate, planners had thought they saw an opportunity to offer more Londoners the idyll of square gardens and leafy streets, often reserved for the richest.

It might be too much to claim the estate as a failure; events such as the Cally Festival aim to bring together both sides of the road, while other council programmes such as Islington Reads help to foster a greater sense of neighbourhood.

Road should never divide us; rather, they should unite those who live on either side. The spirit of Caledonian Road should cross the gap – just like the railway bridge that bears its name.