Protectionism is bad when Trump does it – so why is it so often welcomed by British cities?

Protectionist in chief, Donald J. Trump. Image: Getty.

Do we stand on the verge of a new trade war? In light of competition from elsewhere, the drawbridge is being pulled up to shelter local industry from these malevolent foreign forces. And that, argue some policy makers, is going to help keep money in the economy and create jobs.

I’m not talking about Donald Trump, steel and whiskey. I’m talking instead about the idea of councils buying their goods and services locally, an idea that has been dubbed ‘Corbynomics’ and has Preston as its poster child. But the parallels are striking.

In recent years Preston City Council in particular has been active in increasing its spend on local businesses, giving them preference over suppliers from elsewhere. This has brought both curiosity from some policy makers and strong support from others, with John McDonnell describing this brand of ‘municipal socialism’ as the kind of radicalism needed across the country.

What is curious though is how differently policies promoting protectionism are viewed at the local and national level. The lines against international trade barriers are well rehearsed, and Donald Trump has been roundly criticised for his approach, with even his economic advisor quitting over it. And yet paradoxically protectionism is welcomed at the local level, somehow viewed as a defence for small businesses rather than the same politics of populism.


The same applies to the idea of local currencies. There are a number of local currencies in the UK, such as the Exeter and Bristol (tagline “Our city. Our money”) and pounds. The principle is that they support independent businesses by encouraging people to shop locally – in a war of David (local independents) versus Goliath (big national or multinational companies), it is argued that these policies help level the playing field. Of course, this is exactly the argument that Trump makes about US steel (David) and China (Goliath).

The struggles of the US steel industry are unlikely to be down to unfair trade practices, nor the deluge of cheap Chinese products. (Chinese steel accounts for just 2 per cent of all steel imports into the USA.) Similarly, the challenges that weaker city economies face have little to do with local authorities spending their budgets with companies outside their areas, nor people choosing to buy from Amazon rather than their local high street. Instead these struggles are caused by the ability of places to attract high-skilled investment into their economies, and the ability of these businesses to ‘export’ their wares to a regional, national or international market. This is caused by a number of issues, of which low skills of the workforce is chief amongst them.

So as US trade tariffs have been criticised by many, we must also view protectionist policies at the local level in light of the same criticism. Successful cities are ones that are open to business, irrespective of where these businesses are based. We should be encouraging them to increase trade, not shut it down.

Paul Swinney is head of policy & research at the Centre for Cities, on whose blog this article first appeared.

You can hear him discuss these issues on a recent episode of Skylines, the CityMetric podcast.

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Here’s how Copenhagen puts cyclists at the top of the social hierarchy

A cyclist in Copenhagen, obviously. Image: Red Bull/Getty.

Have you ever wondered why Britain is not a nation of cyclists? Why we prefer to sit in traffic as our Dutch and Danish neighbours speed through the city on bikes?

Forget about hills, rain, and urban sprawl: the real reason we aren’t cycling is much closer to home. It is not just lack of infrastructure, or lack of fitness, the reason that 66 per cent of Brits cycle less than once a year, is because of status.

An obsession with social status is hard-wired into our brains. As we have built a society that relies on cars, the bicycle has slipped to the periphery, and gone from being regarded as a sensible mode of transport, to a deviant fringe-dwellers choice.

Even though cycling to work has been shown to be one of the most effective things an individual can do to improve health and longevity, researcher David Horton thinks that there are a set of collective anxieties that are stopping us getting in the saddle. These include not just an unwillingness to be made vulnerable, but fear of being thought of as poor.

A quick look over the North Sea shows that there is an alternative. Danish culture has elevated cycling to the point of reverence, and the social status of cyclists has followed. As we have busied ourselves building infrastructure that testifies to the dominance of the car, Denmark has been creating magnificent architectural features, aimed specifically at bike users. The Cycle Snake, or Cykelslangen, literally suspends the cyclist above the city, metaphorically elevating the cyclist and creating a sense of ceremony.

In doing so, they are subtly persuading people of all backgrounds to see past their prejudices or fears and take it up as the clearly better choice. This means there are more women cycling, more older people cycling, and more ethnic minorities cycling. The activity is less dominated by comfortably middle class white males: there are cyclists from every side of the community.  

The Cykelslangen, under construction in 2014. Image: Ursula Bach and Dissing+Weitling architecture.

Despite abstract motivations like getting ripped and conquering global warming, it is only when the bike path becomes the obviously better choice that people will start to cycle. It can take years of traffic jams before people try an alternative, but if you make motorists jealous of cyclists, then the tables can quickly turn.

Another way that Copenhagen has done this is by taking privileges normally afforded only to the motorcar, and given them to the bike. The city has ensured that cycle routes do not include blind corners or dark tunnels, and that they form a complete, coherent network, and a steadily flowing system – one that allows cyclists to maintain a reasonable pace, and minimises the amount of times you have to put your foot down.

The ‘Green Wave’, for example, is a co-ordinated traffic light system on some of the main thoroughfares of the capital that helps minimise the amount of cycle congestion during peak times. It maintains a steady flow of cycle traffic, so that there is no need to stop at any point.


Small measures of prioritisation like this one increase the sense of safety and consideration that cyclists experience, making it natural for the citizens of a city to act in their own self-interest and get on their bike.

As well as redefining the streets around the bicycle, the Copenhagen Cycle Chic blog positively fetishises cyclists. The tagline “dress for your destination, not your journey” depicts the social fashion life of the cycle lane as a “never ending flow of happy people heading from A to B”. Its writers are  literally making cycling sexy, dispelling the idea that going anywhere by bike is odd, and helping the world to see that the bicycle is actually the ultimate fashion accessory.

So unlike in London, where cycling is still a predominantly male pursuit, Copenhagen sees a more even split between men and women. Not just because they feel safer on the roads, but because culturally they are comfortable with their appearance as part of a highly visible group.

So while our low level of cycling is partly due to our physical infrastructure, it is also due to our cultural attitudes. The mental roadblocks people have towards cycling can be overcome by infrastructure that is not only safe, but also brings old-fashioned notions of dignity and grace into the daily commute.

Of course, office shower facilities might stop cyclists being ostracised, too.