Which British cities will be hit hardest by Brexit?

Theresa May in Brussels in June. Image: Getty.

The latest instalment of our weekly series, in which we use the Centre for Cities’ data tools to crunch some of the numbers on Britain’s cities.

A lot of my time at work is given over to worrying fitfully about two things. One is cities policy. The other is Brexit.

What could be more thrilling, then, than a report which combines those two topics into a single piece of research? The answer, as it turns out, is almost anything, because this report is one of the most depressing things I’ve seen in ages.

The study, a joint effort between the Centre for Cities and LSE’s Centre for Economic Performance, looks at what both “Hard” and “Soft” Brexit would do to the economies of 62 British cities. (In the unlikely event you’re unsure, “soft” Brexit means we stay in a free trade area with the EU, but have to content with new non-tariff barriers; “hard” Brexit means we leave the free trade area and have to deal with tariffs as well.)

In either scenario, literally every city loses out. Only two cities – Crawley and Barnsley; neither exactly an economic powerhouse – would lose less than 1 per cent of GVA, a measure of productivity, even in the softer scenario.

The vast majority of cities will lose between 1 and 1.5 per cent of GVA under the Soft Brexit scenario. Worst affected would be Aberdeen, heart of the Scottish petrochemical industry which would lose 2.1 per cent. That’s about as much productivity as the UK as gained in its lost decade since 2006.

And this, remember, is in the gentler scenario. Should we have a Hard Brexit – the plan the British government seems to favour – the impact will be twice as bad, and vast majority of cities will be losing between 2 and 3 per cent of GVA.

Aberdeen, once again the hardest hit, would lose 3.7 per cent. Indeed, the ranking of cities doesn’t change much between soft and hard Brexit: seven cities make the top 10 under either scenario; seven more make the bottom 10. A harder Brexit will take a deeper gouge out of the British economy, but won’t change which cities are the worst afflicted.

Much of the debate around Brexit has had a “turkeys voting for Christmas” subtext to it: a suggestion that the areas that voted Leave would be those most likely to take a hit.

The CfC/CEP report shows that the picture is rather more nuanced than that. In both scenarios, the report says:

“...it is economically vibrant cities - predominantly in the South of England - which will be hit hardest and most directly by Brexit... In contrast, the cities least directly affected by either form of Brexit are mostly less prosperous places in the North, Midlands and Wales.”

That implies a couple of things. One is that it wasn’t turkeys voting for Christmas at all: by and large, those cities with the most to lose from Brexit were actually more likely to vote against it. The other is that, since it’ll be the richer cities which are hit hardest, the aggregate effect of Brexit might actually be worse than a simple average suggests.

That, though, is only the short term effect. The report also makes clear that the most affected cities are also the most resilient, and so the best-placed to respond to the shock. Poorer cities may be less vulnerable to the post-Brexit downturn; but they’ll also find it harder to bounce back.

Oh – and then there’s the matter of EU regional funds, which go overwhelmingly to poorer, more pro-Brexit areas, and which are incredibly unlikely to be replaced by the British government. But that’s another story.

 

Here’s a chart showing the predicted reduction in GVA in every city in the report (blue is under soft Brexit, red and blue combined is Hard Brexit). I’ve grouped them by region, to enable you to see how different parts of the country will be affected.

Click to expand.

Andrew Carter, the CfC’s chief executive, called on the government to “secure the best possible trade deal with the EU”:

“That means ensuring that our post-Brexit trading arrangements are as close to our current relationship with Europe as possible.”

“But it’s also critical that the government uses its forthcoming industrial strategy to give cities across the country the investment, powers and responsibilities they need to make their economies as successful and competitive as possible.”

Such a move would make sense: cities must be given as many tools as possible to deal with the shocks ahead. The fear, though, must be that Brexit will take up so much of the government’s time that devolution policy is basically off the table. Even if ministers still want to empower their cities – by no means certain, when you look at the rest of Theresa May’s agenda – it’s by no means clear that they have the capacity to do it.


You can read the full report here.

Jonn Elledge is the editor of CityMetric. He is on Twitter as @jonnelledge and also has a Facebook page now for some reason. 

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Park Life: On the repeated incineration of Alexandra Palace

Alexandra Palace from the air. Image: John Bointon/Wikimedia Commons.

Head directly north in a straight line from the official centre point of London at Charing Cross, and the first park of any real size you’ll hit is Alexandra Park. You’ll know you’re headed in the right direction when you spot the whacking great palace sat on the hill in the middle of it.

But Alexandra Palace and Park aren’t the former home of some forgotten bit of the nobility: they were actually purpose built for more or less their current use, as a venue for North Londoners to get up to a wide variety of things that may or may not be considered fun.

Various Victorians, including Owen Jones (presumably not him), one of the architects responsible for the Crystal Palace in the south, thought an equivalent in the north might be worthwhile, and used the same cost-saving manoeuvre: while the Crystal Palace had been built from the construction materials of the Great Exhibition, it’s northern counterpart used parts from the 1862 International Exhibition in Kensington.

Proving some kind of point, I guess.

Initially known as “the palace of the People”, it took on a marginal air of aristocracy when the park opened in 1863, the same year that the future King Edward VII married Alexandra of Denmark. The building opened in 1873, and copied Crystal Palace again, by almost immediately burning to the ground.


But two years later they’d nailed the bits back together and finally the people of North London had something to do other than complaining how long it’s going to take them to get to this birthday party in Peckham.

One of the more notable features of the next century or so of the park’s existence was its racecourse, known as The Frying Pan, because it looked a bit like a frying pan on whatever the Victorian equivalent of satellite photography is (balloon rides or imagining things, I guess). Popular for much of its life, attendances dwindled in the 1970s. Who wants to look at horses when television’s in colour now?

It was the favourite course of famous sexist and horse describer John McCririck – he’s been linked to efforts to get it rebuilt, and has instructed his wife to scatter his ashes on the site. Hopefully local residents will be warned so they can shut their windows first. Though the outline of the course is visible from above – the cricket pitch sits in the middle of it – It otherwise only survives in the names of a couple of now trendified gastro-pubs, the Victoria Stakes and the Starting Posts.

Early non-horse based physical activities available included going up in a balloon (mainly to draw pictures of what the race course looked like, presumably) and then jumping off the balloon while wearing a parachute if you were, for example, waitress turned daredevil Dolly Shepherd, commemorated in a mural on the side of the palace. There was also a lido, which legend states was used to wash visiting circus Elephants. It is unclear whether this is connected to the dubious cleanliness that to its demise by the early part of the last century.

Winter sports have been an unlikely intermittent features of the park: you prod the some of the undergrowth on one side of the hill, you might be able to uncover the remains of what was once London’s most popular dry ski slope, ideal for if you didn’t want to have to lie to all your friends about how much fun your first skiing holiday had been. Though long since defunct, in 1990 it gained a spiritual successor in the palace’s ice rink, which among other things has been home to various ice hockey teams, most recently the ‘Haringey Huskies’, it says here.

Less glamorous from this angle. Image: Ed Jefferson.

But back in the 1980s the palace and park were briefly threatened with being entirely sport-based. After the palace decided to have a belated centenary celebration and burn down again, there was a proposal to redevelop the whole thing into a massive sports complex, including – good news, snow haters – a brand new dry ski slope. In the end nothing came of it – the existing building was retained and most of the sport associated with the park now is of the indoor variety: among many other things, the palace hosts darts and table tennis tournaments.

The park does see a bit of the action. Aside from the football and cricket pitches, a popular brand of energising drink sponsors an annual soapbox race, and there’s a miniature golf course that makes up for being golf by a) being miniature and b) allowing you to drink while playing (well, if you book the whole thing for an office party circa 2011).

Sadly the park’s best sport of all has been retired: watching puce-faced CityMetric writers attempt to run to the top of the hill the palace sits on, while placing bets on whether they will reach the top before keeling over and dying (2015-2018).