Can you spot the green belt on this map of housing supply increase?

How housing supply has changed in south east England since 2001. Image: Neal Hudson.

Okay everyone, who’s up for an invigorating game of “pin the green belt on the net change in housing supply map”?

The map above shows the change in the number of homes in every council in the south east of England between 2001 (when we didn’t have a housing crisis) and 2016 (when we emphatically did). It’s the work of Neal Hudson, an independent housing analyst, who got the data from this government dataset (table 125, if you’re interested).

Perhaps the biggest trend that jumps out on you is that there’s a ring of councils around London that have, let’s say, not done a great job of increasing their housing stock.

Further from London, the colours get darker as the numbers go up. A lot of inner London boroughs have done better, too: Tower Hamlets has managed more than 24 per cent; Islington, Hackney, Newham, Westminster and Southwark have all done over 18 per cent. (That tiny sliver of beige in west London, incidentally, is Kensington & Chelsea, the site of the Grenfell fire, which has barely built anything.)

Between those two, though, there are several dozen light yellow or beige boroughs, in outer London or in the commuter belt beyond it, representing only small increases in housing numbers.

Now what does that pattern remind me of?

The Green Belt. Image: Lower Thames Crossing Association.

Communities secretary Sajid Javid is soon expected to reveal plans which will force councils to increase their house building targets. That ring, Hudson argued, is very likely to be in his sights:

Is this enough new homes? Between 2001 and 2016, the UK’s population increased by around 12 per cent: at first glance, it looks like at least half of the councils on this map grew their housing stock by more than that (the three darker shades), so maybe things aren’t too bad.

And yet, that 12 per cent probably understates the population growth at this end of the country: as we’ve noted before, England’s fastest growing cities are all in the economically prosperous south.


What’s more, with a few exceptions in inner London, it tends to be the councils further from London that have done most to increase their housing stock. That’s a problem, for two reasons. One is that these councils had smaller populations to start with. A 20 per cent increase on a small number may be a lot less homes than an 8 per cent increase on a big one.

The other is that many of these new residents are likely to work in the capital, meaning long commutes, big carbon footprints and so on. The green belt is protecting the inner ring of commuter towns from sprawl, while loading it all onto places further out.

Oh yes – and consider that housing costs in the south have ballooned, of course. That suggests we’re not building enough homes, too.

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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A judge in Liverpool has recognised that the concept of ‘home’ exists even for the homeless

The most ironic stock image of homelessness in Britain available today. Image: Getty.

Stephen Gibney, a Liverpool man, was recently sentenced to eight weeks imprisonment for urinating on homeless man Richard Stanley, while he slept rough in Liverpool City Centre. District Judge Wendy Lloyd handed down the sentence not just for degrading Stanley as a person, but also for attacking his home. Justice Lloyd condemned the offence, calling it:

A deliberate act of degradation of a homeless person… it was his home, his little pitch where he was trying to establish himself as a human being… apparently, to you and your companion this was just a joke.

By recognising that a homeless person can have something akin to a home, the judge acknowledges that home is an abstract, nebulous and subjective idea – that the meaning of home can differ between people and contexts. People who are homeless in the legal sense often feel as if they have a home, whether that be a city, a particular neighbourhood, a family or a friendship group. Some even understand their home in connection to the land, or as a content state of mind.

By making these comments, Justice Lloyd affords Stanley the dignity of having a recognisable defensible space, marked out by his possessions, which to all intents and purposes is his home – and should be respected as such.

A changing city

Since the early 1980s, Liverpool has been undergoing economic, physical, social, political, reputational and cultural regeneration. These processes have picked up pace since 2003, when Liverpool was announced as the 2008 European Capital of Culture. This accolade proved to be the catalyst for a range of initiatives to clean up the city, ready for its big year.

Like many other cities across the globe – New York, during its 1990s drive to shake off its title of “murder capital of the world”; Sydney, in the run up to the 2000 Olympics and Glasgow in its preparations for its own European Capital of Culture year in 1990 – Liverpool’s authorities turned their attention to the city centre.

In Liverpool, rough sleepers, street drinkers and any other groups identified as “uncivilised” impediments to regeneration were singled out and subjected to a range of punitive measures, including the criminalisation of street drinking and begging, designed to clear them from view. It was all part of the bid to present the city as prosperous and cultured, and to free it of its previous reputation for poverty, crime and post-industrial decline.


Scorned, not supported

Views of rough sleepers as anathema to prosperity and progress stem from the false belief that they must, by definition, perform all bodily functions – from urination and defecation to sleep and sex – in public spaces rather than a private home. Because of this, rough sleepers are seen as uncivilised – and consequently unwelcome – by authorities determined to attract business and tourism.

This has led, in some quarters, to the vilification of “visible” homeless people – particularly where their homelessness is seen as a “lifestyle choice” – on the basis that they wilfully stand in the way of social, economic and cultural progress. They are a social element to be scorned, rather than supported: a view which may have led Gibney – a man with a home in the conventional sense – to perform the kind of bodily function on Stanley, which is more often unfairly attributed to rough sleepers.

Once it is recognised that the idea of “home” applies beyond a formal abode of bricks and mortar, many more violations come to light: from the clearance of informal settlements, to the enforced displacement of whole populations.

For example, consider the forced removal of the population of Diego Garcia, an atoll in the Indian Ocean, to nearby Mauritius because the US military needed a refuelling base. The phenomenon is so widespread that it has even been given a name – domicide. The “-cide” suffix connotes murder: the deliberate, calculated and wilful killing of a home.

The ConversationBy thinking of the destruction of “home” as an act of killing, we recognise the its true value – home means so much more than simply a place or a building. And, although the meaning of home varies from person to person, those who lose their home – for whatever reason – almost universally experience shock, grief and bereavement. Justice Lloyd’s comments on handing down Gibney’s sentence reflect two vital but overlooked truths: that home has meaning beyond bricks and mortar and that being homeless does not necessarily mean having no home at all.

Clare Kinsella, Senior Lecturer in Criminology, Edge Hill University.

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.