Here are three planning problems currently crippling London – and some ideas on how to fix them

St. Paul’s, views of which matter more to policymakers than your ability to afford a house. Image: Getty.

London’s huge success as a place to live and do business has brought with it an overheated property market and sky high prices. And this has as much to do with planning as a lack of development.

London clearly needs to provide more residential and office space. Its housing market is already among the least affordable in the country (an average house is worth almost 17 times the average annual salary of a Londoner), and commercial prices are 2.3 times higher than the national average. And as the population is likely to grow by another 70,000 inhabitants each year, without speedy action, the situation will only get worse.

There are a number of planning policies that restrict urban growth and threaten the development of the capital. With demand to locate in London unlikely to abate any time soon, these policies increasingly threaten the economic success of the city, and the benefits they bring to the city are becoming questionable.

1. Protected sightlines

There are a number of protected panoramas, linear views, townscape views and other river prospects that cross over the capital. Many of them converge on St. Paul’s Cathedral and the Houses of Parliament, which makes tall buildings particularly difficult to develop in some parts of central London, despite being sought-after locations for businesses.

But protected sightlines can cause problems for development even beyond the restrictions. Last year locals from Richmond (south-west of London) protested against the approved building of a 42-storey tower in Stratford (which is about 18 miles away) on the grounds that, by appearing behind the Cathedral, it was damaging the protected view from Richmond Park to St. Paul’s.

2. The green belt

The green belt restricts land supply in the capital by preventing the city from expanding outwards. But containing growth within the city does not necessarily make it more compact. As our research shows, housing demand leapfrogs to the other side of the green belt, generating longer commutes and, ironically, higher environmental costs.

3. Permitted development rights

Contrary to the two previous points, permitted development rights (PDR) relax rather than restrict development, but this can create as many problems as it solves. Put simply, one feature of PDR is that it makes it easier to convert commercial space into residential units. In London, take-up of PDR has been high in some boroughs, with more than 10 per cent of the existing office stock in Sutton and Lewisham being converted into residential space since the policy was introduced in 2014, as shown on the map below.

Source: MHCLG, 2018; VOA, 2018. Note that the centre of London is exempted from permitted development rights which explains the null or low take up.

It is true that PDR conversions help to increase the housing stock in the capital. But where demand is very high, it can also threaten viable office space, in particular for smaller or more affordable premises, and can even disrupt the night time economy. That the London Plan encourages local authorities to apply for PDR exemption indicates the potential danger of the policy.

A fresh view on planning policies

Individually, all these policies have flaws, and collectively they make the task for London extremely difficult. The capital needs more houses and more offices, but there are no plans to build outwards – the mayor is committed not to build on the green belt – and there are restrictions on building upwards. This creates a shortage of available land for development, increasing land value and creating competition between residential and commercial uses – competition that usually flips in favour of residential use because of PDR.

In order to deliver more developments and respect its planning commitments, London’s current strategy is to densify and redevelop land, which in theory would allow the city to provide more houses and more office space without extending out. This is a welcome and necessary strategy, but it is unlikely to deliver enough to meet the urgent growth needs because densifying is difficult and takes time to achieve.


The best proof of this is that, by pursuing this strategy almost exclusively in recent years, London has consistently failed to meet its housing targets. Last year London boroughs delivered about 39,600 net new dwellings, below the existing target of 49,000 set up by the current London Plan, and significantly lower than the new 2017 Strategic Housing Market Assessment target of 66,000 per year.

So as pressure increases year on year, planning restrictions can no longer be preserved. The green belt and protected sightlines were created decades ago, at a time when land pressure was considerably less acute. But while the social and environmental considerations that led to implementing them at the time are more important than ever today, other social considerations – such as the right to affordable housing – must now be considered too.

In particular, strategic reviews of the green belt should be conducted with regards to current needs, and to subsequently release a limited, controlled amount of land for development. Given the context, this is the only way to provide enough new homes, preserve adequate commercial space and sustain London’s economy.

Hugo Bessis is a researcher for the Centre for Cities, on whose blog this article originally appeared.

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What does the fate of Detroit tell us about the future of Silicon Valley?

Detroit, 2008. Image: Getty.

There was a time when California’s Santa Clara Valley, bucolic home to orchards and vineyards, was known as “the valley of heart’s delight”. The same area was later dubbed “Silicon Valley,” shorthand for the high-tech combination of creativity, capital and California cool. However, a backlash is now well underway – even from the loyal gadget-reviewing press. Silicon Valley increasingly conjures something very different: exploitation, excess, and elitist detachment.

Today there are 23 active Superfund toxic waste cleanup sites in Santa Clara County, California. Its culture is equally unhealthy: Think of the Gamergate misogynist harassment campaigns, the entitled “tech bros” and rampant sexism and racism in Silicon Valley firms. These same companies demean the online public with privacy breaches and unauthorised sharing of users’ data. Thanks to the companies’ influences, it’s extremely expensive to live in the area. And transportation is so clogged that there are special buses bringing tech-sector workers to and from their jobs. Some critics even perceive threats to democracy itself.

In a word, Silicon Valley has become toxic.

Silicon Valley’s rise is well documented, but the backlash against its distinctive culture and unscrupulous corporations hints at an imminent twist in its fate. As historians of technology and industry, we find it helpful to step back from the breathless champions and critics of Silicon Valley and think about the long term. The rise and fall of another American economic powerhouse – Detroit – can help explain how regional reputations change over time.

The rise and fall of Detroit

The city of Detroit became a famous node of industrial capitalism thanks to the pioneers of the automotive age. Men such as Henry Ford, Horace and John Dodge, and William Durant cultivated Detroit’s image as a centre of technical novelty in the early 20th century.

The very name “Detroit” soon became a metonym for the industrial might of the American automotive industry and the source of American military power. General Motors president Charles E. Wilson’s remark that, “For years I thought what was good for our country was good for General Motors, and vice versa,” was an arrogant but accurate account of Detroit’s place at the heart of American prosperity and global leadership.

The public’s view changed after the 1950s. The auto industry’s leading firms slid into bloated bureaucratic rigidity and lost ground to foreign competitors. By the 1980s, Detroit was the image of blown-out, depopulated post-industrialism.

In retrospect – and perhaps as a cautionary tale for Silicon Valley – the moral decline of Detroit’s elite was evident long before its economic decline. Henry Ford became famous in the pre-war era for the cars and trucks that carried his name, but he was also an anti-Semite, proto-fascist and notorious enemy of organised labor. Detroit also was the source of defective and deadly products that Ralph Nader criticized in 1965 as “unsafe at any speed”. Residents of the region now bear the costs of its amoral industrial past, beset with high unemployment and poisonous drinking water.


A new chapter for Silicon Valley

If the story of Detroit can be simplified as industrial prowess and national prestige, followed by moral and economic decay, what does that say about Silicon Valley? The term “Silicon Valley” first appeared in print in the early 1970s and gained widespread use throughout the decade. It combined both place and activity. The Santa Clara Valley, a relatively small area south of the San Francisco Bay, home to San Jose and a few other small cities, was the base for a computing revolution based on silicon chips. Companies and workers flocked to the Bay Area, seeking a pleasant climate, beautiful surroundings and affordable land.

By the 1980s, venture capitalists and companies in the Valley had mastered the silicon arts and were getting filthy, stinking rich. This was when “Silicon Valley” became shorthand for an industrial cluster where universities, entrepreneurs and capital markets fuelled technology-based economic development. Journalists fawned over successful companies like Intel, Cisco and Google, and analysts filled shelves with books and reports about how other regions could become the “next Silicon Valley”.

Many concluded that its culture set it apart. Boosters and publications like Wired magazine celebrated the combination of the Bay Area hippie legacy with the libertarian individualism embodied by the late Grateful Dead lyricist John Perry Barlow. The libertarian myth masked some crucial elements of Silicon Valley’s success – especially public funds dispersed through the U.S. Defense Department and Stanford University.

The ConversationIn retrospect, perhaps that ever-expanding gap between Californian dreams and American realities led to the undoing of Silicon Valley. Its detachment from the lives and concerns of ordinary Americans can be seen today in the unhinged Twitter rants of automaker Elon Musk, the extreme politics of PayPal co-founder Peter Thiel, and the fatuous dreams of immortality of Google’s vitamin-popping director of engineering, Ray Kurzweil. Silicon Valley’s moral decline has never been clearer, and it now struggles to survive the toxic mess it has created.

Andrew L. Russell, Dean, College of Arts & Sciences; Professor of History, SUNY Polytechnic Institute and Lee Vinsel, Assistant Professor of Science and Technology Studies, Virginia Tech.

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