How is an ageing population changing urban Britain?

Pensioners in Brighton. Image: Getty.

British cities have grey weather, grey concrete, and increasingly, grey heads. People across the country are living longer, and this means the population of our cities are living longer too.

On average, most cities are younger than the rest of the country and will remain so. But a few cities are older than the rest of the country and are ageing fast – with big consequences for policy makers.

Ageing will change society’s needs, and will require more resources to be spent on pensions, healthcare, and social care. And this will have larger implications for some cities than others. The Centre for Cities’ Cities Outlook 2018 report offers some insight into population changes in UK cities over recent years.

But to get a better picture of how ageing will affect different places, it’s necessary to dig deeper into the data and to look at the share of the population in each city aged over 65 (notwithstanding the fact that some people work beyond retirement age).

Click to expand.

Currently 18 per cent of the UK’s population are aged 65 or over, compared to 15 per cent in UK cities. Some of these cities are especially young: 12 per cent of the population of Luton are over 65, while in Slough it is only 10 per cent. Interestingly the youngest cities tend to be southern inland cities (as shown by the smaller bubbles on the map).

But this isn’t the case everywhere. In total there are 19 cities which are older than the UK average. The oldest of these include Blackpool, Bournemouth, Worthing, Southend, Birkenhead, and Swansea – all smaller coastal cities.

Cities have also been ageing at different speeds over the last decade

Seven cities, such as Crawley, Brighton, Coventry, and Dundee, have surprisingly seen a decline in the share of people aged 65+ even as the country has aged. This has mainly been driven by large increases in those in younger age groups.

However, in the other 56 cities across the UK the share of people aged 65+ has increased, and in 22 cities this demographic has grown by two or more percentage points. This was led by Wigan (see the table below), where the share increased from 15 percent to 18.8 percent.

Click to expand. Source: NOMIS, Mid-year population estimates.

Of the cities that have seen the largest increase, there are two main trends. The first is the presence of a number of new towns in this group, such as Telford, Milton Keynes, Warrington and Basildon. Ageing in these places reflects in part a number of original movers to the new towns turning 65, and means they are now likely to be dealing with greater demand for adult social care than in the past.

The second is that in many places (which includes some new towns), the rise in the share of those aged 65+ was not only the result of an increase in the number of older people, but also because of a fall in the population aged 16-49. These are the largest, darkest bubbles on the map. This may reflect an underlying weakness in their economies, as younger people move elsewhere for job opportunities.


Policy implications

All cities will face greater funding demands as pressure on social care increases from a combination of an ageing population and budget cuts (as the infamous “Graph of Doom” shows). And the data above shows that this will be particularly acute in certain places.

In the short term the government has announced stop gap funding of £150m to spend on social care. But this doesn’t address the longer term growing pressures on services. Allowing local authorities to keep a greater share of their business rates is a potential longer term response, but will be more effective in places with stronger economies (such as Milton Keynes) than those with weaker ones (such as Wigan and Southend). If – as suggested above – weaker economies do experience faster ageing, the current system risks creating and widening inequalities between places in the quality of care.

Ultimately, government reform of social care is required to balance the funding demands of an ageing population between the taxpayer and wealthier pensioners. The politics of the situation make this difficult, of course. Indeed, the most recent proposal to reform social care lasted only four days, before being dropped by the Prime Minister Theresa May after being branded “the dementia tax”.

There has been little movement on this since, and the Chancellor Philip Hammond did not even mention social care once in the November budget. However, it is an issue which will only grow in urgency in over the coming years. And an answer will be needed if we are to avoid further Northamptonshire-style local authority financial calamities in the future.

Anthony Breach is an economic analyst at the Centre for Cities, on whose blog this post first appeared. 

 
 
 
 

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.