This map shows how Europe's population changed and shifted in the first decade of the 21st century

An extract from the BBSR's map of Europe's changing population.

Immigration – I know this sounds unlikely, but bear with us a moment here – is in the news rather a lot at the moment.

For one thing, there's the Mediterranean migrant crisis, which EU leaders are meeting to discuss this week. Then there's the non-stop thrill ride of Britain's debate over whether or not it's a good idea to alienate the entirety of the continent just across the English Channel; one of the main arguments put forward by the Eurosceptic and definitely not racist right-wing party UKIP is that pulling out of Europe would give us back control of our borders.


This, though, isn't the only demographic story playing out in Europe at the moment. While Britain debates how to handle population growth, other countries are facing a crisis brought on by emigration and falling birth rates – a gradual depopulation of the sort that could utterly wreck welfare systems.

What this movement of people looks like across an entire continent can be hard to visualise. Lucky, then, that someone has done it for us.

To be specific, it's the good people of the Bundesinstitut für Bau-, Stadt- und Raumforschung – or, if your German's a bit rusty, the Federal Institute for Research on Building, Urban Affairs & Spatial Development.

The BBSR, as all the hepcats of Germany's sexy young demographic forecasting community like to call it, has produced a map, showing how the population of every municipality in Europe (LAU2 units, to use the technical name) changed between 2001 and 2011.

The colours represent average annual population change. The three shades of red represent growth (light pink up to 1 per cent, darker pink 1-2 per cent; dark red 2 per cent or over); the three shades of blue represent the same figures, except with a minus sign in front of them. Yellow areas are basically stable.

Here's the map:

The BBSR highlighted some of its findings in a statement accompanying the map. (It's in German, and our German is pretty rusty, too, so we're relying on internet translation tools. But you get the sense, at least.)

Especially in the countries of Eastern and Southern Europe, the population has declinded significantly... Growing and shrinking populations are sometimes right next to each other, for example in the German-Polish border regions...

Many regions in western Europe, however, show strong gains [in population] – in France, England and the Benelux countries, many areas recorded growth in population.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, one of the clearest trends shown on the map is the shift to the cities:

Cities and suburban municipalities reported rising population figures in almost all countries. In many countries, especially in eastern Europe, they are the only growth regions. In the Baltic states and in Bulgaria, growth is concentrated in the capital regions.

(Emphasis ours.)

The notes also highlight the "spiderweb" growth of London, affecting not just the city proper but axes radiating out from it. It's a sign that London's functional economic area extends beyond the city proper and along major commuter rail routes.

Some other trends we've spotted:

  • The Scandinavians seem to be moving south – though we suspect this is a function of urbanisation, rather than a response to the weather.
  • The Mediterranean coasts are getting more populated, too. Look at north eastern Spain, northern Italy, or even Turkey.

  • Germany is facing significant depopulation – a trend that's especially pronounced in the old communist-controlled part of the country.
  • Last but not least, check out the north of Scotland. That's the Aberdeen oil boom right there.

EDIT TO ADD: On Twitter, David Freeborn has noted another trend that we missed:

@CityMetric A beautiful trend you didn't mention: suburbanisation in Poland as people move from old Communist-era inner cities to suburbs.

— DavidPWFreeborn (@DPWF0) June 16, 2015

He's not wrong.

You can see the map, with official commentary, in German, here.

 
 
 
 

Does it matter that TfL are renaming White Hart Lane station Tottenham Hotspur?

New White Hart Lane. Image: Getty.

Pretend for a moment that you’re travelling in the London of 1932. You’re taking the Piccadilly Line northbound and alight at Gillespie Road station. The name should be obvious: it’s inscribed in bespoke brown tiling on the platform.

But that 31 October, following an intense campaign by the eponymous football club, the London County Council changed the station’s name to Arsenal (Highbury Hill). The area’s growing association with the name “Arsenal” ended in a lengthy negotiation that changed maps, signs and train tickets alike. Football had acquired so much power that it changed the name of not just a Tube station but an entire suburb, even before the era of Wenger or the Emirates.

Now the spectre of name changes is on the horizon once again. As Tottenham Hotspur FC inches closer to completing its new stadium, the club is clamouring for a renamed Overground station. Despite the fact the new stadium is located on almost exactly the same site as the old just off White Hart Lane, and fans have long been calling the scaffolding-laden mess “New White Hart Lane”, the club’s executive director is adamant that the station’s existing name cannot stand. White Hart Lane station, on the Overground line leaving Liverpool Street, is set to be renamed “Tottenham Hotspur”, at a cost to the club of £14.7m.

Little has been made of the fact that this peculiar PR kerfuffle is tied to Spurs’ failure to convince Nike to sponsor the venue. Some sources have even claimed that the sponsorship is yet to be finalised because it is somehow contingent on the renaming of the Overground station; beyond the ridiculous Johnson-era vanity project that was the Emirates Air Line, it seems improbable that TfL will allow any more corporate-flavoured information pollution. There will be no “Nike Stadium” station on the way to Enfield, much as there is no “Emirates” on the way to Cockfosters, especially if public consultation gets a look in.

The scene of the crime. Image: TfL.

But there’s a problem with the new name, all the same. “White Hart Lane” already means “football stadium”, in the same way Loftus Road or Stamford Bridge do. Changing it to “Tottenham Hotspur” risks opening the floodgates to an “O2 North Greenwich” or a “Virgin Euston” at some point in future, names as banal as there are dystopian. The Greater London Authority has promised to spend the £14.7m fee on community programmes in the local area – but that’s not much money to set the precedent that a private company can mess about with the Tube map.


What’s more, as CityMetric has often observed, there are plenty of station names across London that could do with a tidy up. Picking one that’s perfect already and asking for £14.7m to change it is adding insult to injury. How much would it cost a community group if they asked to change the name of Goodge Street to Fitzrovia? Why does a vast corporate entity backed by international sponsors and thousands of season ticket holders get to set the standard?

Back in Arsenal’s day, changing names on the Tube must have been easy; changes could be accommodated gradually without bothering the every day traveller. But in our world of online information, maps and apps, name changes are rather more complicated.

The question is – if TfL can bring itself to balefully accept this particular proposition, why can’t it accept ours? Why sort out a single non-issue on the Tube Map when you can catch lots of real ones in one go? A day’s pandemonium might just be a price worth paying to fix the Bethnal Greens problem once and for all.