“Is not-London the new London?” What England and its capital can learn from one another

Was this man so wrong? The Samuel Johnson statue in Lichfield. Image: Elliot Brown/Flickr/creative commons.

The novelist AL Kennedy recently said that “being out of London is the new being in London”. Ironically we were both moving to the same place for largely the same reasons, though my exit was less newsworthy and (possibly, who knows?) more agonised.

And it seems that those we'd categorise as thinking people have to consider their reasons for leaving London. We may decry gentrification, pollution, the struggle of managing children. And, after we have emotionally and physically extracted ourselves from this “problem”, we await a better life on the outside, in whatever “like London but without the bad bits” location we have chosen.

Yet nagging doubts claw away at our consciousness. Practically each and every article on the topic references Samuel Johnson's “when a man is tired of London he is tired of life” quote, and so we feel a need to justify our actions. Life will be much the same, we say, just in a bigger house and fresher air, as we rampage around the countryside elevating house prices, only to then feel culturally displaced and alien.

Because, if the EU Referendum vote told us anything, it was that there is a huge symbolic gulf between London and the rest. London is hated for its imagined wealth, the volume of foreigners who reside in it, and its cultural cosmopolitanism. And London hates England because of its assumed backwards-looking parochialism. But all this is just a projection. The two are more similar than they’d like to believe – and making England more like London and London more like England could radically change the fortunes of this troubled island.

So why should England become more like London? London is incomparable for sheer hyperactive energy. Everything gets used – time, people, buildings. Businesses are continually being set up, new restaurants appearing. Innovation is central to the London environment. Want to set up a multi-use space where creatives chat over coffee by day and musicians play a gig by night? Great, just don’t try it in Zone 1.


Arguably, this dynamism happens because of the impact of the City of London, financing hipster businesses to revalorise a locale. But it is more than that. London has, first with reluctance and then with enthusiasm, embraced immigration, and consequently, it has revitalised our culture, our high streets, our food, and our economy. Diversity acts upon the brain in such a way that we get used to considering differences between people, thus increasing our empathy as well as our ability to handle complex information. It gives us ideas, big ideas, just like those migrants who were brave enough to travel across countries, continents and seas for an outstretched dream.

Compare that to not-London, where I am surprised by the sheer wastage of people, buildings and places. Older women and men, incredibly talented and imaginative, not engaged in productive activity of any kind. Young people criticised for anti-social behaviour when the reality is there’s nothing cool to do. Mothers, raising their kids wonderfully but outside of paid employment, all the while feeling bored and unmotivated. Poor wages and expensive houses; small parks and playgrounds. Immigrants, still energetically trying to build new lives, isolated and often ghettoised by an unforgiving racism.

And still locals mutter about there being too many people in their spacious towns and villages, with driveways and garages. Lonely people and empty streets. Incredible buildings not yet converted into an art gallery, bar, restaurant or home. Art galleries built in a fit of over-achievement that lay fallow and rejected. It is wasteful and gives a lie to the brave new world promised by English Brexiteers.

For the most part, in London, councils have set aside parochial considerations to boost development and creative activity, either through flagship projects or seeding. They build relationships. They aren’t always successful, and sometimes the make decisions which are downright socially unjust. They struggle with implicit corruption. But even the most entrenched local boroughs get it eventually, after sustained assaults on its fortresses by activists and entrepreneurs.

The other side

In the zone of not-London, progress is always sluggish, and councils seem reluctant to let go of the shibboleths of large-scale housing developments, roads and supermarkets. Frankly, it is hard for them to do anything, without being weighed down by the population’s conservative muttering and resistance to any change.

But looking at it from the other side – how London should be more like England – another picture emerges. Consider London’s vast swathes of poor, left to rot in sub-standard housing and moments away from being cast out beyond the city walls. And it has a fair percentage of mothers, older people, disabled people, and so on, with underutilised skills.

Nor is London is as welcoming to immigrants and each other as it claims. Jock Young once referred to London as a place of “lightly engaged strangers,” while Tim Butler argued relationships between ethnicities in London were “tectonic”, meaning coexisting in segregation, even if we do live on the same street. We all know the narratives about the isolationism of hipster entrepreneurialism, but it applies more broadly. We live in the same place, but do we speak across the garden fence? Perhaps London could learn from the civility of the English village, but apply it to a multicultural context instead.

The rat race in action: London Bridge. Image: Getty.

Time is lost in London like a running stream. Merely getting from one place to another to see a doctor, dentist, or even do the shopping takes hours of your time. And in London too, prising people out of their cars is seemingly akin to trying to hack off their arm from their body, with devastating consequences for health (for the ageing, the elderly, the infirm, children).

London is too tightly packed for sanity and could benefit from the size, looser spatial frames and amenities of not-London. Not everyone wants to embrace the city and all it can offer, but they are forced there because of work or the racialised prejudices of elsewhere. Too many people in the capital know nothing beyond their neighbourhood and fear the outside. Just as England fears London, so London fears England.

And its commercialism has pretty much done for its subculture – the London I knew as a mardy teenager – judging by the ongoing closure of clubs and pubs. In the zone of not-London, eccentricity abounds, even if it is homeless.

London is not the Promised Land, though it is a hugely important social experiment. The debates we are having represent our very skewed culture where the imposed reality is, on the one side, overwork and hyperactivity, and on the other, under activity and waste. 

There needs to be a redistribution of economic activity so that London does and contains less, and England – the not-London – does more. But that implies the regions should try to create more to entice young people to stay. It means more cultural entrepreneurialism and other hipster amenities, and less bucolic countryside preserved in aspic. More Richard Florida and less Jane Austin. Local governments need to encourage culture, economic activity and regeneration more effectively, to lead, not follow – or worse, disrupt. And yes, sometimes people from elsewhere can show us how. Maybe it’s time we stopped complaining and listened.

So is not-London the new London? It could be if people and governments allowed themselves to become more porous. But we are still a long way from that, and, with an impending Brexit led by Randian ideologues and nouveau fascists, aided by a large dose of incompetency, it feels like an ever more distant ideal.

Deborah Talbot is an ethnographer and journalist specialising in culture, society and all things urban.

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Green roofs improve cities – so why don’t all buildings have them?

The green roof at the Kennedy Centre, Washington DC. Image: Getty.

Rooftops covered with grass, vegetable gardens and lush foliage are now a common sight in many cities around the world. More and more private companies and city authorities are investing in green roofs, drawn to their wide-ranging benefits which include savings on energy costs, mitigating the risk from floods, creating habitats for urban wildlife, tackling air pollution and urban heat and even producing food.

A recent report in the UK suggested that the green roof market there is expanding at a rate of 17 per cent each year. The world’s largest rooftop farm will open in Paris in 2020, superseding similar schemes in New York City and Chicago. Stuttgart, in Germany, is thought of as “the green roof capital of Europe”, while Singapore is even installing green roofs on buses.

These increasingly radical urban designs can help cities adapt to the monumental challenges they face, such as access to resources and a lack of green space due to development. But buy-in from city authorities, businesses and other institutions is crucial to ensuring their success – as is research investigating different options to suit the variety of rooftop spaces found in cities.

A growing trend

The UK is relatively new to developing green roofs, and governments and institutions are playing a major role in spreading the practice. London is home to much of the UK’s green roof market, mainly due to forward-thinking policies such as the 2008 London Plan, which paved the way to more than double the area of green roofs in the capital.

Although London has led the way, there are now “living labs” at the Universities of Sheffield and Salford which are helping to establish the precedent elsewhere. The IGNITION project – led by the Greater Manchester Combined Authority – involves the development of a living lab at the University of Salford, with the aim of uncovering ways to convince developers and investors to adopt green roofs.

Ongoing research is showcasing how green roofs can integrate with living walls and sustainable drainage systems on the ground, such as street trees, to better manage water and make the built environment more sustainable.

Research is also demonstrating the social value of green roofs. Doctors are increasingly prescribing time spent gardening outdoors for patients dealiong with anxiety and depression. And research has found that access to even the most basic green spaces can provide a better quality of life for dementia sufferers and help prevent obesity.

An edible roof at Fenway Park, stadium of the Boston Red Sox. Image: Michael Hardman/author provided.

In North America, green roofs have become mainstream, with a wide array of expansive, accessible and food-producing roofs installed in buildings. Again, city leaders and authorities have helped push the movement forward – only recently, San Francisco created a policy requiring new buildings to have green roofs. Toronto has policies dating from the 1990s, encouraging the development of urban farms on rooftops.

These countries also benefit from having newer buildings, which make it easier to install green roofs. Being able to store and distribute water right across the rooftop is crucial to maintaining the plants on any green roof – especially on “edible roofs” which farm fruit and vegetables. And it’s much easier to create this capacity in newer buildings, which can typically hold greater weight, than retro-fit old ones. Having a stronger roof also makes it easier to grow a greater variety of plants, since the soil can be deeper.


The new normal?

For green roofs to become the norm for new developments, there needs to be buy-in from public authorities and private actors. Those responsible for maintaining buildings may have to acquire new skills, such as landscaping, and in some cases volunteers may be needed to help out. Other considerations include installing drainage paths, meeting health and safety requirements and perhaps allowing access for the public, as well as planning restrictions and disruption from regular ativities in and around the buildings during installation.

To convince investors and developers that installing green roofs is worthwhile, economic arguments are still the most important. The term “natural capital” has been developed to explain the economic value of nature; for example, measuring the money saved by installing natural solutions to protect against flood damage, adapt to climate change or help people lead healthier and happier lives.

As the expertise about green roofs grows, official standards have been developed to ensure that they are designed, built and maintained properly, and function well. Improvements in the science and technology underpinning green roof development have also led to new variations on the concept.

For example, “blue roofs” increase the capacity of buildings to hold water over longer periods of time, rather than drain away quickly – crucial in times of heavier rainfall. There are also combinations of green roofs with solar panels, and “brown roofs” which are wilder in nature and maximise biodiversity.

If the trend continues, it could create new jobs and a more vibrant and sustainable local food economy – alongside many other benefits. There are still barriers to overcome, but the evidence so far indicates that green roofs have the potential to transform cities and help them function sustainably long into the future. The success stories need to be studied and replicated elsewhere, to make green, blue, brown and food-producing roofs the norm in cities around the world.

Michael Hardman, Senior Lecturer in Urban Geography, University of Salford and Nick Davies, Research Fellow, University of Salford.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.