What’s the largest parliamentary constituency in the world?

Geraldton is one of the more bustling urban centres in the Division of Durack. Image: Terrance Doust/Wikimedia Commons.

Australia recently had an election, a sentence that, from my fairly limited understanding of Australian politics, is almost always true. It provided the latest of those shock result that this decade’s politics seems to specialise in, with the right-wing government unexpectedly surviving and the left-wing opposition looking at a bit baffled in a “What else were we supposed to do?” kind of a way.

But the result wasn’t the thing that impressed me about it. What got me was the size of the constituencies.

Australia, remember, is huge, in a way that’s difficult to conceive of as a European. Perth is over 2,000 miles from Sydney – a distance that’s far enough to take you from London to Syria or Mali. But there aren’t quite 25 million people in Australia, well under half the population of the UK, and they tend to cluster in a few areas around the coast.

Consequently the country contains a lot of empty space. Which means that when the Australian Electoral Commission came up with boundaries for its parliamentary seats, this happened:

Whoa. Image: Australian Electoral Commission.

The six seats coloured on that map between them cover 6.1m km2 of Australia’s 8.0m km2. The other 146 seats get less than a quarter of the country’s landmass between them.

How big are we talking here? Well the largest of them is the Division of Durack, which covers 1.63m km2 – nearly two-thirds of the state of Western Australia. There is no European country that comes even close to being that size (unless you count Russia, which cheats by including a large chunk of Asia). This is an area three times the size of France. And it delivers one MP.

Wowser. Image: Barrylb/Wikimedia Commons.

Is it the largest constituency in the world, though?

Before getting into that, let’s provide some more context. The UK has a landmass of around 242,000km2 (or, not quite one sixth of Durack). The House of Commons has 650 constituencies. So the average UK parliamentary seat covers an area of around 373km2, which means you could get around 4,300 of the buggers into Durack.

There’s quite a lot of variation within that, though. The smallest constituency is Jeremy Corbyn’s own Islington North, which is just 7.4km2. The largest is rather bigger: Ross, Skye & Lochaber, a huge swathe of Highlands and islands, which is a relatively big 12,000km2, or well over a thousand times bigger.

Ross, Skye & Lochaber. Image: Wereon./Wikimedia Commons.

It’s still well over a thousand times smaller than Durack, though – so where might we find something bigger?


It’s tempting to look to the European Parliament on the grounds it covers most of a continent, but we instantly run into two issues. One is that most of its constituencies are multi-member PR ones, which feels like cheating. Another is that the biggest of them are entire European countries – and we already know that Durack is substantially bigger than all of those. The largest by area turns out to be France, which elects 79 MEPs and still only manages to be a third the size. So, that’s out.

One possibility is Alaska which, being a huge state with a tiny population, sends just one member to the US House of Representatives. I sort of assumed that was going to be my conclusion to this piece, on the grounds that Alaska is huge: to be specific, 1.72m km2. That’s slightly bigger than Durack, if by “slightly bigger” you mean “by an area large enough you could keep Portugal in it”.

Even that, though, isn’t the biggest. Canada is enormous – the second biggest country in the world by area – but most of its population lives hard by the southern border, leaving a vast wilderness in the north.

In that wilderness, you will find Nunavut, a federal election district which sends a single member to the House of Commons of Canada. It has an area of 1.88m km2.

The frozen north. Image: EOZyo/Wikimedia Commons.

That is, you will notice, bigger than Durack. It’s also, so far as much of the internet seems to think, the biggest electoral constituency in the world.

Except I think much of the internet is wrong.

Canada, remember, is only the second biggest country by area on the planet. The biggest is Russia. And leaving aside questions about what exactly counts as a democracy, Russia does hold elections to the Duma.

Those elections are fairly complicated: there’s a two-tier system, in which 225 of members are elected on a proportional, Russia-wide basis, and the other half represent specific constituencies. But nonetheless, that means there are 225 constituencies in Russia which elect a single representative to the country’s parliament.

The motherland: Yakutsk is in orange on the right. Image: Galmar/Wikmiedia Commons.

The biggest of these, best one can tell, is Yakutsk, which covers the entirety of the Sakha Republic, in Russia’s far east. That is bigger than Durack. A lot bigger. It covers an area of 3.1m km2. Which is very big indeed: nearly as big as India, but with roughly a billion fewer people.

It’s quite difficult to think of a profound conclusion to all this, so let’s end on an old favourite. This is one of the most mind-blowing maps I’ve ever seen. As many people live in the area coloured blue – which, not coincidentally, contains all the giant constituencies we’ve discussed in this piece – as live in the area coloured red (Bangladesh and a couple of Indian states).

Wow. Image: Ibisdigitalmedia.

The world is mostly empty.

You can read more about that last map here.

Jonn Elledge is editor of CityMetric and the assistant editor of the New Statesman. He is on Twitter as @jonnelledge and on Facebook as JonnElledgeWrites.

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There isn’t a war on the motorist. We should start one

These bloody people. Image: Getty.

When should you use the horn on a car? It’s not, and anyone who has been on a road in the UK in living memory will be surprised to hear this, when you are inconvenienced by traffic flow. Nor is it when you are annoyed that you have been very slightly inconvenienced by another driver refusing to break the law in a manner that is objectively dangerous, but which you perceive to be to your advantage.

According to the Highway Code:

“A horn should only be used when warning someone of any danger due to another vehicle or any other kind of danger.”

Let’s be frank: neither you nor I nor anyone we have ever met has ever heard a horn used in such a manner. Even those of us who live in or near places where horns perpetually ring out due to the entitled sociopathy of most drivers. Especially those of us who live in or near such places.

Several roads I frequently find myself pushing a pram up and down in north London are two way traffic, but allow parking on both sides. This being London that means that, in practice, they’re single track road which cars can enter from both ends.

And this being London that means, in practice, that on multiple occasions every day, men – it is literally always men – glower at each other from behind the steering wheels of needlessly big cars, banging their horns in fury that circumstances have, usually through the fault of neither of them, meant they are facing each other on a de facto single track road and now one of them is going to have to reverse for a metre or so.

This, of course, is an unacceptable surrender as far as the drivers’ ego is concerned, and a stalemate seemingly as protracted as the cold war and certainly nosier usually emerges. Occasionally someone will climb out of their beloved vehicle and shout and their opponent in person, which at least has the advantages of being quieter.

I mentioned all this to a friend recently, who suggested that maybe use of car horns should be formally restricted in certain circumstances.

Ha ha ha. Hah.

The Highway Code goes on to say -

“It is illegal to use a horn on a moving vehicle on a restricted road, a road that has street lights and a 30 mph limit, between the times of 11:30 p.m. and 07:00 a.m.”

Is there any UK legal provision more absolutely and comprehensively ignored by those to whom it applies? It might as well not be there. And you can bet that every single person who flouts it considers themselves law abiding. Rather than the perpetual criminal that they in point of fact are.


In the 25 years since I learned to drive I have used a car horn exactly no times, despite having lived in London for more than 20 of them. This is because I have never had occasion to use it appropriately. Neither has anyone else, of course, they’ve just used it inappropriately. Repeatedly.

So here’s my proposal for massively improving all UK  suburban and urban environments at a stroke: ban horns in all new cars and introduce massive, punitive, crippling, life-destroying fines for people caught using them on their old one.

There has never been a war on motorists, despite the persecution fantasies of the kind of middle aged man who thinks owning a book by Jeremy Clarkson is a substitute for a personality. There should be. Let’s start one. Now.

Phase 2 will be mandatory life sentences for people who don’t understand that a green traffic light doesn’t automatically mean you have right of way just because you’re in a car.

Do write in with your suggestions for Phase 3.