When does a town become a city? On Croydon, and the mysteries of official British city status

Croydon, city of dreams. Image: author provided.

When you think of the great cities of history what springs to mind? Alexandria? Benin? Rome? Croydon?

For over half a century now, Greater London’s ugly duckling, has been trying in vain to secure city status in an attempt to improve its decidedly negative reputation. Since 1951, Croydon’s applications for city status has been repeatedly overlooked by the Home Office. Most recently, the south London borough was knocked back in favour of St Asaph, a small Welsh community home to 3,355 residents – a figure that pales in comparison to Croydon’s 379, 759. All this raises the question, what makes a town a city?

This is a question the British government has grappled with for centuries. It has always been the prerogative of the monarch to bestow city status; in more recent times, this decision has been informed by reports from the Home Office. But, much to the distress of town councils across the country, the process has always seemed arcane and secretive.

For example: a rumour persisted well into the 20th century that the presence of a cathedral was required in order for a town to be considered for elevation. This association was established when Bristol, Chester, Gloucester, Oxford and Peterborough were all elevated to the status of a city, at the same time as they were chosen as the seats of new dioceses by Henry VIII.

But this practice came to an end in 1889 when Birmingham was a successful applicant for city status on account of its large population and history of good government.

With this precedent broken it was decided that a new criteria would have to be adopted and rigorously enforced and, in 1907, the Home Office and Edward VII came to a secret agreement on a policy which remains in place today. The policy dictated that for a town’s application for city status to be accepted it must fulfil three criteria:

  • A minimum population of 300,000;
  • A record of good local government;
  • A “local metropolitan character”.

So a town becomes a city when it fulfils these three criteria. Simple, right?

Except incredibly, not a single one of the 24 towns in the UK granted city status since the establishment of these criteria actually fulfill them. At the time of their elevation none of these cities claimed a minimum population of 300,000; the latest census figures show that, even now, only Leicester can boast such a claim. When a government department creates policy, only to never actually enforce it, it poses the question of quite what purpose it served in the first place.

To add insult to injury, it is these criteria that have been used to bat away the applications of towns such as Croydon time and time again – making these decisions seem at best arbitrary, at worst vindictive.


Croydon is the thirteenth largest district in England by population, ahead of the likes of Coventry, Leicester, and Newcastle. The sticking point has therefore always been those other two criteria. In 1951, its application was denied due to reports of poor government. More recently it has been down to Home Office officials considering Croydon “to have no particular identity of its own”, which seems a particularly aggressive tone for government employees to take when rejecting an application.

Admittedly, it is already somewhat confusing that metropolitan Greater London, not officially a city, should contain two such official cities within it (London and Westminster). Yet to claim that areas such as Croydon and Southwark – which has also previously applied for city status – lack an identity shows a lack of appreciation for local cultures and communities. Croydon has, after all, long languished in the shadow of London, too distant from the centre to truly reap the benefits of a connection to the capital but too far to claim independence.

Despite this Croydon shows all the hallmarks of a modern city. It is home to the only tram network in London, with passengers making 29.5m journeys in a year. Its cultural output makes it look like Renaissance Florence, in comparison to most of the country: Croydon is the home of Stormzy, Nadia Rose, the BRIT school, and the birthplace of Dubstep.

The arrival of Westfield and Boxpark even shows the town can gentrify with the best of them. If the rules can be broken for twenty-four other towns, why not Croydon?

To many this town’s seemingly futile attempts to be something more than it is may seem unimportant. But for Croydon it is a decades-long quest to be something other than the butt of a joke.

Benjamin Cook tweets as @bd_cook.

 
 
 
 

“Stop worrying about hairdressers”: The UK government has misdiagnosed its productivity problem

We’re going as fast as we can, here. Image: Getty.

Gonna level with you here, I have mixed feelings about this one. On the one hand, I’m a huge fan of schadenfreude, so learning that it the government has messed up in a previously unsuspected way gives me this sort of warm glow inside. On the other hand, the way it’s been screwing up is probably making the country poorer, and exacerbating the north south divide. So, mixed reviews really.

Here’s the story. This week the Centre for Cities (CfC) published a major report on Britain’s productivity problem. For the last 200 years, ever since the industrial revolution, this country has got steadily richer. Since the financial crash, though, that seems to have stopped.

The standard narrative on this has it that the problem lies in the ‘long tail’ of unproductive businesses – that is, those that produce less value per hour. Get those guys humming, the thinking goes, and the productivity problem is sorted.

But the CfC’s new report says that this is exactly wrong. The wrong tail: Why Britain’s ‘long tail’ is not the cause of its productivity problems (excellent pun, there) delves into the data on productivity in different types of businesses and different cities, to demonstrate two big points.

The first is that the long tail is the wrong place to look for productivity gains. Many low productivity businesses are low productivity for a reason:

The ability of manufacturing to automate certain processes, or the development of ever more sophisticated computer software in information and communications have greatly increased the output that a worker produces in these industries. But while a fitness instructor may use a smartphone today in place of a ghetto blaster in 1990, he or she can still only instruct one class at a time. And a waiter or waitress can only serve so many tables. Of course, improvements such as the introduction of handheld electronic devices allow orders to be sent to the kitchen more efficiently, will bring benefits, but this improvements won’t radically increase the output of the waiter.

I’d add to that: there is only so fast that people want to eat. There’s a physical limit on the number of diners any restaurant can actually feed.

At any rate, the result of this is that it’s stupid to expect local service businesses to make step changes in productivity. If we actually want to improve productivity we should focus on those which are exporting services to a bigger market.  There are fewer of these, but the potential gains are much bigger. Here’s a chart:

The y-axis reflects number of businesses at different productivities, shown on the x-axis. So bigger numbers on the left are bad; bigger numbers on the right are good. 

The question of which exporting businesses are struggling to expand productivity is what leads to the report’s second insight:

Specifically it is the underperformance of exporting businesses in cities outside of the Greater South East that causes not only divergences across the country in wages and standards of living, but also hampers national productivity. These cities in particular should be of greatest concern to policy makers attempting to improve UK productivity overall.

In other words, it turned out, again, to the north-south divide that did it. I’m shocked. Are you shocked? This is my shocked face.

The best way to demonstrate this shocking insight is with some more graphs. This first one shows the distribution of productivity in local services business in four different types of place: cities in the south east (GSE) in light green, cities in the rest of the country (RoGB) in dark green, non-urban areas in the south east in purple, non-urban areas everywhere else in turquoise.

The four lines are fairly consistent. The light green, representing south eastern cities has a lower peak on the left, meaning slightly fewer low productivity businesses, but is slightly higher on the right, meaning slightly more high productivity businesses. In other words, local services businesses in the south eastern cities are more productive than those elsewhere – but the gap is pretty narrow. 

Now check out the same graph for exporting businesses:

The differences are much more pronounced. Areas outside those south eastern cities have many more lower productivity businesses (the peaks on the left) and significantly fewer high productivity ones (the lower numbers on the right).

In fact, outside the south east, cities are actually less productive than non-urban areas. This is really not what you’d expect to see, and no a good sign for the health of the economy:

The report also uses a few specific examples to illustrate this point. Compare Reading, one of Britain’s richest medium sized cities, with Hull, one of its poorest:

Or, looking to bigger cities, here’s Bristol and Sheffield:

In both cases, the poorer northern cities are clearly lacking in high-value exporting businesses. This is a problem because these don’t just provide well-paying jobs now: they’re also the ones that have the potential to make productivity gains that can lead to even better jobs. The report concludes:

This is a major cause for concern for the national economy – the underperformance of these cities goes a long way to explain both why the rest of Britain lags behind the Greater South East and why it performs poorly on a

European level. To illustrate the impact, if all cities were as productive as those in the Greater South East, the British economy would be 15 per cent more productive and £225bn larger. This is equivalent to Britain being home to four extra city economies the size of Birmingham.

In other words, the lesson here is: stop worrying about the productivity of hairdressers. Start worrying about the productivity of Hull.


You can read the Centre for Cities’ full report here.

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

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