10 ways of visualising London's growth

London, as viewed from the International Space Station in February 2013. Image: NASA.

This month, so the number crunchers tell us, London hit a milestone: the city's population has finally exceeded the peak it previously hit in 1939. In other words, it's taken 75 years for the city to recover from the impact of the Second World War.

This, then, seems as good a time as any to look at how London's population has changed – and work out how to visualise how 8,615,000 people are crowding into this town these days.

Bouncing back

For much of the late 20th century, London's population was falling: between WW2, and the nadir set around 1981, the city lost over 2m people, nearly a quarter of its population.

You might be wonder whether this was a reflection of broader demographic trends, but no. In the time that London's population fell from 8.6m to just 6.6m, the population of the UK as a whole grew by nearly a fifth (from 47.8m to 56.3m, if you're counting). In 1939, the area that's now Greater London held approximately 18 per cent of the national population; by 1981, it was less than 12 per cent.

Image: CityMetric.

This wasn’t an accident: in fact, it was the result of deliberate policy choices, which involved clearing some high-density housing from inner London, and decanting its former occupants out to a ring of new towns around the capital. In the decades immediately following the war, London was very much not the place to be.

Over the last 30 years, however, the capital’s share of the national population has rebounded slightly (to 13 per cent, since you ask). What's more, if you take the long view, those four decades start to look like a blip. Here's the population of the area that's now Greater London, starting in 1801 and projected into the future:

Image: CityMetric.

Put like that and it looks suspiciously like the city has returned to its natural trend growth.

It doesn't look likely to stop, either. On current trends, London will hit 9m by the end of the decade, 10m by the mid 2030s and 11m by the middle of the century. In other words, over the next 30 years or so, London's population is going to grow by something like a quarter.

One might think it's time we started trying to find places for all those extra people to live – a task that'd be much easier if a whole fifth of the capital wasn't technically classified as green belt:

Image: Centre for Cities.

...but we've banged on about that quite enough for one month, so let’s talk about something else. Let’s ask whether the idea that London has only just returned to its previous peak of population might actually be a touch misleading.

Pushing out

The 8.6m figure that everyone's been touting was the 1939 population of what is now Greater London.

In 1939, though, there was no Greater London: there was the London County Council, yes, but that population figure we’ve been discussing also included most of Middlesex, large chunks of Surrey, Essex and Kent, and a sliver of Hertfordshire, too.

In other words, 8.6m was the population of metropolitan London – a definition of the city that included areas outside the boundaries but within its economic footprint. If we want to compare like with like, maybe we should forget about administrative boundaries, and instead compare that figure with the population of metropolitan London today.

This is fine idea in theory – but working out where London ends in practice is no easy business. One option is to take the continuously built up area: that includes most (but not quite all) of Greater London, as well as various outlying towns that are attached to it. Here's how the Office for National Statistics (ONS) defined it at the time of the 2011 census.

You can click this one to expand it. Image: Eopsid, via Wikimedia Commons.

And here's the same data, this time with administrative boundaries included.

Image: Rob984, via Wikimedia Common, with labels added by CityMetric.

In 2011, this area had a population of 9.8m, which is substantially more than London proper.

But you can question whether this is definition is particularly helpful. Towns like Hemel Hempstead and Harlow are dormitory suburbs, defined in large part by their relationship to London. But the same goes for other nearby towns, such as Brentwood or Slough, which aren’t included in the data. Should they really be classified differently, just because they're don't have the same concrete umbilical cord to the city?

The ONS (which is quite fickle as government statistical agencies go) doesn't always think so. A few years ago, it used 2001 census data to split Britain into 243 “Travel to Work Areas”: the idea was that the 75 per cent of the people who lived in any one TTWA work also work in the area, and vice versa.

Here's what the ONS came up with for London:

Image: MRSC, via Wikimedia Commons. 

That area, by 2005, had a population of around 9.3m. In other words, even 10 years ago, it was substantially bigger than the city proper is today; it's fair to assume it's grown since.

Others have come up with different interpretations of the same sort of data. Last year, regeneration expert and CityMetric contributor Barney Stringer produced this map to accompany a blogpost headlined, “Is London too small?” It basically refines the TTWA concept, using 2011 data:

Image: Barney Stringer.

Then there's the Centre for Cities version, which appears in the Cities Factbook 2015. That defines London like this:

Image: CityMetric, based on Centre for Cities data.

Possibly the broadest definition of the city, though, is the one used by the EU statistical agency Eurostat to define London's “larger urban zone”. That includes basically all the areas included in the Travel to Work Area; the entire continuous built up area; most of the counties of Surrey, Hertfordshire, Essex and Kent; and chunks of Berkshire and Buckinghamshire, too. Here's the result:

Greater Greater London. Image: CityMetric, based on Eurostat data.

This area, Eurostat reckons, has a population of just over 13m, making it the largest city in Europe. (Paris, in second place, doesn't quite make it to 12m.)

Which of these definitions is “right” is a moot point (in some ways, they all are). But what we can say is that, when you define London by its economic footprint, rather than its administrative boundaries, the city probably passed its previous peak of population some time ago.

Take the broadest definition, indeed, and you’ll find it includes many of the new towns to which the population of inner London was decanted after the war. Look at things like that, and it's entirely possible that the city's population never fell at all.

This is the first half of a two-part article. Next time: the rise of the suburbs. 


 

 
 
 
 

Can you have capitalism without capital? Brighton, Ankara, Ghent and the intangible economy

The Fusebox, Brighton. Image: WiredSussex.

As you head north out of Brighton on the A23 things take a distinctly granular turn. The cool bars and trendy eateries give way to second-hand shops and nail bars.

Looming over the area, New England House, an eight-storey brutalist office block, is home to Wired Sussex, a collection of digital and media companies, as well as its offshoot The Fusebox. Here, a collection of entrepreneurs, tech visionaries and creative technologists are seeking to transform their ideas into successful businesses. This island of cutting-edge thinking, surrounded by the evidence of the glaring consequences of austerity, could stand as a synecdoche for the suddenly vogueish concept of the “intangible economy”.

Towards the end of last year, on Radio 4’s Start The Week, Jonathan Haskel, author of Capitalism Without Capital, laid out the features of this brave new economy. The ideas are scalable, have sunk costs, their benefits spill over, and they have synergies with other intangible assets. All of these things are, to a greater or lesser extent, attributes featured in the virtual reality games, apps for care home workers, and e-commerce ideas mapped out by the bright sparks in the Fusebox.

Its manager, Rosalie Hoskins, explains that it exists to support the work of small companies doing creative work. Within these clean white walls they can bounce their ideas off each other and reap the fruits of collaboration. “We’ll provide the doors,” she says. But “it’s up to them to open them.”

One innovative thinker hoping to make her entrance is Maf’j Alvarez. She tells me she studied for a masters in digital media arts at the University of Brighton, and describes herself as an ‘interactive artist’. “Right now I am playing with virtual reality,” she tells me. “There’s a lot of physics involved in the project which explores weight and light. It definitely has a practical application and commercial potential. VR can be used to help people with dementia and also as a learning tool for young people.”

The Fusebox, she says, is “about collaboration. The residents of the Fusebox are in all a similar situation.”

The willingness to work together, identified by Haskell as a key element of the intangible economy, is evident in the Fusebox’s partnership with like minded innovators in Ankara. Direnç Erşahin from İstasyon, a centre for “social incubation” based in the Turkish capital, visited the Fusebox toward the end of last year.

“It was a good opportunity to exchange knowledge about the practice of running a creative hub – managing the place, building a community and so on,” he says.

Erşahin and his colleagues have launched a fact-checking platform – teyit.org – which he believes will provide “access to true information”. The co-operation between the Fusebox in Brighton and İstasyon in Ankara  is “a good opportunity to reinforce a data-oriented approach and university and society interaction,” he argues.

But the interaction between wider society and the denizens of the intangible world is often marked by friction and, ironically, a failure of communication.

This point is underlined by Aral Balkan, who runs a company called indie.ie which aims to develop ethical technologies. “There’s a good reason we have a trust problem,” he says. “It’s because people in mainstream technology companies have acted in ways that have violated our trust. They have developed systems that prey upon individuals rather than empowering them.”

A former Brighton resident, Balkan is almost a walking definition of Theresa May’s “citizen of nowhere”. He is a regular speaker on the TED and digital circuits, and I crossed paths frequently with him when I covered the industry for Brighton’s local newspaper. He left the city last year, chiefly, he tells me, in protest over the UK government’s overweening “snooper’s charter” laws.


He has Turkish and French citizenship and is now based in Malmö, Sweden, while working with the city of Ghent on a radical redevelopment of the internet. “Ghent is a beautiful example of how location affects the work,” he tells me. “They don’t want to be a smart city, they want to encourage smart citizens. We are exploring alternatives.”

Karl-Filip Coenegrachts, chief strategy officer at the City of Ghent, is another believer in the synergies made possible by the intangible economy. “The historic perspective has impacted on the psychology and DNA of the city,” he says. “The medieval castle built to protect the nobility from the citizens not the other way around. People in Ghent want to have their say.”

Left out of this perspective, of course, are those who cannot make their voice heard or who feel they are being ignored. The fissures are easy to find if you look. The future of Belgium’s coalition government, for example, is threatened by Flemish nationalists in the wake of a scandal over the forced repatriation of 100 Sudanese migrants. In Ankara, President Recep Tayyip Erdogan has purged local government and continues to stamp on any dissent.

In the UK, the gig economy makes headlines for all the wrong reasons. Back in the area around the Fusebox, the sharp observer will notice, alongside the homeless people curled up in sleeping bags in charity shop doorways, a stream of gig-worker bikers zooming from one order to another.

The intangible economy throws up all-too tangible downsides, according to Maggie Dewhurst, vice chair at the Independent Workers Union of Great Britain. She gives short shrift to the idea of ‘capitalism without capital’.

“It does get a bit irritating when they muddy the waters and use pseudo academic definitions. They pretend tangible assets don’t exist or are free.”

In fact, she adds, “The workers are a human resource.”