Where are the largest cities in Britain?

Sheffield: Is this Britain's third city? (Hint: No.) Image: Mick Knapton/Wikimedia Commons.

The other day, over on that Twitter, I was invited (no, really, I was) to help settle an argument: how big is Sheffield? 

A property listing, for the old town hall, had suggested it had once been the nerve centre of the UK's third largest metropolis. No one seemed quite convinced by this, for the very good reason that everyone involved could think of three bigger cities without breaking a sweat. 

So, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that, no, Sheffield is not Britain's third biggest city.

But we like to do things round the book round here – so let's crunch the numbers and establish, once and for all, a definitive ranking.

There’s one slight problem with this ambition: cities are surprisingly hard to define. And if CityMetric had a motto, it'd be whatever the Latin* is for “It depends how you count”.


Municipal boundaries

The reason Sheffield had somehow sneaked its way into third place, despite manifestly not being the country’s third largest city, is because it's often listed as the third largest individual local authority in England, with a population of around 553,000. Only Leeds (751,000) and Birmingham (1.1m) are bigger. Actually, so is Glasgow, with 593,000, but for some reason a single list of local authorities covering the entire UK is surprisingly hard to come by.

And already, you can see another problem with this definition: there isn't a London-wide local authority that's directly comparable to these places. Greater London is more sensibly compared to the other old metropolitan counties (West Midlands, West Yorkshire, etc). But while Greater Manchester is a pretty coherent entity these days, several of the others are still arguing about whether they're one city or several.

Nonetheless, in the name of completism, here are the populations of England's metropolitan counties...

  • Greater London – 8,173,941
  • West Midlands (B'ham) – 2,736,460
  • Greater Manchester – 2,682,528
  • West Yorkshire (Leeds-Bradford) – 2,226,058
  • Merseyside (L'pool) – 1,381,189
  • South Yorkshire (Sheffield) – 1,343,601
  • Tyne & Wear (Newcastle) – 1,104,825

...and of some of the bigger official "cities" they contain:

  • Birmingham – 1,073,045
  • Leeds – 751,485
  • Sheffield – 552,698
  • Bradford – 522,452
  • Manchester – 503,127
  • Liverpool – 466,415
  • Bristol – 428,234
  • Newcastle – 280,177
  • Sunderland – 275,506
  • Wolverhampton – 249,470

(Source: 2011 census data.)

Right. Now that's out the way, we can get onto the stuff that's actually useful. 

The urban area

There are a number of other ways of defining city populations, of which perhaps the most obvious is the “urban area” – that is, the continuously built up zone. This, after all, is the thing that feels like a city when you are actually inside it – or, come to that, when you are flying over it in a plane. 

The most up-to-date stats on this measure come from Demographia, a St. Louis-based consultancy, which every year gathers data on every city with a population of 500,000 or more and ranks it in its World Urban Areas Report.

In this year's edition 13 British cities make that list. Here they are, in chart form:

The dominance of London, though, renders the chart almost unreadable – we really only included it to give you some sense of the numbers we're talking about here – so from here on in we'll just present the figures.

Here's that population data again. The first number is their rank in the hierarchy of British cities; the one in brackets is their rank in the world. 

  • 1 (32) – London – 10,236,000
  • 2 (170) – Manchester – 2,639,000
  • 3 (183) – Birmingham-Wolverhampton – 2,512,000
  • 4 (259) – Leeds-Bradford – 1,893,000
  • 5 (390) – Glasgow – 1,220,000
  • 6 (565) – Southampton-Portsmouth – 883,000
  • 7 (570) – Liverpool – 875,000
  • 8 (619) – Newcastle – 793,000
  • 9 (650) – Nottingham – 755,000
  • 10 (701) – Sheffield – 706,000
  • 11 (776) – Bristol – 646,000
  • 12 (824) – Belfast – 600,000
  • 13 (942) – Leicester – 534,000

So, now you know Leicester residents: you're the 942nd largest city in the world. 

A number of comments about this data. Firstly, on this definition, Britain's historic second city Birmingham has been shoved into third place. Poor Birmingham.

Secondly, the only one of the four UK countries without a city of this size is Wales: Cardiff, with 467,000 residents, just misses ranking. 


Perhaps the most unexpected entry here is in sixth place. No one would think of either Southampton or Portsmouth as a major city: considered as a single entity, though, which in terms of sprawl they are, they're bigger than relative giants such as Liverpool or Newcastle.

Oh, and Sheffield barely makes the top 10, so is definitely not the third largest city in Britain. Just to be clear.

But there are other ways of visualising cities. For example:

Primary urban areas

PUAs are, essentially, collections of local authorities that function a bit like single cities. They were created by the Department for Communities & Local Government a decade or so back, as a statistical tool to help it draw comparisons between very different places. The aim was to come up with a list of areas less arbitrary than existing council boundaries; but which still allowed you to count largely independent but touching cities (Southampton and Portsmouth, say) as independent entities. 

Our old friends at the Centre for Cities still use PUAs in their own research, and have conveniently published a map of how they looked in 2014. Here it is:


 

On these definitions, Leeds and Bradford are counted separately; Sunderland isn't part of Newcastle, and Bolton, Rochdale and Wigan are not included in Manchester. These things obviously have a knock-on effect on the final figures for how big city populations are. 

Those caveats behind us, here's the top 10:

  • 1. London – 9,750,500
  • 2. Birmingham – 2,453,700
  • 3. Manchester – 1,903,100
  • 4. Glasgow – 1,057,600
  • 5. Newcastle – 837,500
  • 6. Sheffield – 818,800
  • 7. Liverpool – 793,100
  • 8. Leeds – 761,500
  • 9. Bristol – 706,600
  • 10. Belfast – 675,600

Manchester is rather shrunken; Birmingham is back in second place. Leeds, deprived of Bradford, has fallen a long way down the league tables. And Southampton and Portsmouth, two cities once again, are nowhere to be seen. 

Let's look at one last definition:

Metropolitan areas

Metropolitan areas are, in the most literal sense, the big ones – not simply a city itself, but its suburbs, commuter towns and rural hinterland. On this definition, London isn't Greater London – it's a large chunk of the Home Counties, too. 

The figures below are from a document published in 2007, and are based on data taken from 2001, so the numbers are pretty out of data (hence the inconsistencies with the other lists above). But it's the best we've got so here, courtesy of the EU's ESPON project, are the top 10.

  • 1. London – 13,709,000
  • 2. Birmingham-Wolverhampton – 3,683,000
  • 3. Manchester – 2,556,000
  • 4. Leeds-Bradford – 2,302,000
  • 5. Liverpool-Birkenhead – 2,241,000
  • 6. Newcastle-Sunderland – 1,599,000
  • 7. Sheffield – 1,569,000
  • 8. Southampton-Portsmouth – 1,547,000
  • 9. Nottingham-Derby – 1,543,000
  • 10. Glasgow – 1,395,000

Considered as a metro, rather than a city, Birmingham is way ahead of Manchester – a result of its better transport links to surrounding towns, perhaps. The twin cities of South Hampshire are back in the rankings, and several other cities look a lot bigger when the whole of their economic footprint is taken into account.

Glasgow, however, doesn't: it barely makes the top 10. Compared to cities like Birmingham or Leeds, it doesn't have much of a hinterland.


Towards a conclusion

What should be clear by now is that no definitive ranking is possible. You can say that London is definitely the UK's biggest city, and no one will challenge you. You can say that Manchester is bigger than Newcastle, and be on pretty safe ground. But is Manchester bigger than Birmingham? What's the UK's 7th biggest city? These are questions with no answers.

What we can do, though, is come up with a sort of typology: not a numbered ranking, exactly, but a sort of way of visualising which league cities are playing in. 

Here you go:

  • Megacity: London
  • Second cities: Birmingham, Manchester
  • Major cities: Glasgow, Leeds, Liverpool, Newcastle, Sheffield
  • Large cities: Belfast, Bristol, Nottingham, Southampton/Portsmouth, Leicester, etc.

The latter category is incomplete: other cities, like Cardiff, Edinburgh, Middlesbrough, even Brighton or Bournemouth, probably have a claim to be in there, too. Britain only has one city whose population even gets close to 10m, but a couple of handfuls of them are bobbing around the 500,000 mark.

But the point, in the end, is clear. No way in hell is Sheffield Britain's third city. 

By the way, if you're the sort of person who'd like to read more of this kind of nonsense, you should totally like us on Facebook.

*Dependet quam numeras.

 
 
 
 

Canada’s gay neighbourhoods are struggling. Can queer pop-ups plug the gap?

Vancouver. Image: Getty.

Queer life was highly visible in Western Canada last year. In May, Vancouver declared 2018 the “Year of the Queer,” celebrating decades of service that the city’s cultural organisations have provided for lesbian, bisexual, gay, transgender, queer and two-spirit (LGBTQ/2S) people across the region.

Yet 2018 also saw the loss of multiple queer venues and gay bars. While economic forces, such as rapacious gentrification are part of the story and struggle, our research shows that something creative and generative is happening in the city as well.

In the face of changing urban landscapes, economic hardships, and more straights moving into historically gay neighbourhoods, queer pop-ups — ephemeral gathering spaces whose impact lingers among revellers long after the night is over — now play a large role in the fight for LGBTQ/2S equality.

Scattered gay places became neighbourhoods

Queer life germinated in “scattered gay places” across cities in North America from the late 1800s to the Second World War. Inside cabarets, bars, theatres or outside in public parks, washrooms and city streets, queers found spaces which could hold and celebrate transgressive sexual connections while also providing respite from daily experiences of discrimination and social exclusion.

After the Second World War, scattered gay places congealed into permanent gay bars and residential “gaybourhoods” in a period anthropologist Kath Weston calls “the great gay migration.” Queer people flocked to urban centres and sexual subcultures flourished in cities like New York, Chicago, San Francisco, Los Angeles and Toronto.

The formation of queer community spaces has always been controversial. Cultural and legal backlashes marred early developments. A host of laws and regulations tried to suppress and contain homosexuality in North America by limiting its presence in the public sphere.

These measures resulted in frequent hostilities, police raids and violence. Queers congregated together not just to find love or community, but to protect themselves, to protect one another and to find refuge. Pride parades, now celebrated worldwide, commemorate these early turf wars.

Pop-ups revitalise queer spaces

Researchers have written a great deal on the cultural and political importance of gay districts in urban centres, and they have grappled with concerns that these areas, along with the establishments they house, are fading.

But innovative urban forms challenge arguments about the death and demise of queer spaces in the city. Our research suggests that queer pop-ups, or temporary cultural gathering spaces, cater to diverse and often marginalised queers.

Some gaybourhoods are dwindling in their residential concentration and gay bars are dropping like flies. But new queer place-making efforts are emerging.

Two of the authors at the queer pop-up in 2018 at East Side Studios in Vancouver. Ryan is on the far left, back row, Adriana is on the far right of the back row. Image: author provided.

Unlike gaybourhoods and gay bars, pop-ups are intentional in how they address persistent, intersectional forms of inequality. Queer pop-ups offer patrons a space to explore non-binary forms of gender and sexual identities, and especially a place to experience collective effervescence among queer people of colour, and femme lesbians.

Some pop-ups create environments that are explicitly trans-inclusive, consent-focused, and sex-positive. Pop-ups are not panaceas for queer life. Pop-ups can also be places where issues around socioeconomic status, gender identity and expression, and racial inequality are called out.

Yet these spaces directly and indirectly encourage dialogue on inequalities within the queer community, conversations that help produce safer spaces for marginalised queers to find each other and forge enduring queer consciousnesses.

Turf wars

Queer pop-ups show similar trajectories of infighting and compromise that the LGBT social movement encountered from the late 1970s through the early 2000s when trying to forge a collective consciousness, gain social visibility and win legal rights.

These turf wars, expressed as contests over space and inclusion, are generally sparked over three perennial concerns: privilege, race and gender. One interviewee, a 20-year-old self-identified queer, trans person of colour (QTPoC), who spoke about Vancouver’s gay district told us:

“I tend to avoid the gay bars on Davie [because] a lot of the gay bars there have now been taken over by cis-gender, heterosexual people. I’ve [also] heard from a lot of QTPoC friends that they are often uncomfortable going to gay bars on Davie, because it’s usually very dominated by cis-gender, white gay men.”

A 28-year-old white, cisgender, queer male found pop-ups more politically and culturally radical than gay bars. He put it this way:

“It’s very rare that we’ll ever have a conversation about politics [in gay bars]. It’s just about partying and things that we kind of see as very stereotypical portrayals of gay culture: like going out, dancing, drinking, fucking.”

Historically, gaybourhoods have served an important role in the fight for LGBT rights, but they have also developed to cater to a specific cis-gender, white, middle-class, male sensibility. One 30-year-old, white, trans DJ put it bluntly, “the mainstream scene is just not welcoming to trans people, in my experience,” adding that verbal transphobic harassment is common in the streets of Vancouver’s gaybourhood.

At Vancouver Pride this year we were reminded of this schism at a local pop-up event. “Gay men won’t come here, it’s too trashy,” shouted a white Australian lesbian playfully to friends over loud music. We were at Eastside Studios, a large warehouse turned into the newest collaborative queer venue in Vancouver.


The comment was striking because it highlights the visible bifurcation occurring in queer life and queer consumption in Vancouver. Many gay men tend to patronise businesses and events in the West End, Vancouver’s official gaybourhood; whereas, other members of the LGBTQ community are scattered across the city at events and venues that are far less permanent. Eastside Studios attempts to break through the homonormative bent some gay bars perpetuate. It is a space that generously houses some of the struggling pop up events who lost space to gentrification in Vancouver’s out of control rental market.

Historically, pop-ups arose as the first signs of urban sexual transgression. They continue to emerge as spatial innovations which nurture transgressive queer diversities that do not have space or representation in the gaybourhood. Weekly social media blasts via Facebook or Instagram and word-of-mouth dissemination play an important role in linking queers around the city to these events. Pop-ups take different tones and establish different vibes among patrons. Collectively, pop-ups highlight the many important projects local queers are undertaking to increase the plurality of what queer life looks like and how it is expressed.

Struggles for equality

Marriage is the leading story in many headlines these days, but queer struggles for equality were never only about relationship recognition or acceptance into the mainstream.

Queer struggles are also fights to resist oppressive normativity, to end racial inequality and white supremacy, to end sexualised violence, to reconcile generational traumas associated with colonialism.

Continuing these fights is perhaps what makes queer pop-ups unique. Organisers of these events are intentional and responsive to such concerns. They seek to create new worlds that soften the impact of inequalities, both in gaybourhoods and in other parts of Canadian cities as well.

Pop-ups nourish queer lives; they emerge as temporary meeting grounds where diverse, oftentimes marginalised, queers flock for community and collective, momentary release. Here an image from a Man Up pop-up event in Vancouver. Image: Shot by Steph/Facebook/The Conversation.

Many of these spaces are an opportunity for patrons to travel in a re-imagined world, even if only for the night. While not all pop-ups that appear survive, the ones that do matter, fundamentally, because they create spaces that resist heteronormative culture and homonormativity, address intersecting inequalities, assert and anchor queer cultural and political identities, and promote well-being for a wider portion of the community in ways that gaybourhoods used to and have always had the potential to.

Pop-ups nourish queer lives in ways that gaybourhoods and gay bars historically had. They emerge as temporary meeting grounds where diverse, oftentimes marginalised, queers flock for community and collective, momentary release. They allow patrons to dance and comfortably explore the implications of their gender and sexual identities around like-minded individuals. At times they are more than friendly social gatherings, becoming sites where the moral arch of the community is shaped through demonstrations on urgent issues impacting queer lives and the surrounding community.

Queer pop-ups are vibrant locations that work to push forward the unfinished projects of social justice first envisioned during gay liberation.

The Conversation

Ryan Stillwagon, Ph.D. Student, Sociology, University of British Columbia; Adriana Brodyn, Ph.D. Candidate, University of British Columbia; Amin Ghaziani, Associate Professor of Sociology and Canada Research Chair in Sexuality and Urban Studies, University of British Columbia, and D. Kyle Sutherland, PhD Student, Department of Sociology, University of British Columbia.

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