Middlesbrough is determined to demolish its bus station. It should replace it with a new transport hub

A bus passes the Middlehaven redevelopment site. Image: Wikimedia Commons.

At the end of last year, Middlesbrough Council put in a bid for a “media and innovation village” on the west side of town. The catch? The development would be built on what is currently the bus station.

The mayor of Middlesbrough, Dave Budd, has promised that the work will only go ahead if another central site can be found for the bus station. Meanwhile on the northern edge of the centre, work has begun to redevelop Middlesbrough railway station in preparation for the return of direct trains to London in 2020.

And, just past the railway, huge tracts of former docklands sit overgrown and unused. This site, in the shadow of Middlesbrough’s famous transporter bridge, is earmarked for the Middlehaven development project. But despite ambitious plans, much of the land remains unused and in public ownership, and according to the council website no-one seems to have applied for planning permission on any of the sites near the station.

These are three disparate regeneration projects – but together they mean there’s a need for a new bus station, the political drive to create a transport hub, and land going spare in a convenient central location. The solution seems obvious – to put the new bus station next to the existing railway one. So why hasn’t the council been able to agree a new site yet?


One factor is that, as long as the Middlehaven project is ongoing, to scale it back would look like defeat, even if the project is behind schedule and appears to have stalled. Building the bus station here would require redrawing the plans – although it may also come with the advantage of making the rest of Middlehaven more attractive to developers.

Another is that the current bus station location is already a good one. It sits right in the heart of the shopping district and just a few minutes’ walk from Teesside University, on a major road with easy access to the wider UK network for long-distance coaches. Although it shows its age, its circulatory design seems to work well – plus, how many other bus stations have an on-site butchers? The one disadvantage is its distance from the railway station – no fun when you’re lugging your suitcase through the rain, rushing for your train. Still, there is probably nowhere in the town as ideally placed for a bus station.

I’m not sure it makes sense to demolish the bus station. But since the council is set on doing so anyway, they should seize the opportunity to make Middlesbrough into a proper gateway to the Tees Valley region.

Central Middlesbrough. The patch of empty land highlighted would seem to be the best site for a new bus station. Image: OpenStreetMap.

A bus station on the empty land immediately past the railway station would only be slightly further from the central shopping district than the old bus station, and it would be on the main roads through Middlesbrough and out to the surrounding towns of Teesside and beyond. The rest of Teesside, much of which currently only has hourly trains, would be better connected to the national rail network, while visitors from outside the North East would be greeted a by modern, convenient transport interchange, rather than having to follow a warren of underpasses and backstreets to their connection.

Some bus routes would have to be redirected – but if the streets of Middlehaven were wide enough for the industrial lorries of a thriving port, they should be wide enough for buses. Increased capacity for cross-town buses might ease the blow to the university from moving the bus station further away. Plus, as an added benefit, it would improve transport links to Middlesbrough College and Middlesbrough FC’s home ground, Riverside Stadium – which currently has no public transport at all.

Next Wednesday, the council will meet to discuss the demolition and rebuilding of the current bus station. They have the chance to make Middlesbrough into a transport hub for the Tees Valley region. It will be interesting to see what they do with the opportunity.

Stephen Jorgenson-Murray has strong feelings about bus stations, and tweets @stejormur.

 
 
 
 

In New Zealand, climate change is driving an eco-nationalist revival

The green and pleasant land of the South Island. Image: Getty.

“Ten years ago I would have called them settler f*****g land squatters,” Mike Smith, Maori-dom’s most tenacious activist, said last November as he reflected on the agriculture industry’s central role in driving climate change. “Now I have to try and get these people on board.”

Smith is infamous for taking a chainsaw to Auckland’s most prominent tree on a damp October night in 1994 in protest of the “Pākehā” – or white European –dominated government’s fiscal envelope restraining treaty settlements. Now he’s turned his hand to another cause close-to-home for the Maori, New Zealand’s indigenous population: the environment.

“We’re super vulnerable, like we are to anything,” Smith says. “When it comes to climate change it’s like the poorest people in the world are going to be hit the hardest first, and that’s a lot of us.”

Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern appears, at least rhetorically, the most sympathetic leader to his cause in a decade. In her campaign launch speech late last year, she made the future government’s position clear: “Climate change is my generation’s nuclear free moment.”

This message should resonate with followers of her Labour party: the NZ left has long nurtured an environment-orientated “culture-of-protest”. So Ardern’s call to arms was bound to gain her loyal support among children of the 1960s and ‘70s, who led the march against nuclear ship visits, spurring on the government of the time to wriggle out from the US nuclear umbrella, and place a ban on foreign nuclear ship visits.

Now, it is to the tycoons of deep sea oil exploration they aim to close NZ’s ports.

In this, Smith is not short of support locally, with marches run by grassroots organisations and international animal welfare funds beginning to gain traction with every day New Zealanders. In this, Ardern’s prediction is correct: the Coal Action Network Aotearoa (CANA), is reminiscent of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND), an earlier cluster of left-wing pacifists and nature lovers who drove the creation of the nuclear free zone.  

In December, 15,000 passionate protesters marched through the capital. And with the government’s recent ban of offshore oil exploration projects, Jeanette Fitzsimons, former Green party co-leader and the head of CANA, is optimistic about similar change to the energy and farming sectors.

The Labour-NZ First-Green party coalition seems focused on setting a new global precedent, weaning NZ away from a United States which has jettisoned the Paris Agreement. The move replicates another 20 years ago, when New Zealand’s anti-nuclear movement was central to an upsurge in New Zealand nationalism. Now, the same sense of going it alone on foreign policy is apparent both locally and in Parliament.

Dr. Gradon Diprose, a senior lecturer at Massey University, argues that this echoes an older expression of colonial nationalism, that saw “New Zealand as a land of natural abundance”. This: “eco-nationalism” is centered on “protecting certain visions of picturesque landscapes and unspoiled natural beauty”. The slogan “Clean, green New Zealand” is prevalent in popular culture and tourism marketing. The public seems to have latched onto it too, and ranked keeping NZ’s waterways “clean and green” top of a recent survey of of kiwis’ top concerns.

Three decades ago, it was the 10 July 1985 sinking of the Greenpeace flagship Rainbow Warrior that thrust local activists’ fears into the public eye, resulting in an almost nation-wide expression of climate-protectionism.


The bombing, a French intelligence operation sparked by Greenpeace’s calls for an end to foreign nuclear testing in the Pacific, galvanised a great deal of change to New Zealand’s overseas defence policies. A lack of censure from New Zealand’s Western allies drove Wellington to distance itself from the United States, while the shock of seeing a friendly nation violate NZ’s sovereignty left many at home seething.

Thirty years on, the foreign policy split throughout the Anglosphere, regarding Russian-Western relations, globalism, and the old international rules-based order, is becoming wider. Climate change is just the tip of the iceberg.

Most Kiwis you talk to will shake their heads in disapproval at US president Donald Trump’s scandalous outing last year in Helsinki. But US defiance of internationally brokered climate resolutions is something they can see clearly reflected in rural communities across the country.

The country saw records broken at both ends of the extreme weather spectrum last year. As 2018 kicked off, Kiwis sweltered through the hottest summer on record, while in Golden Bay, a small inlet near the northern tip of the South Island, residents endured the largest flood in 150 years. So, when President Trump tweets “So much for Global Warming”, the majority of New Zealanders look back fondly on NZ’s 1985 decision to boycott the “ANZUS” treaty, putting New Zealand at odds with its war-time ally America on defence legislation.

Public calls to take the same track on environmental regulation have become louder in the wake of Donald Trump’s election. The former US Secretary of State, Rex Tillerson, received a frosty “unwelcome” while on a flyby to the capital in 2017, with the New York Times’ Washington correspondent, Gardiner Harris remarking: “I’ve never seen so many people flip the bird at an American motorcade as I saw today”. Protests against President Trump’s stance on climate change are beginning to gain greater traction further still, with the hundred-strong “march for science” setting the tone for the new government later that year.

New Zealand certainly isn’t afraid of radicalism, and its activists are persistent. It’s already banned single use plastics in supermarkets. Plenty more is to come, Smith says.

And yes, reform is going to inhibit sometimes vital industries: “It doesn’t matter which way you spin the dice on this, whatever’s being done is going to hurt. People who are looking for a painless way of mitigating climate change, [but] I don’t think there is one.”

But among Smith’s troupe of climate agitators, the feeling is that, without drastic change, “the land”, the heart of the Maori ethos, is going to be hurt far more.

Back in Auckland, NZ’s financial hub, an electric scooter craze is gripping the city. This, too, has gained the support of local environmentalists. In New Zealand, a national sense of pride is always coupled with a certain eccentricity. In a country this size, change always starts small.