How will the government's "city deals" work?

A tale of eight cities.

The Government’s announcement about "City Deals" has thrown open debate about the balance of power between central, regional and local government. Nick Clegg and Greg Clark have signalled that these "ground breaking deals represent a dramatic power shift, freeing cities from Whitehall control". 

The Coalition has set out a challenge for eight of England’s cities – if they can deliver more effective and accountable local government, then central government will transfer more powers and provide incentives for cities to apply their own solutions. Cities are keen to be in control of their own growth agendas and these deals represent the government’s biggest commitment yet to fulfilling its localism policy.

The proposals put forward by the eight cities show interesting differences in definition and priority. Alongside the areas you’d expect cities to focus on, such as housing and regeneration of specific districts, several cities propose focusing on areas such as physical and virtual connectivity, with powers on transport and superfast broadband. Birmingham has identified life sciences as a potential and exciting growth opportunity. 

The role of the private sector also varies from city to city. For example, Birmingham’s Local Education Partnership (LEP) looks set to play a significant role. In Liverpool, the city has looked at the transition from Council leader to mayor and how this can effectively engage the private sector. There are a number of major corporate players involved in the development of Liverpool’s future and, if successful, this could become a model for other locations. 

Each city has defined the geographical boundary between the city and surrounding region differently.  Manchester, Leeds and Bristol have taken the most regional strategies, with Greater Manchester in particular having the benefit of building on a number of years of collaborative working with different agencies and groups within the area.  Bristol’s deal also establishes "enterprise areas" outside the city boundaries and areas such as Bath, where full retention of business rate growth will apply. 

There is also considerable variation in how the low carbon agenda is incorporated. Six cities refer to it, with Manchester, Liverpool, Birmingham and Newcastle placing it prominently in their proposals.

These variations will help trial different models for devolving authority to regional, city and local authorities and it will be interesting to see how they progress. 

Despite the variations in approach, there are two factors which will shape the practical and commercial success of these schemes. For the City Deals policy to be transformative, the detailed powers transferred must be embedded in a robust governance framework, underpinned by access to sustainable finance for investment in projects.  These two key pillars are critical determinants of success or failure. 

As well as providing governance, the city authority should be a catalyst for change and provide for an effective working relationship between local and national government, business and communities. It needs to allow the clear space to be created where trust can be nurtured and the alignment of objectives achieved.

Delivery should be at arms' length from policy, so cities will need robust region-wide economic and financial assessment frameworks to appraise and prioritise projects.

Considering both governance and financing frameworks, Manchester's deal is particularly distinctive. Founded on the long-established governance framework of AGMA (Association of Greater Manchester Authorities) its 'earn-back model' aligns investment resources and economic development returns for reinvestment in strategic priorities. The model allows retention of additional business rates over and above that allowed by the forthcoming reform of local government finance, benefiting the city region to the tune of £30m per year. Not that substantial in isolation, but bigger ambitions underpin this and, used effectively as enabling finance, this could unlock substantially more private investment.

The "earn-back model" could offer a genuinely sustainable source of finance through which Greater Manchester is rewarded for good investment decisions made locally. Being region wide and non-sector specific, it is broader in scope and potential than those funding elements more narrowly defined and tied to specific spatial (enterprise zones) or economic policy areas such as skills or apprenticeships, and to that end it marks a more substantive devolution of powers and resource.

UK cities are at the beginning of the journey towards devolution and there is potential for significant change.  Could cities take a share of local collected corporation tax or secure powers to vary national policy in other areas of the public sector? This is an exciting opportunity, but to capitalise on it cities need to think, plan and govern differently and, for the long term, sustainability and flexibility needs to be built in at the outset.

Philip Woolley is a partner in Grant Thornton’s Government & Infrastructure Advisory team.

The city deals will

Philip Woolley is a partner in Grant Thornton’s Government & Infrastructure Advisory team.

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Love a good box set? Then you should watch the Snooker World Championships

The game relies on a steady arm, which relies on a steady nerve. The result is a slow creeping tension needs time and space to be properly enjoyed and endured. 

People are lazy and people are impatient. This has always been so – just ask Moses or his rock – but as illustrated by kindly old Yahweh, in those days they could not simply answer those impulses and stroll on.

Nowadays, that is no longer so. Twitter, YouTube and listicles reflect a desire for complex and involved issues, expansive and nuanced sports – what we might term quality – to be condensed into easily digestible morsels for effort-free enjoyment.

There is, though, one notable exception to this trend: the box set. Pursuing a novelistic, literary sensibility, it credits its audience with the power of sentience and tells riveting stories slowly, unfolding things in whichever manner that it is best for them to unfold.

In the first episode of the first series of The Sopranos, we hear Tony demean his wife Carmela's irritation with him via the phrase “always with the drama”; in the seventh episode of the first series we see his mother do likewise to his father; and in the 21st and final episode of the sixth and final series, his son uses it on Carmela. It is precisely this richness and this care that makes The Sopranos not only the finest TV show ever made, but the finest artefact that contemporary society has to offer. It forces us to think, try and feel.

We have two principal methods of consuming art of this ilk - weekly episode, or week-long binge. The former allows for anticipation and contemplation, worthy pursuits both, but of an entirely different order to the immersion and obsession offered by the latter. Who, when watching the Wire, didn’t find themselves agreeing that trudat, it's time to reup the dishwasher salt, but we’ve run out, ain’t no thing. Losing yourself in another world is rare, likewise excitement at where your mind is going next.

In a sporting context, this can only be achieved via World Championship snooker. Because snooker is a simple, repetitive game, it is absorbing very quickly, its run of play faithfully reflected by the score.

But the Worlds are special. The first round is played over ten frames – as many as the final in the next most prestigious competition – and rather than the usual week, it lasts for 17 magical days, from morning until night. This bestows upon us the opportunity to, figuratively at least, put away our lives and concentrate. Of course, work and family still exist, but only in the context of the snooker and without anything like the same intensity. There is no joy on earth like watching the BBC’s shot of the championship compilation to discover that not only did you see most of them live, but that you have successfully predicted the shortlist.

It is true that people competing at anything provides compelling drama, emotion, pathos and bathos - the Olympics proves this every four years. But there is something uniquely nourishing about longform snooker, which is why it has sustained for decades without significant alteration.

The game relies on a steady arm, which relies on a steady nerve. The result is a slow creeping tension needs time and space to be properly enjoyed and endured. Most frequently, snooker is grouped with darts as a non-athletic sport, instead testing fine motor skills and the ability to calculate angles, velocity and forthcoming shots. However, its tempo and depth is more similar to Test cricket – except snooker trusts so much in its magnificence that it refuses to compromise the values which underpin it.

Alfred Hitchcock once explained that if two people are talking and a bomb explodes without warning, it constitutes surprise; but if two people are talking and all the while a ticking bomb is visible under the table, it constitutes suspense. “In these conditions,” he said, “The same innocuous conversation becomes fascinating because the public is participating in the scene. The audience is longing to warn the characters on the screen: ‘You shouldn't be talking about such trivial matters. There is a bomb beneath you and it is about to explode!’”

Such is snooker. In more or less every break, there will at some point be at least one difficult shot, loss of position or bad contact – and there will always be pressure. Add to that the broken flow of things – time spent waiting for the balls to stop, time spent prowling around the table, time spent sizing up the table, time spent cleaning the white, time spent waiting for a turn – and the ability for things to go wrong is constantly in contemplation.

All the more so in Sheffield’s Crucible Theatre. This venue, in its 40th year of hosting the competition, is elemental to its success. Place is crucial to storytelling, and even the word “Crucible” – whether “a ceramic or metal container in which metals or other substances may be melted or subjected to very high temperatures,” “a situation of severe trial”, or Arthur Miller’s searing play – conjures images of destruction, injustice and nakedness. And the actual Crucible is perhaps the most atmospheric arena in sport - intimate, quiet, and home to a legendarily knowledgeable audience, able to calculate when a player has secured a frame simply by listening to commentary through an earpiece and applauding as soon as the information is communicated to them.

To temper the stress, snooker is also something incredibly comforting. This is partly rooted in its scheduling. Working day and late-night sport is illicit and conspiratorial, while its presence in revision season has entire cohorts committing to “just one more quick frame”, and “just one more quick spliff”. But most powerfully of all, world championship snooker triggers memory and nostalgia, a rare example of something that hasn’t changed, as captivating now as it was in childhood.

This wistfulness is complemented by sensory pleasure of the lushest order. The colours of both baize and balls are the brightest, most engaging iterations imaginable, while the click of cue on ball, the clunk of ball on ball and the clack of ball on pocket is deep and musical; omnipresent and predictable, they combine for a soundtrack that one might play to a baby in the womb, instead of whale music or Megadeth.

Repeating rhythms are also set by the commentators, former players of many years standing. As is natural with extended coverage of repetitive-action games, there are numerous phrases that recur:

“We all love these tactical frames, but the players are so good nowadays that one mistake and your opponent’s in, so here he is, looking to win the frame at one visit ... and it’s there, right in the heart of the pocket for frame and match! But where’s the cue ball going! it really is amazing what can happen in the game of snooker, especially when we’re down to this one-table situation.”

But as omniscient narrators, the same men also provide actual insight, alerting us to options and eventualities of which we would otherwise be ignorant. Snooker is a simple game but geometry and physics are complicated, so an expert eye is required to explain them intelligibly; it is done with a winning combination of levity and sincerity.

The only essential way in which snooker is different is the standard of play. The first round of this year’s draw featured eight past winners, only two of whom have made it to the last four, and there were three second-round games that were plausible finals.

And just as literary fiction is as much about character as plot, so too is snooker. Nothing makes you feel you know someone like studying them over years at moments of elation and desolation, pressure and release, punctuated by TV confessions of guilty pleasures, such as foot massages, and bucket list contents, such as naked bungee jumping.

It is probably true that there are not as many “characters” in the game as once there were, but there are just as many characters, all of whom are part of that tradition. And because players play throughout their adult life, able to establish their personalities, in unforgiving close-up, over a number of years, they need not be bombastic to tell compelling stories, growing and undergoing change in the same way as Dorothea Brooke or Paulie Gualtieri.

Of no one is this more evident that Ding Junhui, runner-up last year and current semi-finalist this; though he is only 30, we have been watching him almost half his life. In 2007, he reached the final of the Masters tournament, in which he faced Ronnie O’Sullivan, the most naturally talented player ever to pick up a cue – TMNTPETPUAC for short. The crowd were, to be charitable, being boisterous, and to be honest, being pricks, and at the same time, O’Sullivan was playing monumentally well. So at the mid-session interval, Ding left the arena in tears and O’Sullivan took his arm in consolation; then when Ding beat O’Sullivan in this year’s quarter-final, he rested his head on O’Sullivan’s shoulder and exchanged words of encouragement for words of respect. It was beautiful, it was particular, and it was snooker.

Currently, Ding trails Mark Selby, the “Jester from Leicester” – a lucky escape, considering other rhyming nouns - in their best of 33 encounter. Given a champion poised to move from defending to dominant, the likelihood is that Ding will remain the best player never to win the game’s biggest prize for another year.

Meanwhile, the other semi-final pits Barry Hawkins, a finalist in 2013, against John Higgins, an undisputed great and three-time champion. Higgins looks likely to progress, and though whoever wins through will be an outsider, both are eminently capable of taking the title. Which is to say that, this weekend, Planet Earth has no entertainment more thrilling, challenging and enriching than events at the Crucible Theatre, Sheffield.

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