Give cities more power over their destiny

The new City Deals are a step in the right direction

Throughout July and August all eyes will be on London. Whether it is the unveiling of the Shard or the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games, London is demanding the attention of the nation. It is therefore no surprise that last week’s announcement of new powers for England’s eight cities was met with little fanfare. Yet, these "City Deals" represent the most significant devolution of power from Whitehall in decades and are deserving of more attention. This is not just the summer of the capital; it is very much the summer of the cities.

England’s eight core cities and their surrounding areas are forecast to add £71bn to the economy over the next decade. But evidence suggests that they have the potential to achieve much more. That is why the City Deals, that include transport infrastructure funds, new investment for SMEs, and apprentice hubs to support NEETs, will play a crucial role in the nation’s future growth.

The first clear indication of a new relationship between central government and England’s cities was the creation of a Minister for Cities last year. Greg Clark was appointed to this role, with further support from Nick Clegg and ministers and officials in BIS, CLG and HMT. The Deals are the result of an almost year-long negotiation between Clark and his team in the Cabinet Office, Whitehall and the core cities.

Arguably of most significance are the new transport infrastructure funds. They have a combined value of over £5bn and should have significant impact on the ground. Transport has been the policy area that the Mayor of London has had most influence over; the congestion charge, tube upgrades, a bicycle hire scheme and even a cable car over the Thames, have been the result. Getting around the capital is now easier and the same could soon be true for England’s core city-regions.

Better connections will support economic growth. Leeds City Region, for example, hopes that its £1bn West Yorkshire "‘plus" Transport Fund will create a 2 per cent increase in the region’s economic output and 20,000 extra jobs. Strategic investment in new stations, roads and public transport networks could have a dramatic impact on the daily commute.

People’s daily lives and commutes do not reflect arbitrary council boundaries, so another positive to have emerged from the Deals has been councils which are increasingly willing to work together to make investments. Greater Manchester’s councils combined strategy for a new Metrolink is a demonstration of the benefits of this approach. Such collaborative governance arrangements will prevent the jam-spreading of funds that can harm local areas.

The next step for the core cities will be to ensure they deliver on the ground. There is more work for central government to do as well. Greg Clark has said that this is just round one of City Deals. 142 upper-tier councils don’t have a Deal. A devolution bill could package up some of the powers in the City Deals allowing all areas to invest for local growth.

Greg Clark, the minister in charge of City Deals. Photograph: Getty Images

Joe is a senior researcher at the New Local Government Network

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I can’t follow Marie Kondo's advice – even an empty Wotsits packet “sparks joy” in me

I thought I’d give her loopy, OCD theories a go, but when I held up an empty Wotsits bag I was suffused with so many happy memories of the time we’d spent together that I couldn’t bear to throw it away.

I have been brooding lately on the Japanese tidying freak Marie Kondo. (I forgot her name so I typed “Japanese tidying freak” into Google, and it was a great help.) The “Japanese” bit is excusable in this context, and explains a bit, as I gather Japan is more on the case with the whole “being tidy” thing than Britain, but still.

Apart from telling us that we need to take an enormous amount of care, to the point where we perform origami when we fold our underpants, which is pretty much where she lost me, she advises us to throw away anything that does not, when you hold it, “spark joy”. Perhaps I have too much joy in my life. I thought I’d give her loopy, OCD theories a go, but when I held up an empty Wotsits bag I was suffused with so many happy memories of the time we’d spent together that I couldn’t bear to throw it away.

After a while I gave up on this because I was getting a bit too happy with all the memories, so then I thought to myself, about her: “This is someone who isn’t getting laid enough,” and then I decided that was a crude and ungallant thought, and besides, who am I to wag the finger? At least if she invites someone to her bedroom no one is going to run screaming from it, as they would if I invited anyone to my boudoir. (Etym: from the French “bouder”, to sulk. How very apt in my case.) Marie Kondo – should bizarre circumstance ever conspire to bring her to the threshold – would run screaming from the Hovel before she’d even alighted the stairs from the front door.

I contemplate my bedroom. As I write, the cleaning lady is in it. To say that I have to spend half an hour cleaning out empty Wotsits packets, and indeed wotnot, before I let her in there should give you some idea of how shameful it has got. And even then I have to pay her to do so.

A girlfriend who used to be referred to often in these pages, though I think the term should be a rather less flippant one than “girlfriend”, managed to get round my natural messiness problem by inventing a game called “keep or chuck”.

She even made up a theme song for it, to the tune from the old Spiderman TV show. She would show me some object, which was not really rubbish, but usually a book (it may not surprise you to learn that it is the piles of books that cause most of the clutter here), and say, “Keep or chuck?” in the manner of a high-speed game show host. At one point I vacillated and so she then pointed at herself and said, “Keep or chuck?” I got the message.

These days the chances of a woman getting into the bedroom are remote. For one thing, you can’t just walk down the street and whistle for one much as one would hail a cab, although my daughter is often baffled by my ability to attract females, and suspects I have some kind of “mind ray”. Well, if I ever did it’s on the blink now, and not only that – right now, I’m not even particularly bothered that it’s on the blink. Because, for another thing, I would frankly not care to inflict myself upon anyone else at the moment.

It was all a bit of a giggle eight years ago, when I was wheeled out of the family home and left to my own devices. Of course, when I say “a bit of a giggle”, I mean “terrifying and miserable”, but I had rather fewer miles on the clock than I do now, and a man can, I think, get away with a little bit more scampish behaviour, and entertain a few more illusions about the future and his own plausibility as a character, when he is squarely in his mid-forties than when he is approaching, at speed, his middle fifties.

Death has rather a lot to do with it, I suppose. I had not actually seen, or touched, a dead body until I saw, and touched, my own father’s a few weeks ago. That’s what turns an abstract into a concrete reality. You finally put that to one side and gird up your loins – and then bloody David Bowie snuffs it, and you find yourself watching the videos for “Blackstar” and “Lazarus” over and over again, and reach the inescapable conclusion that death is not only incredibly unpleasant, it is also remorseless and very much nearer than you think.

And would you, dear reader, want to be involved with anyone who kept thinking along those lines? I mean, even if he learned how to fold his undercrackers into an upright cylinder, like a napkin at a fancy restaurant, before putting them in his drawer? When he doesn’t even have a drawer?

Nicholas Lezard is a literary critic for the Guardian and also writes for the Independent. He writes the Down and Out in London column for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war