Growing cities: invest now or pay later

Towns which were doing well in 1901 are still the best now; lack of progress is hard to turn around.

Investment in skills and infrastructure has a crucial bearing on the long run growth prospects of city economies. It did in the 20th century and it will in the 21st century. But the UK still falls well behind other countries, particularly the Nordic ones, when it comes to investment in education, and spend on transport has fallen sharply in recent years.

Centre for Cities latest report Cities Outlook 1901 provides new insight into urban economies at the beginning of the 20th century to understand how and why cities have changed, and crucially what policy makers can do to improve the prospects of cities for the future.

It tells us that history matters. Over the course of the 20th century the importance of major ports and manufacturing centres declined as the economy shifted towards services. Liverpool, once the UK’s second city, now ranks in the bottom 20 per cent for overall economic performance.

Cities are not prisoners of their past; urban economies evolve and adapt to changing economic circumstances. But this change often takes decades. Economic outcomes are the result of the complex interaction of many factors, from a city’s skills base and industrial profile to its links with other cities and the nature of global economic change.

Policy nevertheless has an important role to play. One of the most important factors in determining economic success of a city since 1901 was its skills base: towns and cities with higher level skills in 1901 have tended to do much better over the long run. This highlights that government needs to ensure the skills system is fit for purpose and continues to adapt to the needs of a rapidly changing global economy.

Whilst overall the gap has widened between the North and South over the 20th century, several cities have bucked wide spatial trends. Preston, Warrington and Swindon have seen their relative position improve dramatically. Investment in roads, railways, new homes and business premises facilitated the growth and diversification of these economies. And today these cities are some of the best performing in the country.

The overly centralised nature of governance in the UK further compounds the problem as cities have limited ability to respond in ways that reflect their economic history and unique circumstances today. The latest City Deals marks one of the biggest shifts towards greater devolution to cities but there’s still a long way to go.

The findings reinforce the importance of investing in the fundamental drivers of growth to get the UK firmly on the road to economic recovery and growth. The sad fact is though, while it has long been recognised, the UK falls well behind international economies when it comes to investment in these areas. Relative to GDP, Denmark invests 1.5 times more in education than the UK.

In the short-term, spending cuts on these key drivers of urban growth will stifle the UK recovery and cost more in the long run. The UK must invest now or it will pay later.

Tower Bridge, circa 1900. Photograph: Getty Images

Naomi Clayton is a senior analyst at Centre for Cities

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Erdogan’s purge was too big and too organised to be a mere reaction to the failed coup

There is a specific word for the melancholy of Istanbul. The city is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. 

Even at the worst of times Istanbul is a beautiful city, and the Bosphorus is a remarkable stretch of sea. Turks get very irritated if you call it a river. They are right. The Bosphorus has a life and energy that a river could never equal. Spend five minutes watching the Bosphorus and you can understand why Orhan Pamuk, Turkey’s Nobel laureate for literature, became fixated by it as he grew up, tracking the movements of the ocean-going vessels, the warships and the freighters as they steamed between Asia and Europe.

I went to an Ottoman palace on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, waiting to interview the former prime minister Ahmet Davu­toglu. He was pushed out of office two months ago by President Recep Tayyip Erdogan when he appeared to be too wedded to the clauses in the Turkish constitution which say that the prime minister is the head of government and the president is a ceremonial head of state. Erdogan was happy with that when he was prime minister. But now he’s president, he wants to change the constitution. If Erdogan can win the vote in parliament he will, in effect, be rubber-stamping the reality he has created since he became president. In the days since the attempted coup, no one has had any doubt about who is the power in the land.

 

City of melancholy

The view from the Ottoman palace was magnificent. Beneath a luscious, pine-shaded garden an oil tanker plied its way towards the Black Sea. Small ferries dodged across the sea lanes. It was not, I hasten to add, Davutoglu’s private residence. It had just been borrowed, for the backdrop. But it reminded a Turkish friend of something she had heard once from the AKP, Erdogan’s ruling party: that they would not rest until they were living in the apartments with balconies and gardens overlooking the Bosphorus that had always been the preserve of the secular elite they wanted to replace.

Pamuk also writes about hüzün, the melancholy that afflicts the citizens of Istanbul. It comes, he says, from the city’s history and its decline, the foghorns on the Bosphorus, from tumbledown walls that have been ruins since the fall of the Byzantine empire, unemployed men in tea houses, covered women waiting for buses that never come, pelting rain and dark evenings: the city’s whole fabric and all the lives within it. “My starting point,” Pamuk wrote, “was the emotion that a child might feel while looking through a steamy window.”

Istanbul is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. In Pamuk’s work the citizens of Istanbul take a perverse pride in hüzün. No one in Istanbul, or elsewhere in Turkey, can draw comfort from what is happening now. Erdogan’s opponents wonder what kind of future they can have in his Turkey. I think I sensed it, too, in the triumphalist crowds of Erdogan supporters that have been gathering day after day since the coup was defeated.

 

Down with the generals

Erdogan’s opponents are not downcast because the coup failed; a big reason why it did was that it had no public support. Turks know way too much about the authoritarian ways of military rule to want it back. The melancholy is because Erdogan is using the coup to entrench himself even more deeply in power. The purge looks too far-reaching, too organised and too big to have been a quick reaction to the attempt on his power. Instead it seems to be a plan that was waiting to be used.

Turkey is a deeply unhappy country. It is hard to imagine now, but when the Arab uprisings happened in 2011 it seemed to be a model for the Middle East. It had elections and an economy that worked and grew. When I asked Davutoglu around that time whether there would be a new Ottoman sphere of influence for the 21st century, he smiled modestly, denied any such ambition and went on to explain that the 2011 uprisings were the true succession to the Ottoman empire. A century of European, and then American, domination was ending. It had been a false start in Middle Eastern history. Now it was back on track. The people of the region were deciding their futures, and perhaps Turkey would have a role, almost like a big brother.

Turkey’s position – straddling east and west, facing Europe and Asia – is the key to its history and its future. It could be, should be, a rock of stability in a desperately un­stable part of the world. But it isn’t, and that is a problem for all of us.

 

Contagion of war

The coup did not come out of a clear sky. Turkey was in deep crisis before the attempt was made. Part of the problem has come from Erdogan’s divisive policies. He has led the AKP to successive election victories since it first won in 2002. But the policies of his governments have not been inclusive. As long as his supporters are happy, the president seems unconcerned about the resentment and opposition he is generating on the other side of politics.

Perhaps that was inevitable. His mission, as a political Islamist, was to change the country, to end the power of secular elites, including the army, which had been dominant since Mustafa Kemal Atatürk created modern Turkey after the collapse of the Ottoman empire. And there is also the influence of chaos and war in the Middle East. Turkey has borders with Iraq and Syria, and is deeply involved in their wars. The borders do not stop the contagion of violence. Hundreds of people have died in the past year in bomb attacks in Turkish cities, some carried out by the jihadists of so-called Islamic State, and some sent by Kurdish separatists working under the PKK.

It is a horrible mix. Erdogan might be able to deal with it better if he had used the attempted coup to try to unite Turkey. All the parliamentary parties condemned it. But instead, he has turned the power of the state against his opponents. More rough times lie ahead.

Jeremy Bowen is the BBC’s Middle East editor. He tweets @bowenbbc

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue