The New Towns have made us a better nation

If Labour wants something to be proud of, it should look no further than Britain's New Towns.

Very rarely, I go to a political event in SW1. One of the (many) reasons I don't like them is the disappointment I see etched onto the face of people when I answer their question: "And where do you work?". They don't like the corporate answer (I don't work in politics, the law, or journalism, and whatever people say on radio phone-ins, they don't really want to listen to a disquisition about "science") but they particularly dislike the literal, geographical answer: Stevenage. I work in Stevenage. What's more, I think it's a beautiful town.

Would you like to live or work in a New Town? I bet I can guess the answer to that question. Yet I have a fondness for the ones I've known, and I wonder why the Labour movement doesn't make more of these creations of the Left. Those of us on the Tory side of things make a big and constant noise about the failure of the very concept of central planning, particularly, of course, when it comes to the economy, but also with regard to provision of health care, policing strategies, and increasingly educational services (I can't believe I just typed "educational services". I meant "schools". I'm going to leave it unchanged as a warning to my future self). But you'll notice we never talked much about New Towns. It's not just, I think, because the original corporations have long been wound up. Maybe it's also true that they are the left-wing exception that proves the Tory rule.

The centre of Stevenage is beautiful: pleasing, not fearful, symmetries abound. It's clear you're not in Bath, but neither are you on Pluto. It still feels like a town centre, and if the fountain in the main square is a little forlorn, well and so what? It's a kinetic link to a more optimistic decade. You can walk from the train station, past an Arts Centre and theatre, through a bus station, past the shops (chains and independents), take an underpass and arrive at one of the country's best swimming pools - in ten minutes. Yes, Stevenage town centre was centrally planned; yes, the decades might not have been kind to concrete. But it works. As a living town centre, it works.

Before Stevenage, I worked in Harlow, and lived there too, and once was proudly elected to its council (biggest swing in Essex you know), and I love the town, the centre of which has enjoyed a facelift in recent years. It's a town of neighbourhoods. Potter Street is a different place, with a different feel, to Katherines or Sumners. Islands of houses surrounded by lots of green space and cycle lanes. There are probably too many cars in Harlow now for maximum comfort, but you can still sense what Gibberd saw in his mind's eye, and it still makes sense.

Something about New Towns created a spirit of - well, I hate to use the word "solidarity" [Yes, but it's what you mean - Ed]. But a town without an inbuilt squirearchy is made to be at ease with itself. I'm delighted (understatement of the year) that Rob Halfon represents Harlow in Parliament now, after a near decade of street-level campaigning, but I remember fondly too his predecessor, the Labour MP Bill Rammell, approachably sweaty in the town gym. Part of being "Harlow" is to judge incomers fairly, because nearly everyone "came in", not that long ago. I had fewer negative comments there about my sexuality, or Scottish accent, than anywhere else I've lived. Neither was there any sectarian hatred of the sort I grew up with in Scotland. That didn't make the political culture anodyne. The Labour-Tory battle in Harlow is constant and intense but strangely decent. It is of Harlow. I once had a furious row about Margaret Thatcher with a man in the swimming pool sauna. That we were both naked at the time seemed fitting: in New Towns, it's what you make of yourself that matters, not the clothes you dress up in.

New Towns are not Utopias, as my cold Tory eye couldn't fail to notice. Hierarchies (at least of the architectural or postcode form) have begun to evolve, whatever the planners intended. But these towns don't deserve the press they've received over the years. Much as I love Angus Wilson, the neuroticism he depicts in the protagonists of his novel Late Call do not deserve to be ascribed, as the subliminal sense of the plot suggests, to the New Town in which they find themselves living. More fitting are the words of Alasdair Gray: Work as if you live in the early days of a better nation. The New Towns have made us a better nation; they are the still-young proof that it is, despite everything, possible to obey Gray's dictum with the bricks and fields of a man-made town. Were I of the Left, I would never shut up about them.

Graeme Archer is the 2011 Orwell Prize winner for blogging.

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PMQs review: Jeremy Corbyn prompts Tory outrage as he blames Grenfell Tower fire on austerity

To Conservative cries of "shame on you!", the Labour leader warned that "we all pay a price in public safety" for spending cuts.

A fortnight after the Grenfell Tower fire erupted, the tragedy continues to cast a shadow over British politics. Rather than probing Theresa May on the DUP deal, Jeremy Corbyn asked a series of forensic questions on the incident, in which at least 79 people are confirmed to have died.

In the first PMQs of the new parliament, May revealed that the number of buildings that had failed fire safety tests had risen to 120 (a 100 per cent failure rate) and that the cladding used on Grenfell Tower was "non-compliant" with building regulations (Corbyn had asked whether it was "legal").

After several factual questions, the Labour leader rose to his political argument. To cries of "shame on you!" from Tory MPs, he warned that local authority cuts of 40 per cent meant "we all pay a price in public safety". Corbyn added: “What the tragedy of Grenfell Tower has exposed is the disastrous effects of austerity. The disregard for working-class communities, the terrible consequences of deregulation and cutting corners." Corbyn noted that 11,000 firefighters had been cut and that the public sector pay cap (which Labour has tabled a Queen's Speech amendment against) was hindering recruitment. "This disaster must be a wake-up call," he concluded.

But May, who fared better than many expected, had a ready retort. "The cladding of tower blocks did not start under this government, it did not start under the previous coalition governments, the cladding of tower blocks began under the Blair government," she said. “In 2005 it was a Labour government that introduced the regulatory reform fire safety order which changed the requirements to inspect a building on fire safety from the local fire authority to a 'responsible person'." In this regard, however, Corbyn's lack of frontbench experience is a virtue – no action by the last Labour government can be pinned on him. 

Whether or not the Conservatives accept the link between Grenfell and austerity, their reluctance to defend continued cuts shows an awareness of how politically vulnerable they have become (No10 has announced that the public sector pay cap is under review).

Though Tory MP Philip Davies accused May of having an "aversion" to policies "that might be popular with the public" (he demanded the abolition of the 0.7 per cent foreign aid target), there was little dissent from the backbenches – reflecting the new consensus that the Prime Minister is safe (in the absence of an attractive alternative).

And May, whose jokes sometimes fall painfully flat, was able to accuse Corbyn of saying "one thing to the many and another thing to the few" in reference to his alleged Trident comments to Glastonbury festival founder Michael Eavis. But the Labour leader, no longer looking fearfully over his shoulder, displayed his increased authority today. Though the Conservatives may jeer him, the lingering fear in Tory minds is that they and the country are on divergent paths. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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