An open letter to Eric Pickles

People are losing control of the public spaces they love. Give local councils a say over betting sho

People are losing control of the public spaces they love. Give local councils a say over betting shops.

Dear Mr Pickles,

I'm writing to invite you to Peckham. People here feel that their high streets are being inundated with betting shops. They feel that they are losing control of the public spaces they love. They look to me and my fellow councillors for leadership, but at present we don't have any meaningful powers to change things. You have the ability to grant us that authority, and we want to show you why.

High Streets First is a new campaign I've launched with the grassroots group Grasp asking you to give local councils a say over betting shops. We launched last week and broke 1,000 signatures in two days. Endorsements came in from MPs including Tom Watson, David Lammy and Harriet Harman. Conservative Councillor David Parsons and the LGA pledged their support for reform. Owen Jones and the blogs got on board. We received great press coverage, and more is on its way.

If you accept invitation an invitation to our borough, I'd start by giving you a tour. At present there are 77 betting shops in Southwark, and more are opening up as businesses close in the downturn. Local people are not against gambling, but they are against this kind of proliferation. On a map, it looks something like this:

map

Map: Harriet Harman MP. The Problem of Betting Shops. November 2011

I don't know how many betting shops there are in your Brentwood and Ongar constituency. I imagine less, because research from the Responsible Gambling Fund suggests they are clustering machines in areas that are poorest. In Southwark the average family income is £17k, and I pass eight bookies on the ten-minute walk to my council surgery.

Dirk Vennix, head of the Association of British Bookmakers, says that betting shops can bring life to empty high streets. I don't doubt that's true in some cases, but that's not happening here. People in Peckham say they are fuelling debt, addiction and anti-social behaviour. They say they are putting off other businesses by blighting the high street.

Some of the biggest concerns come from people who are in the betting industry themselves. This is what one manager from Camberwell, where there are five bookies within 200m, told me:

"In the area I'm in there aren't that many rich people coming in. People who are unemployed, people who are on benefits, and you get a lot of retired men coming in to pass the time. You get younger lot coming in thinking they're going to earn money. Seriously... we're quite close to the Maudsley (hospital for mental health) and we get people who are homeless wanting to double their money... some of the stores open at 7am and we get people coming in and spending their whole day going from one shop to the other, especially people with no money."

"...you have to deal with all sorts of personalities, and some can be very nasty. They do get violent as well. They kick the machines when they're losing. I've seen people pick up stalls and smash them over the machines. They're rude to me but it's just part of the job..."

"...I see people come in from the pawn shops and pay day loan shops, people who pawn their phone chasing their money (that's already been lost). You get to know the customers and they give you their life story and they take advantage. They say "borrow me £1 or £2 and I'll pay you back as soon as I've won". Sometimes they ask you just for a drink or something to eat. Some genuinely don't have the money for that at the end of the day."

This manager says he hates his job, but he does it to pay the bills and look after his daughter. His real dream is to be a youth worker, but there aren't that many opportunities available right now.

Local residents also have their concerns. Georgina Green, secretary of Consort Residents Association, is one of the hundreds who are leaving messages of support on our petition and via email:

Personally feel its morally wrong to encourage folk to gamble, yes to personal choice just not when every other shop screams lose your money to an already stressed out and depressed populous!

This isn't just an issue for Southwark. A number of local councils have tried to challenge unpopular new betting shops and failed. Recently a group of female councillors in Leeds lost a battle to stop a new Ladbrokes opening in the entrance to their historic Morley's market. More concerns have been raised in Northampton. Lewisham has also run into difficulties.

Your own independent review into high streets by Mary Portas recommended you grant local councils the power to decide how many betting shops they want on their streets. Doing this seems consistent with your proud and vocal commitment to localism, and it doesn't cost a penny. Local democracy should be a principle, not a gamble.

Please put High Streets First, and come to Peckham.

Yours,

Cllr Rowenna Davis

Rowenna Davis is a councillor, journalist and author of Tangled up in Blue: Blue Labour and the Struggle for Labour's Soul, published by Ruskin Publishing at £8.99. She is also a Labour councillor.

Rowenna Davis is Labour PPC for Southampton Itchen and a councillor for Peckham

Felipe Araujo
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Hull revisited: What happens when a Brexit stronghold becomes City of Culture?

We report from Hull, to find out if you can replace the kind of nostalgia that led to a Leave vote with cultural investment.

At 75 metres long, the offshore wind turbine blade erected across Queen Victoria Square, in the heart of Hull, is a sculpture intended to mark a new chapter in the city’s history. For the next 12 months, Hull, a city of more than a quarter of a million people in the northeast of England, will be the UK’s City of Culture.

The 28-tonne blade hails from the local Siemens plant. The German technology company employs around 1,000 people in the area, making it Hull’s biggest single employer.

Seen up close in this context – laid dormant in the middle of a town square instead of spinning up in the air generating energy – the structure is meant to remind passersby of a giant sea creature. It is also, I’m told, an allusion to Hull’s rich maritime history.


All photos: Felipe Araujo

Nostalgia is a big thing in this part of the country. At one point, Hull was the UK’s third largest port but technology and privatisation drastically changed that. The battle over cod fishing with Iceland in the waters of the North Sea 40 years ago has also dealt a major blow to a region with a long and proud trawling tradition.

People here still talk about a bygone era when the fishing industry provided jobs for everyone and there was enough money to go around.

Fast forward to 2017, and the country’s new capital of culture is the same city that voted 67 per cent in favour of leaving the EU last June. Its new-found prestige, it seems, is not enough to erase years of neglect by a political class “too busy for commoners like us”, as one resident puts it.

“More than a message to Brussels, it [the Brexit vote] was a message to Westminster,” Paul Leeson-Taylor, a filmmaker born and bred in Hull, tells me. “For the first time in a long time people in Hull felt like they had the chance to change something, and they took it.”

But while speaking to people on the high street and hanging out with locals at the Community Boxing Club in Orchard Park, one of the city’s most deprived areas, there is one word that consistently popped up in conversation – more than any specific policy from Westminster or the much-hated rules “dictated” by Brussels. Foreigners.

According to official figures, Hull’s population is 89.1 per cent white British. Still, immigration is big on people’s minds here.

During my two-day stay in the city, I find myself being the only black person in most places I visit – I’m certainly the only black guy at the boxing club. So when someone begins a sentence with “I’m not racist but…”, I know a tirade on immigrants is about to ensue.

“There are just too many of them,” Nick Beach, an estate agent whose Polish clientele is a big part of his business, tells me as he is about to teach a boxing class to local children. Beach was born in Shepherd’s Bush, in West London, but has been living in Hull for the last 20 years.

“When I go down there these days and go into Westfield shopping centre, it is very rare you get an English person serving you now,” he says. “I just find it disappointing that you go into your capital city and you are a minority there.”

These are the much-discussed “left behind”, a white working-class community that has gained particular prominence in a time of Brexit and Donald Trump. Under economic pressure and facing social change, they want to have their say in running a country they claim to no longer recognise.

For Professor Simon Lee, a senior politics lecturer at the University of Hull, immigration is only a superficial layer when it comes to explaining the resentment I witness here. For him, the loss of the empire 70 years ago is still something that as a country Britain hasn’t come to terms with.

“The reason for us to be together as a United Kingdom has gone, so what is the project?”

As destiny would have it, a foreign company will now play a major role on Hull’s economic future, at least in the short term. In the wake of the Brexit vote, there were widespread fears Siemens would pull out of the region and take its factory elsewhere. With the massive blade looming large in the background, Jason Speedy, director of the blade factory in Hull, assures me that isn’t the case.

“The Brexit decision has made no difference. We have made our investment decision, so Siemens, together with the Association of British Ports, has put in £310m. It’s all full steam ahead.”

As Hull becomes the country’s cultural hub for the next few months, the hope is that its residents stop looking back and start looking forward.

For Professor Lee, though, until there is a complete change in the power structures that run the country, the north-south divide will remain – with or without the EU. “The way you kill nostalgia is to have something new,” he said. “The reason why people here are nostalgic is because there is nothing to replace it with.”

Felipe Araujo is a freelance journalist based in London. He writes about race, culture and sports. He covered the Rio Olympics and Paralympics on the ground for the New Statesman. He tweets @felipethejourno.