No escape from Mammon? The Shard, near London Bridge. Photo: Cityscape Digital
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Leader: The London question

The capital’s economic dominance ensures that investing in it will produce a higher return than in other regions and makes it difficult to justify investing elsewhere. This logic merely tightens London’s stranglehold. 

The referendum on Scottish independence is not a vote about Scotland,” Danny Dorling writes in his essay on page 26. “It is a vote about London.” More than for any other comparable European country, the capital of the United Kingdom – Europe’s only true megacity – dominates national life. With just 13 per cent of the population, London produces 22 per cent of the UK’s wealth; through major projects such as Crossrail, it swallows a disproportionate share of its infrastructure funding. The Institute for Public Policy Research estimates that per-capita transport spending in London is 500 times as much as that in the north-east of England.

London’s economic dominance ensures that investing in the capital will produce a higher return than doing so in other regions. That makes it difficult to justify investing elsewhere. This logic merely tightens London’s stranglehold. Consequently, when the Yes Scotland campaign warns Scots of the dangers of voting No, it makes references to being ruled not by the English but by London. Indeed, in his New Statesman lecture in March, Alex Salmond likened London to a dark star, “inexorably sucking in resources, people and energy”.

On the question of the north-south divide, it is tempting to view the UK as a rich country in which only a few de­industrialised regions have fallen behind. However, it is London and its wealth that are the true outliers. New figures from Inequality Briefing showed that Britain has nine of the ten poorest areas in the whole of northern Europe. In parts of Wales and in Cornwall, the average income is less than £14,000 a year: once living costs are taken into account, this leaves residents poorer than many in the former communist states of eastern Europe.

Inner London, by contrast, is the single richest region in Europe. If our leaders and the deracinated plutocrats who gather in the capital seem unconcerned about the relative poverty of much of Britain, it is because they live within the walls of Versailles.

This is not only iniquitous; it is potentially disastrous for the rest of the country. It puts increasing pressure on housing stock in the south-east of England, driving up prices and leaving many of us ever more addicted to debt. It raises the cost of doing business in London, rendering the capital increasingly uncompetitive, while draining skills and expertise from other regions. It forces people to commute ever longer distances to work and leaves them captives of our train companies. Worst of all, it makes the national economy especially vulnerable to global financial shocks.

The leaders of both major parties are belatedly discussing devolving power from Westminster to the English regions and additional powers to the other nations of the UK. The main cities, meanwhile, are being encouraged to follow London’s example and set up combined authorities: resurrected versions of the old metropolitan counties, back from the dead to plot grand regional infrastructure plans.

However, all these plans are built on the assumption that the Treasury will retain ultimate control of the purse strings. New powers would be exercised only on sufferance from Westminster. It is unclear, too, whether political devolution will be enough to solve the problem of London’s dominance, without incentives to encourage private investors to invest in the regions. That might require some kind of regional banking system such as exists in Germany.

Professor Dorling proposes a different path: a return to the sort of government intervention that has been unfashionable for a generation. He favours more regulation of private rental markets; more publicly funded housebuilding; and changes to land use rules, such as the greenbelt. It would require having a plan for London. “The free market does not co-ordinate spatially and temporally. It reacts rather than instigates,” he writes.

If we are serious about reducing London’s stranglehold over the United Kingdom, trusting to the free market will never be enough. 

This article first appeared in the 27 August 2014 issue of the New Statesman, The new caliphate

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"We repealed, then forgot": the long shadow of Section 28 homophobia

Why are deeply conservative views about the "promotion" of homosexuality still being reiterated to Scottish school pupils? 

Grim stories of LGBTI children being bullied in school are all too common. But one which emerged over the weekend garnered particular attention - because of the echoes of the infamous Section 28, nearly two decades after it was scrapped.

A 16-year-old pupil of a West Lothian school, who does not wish to be named, told Pink News that staff asked him to remove his small rainbow pride badge because, though they had "no problem" with his sexuality, it was not appropriate to "promote it" in school. It's a blast from the past - the rules against "promoting" homosexuality were repealed in 2000 in Scotland, but the long legacy of Section 28 seems hard to shake off. 

The local authority responsible said in a statement that non-school related badges are not permitted on uniforms, and says it is "committed to equal rights for LGBT people". 

The small badge depicted a rainbow-striped heart, which the pupil said he had brought back from the Edinburgh Pride march the previous weekend. He reportedly "no longer feels comfortable going to school", and said homophobia from staff members felt "much more scar[y] than when I encountered the same from other pupils". 

At a time when four Scottish party leaders are gay, and the new Westminster parliament included a record number of LGBTQ MPs, the political world is making progress in promoting equality. But education, it seems, has not kept up. According to research from LGBT rights campaigners Stonewall, 40 per cent of LGBT pupils across the UK reported being taught nothing about LGBT issues at school. Among trans students, 44 per cent said school staff didn’t know what "trans" even means.

The need for teacher training and curriculum reform is at the top of campaigners' agendas. "We're disappointed but not surprised by this example," says Jordan Daly, the co-founder of Time for Inclusive Education [TIE]. His grassroots campaign focuses on making politicians and wider society aware of the reality LGBTI school students in Scotland face. "We're in schools on a monthly basis, so we know this is by no means an isolated incident." 

Studies have repeatedly shown a startling level of self-harm and mental illness reported by LGBTI school students. Trans students are particularly at risk. In 2015, Daly and colleagues began a tour of schools. Shocking stories included one in which a teacher singled out a trans pupils for ridicule in front of the class. More commonly, though, staff told them the same story: we just don't know what we're allowed to say about gay relationships. 

This is the point, according to Daly - retraining, or rather the lack of it. For some of those teachers trained during the 1980s and 1990s, when Section 28 prevented local authorities from "promoting homosexuality", confusion still reigns about what they can and cannot teach - or even mention in front of their pupils. 

The infamous clause was specific in its homophobia: the "acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship" could not be mentioned in schools. But it's been 17 years since the clause was repealed in Scotland - indeed, it was one of the very first acts of the new Scottish Parliament (the rest of the UK followed suit three years later). Why are we still hearing this archaic language? 

"We repealed, we clapped and cheered, and then we just forgot," Daly says. After the bitter campaign in Scotland, in which an alliance of churches led by millionaire businessman Brian Souter poured money into "Keeping the Clause", the government was pleased with its victory, which seemed to establish Holyrood as a progressive political space early on in the life of the parliament. But without updating the curriculum or retraining teaching staff, Daly argues, it left a "massive vacuum" of uncertainty. 

The Stonewall research suggests a similar confusion is likely across the UK. Daly doesn't believe the situation in Scotland is notably worse than in England, and disputes the oft-cited allegation that the issue is somehow worse in Scotland's denominational schools. Homophobia may be "wrapped up in the language of religious belief" in certain schools, he says, but it's "just as much of a problem elsewhere. The TIE campaign doesn't have different strategies for different schools." 

After initial disappointments - their thousands-strong petition to change the curriculum was thrown out by parliament in 2016 - the campaign has won the support of leaders such as Nicola Sturgeon and Kezia Dugdale, and recently, the backing of a majority of MSPs. The Scottish government has set up a working group, and promised a national strategy. 

But for Daly, who himself struggled at a young age with his sexuality and society's failure to accept it, the matter remains an urgent one.  At just 21, he can reel off countless painful stories of young LGBTI students - some of which end in tragedy. One of the saddest elements of the story from St Kentigern's is that the pupil claimed his school was the safest place he had to express his identity, because he was not out at home. Perhaps for a gay pupil in ten years time, that will be a guarantee. 

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