Much has been written about privatisation in Britain. Those looking for a good introductory text on the topic should consult Anna Minton’s book Ground Control (published by Penguin in 2009). She points out that the privatisation of towns and cities affects more than our personal freedoms, in terms of where we can go and what we can do. It also affects who gains and who loses in terms of local economies.
Who does well out of privatised urban space and who pays the price is obvious in the economic hothouse of London and the south-east of England. In the former industrial cities of the north the contrast is even more marked.
Liverpool and Merseyside saw extensive rioting in the early 1980s in response to Margaret Thatcher’s economic experiment. After Toxteth and other parts of Merseyside went up in flames, the area was singled out as a test case for regeneration through privatisation by successive governments. Since the riots, a range of private sector-oriented local quangos have taken the lead on privatisation. These quangos often took over functions previously performed by democratically-elected councils, with whom relationships were strained. In many cases, quangos have operated with only limited public accountability.
Under this arrangement, the creeping transfer of public space to private hands and the economic consequences for ordinary people have continued effectively below the radar in Merseyside. However, two unrelated news stories briefly lifted the lid on the process.
The first event, seemingly far removed from the issue of land ownership, arose from comments made by Ringo Starr. Due to play a series of near-sell-out gigs in his home city next month, he wants to heal a long-running rift with his fellow Scousers.
The former Beatle had become a figure of disdain for many in Liverpool as a result of a 2008 interview, in which he gave the impression that he missed nothing about his home city. This was taken badly by the locals, more than 30,000 of whom had turned out days before to see Ringo play the drums on the roof of the city’s St George’s Hall and hear him publicly profess his love for Liverpool, at that time the European Capital of Culture.
Now Ringo has sought to set the record straight – a wise move before facing an audience at the Liverpool Empire. What he had to say is relevant for an ongoing issue in Liverpool – the transfer of much of the city’s housing land to a few large builders.
Ringo grew up at Number 9 Madryn Street, Liverpool 8 – just a rioter’s stone throw from the scene of some of 1981’s most serious unrest. His former home has now been approved for demolition. Asked about this, he said he would like to see the property saved if it could be preserved as a viable home, but saw no point in keeping it as a museum piece – an option that has been considered.
What the Madryn Street case reveals is the disaster that has befallen much of Liverpool’s inner-city housing and the housing stock of neighbouring Bootle and Birkenhead.
The ill-fated Housing Market Renewal Initiative was a government programme designed to assist in the removal of old, hard to sell or rent, inner-city housing, and intended to encourage its replacement with homes fit for the 21st century.
The aim was laudable, but the reality was different. As the three local authorities involved in the initiative used public funds to compensate and clear existing residents from their homes, they also signed deals with major private sector house builders. These builders intended to construct bigger and more expensive housing in place of the cleared Victorian and Edwardian terraces. The developers would gain from profits made by this subsidised land acquisition. The local authorities would gain from returns on council tax and the marketing of the regenerated areas. The only people to lose out would be the former residents who, in most cases, would be unable to afford the new more expensive homes – unless they were famous drummers.
That was the plan. But, like so many other plans, it has fallen apart as a consequence of the economic crash. The collapse in the construction industry means builders no longer have any enthusiasm for building in inner-city Merseyside. So, having been cleared of most of its residents Madryn Street, including Ringo’s old house, now resembles an urban wasteland.
Former Liberal Democrat City Council leader Warren Bradley, who issued a public apology for the Housing Market Initiative just days before the May 2010 local elections, admitted the programme had “ripped the heart out of Liverpool communities” and left them “like war zones”. His administration was unceremoniously ejected from office several days later, and his party subsequently decimated at last month’s city elections.
Another event of note took place in the post-war satellite new town of Kirkby – the setting for the 1960s’ police drama Z Cars. Much of Kirkby, now within the Metropolitan Borough of Knowsley, still has a distinctly ’60s concrete feel to it.
Now Eric Pickles, the Secretary of State for Communities and Local Government, has decided to back Knowsley council’s decision to redevelop the town centre. Effectively, this plan centres on a Tesco superstore and associated big chain retail units, with substantial provision for car parking. These plans would have a major impact on existing retail businesses in Kirkby and have sparked considerable debate.
Many residents contend that Tesco would destroy the existing retail area. Others say it would secure the future of existing businesses. While the council promotes the possibility of 300 new jobs, no one seems to have calculated how many jobs will be lost if existing shops are forced out of business. The more pragmatic accept that current employment opportunities in small and independent stores will be replaced by jobs at Tesco, as the town centre is effectively turned over to the super store. Pickles’ decision surprised many, as earlier proposals for a Tesco store in Kirkby were the subject of a public inquiry in 2009 and then rejected, principally on the grounds of the impact that the store would have on surrounding retail areas. Evidently, times have changed. Certainly, Kirkby is not alone in the methods proposed for its makeover.
St Helens, the nearest town to the east, has already gone ahead with a giant Tesco of its own. To the west, Sefton has rejected a Sainsbury’s store in the traditional town centre of Crosby, but is now expecting to receive revised proposals from the same supermarket giant. Meanwhile, to the south, a major regeneration scheme in Everton is based on another massive Sainsbury’s.
Perhaps Merseyside is supposed to eat its way out of recession. Morrison’s has already replaced the former Speke District Centre and will soon dominate New Brighton. Asda will have changed the shape of Birkenhead town centre by the end of this year. In all these cases, the employment opportunities created and the revenues generated will be increasingly dependent on supermarket giants, as local communities become one-horse towns in terms of land ownership and management.
Anna Minton makes much of the flagship transfer of a major section of Liverpool City Centre to private ownership – Grosvenor Estate’s construction of the Liverpool One shopping centre. When Liverpool One opened, there was much discussion about its potential impact on the rest of the city centre. In the end, the accepted logic was that Liverpool One would complement other facilities and not undermine existing traders.
In the face of creeping decline in traditional parts of the city centre, those promoting the privatisation of urban space in Merseyside now assert that the closures which followed the opening of Liverpool One are a temporary aberration. We are unlikely to see any rigorous examination of the truth of such claims.
But the transfer of ownership remains unquestioned, as councils across Merseyside compete desperately for any form of economic activity. Meanwhile, strategic policymakers are concentrated in the current incarnations of local regeneration quangos. These bodies, which have metamorphosed to survive the Government’s “bonfire of the quangos”, remain opaque, largely unaccountable and geared towards the private sector.
Perhaps, if more people knew of their existence, they might start asking questions. For instance, how is it that some members of the team that built Liverpool One are now part of the Local Enterprise Partnership quango? How has this crossover of interests and personnel affected policy on Merseyside?
Much of the privatisation of our urban space is being managed behind closed doors. Perhaps we need to put our shoulders to those doors before another rioting season begins.
Steve Cook is a Unison officer in Merseyside. He writes in a personal capacity.
