Ground Control
At the request of Esmaa Self, Twitter friend with an obviously cool surname, I thought I’d do a little review of Ground Control by Anna Minton. The book is about the social and psychological impact of British city and housing design, a topic which – to anyone who’s heard me go on about how nice the centre of Leeds is without cars – is clearly a topic close to my heart. It’s also an unabashed polemic against privatisation, the decline of local democracy and British attitudes towards shared spaces and crime.
Divided into three parts, the first – ‘The City’ – deals with the creeping privitisation of large areas of formerly public land in cities, to be policed and controlled by private security firms with their own rules about what behaviour is acceptable within. ‘The Home’ attacks the growth of gated communities and ‘defensible space’, which acts to increase fear of crime as well as strangers in general, robbing cities of the natural protection afforded by strangers in public places. It also lays into the termination of new social housebuilding under Thatcher, and the community-displacing regeneration projects of more recent years. Finally, ‘Civil Society’ challenges the idea that anti-social behaviour is at the root of further crime, arguing that policies such as Blair’s ‘Respect’ agenda are counter-productive in attempting to institutionalise that which can only ever really be provided organically by local communities.
I’m in two minds about this book, and although overall it is well deserving of being read, I’ll start with the negatives in order to end on the high which it deserves. Firstly: it’s perhaps obvious that this is the first full length book from a successful journalist, as there is sometimes an odd pacing which betrays a determination not to go for more than a couple of pages before repeating the central argument of the piece. (She also misuses the word ‘ironically’. Frequently.) More seriously, I’m wary of international comparisons which fall into the oft-repeated technique of reducing the US to wild freemarketism and ‘nice’ continental Europe. Consider the following:
“This is a very European way to enjoy life, window shopping, wandering around, doing nothing, going to the market, taking in the café society of the continental squares and piazzas… rather than spending our way out of recession, we need to look at real alternatives, based on a more European rather than American model, which will moderate the architecture of extreme capitalism…”
Really, though? Europe has one homogeneous model, stretching right across the continent? And before we write off America, shouldn’t we remember that this is the same country which maintains a ginormous system of National Parks? I’m not saying there’s nothing at all in the comparison, but it’s become such a trope that I’d like a little more nuance and case study rather than resorting to ‘Europe’ and ‘America’. Furthermore, it’s a dangerous path to go down, because if you associate ‘markets’ with ‘America’ (i.e. one side of a binary divide) then you lose the ability to suggest workable market mechanisms by which a different culture might be achieved. It is all very well suggesting that there is massive market failure in planning and housing – there is – but that doesn’t mean that the state cannot alter economic incentives in order to change things.
However, this shouldn’t obscure the fact that I do agree with the majority of Ground Control – its central arguments are largely valid, and on an issue which deserves wider public debate. It is important that shopping alone does not come to dominate city centres, and that we retain public, open spaces where citizens are governed by the common rule of law, not private security rules. If we don’t then politics becomes powerless, and so do people. Gated communities in Britain are as vile as they are totally unnecessary. Banning councils from investing ‘Right To Buy’ profits in more social housing was an unqualified policy disaster, fermenting the tensions which we see today being exploited by the likes of the BNP. And, more often than not, it is indeed fear of crime which is a far more debilitating problem than actual crime itself. Segregation by wealth will make both worse.
Minton is very polite, and so never says anything like ‘…and we need thriving British cities, not more suburbia’. So I’m going to say it instead: …and we need thriving British cities, not more suburbia. Suburbia can, of course, inculcate shared public spaces, but does it really have the scale to answer today’s problems? Young people complain that there is nothing to do, the elderly find local services increasingly deemed unsustainable (c.f. the Post Office), whilst everyone needs an alternative to the ghastly reliance on the private car to shuttle back and forwards from place to place without ever really travelling. And aren’t the cities best placed to provide that infrustructure, that diversity, that ‘hustle and bustle’ which Minton euphemistically refers to? A place has got to have more than shopping, but it’s also got to have more than housing plus the odd corner shop. British cities may have their problems, but they’re also worth fighting for, and we abandon them at our peril.
I’m stealing this from Saoirse, who in turn stole it from someone or other.
1. For a person you loved deeply, would you be willing to move to a distant country knowing there would be little chance of seeing your friends or family again?
Hmmph – not hugely keen on the idea – not for more than a couple of years anyway. Can’t I just persuade them to move to me?
2. Do you believe in ghosts and evil spirits? Would you be willing to spend a night alone in a remote house that is supposedly haunted?
No, and sure. It should be structurally sound, adequately protected by a locked door and fitted with a smoke alarm, though.
3. If you could spend one year in perfect happiness but afterward would remember nothing of the experience, would you do so?
No, I don’t think so. I’m suspicious of ‘perfect happiness’ – it sounds unhealthy.
4. If a new medicine was developed that would cure arthritis but cause a fatal reaction in 1% of those who took it, would you want it to be released to the public?
With the risks advertised, of course.
5. You discover your wonderful 1 yr old child is, because of a mixup at the hospital, not yours. Would you want to exchange the child to try to correct the mistake?
By that point, probably best not. Ideally you could all becomes friends anyway 
Continue Reading
There is a particular character, a Mr. Vince, who can occassionally be a tad difficult to get a firm hold of during the holidays. And so it was especially good to see Owen last Monday, when he joined a group of us for a binge of classic Doctor Who and then stayed on for the night. We originally went out that night for a quiet drink at Swiss Cottage, but the allure of Camden’s mango beer was too strong seeing as it is virtually down the road, and that started us out on a bit of a jaunt, which eventually led to the haven of Soho and – crucially – 24 hour cafés. It’s important, to me, to know that a toasted baguette could always be available in life should the moment call for it, and hence another reason why Owen and I agree that we couldn’t actually end up living in Cambridge, where there are manifestly no round-the-clock eating establishments. But back in London: a good night.
I then journeyed up to Cofton Hackett (no round-the-clock eating establishments unless you’re in the know ) to see Lucy, go bowling – poorly – and see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince which was, I have to say, unfulfilling by the usual Harry Potter movie standard. But the centrepiece event was Lucy’s ‘Northern’ [cough] dinner party on Friday night, which managed to bring about what is perhaps the highest state of being: drunken ABBA dancing…
Host!
Katy, Lou and Lucy
Lucy, ‘Twitterless Lou’ and Andy
Managing to control photo-autism here, actually
Dance dance!
Cofton: can you hack it?
The next day, Saoirse and Emily were able to stay on for a visit to Cadbury World. Despite their occassionally questionable historical reconstructions – either that or Mr. Cadbury was slipping a bit more than milk into his chocolate – it was a really great day out, and we all managed to form a quasi-family unit but without any of the squabbling. Oh, and let’s not forget the free chocolate! 
We even got the photo from the white-knuckle ride
(Three quarters of those tested could look into a camera)
Finally: when I got home today (OK, ‘yesterday’) I found that I’d won a prize! The ‘Cambridge Historical Prize – Historical Tripos Part 1 2009’ prize, to be exact, for my Themes and Sources essay. This is really very exciting, partly because I’m quite chuffed and so on but largely because it consists not just of a letter but of £100. Yay! This is a pleasing step up from QPCS’s book tokens (bless ’em) and could buy over 20 glasses of mango beer, which is truly a happy happy thought.
Ah, blogging neglect. This always happens during the holiday; essay deadlines are the classic procrastinational motivator for writing. (‘Procrastinational’ is not a word as such – not according to either spellcheck or the dictionary – but I’m striking out alone anyway. Just you try and stop me.) But it’s most definitely time to blog now, before I end up with a post so long it needs its own index. (‘Torchwood, see under ’emotional flattening’)
Torchwood: Children of Earth (warning: spoilers) was a brilliant piece of television, right down to the episode-a-night format, which kept up the momentum and gave the whole thing the sense of being a real dramatic ‘event’. After the final episode, Katie, dad and I sat there a little drained – there were some pretty grim moments, with none of the underlying optimism of Doctor Who, and wonderfully provoking ethical questions which gave rise to much conversation afterwards. For me, [again, spoiler alert] the scene of John Frobisher shooting his family – and himself – was one of my favourite scenes from anything in a while. Masterfully done.
It’s probably a good thing I watched some rather more light-hearted things too this week, including The Hangover with Tash on Tuesday and Brüno with Joshua, Niamh, Robert and Abbi on Saturday. Both prove that you really don’t have to do anything particularly clever to make me laugh – I really do enjoy what is ultimately just a burst of silliness Brüno, in particular, suffers from being dressed-up as something satirical; it’s not, really, although seeing just how physically pained some people are by displays of homosexuality is always interesting when it’s just not something I can ever feel. In a ranking of innocuous things, men kissing would come somewhere between ‘flight of butterflies’ and ‘the comedy of Jasper Carrott’. (Sorry, Jasper: you do seem lovely. Just not very edgy.)
Still, people are weird, and there was no better demonstration of this than on Tuesday when Sanna and I visited St Paul’s. (I bet you’re expecting something about watching people go through the Mass now, but instead I’m going to wrong-foot everybody who doesn’t also read Sanna’s blog, i.e. precisely no-one.) After we had admired what was, to be honest, about 20% God and 80% British Empire, we left to find lunch and then found ourselves captivated by the exterior glass lifts of Lloyds TSB. I’m not sure what made them so addictive to watch, but they were, and we ended up staying for ages until someone finally smiled at us and waved back. You will be shocked to learn, incidentally, that men outnumbered women in said lifts by a considerable margin. Men also vastly outnumbered women on the ‘parents vs. students’ debating event at the Queen’s Park fair on Saturday – something Sarah Teather correctly picked up on – although I am proud to say that my mum did take part and subsequently won a fancy debating trophy which now adorns our living room. Hurrah!
Colourful picnic
Yesterday we held a picnic in Gladstone Park to celebrate Saoirse’s 16th, which was pleasingly full of chocolate and other sugary things! I have to say, it is really wonderful to be doing so many things together – and I hope we’re all still around to picnic in the years to come 
(Oh, and I picked my final two papers for next year: Political Thought from c.1700 to c. 1890 and The History of the Indian Subcontinent from the Late Eighteenth Century to the Present Day. Rock on…)
Hmm… how to add value when Abbi has already faithfully blogged the holiday and my photos are adorning Facebook? Why, turn to technology of course
Newquay!
Yes, I had a totally fantastic time and can only hope to blog a few memorable moments. Like the train which failed to get up the hill, the cold-induced delirium of night-time swimming, drinking games with the gorgeously feminine voices which followed, giant scary sea creatures at the aquarium, the wonders of Wordplay, the views of the sea and everyone’s amazing company. Onward to next year!
Linda Moffitt on Colombia: “Such a sweet memory of the four of you meeting up in Colombia!” Dec 2, 07:42
