399. Piddington and the Natural Emergence of Localism

Posted on 15/09/2026 by Barry

The Government proposes to accommodate as many as 1,256 male asylum seekers at a former military site near Piddington in Oxfordshire. The village itself has a population of only about 350. The proposed centre would therefore be several times larger than the existing community.

Residents say that they have not been adequately consulted. They are concerned about safety, transport, policing, medical services, sewage and the character of their village. Their campaign has included a symbolic referendum on leaving the United Kingdom.

The central issue is not whether every fear expressed by every resident is justified. Nor should people seeking asylum be treated automatically as criminals or enemies. Most are individuals caught within a system which they did not create.

The deeper issue is one of scale, consent and authority.

A national government has decided that a very small locality should absorb the consequences of national asylum policy. Central government determines the policy, selects the site and controls the money. The locality is then expected to cope with many of the practical and social consequences.

Piddington’s response is therefore about more than immigration. It is also a reaction to remote government and the limited influence which local people have over decisions that directly affect their lives.

Immigration as the trigger

Immigration and asylum policy have become the immediate triggers because their consequences are experienced in particular places.

National politicians discuss annual totals, legal obligations, processing capacity and the cost of hotel accommodation. Residents experience the policy differently. They consider its possible effects upon roads, medical services, policing, public transport, water and sewage. They ask whether the scale of the proposal is compatible with the capacity of their locality.

A national total can appear manageable when viewed from Whitehall. The same policy can become overwhelming when a large part of it is concentrated in one small place.

The proposed Piddington centre would not gradually introduce a few families into an established community. It would place a large, predominantly male and temporary population beside a village containing only a fraction of that number.

Whatever one’s opinion of immigration, it is reasonable to ask whether such a concentration is socially and practically sustainable. It is also reasonable to ask whether concentrating so many asylum seekers in one isolated place is in their own interests.

The Government may regard the former military site principally as an available piece of property. Local residents regard it as part of the place in which they live. That difference helps to explain the conflict.

From residents to a locality

Localism often begins when people discover that they share a common interest.

Until an outside decision substantially affects their surroundings, residents may have little reason to organise. They live in the same place, but they do not necessarily act together.

A crisis can change this. Meetings are held. Information is exchanged. Local knowledge is collected. Responsibilities are accepted. People who seldom spoke to one another begin working together.

A collection of individual households starts behaving like a locality.

That appears to be happening at Piddington. Residents are not merely complaining as individuals. They are asserting that their community has an identity, a voice and a legitimate right to influence decisions affecting its future.

The symbolic independence referendum will have no constitutional effect. Its importance lies in the message it conveys. If national government will not listen adequately to the locality, the locality must find democratic ways of making itself heard.

This is one of the ways in which localism emerges. It is seldom introduced according to a government timetable. It develops from below when national institutions appear unable or unwilling to respond to particular local circumstances.

Part of the evolution of the UK economy

Piddington should also be considered within the wider evolution of the UK economy.

The industrial economy encouraged centralisation. Abundant energy, expanding tax revenues and economic growth enabled governments to construct large national systems. Decisions about housing, transport, health, energy and population could be made centrally because the State appeared to possess the resources needed to manage their consequences.

That period is ending.

Energy, materials, public services and government finance are becoming less affordable. The gap between national promises and local capacity is consequently growing.

Central government may announce a policy, but it cannot easily provide another doctor’s surgery, additional police officers, more buses, improved drainage or the social relationships needed to make the policy work. These cannot be created merely by issuing instructions from Whitehall.

A shrinking economy makes scale increasingly important. A policy that might have been absorbed during decades of expanding services becomes much more disruptive when existing services are already stretched.

Immigration is exposing this change, but it did not create the underlying weakness. It reveals the declining ability of the centralised State to match national decisions with local resources.

The same pattern is likely to emerge in other fields. Localities will increasingly organise around food, care, housing, water, energy, transport and employment. They will do so because national systems are becoming too expensive, too complicated and too remote to meet every local need.

This does not require a political revolution. It is an economic and social evolution. Responsibilities will move towards the locality because that is where many essential needs must ultimately be met.

Local consent must carry weight

Localism does not mean that every locality can ignore the interests of the rest of the country. Britain will continue to require national functions, including defence, border administration, taxation, justice, telecommunications and specialist medical services.

It does mean that national policy must recognise the physical and social capacity of individual places.

A genuinely localist asylum policy would ask several questions before selecting a site:

What population can the locality reasonably accommodate?
What services and infrastructure already exist?
Who will pay for the additional demands?
Can newcomers be accommodated on a human scale?
Have local residents been involved before the decision is made?
How will the interests of both residents and asylum seekers be protected?
What responsibilities and resources will remain within the locality?

Large concentrations imposed with little local involvement are the opposite of localism. Smaller-scale accommodation, supported by adequate resources and shaped through local consultation, would have a better chance of succeeding for residents and newcomers alike.

No locality can possess an absolute right of refusal over every national responsibility. Equally, central government should not possess an unlimited right to impose radical change upon a small community simply because a convenient site is available.

There must be balance, proportionality and genuine consultation.

A lesson from Piddington

Piddington is not yet an example of a fully developed localist economy. Its campaign is primarily defensive. Nevertheless, defensive action can awaken a sense of local responsibility.

The relationships and practical experience created by the campaign may later help residents work together on transport, medical provision, food supplies, energy or care. They may recognise that the difficulties revealed by asylum policy also affect many other centrally managed services.

The importance of Piddington is therefore not confined to the immigration debate. It demonstrates how a national policy can stimulate the recovery of local identity and collective action.

Localism will not necessarily arrive because Westminster decides to introduce it. It is more likely to emerge because communities find it necessary to safeguard their capacity, resources and social cohesion.

Immigration and asylum policy may be the triggers at Piddington. The underlying cause is the growing tension between centralised decision-making and local circumstances.

As the UK economy contracts and the resources available to government diminish, similar disagreements are likely to arise elsewhere. Communities will increasingly question whether decisions made at national level take sufficient account of local capacity.

Piddington may therefore be a small early sign of a much larger evolution. It points towards the gradual recovery of local initiative as an increasingly overstretched central State finds it more difficult to manage every consequence of its policies.

This is not the rejection of national government. It is the development of a new balance. National government will retain the functions that only it can perform, while localities assume greater responsibility for the practical conditions of everyday life.

That is how localism is most likely to emerge: not through revolution, but through necessity.

384. Islands of Prosperity in a Shrinking Economy

Posted on 02/09/2026 by Barry

A shrinking national economy does not mean that every place will become poorer at the same rate. Nor does it mean that prosperity will disappear everywhere. It may become more local, more varied and less visible in national statistics.

The United Kingdom could evolve into a patchwork of economic postcodes. Some localities would continue to contract. Others would discover new forms of prosperity, not measurable in industrial terms, based on their land, skills, water, buildings or position.

This would not be growth as understood from the top down. It would not necessarily produce rising GDP, expanding financial markets or growing consumer spending. It would be prosperity measured through sufficiency, security and the quality of everyday life. Maybe not called “prosperity”.

The end of the uniform national economy

The industrial economy encouraged places to become specialised. One area made steel. Another mined coal. A third manufactured cars. Food, energy, materials and manufactured goods were transported across the country.

Cheap energy made this possible. Rising energy and infrastructure costs will gradually weaken it.

As the national economy shrinks, places will become more dependent on what can be produced, repaired and maintained nearby. Their fortunes will increasingly diverge.

One locality might possess fertile soil, reliable water, orchards, market gardens and food-processing workshops. Another might have poor soil, few practical skills and a population dependent on distant employers. Their experiences of economic shrinkage would be very different.

The national economy might be shrinking while particular economic postcodes remain busy, productive and reasonably prosperous.

Food-prosperous localities

Imagine a locality with good agricultural land, several villages and a small market town. It has dairy farms, orchards, vegetable growers, a flour mill, a bakery, a slaughterhouse and workshops able to repair agricultural equipment.

As national supply chains weaken, this locality becomes increasingly valuable.

Its prosperity would not necessarily appear as economic growth. Local food might replace food previously transported from hundreds or thousands of miles away. A local workshop might repair machinery that would once have been replaced. Families might preserve fruit, share tools and grow vegetables.

These activities could reduce measured spending. Nevertheless, people would have food, useful employment and a functioning community.

The locality would be prosperous in the things that mattered, even though its contribution to the quantified industrial economy might appear small.

Land that had been used for horse paddocks, lawns or speculative development might return to food production. Empty shops might become bakeries, stores, workshops and food-processing premises. Young people could find work in horticulture, forestry, food preservation, building maintenance and care.

This would be an economy of provision rather than consumption.

Energy-prosperous localities

Other localities might prosper because of energy.

A wooded district could develop a wood economy based on coppicing, timber, charcoal, firewood and woodland crafts. An upland locality might use small hydroelectric schemes. A coastal settlement could combine fishing, wind power and boat repair. A farming area might produce modest amounts of biogas from agricultural waste.

These places would not become entirely self-sufficient. They would still need national electricity networks, telecommunications, medicines and specialist machinery. But local energy would provide a degree of protection against rising national costs and unreliable supply.

Energy prosperity would attract activities that needed dependable power. Small food processors, cold stores, sawmills and repair workshops might gather around such places.

The economic map would begin to change. People might move towards localities with food, energy and useful work rather than towards the places offering the highest salaries.

The return of economic migration

This would not be entirely new.

When work disappeared from one industry, workers historically moved to another. Slate quarry workers from the Corris area, for example, migrated to the South Wales coalfield. Their skills, strength and experience of dangerous manual work could be used in a different industry.

Similar movements could occur in a shrinking economy.

A town dependent upon warehouses, commuting, tourism or discretionary retail might lose employment. Some of its working population could move towards localities where food, forestry, maintenance and essential production were expanding.

The movement might be gradual. A family could retain its original home while one member worked seasonally elsewhere. Young people might move first. Empty houses in productive rural towns could be occupied by workers, while housing in less viable commuter settlements declined in value.

Not every locality would survive in its present form. Some places exist because of economic arrangements that may no longer be affordable. Their decline could be unavoidable.

Government could not prevent all such change. Attempting to preserve every existing pattern of settlement and employment would consume resources needed elsewhere.

How government could enable natural evolution

Government would not create these new local economies. They would emerge because people responded to necessity and opportunity.

Government’s most useful role would be to stop obstructing them.

Planning rules could allow farm buildings, empty shops and redundant public buildings to become workshops, food stores and small processing premises. It could become easier to build modest homes for people working locally.

Regulations designed for large industrial businesses could be simplified for small producers. A village bakery, cheesemaker or slaughterhouse should not face the same administrative burden as a national corporation.

Public purchasing could favour nearby production where practical. Schools, hospitals, care homes and military establishments could buy more food from their surrounding localities.

The tax system could recognise very small businesses, cooperatives, household production and exchanges partly conducted through goods or services. Not every useful transaction needs to be forced into the structure of a conventional company.

Government could also preserve the national foundations upon which localism depends. These include telecommunications, the electricity grid, railways, defence, specialist hospitals, a functioning currency and the rule of law.

Its task would be to maintain the framework. The detailed economy would be created from below.

Unequal but different

These economic postcodes would not all be prosperous in the same way.

One might have abundant food but little cash. Another might possess hydroelectric power and engineering workshops. A third might specialise in timber, textiles or care. A market town could prosper as the centre where several surrounding localities exchanged their surpluses.

There would also be struggling areas. Large cities might find it difficult to secure affordable food, water and energy. Former commuter settlements could lose their economic purpose. Coastal resorts dependent on discretionary spending might contract sharply.

Government would face pressure to redistribute resources from successful localities to unsuccessful ones. Some redistribution would remain necessary. But excessive extraction could weaken the very places producing the essentials upon which everyone depended.

The objective could no longer be to make every area economically identical. It would be to help each locality discover what it could sustain.

Prosperity without growth

This future would confuse conventional economists.

A locality might produce more food, employ more people and become more resilient while showing little monetary growth. Households might consume fewer imported goods but enjoy better food and stronger communities. Repair, reuse and shared ownership might reduce retail sales. Lower incomes might coexist with greater security.

National GDP could continue to fall.

Yet within that shrinking total, some economic postcodes could become better places in which to live. They would possess the essentials of life. They would offer useful work. Their prosperity would come from producing what people needed rather than encouraging them to consume what they did not.

No government could design this pattern in advance. It would be too complicated, too local and too dependent upon human initiative.

It would evolve naturally.

Government’s challenge would be to recognise what was happening, protect the essential national framework and give localities enough freedom to find their own future.

338. Maurice Ash of Dartington – A Quiet Architect of Localism

Posted on 29/06/2026 by Barry

Maurice Ash was one of those twentieth century thinkers whose influence is easier to trace in institutions and practices than in public fame. His work at Dartington placed him at the centre of an experiment that quietly challenged the assumptions of centralised planning, industrial scale thinking, and cultural uniformity.

At Dartington Hall and through the work of Dartington Hall Trust, Ash helped shape an environment where education, agriculture, arts, and social organisation were treated not as separate silos but as parts of a living local system. This was not localism as slogan, but localism as practice.

Ash arrived at Dartington in the post war period when Britain was increasingly committed to centralised solutions. Planning, welfare, housing, and education were being standardised through national systems. Against this backdrop, Dartington became an unusual counter current. It explored what happens when a locality is allowed to evolve its own interlocking systems of work, learning, culture, and land use.

His relevance to localism lies in this insistence that scale matters. Ash did not reject organisation or planning. Instead, he questioned whether effective human systems could be designed from a distance without losing vitality. At Dartington, the emphasis was on human scale relationships, on learning rooted in place, and on economic activity that supported rather than extracted from its setting.

One of his key contributions was to treat rural life not as a residual category of the modern economy but as a potential centre of innovation. Agriculture at Dartington was linked with education and experimentation. The arts were not decorative but part of how a community understands itself. This integrated approach anticipated many of the arguments now associated with localism, particularly the idea that resilience grows from diversity within a locality rather than dependence on distant systems.

Ash also recognised the limitations of large scale institutional thinking. He was working at a time when the dominant belief was that bigger systems were necessarily more efficient and more just. Dartington quietly tested the opposite proposition, that beyond a certain scale, complexity becomes fragility, and that human wellbeing is often strengthened by smaller, interconnected units of organisation.

Seen from the perspective of contemporary localism, Ash’s work feels increasingly relevant. The pressures now facing centralised systems, whether in energy, housing, food, or education, have revived interest in locally grounded models. Dartington stands as an early attempt to demonstrate that such models are not nostalgic retreats but viable frameworks for organising life.

The lesson of Maurice Ash is not that central systems should disappear, but that they should recognise their limits. His legacy at Dartington suggests that when decision making, culture, and production are rooted in place, the result is not fragmentation but coherence at a human scale.

332. The Life of John Papworth – A Localist Before His Time

Posted on 24/06/2026 by Barry

Many of the ideas now associated with localism were championed for decades by John Papworth. Although never a household name, he spent much of his long life arguing that human beings flourish best in communities small enough for people to know one another and to take responsibility for their own affairs.

His own life was remarkable. Born in London in 1921 and brought up in an orphanage, he experienced poverty, loneliness and hardship from an early age. He left school young, worked in a variety of jobs, served in the Royal Air Force during the Second World War, and later studied under the influence of the great social thinker R. H. Tawney. It was Tawney’s suspicion of excessive centralisation that helped shape Papworth’s outlook for the rest of his life.

Like many people of his generation, Papworth experimented with different political ideas. He spent time in both the Communist and Labour parties before becoming disillusioned with large institutions and bureaucracies. He increasingly concluded that the central problem of modern society was that decisions affecting ordinary people were being made by distant organisations which neither understood nor cared about local circumstances.

This led him towards a philosophy which today would be recognised as localism. He believed that power should be dispersed rather than concentrated. Villages, towns and neighbourhoods should have far greater control over their own futures. Local economies should be encouraged. Citizens should participate directly in civic life rather than merely vote every few years and leave everything to professional politicians.

Papworth was not simply a theorist. He edited journals, organised campaigns, advised political leaders, stood for Parliament and served as a parish councillor. He spent time in Zambia advising President Kenneth Kaunda during the country’s early years of independence. Throughout these varied roles he retained a consistent belief that healthy societies grow from the bottom up rather than from the top down.

His views have considerable relevance to contemporary localism. Many of the problems discussed today – the decline of local high streets, the concentration of economic power, dependence upon distant supply chains, the remoteness of government, and the weakening of community life – were concerns he identified many decades ago.

Papworth argued that larger organisations are not automatically more efficient or more humane. As institutions grow, they tend to become increasingly detached from the people they are supposed to serve. Decisions become standardised, local knowledge is lost, and citizens become passive recipients rather than active participants.

These arguments resonate strongly with the localist response to the shrinking economy. As energy becomes more expensive, public finances come under pressure, and national systems struggle to maintain previous levels of service, there is renewed interest in local food production, local enterprise, local care systems and stronger community networks. Papworth would probably have regarded these developments not as a retreat but as a rediscovery of human-scale living.

Perhaps the most important lesson from his life is that localism is not merely an economic programme or a political reform. For Papworth it was fundamentally about restoring human relationships. He believed that people are happiest and most responsible when they belong to communities where their actions matter and where they can directly influence the decisions affecting their daily lives.

In that sense, John Papworth was not simply an advocate of local government. He was an advocate of a society built upon human scale. As the limitations of large centralised systems become increasingly apparent, his ideas appear more relevant today than when he first advanced them over half a century ago.

319. Village Life in 1600 Revisited – What We Have Learned Since Then. Excluding Industrial Knowledge

Posted on 12/06/2026 by Barry

If we look back at English village life around 1600, it is easy to see it as distant and simple. Yet if we set aside the industrial story that followed, and instead add what we have learned about health, ecology, governance, and human wellbeing since then, a different picture emerges. It is not a return to the past, but an understanding of what village life contained that later systems overlooked or displaced.

A village in 1600 was not designed, it evolved. It functioned as a local system tied closely to soil, water, animals, and seasons. People lived within limits that were immediately visible. The boundaries of the locality were not administrative, they were physical and practical.

What we now understand better is that such systems had strong ecological logic:

Nutrients were largely recycled locally through animals, composting, and human labour
Food systems were seasonal and therefore naturally varied
Energy use was low, local, and mostly biological rather than mechanical
Waste rarely travelled far from its source

Modern ecological thinking confirms something important here. These systems were not efficient in a modern economic sense, but they were often resilient in the sense that they could absorb shocks without total collapse.

Health and the hidden balance of diet and movement

We now know far more about nutrition, hygiene, and disease transmission than people in 1600 could possibly have known. Yet when we apply this knowledge retrospectively, we see an interesting pattern.

Village diets were:

High in fibre from grains and vegetables
Low in processed sugar and refined fats
Dependent on seasonal variation rather than constant supply

Physical activity was:

Continuous and necessary
Spread across all ages and genders
Integrated into daily life rather than separated into exercise

We now understand that many chronic conditions associated with modern life are strongly linked to sedentary behaviour and processed diets. This does not make 1600 healthier in all respects, infectious disease and infant mortality were severe, but it does suggest that the structure of daily life had some inherent protective qualities that were later lost.

Local governance before abstraction

The 1600 village was governed through layered local systems: manor custom, parish responsibility, informal agreement, and church oversight. While not democratic in the modern sense, it was deeply local in practice.

What we have learned since is that governance works most effectively when:

Decision-making is close to the consequences
Responsibility and resource are aligned at the same scale
Rules evolve from lived experience rather than abstract design

Modern systems often separate decision from consequence. In contrast, village governance concentrated both in the same place. This created inequality and limitation, but it also created accountability at a human scale.

Knowledge without external dependency

One of the most important differences between then and now is not technology, but dependence on external systems of knowledge.

In 1600:

Skills were transmitted directly through apprenticeship and family life
Knowledge was embedded in practice rather than written abstraction
Repair, making, and maintenance were normal daily functions

What we have learned since is that systems become fragile when knowledge is centralised and separated from use. Modern research in resilience shows that distributed knowledge systems, where many people hold partial but usable skills, are often more stable under disruption.

The village was such a system by necessity.

Time, season, and human scale

Modern life often treats time as continuous and uniform. In 1600, life was strongly seasonal and cyclical. Work followed daylight, weather, and agricultural need.

We now understand that human wellbeing is strongly influenced by:

Exposure to natural light cycles
Variation in activity rather than constant intensity
Periods of rest built into the year rather than scheduled around productivity

The village calendar embedded these patterns naturally. The modern world often removes them and then tries to reintroduce them artificially.

What was missing then, and what we now know must be added back carefully

It would be misleading to idealise 1600 village life. There were serious limitations:

High infant mortality
Limited medical understanding
Social hierarchy and constraint
Vulnerability to harvest failure and disease

What we have learned since must therefore be added carefully:

Clean water systems and sanitation
Medical knowledge and basic public health
Better structural housing safety
Shared emergency response capacity

These are genuine gains that should not be discarded.

A combined understanding for localism

If we remove the industrial detour from the story, what remains is not nostalgia, but a design question.

A localist interpretation of village life suggests:

Small-scale systems can be ecologically coherent
Work, knowledge, and responsibility function best when locally connected
Human wellbeing is strongly tied to seasonal rhythm and physical engagement
Resilience depends on distributed capability rather than central dependency

But modern knowledge also adds non-negotiable improvements:

Health protection must be formalised
Water, sanitation, and shelter standards must be higher
Vulnerable people require structured support systems

The task is not to recreate 1600, but to recognise that it contained a coherent local logic that modern systems often fragment. Localism, in this sense, is not a step backwards, but a re-alignment of scale, knowledge, and responsibility with human and ecological reality.

317. Raymond Williams and the Knowable Community

Posted on 10/06/2026 by Barry

Raymond Williams is not usually listed among the great advocates of localism. His name is more often associated with cultural studies, literary criticism and socialism. Yet many of his ideas point directly towards a localist understanding of how society works and how it might be renewed.

Born in the small village of Pandy, near Abergavenny, in 1921, Williams never forgot the community in which he was raised. His father was a railway signalman and Williams grew up in a place where people knew one another, shared experiences and understood their interdependence. Although he later became a professor at Cambridge University, the values of his childhood remained central to his thinking.

Perhaps his most important contribution to localist thought was his idea of the “knowable community”. He argued that communities are strongest when they are small enough for people to understand each other’s circumstances, strengths and needs. In such communities, responsibility is personal rather than bureaucratic. Decisions are informed by local knowledge rather than distant assumptions.

This idea appears most clearly in his novel Border Country. The story follows a man who leaves his Welsh border village to become an academic in England. Returning home, he discovers that the life of the community he left behind possesses forms of wisdom and understanding which cannot easily be measured or recognised by central institutions. The rhythms of work, neighbourliness and shared memory create a richness of life which large organisations frequently overlook.

For localists, this insight is of profound importance. National governments and large corporations often treat people as statistics, consumers or administrative cases. Policies are devised at a distance and imposed uniformly across places with very different histories and needs. Williams reminds us that people are not abstractions. They belong to particular places and relationships.

In The Country and the City, Williams examined the changing relationship between rural and urban life. He showed how economic power increasingly shifted towards large centres of administration and commerce, while rural communities were often viewed merely as resources to be exploited. Yet he rejected sentimental nostalgia. He did not argue that the past had been perfect. Instead, he sought ways in which the strengths of local communities could be preserved and renewed within a changing society.

His unfinished work, People of the Black Mountains, perhaps comes closest to a localist history. Set in the landscape around his native district, it traces the lives of ordinary people over thousands of years. Rather than focusing on kings, governments and military leaders, Williams looked at the people who worked the land, built communities and passed on practical knowledge from generation to generation. History, he suggested, is made from below as much as from above.

There are differences between Williams and some advocates of localism. He remained committed to the idea that national institutions have an important role in securing fairness and opportunity. He did not seek complete local independence. Nevertheless, he consistently argued that large institutions should support communities rather than dominate them.

At a time when many people feel powerless in the face of distant political and economic forces, Raymond Williams offers an alternative way of seeing society. Strong communities are built through shared experience, mutual responsibility and local knowledge. They cannot simply be created by legislation or managed through bureaucracy.

For those concerned with localism, Williams provides an important reminder that the health of a society depends not only upon the efficiency of its institutions but upon the vitality of its knowable communities. The future may depend less upon building ever larger systems and more upon recovering the human scale at which people can genuinely participate in shaping their own lives.

303. Pelago – A Modern Example of Localism in Action

Posted on 02/06/2026 by Barry

The small Tuscan town of Pelago may be one of the most interesting modern examples of localism in Europe.

While many rural towns across Italy have been losing population as young people move to larger cities, Pelago has been doing the opposite. Its population has grown steadily and recently exceeded 8,000 residents. Young families are moving there from nearby Florence in search of affordable housing, a stronger sense of community and a better quality of life.

The key lesson for localists is that Pelago’s success has not come from attracting large corporations or building vast industrial estates. Instead, the local authority has concentrated on the things that matter most to families. Investment has been directed towards schools, nurseries, sports facilities and public spaces. The mayor has described this as putting families at the centre of community life.

Pelago also retains many characteristics that localists value. It is made up not only of the main town but also a network of smaller villages and hamlets. The surrounding countryside supports vineyards, olive groves, forestry and other traditional land-based activities. The area has a long history of rural self-reliance and close links between people and landscape.

An interesting feature is that Pelago is close enough to Florence for some residents to commute, yet far enough away to maintain its own identity and character. Around 1,000 residents travel to Florence for work, but they choose to live in Pelago because housing is much cheaper and community life is stronger.

From a localist perspective, Pelago demonstrates that prosperity does not necessarily depend on urban growth. People are often attracted by affordable homes, local schools, green spaces, safety and a sense of belonging. These are qualities that cannot easily be measured by GDP but are often more important in everyday life.

As the United Kingdom gradually adapts to the realities of a shrinking economy, Pelago offers an important lesson. The future may not belong solely to ever-larger cities. Instead, it may lie with smaller communities that provide the essentials of life close to home, strengthen local relationships and create places where families can flourish.

Pelago is not a complete localist economy, but it does show how a community can thrive by putting local people, local services and local quality of life ahead of endless economic expansion. In that sense, it may offer a glimpse of what a localist future could look like.

297. Rethinking Birmingham and the Future of Large UK Cities: Localism, Constraint, and an Uncertain Urban Future

Posted on 28/05/2026 by Barry

In my earlier piece, Birmingham was described as a city likely to reorganise itself under economic pressure: transport corridors becoming more important, housing concentrating around nodes, discretionary markets contracting, and localism gradually becoming more significant. That remains a plausible line of thought.

But there is a deeper question that now needs to be addressed more directly:

Are we still assuming that large metropolitan systems like Birmingham will simply “shrink and adapt”, when in fact they may become structurally difficult to sustain at anything like their present scale?

This is where the issue becomes more uncertain.

1. The core assumption under pressure: that cities simply “reorganise”

Much of the earlier analysis assumes that:

Cities adjust to lower surplus
transport systems contract but remain broadly intact
Rail and tram corridors continue in some form
settlement becomes more localised within existing urban structures

However, this still quietly assumes that:

The metropolitan system remains fundamentally viable
Enough surplus exists to maintain large-scale coordination
Transport and services can be selectively reduced rather than fundamentally transformed

That assumption may be too optimistic if energy, finance, and productivity constraints tighten significantly.

2. Why large cities may be harder to sustain than expected

Modern metropolitan areas are not simply large settlements. They are high-maintenance systems.

They depend upon continuous flows of:

energy (electricity, transport fuels, heating)
food from long distances
complex logistics networks
large-scale financial transfers
centralised administrative systems
constant infrastructure repair and renewal

Even partial weakening of these flows creates disproportionate stress because the system is tightly interdependent.

This leads to a critical point:

Large cities do not scale down easily; they tend to become fragile when their surplus input falls below a threshold.

3. The subsidy problem and hidden dependency

Both rail and tram systems, along with many urban services, are already heavily subsidised.

This implies that:

The current metropolitan functioning is not fully self-supporting
Large-scale urban life already depends on continuous external support

If:

National fiscal capacity tightens
Local authority budgets weaken
Energy costs rise
Discretionary tax base shrinks

Then, maintaining even “reduced versions” of current systems may become difficult.

This raises the possibility that:

Some metropolitan functions may not gradually contract, but instead become selectively unaffordable.

4. Localism does not necessarily support large cities

A key point often missed is that localism and large metropolitan systems may not reinforce each other.

Localism tends to favour:

shorter supply chains
smaller settlement units
local food systems
reduced travel distances
distributed economic activity

Large cities depend on:

long supply chains
high mobility
centralised employment
large infrastructure networks

So while localism may strengthen, it does not automatically stabilise Birmingham as a large integrated system. Instead, it may:

Weaken metropolitan dependency structures
Reduce commuting fields
Encourage dispersion of activity into smaller centres

This creates tension rather than simple adaptation.

5. Energy constraint and the scale question

The most fundamental uncertainty is energy.

Whether through:

Reduced fossil fuel availability
higher extraction costs
climate constraints
geopolitical instability
or partial transition to lower-density renewables

The key issue is not just “what energy exists”, but:

How much surplus energy exists after the cost of producing and maintaining the energy system itself?

Large cities are surplus-dependent structures. If surplus declines, the system does not just slow down; it changes what size of organisation is viable.

Historically:

Pre-industrial societies supported only small cities and towns
Industrial fossil energy allowed very large metropolitan systems

If that surplus narrows again, the question becomes whether:

Current metropolitan sizes remain structurally supportable at all

6. Why does Birmingham become a genuine puzzle

Birmingham sits exactly at the intersection of these pressures:

large inherited infrastructure
heavy service obligations
extensive transport systems
dependence on regional and national flows
Financial stress already visible in governance

It is therefore neither:

a small town that can easily self-organise locally
nor
a globally dominant city with unlimited surplus capacity

It is an intermediate-scale system whose long-term equilibrium is unclear.

That is what makes it a puzzle:

It is large enough to be structurally complex, but potentially not wealthy enough to sustain that complexity indefinitely under constraint.

7. What remains uncertain

There are at least three possible long-term directions:

A. Managed contraction

Cities shrink but remain coherent
core services survive
transport reduces but continues in simplified form

B. Fragmentation into local systems

Metropolitan cohesion weakens
Neighbourhood-level systems strengthen
The city becomes a patchwork of semi-independent localities

C. Selective survival of cores

central zones remain functional
peripheral areas lose integration
transport and services concentrate heavily in limited corridors

At present, it is not clear which dominates, or whether different UK cities follow different paths.

8. Final reflection

Localism may still emerge in some form regardless of the outcome. But the earlier assumption that large cities like Birmingham will simply “adapt into localised corridor systems” may be too smooth.

A more realistic framing may be:

The future of large UK cities is not a simple transition, but an unresolved structural question shaped by energy limits, fiscal capacity, and the scale at which complex urban systems remain affordable.

In that sense, Birmingham is not just an example of change.

It is a test case for something still not fully understood:

How large a city can be when the surplus that created it is no longer growing, and may be shrinking instead.

296. Birmingham: The Reorganisation of the City in a Shrinking Economy

Posted on 26/05/2026 by Barry

Birmingham was built as one of Britain’s great expansion cities. Its industry, transport systems, shopping districts, office centres, and suburbs were all shaped by an economy based upon increasing energy use, increasing movement, and continuous growth. Roads expanded, railways were reorganised around commuter demand, retail concentrated into large centres, and employment became increasingly specialised and centralised.

Today, Birmingham Council is, in effect, financially bankrupt. The city council has faced a severe financial crisis, service reductions, and an inability to sustain previous levels of expenditure. This is usually discussed as an isolated management or political problem, but it may also be a sign of something much larger: the gradual weakening of the growth economy upon which large modern cities depend.

A city such as Birmingham requires constant economic expansion to maintain:

extensive public services
large transport systems
complex administration
welfare support structures
continual infrastructure maintenance

When growth weakens, these systems become increasingly difficult to finance. The issue is not simply debt, but the inability of the surrounding economy to generate enough surplus to support the scale of the system that has evolved.

In this sense, Birmingham’s financial problems may not be an exception. They may be an early indication of structural economic change throughout the UK.

Economic shrinkage and the decline of discretionary activity

As the economy begins to shrink rather than grow, the city does not suddenly collapse. Instead, it gradually reorganises itself around different priorities. The important change is not simply less activity, but a change in the type of activity that can be sustained.

The first effects are in discretionary markets. Birmingham contains large sectors dependent upon discretionary spending:

retail shopping
hospitality
entertainment
leisure travel
conferences and events
non-essential services

These activities depend upon surplus income and constant circulation of money. When energy costs rise and real incomes weaken, discretionary spending contracts first. This affects employment quickly because many service-sector jobs depend upon high customer turnover and dense city-centre activity.

As these sectors weaken, employment becomes more unstable. Some work disappears entirely, while other work becomes part-time, informal, temporary, or localised. Unemployment, therefore, becomes less cyclical and more structural. The city is no longer reorganising around growth, but around constraint.

At the same time, public services become harder to maintain at previous scales. Birmingham depends heavily upon tax flows generated by a large urban economy. If economic activity weakens, pressure increases on transport subsidies, social services, housing support, and infrastructure maintenance. This creates a feedback process in which both public and private systems experience contraction simultaneously.

The result is not a uniformly declining city, but an uneven one. Some districts retain strong economic activity while others lose investment, transport frequency, or local services. Birmingham is gradually becoming less of a single, integrated labour market and more of a patchwork of differing local conditions.

The changing role of transport

Transport is central to this transition because Birmingham’s modern structure depends upon high mobility.

The city currently operates through:

extensive commuter rail
railway and tram systems
large bus networks
motorway access
continuous movement into and out of the centre

This structure assumes that large numbers of people travel considerable distances every day for work, shopping, and services.

In a shrinking economy, this assumption weakens.

Rail and Trams are likely to remain the strongest element of the system because they are efficient where fixed corridors already exist. Main lines and major commuter routes continue, but their purpose changes. Instead of supporting endless expansion, they increasingly become essential movement corridors.

Trams and light rail become especially important because they support concentrated movement patterns while using less energy. Birmingham’s tram system, therefore, becomes more than urban transport infrastructure. It begins to shape where settlement and activity concentrate.

Buses become more difficult to sustain at current levels because they depend heavily upon fuel costs, labour availability, and subsidies. Peripheral routes become thinner and some services reduce in frequency. The result is a more hierarchical system:

strong rail and tram corridors
weaker peripheral movement
reduced discretionary travel

Transport no longer functions primarily to support expansion. It becomes the framework through which a more localised city continues to function.

Housing nodes and corridor settlement

As movement becomes more expensive and less flexible, housing patterns will also change.

Instead of continual outward suburban spread, settlement begins to concentrate around reliable transport corridors, especially tram and rail stops. Along these routes, new housing nodes emerge.

A housing node is not a large new town. It is a concentrated cluster of activity built around a station or tram stop. Typically it contains:

medium-density housing
local food retail
health and care services
small repair and craft businesses
walkable access to transport

The tram stop or station becomes the centre of daily life.

This is a major change from the late twentieth-century development pattern where housing estates spread outward and depended almost entirely upon private car movement. In a lower-energy economy, transport corridors become fixed anchors for settlement.

The city, therefore, begins to reorganise itself into linked corridor systems rather than a single dominant centre with vast commuter catchments.

Economic and social restructuring inside the city

As discretionary employment contracts, Birmingham will also experience changes in its social geography.

Some districts adapt better than others depending upon:

transport access
local economic resilience
housing conditions
community networks
proximity to functioning corridors

Neighbourhoods with strong local connections and practical services will stabilise even while city-wide growth weakens. Areas dependent entirely upon large-scale retail or office employment may struggle more severely.

This can increase unevenness between districts. The city becomes more differentiated, with some areas functioning as active local nodes while others lose economic density.

However, localism does not necessarily mean fragmentation. Under pressure, neighbourhood-level cooperation can become more important:

local food systems
repair economies
informal exchange
care networks
small-scale enterprise

The city therefore changes from a highly centralised economic machine into a more distributed network of local economies connected by transport corridors.

Birmingham as a corridor city

Historically, Birmingham developed as a junction city connected to multiple outward routes:

towards Stratford and Warwickshire
towards Redditch and Worcestershire
towards the Black Country
towards Coventry and the east
towards Staffordshire and the north

In a localised economy, these outward corridors regain importance because they connect the city to:

smaller settlements
productive countryside
food-producing districts
secondary market towns

The city becomes less dependent upon long-distance national systems and more dependent upon its surrounding hinterland.

Rail and tram corridors, therefore, become not simply passenger systems, but structural links between urban demand and nearby productive landscapes.

The underlying transition

The fundamental shift is this:

Birmingham moves from being a growth-oriented metropolitan system into a corridor-based network of local economies.

Movement still exists, but it becomes more selective and more essential. Housing concentrates near transport nodes. Local services regain importance. Discretionary activity reduces relative to practical activity. Rail and tram systems become more valuable where they already survive.

The city does not disappear, nor does it return to the nineteenth century. Instead, it reorganises itself around proximity, accessibility, and reduced surplus energy.

What emerges is a different kind of city:

less expansive
less centralised
more uneven
but potentially more locally grounded

In that sense, Birmingham’s financial crisis may represent more than municipal failure. It may be an early sign of a wider transition in which large cities built for continuous growth are forced gradually to reorganise around a more localised and constrained economic reality.

284. Metropolitan Localism?

Posted on 10/05/2026 by Barry

The political fragmentation now appearing in cities such as Birmingham may look at first sight like simple chaos. The newspapers describe councils becoming “ungovernable”, with no party able to command a majority, old loyalties collapsing, and independents, Greens, Reform candidates and local issue groups all competing for influence. Yet beneath the confusion there may be something deeper happening. It may represent the first stages of a distinctly metropolitan form of localism.

For over a century British politics has depended on large national parties organising opinion into broad ideological camps – Labour, Conservative, Liberal, left and right. That structure made sense during the industrial age, when large national systems dominated life. Industry, finance, transport, energy, welfare and media were all becoming larger and more centralised. Political life naturally followed the same pattern.

But modern Britain no longer functions in that coherent way. The economy is fragmenting. Cultures differ sharply from place to place. Cities and towns experience completely different realities. National promises increasingly fail because conditions vary too widely across the country for a single policy to work everywhere.

The result is political disintegration.

What happened in Birmingham illustrates this clearly. Labour lost control after years of financial crisis, service cuts and administrative failure. But the replacement was not a single alternative party. Instead, the electorate scattered in many directions at once – Reform, Greens, independents, community campaigns and issue-based candidates.

Conventional commentators see this as dysfunction. They fear endless coalitions, paralysis and instability. In terms of traditional centralised politics, they are probably correct. These councils may indeed become extremely difficult to manage using the old top-down methods.

But localism would see something different.

What if this fragmentation is not failure, but the breakdown of an obsolete political structure?

The older metropolitan model assumed that giant cities could be administered almost like corporations. The central government allocated money. National parties imposed priorities. Councils became delivery mechanisms for centrally designed programmes. Local people increasingly lost meaningful influence over their own surroundings.

Now that system is weakening.

As trust in national politics declines, voters are beginning to revert to locality-based concerns. They vote not primarily for ideology, but for immediate lived experience – housing, refuse collection, neighbourhood decline, immigration pressures, transport failures, local identity, or dissatisfaction with distant bureaucracies.

That is highly significant.

The emergence of independents and highly localised political groups suggests that many people are no longer psychologically organised around national political identities. Instead they are reorganising around place.

This is one of the foundations of localism.

However, metropolitan localism differs from the rural or small-town version.

In smaller localities, localism often grows naturally from personal relationships, direct knowledge, and long familiarity between people. In giant urban areas, intimacy scarcely exists. The metropolitan version is therefore likely to emerge through clusters of neighbourhood identities within the larger city fabric.

One can already see hints of this.

Different wards within Birmingham now behave politically almost as separate territories, each with its own concerns, cultures and loyalties. Similar patterns are appearing elsewhere. Oldham, for example, now contains a fragmented council with multiple competing blocs rooted in very specific local and cultural identities.

This may look alarming to those who still assume Britain must be governed through stable national party machines. But localism suggests that large industrial-era political structures are simply losing coherence because the society underneath them is changing.

Indeed, there is a strong possibility that metropolitan localism emerges precisely because large cities have become unmanageable under centralised assumptions.

The bigger and more financially strained the systems become, the harder it is for any single authority to satisfy everyone. Birmingham’s bankruptcy was not merely an administrative accident. It may have been a sign that the scale itself has become dysfunctional.

As financial growth weakens nationally, this process may accelerate.

The central government will gradually lose the ability to subsidise failing urban systems indefinitely. Metropolitan authorities may then be forced to devolve practical responsibilities downward into smaller neighbourhood units, informal community structures, and highly localised arrangements simply because there is no other workable option.

In other words, localism may first appear not as an idealistic movement, but as an adaptive necessity.

Ironically, the apparent “ungovernability” may itself be part of the transition.

The old political order depended on central authority to maintain coherence across enormous populations. Once that coherence weakens, politics becomes more fluid, local, fragmented and place-specific. From the viewpoint of the old system this appears chaotic. From the viewpoint of localism it may represent political life returning closer to the realities of everyday existence.

The important point is that this fragmentation is unlikely to be temporary.

The old left-right framework is weakening across Britain because many of today’s problems are no longer fundamentally ideological. They are structural. Housing shortages, energy constraints, financial overstretch, deteriorating infrastructure and declining public trust cannot easily be solved through conventional party politics.

As these pressures deepen, people increasingly turn toward what is near, tangible and immediate – locality, neighbourhood, family, community and practical survival.

That is why the events in Birmingham may matter far beyond Birmingham itself.

They may represent an early glimpse of how metropolitan Britain gradually reorganises itself during the long transition away from the centralised growth-based age.

208. The Good News Is People Are Realizing We’re On Our Own

Posted on 27/12/2025 by Barry

We no longer care who’s behind the curtain because we’re in charge of our own lives now.

Charles Hugh Smith Dec 26

The Good News is people are realizing We’re On Our Own and starting to take action accordingly.

This article describes how people in one low-income county are localizing self-reliance rather than remain dependent on government subsidies.

The War on Poverty Failed Them–and They’re No Longer Waiting For Help (wsj.com, paywalled) Federal money and projects have come and gone so many times that McDowell County locals have little faith in the government to restore their fortunes; ‘We’re on our own.’

Here in the heart of America’s War on Poverty, some two-thirds of households with children still get food stamps, among the nation’s highest rates, and the estimated median household income hovers around $35,000. Nonfarm employment has plummeted 78% since 1975, according to data compiled by West Virginia University economist John Deskins, as the coal that once powered this rugged place is now mostly mined with machines, if at all, and no other industry has replaced it. The county has lost 67% of its residents over those years, the largest drop in West Virginia, its population dwindling from just over 51,000 to roughly 17,000.

With little faith left in government to break the cycle of poverty, those who remain say it’ss up to them to forge a brighter economic path.

“We’re on our own,” said Jason Tartt. “Nobody’s coming down here to save us.”

Tartt, the grandson of coal miners, is teaching locals, including retired miners and those recovering from opioid addiction, how to farm the forested hillsides. Down the winding, two-lane roads that connect communities, a pastor organizes bottled-water drives for neighbors whose tap water is undrinkable, while the local utility patches together funding for long-term solutions. A tiny, former coal town is trying to transform a shuttered Walmart into a new factory it hopes will jolt the local economy.

Their efforts are small in comparison to the government programs that have sought to revive McDowell County, and can’t make up for the prosperity that slipped away when the coal companies left. But they are spurring hope for renewal in some places, driven by one of the few constants here: resilience.

Nobody includes not just the federal government; it also includes Corporate America. Walmart pulls the plug on under-performing stores regardless of their local importance, and the rest of Corporate America is equally focused on next quarter’s profits.

Dependence breeds helplessness, passivity, addiction and the decay of community. There are alternatives. Those seeking to maintain the status quo dismiss alternatives that don’t require Wall Street, federal monies and Corporate America ownership because those institutions are buttering their bread.

But out in the real world, there are alternatives–underfunded, dismissed as impractical, etc., but real nonetheless, for example: Regenerative Farmers of America (6:19 minutes) (via Chad D.)

As I observe in my book on Self-Reliance in the 21st Century, we all have to start somewhere, and as the Chinese saying put it, the journey of a thousand miles starts with the first step. (A thousand li in the original, of course.)

Self-reliance sounds like an individual journey, but it’s fundamentally a community effort as no one person can fulfill every function. As the number of people participating expands, the self-reliance of each participant expands, too.

Those working on self-reliance tend to lead by example. Get the work done, share the results, keep moving forward. There’s no jetting around to meetings and conferences, just do the work on the ground. Get it done, learn from mistakes and from others’ experiences, experiment to identify what works best in local conditions.

When we realize we really are on our own, things change for the better. We start taking full responsibility for our health, work, goals and integrity. We start thinking through Plans A, B, and if things unravel, Plan C. We lose interest in addictive technologies and substances and other hindrances. We start noticing improvements and taking well-earned pride in them.

We no longer care who’s behind the curtain because we’re in charge of our own lives now.

181. Kodiak – A Working Example of Localism

Posted on 20/10/2025 by Barry

Kodiak Island, off the southern coast of Alaska, offers a remarkable example of localism in practice. Cut off from the mainland and long dependent on imported diesel, the island community took control of its own energy future. Through its local cooperative, the Kodiak Electric Association, the community invested in a mix of hydro and wind power, supported by battery and flywheel storage.

The result is a near-self-sufficient electricity system. Over 99 per cent of Kodiak’s power now comes from local renewable sources. The hydro plant at Terror Lake provides the steady base, while wind turbines on Pillar Mountain meet peak demand. Diesel generators stand by for emergencies but are rarely used.

This transformation was not driven by government decree or corporate ambition but by a local decision to reduce costs and dependence on imported fuel. By acting collectively, the community kept ownership, jobs, and profits within the island.

Kodiak’s success shows what can be achieved when local people take responsibility for essential services. It demonstrates that energy, like food, can be produced and managed within the locality, reducing vulnerability to global markets and reinforcing community resilience.

152. Localism in Cities, Towns and the Countryside

Posted on 04/09/2025 by Barry

I received the following comment in relation to one of my pieces:

Cities are the opposite of localism and cannot be made “local”. They are concentrations of the fruits of worldwide industrialism and cannot stand on their own. In the rich world, over 80% of people live in cities. They will do everything they can to keep them liveable as long as possible and when cities are no longer liveable they will die.

I believe that localism will apply to cities, but in a different way from the countryside.

Localism is not a choice. It will happen as the economy contracts. Supply chains will shorten. Imports will fall. The industrial systems that feed and support cities will become less reliable.

In villages, localism will feel positive. Small shops and services will return. Food will be grown nearby. People will rely more on their neighbours and less on distant suppliers. Communities will adapt.

In cities, the change will be harder. Large populations depend on constant supplies. When these fail, people will have to reorganise how they live. We are likely to see:

Growing pressure on food, water, and energy.
New sharing and trading networks within neighbourhoods.
More urban farming, using gardens, rooftops, and open spaces.
As a first step to moving out some will commute out to farming and food related activities out-of-town..

Some cities will manage the transition. Others may struggle and decline. Localism in cities will not mean independence but survival through smaller, self-supporting communities.

The countryside and the city will move in the same direction but at different speeds. Rural areas will regain more control and resilience. Urban areas will face harder choices. Both will be shaped by the same shift – from a global industrial economy to smaller, place-based systems.

82. A Quiet Shift: Could Local Communities Reclaim the Future of the UK Economy?

Posted on 21/09/2024 by Barry

The UK is facing challenging times. The cost of living is rising, with higher energy bills, expensive food, and wages that aren’t keeping pace. What used to be everyday activities—like eating out or signing up for a new class—are becoming luxuries for many. As the formal economy, dependent on endless growth, shows signs of strain, people across the country struggle to adapt.

But amid this uncertainty, there’s a growing recognition that the UK’s economy may need to change. A future where communities rely more on each other and less on big institutions is possible and may become essential.

The Informal Economy: A Growing Possibility

The informal economy is a space where localism thrives—where people exchange goods, services, and labour directly, without formal contracts or large institutions. It’s primarily unmeasured, unregulated, and operates under the radar. While it may seem like a fringe activity now, its potential to expand is real.

For example, in Brighton, there are small food cooperatives where people pool resources to buy fresh produce at reduced costs. In rural Scotland, some communities are experimenting with energy-sharing initiatives to combat rising heating bills. These activities are still modest in scale, but they point to the possibility of a future where more of the economy moves outside the formal market system.

The Future: A Path Not Yet Taken

As the UK’s formal economy continues to struggle, the question arises: could a more informal, community-based system become the norm? Right now, this shift is more of an undercurrent than a full-fledged movement, but it has the potential to grow.

If communities can begin to reclaim more of their economic lives, they could help redefine the economy to be less dependent on endless growth. Local networks of support, bartering, and shared resources could provide a more sustainable and resilient way of living—using less money, less energy, and relying more on trust and reciprocity.

However, this vision is far from being fully realized. The UK is at a crossroads, with most people still caught up in the formal economy’s struggles. Many essential services are becoming unaffordable, and people are being forced to cut back on spending. The path toward a more informal economy is unclear, but the seeds are being planted.

The Formal Economy: What Could Be Left?

As the formal economy contracts, it will likely focus more on national governance, banking, and security, leaving less room for everyday activities that communities can handle locally. This could open the door for the informal economy to step in and take on a larger role—especially for discretionary and community-based activities.

The Opportunity Ahead

The UK’s economic future is still undecided. The informal economy will not be guaranteed to grow, and localism will become a dominant force. However, as people struggle to afford life within the formal economy, the potential for change exists.

The real challenge is making people aware of this possibility. If localism, trust, and informal exchanges flourish, communities could begin to fill the gaps that big institutions and government budgets leave behind.

It’s a quiet shift right now, but with the proper awareness and support, it could become the foundation for a new kind of economy—one where growth is redefined, and people take back control of their economic lives, one small, local exchange at a time.

57. The Heart of Localism: Community Care

Posted on 16/03/2024 by Barry

In a community, the care home should be a vital thread, weaving connections that bind neighbours, families, and individuals into a resilient fabric of support and compassion.

At its core, localism will find a poignant expression within care homes, where relatives, neighbours, and residents come together in a shared journey of care and belonging.

Localist care homes will complement the homes of local people unable to care for themselves or be cared for at home due to physical or mental inability.

In the localism culture, the care home will become more than just a facility; it will transform into a nurturing sanctuary deeply embedded within its locality. Here, familial bonds intertwine with the community’s support, creating a symbiotic relationship that enriches the lives of all involved.

Relatives, drawn by proximity and a shared sense of responsibility, will play an integral role by caring for their loved ones within these community-centric care homes.

Beyond occasional visits, they will actively engage in residents’ daily lives, lending a personal touch that transcends care’s institutional and clinical aspects. Whether it’s spending quality time, sharing cherished memories, or simply being comforting, relatives become indispensable pillars of support within the care home environment.

The essence of localism will extend beyond familial ties. It will permeate through the very pores of the community, fostering a culture of collective responsibility and solidarity. Residents, recognizing their self-interests, will see the importance of their care home within the neighbourhood and rally together to contribute, creating a network of support that extends well beyond the confines of familial obligations.

From homemade meals to hand-knitted garments, the community will contribute what they can to the care home, ensuring every resident feels cherished and valued.

Books, magazines, and other forms of entertainment given to the home will provide enrichment and diversion. Through these gestures, the care home becomes both a place of residence and a vibrant hub of its community.

There is a profound attachment to locality at the heart of this interconnectedness. Residents who have called the area their home for years develop a deep-rooted affinity for their surroundings. They find solace and security in familiar faces, comfort in shared stories, and a sense of belonging that transcends mere residency. To expect them to move away as their end-of-life approaches is cruel and will become more so as the economy shrinks. The support of their family living within the community will be so important.

Localism will become increasingly important as the impact of the shrinking economy becomes more evident.

Who should live in localist care homes?

Localist care homes must be available only for genuinely local people who have lived in the area for maybe 15 years.

The possibility of outsiders living in the local care home(s) will spark local apprehension and resistance. It would disrupt the delicate balance of familiarity and continuity that defines localism.

From my experience, local people do not want elderly or disabled outsiders they don’t know to be imposed on their community.

This raises the issue of who will live in a locality which defines itself as localist.

The ethos of localism will gradually develop in a locality. Ownership of new- build houses in such areas must be limited to long-term (15-year) residents and their children: this will establish the caring ethos.

In the tapestry of localism, the care home emerges as a beacon of unity and compassion, where relatives, neighbours, and residents converge in a shared commitment to nurturing and supporting one another. It will be a testament to the power of community, where bonds forged in proximity and shared experiences weave together the very essence of belonging.

As we embrace the ideals of localism, care homes will play an invaluable role in fostering connections that transcend boundaries and enrich lives with every thread of compassion and care.