386. The Future of Political Parties in an Age of Localism

UK political parties developed to compete for control of central government. They offer national programmes, seek national majorities and promise to apply broadly similar policies throughout the country. This made sense during an expanding industrial economy. A growing state could collect more revenue, build national systems and distribute resources from the centre.

A shrinking economy will change this. As energy, materials and financial resources become less affordable, central government will find it increasingly difficult to fulfil national promises. Political parties may continue to argue about how the economy should be managed, but none will be able to restore the conditions on which their traditional programmes were based.

The important political question may therefore cease to be: “Which party should govern the country?” It may become: “How should each locality organise itself with the resources available to it?”

From national ideologies to local choices

National political parties divide society into large ideological camps. Socialists, conservatives, liberals, nationalists and greens each offer a different theory of how the whole country should be governed.

Localism does not require every locality to follow the same theory.

A locality may base its modus operandi on whatever its inhabitants consider suitable. One locality might favour co–operative ownership of land, workshops and essential services. Another might depend mainly upon family businesses, privately owned farms and voluntary associations. A third might organise much of its economy through extended family ownership, most would probably develop a mixture of all three.

This variety would not be a defect. It would be one of localism’s greatest strengths.

Localities differ in their geography, history, culture, skills and natural resources. A fertile agricultural locality should not be organised in the same way as a former industrial town, a fishing community or a densely populated city district. National uniformity can disregard these differences. Localism begins with them.

Politics would become practical

National politics is largely concerned with abstract questions. Should taxation rise or fall? Should an industry be privately or publicly owned? Should economic growth be encouraged by borrowing, investment or deregulation?

Local politics would be more immediate.

How much land is available for food production? Who owns it? How will elderly people be cared for? Can houses be repaired with local materials? Is there enough water? Which roads and buildings can still be maintained? Can waste become a useful resource? What skills must be taught to the young?

These questions do not always divide naturally along party lines. A Conservative gardener, a socialist engineer, a liberal shopkeeper and a green smallholder might agree completely about the need for a local bakery, a repair workshop or a reliable water supply.

Political allegiance would become less important than knowledge, competence and trust.

The possible decline of political parties

Political parties might not disappear, but their influence could diminish. They might remain important at the national level, where decisions would still be required about defence, currency, taxation, national transport, telecommunications and specialist medicine.

Within localities, however, national party labels might become increasingly unhelpful. Candidates could instead stand as individuals or as members of temporary local groups formed around particular needs.

There might be a food and land group, a water association, a housing co-operative, a traders’ council and a care organisation. These would not necessarily try to control the whole locality. They would contribute knowledge and undertake particular responsibilities.

Representation might grow out of useful activity. The person who successfully organises a community orchard, maintains a workshop or establishes a care network would possess practical authority. This would be different from the career politician whose main abilities are winning elections, following party discipline and appearing in the media.

UK-wide political parties might gradually become looser associations. Their role could be to express broad principles rather than impose detailed national programmes. Local members would be free to adapt those principles to local circumstances.

Different localities, different arrangements

A locality should be able to choose its own form of organisation within a simple national framework of law and fundamental rights.

Some localities might elect conventional councils. Others could make greater use of public meetings, citizens’ assemblies or occupational representation. Farmers, carers, craftspeople, teachers, traders and young people might each contribute to decisions affecting the locality.

One locality might provide communal allotments and shared machinery. Another might lease smallholdings to individual families. One might operate a local currency or system of credits. Another might rely upon sterling, barter and informal exchange. One might own its energy and water systems collectively. Another might contract these services to local enterprises.

Even neighbouring localities might adopt very different methods.

This would allow ideas to be tested on a manageable scale. If an arrangement worked well, other places could copy it. If it failed, the failure would be contained. National government would no longer have to impose a single experiment upon millions of people.

Freedom needs limits

Local autonomy could also have dangers. A powerful family, landowner, employer or faction might dominate a small community. Local majorities might treat minorities unfairly. Personal disputes could become political disputes.

Localism must therefore be accompanied by safeguards. National law could still protect fundamental rights, ensure access to justice and prevent exploitation. Higher authorities might intervene where a locality became corrupt, oppressive or incapable of meeting basic obligations.

There would always be tension between local freedom and national protection. It could never be removed entirely. The object would be to keep decisions at the lowest level capable of making them, while retaining enough national authority to protect people from abuse.

Localism is not the abolition of the state. It is a change in the division of responsibility.

Politics without a single destination

Modern political parties present history as a journey towards their preferred destination. For some, the destination is greater equality. For others, it is a freer market, faster growth, national strength or environmental sustainability.

Localism need not offer one final destination. It accepts that society will develop differently in different places. It is evolutionary rather than doctrinal.

People will adopt arrangements because circumstances make them useful. A co-operative may emerge because no private business can afford the necessary equipment. A privately owned workshop may prosper because one person has the skill and determination to run it. Shared grazing may return because individual holdings are too small. Informal care networks may grow because national services can no longer provide everything.

The resulting economy will not be purely socialist, capitalist or conservative. It will be shaped by necessity, custom and experience.

A different kind of political debate

National political debate asks which ideology is correct. Localist debate would ask what works here.

That small word, “here”, changes politics profoundly.

It replaces general promises with visible consequences. Decision-makers live among the people affected by their decisions. Resources cannot be treated as figures in a national account. They are particular fields, woods, buildings, streams, workshops and human abilities.

Failures become harder to conceal. Success becomes easier to recognise. People may still disagree strongly, but their arguments will concern circumstances they understand and results they can observe.

The future of politics may therefore lie less in the triumph of one political party than in the gradual weakening of party thinking itself. National parties will survive where national decisions remain necessary. Below that level, political life may become more varied, practical and personal.

A locality will not have to wait for the correct national ideology. It will be free to develop its own modus operandi, drawing upon whatever combination of private enterprise, common ownership, voluntary effort, custom and public authority best meets its needs.

In a shrinking economy, this freedom to differ may be essential. The future will not be planned successfully from one centre. It will be discovered, locality by locality.

343. The Real Answer is Not Civil Service Reform – It is Local Self-Government

David Frost’s recent article argues that the Civil Service is becoming an increasingly independent power within the British state. His concern is that unelected officials may acquire greater authority, making governments less able to carry out the policies for which they were elected.

Whether or not one agrees with every aspect of that argument, it highlights a much deeper problem. Britain has become so centralised that almost every important decision depends upon a vast national bureaucracy. As government grows larger, so too does the Civil Service required to administer it. The result is an inevitable struggle between ministers and officials over who really exercises power.

Localism approaches the problem from a completely different direction.

Instead of asking whether ministers or civil servants should control more of the machinery of the state, localism asks why so much power has been concentrated in Whitehall in the first place.

Most decisions affecting everyday life do not need to be made in London. Housing, local transport, small business support, woodland management, energy, local food production, planning, care services and much of education can all be organised within localities by people who understand local circumstances.

As responsibility moves back to local communities, the need for enormous central departments naturally declines. The question of whether permanent officials or ministers dominate those departments also becomes less important because fewer matters require national control.

Every transfer of responsibility to a locality removes work from Whitehall. It reduces paperwork, regulations, consultations and layers of administration. It also shortens the distance between those making decisions and those affected by them.

Perhaps the greatest weakness of highly centralised government is that responsibility becomes blurred. Ministers blame officials. Officials point to legislation. Agencies refer to guidance. Local authorities say they are following national policy. Eventually no one appears genuinely accountable.

Localism restores accountability because decision-makers live alongside the people affected by their decisions. Their successes and failures cannot be hidden behind complicated administrative structures.

There is another important consequence. Large bureaucracies naturally develop their own culture, priorities and institutional interests. Over time they seek stability, continuity and self-preservation. This is not necessarily because individuals have bad intentions, but because every large organisation acquires a life of its own.

Smaller local institutions are less able to become detached from the communities they serve. They remain visible, accessible and easier to influence.

The debate about Civil Service reform therefore risks treating the symptom rather than the cause. The real issue is not whether Britain should have a stronger Civil Service or a weaker one. It is whether so much authority should reside in Whitehall at all.

A genuinely localist Britain would still require a national government and a Civil Service, but both would be considerably smaller because they would perform fewer functions. Their purpose would be to deal with matters that genuinely require national coordination, leaving everything else to local decision-making.

The best way to prevent unelected institutions accumulating excessive influence is not endless constitutional reform. It is to reduce the amount of power that is concentrated at the centre.

The future of British democracy may depend less upon changing the Civil Service than upon rebuilding the capacity of local communities to govern themselves.

284. Metropolitan Localism?

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.

192. Immigration Overload – News from Canada

Canada has long prided itself on its multicultural mosaic, but for many Canadians, the pace of immigration—450,000 newcomers annually, with plans to hit 500,000 by 2026—feels like too much, too fast.

The top-down ideas of the UK government and other political parties are all of the same ilk. Top-down. Localism is on the horizon – maybe immigration, internally and externally, should be considered?

In small towns and big cities alike, people are voicing concerns: strained housing markets, overcrowded schools, stretched healthcare systems, and a sense that their communities are changing before they can catch their breath. A 2024 Angus Reid poll found 60% of Canadians believe immigration levels are too high, up from 35% a decade ago.

In places like Brampton or Surrey, where immigrants make up over half the population, locals worry about integration lagging behind arrivals. It’s not about rejecting newcomers; it’s about feeling unheard in a top-down system where Ottawa dictates numbers and policies, often ignoring regional realities.

Take Sarah, a teacher in Regina. Her classroom is bursting with new students, many needing language support her school can’t fully provide. Housing costs in her neighborhood have spiked 30% in five years, pricing out her own kids. She’s not anti-immigrant—she values integration—but feels the federal government’s one-size-fits-all approach disregards her community’s capacity. From Halifax to Kelowna, Canadians are asking: why can’t we have a say in who joins our towns and how many?

The solution lies in flipping the script: transfer immigration control to regional and municipal governments, using Swiss-style direct democracy to let residents decide. This decentralized approach respects local needs, rebuilds trust, and ensures immigration strengthens communities, not strains them.

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The Strain of Centralised Control

Canada’s immigration system is a federal fortress. Ottawa sets annual targets, selects economic migrants, and processes refugees, with provinces getting limited input through programs like the Provincial Nominee Program (PNP). Municipalities? They get no say, despite bearing the brunt of integration—schools, housing, transit, and social services.

Centralized control assumes Ottawa knows best, but Canada’s regions are wildly diverse. Vancouver’s tech-driven economy can absorb skilled migrants differently than Cape Breton’s fishing communities. A top-down system ignores these nuances, fueling resentment. Canadians aren’t saying “no” to immigration—60% in the Angus Reid poll support it in principle—but they want a voice. By handing immigration decisions to regions or municipalities, Canada can ensure newcomers fit local needs and capacities, turning frustration into collaboration.


Swiss-Style Democracy: Power to the People

Switzerland, a nation of 8.7 million with 25% foreign-born residents, thrives on decentralised governance. Its 26 cantons (like provinces) and 2,200 municipalities have significant autonomy over taxes, education, and even immigration policies. Swiss citizens vote in referenda—sometimes multiple times a year—on issues like asylum policies or foreign worker quotas. This hyper-local approach ensures communities aren’t overwhelmed, and newcomers integrate into places ready to welcome them.

Canada could adapt this model. Imagine if Regina residents voted on how many immigrants their city can support, based on housing and school capacity. Or if a rural Nova Scotia municipality, eager for young families, set its own criteria. Municipal councils or regional assemblies could hold referenda to decide numbers, vetting processes, and integration priorities. This isn’t about closing doors—it’s about opening them thoughtfully.

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Co-ops: A Local Integration Engine

Even with local control, integration matters. Newcomers need jobs, community ties, and a sense of belonging. Enter cooperative businesses—worker-owned enterprises that embody the democratic spirit of Swiss-style governance. Co-ops aren’t just economic tools; they’re social ecosystems where immigrants become co-owners, not just employees.

Picture a cleaning co-op in Toronto, where a Nigerian immigrant, Chidi, joins after his community approves a small intake of skilled workers. He’s not just scrubbing floors—he’s voting on contracts, sharing profits, and planning outreach.

“In the co-op, I’m not just cleaning homes—I’m building a home here.” —Chidi, a Nigerian immigrant in a Toronto cleaning co-op, on the power of ownership.

Through daily collaboration, Chidi learns Canadian workplace norms while contributing his own ideas. Language barriers fade as he debates strategies with colleagues, accelerating fluency. Co-ops turn immigrants into stakeholders, fostering pride and connection.


Overcoming the Hurdles

Skeptics might argue decentralization risks chaos or exclusion. Couldn’t some communities reject immigrants outright? Swiss-style democracy guards against this. Referenda are binding but operate within constitutional frameworks ensuring fairness. Canada could require municipalities to align with human rights laws, preventing discrimination while allowing local flexibility.

The goal is to ensure immigration flows where it’s sustainable. If Brampton says “slow down” while Prince George says “bring it on,” the system adjusts to community capacity. Pairing local immigration control with co-op opportunities ensures newcomers integrate into welcoming, prepared communities.


Conclusion: A Canada That Listens

Canadians aren’t anti-immigrant—they’re tired of being sidelined. A centralized system that ignores local realities fuels frustration, but Swiss-style democracy offers a fix. By letting regions and municipalities decide who joins and how many, we empower communities to welcome newcomers on their terms. Co-ops seal the deal, turning immigrants into co-owners who build Canada alongside locals.

It’s time to trust Canadians to shape their future. Support local co-ops, push for decentralized policies, and let’s build a Canada where every community has a say—and every newcomer a stake.