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Estates: An Intimate History
Britain's council estates have become a media shorthand for poverty, social mayhem, drugs, drink, and violence—the social ills they were built to cure. How did homes built to improve people's lives end up doing the opposite? Is their reputation fair, and if so who is to blame? Lynsey Hanley was born and raised on what was then the largest council estate in Europe, and she has lived for years on an estate in London's East End. Writing with passion, humor, and a sense of history, she recounts the rise of social housing a century ago, its adoption as a fundamental right by leaders of the social welfare state in mid-century, and its decline in the 1960s and 70s. What emerges is a vivid mix of memoir and social history, an engaging and illuminating book about a corner of society that the rest of Britain has left in the dark.
256 pages, Paperback
First published September 28, 2007
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December 19, 2019The first time I read this book I didn't like it.
Being both block-headed and stiff necked, I read it a second time, I couldn't say I had changed enough to like it, but I had developed an appreciation for what Hanley was trying to do it seemed to me that she was trying to show the role of housing in a total cultural-dynamic environment, through the medium of a memoir -the personal account of growing up on an estate, leavened with asides on housing policy and history as well as reflections on social housing in other countries. Hence the title, not a history of estates, but a personal history, one that ends with her and her husband as gentrifying leaseholders attempting to colonise an east London estate in the grip of regeneration fever.
One of the point which emerges from reading is given the class divisions in British life, these tend to be reproduced through the built environment, embodying ideas of isolation, distinction and control. Actually police functions were felt necessary not just through building design and estate layout but also in policy, so for instance Octavia Hill in her fin de siecle charitable social housing flats employed young unmarried women of 'good families' to visit her working class tenants and ensure that that the housewives had hung up net curtains in the windows and washed them regularly, and that the children were well scrubbed - yes even behind the ears. Simply to pay the rent regularly was not sufficient, one had to perform that one was properly deserving of one's tenure. One has the sense of William Booth's In Darkest England - implicitly empire at home and abroad. Unsurprisingly the Berlin Wall is particularly resonant in Hanley's imagination and she writes of the experience of growing up on a Birmingham estate as the construction of a Mauer im Kopf through which, with effort, she breaks thanks to reading the New Musical Express, and through bathing in the sacred pools of higher education.
The flip side is that it is a 'how I came to the person I am today' book, too intimate maybe to be a successful history which might have required a longer book.
Being both block-headed and stiff necked, I read it a second time, I couldn't say I had changed enough to like it, but I had developed an appreciation for what Hanley was trying to do it seemed to me that she was trying to show the role of housing in a total cultural-dynamic environment, through the medium of a memoir -the personal account of growing up on an estate, leavened with asides on housing policy and history as well as reflections on social housing in other countries. Hence the title, not a history of estates, but a personal history, one that ends with her and her husband as gentrifying leaseholders attempting to colonise an east London estate in the grip of regeneration fever.
One of the point which emerges from reading is given the class divisions in British life, these tend to be reproduced through the built environment, embodying ideas of isolation, distinction and control. Actually police functions were felt necessary not just through building design and estate layout but also in policy, so for instance Octavia Hill in her fin de siecle charitable social housing flats employed young unmarried women of 'good families' to visit her working class tenants and ensure that that the housewives had hung up net curtains in the windows and washed them regularly, and that the children were well scrubbed - yes even behind the ears. Simply to pay the rent regularly was not sufficient, one had to perform that one was properly deserving of one's tenure. One has the sense of William Booth's In Darkest England - implicitly empire at home and abroad. Unsurprisingly the Berlin Wall is particularly resonant in Hanley's imagination and she writes of the experience of growing up on a Birmingham estate as the construction of a Mauer im Kopf through which, with effort, she breaks thanks to reading the New Musical Express, and through bathing in the sacred pools of higher education.
The flip side is that it is a 'how I came to the person I am today' book, too intimate maybe to be a successful history which might have required a longer book.
September 10, 2024
Memoir, social history, and, most definitely, polemic, Hanley's book should be required reading for anybody seeking public office either at local or national level.
A sense of an opportunity wasted, when Bevan's longterm vision for national housing was sacrificed for short term political gain and quantity overcome the quality he demanded, informs the political thrust of the book. The cold, dead hand of Modernism added to the mix didn't help either.
No political party from the 1950s onwards came close to grasping what was going wrong and, increasingly, laid the blame for blighted estates on the residents themselves rather than housing policies that divided communities and chronic lack of investment from government. So, we can arrive at 2014, where 'council' is shorthand for undeserving poor, skivers, scroungers or other equally unpleasant ways to describe those who have been left behind in a land where the "right to housing has been supplanted by the Right to Buy housing."
Hanley also outlines better than anyone I've read the invisible obstacles, the "wall in the head" that divides the classes (although I would argue that you don't need to have grown up on a council estate to understand what it's like to scale the wall and find yourself in the weird otherness of "middle-class" land). The "wall" explains why so many never make it out of their blighted postcodes, even though there are no actual physical walls keeping them in.
Hanley's memories are almost unremittingly bad of her estate, but my early memories of my Nan's estate was of a freedom I can't give my own kids and a strong sense of neighbourliness, but then I'm 10 years older than Hanley and Right to Buy your council house wasn't an aggressive Tory policy but more of a gentle suggestion that most chose not to take up. Also most people on the estate worked in local industries (now mostly gone, I admit) and the local school wasn't a 'tough' school, so perhaps I can be more forgiving.
Hanley does have answers to the questions she raises and solutions to the problems she outlines. They might not fit a set political ideology but they make sense, based on experience and research.
Recommended for anyone who gives a damn about equality.
A sense of an opportunity wasted, when Bevan's longterm vision for national housing was sacrificed for short term political gain and quantity overcome the quality he demanded, informs the political thrust of the book. The cold, dead hand of Modernism added to the mix didn't help either.
No political party from the 1950s onwards came close to grasping what was going wrong and, increasingly, laid the blame for blighted estates on the residents themselves rather than housing policies that divided communities and chronic lack of investment from government. So, we can arrive at 2014, where 'council' is shorthand for undeserving poor, skivers, scroungers or other equally unpleasant ways to describe those who have been left behind in a land where the "right to housing has been supplanted by the Right to Buy housing."
Hanley also outlines better than anyone I've read the invisible obstacles, the "wall in the head" that divides the classes (although I would argue that you don't need to have grown up on a council estate to understand what it's like to scale the wall and find yourself in the weird otherness of "middle-class" land). The "wall" explains why so many never make it out of their blighted postcodes, even though there are no actual physical walls keeping them in.
Hanley's memories are almost unremittingly bad of her estate, but my early memories of my Nan's estate was of a freedom I can't give my own kids and a strong sense of neighbourliness, but then I'm 10 years older than Hanley and Right to Buy your council house wasn't an aggressive Tory policy but more of a gentle suggestion that most chose not to take up. Also most people on the estate worked in local industries (now mostly gone, I admit) and the local school wasn't a 'tough' school, so perhaps I can be more forgiving.
Hanley does have answers to the questions she raises and solutions to the problems she outlines. They might not fit a set political ideology but they make sense, based on experience and research.
Recommended for anyone who gives a damn about equality.
April 3, 2023
I really enjoyed this- the history policy stuff I felt was well laid out enough to build a picture of council housing in the UK, but it was her personal reflections that drew me in. Even though I found myself disagreeing, wanting to challenge how she brought certain things together or made certain sweeping statements, I felt that those misalignments were expressions of her obvious anguish on the topic. It’s definitely a memoir as opposed to a strict social history, but that personal touch made it all the more valuable for me. Also enjoyed her sarkiness
May 14, 2020
I found it difficult to get through the book. I wasn’t gripped or engaged, despite it being a fascinating subject.
On p232 she describes herself as an optimist, but that didn’t come across in the book. It feels very negative and equally negative about everything without nuances. It emerges that she does see some approaches to housing as worse than others, but I think her style and use of language obscures that. For example she describes green belt as strangling the cities, but in other places decries its demise.
I think the structure of the book could have been better thought out and if some of the end came into the beginning it might have been more posoitive throughout.
On p170 she writes, “In my experience and that of many others….” Here I think are entwined several problems. Firstly the nature of the book is muddled; the combination of personal experience and research doesn’t come together usefully. Secondly it’s a very self-centred approach and we don’t get any interviews or case studies (for which she probably had material I think) that would empathise with a range of people and give their perspectives; that might have made the book come alive. Thirdly, despite clearly having read a good deal, she is using her own personal experience as the main basis for arguing that her views are worth listening to and I think the generalisations she is making are sometimes beyond her expertise.
I didn’t read the references at the back of the book, but sometimes I would have liked footnotes or a numbered reference. For example on p172 she says, “.. those of us born in the 1970s have since been shown to be far more likely to remain in the same social class as our parents than those who were born a generation earlier” While this seems very probable, I would have liked a reference to the evidence.
I suppose most of all I think the mixture of memoir, a journalistic approach, polemic and history just doesn’t work and none of them are done quite well enough. The historical parts are written in what I think might be rather an old-fashioned way, sort of abstract third persons, without recognising the impact of the historian’s views (Interesting to know what Sandie thinks). Yet interspersed with very personal language. The memoir somehow isn’t sufficiently personal or in depth.
It’s such a huge subject, especially when you add in parts about the role of modernism, references to the Situationists, food policy, and I think she is out of her depth.
I was frustrated though because I wanted it to be good and useful.
On p232 she describes herself as an optimist, but that didn’t come across in the book. It feels very negative and equally negative about everything without nuances. It emerges that she does see some approaches to housing as worse than others, but I think her style and use of language obscures that. For example she describes green belt as strangling the cities, but in other places decries its demise.
I think the structure of the book could have been better thought out and if some of the end came into the beginning it might have been more posoitive throughout.
On p170 she writes, “In my experience and that of many others….” Here I think are entwined several problems. Firstly the nature of the book is muddled; the combination of personal experience and research doesn’t come together usefully. Secondly it’s a very self-centred approach and we don’t get any interviews or case studies (for which she probably had material I think) that would empathise with a range of people and give their perspectives; that might have made the book come alive. Thirdly, despite clearly having read a good deal, she is using her own personal experience as the main basis for arguing that her views are worth listening to and I think the generalisations she is making are sometimes beyond her expertise.
I didn’t read the references at the back of the book, but sometimes I would have liked footnotes or a numbered reference. For example on p172 she says, “.. those of us born in the 1970s have since been shown to be far more likely to remain in the same social class as our parents than those who were born a generation earlier” While this seems very probable, I would have liked a reference to the evidence.
I suppose most of all I think the mixture of memoir, a journalistic approach, polemic and history just doesn’t work and none of them are done quite well enough. The historical parts are written in what I think might be rather an old-fashioned way, sort of abstract third persons, without recognising the impact of the historian’s views (Interesting to know what Sandie thinks). Yet interspersed with very personal language. The memoir somehow isn’t sufficiently personal or in depth.
It’s such a huge subject, especially when you add in parts about the role of modernism, references to the Situationists, food policy, and I think she is out of her depth.
I was frustrated though because I wanted it to be good and useful.
August 16, 2012
Excellent deconstruction of the construction of public housing, with a lot of private history, recollection and musings thrown in. The chapter entitled: The Wall In The Head, about how living in an insular society can lead you to believe that anything outside of this society is either irrelevant or too complicated for you and your life, which struck a chord with my non-council house dwelling but Doncastrian beginnings. Hansley is not bovvered, er, bothered about being left or right wing or even particularly politically correct, but she never patronises or belittles the people who live on estates. She rails against the short-sightedness of previous housing planning and policy and voted for her own block of flats to be torn down. She prefers twee to modernism, Bevan to MacMillan and the Pet Shop Boys to NKOTB.
February 6, 2013
This book irritated me. Some bits, I utterly agreed with - the selling-out of communities and demonization of the working classes - other bits I considered sentimental pish - you *can* grow up on an estate, be successful and not feel alienated - or at least no more alienated than anyone else who listened to The Smiths... All in all - it's OK. (I'm also reading someone's Housing PhD thesis right now, though - this might also have something to do with my dislike of the book's "thinness")
September 16, 2017
Oh yes. This book provides the pathway from council estates to council blocks. She also refers to the 'wall of the mind,' how men and women perform the exclusion from society.
This is a remarkable book about housing. It is also a book about how housing transforms how we think about our identity and relationships.
Powerful. Important.
This is a remarkable book about housing. It is also a book about how housing transforms how we think about our identity and relationships.
Powerful. Important.
December 6, 2022
I first started reading this book when I was doing my CIH course, but I was only stripping it for quotes back then. It was nice to come back to it more than ten years later and enjoy it for what it is - an excellent history of the rise and decline of social housing, offering some very solid reasons for why "council houses" stopped being aspirational, universal housing for every working family, and will eventually end up as a last resort safety net for the most chaotic and desperate cases.
Perhaps a bit too personal - it is an "intimate" history, after all, but it's a great read, and clearly sets out how utopian ideals, Right to Buy and lowest quote tendering meant we missed a huge opportunity to make safe, comfortable and affordable housing estates the "norm".
Works well as a companion to Concretopia: A Journey Around the Rebuilding of Postwar Britain, if you haven't read it.
Perhaps a bit too personal - it is an "intimate" history, after all, but it's a great read, and clearly sets out how utopian ideals, Right to Buy and lowest quote tendering meant we missed a huge opportunity to make safe, comfortable and affordable housing estates the "norm".
Works well as a companion to Concretopia: A Journey Around the Rebuilding of Postwar Britain, if you haven't read it.
October 20, 2022
If I could give 0 stars I would have
November 8, 2020
‘Home is home: you cannot rightfully play politics with housing, yet that is precisely what has happened for a century.’
I thought this was a well written and personable account of the crisis and tragic state of the UK’s Social housing. Told from personal experience of the author, it hammers home the Problems and mistakes that have led to the decline of social housing, and more importantly the perception that we give to it in Britain. Unlike free education and the health service, it seems that we have forgot the principal that everyone has the right to shelter, even if they can’t do this themselves. It’s tragic, no doubt, and a worthwhile book To read so to understand how much so.
However, I felt that this book sometimes jumps too much onto the well trodden bandwagon that all high rises and public housing is horrendous, ugly and without architectural merit. Perhaps being an architect skews my perception too much, but having lived in council estates in London, they have characteristics and design that can lead to good standards of living, if given the chance. This is something the author doesn’t really touch on, and falls too much into the vilianising of concrete, high density living and shared social spaces. So much so that it overlooks the recent trends of brutalist buildings such as Goldfinger’s Balfron Tower (which the author slates) now causing the problematic polar issue, where the previous council flats have all been bought by hipsters and the middle classes because of their desirable design. Of course, a problem and threat to social housing in itself. However, I felt a more balanced view is needed. The author does acknowledge in the afterword about how council estates have, even in their modern guise, improved life and wellbeing. And there’s no denying the argument that many, many mistakes have been made, which is something we could all learn from. So I think a more positivity in the narrative would have helped reinforce these mistakes, rather than the more blanket onslaught.
I thought this was a well written and personable account of the crisis and tragic state of the UK’s Social housing. Told from personal experience of the author, it hammers home the Problems and mistakes that have led to the decline of social housing, and more importantly the perception that we give to it in Britain. Unlike free education and the health service, it seems that we have forgot the principal that everyone has the right to shelter, even if they can’t do this themselves. It’s tragic, no doubt, and a worthwhile book To read so to understand how much so.
However, I felt that this book sometimes jumps too much onto the well trodden bandwagon that all high rises and public housing is horrendous, ugly and without architectural merit. Perhaps being an architect skews my perception too much, but having lived in council estates in London, they have characteristics and design that can lead to good standards of living, if given the chance. This is something the author doesn’t really touch on, and falls too much into the vilianising of concrete, high density living and shared social spaces. So much so that it overlooks the recent trends of brutalist buildings such as Goldfinger’s Balfron Tower (which the author slates) now causing the problematic polar issue, where the previous council flats have all been bought by hipsters and the middle classes because of their desirable design. Of course, a problem and threat to social housing in itself. However, I felt a more balanced view is needed. The author does acknowledge in the afterword about how council estates have, even in their modern guise, improved life and wellbeing. And there’s no denying the argument that many, many mistakes have been made, which is something we could all learn from. So I think a more positivity in the narrative would have helped reinforce these mistakes, rather than the more blanket onslaught.
November 20, 2022
Given my own experience of council housing, albeit in a low-rise and lower density development, this charity-shop discovery was irresistible. The 'intimacy' of the author's personal history of estate living focuses on the delicate balance between the necessary provision of mass public housing, now more necessary than ever, and the creation of homes and community. Having previously occupied one attic room in a run-down house -- freezing in winter and suffocating in summer -- with access to a bathroom shared with all the other tenants of the multi-occupied house, the offer of a modern two-bedroomed suburban council house with a small garden and, best of all, security of tenure seemed almost too good to be true, as indeed it was. While I didn't wish to look a gift-house in the mouth, it did not take long to discover the disadvantages of a development known by disaffected residents as 'pig city'. The estate, which had been built on a disused airfield, was perfectly flat, treeless, windswept and unremittingly bleak. In those benighted days, corporation landscaping reduced to huge tracts of grass mowed to a semblance of green concrete, interrupted only by the unofficial 'desire lines' to the downmarket shopping centre cynically named after a royal palace. The house itself, while by no means a slum, soon revealed its defects. The electric warm-air central heating and immersion heater proved prohibitively expensive to use, the condensation dripped down the walls, and the bathroom became a no-go area in winter. Bathing children in a washing-up bowl in the kitchen took me back to my own childhood home, which had at least possessed a solid fuel boiler. However inadequate the facilities, my abiding memory is of desolation and depression, both of the housing and the inhabitants. I cannot recall any compensatory community spirit of the kind that Hanley describes. As for so many other residents, the only prospect of release from this supposedly benign experiment in confinement was a transfer to any available council stock elsewhere. We escaped after serving our two-year sentence, but I often wonder how subsequent tenants have fared.
September 8, 2017
Two aspects to this: on the one hand, the history of post-war social housing. In her brisk telling of it, Hanley seems a bit unfair to Le Corbusier & co. who (as usually happens) had their ideas chopped down in scale and done on the cheap, and then got the blame for the fact that the wider ecological change in living and urban economy they envisaged was never attempted. The other side is the personal story of a bright and ambitious child who knows she doesn't fit in and yet isn't confident about the outer world, where the first encounter is with 6th form college poseurs and condescension. That side of the book is a companion to Lisa McKenzie's "Getting By", and I would nominate both books as Essential Reading. Every current MP should have read these books.
April 4, 2025
This book was equal parts infuriating and fascinating.
It took me about a year to finish- Had to keep dipping in and out as I was so frustrated with the structure and tone in parts.
Positives:
* An accurate and lived experience- It is satisfying to read something on this topic that isn't from somebody completely detached from the experience- Hanley's commentary on growing up The Wood estate and her observations of invisible walls and lack of opportunity encouraged a much deeper understanding of how council estates aren't just about the housing- it is about how community is created and the risks of living in a single class environment.
* Some really important statistics linking Labour/ Conservative reign with amount of council houses built p/a. Hanley offered these in the form of discussion and illustrated graphs which allowed the reader to see for themselves the interesting relationship between who was in power and where the priorities were.
* The links to education and ambition were particularly interesting and Hanley effectively used a mix of her own experiences and statistics around schools both inside and outside council housing areas, to criticise the current education system and explore what was lacking in providing children and young people with a way out of the poverty into which they had been born.
Negatives:
* The structure of the text is confusing in parts as Hanley jumps between her experiences as a child/teenager in The Wood, Statistics about impact of c.housing, impact of architects, governmental criticism, her current experiences with c.housing and then occasional comments into impacts in Europe or USA of similar housing. All of which are valid comments to make, but at times the structure is chaotic and I had to go back and re-read previous pages to find an often tenuous link.
* I'm not entirely sure of the form and focus of this book- I feel like it would have made two very good books- One based on her experiences and how they shaped her, and another about how post war architecture shaped the social housing landscape we see today, with links to architects and improvements that could be made. I would have happily read both of these, but the mix of facts/statistics with statements of heavily personal and biased statements didn't sit well with me. Was it factual and trying to inform, or political and trying to persuade? I still don't really know.
* Her statement (made more than once) that 'everyone DESERVES a house with a garden' I found to be extraordinary. This was just one of many very odd statements made by Hanley that really undermined some of her very valid points about what constituted appropriate housing. She wrote about horrific conditions in high rise flats, where people didn't feel safe in their own hallways and where outer walls of their living space were blown away in gas leaks. She also poignantly outlined that many supermarkets wouldn't build in the area, thus denying fresh affordable food to those who needed it. Finally she outlined a lack of attractive and tended to outdoor space and youth facilities- All of which I agree are essential issues that need addressing. - But most of us (myself included) have at some point lived in accommodation without gardens for various reasons. They are lovely, they are good for us and they give us our own patch of outdoor space as our own- but part of ESSENTIAL living?- She didn't convince me.
* Lots of contradicting statements that meant that her issues would be very difficult to ever solve and she never really outlined any way that all of this could be achieved practically other than vague references to there being plenty of spare land on which to build. She strongly criticised the government for the 'bedroom tax' (being encouraged not to occupy a home with more bedrooms than needed) on social housing, stating that older couples deserved to stay in the 3 bed house where they had raised their children due to community ties (I agree about the community ties), however almost in the next breath, she was outlining how people who make the choice in social housing to have 6+ children should automatically be given bigger homes than the 2 bed accommodation that they currently live in. There was no acknowledgement that had the older couples been moved to a more size appropriate residence, then perhaps there would be more accommodation made available to those who needed it. Furthermore there is no acknowledgement that such families continue to grow despite having no personal means within which to provide enough space for their own family. -- Hanley lost me at the point when she then went on to criticise actual homeowners for not being subject to bedroom tax themselves... very odd indeed and Hanley was very quick to made statements like this which heavily criticised those who had worked for and had achieved the privilege of a mortgage and choice.
Overall this book was an engaging read. For all the criticism I had for it, I kept reading because where were parts that were significantly important in helping me to develop a wider understanding of the issues faced today. I learned a lot from this book and I have page-marked some links to look into further. There are some architects that I really want to look into further along with links to other books to provide a broader scope on key issues. I would recommend reading it, if this topic interests you, but be prepared for the structure!
It took me about a year to finish- Had to keep dipping in and out as I was so frustrated with the structure and tone in parts.
Positives:
* An accurate and lived experience- It is satisfying to read something on this topic that isn't from somebody completely detached from the experience- Hanley's commentary on growing up The Wood estate and her observations of invisible walls and lack of opportunity encouraged a much deeper understanding of how council estates aren't just about the housing- it is about how community is created and the risks of living in a single class environment.
* Some really important statistics linking Labour/ Conservative reign with amount of council houses built p/a. Hanley offered these in the form of discussion and illustrated graphs which allowed the reader to see for themselves the interesting relationship between who was in power and where the priorities were.
* The links to education and ambition were particularly interesting and Hanley effectively used a mix of her own experiences and statistics around schools both inside and outside council housing areas, to criticise the current education system and explore what was lacking in providing children and young people with a way out of the poverty into which they had been born.
Negatives:
* The structure of the text is confusing in parts as Hanley jumps between her experiences as a child/teenager in The Wood, Statistics about impact of c.housing, impact of architects, governmental criticism, her current experiences with c.housing and then occasional comments into impacts in Europe or USA of similar housing. All of which are valid comments to make, but at times the structure is chaotic and I had to go back and re-read previous pages to find an often tenuous link.
* I'm not entirely sure of the form and focus of this book- I feel like it would have made two very good books- One based on her experiences and how they shaped her, and another about how post war architecture shaped the social housing landscape we see today, with links to architects and improvements that could be made. I would have happily read both of these, but the mix of facts/statistics with statements of heavily personal and biased statements didn't sit well with me. Was it factual and trying to inform, or political and trying to persuade? I still don't really know.
* Her statement (made more than once) that 'everyone DESERVES a house with a garden' I found to be extraordinary. This was just one of many very odd statements made by Hanley that really undermined some of her very valid points about what constituted appropriate housing. She wrote about horrific conditions in high rise flats, where people didn't feel safe in their own hallways and where outer walls of their living space were blown away in gas leaks. She also poignantly outlined that many supermarkets wouldn't build in the area, thus denying fresh affordable food to those who needed it. Finally she outlined a lack of attractive and tended to outdoor space and youth facilities- All of which I agree are essential issues that need addressing. - But most of us (myself included) have at some point lived in accommodation without gardens for various reasons. They are lovely, they are good for us and they give us our own patch of outdoor space as our own- but part of ESSENTIAL living?- She didn't convince me.
* Lots of contradicting statements that meant that her issues would be very difficult to ever solve and she never really outlined any way that all of this could be achieved practically other than vague references to there being plenty of spare land on which to build. She strongly criticised the government for the 'bedroom tax' (being encouraged not to occupy a home with more bedrooms than needed) on social housing, stating that older couples deserved to stay in the 3 bed house where they had raised their children due to community ties (I agree about the community ties), however almost in the next breath, she was outlining how people who make the choice in social housing to have 6+ children should automatically be given bigger homes than the 2 bed accommodation that they currently live in. There was no acknowledgement that had the older couples been moved to a more size appropriate residence, then perhaps there would be more accommodation made available to those who needed it. Furthermore there is no acknowledgement that such families continue to grow despite having no personal means within which to provide enough space for their own family. -- Hanley lost me at the point when she then went on to criticise actual homeowners for not being subject to bedroom tax themselves... very odd indeed and Hanley was very quick to made statements like this which heavily criticised those who had worked for and had achieved the privilege of a mortgage and choice.
Overall this book was an engaging read. For all the criticism I had for it, I kept reading because where were parts that were significantly important in helping me to develop a wider understanding of the issues faced today. I learned a lot from this book and I have page-marked some links to look into further. There are some architects that I really want to look into further along with links to other books to provide a broader scope on key issues. I would recommend reading it, if this topic interests you, but be prepared for the structure!
September 24, 2022
A fascinating read about social history, the welfare system and social affordable housing
December 1, 2025
Had to read for class. An interesting and educational look into British council estates, as well as how class systems are entrenched in our architecture and city planning.
January 30, 2023
110% recommend, this should be essential reading for all policy & decision makers. I have this book in the back of my mind every day at work & at home. Incredibly thought provoking.
April 9, 2009
A fascinating trawl through the history of social housing provision in the UK since the construction of the historic Boundary Estate in Bethnal Green in 1893. Hanley's account really comes to life in the book's pivotal chapter, "Slums in the Sky" with shocking tales of corner cutting and well meaning modernism. Erno Goldfinger - rehabilitated in some quarters in recent years - is firmly back in the Naughty Seat although a one bedroom apartment in his Trellick Tower will still set you back over £400,000.
The book is polemical and comes across as more passionate as a result. The Conservative administration of Harold Macmillan is blamed for many of the ills. The book could perhaps have done with a little more international material - "La Haine" and Chicago's Cabrini Green are mentioned and it is crying out for an index, but overall, this is essential reading. Hanley's most interesting question revolves around the stigma of council housing - why are we embarrassed to have our homes provided for by the state when there is no such outcast status associated with free education or health? That Mrs. Thatcher was a great brainwasher.
The book is polemical and comes across as more passionate as a result. The Conservative administration of Harold Macmillan is blamed for many of the ills. The book could perhaps have done with a little more international material - "La Haine" and Chicago's Cabrini Green are mentioned and it is crying out for an index, but overall, this is essential reading. Hanley's most interesting question revolves around the stigma of council housing - why are we embarrassed to have our homes provided for by the state when there is no such outcast status associated with free education or health? That Mrs. Thatcher was a great brainwasher.
October 6, 2017
I recently saw a talk by Lynsey Hanley and she was so articulate and so knowledgeable that I simply had to buy her book. I wasn't disappointed. Parts of my family have lived in council housing and I've been on or near estates for most of my life. Estates gave me a much better understanding of the thinking (both good and bad) behind the world I grew up in. More than that, though, this book is brilliantly written, funny and scathing by turns and often deeply personal. It's never dry or boring. If you have any interest in social history, then this is essential reading.
March 24, 2020
A disappointing read, the caustic style of the book that was aiming to be polemical instead read like a muddled list of undeserved complaints. The book's contradictions on ownership were particularly confusing and I thought the author painted an inaccurate picture of Le Corbusier that was consistent with their argument rather than history.
The book's few bright spots appeared when the author was describing her childhood and family
s relationship with estates and the community fostered in their estate.
The book's few bright spots appeared when the author was describing her childhood and family
s relationship with estates and the community fostered in their estate.
March 25, 2024
Instead of this read:
Municipal Dreams, John Boughton
The Social Distance Between Us, Darren McGarvey
& Chavs, Owen Jones.
The author had an opinion, failed to interrogate her bias, and sought only information to support it.
This is a product of its time where Benefits Britain, ASBOs, Teenage Mums, Yobs and Chavs were terms shoved down our throats constantly. The author appears to have internalised all this, and maybe should have had some therapy rather than contributing by writing this book.
Lacking.
Municipal Dreams, John Boughton
The Social Distance Between Us, Darren McGarvey
& Chavs, Owen Jones.
The author had an opinion, failed to interrogate her bias, and sought only information to support it.
This is a product of its time where Benefits Britain, ASBOs, Teenage Mums, Yobs and Chavs were terms shoved down our throats constantly. The author appears to have internalised all this, and maybe should have had some therapy rather than contributing by writing this book.
Lacking.
January 8, 2014
Interesting and pleasant read. De-demonizing council housing tenants for their poverty, only to put the blame entirely on the architects for their design.
January 15, 2019
“Council homes were never intended to be holding cages for the poor, but somehow, that’s how they ended up.”
Like her fellow contemporaries Owen Jones, Selina Todd and Darren McGarvey, Hanley tackles the perennial issue of the British class system, highlighting the increasing gulf between the rich and poor that leads to so much of the ongoing poverty. In particular she traces the history of government housing from the start of the 20th century, to the golden era of sorts during the post war ‘New Jerusalem’ period, up to the rapid decline and deterioration, from the 70s onwards, where a series of poor quality council housing estates throughout the UK, gained it a chronic and damaging stigma that still holds strong to this day.
“People fight themselves or each other, rather than the system, simply because it’s easier and there’s an obvious way to do it.”
She quotes many historians, town planners, architects and also applies elements of psycho-geography to her argument, which at times even recalls writers like Iain Sinclair and Rowan Moore. Le Corbusier looms large in here, but there is also room for the likes of Ebenezer Howard and his idea of the garden city, which started with Letchworth in Hertfordshire.
In so many ways the problem with cheap, ill thought out social housing shares the same problems of most poor government decisions in general, in that they tend to be a result of privileged people making decisions that will not directly impact on them or their lives, so this ignorance and often arrogance frees them up to be often quite ruthless and damaging in their actions to people that they never have to answer to or engage with.
We see how after the war a whole generation of British based architects came to be heavily influenced and inspired by the work and philosophy of Le Corbusier, in particular his Unite d’habitation flats in Marseille. This growing dream of “streets in the sky” paved the way for Brutalist architecture under the guise of Modernism and progress. This was a style typified in a number of grim creations throughout many cities in Britain. Structures such as Basil Spence’s Queen Elizabeth Square in the Gorbals, Glasgow, Wilson and Womersley’s Hulme Crescents in Hulme, Manchester and Owen Luder and Rodney Gordon’s Tricorn Centre in Portsmouth.
Glasgow was one of the first and more enthusiastic cities to be seduced by the ideas from the continent. Chief engineer Robert Bruce, and author of the Bruce Report, triggered this new wave. His report would go onto greatly shape and influence the city of Glasgow. Bruce was especially influenced by Le Corbusier and from the 50s onwards Bruce demolished and rebuilt 170’000 of its 280’000 homes. The council would go on to build a staggering 300 high-rise blocks in the twenty years that followed, making it the British city with the most tower blocks dwelling per head. At one point in the 1970s around 70% of all Scottish housing was rented from the council.
Hanley makes a really good point in saying that Thatcher’s ‘Right to Buy’ scheme was a Trojan horse for wider privatization. By the time Labour entered government in May 1997, £20 billion worth of investment was needed just to bring every council home up to a reasonable standard as Thatcher was so obsessed and focused on selling off so many council houses, but years down the line this would have the devastating impact of leaving a huge shortage in available and affordable council houses.
This was a really enjoyable book, packed with a lot of absorbing background and social history. I learned a lot and it made me look up even more information elsewhere. Hanley makes for an affable and occasionally amusing narrator, her retelling of a visit to Liverpool where she spoke to some kids about their Lacoste tracksuits, was particularly funny in its accuracy. Her own experiences of living on estates in Birmingham and in London, certainly gives this book an amplified ring of authenticity, which the vast majority of the middle classes, who normally write such books, couldn’t bring to their work.
October 23, 2021
This was interesting and personal but at the same time based on opinion too much for me to treat this as more than a good insight rather than an authoritative guide. Hanley's own experience was used effectively and it did involve a lot of research, but the conclusions were also her own and didn't have the evidence to back them up.
As Hanley states herself this is a look at both class and council estates, although she considers them so intertwined that it would be impossible to isolate the estates themselves. The history of public housing was comprehensive but concise, and certainly provided a good overview of council housing in the UK, from early idealism, to Supermac pragmatism in building lots of council housing, then idealogical resistance to its provision. The author's own experiences in both her upbringing and current housing situation were both enlightening and relevant to the subject, and certainly added something that couldn't have been gleaned from an academic study.
It diverged from academia in other ways too, and while stats on health outcomes and unemployment rates were included, a lot of the conclusions were the author's own view without the evidence to back up her assertions. Sometimes Hanley was open about the complex issues at hand - actual slums were terrible, estates on the periphery of cities could be isolated and ghetto-ised when dominated by tower blocks, yet residents still felt isolated when moving to the better designed interwar estates that still had better links to the city centre. It was difficult for me to accept that the houses themselves were the problem when any of the solutions tried still had issues, and after exploring the problems of various different designs of social housing projects, suggested that one planner's vision of three different basic designs of house would have made a significant difference to the monotony of an estate.
One of Hanley's suggestions was to avoid ghettos by mixing classes together. But it was interesting that this was tried in Chelmsley Wood (where she was brought up) and the middle classes moved away. 'White flight' is common in American cities, and there are plenty of deprived areas in the USA that have high crime rates despite their detached houses and private gardens - I felt that Hanley put too much stock in the town planning itself. One suspects that if high density housing was built rather than tower blocks, she would be attributing the social problems to a lack of green open spaces that encouraged people to stay in their own gardens, and that having to walk by the road to get to amenities discouraged exercise. But homophobic abuse, a general feeling of being an outsider, and fear and anxiety when walking past groups of youths near her local shop needed a bit more than 'boredom' and a lack of youth groups to justify.
Some injustices were less debateable - the lack of options for fresh and healthy food, poorer transport links, a lack of local jobs near new developments and fewer community groups will certainly have a negative effect. It's just not clear to what extent these factors amplify the existing social problems. Unlike in slums, the houses themselves are not the health hazard, but the social enivironment, and this book doesn't prove the causal link that tower blocks are to crime what smoking is to lung cancer.
This is not a sentimental book and Hanley herself is not the story save her walk to introduce the reader to the Wood. Nor is she particularly didactic and is pragmatic enough to accept private flats in the same project to fund public housing. Her own experiences were illustrative of some of the issues but I didn't feel she offered enough proof to support her conclusions, although I did agree with one of her central points, which is that everyone deserves to live in a safe residence without being exploited. Somebody else will need to provide the solution though.
As Hanley states herself this is a look at both class and council estates, although she considers them so intertwined that it would be impossible to isolate the estates themselves. The history of public housing was comprehensive but concise, and certainly provided a good overview of council housing in the UK, from early idealism, to Supermac pragmatism in building lots of council housing, then idealogical resistance to its provision. The author's own experiences in both her upbringing and current housing situation were both enlightening and relevant to the subject, and certainly added something that couldn't have been gleaned from an academic study.
It diverged from academia in other ways too, and while stats on health outcomes and unemployment rates were included, a lot of the conclusions were the author's own view without the evidence to back up her assertions. Sometimes Hanley was open about the complex issues at hand - actual slums were terrible, estates on the periphery of cities could be isolated and ghetto-ised when dominated by tower blocks, yet residents still felt isolated when moving to the better designed interwar estates that still had better links to the city centre. It was difficult for me to accept that the houses themselves were the problem when any of the solutions tried still had issues, and after exploring the problems of various different designs of social housing projects, suggested that one planner's vision of three different basic designs of house would have made a significant difference to the monotony of an estate.
One of Hanley's suggestions was to avoid ghettos by mixing classes together. But it was interesting that this was tried in Chelmsley Wood (where she was brought up) and the middle classes moved away. 'White flight' is common in American cities, and there are plenty of deprived areas in the USA that have high crime rates despite their detached houses and private gardens - I felt that Hanley put too much stock in the town planning itself. One suspects that if high density housing was built rather than tower blocks, she would be attributing the social problems to a lack of green open spaces that encouraged people to stay in their own gardens, and that having to walk by the road to get to amenities discouraged exercise. But homophobic abuse, a general feeling of being an outsider, and fear and anxiety when walking past groups of youths near her local shop needed a bit more than 'boredom' and a lack of youth groups to justify.
Some injustices were less debateable - the lack of options for fresh and healthy food, poorer transport links, a lack of local jobs near new developments and fewer community groups will certainly have a negative effect. It's just not clear to what extent these factors amplify the existing social problems. Unlike in slums, the houses themselves are not the health hazard, but the social enivironment, and this book doesn't prove the causal link that tower blocks are to crime what smoking is to lung cancer.
This is not a sentimental book and Hanley herself is not the story save her walk to introduce the reader to the Wood. Nor is she particularly didactic and is pragmatic enough to accept private flats in the same project to fund public housing. Her own experiences were illustrative of some of the issues but I didn't feel she offered enough proof to support her conclusions, although I did agree with one of her central points, which is that everyone deserves to live in a safe residence without being exploited. Somebody else will need to provide the solution though.
June 20, 2021
In the United States we don't have an exact equivalent of council housing. As an Anglophile, the history of council estates and experience of those who have lived in them has - for some reason unknown to me - always been a subject of personal interest among so many aspects of life in the UK. I recommend this text for three great reasons:
(1) This is not a dry academic text, survey of the estates, or simple timeline. It's an intensely personal story of Ms Hanely and her family's experience, woven into a richly-researched history of the development and evolution of council housing, primarily in England but touching lightly on those in Wales and Scotland as well.
(2) It's divided into six chapters, each with a primary theme, telling both the story of her family and council housing in distinct phases, including how the experiences were so formative to her conception of self and how she grew past her narrow view of the world beyond the council estate.
(3) The introduction and notes are just as critical as the chapters. If you normally skip either, don't. The notes provide an incredible starting point for so many additional good reads on the subject.
My favorite chapters are the second and third. Chapter 2 "The End of the Slums: The Rise of the Council Estate" covers the origination of formalized council housing, focusing on the interwar period and the years immediately following WWII. Minimum standards and substantial government focus on the creation of solid housing to clear the urban tenements and rebuild following the bombings of the war created a substantial stock of good housing and significant share of the population flowing into these homes.
Chapter 3 "Slums in the Sky: The Fall of the Council Estate" deals with the changes that began in the 1950s, as Conservative government policy relaxed minimum standards and incentivized "building up" to change focus to deliver significantly higher annual numbers of homes beyond what the preceding Labour governments achieved. This, combined with the influence of Le Corbusier's influence on urban planning, the rise of modernist architecture, and the use of concrete in Brutalist design, led to the expanse of pre-fab concrete "tower blocks" of flats. These did not take into account the needs of the people who would live there, fostered damp and molding conditions, and suffered from lack of attention and funding sufficient to maintain them at even a minimum level of upkeep, to say nothing of significant improvement over time. This chapter also covers the impact of Thatcherism and Right to Buy over the past four decades, and the depletion of solid and affordable council housing to meet the needs of those who most need it.
Overall this book overcomes the present-day stereotypical impression of "council housing estates" which is a particularly persistent POV for a foreigner like me. The actual story is much more nuanced, and many people over the past century dearly loved their council-owned homes. Perhaps the best quote that sums the entire arc of how it arrived where it is today comes from Chapter 5: "It may not be entirely the fault of local authorities that council housing has failed to do its job properly - if councils had never been subsidized to build highly, quickly and cheaply, and if central government had kept them on a drip-feed of money to repair and maintain their stock, things might have turned out very differently - but the dull sludge of bureaucracy and complacency helped over the years to sever much of the trust that tenants once had in their council landlords."
Ms Hanley has provided a brilliant, intensely personalized history which makes for compelling and fast reading, whether you share a similar experience to hers or have an entirely different background.
(1) This is not a dry academic text, survey of the estates, or simple timeline. It's an intensely personal story of Ms Hanely and her family's experience, woven into a richly-researched history of the development and evolution of council housing, primarily in England but touching lightly on those in Wales and Scotland as well.
(2) It's divided into six chapters, each with a primary theme, telling both the story of her family and council housing in distinct phases, including how the experiences were so formative to her conception of self and how she grew past her narrow view of the world beyond the council estate.
(3) The introduction and notes are just as critical as the chapters. If you normally skip either, don't. The notes provide an incredible starting point for so many additional good reads on the subject.
My favorite chapters are the second and third. Chapter 2 "The End of the Slums: The Rise of the Council Estate" covers the origination of formalized council housing, focusing on the interwar period and the years immediately following WWII. Minimum standards and substantial government focus on the creation of solid housing to clear the urban tenements and rebuild following the bombings of the war created a substantial stock of good housing and significant share of the population flowing into these homes.
Chapter 3 "Slums in the Sky: The Fall of the Council Estate" deals with the changes that began in the 1950s, as Conservative government policy relaxed minimum standards and incentivized "building up" to change focus to deliver significantly higher annual numbers of homes beyond what the preceding Labour governments achieved. This, combined with the influence of Le Corbusier's influence on urban planning, the rise of modernist architecture, and the use of concrete in Brutalist design, led to the expanse of pre-fab concrete "tower blocks" of flats. These did not take into account the needs of the people who would live there, fostered damp and molding conditions, and suffered from lack of attention and funding sufficient to maintain them at even a minimum level of upkeep, to say nothing of significant improvement over time. This chapter also covers the impact of Thatcherism and Right to Buy over the past four decades, and the depletion of solid and affordable council housing to meet the needs of those who most need it.
Overall this book overcomes the present-day stereotypical impression of "council housing estates" which is a particularly persistent POV for a foreigner like me. The actual story is much more nuanced, and many people over the past century dearly loved their council-owned homes. Perhaps the best quote that sums the entire arc of how it arrived where it is today comes from Chapter 5: "It may not be entirely the fault of local authorities that council housing has failed to do its job properly - if councils had never been subsidized to build highly, quickly and cheaply, and if central government had kept them on a drip-feed of money to repair and maintain their stock, things might have turned out very differently - but the dull sludge of bureaucracy and complacency helped over the years to sever much of the trust that tenants once had in their council landlords."
Ms Hanley has provided a brilliant, intensely personalized history which makes for compelling and fast reading, whether you share a similar experience to hers or have an entirely different background.
December 20, 2023
A social history of segregated housing in Britain, how thw dream of a more equal approach died, and the consequences for those who lived through it.
Mass social (or council) housing was intended, in the immediate aftermath of the Second World War, to act as a social glue by mixing all sorts of people together so as to break down the walls of class that blighted British society. It failed: Aneurin Bevin's vision was diluted, as were the building standards, resulting in housing that was both inferior to private stock and immediately identifiable as such, making it stigmatic to live there. The result has been to enhance the blight, erecting what Hanley refers to as "a wall in the head" of people whose self-image is poisoned by poor housing, poor neighbours, and poor (or indeed non-existent) services.
The wall in the head exists in many forms, and one doesn't have to have grown up on a council estate to have one. But however tall it is, the wall is easy to build when young and hard to climb when older, and it'll affect you all your life in some way or other. Housing and class have a lot to do with forming the wall.
It's impossible to miss the connection with Between the World and Me, not least because of the catchy and often-repeated phrasing. Ta-Nehisi Coates was more concerned with physical violence rather than social class, but the parallels are there: different people from different circumstances have completely different perceptions of the country in which they live and what it's supposed to do for them. I see this all the time with different student cohorts. It's to some extent a matter of expectations of others, but also of the ability to see opportunities beyond the present. An inward-looking social environment absolutely stunts people's vision of what's possible for them.
The book ends on quite q positive note: the willingness of housing providers to renovate (rather than simply dispose of) social housing stock, and the availability of cash to do so. Whether this is sufficient is an open question, and certainly we still see developers skirting-round the requirement to provide "affordable" housing, in some cases literally walling-off the social from the private units, just as happened with the first estates built in the 1940s.
Mass social (or council) housing was intended, in the immediate aftermath of the Second World War, to act as a social glue by mixing all sorts of people together so as to break down the walls of class that blighted British society. It failed: Aneurin Bevin's vision was diluted, as were the building standards, resulting in housing that was both inferior to private stock and immediately identifiable as such, making it stigmatic to live there. The result has been to enhance the blight, erecting what Hanley refers to as "a wall in the head" of people whose self-image is poisoned by poor housing, poor neighbours, and poor (or indeed non-existent) services.
The wall in the head exists in many forms, and one doesn't have to have grown up on a council estate to have one. But however tall it is, the wall is easy to build when young and hard to climb when older, and it'll affect you all your life in some way or other. Housing and class have a lot to do with forming the wall.
It's impossible to miss the connection with Between the World and Me, not least because of the catchy and often-repeated phrasing. Ta-Nehisi Coates was more concerned with physical violence rather than social class, but the parallels are there: different people from different circumstances have completely different perceptions of the country in which they live and what it's supposed to do for them. I see this all the time with different student cohorts. It's to some extent a matter of expectations of others, but also of the ability to see opportunities beyond the present. An inward-looking social environment absolutely stunts people's vision of what's possible for them.
The book ends on quite q positive note: the willingness of housing providers to renovate (rather than simply dispose of) social housing stock, and the availability of cash to do so. Whether this is sufficient is an open question, and certainly we still see developers skirting-round the requirement to provide "affordable" housing, in some cases literally walling-off the social from the private units, just as happened with the first estates built in the 1940s.
September 6, 2018
An engaging and highly personal account of the history of social housing in the UK, which started so well with "homes fit for heroes" and the efforts of Bevan and later Macmillan to provide decent and affordable housing as part of post war reconstruction and the slum clearance programmes of the 1960s. But as someone once said "the road to hell is paved with good intentions" or in this case shoddy system built identikit houses, oppressive tower blocks, isolated edge of town estates with poor transport links and few jobs, the warehousing of "problem families", the isolation of the poor and vulnerable. Somewhere along the way the dream of decent social housing crashed into the reality of poorly designed and poorly maintained sink estates, and the advent of increased housing ownership through the Right to Buy. Council housing tenants are stigmatised and looked down on, and new council house provision is at an all time low. Since this book was written, the Grenfell disaster has brought the failings of shoddily built and maintained social housing and the buck passing culture of local authorities and housing agencies into even sharper focus. Everyone agrees that the current UK housing model is broken, with the majority of young people being priced out of home ownership and condemned to a life time of paying rent to unregulated landlords, whilst older home owners, particularly in London and the South East, congratulate themselves on their unearned property gains. New ideas and new thinking is urgently required.
August 8, 2024
I enjoyed Hanley's descriptions of her own family history in estates and her walks through the estate of her childhood as well as her focus on living environment and conditions for a successful and happy life while not blaming those in bad living conditions for social problems.
Nevertheless the book is so much focused on the UK, with lengthy descriptions of local and countrywide political decision-making, that it didn't feel as relevant to the EU situation as I expected.
While the difficulties with estates and tower blocks are laid out clearly, some of the criticism seemed unfounded to me - Hanley states that raising kids and living above the ground in apartments buildings is always worse than living in a house (which I find a surprising statement, but maybe people in the UK have different views here), describes concrete as a building material and Modernism / Brustalism quite negatively (also not something everyone would agree on) and paints such negative pictures of the council estates mentioned that I was surprised when looking up pictures that all of them seem to be very average, not quite beautiful but not worse than what you would see in somewhere in probably every European City.
We unfortunately know from experience that some of those buildings are far from safe to live in (as the author explains), which together with social problems and few council housing being build under conservative leadership would have made enough of a point without dismissing all high rise building.
Nevertheless the book is so much focused on the UK, with lengthy descriptions of local and countrywide political decision-making, that it didn't feel as relevant to the EU situation as I expected.
While the difficulties with estates and tower blocks are laid out clearly, some of the criticism seemed unfounded to me - Hanley states that raising kids and living above the ground in apartments buildings is always worse than living in a house (which I find a surprising statement, but maybe people in the UK have different views here), describes concrete as a building material and Modernism / Brustalism quite negatively (also not something everyone would agree on) and paints such negative pictures of the council estates mentioned that I was surprised when looking up pictures that all of them seem to be very average, not quite beautiful but not worse than what you would see in somewhere in probably every European City.
We unfortunately know from experience that some of those buildings are far from safe to live in (as the author explains), which together with social problems and few council housing being build under conservative leadership would have made enough of a point without dismissing all high rise building.
November 15, 2016
Grim, absorbing and hopeful, Lynsey Hanley has written a surprisingly engaging non-fiction analysis of the council estate phenomenon in Britain. Full of historical and statistical detail, followed by the author’s personal experiences of growing up on a council estate and the impact that had on her life, this book is very accessible and not at all dry. It does make you shake your head in wonder at the willful blindness and arrogance of politicians, sociologists and architects over the past 70-80 years and want to beat your head against the wall in frustration.
“Council estate:” a phrase that instantly conjures up a myriad of conflicting emotions and opinions amongst the British. Condemned as a failed social housing experiment by a well-meaning Labour government needing to move thousands of people out of appalling slum conditions; turning into places where single mothers, broken homes, juvenile delinquents, the unemployed and drug dealers eke out an existence. OR large areas of urban housing where hundreds of ordinary families live whilst hold down hardworking jobs and raising their children as best they can. The sad truth is, even in the 21st century, a child raised on a council estate is instantly labeled as someone who comes from an area and background that is considered highly suspect. As Hanley states in the Introduction, “Any rich or famous person about whom it’s discovered that they were brought up in a council house, no matter what else distinguishes them, is understood to have something of the Pygmalion about them.”
Hanley (who grew up in one of Britain’s largest council estates and now lives in another) describes in excruciating detail the vicious cycle/self-fulfilling prophecy that so many estates fall victim to: that no matter how high the aspirations of the inhabitants, even local councils and newspapers will describe these areas as shameful and depressing, making those same inhabitants wonder what is the point of trying when local support is non-existent. Health centres and jobs are in equally short supply and residents are significantly less healthy than any other part of the population. Children growing up in estates are, because of their location, forced to attend schools that are less-than-mediocre and rarely encouraged to pursue any form of higher education by their teachers, who invariably have zero expectations of the students. In a country where a university degree means everything, it’s no wonder that very few will attempt, let alone qualify, to get one. And of course they are then denigrated for having no ambition.
It is hard to see how else affordable housing could have been provided back in the 1960s and 70s. Britain is an island nation roughly the same size as Kansas in terms of land area. We only have a finite amount of space available for people to live on and in 1965 the population was already close to 55 million. Yet, with all the forethought and planning that supposedly went into the creation of these estates, horrendous mistakes were made. Much-needed community centres were dismissed as old-fashioned, health centres were not built, schools were miles away, public transportation was not provided and there was nowhere for adults to just go for a drink or for children to socialise. The social divisions the estates created were enormous: one estate in Oxford notoriously built a wall in the 1930s to divide the council houses from the privately-owned and the Cutteslowe Wall remained there for 25 years! The physical and emotional isolation the inhabitants (especially non-working women) suffered was crippling. Politicians more interested in scoring points for quantity rather than quality failed to consider proper building methods, decent construction materials and location.
Local councils were financially incentivized to build ever higher tower blocks with no thought given to people’s need for privacy, greenery and fresh air or accessibility. It apparently never occurred to any architect or politician the mind-numbing, soul-destroying, spirit-crushing aspect of having to live in a grey, concrete block 22 storeys high with no garden, no views and no way out. Thousands of concrete monstrosities were thrown up quickly and cheaply, turning many areas into something resembling eastern bloc countries, with design features such as enclosed stairwells, blind alleys and dark carparks which enabled rampant criminality. Built in areas that subsequently suffered appalling unemployment when local industries (mining, steel, ship-building) were shut down, they often they ended up as dumping grounds where councils chose to house drug addicts, the mentally ill and the chronically unemployed whilst those who could afford to move out to private homes did so with alacrity. As tenants were left to deal with ever increasing crime rates, indifference and outright racism from local authorities the frustration and rage boiled over into the catastrophic and tragic riots of Brixton, Toxteth and Broadwater Farm.
Governments since the 1980s have been forced to admit that thousands of housing units will have to be completely demolished and rebuilt. Unfortunately, nobody has the billions of pounds required to do so. Tenants with a vested interest in keeping their homes were initially forced into choosing between keeping their council landlords (and receiving no money for refurbishment) or transferring to a private system that would put the rents up. Some were able to refuse and take over the redesign and rebuild of their blocks but had to wait several years before any work even began. Things have improved immeasurably but there is still the need for social housing in Britain and the stigma for those who can only afford to rent from the council remains ridiculously high. We can only hope that the lessons continue to be learned and mistakes not repeated as redevelopment and reinvestment in these areas continue to grow and the inhabitants empowered with a sense of belonging and pride in their homes.
P.S. I should also add that, in fairness, not every single council estate is as grim and miserable as I and Ms Hanley have described. There are several around the UK that were perfectly fine places to live and grow up and remain so today.
“Council estate:” a phrase that instantly conjures up a myriad of conflicting emotions and opinions amongst the British. Condemned as a failed social housing experiment by a well-meaning Labour government needing to move thousands of people out of appalling slum conditions; turning into places where single mothers, broken homes, juvenile delinquents, the unemployed and drug dealers eke out an existence. OR large areas of urban housing where hundreds of ordinary families live whilst hold down hardworking jobs and raising their children as best they can. The sad truth is, even in the 21st century, a child raised on a council estate is instantly labeled as someone who comes from an area and background that is considered highly suspect. As Hanley states in the Introduction, “Any rich or famous person about whom it’s discovered that they were brought up in a council house, no matter what else distinguishes them, is understood to have something of the Pygmalion about them.”
Hanley (who grew up in one of Britain’s largest council estates and now lives in another) describes in excruciating detail the vicious cycle/self-fulfilling prophecy that so many estates fall victim to: that no matter how high the aspirations of the inhabitants, even local councils and newspapers will describe these areas as shameful and depressing, making those same inhabitants wonder what is the point of trying when local support is non-existent. Health centres and jobs are in equally short supply and residents are significantly less healthy than any other part of the population. Children growing up in estates are, because of their location, forced to attend schools that are less-than-mediocre and rarely encouraged to pursue any form of higher education by their teachers, who invariably have zero expectations of the students. In a country where a university degree means everything, it’s no wonder that very few will attempt, let alone qualify, to get one. And of course they are then denigrated for having no ambition.
It is hard to see how else affordable housing could have been provided back in the 1960s and 70s. Britain is an island nation roughly the same size as Kansas in terms of land area. We only have a finite amount of space available for people to live on and in 1965 the population was already close to 55 million. Yet, with all the forethought and planning that supposedly went into the creation of these estates, horrendous mistakes were made. Much-needed community centres were dismissed as old-fashioned, health centres were not built, schools were miles away, public transportation was not provided and there was nowhere for adults to just go for a drink or for children to socialise. The social divisions the estates created were enormous: one estate in Oxford notoriously built a wall in the 1930s to divide the council houses from the privately-owned and the Cutteslowe Wall remained there for 25 years! The physical and emotional isolation the inhabitants (especially non-working women) suffered was crippling. Politicians more interested in scoring points for quantity rather than quality failed to consider proper building methods, decent construction materials and location.
Local councils were financially incentivized to build ever higher tower blocks with no thought given to people’s need for privacy, greenery and fresh air or accessibility. It apparently never occurred to any architect or politician the mind-numbing, soul-destroying, spirit-crushing aspect of having to live in a grey, concrete block 22 storeys high with no garden, no views and no way out. Thousands of concrete monstrosities were thrown up quickly and cheaply, turning many areas into something resembling eastern bloc countries, with design features such as enclosed stairwells, blind alleys and dark carparks which enabled rampant criminality. Built in areas that subsequently suffered appalling unemployment when local industries (mining, steel, ship-building) were shut down, they often they ended up as dumping grounds where councils chose to house drug addicts, the mentally ill and the chronically unemployed whilst those who could afford to move out to private homes did so with alacrity. As tenants were left to deal with ever increasing crime rates, indifference and outright racism from local authorities the frustration and rage boiled over into the catastrophic and tragic riots of Brixton, Toxteth and Broadwater Farm.
Governments since the 1980s have been forced to admit that thousands of housing units will have to be completely demolished and rebuilt. Unfortunately, nobody has the billions of pounds required to do so. Tenants with a vested interest in keeping their homes were initially forced into choosing between keeping their council landlords (and receiving no money for refurbishment) or transferring to a private system that would put the rents up. Some were able to refuse and take over the redesign and rebuild of their blocks but had to wait several years before any work even began. Things have improved immeasurably but there is still the need for social housing in Britain and the stigma for those who can only afford to rent from the council remains ridiculously high. We can only hope that the lessons continue to be learned and mistakes not repeated as redevelopment and reinvestment in these areas continue to grow and the inhabitants empowered with a sense of belonging and pride in their homes.
P.S. I should also add that, in fairness, not every single council estate is as grim and miserable as I and Ms Hanley have described. There are several around the UK that were perfectly fine places to live and grow up and remain so today.
July 3, 2019
Like much non-fiction at the moment, this book combines the political and the personal. The notes in the back, more in the form of further reading than footnotes, show that the author has read widely, rather than academically. It is also interwoven with the author’s own story, but not just as memoir but also from a present perspective....
I enjoyed this book, particularly the first 3/4 which took a more historical approach. I liked the way that she drew on her own experience, and interwove the personal and political. I admit that the present-day politics of the last chapters of the book largely went over my head, but I could find parallels with our own government’s drive for public/private development of former housing estates which somehow always seems to be short-changing the public system.
For my complete review see
http://residentjudge.com/2019/07/03/e...
I enjoyed this book, particularly the first 3/4 which took a more historical approach. I liked the way that she drew on her own experience, and interwove the personal and political. I admit that the present-day politics of the last chapters of the book largely went over my head, but I could find parallels with our own government’s drive for public/private development of former housing estates which somehow always seems to be short-changing the public system.
For my complete review see
http://residentjudge.com/2019/07/03/e...
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