Lessons from the UK’s Brexit vote: will it prove to be a fork in the road or just the same old cul-de-sac?

In How We Think John Dewey uses the metaphor of a fork in the road to suggest a moment when usual conventions are turned upside down, thought and reflection are prompted and in turn new courses of action identified, “Thinking begins in what may fairly enough be called a forked-road situation, a situation which is ambiguous, which presents a dilemma, which proposes alternatives” (Dewey, 1910, p. 11). There can be little doubt that with the announcement of a 52:48% vote in favour of leaving the European Union (EU) the morning of the 24th June 2016 dawned as a forked-road situation in the UK. It was certainly a situation of enormous collective and individual ambiguity and profound dilemma over what was to be done. The disintegration and reassembly of much of the British political establishment was rapid, but the working through of the implications and the identification of alternative courses of action will remain a work in progress for years to come. In the aftermath of the referendum (re-)thinking is necessary, but how far and to whom do those lessons extend?

Beyond the intrigue of the political drama that ensued, commentary has been dominated by discussion of the social, cultural and geographical divisions manifest in the Brexit voting patterns. While the EU referendum was a very British political event, the undercurrent of disillusionment and disconnection amongst many communities is resonant of debates in other parts of world, most especially exemplified in the concerns which have resulted in the nomination of Donald Trump as the Republican Party candidate for the US Presidential election. (As I write this editorial in early September 2016 whether or not there is to be President Trump is yet to be determined.) Furthermore, as planning practitioners and researchers, the increasingly fractured nature of the relationships between communities in our cities and regions is a matter of widespread concern. But, how should we, as academics and planners, read the mood of communities and their relationships one to another, and what should be done?

Voting preferences in a referendum are complex, and motivations, even for those voting the same way, may be very different and possibly somewhat contradictory. The ‘leave’ vote was certainly about many things. Perhaps the safest generalisation was that it was an anti-vote: anti- the establishment, politicians and bureaucracies, but also notably anti-experts, including academics, and professionals. In the face of a profusion of arguments and statistics – good, bad and indifferent – the statement by Michael Gove, one of the leading politicians advocating for the UK to leave the EU, that “people in this country have had enough of experts”, struck a chord with many. So for academics reflection is necessary not merely as observers of the mood and concerns of communities, but in terms of our own position and contribution. Similarly for policymakers and planning professionals, do the communities we serve believe our actions will improve their well-being? Do they trust us to deliver? Maybe there should be pause for thought as to the relationship or otherwise between the shock and indignation that has echoed through the corridors of British institutions, including universities and town halls, and the social and geographical divides represented in the Brexit voting patterns. If this is truly a forked-road situation, thinking needs to extend beyond ‘academic’ interest, to honest, and potentially uncomfortable, reflection on the lessons to be drawn and, more crucially, the actions to be taken.

Recent detailed analysis of the Brexit referendum voting patterns confirms immediate impressions, suggesting, “a country deeply divided along not only social but also geographical lines” (Joseph Rowntree Foundation (JRF), 2016, p. 17). Poorer households with low incomes and low skills, as well as older and white people, were more likely to vote to leave. The nature of the local employment opportunities had a tendency to accentuate or suppress preferences; hence, wealthier households in areas dominated by low skill employment would be less likely to vote to remain. However, according to the JRF study, the most striking influence on voting patterns was educational attainment, even more significant than income or other personal characteristics, with 70% of those with no qualifications voting to leave and 70% of those with a post-graduate qualification voting to remain. It follows from the relationship between the presence of high skill employment and individuals with higher level qualifications that areas dominated by universities disproportionately voted to remain. A Times Higher Education poll before the referendum indicated that nearly 90% of those working in higher education intended to vote to remain. The power of influences such as education means that historically high levels of EU funding into an area were not associated with a wish to remain in the Union. But beyond the necessarily detached analyses of general trends, are places and people. It is on the ground that the numbers really become meaningful and the lessons most telling. In the region where I live, the headline figure of a marginal vote in favour of leaving the EU (51:49) in the city of Sheffield hides deeply entrenched spatial divisions in voting across the city. More starkly, all of the surrounding districts in the city region voted to leave, in many of those districts seven in ten voters considered leaving the EU to be the right option for the UK. Given such striking local voting patterns, fellow residents might appropriately ask, who is disconnected?

It is no exaggeration to suggest that the result of the Brexit vote was greeted with shock, bewilderment and even horror within the intellectual and professional classes. Such a result was never meant to happen, and that a majority could have come to such a conclusion was unfathomable to many. That the result sanctioned a very few to abuse those ‘others’ they considered un-British (for want of better terminology) was deplorable. But the ‘othering’ social scientists write about, has not just been a feature of the discourse of the ‘leave’ side. In their stunned incomprehension, ‘remainers’ have frequently characterised those voting to leave as “racist”, “stupid” or “ignorant”, and generally all three. By contrast, the ‘remainers’ tend to see themselves as internationalist, cosmopolitan and considered. Such stereotypes are just that, stereotypes. They may provide superficial reassurance that ‘others’ are to blame for one’s woes or offer a sense of moral superiority, but they help not at all in the task of moving forward and building vibrant, flourishing communities.

It is important to recall the strong anti-expert rhetoric that touched a nerve with so many voters. Tellingly, a YouGov poll before the referendum indicated that more than half of potential ‘leave’ voters did not trust the arguments presented by academics on the merits or otherwise of EU membership, with the figure rising to around 60% with respect to economists. Trends in perceptions about the social sciences more broadly mirror the view expressed about economists. There is a presumption that evidence is generated and deployed to back pre-established positions, and therefore arguments lack the authority of independence. Such scepticism (deserved or otherwise) is corrosive, as erosion of trust in the producers of (academic) knowledge gnaws away at a foundational resource of a vibrant democracy.

More generally, this anti-expert sentiment fits with concerns raised for some time about the declining levels of trust and respect in professionals and politicians. In 2002 the philosopher Onora O’Neill drew attention to what she regarded as a “crisis of trust” in public services, and the institutions and people who run them in her Reith lectures, A Question of Trust (O’Neill, 2002). She noted a frequent response to the cynicism of citizens by public institutions was to introduce performance measures and league tables, justified on the basis of delivering transparency and accountability. The period since has seen such metrics grow in number, and their unremitting implementation incorporated into management practice. O’Neill forcefully argued that performance measures more often than not distort priorities and produce perverse outcomes. Furthermore, the more people are told that a public service is “excellent”, while their experience of that service suggests otherwise, the more trust is eroded. There is a tendency for the frequency and extent of the deployment of terms such as “excellent” or “outstanding”, whether for school attainment, health care provision or even academic research, to fly in the face of everyday usage and thereby defy credibility. Not everything can be “excellent”. As O’Neill emphasises, this form of performance review through assertion is not ‘smart’, and can have dangerously delusional implications for service providers who come to believe the rhetoric. It certainly does not provide a meaningful form of accountability. The experiences and feelings represented in the Brexit vote suggest that improved outcomes have to be realised on the ground in people’s lives, not through press releases. Communities and individuals must sense and see that they have the opportunity to flourish and prosper. In the absence of such experience the institutions of the establishment, rightly or wrongly, leave themselves open to challenge.

Perhaps above and beyond anything else, the question the Brexit vote poses to Britain’s establishment institutions is, who benefits from your activities? This is not about metrics and headlines, but the complex, long-term and messy work of achieving real progressive change, which people experience in their everyday lives. It is perhaps to be expected that the two areas of activity with the most internationalist focus, namely the City of London and higher education, were the most ardent advocates of staying in the EU and, perhaps, the most shocked at the result. If I take the area with which I am most familiar, higher education, the free flow of ideas across borders, be that in the form of people (students and academics) or knowledge (most usually publications), lies at the very heart of academic practice. But does it matter who feels the benefit of that endeavour and those international networks?

I am reminded of a conversation I overheard between a community leader and a senior colleague. The focus of the conversation was on the challenges the community faced, and much empathy was expressed, but when the community leader asked, “can ‘the University’ help?” the offer that came forth was, “we could write something together.” The community leader looked quizzical. This is not the first time I have heard such a response to a request for assistance, and is somewhat more constructive than, “we don’t do that type of research, we do world-class research”! Of course, mutual learning (and world-class research) can result from the process of (co-)writing, but for those outside academia the benefit is rarely self-evident. Researching with rather than on communities involves genuine reciprocity and has to deliver for all involved. This means over the long term, not on a “here today, gone tomorrow” basis. Regardless of the intentions of the researchers involved, such short-termism is inherent to project-based research funding, rather than the more mutually beneficial partnership-oriented models associated with approaches such as co-production.¹ As with politicians and other professionals, researchers should be careful, as the non-academic world is far from stupid. Respect and trust have to be earned and proved in the real world. Insufficient attention to the concerns of all communities risks public institutions, including universities, becoming, or being perceived to be, disconnected – fairly or unfairly – seeming to exist in a bubble of their own self-reinforcing privilege. The warning of the Brexit vote is that bubbles can be burst.

Having been exposed to the chilly air of the world outside the bubble, the response of all within public institutions must involve careful listening, honest reflection and action. To return to Dewey’s analogy, this has to be regarded as a forked-road situation, not the cul-de-sac we have for too long travelled, even resurfacing the same track from time to time. Action will be necessary, with a new road to be built and explored. All public institutions consist of bundles of activities, and not everyone needs to be doing everything, or the same thing. However, as a totality, closer attention needs to be given to overall outcomes and the distribution of the resulting benefits. This is unlikely to be addressed adequately by a business-just-about-as-usual approach.

The potential irony of making a case for a fundamental change of direction in the editorial to an academic journal is not lost on me. Journal editors, along with peer reviewers, are generally cast in the role of roadblocks to change within academia. Fellow academics complain that as gatekeepers of academic quality, journal editors shape and determine what is published, and in turn the nature of what is counted as ‘research’, more tellingly ‘excellent’ research. I have written in previous editorials and elsewhere that the planning discipline, with its concerns about professional practice and the well-being of communities, should lead in demonstrating that academic excellence and public benefit are entirely compatible, even mutually reinforcing.² Yet I can honestly say that I do not find our editorial practices at Planning Theory and Practice challenged by new and innovative approaches to academic writing. I would positively welcome our boundaries being tested and given a good prod. What matters is the quality of the argumentation, be that framed through synthesis or analysis, or both; nothing more or less. I would hope to be challenged rather more.

The theme of the Interface section in this issue, edited by Tuna Tasan-Kok, demonstrates that there is a desire to consider how better to bridge the worlds of planning academia and professional practice. A comment by Sandra Oliveira e Costa, a Swedish practitioner, resonates with the preceding discussion,

Practitioners want to have input from the research community, but routine criticism that lacks insight can make collaboration difficult and reduce levels of trust and interest amongst practitioners in the advice offered by academics. (this issue, p. 627)

In common with the other contributors to this Interface, who are based in Turkey, Brazil, Belgium, Israel, the Netherlands and South Africa, all are fully aware of the structural conditions of which they are a part. But as Maarten Desmet, Tim Devos and Seppe de Blust emphasise, their goal is to seek out the “room for manoeuvre” for innovation. What they would like to see from the academic community is a greater willingness to work together on this journey. They are not arguing against the value of critical analysis, but what they are arguing is that critique alone is not enough to achieve progressive change. In many ways critique is the easy bit, more difficult and more important are to nurture and recognise the spaces and moments for change.

The papers in the Articles section explore the constraints and possibilities of planning in a range of policy domains and contexts. Maarten Markus and Federico Savini examine the problems associated with the implementation of policies concerned with climate change in the cities of Amsterdam and Boston. More particularly, they draw lessons from the experience in those two cities to explore what they term implementation deficits. They find that non-compliance can arise from both excessively constraining rules and undue openness resulting from vague policy statements. Their case studies provide a nuanced insight into the ways policy-makers were attempting to grapple with the challenges of non-implementation. Ruth Fincher, Maree Pardy and Kate Shaw also seek to examine policy implementation, but in the context of place-making in Melbourne. Their concern is with the extent to which policies of redevelopment, which seek to incorporate social equity, now often termed ‘place-making’, are realising that goal. The Melbourne experience is not encouraging. However, the paper points to the ways the needs of local low income communities might be better incorporated into urban renewal policies.

The other papers in this issue are all concerned in one way or another with enhancing participatory practices. Inês Campos et al., focus attention on climate change and adaptation in the context of a vulnerable coastal area of Portugal. They adopt a participatory action research approach to develop and assess the merits of a series of scenario building workshops. Their experience indicates the importance of an inclusive and holistic approach (rather than technical and managerial) if effective adaptation is to be achieved. Mhairi Aitken, Claire Haggett and David Rudolph also explore participatory practices, but in the context of onshore wind farm developments in the UK. Their study develops a non-hierarchical conceptual framework to identify the range of participatory practices being utilised. While “awareness raising” and “consultation” dominate they also found evidence of approaches which seek to achieve community “empowerment”.

The final two papers are interested in the role of new technologies in facilitating or otherwise collaborative practices in planning. Robert Goodspeed’s paper seeks to bridge the often distant worlds of planning technologies and urban modelling with participatory practice. Through a series of case studies he suggests that planning practice would benefit from greater interaction and sharing of knowledge and ideas. Riina Lundman’s paper is similarly concerned with the role of technology in participatory practice, but in her case investigates the use of site-specific video in participatory practice in Turku in Finland.

The Comments section takes as its focus the meaning of culture in planning. While the concept of culture is the starting point for the three essays, each of the contributors engages with the subject in quite different ways. Bish Sanyal revisits the idea of culture which framed the volume he edited on Comparative Planning Cultures. Culture in this case is about the national socio-political contexts in which planning systems are located, and the way such cultures shape public policies. In his essay Sanyal considers international developments over the last decade, including increasing levels of migration and the stronger assertion of religious beliefs, or at least the assertion of beliefs in the name of religion. Vanessa Watson, in contrast, is concerned about the growth of an international planning mono-culture. Rather than seeing a diversity of planning cultures, she suggests that due to the dominance of a few architecture and planning consultancies the same built environment is being reproduced from Dubai and Shanghai, through to London, Lagos and Kigali. Simone Abram sees culture from the perspective of anthropology. She argues that planners could gain from the critical insights that arise from interrogating the culture of planning from an outsider’s perspective.

Finally in this issue, the Reviews section includes a discussion of Rachel Weber’s impressive new book on the operation of real estate markets and their role in shaping the redevelopment of Chicago, From Boom to Bubble. How Finance Built the new Chicago.

The contributions to this issue of Planning Theory and Practice, whether by academic or practitioner, all reflect a wish to challenge existing practices, hold them to account and see change. And yet, the story underlying the Brexit vote suggests a disconnection, at the very least between intent and outcomes. From academia’s perspective it might be argued that this does not much matter. It is simply for academics to speak truth to power. But what is the point of speaking truth to power if there is no impact? Knowledge should certainly not be viewed as a commodity, judged narrowly for its utility to existing systems. Independence lies at the heart of the academic endeavour, as it does professional practice. But as the lessons of the Brexit vote indicate, independence is a privilege, and with that privilege comes responsibilities and the expectation of accountability to the wider public good. At the fork in the road, thinking is necessary and choices will need to be made, which must involve the construction and exploration of new roads. The public (and governments) will see through attempts to resurface routes already travelled. For the sake of vital democracies and flourishing communities such reflection and a change of direction must happen.

Heather Campbell
University of Sheffield
[email protected]

Notes

1. See findings of N8/ESRC research programme on the opportunities and challenges of co-producing research (Campbell & Vanderhoven, 2016).

2. See Campbell (2012a, 2012b).