In the first in a series of blogs reflecting on our ‘Where People Meet’ report, Matt Leach, Commissioner on the Independent Commission on Neighbourhoods, Interim CEO at the Building Centre and previous CEO of Local Trust, shares his thoughts about the importance of community buildings and the value of the New Local research.
Every so often, a report comes along that doesn’t just confirm what you already suspected, but gives it new shape, new language, and new weight. Bringing together insight that resonates with what you’ve been seeing yourself, and saying things you feel need to be said. ‘Where People Meet’ is one of those reports.
For the last six months, I’ve been doing a lot of travelling. More so, even, than during my time as Chief Executive of Local Trust. With Hilary Armstrong, David Halpern and other members of the Independent Commission on Neighbourhoods, I’ve been around the country, spending a lot of time in some of our most deprived communities and listening to the people who live there.
Often on the edge of post-industrial towns and cities, these are places that were once thriving. But when you listen to residents of those neighbourhoods – places like the Warwick Estate in Knottingley or Woodhouse Close in Bishop Auckland – you hear common stories.
Not just of industrial and economic decline, but also of the loss of the local institutions that shaped and helped build those communities. The shared workplaces, trade unions, clubs, pubs and other gathering places that defined identity, fostered trust and shared social norms and, often, provided opportunities for mutual support when people most needed it. And, often, the loss of that shared social life that existed in those communities is as mourned as much as the traditional industries that once used to power local economies.
These are places that have been too often ignored by decision-makers. Economic policies haven’t delivered for them. And (with the exception of the National Lottery-funded Big Local programme) the sorts of neighbourhood-based investment that might provide local people with the tools to help local areas deal with the aftermath of industrial decline have been off the political agenda since the days of the National Strategy for Neighbourhood Renewal and New Deal for Communities. People in those places are often angry and frustrated at the extent to which the system has let both them and their wider communities down, and alienated from a political system that too often has failed to speak to the challenges they face.
It’s why this new report from New Local for the Rayne Trust is such an important piece of work. On the surface, it’s about cafés, libraries, community centres and wellbeing hubs. But in fact, it’s about something deeper – the everyday infrastructure that every community needs, providing the connections and relationships that make us human. The places where we bump into neighbours, share a story, ask for help, or just feel seen.
For the Independent Commission on Neighbourhoods – whose first report, Think Neighbourhoods, we launched earlier this year, and whose second, a Green Paper for Neighbourhoods, is due out on 14 May – it couldn’t feel more timely.
If there is a shared message from both reports, it is this: place matters. And not in some abstract planning-policy way, but in the deeply personal, lived-in sense. People value and remember the feel of a street. The warmth of a community hall. The small kindness of a familiar face at the bus stop. They recognise the importance of having somewhere where you can get an arm around the shoulder when times are tough.
These aren’t soft extras – they’re the building blocks of strong, healthy, resilient communities. And in neighbourhoods that have seen local economies hollowed out and the stripping away of other assets, they can be more than critically important lifelines for people living in them. Not “nice to haves.” Not add-ons. But essential – the connective tissue of community life.
People need places where they feel they belong. Where trust builds, ideas spark, and informal care happens. So, when ‘Where People Meet’ walks us through the history of place-based policy from model villages and garden cities to new towns and regeneration programmes, and the importance of community spaces to all of them, it’s doing more than offering a tour of the past. It’s issuing a challenge: is current policy paying enough attention now to these spaces? Are we investing in them? Protecting them? Designing for them? Too often, the answer is no.
This stuff can struggle to find its space in the arid world of fiscal responsibility and austerity-driven spending rounds. It can be challenging to put a number on a place that makes someone feel welcome. Or on a youth centre where someone finds the support and courage to fulfil their potential. Whilst work for the Commission by Frontier Economics suggests that the case for community-focused regeneration has been woefully undervalued by policy makers and decision makers in recent years, shifting Treasury officials towards an appreciation of the value of social infrastructure alongside more traditional forms of infrastructure spending can feel a thankless task.
But ‘Where We Meet’ definitely offers grounds for hope, nevertheless. It’s full of examples of what’s possible when we trust people, invest in place, and give space for connection. They show that there’s no shortage of creativity, commitment or care in our communities. And it offers a vision for the future that’s refreshingly grounded. Not utopian. Not flashy. But deeply real.
A vision where local people shape their own spaces. Where parks and cafés and community halls aren’t afterthoughts, but priorities. Where neighbourhoods are seen not just as delivery zones, but as places of belonging, care and change.