From the outside in
The periphery is where it's at
London has been my home for over 17 years now. Settling in wasn’t easy. After super laid-back Amsterdam, I found the city tough and the competitive agency culture alienating. Maintaining friendships suddenly involved long commutes and planning ahead. Still, living here was exciting. London at that time felt like raw, experimental and progressive.
Today I question if this is still the case. Obviously I am older now, I have two kids, and my priorities have shifted with that. But culture has shifted massively, too. A lot of what is considered popular culture is now shaped online. We spend an astonishing seven hours of our day online. Not only is there too much going on, we also know about everything that’s going on. It is causing extreme hype cycles (or the end of them?) and paralyses us. Constantly having to make decisions (about what you’re prepared to miss out on) is exhausting.
Being extremely online is only part of the story though. The physical reality of cities is pretty intense, too. London, like other megacities, has become overcrowded and oversaturated. There is too much of everything – people, restaurants, shops, events. (And cafes. Especially cafes. Have we reached peak coffee yet?) The idea of continuous growth is embedded in the city more than anywhere else. People’s outlook is shaped by capitalism. We expect our salaries to grow, to climb the career ladder, and our living situation to improve. This for sure, is no longer the case. Home ownership is increasingly out of reach, and wages are growing at a much slower rate. I see more and more people in London at the top of their game (what is success though? A topic for another post) unable to sustain themselves. They work all the time or they cannot make ends meet. Or both. I wonder at what point the financial, physical and mental cost of living in a global metropolis becomes too high?
A toxic cocktail of extreme economic pressure and overstimulation is causing anxiety levels to spiral out of control. According to a study by King’s College London, cities increase your risk of depression, anxiety and psychosis. And that’s a study from 2019. Today, we’re living in a state of permacrisis. It’s just one crisis unfolding after the other, in fact multiple crises at once, creating an impending sense of doom that is difficult to escape. Burnout and anxiety disorders have become so normalised that we now need wellbeing officers and mental health coaches in the workplace. While I am all for removing the stigma around mental health and making it easier for people to access support, are we trying to solve the wrong problem? It’s the system that needs fixing, not the people.
The crazy speed of city life doesn’t leave room to question any of it, which is ironic. Didn’t we move here to get the best education, meet the most interesting people, get a role at the hottest company in order to push culture forward? To make a difference? If you’re barely surviving, there’s no room for any of that. Sure, sometimes frustration can be a legitimate vehicle for progress, but long-term exhaustion and anxiety absolutely kills creativity.
Existing in this constant fight-or-flight mode completely disconnects us from our intuition. There is no room to play, to experiment, and to imagine alternatives.
We can’t keep going like this. Enormous amounts of imagination and creativity are needed to navigate the challenges coming at us fast. But many of us just don’t have the capacity. If 2020 was the year of online mass mobilisation and the rise of activism, we’re now in an era of mere self-preservation, with people’s most pressing priorities (understandably) revolving around their immediate problems.
That’s why I think the pendulum has swung. Megacities are nice places for rich people to spend their wealth. They are shaped by extreme commerce and competition. There’s no room for error (too expensive), no one is taking any risks, resulting in a bland soup of urban monoculture. In fact, designers are now ‘demanding interestingness’ in a campaign to humanise our built environment. Interesting.
So where are new ideas formed then? Where does culture evolve? What are the places that do allow us to experiment, and dream up alternatives?
My bet is on the periphery, not the centres. Small places – from remote rural areas and villages to smaller cities – have the potential to form new hubs for people to create free from urban constraints. In the same way that the online world is decentralising and fragmenting into ever more niche communities, power and influence is moving away from the megacities. I’m not suggesting they won’t be important any more, but they’re losing their monopoly. Creatives leave first, and 'knowledge workers' follow soon after.
As we’re entering a golden age of remote working, people are rightly taking advantage of this shift. If the cost of living becomes more manageable again, we don’t have to spend every waking hour hustling. There is more time and space to pursue interests beyond work, get involved in local community projects or just rest a bit more (how radical!).
This will bring economic changes as well. It is down to regional governing bodies to manage the influx of new people and capital, allowing for the regeneration that is needed without displacing local communities. How might we find a better balance between urban and rural, centre and periphery?
When cities can no longer provide the very basic conditions for humans to thrive, isn’t it time to question the narrative of unstoppable urbanisation?
Leaving the city is not possible (or even desirable) for everyone, of course, but it might be a sensible move to protect our creativity and rebuild the capacity to imagine alternative futures beyond our immediate needs.
Do I still like living in London? I do. Only because I am in a comfortable enough position to enjoy what the city has to offer without killing myself working for it. But progressive culture? That will emerge elsewhere.
Some things I’ve enjoyed recently:
Liv Little on creativity, loss and grounding herself by the sea
On this podcast the founder of legendary gal-dem magazine (and city quitter) talks about London, mental health and her new life by the Kent coast
I stumbled across this walking around Brixton with a friend (yeah London can be amazing ; ) It’s a pop up exhibition featuring participatory art projects that help us understand each other and explore our shared humanity. I loved the ‘A Mile in My Shoes’ project where visitors are invited to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. You literally put on their shoes while listening to their story via headphones. I listened to the stories of a sex worker and a refugee turned politician. Very moving.
The dreamy, sun-drenched photography of Colin Dodgson is a good tonic for the colder, greyer months ahead
Gosh, I cant tell you how much your book changed how I think about life, thank you ❤️
What is “gal-dem”? Demographic of women?