Saving Scotland's towns

Arthur Bell
The Biggar picture

It began with BRAG in 1993. It might have led, four years on, to a start restoring Scotland's fine ancient burghs, initiated by two sons of neighbouring, and rival, towns. That me, a Brechiner (pop. 7,655), and a 'Gable-endie' from Montrose (pop. 11,440) Rt Hon M. Forsyth, were working together in accord, was about as likely a combination of partners as Lenin and Trotsky.
     BRAG was a roads protest group, set up to protect our little burgh of Biggar from proposed wrecking by a coalition of 'good-doers'. The Scottish Office roads department, Lanarkshire Development Agency, Strathclyde Region, and Clydesdale District Council had combined to 'improve', as they saw it, this delightful wee place. It's one that's still, after another battle, without an ALDI.
     BRAG (Biggar Road Action Group) eventually succeeded in stopping the multi-agency force. This had proposed, with limited 'consultation', to drive an urban freeway along the town's wide medieval High Street. In the process they would have prevented 60% of car parking, and endangered the livelihood of more than 40 small privately owned shops – the economic heart of the community. Apparently their scheme was 'to improve road safety', although no injury-causing accident had been reported for a decade.
     BRAG spun itself off into two further organisations – a business group and a civic society. 'Protest groups' don't often win battles, so we now had three separate, fully constituted organisations, with all kinds of experience on board, involved. After an (independently verified) referendum of citizens produced 19 votes in favour of the planned scheme, and over 2,000 against, came the capitulation. 'If you don't want the money spent in Biggar, then we won't spend it,' said a Strathclyde spokesman.
     It was our luck that the regional and district councils were in their last year, and so BRAG kept up its campaign. We involved more sectors of the community, and got into partnership with the already appointed officials of the new South Lanarkshire Council. We knew they would be wanting some useful 'flagship projects' with which to begin their new role. Plans were drawn up and, as we'd hoped, SLC came good. Within two years we saw the potholed road surfaces and cracked pavements renewed. The unpleasant sodium street lighting was replaced with a stylish new system, ancient closes off the High Street were restored, and some fine 'street art' installed. We even still had – not quite enough – parking spaces. The motto of the burgh is 'Let the deed shaw', and it still does.
     In 1996 I decided to write a paper based on hard experience; not pure political theory from a 'think tank'. I presented it as a policy idea to my old foe Forsyth. He was gracious enough to accept it, and then fast-track it through the normally labyrinthine Scottish Office. It was called 'The Small Towns Initiative'. The ambition was to begin to restore 100 ancient Scots burghs over a decade.
    
As small town boys both Forsyth and I understood the sad dereliction overcoming many of these burghs. We knew of the loss of community and 'place' that the 1974 reform of local government had caused. Further, unemployment and environmental neglect had done great damage socially, to what had been the vital heart of so much of our country. After all, what cared the Dundee or Glasgow 'cooncillors' for places far removed from their wards and their voters? They might have heard of them, but they knew them not. The social souls and economics of the wee toons were alien to their mighty city minds. They were creating 'better tomorrows' in places like Easterhouse.
     The basis of the initiative was simply to let burgh locals decide what their communities needed, through wide debate and discussion; and deep and thorough planning sessions with professional advisers. Their plans would be prioritised, and local trusts would be funded through government and its agencies, to get local agreement, and to manage the changes. The trusts would issue contracts that were small enough to slip through European competition rules, so they could be awarded (if possible) to local tradesmen and small businesses. Normal public sector methods rarely involve such self-employed people as stonemasons or joiners, plumbers or small building businesses. They don't even get on the quotation list, and contracts go to the giants.
     Several important bonuses would come out of this approach. Nobody would get away with shoddy workmanship, as eagle eyes would ensure quality; pride and a sense of ownership of the schemes would be engendered; training of the (often unemployed) youth would be involved; and then there would be the multiple economic benefits.
     Local contractors would pay wages to then be recycled through the shops, garages and other key parts of the small town economies. Businesses would be strengthened, and a host of younger citizens would learn important craft skills, as well as feeling fully involved in their society. The drift to the cities would be slowed down or even stopped, and the improved look of the towns could bring benefits like tourism. After all we have many architectural gems in these burghs: that would attract visitors. Most of them don't appreciate boarded-up shops, burst downpipes that drip down High Street walls, shrubbery poking out of roofs, grotty shop signs, and the many other physical signs of a community in serious decline. All the things that the Scottish Review highlighted so well last week. This initiative and investment in the burghs would bring increased income tax, national insurance, and VAT for government. It wouldn't cost huge sums, and it would pay for itself within a few years. It had the potential to transform much of Scotland that was on a steep downward decline.

So 'Why has it not happened?' I think I hear you cry. Eight months after I had persuaded MF to act, the Tory government was wiped out. The Secretary of State, like all his Scottish colleagues, lost his seat. A four-burgh pilot scheme to improve Alloa and Hawick fell into the less than effective hands of Scottish Enterprise. As alas did the plans for Brechin and Montrose (well we had to try!). S.E. had not a clue as to how to effectively involve the communities, and then of course everything changed. Devolution arrived, and 'The Small Towns Initiative' became a forgotten minor part of history.
     At least one small town here in South Lanarkshire continues to flourish – because its citizens acted with firm resolve. Too often we Scots cry 'Somebody Do something!', but our bureaucratic system denies initiative. I believe it will only be by huge bootstrap efforts, and good local leadership, that we can rescue those once proud burghs from their continued decline. Dear Reader, if I may borrow from JFK: 'Ask not what your burgh can do for you, ask what you can do for your burgh'.

Arthur J A Bell is Chairman of New Lanark Trust, and Biggar Civic Society