Sam Jordison: ‘Crap Towns’ infamy is a sign of will to change for the better

To deal with the concrete problems first of all. There’s a 15-acre building site right in the middle of the town. Or maybe I should call it a “non-building site”, since no work has been done in this giant empty space for almost a decade, after it was first cleared to make way for a giant Westfield shopping centre. You probably already know that locals call it Wastefield.

Elsewhere, Bradford presents a sad story of deprivation, neglect, congestion, poor educational opportunities and crime. The town currently seems to end up at the wrong end of just about every lifestyle and well-being survey on offer. It’s even got the worst infant mortality rates in England, and the highest birth rates. There has even been a recent spate of horrible new stories about the neglect of babies.

Given all this depressing information, it probably won’t surprise you to learn that Bradford came second in my book Crap Towns Returns, a survey of the worst places to live in the UK. What might surprise, you, however is that I see inclusion in the book as a source of hope for the town’s future.

The people who wrote to me didn’t just write in to criticise the place or to make funny jokes, although they did do both, very effectively.

They wrote in because they wanted to bring about change. They love their city and they want – in the words of one correspondent – “to shame the directionless City Hall into doing something positive”. They are desperate, as another said, “rouse the town into action”. They are determined to start a conversation about how to fix Bradford. That’s now happening – and if enough people listen – there’s a good chance that things may change.

Of course, pointing out what’s wrong in a town is far easier than fixing it. The first thing every outsider like me wants to know is why there’s a giant hole in the middle of the city centre? And why anyone thinks building a giant Westfield could benefit the town anyway? Will it really rival Leeds? Will having a large number of chain stores in the city centre really generate income for the town? Or will it, as more often happens, leach money out of the local economy? Wouldn’t it be better just to forget about the whole thing and give the space back to the people of Bradford?

Given the legal and contractual tangles involved, that latter idea is sadly almost certainly impossible to realise.

But there are areas where I can at least point out what Bradford does still have to offer. Indeed, one of the most enraging things about the current state (emphasis on state) of the city is that it has been so magnificent in the past and that it so clearly has the potential to be great again. In spite of everything. 

The city may have lost The Swan Arcade and Rawson Hall (thanks to typically bad panning decisions), but there are still plenty of Victorian splendours to cling on to, spruce up and take pride in. There are also magnificent gems from the 20th century. It might be covered in scaffolding at the moment, but the Bradford Odeon is a wonderful example of early 20th century art-deco architecture.

This is last remaining 1930s super-cinema in the UK, and a veritable temple of film; unique and gorgeous. If buildings like this can be restored to their former glory (and I really mean glory), Bradford will have even more world class attractions to go alongside Saltaire and the National Media Museum.

The subject of the Odeon, meanwhile, brings me back to the city’s other great asset – the local people who want to change things. This building has been under threat of demolition for the last ten years, but a brilliant local campaign has kept away the wrecking ball.

When it was declared that “virtually nothing” of the building remained apart from its “decaying outer shell”, local urban explorers promptly entered the building and posted dozens of photographs of its  surprisingly well-preserved interior. 

In 2007, thousands of other local activists even surrounded the building in a “hug” based protest to show how much it was loved. Ever since, locals have been taking the fight to the powers that be, declaring enough is enough and putting forward genuinely thoughtful and impressive suggestions for keeping this lovely building going into the 21st century. I’ve seen similar campaigns in other towns around the country and they’re nearly always the harbingers of better things to come.

Ten years ago, I was inspired to put together the first volume of Crap Towns by the terrible condition of Morecambe, the seaside annex of my home town of Lancaster. Back then, everything was going wrong. The council had just wasted millions of pounds trying to establish a Mr Blobby-themed Crinkly Bottom Theme Park in town. Most of the town’s attractions hunched empty and unused on the wind-swept sea front. The Midland Hotel, a stunning art-deco edifice was sinking back into the sea.

All its windows were smashed, and once when I visited, I found human faeces near the entrance – complete with soiled bar towel. It seemed to sum up everything that had gone wrong. 

But since that time, the town has fought back. A grass roots organisation similar to those that have worked so hard on the Bradford Odeon has successfully rescued and restored the Winter Gardens.  Perhaps most significantly for Bradford, Morecambe’s own art-deco gem, the Midland Hotel, was fixed up by Urban Splash and has now become a world class tourist attraction. Lately, small enterprising vintage businesses have opened up on the seafront. Other shops have started taking pride in their wonderfully old-fashioned appearance. Former no-go areas are starting to feel safe and welcoming. 

Of course, there are still problems in Morecambe and I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t been struggle. A lot of people have had to work very hard and it’s also taken a lot of hard cash. But the fact remains that every time I go back to Morecambe, it seems brighter and better. Plenty of other people are also starting to visit again, and, most importantly, locals are realising that they can and should be proud. And if that can happen in Morecambe, Lancashire, surely you can pull off the same trick in Bradford, Yorkshire?

*Sam Jordison is the co-author of Crap Towns Returns (Quercus, £10) out now.