Last week the National Office of Statistics published its General Household Survey, a huge report charting how lifestyles and society in Britain have changed over the past 40 years. It covered everything from how much we smoke and drink to what we buy – but what most interested us were the findings about the way we live, which were pretty dramatic.
Since the 1970s, as you may have read, the number of people living alone has more than doubled. How, we wondered, might this have affected our sense of community? Do we – as the Sun’s headline had it – really live in ‘Isolate Britain’?
Also just out is Ken Loach’s new cinema documentary, Spirit of 45, a celebration of the period just after the Second World War when, as Loach presents it, society worked together for the public good and community was key. The film looks at how this “spirit” got dismantled and makes a case for reinstating it… but is that possible? Is our sense of community really even in tatters – and, with so many thriving online communities, does that kind of spirit even matter to people anymore? We hit the local streets to find out…
Matt Whipp, general manager at the Prince Regent pub in Herne Hill
“I moved down to Herne Hill 18 months ago from Liverpool and find the community spirit here very strong. In fact, it’s one of the things that drew me to the place.
We get a lot of people coming in here on their own. Friendly places like us are more important than ever because there aren’t a lot about; if you are made to feel welcome to come in and read the paper all day, you’ll come back.
Around here you have the other pubs – the Florence, the Half Moon, the Commercial – but what I love about the Regent is that we get the broadest demographic range. There’ll be the trendy types from Shoreditch, having a drink before they go into Brixton, and they’ll be sitting next to a group of pensioners. The pub’s been here around 200 years, and some of our regulars look like they were here on the opening night. A new group of local 18-year-olds recently started coming in and one said to me: ‘What we love is that this place isn’t trying to be anything, and that there’s a real mix of people.’ And that’s what we like.”
Maria Ferreres, full-time mother, Stockwell
“We moved here from Spain in 2010 and I don’t feel isolated at all here even though we didn’t know anyone when we arrived. We came to live in London because the parish priest at the local Catholic church here, Our Lady of the Rosary, near Max Roach Park, was inviting Catholic families to come and settle in the area and help the Church; there aren’t that many Catholic churches in London.
I’d like to be more involved in community activities, but with five small children I’m too busy at home. The Church is my main community – it’s how I know the friends we have here. If it wasn’t for all these people, maybe we wouldn’t have moved here. But also I know our neighbours and know that if I needed something I could knock on someone’s door.”
Keith Bucknor, reggae musician, Brixton
“I’ve lived in Brixton for about 30 years; I’m an old Brixtonian man.
I live alone but I don’t feel alone. I live with my dog and my cat; dog-walking every day you meet people, and I know my neighbours and have old friends living nearby. Do I feel part of a community? Yes, very much so. I think Brixton is special in that way, it is neighbourly. Our reggae band The Frontliners puts on concerts for free in Brockwell Park in the summer, and we play at a centre in Effra Road that looks after people with mental health issues.
Brixton has changed dramatically over the years I’ve lived here and I think it’s changed for the better. It’s not like in the 80s when it was violent; now lots of different nations have come here and it feels like black, Asian and white are uniting and coming together, there’s less fighting – and that’s what we really want.”
Maggie Magee, cook and caterer, Camberwell
“Our street in Camberwell is pretty magic, I think. I’m definitely part of a community – I have about six sets of neighbours’ keys and we all help each other out, taking in parcels and feeding each other’s cats. There’s one neighbour who’s having a really hard time and has found herself very much on her own: all of us keep an eye on her try to make sure she and her kids have got enough to eat. Other neighbours have been through break-ups too, since we’ve lived here – which is nearly 18 years in this house, and another 12 nearby – but I don’t think there’s a sense of isolation in this street. That neighbourly-ness definitely makes me feel very secure living here.
It’s not just our street though, I think it’s to do with Camberwell generally. There are lots of students, with the art college, and nurses from King’s, which gives the place a friendly aspect, as well as a lot of pubs in close proximity. There are the rich people on Camberwell Grove, too, but the fact it’s such a mixed area is what does it.”
Jon Harle, a programme manager in international higher education, Loughborough Junction
“I don’t really feel part of a local community at all. But I don’t think that’s down to living alone or not – I don’t – just down to London being such a transitory place. And also because I haven’t really tried.
When I first moved to London after university, nearly eight years ago, I had no intention of staying. I didn’t think I’d survive more than six months here – I’m from Skipton in Yorkshire, which is tiny in comparison and I imagined London would destroy me. But I really like this area and that’s why I’ve stayed for so many years – it’s a corner of London I’ve always enjoyed living in, and which I’ve probably felt a bit more attached to at different times.
For a while, quite a few of my friends were moving around here and so that formed a network… but as they have moved on, that’s vanished. It’s an expensive place to settle down or buy, so they’ve mostly moved further out because none of them have roots here. I think if I was here during the weekdays I would feel more rooted to the area, but I go to work in town and come home late and often go out for drinks in central London rather than having a local pub I always go to. In a way, I could be living anywhere.”
Words and pictures: Kate Burt
