Beware the rise of the metro mayor

Voters across the UK are heading to the polls today. No, they aren’t casting their votes in the snap general election which has stifled all other political debate since it was announced. Nor are they taking part in—heaven forbid—a second EU referendum. Instead, they are choosing their representatives in local government.

Barring any more of Nigel Farage’s “political earthquakes,” these elections are typically routine affairs—an opportunity to punish or reward the government of the day, or perhaps to tackle local issues on the smallest scale. This time around, though, there will be an extra question on the ballot paper for many voters in England: who would they like to have as their regional mayor? Greater Manchester, Liverpool, the Tees Valley, Cambridge and Peterborough, the West Midlands and the West of England will all be electing “metro mayors” for the first time, as part of the government’s ongoing push for regional devolution.

That may sound like a lot of new mayors to introduce all at once, but it’s actually far smaller in scale than the government originally intended. For example, the devolution deal for Cambridge and Peterborough is the remnant of a much bigger plan for a combined authority representing the whole of East Anglia; a plan which was ultimately blocked by two of the constituent councils. Potential deals for Cumbria, Hampshire and a number of other regions are also on the rocks. Indeed, the Institute for Public Policy Research reports that progress on these devolution deals has “stalled” in many parts of England. Where deals have gone ahead, compromises abound.

Despite these problems with the roll-out, there seems to be a general consensus among both the Westminster parties and the public that regional devolution is much needed, apparently inspired by the relative success of the London mayoralty. The Institute of Economic Affair reports that the UK has long lagged behind other developed countries in this regard, with the most centralised model of government of any G7 nation. Furthermore, voters in the regions—particularly those further removed from London—have long felt that the government does not listen to them, and that their views are not sufficiently represented by their MPs. High-handed projects such as HS2 have been particularly effective in galvanising regional resentment towards Westminster.

To tackle this growing crisis of legitimacy, the government is offering each of the metro regions “bespoke devolution deals,” fairer funding reviews, and a move over the next three years towards the retention of 100 per cent of the business rates collected within their boundaries. Greater powers over education, housing, transport, health and social care are also on the table, and the return of further decision-making powers from the EU means that even more devolution may soon be on offer too. The government certainly hinted as much in its recent white paper, declaring Brexit “an opportunity to […] ensure power sits closer to the people of the UK than ever before.” With so much up for grabs, it’s easy to see why there is an appetite for these devolution deals to go ahead, even if some regions have experienced difficulties. What’s not to love?

Well, quite a lot really. Not only will the new regional groupings scythe through sensitive issues of regional identity—it takes a braver man than me to lump Bristol, Bath, North East Somerset and South Gloucestershire together and declare it “the West of England”—they will also add another layer of political wrangling and bureaucracy to the already fraught decision-making process at a local level.

Because each deal is “bespoke,” and because the many local authorities involved are finding it rather difficult to agree on terms, the outcomes vary wildly too. The West Midlands, for example, is set to receive a £1.1bn 30-year investment fund from the government, compared to just £450m for the Tees Valley. Unlike any of his or her counterparts elsewhere, the new mayor for Greater Manchester will be handed control of the region’s £6bn integrated health and social care budget.

This ad-hoc approach does not bode well. The underlying principle may well be to create equity across the country by enabling smarter and more targeted regional spending, but with different regions getting very different powers, equity is not exactly likely. Instead, we can expect to hear a lot more of the phrase “postcode lottery.” Some regions may find themselves hamstrung by a lack of power in certain policy areas, whereas others risk being overwhelmed by the extent of their newfound freedom. Policy in key areas such as education, health and social care could soon diverge at a regional level, potentially worsening issues of inequality and access to services across the country as a whole.

There is plenty of scope for other problems too. If the fiasco surrounding Surrey County Council, its proposed council tax referendum and the government’s alleged “sweetheart deal” taught us anything, it’s that handling local government fairly is far from easy. Imagine how much worse things could get if an untested political newcomer ends up representing a cash-strapped region as mayor, or if a Labour mayor for the likes of Liverpool or Greater Manchester becomes entrenched in a protracted row with the Conservative national government.

Furthermore, the introduction of the metro mayors will not immediately solve the question of the government’s regional legitimacy. Turnout for the Police and Crime Commissioner elections hit an all-time high of 26 per cent last year. If the mayoral elections today see similarly dismal levels of engagement, they can hardly be said to have solved the problem of underrepresented regional views. In reality, that problem is a wider one—a disengagement with democracy—which will not be remedied by simply giving people more things to vote for.

Striving towards an accessible, bottom-up structure for local and regional government is certainly not to be sniffed at. The issue, however, is that the system which we are now entering into is little more than a messy, poorly thought-out hodgepodge; a sticking plaster on a gaping wound of a problem. When it is not entirely clear what powers the UK government itself will have in ten years’ time, how can we be expected to start a significant shake-up of regional government? That way madness lies.