If you think crime is bad in London, visit a deprived small town
While focus is rightly on Sadiq Khan’s appalling crime record in the capital, what is too often missed is why the public feel unsafe outside Britain’s big cities, says Adam Hawksbee
The police station in Eston, a small town near Middlesbrough, is closed to the public. But there are still a few posters on the notice board beside the entrance. One shows a child, probably around twelve, on a dirt bike against a bright red backdrop. It could be an advert for a summer adventure break, but under the image is an ominous reminder: “it is an offence to sell petrol to anyone under the age of 16”.
Across Eston, kids on motorised off-road bikes are terrorising residents. This is part of a crime wave plaguing this corner of Cleveland, where offending rates are more than double the national average. While the attention of the national press is often on Sadiq Khan’s appalling crime record in the capital, what is too often missed is why the public feel unsafe outside Britain’s big cities. And that means we lose sight of the need for local solutions.
For decades, boys in Eston have been bought dirt bikes by their dads to ride around the hills overlooking the town. These same hills were once the area’s great hope – the frenzy of commercial activity after iron was discovered there in the 1850s drew comparisons with the West Coast gold rush.
Today, the same off-road bikes are used to transport drugs. Young men speed up and down new cycle paths and around warren-like streets, terrifying locals and evading police cars. The drivers used to be older teenagers, but they’ve now moved upwards in gangs and passed their responsibilities to younger siblings, some aged just ten or eleven.
One community leader I met in Eston remembers a time when things were better. She told us of a plaque from Mo Mowlam, the area’s former MP, commending the town’s achievement in reducing crime by over half in the New Labour years. What did they do to get such strong results? Investments in enforcement, recruiting and training neighbourhood police officers, and prevention through youth activities targeted at primary-age children. A quarter century later, similar tactics are needed.
Recent research by my think tank, Onward, has highlighted the decline in neighbourhood policing. Despite the government’s success in recruiting 20,000 new officers, neighbourhood teams are still 10 per cent smaller than in 2012. Ranks of supporting officers have been hit even harder: the number of police community support Officers reduced by almost half in the last decade.
So, to prevent local crime, neighbourhood teams need investment. Regular and visible foot patrols can restore confidence among communities, along with a proper offer for young people so they have somewhere productive to go when they’re moved on from a street corner – whether that’s a boxing gym or a media studio.
It’s vital that we have a debate about violent crime in our inner cities. But we shouldn’t forget about the specific, localised challenges in hundreds of Britain’s towns – rural and urban, coastal and postindustrial – that make people feel unsafe. To address these problems, we need to renew neighbourhood teams with local roots. It’ll be down to police officers who understand Eston’s past and know its residents to finally get kids off their bikes.