Beware the security guard state

 By Flickr user fotdmike

You probably didn't hear about it, but a couple of weeks ago, West London’s  shiny new Westfield  Shopping centre came under attack. By middle-aged librarians. A trio of them in fact, handing out leaflets about cuts to the local library service. Thankfully, Westfield’s crack team of security guards were on hand, to eject the offenders before shoppers could be subject to the inconvenience of learning about the impact that spending cuts are having on their services.

 Five security guards, to intimidate and eject three public servant who were fighting (very politely) for their jobs – it would be funny if it wasn’t so sinister. But it’s a scene that’s likely to be repeated up and down the UK in the coming months. As the cuts start to bite, more and more people will take to the streets to try and rally support for saving their local services. And many of them will find bomber-jacketed security guards moving them along. That’s why I’d urge everyone to support People and Planet’s petition to demand the right to protest in public spaces.

Over the last two decades, more and more of Britain’s public spaces have become security guard states, run by private companies who have little interest in civil liberties and less public accountability. It began with London’s Canary Wharf, a phalanx of skyscrapers which are home to some of the world’s largest banks, built on top of one of London’s most deprived communities. Every square inch of the development – from the gleaming shopping malls to the streets and pavements – is privately managed. The area is patrolled by security guards whose uniforms are eerily similar to London’s armed police. Meanwhile, just a few hundred metres away in areas like Poplar or Limehouse, dilapidated social housing is left to crumble.

Towns and cities all over the UK have looked to follow Canary Wharf’s example. As Anna Minton, whose book Ground Control brought many of these issues to public attention reports:

Liverpool One, which spans 34 streets in the heart of Liverpool, is effectively owned by the Duke of Westminster's property company, Grosvenor, which leased the entire site, including streets and public places, from the council for 250 years. Cabot Circus in Bristol, Highcross in Leicester and what promises to be the biggest of all, Stratford City in London, are all owned and run by property companies.

These clone-town centres, lined with chain stores which suck money out of their communities, have replaced our old town squares, markets and public spaces as the places that we go to take part in social life. But unlike our public spaces, with their long and honourable histories of politics and protest, these new spaces are for only two things. If you’re not there to make money or spend money, you are likely to be asked to leave.

Ironically, for places so riddled with CCTV, photography seems to be effectively outlawed in many of these security guard states.  Start snapping away in Canary Wharf or Liverpool One and you’re likely to attract the attention of the quasi-legal muscle who are charged with keeping the peace. Refuse to stop, or worse still question their authority as Guardian journalist Paul Lewis did and you may find yourself being question by policy under terrorism legislation (I experienced this first-hand when I tried to take a souvenir photo of the soon to be removed Lehman Brothers sign in Canary Wharf in October 2008).

These security guard states, these little Singapores which are taking over so many of our town and city centres, are places where civil liberties are irrelevant and a uniform demands complete obedience. Unless we can reclaim the principle that public spaces are spaces for all kinds of public life, not just the ones which can turn a profit, we may soon find that even the politest forms of protest are beyond our reach.

You can sign the petition to defend the right to protest at http://www.38degrees.org.uk/page/s/right-to-campaign-in-public