The Tepid Take

I have a peculiar history when it comes to being a ‘road user’. I actually had my first go in the drivers’ seat of my mum’s Smart 4x4 before I learnt to ride a bike: aged 16, an embarrassing race against time in preparation for a school trip to Rendlesham Forest. The go in the car happened just a few months prior, in a field just opposite where I learnt to cycle. Of course, I got the hang of the bike a bit quicker than the car; I would be 19 before I could drive with a full license. But then cycling was metaphorically resigned to the back seat, to cycle hire romps and Santander Cycles. Meanwhile, I drove up the various arterial spines of the UK and, clips in multi-story car parks aside, it was all very comfortable. I took up cycling again last summer as a distraction, and, finally riding on routes I’d rode to death in the car, I realised the difference. For the first time in years, I was afraid to use the road. Why? Cycling has been, for the best part of the last century , a ni

This piece was originally published in CityMetric in 2018. King’s Cross Central is one of the larger re-development projects currently underway in in central London. A decade in, the area now plays host to the Guardian’s London offices, the Central St. Martin’s art school and an obnoxiously large branch of Waitrose. Only last month, indeed, King’s Cross Central played host to the greatest share of events for the Lumiere light festival. All very prestigious – enough, indeed, to earn the area a shiny new postcode, N1C. What it hasn’t earned it is a new tube station. Okay, there’s King’s Cross St. Pancras itself, at the area’s southern tip, but the northern end of the development zone is as much as 1km from there. And the rebranding of Nine Elms and Battersea to house the new American Embassy , remember, merited the development of two additional stops and an entirely new branch of the Northern Line. The partnership behind King’s Cross Central presumably thought that the existing – admit

The Guardian changed its print edition to a tabloid format last month. Incidentally, I was on a placement there the very day the change came into effect. That meant navigating through a packed office, an extensive re-orientation for staff, and, pleasingly, free on-brand souvenirs. Beyond the Who Moved My Cheese -esque atmosphere, I wanted to know what exactly this change meant for the Guardian, why it had to be taken (although I think we all had an inkling) and how on earth journalism seems to remain so inelastic in the face of so many challenges. I suppose the long and short of it is that, well, it doesn’t. Running a newspaper, like running any other company, necessitates making a profit – at least in the long run. How can an organisation that holds itself to such (supposedly) high ethical and moral standards succeed in this sort of environment? Let’s find out. Guardian News and Media, abbreviated to GNM, the company responsible not only for the Guardian but the Observer, Guardi