London is not a 24/7 city. Does it even need to be?

Eight years ago, Amy Lamé was appointed as London’s Night Czar, a newly-created role which aimed to champion the capital’s nightlife and ensure that it “thrives as a 24-hour city”. But it seems today that she fulfils a different function: she is a folk devil, a lightning rod which exists to absorb resentment about London’s cultural decline. It’s hard to confront the seemingly unassailable power of the city’s property developers, much easier to lay the blame on an American woman with cat-eye glasses and a kooky haircut who – as her staunchest defenders are especially likely to protest – has no real power. 

Pubs and clubs have been decimated during Lamé’s tenure, but she continues to excel in the role of sacrificial lamb: last week, she inspired a fresh wave of mockery after London mayor Sadiq Khan quote-tweeted an interview she did with the BBC, claiming that “London is leading the world in its 24-hour policy other global cities looking to us for inspiration.” Even though Lamé didn’t say this herself, she took the majority of the flak – tough gig! The claim is obviously untrue, and it never has been: London has always been a city that sleeps perfectly fine, thank you very much. In the early 2000s, Labour famously promised a “continental cafe-style drinking culture” by loosening Britain’s alcohol licensing laws – before that point, the standard pub closing time was 11pm or even earlier. While we are now witnessing a downward trend, London has never been an especially hospitable city for late-night revellers.

Following Lamé’s interview, people on Twitter began sharing harrowing stories of nights curtailed by a lack of options, of desperate hours spent wandering through Holborn in search of a Wagamama. I have been in that position; I know all too well the bitter disappointment of hearing the bell for last orders at 9pm. But if we’re arguing that London would be better as a 24-hour city, we should really ask: better for who?

The service industry, like the night-time economy in general, is disproportionately reliant on low-paid migrant workers, who often bear a heavy cost. “Nightworkers spend long hours commuting at night, experience the lack of safety that darkness instils, endure sleepless days and nights, lack access to day services and suffer social isolation from mainstream society, which normally functions in the daytime when nightworkers need to sleep,” writes academic Julius-Cezar MacQuarie in his book, Invisible Migrant Nightworkers in 24/7 London. Not only does working at night frequently make your life more lonely and precarious, there are serious physical health risks attached, from cardiovascular problems to digestive issues. If London truly became a 24/7 city, it would inevitably be more exploitative than it already is – I’m not sure that my right to enjoy a fifth pint or a sit-down meal at any hour is a worthwhile trade-off.

We could stand to be more sceptical of the 24-hour city as a worthy aspiration, however much we enjoy staying out late. In his book, 24/7: Late Capitalism and the End of Sleep, Jonathan Crary argues that a defining feature of contemporary capitalism is an expansion of the time we spend awake, both working and consuming, and the collapsing of the boundaries “between day and night, between light and dark, and between action and response”. The push for a 24/7 society, according to this view, is really about squeezing as much profit out of us as possible, and depriving us of the rest we need in service of economic growth. 

“Nightworkers spend long hours commuting at night, experience the lack of safety that darkness instils, endure sleepless days and nights, lack access to day services and suffer social isolation from mainstream society” – Julius-Cezar MacQuarie

Crary’s argument is mostly concerned with new digital technologies, and while capitalism doesn’t “want” any one thing, today it seems to favour activities which can be carried out at home, like streaming, scrolling, ordering takeaways and shopping online. Similarly, the property market is a far more significant driving force in today’s urban economies than the leisure sector – just about any building in London will be more profitable as a residence than as a bar or a club, which explains a lot. For the police and local authorities, meanwhile, nightlife is too messy, too disruptive to be worthy of cultivation. The proof is in the pudding: it’s observably true that modern capitalism has not been kind to London’s pubs, bars and clubs.

Still, I feel uncomfortable in demanding that a precarious, badly paid workforce be on hand to serve me treats, whatever the time, or in complaining that the free market is being stifled by government regulations – I get where they’re coming from, but these are right-wing, libertarian arguments. If London’s cultural vitality is being diminished by capitalism, can more capitalism – and a more unfettered and unrestrained kind, at that – really be the answer?

Part of the problem is that when there’s nothing to do in today’s London, there’s really nothing to do. As a result of the housing crisis, young people have far less choice about where they live (you tend to take whatever you can get), which means that it’s more difficult than it was even five years ago to cluster together in the same area as your friends. If you get chucked out of a pub in central London at 10pm and want to keep the night going, you might face an hour’s travel in the wrong direction just to have a few cans in someone’s living room (if they even have one – not every renter is afforded that luxury.) There have always been external restrictions on how people have fun, but these kinds of spontaneous workarounds are now more hampered than ever. 

I think that nightlife is important, and that its erosion is a depressing problem which can and should be solved through political interventions. The current system clearly isn’t working. It’s also worth noting that overly strict licensing laws can be bad for workers, too – it’s difficult to get the hours you need when the venue you work at is only allowed to open for six hours a night (a 2018 measure brought in by Hackney council – dictating that all new venues must close by 11pm on weeknights - has made this scenario especially likely.) But we can make the case for a better London nightlife without turning into spoiled consumer rights advocates, stamping our feet when our whims aren’t catered to and oblivious to the exploitation on which so much of our leisure depends.