Is British economic geography in decline?

A response to “Sustaining Economic Geography Business/Management Schools and the UK’s Great Economic Geography Diaspora” Environment and Planning A, Exchanges

Is British economic geography in decline? I appreciate that to some – especially non-UK based – observers, to even ask this question might strike as odd. After all, in many respects, one could argue that on a wider front, the subject of economic geography has never been in better shape. Its key journals – the Journal of Economic Geography, Economic Geography, Regional Studies, Environment and Planning and the numerous others that serve the subdiscipline – seem to be thriving, if the ever-rising tide of submitted papers, ‘special issues’ and citation metrics is any guide. Also, over the past two decades, there has been a veritable flood of Handbooks, Companions, Readers, Surveys and similar edited collections of ‘research frontier’ or ‘state of the art’ papers by the subdiscipline’s leading and upcoming authors. Similarly, the ever-increasing array of parallel specialist sessions at our major international conferences would seem to point to the sheer diversity and vibrancy of the subject.

Yet, as James et al. (2018) argue in their Exchanges paper, in the UK the subdiscipline of economic geography may not be in the best of health, at least in terms of its traditional institutional base. For as the report by James et al. makes clear, over the past two decades or so there has been a significant movement – or should one say, defection – of economic geographers from geography departments into business and management schools. As the authors argue, there have been both pull and push factors at work in this movement. On the ‘pull’ side, geographers have been attracted by the generally higher salaries offered by business schools and by the growing interest in and empathy towards spatial economic considerations within their teaching and research programmes, not least the recognition that firm performance, innovation and enterprise all have important place-based dimensions and determinants. On the ‘push’ side, there is without question a feeling among many economic geographers who have moved into business schools that both they, and the subdiscipline itself, have become marginalized within their own departments, especially those that have been heavily influenced by the ‘cultural turn’, while at the same time institutional commitment to the subdiscipline has declined. My own department is one such. As economic geography staff have left or retired, so they have not been replaced, and their posts filled instead with cultural, social or environmental geographers. To be sure, some cultural and social geographers may claim to cover economic geography issues, but typically in an anti-economics, and definitely anti-quantitative, way. ¹ The fact is that the majority of those in these fields seem to have little interest in or even deliberately distance themselves from what they regard as ‘traditional’ economic geography. It is perhaps not too surprising, therefore, that many economic geographers feel undervalued or marginalized; under these circumstances, business and management schools certainly seem much more attractive institutions in which to teach and do research.

All this matters for the future of economic geography in the UK (and indeed elsewhere). Of course, it could be argued that the movement of economic geographers out of geography departments into business schools is even a positive thing, since it preserves and promotes the importance of economic geography, especially in an applied, often policy orientated context, on a wider front. In other words, it matters not where economic geography ideas and knowledge are taught and disseminated, and if business schools are the more appropriate institutions, this could actually be to the subdiscipline’s advantage. And after all, such an argument might continue, not only are the conventional boundaries between disciplines increasingly blurred, it is often at their intersection that theoretical and empirical innovation is more likely to occur. So one should think in terms of economic geography in interdisciplinary terms rather than as a departmental subject.

But there are also worrying downsides. My own discussions with colleagues who have migrated into business schools suggest that having done so, they can come under pressure to reorientate their research and publication to the priorities and imperatives that drive and define the activities of such schools. ² So the fear is that, over time, the economic geography content of their teaching and research could actually be diluted. Meanwhile, back in geography departments, the decline in the number and share of economic geography posts means that economic geography courses get cut or severely watered down, undergraduates encounter less and less economic geography teaching, which then reduces the numbers wanting or available to continue into PhD work, which then leads to fewer young economic geographers entering the academic job market to replenish the subdiscipline’s ‘gene pool’ of teachers and researchers. All the signs are that in many geography departments in the UK, this vicious circle of decline is already well established. Ultimately, the UK could end up with only one or two universities in which there is a geography department with a large enough critical mass of economic geographers to sustain a viable and attractive teaching and research base (James et al list just four such: the London School of Economics (LSE), Newcastle, Nottingham and Cardiff). ³ Many former centres of excellence in economic geography (including Manchester, Bristol, Birmingham, Cambridge, UCL and Southampton) have already witnessed serious decline and emasculation. This is hardly a healthy state of affairs.

It is also a rather ironic situation. For while this process of attrition has been taking place, the importance of geography – of space and place – in the workings and governance of the economy has become increasingly recognized amongst policy makers, at all geographical–institutional scales, from the World Bank, to national governments, to individual regional and city authorities and agencies. We may not always agree with how such bodies interpret or use ‘geography’ in their deliberations and pronouncements, but the fact of the matter is that economic geography is firmly on the policy agenda. Nowhere has this been more evident than in the UK itself, where over the past few years government discussions and initiatives have emerged around such issues as ‘spatially rebalancing’ the national economy; ‘powering up’ the economies of northern cities; devolving powers from the national political-economic centre (London) to new combined authorities (with ‘metro-mayors’) in the regions and major cities; the drawing up of a new, ‘place-based’ national industrial strategy; and the regional and local impact of the UK’s impending withdrawal from the European Union (‘Brexit’). All of these are issues which fall squarely within the academic remit of economic geographers. Some, myself included, have indeed become involved and consulted in these new policy debates. But it is probably fair to argue that it has been the new breed of spatial economists (essentially those subscribing to the ‘new economic geography’ (NEG), and to the ‘new urban economics’) – particularly those in the London School of Economics (perhaps confirming the importance of physical proximity to the organs of central government?) – who have dominated this new policy arena. Interestingly, there is significant overlap and collaboration between the economic geographers in the LSE and the spatial economists there. The key point is that it seems somewhat bizzare that at the very time when economic geography has become a respected notion amongst policy-makers in the UK (and elsewhere), the subdiscipline is in danger of disappearing from many of our geography departments.

So, what to do? One thing is certain: there is no easy, single or quick solution. James et al. offer two main strategies. The first is to develop and reassert a ‘vibrant core intellectual agenda’ to the subdiscipline, capable of sparking the imagination of students and young researchers and making a major contribution to the key issues of our time. But is the lack of a ‘core agenda’ really the problem? Does cultural geography have more of a ‘core agenda’ than economic geography? Not really. And as the discipline of economics suggests, having a ‘core agenda’ – in its case, the dominance of what is usually called ‘mainstream’ theory, organized around the principles of rational behaviour, individual maximization, self-correcting markets and general equilibrium – can be problematic. ⁴ What might be more pertinent is to ask whether economic geography gives sufficient attention to the ‘big issues’ of our times, not just the financial crisis, but other major challenging developments, including global imbalance, increasing social inequality, digitization (especially artificial intelligence), the ongoing emasculation of public services, the shift in world economic power to China and South East Asia, the rapacious depletion of natural resources, the degradation of the environment, and climate change, to name but some – all problems that are inherently geographically uneven in their causes and impacts. The world economy arguably stands at a critical crossroads in terms of its development, seemingly caught between the twin dynamics of growing social (and spatial) inequality and deepening ecological degradation, and it behoves us to consider whether our subdiscipline is sufficiently focused on what is happening and capable of influencing the sort of policies that can help ensure the outcomes are equitable and sustainable. To be sure, economic geographers have engaged with some of these ‘big issues’ (e.g. two such are neoliberalism and financialization). But much of the discipline (and the conference circuit) seems more concerned with yet more conceptual refinements and empirical examples of (and endless conference sessions devoted to) such topics as innovation, clusters, specialization, agglomeration, networks, etc. – all interesting in their way, but not, I fear, necessarily the subjects that do much to fire the imagination of students.

This is not to suggest that James et al.’s call for a ‘core intellectual agenda’ is irrelevant or misplaced. Indeed, it connects to a mounting concern amongst (at least some) economic geographers over what they argue has been the drift to unbridled pluralism, of a growing multiplicity of theoretical schemas, concepts and empirical foci, of local models and narratives, of case study accounts and micro-level approaches. ⁵ However, this too is not a trend peculiar to economic geography, but also typifies other branches of geographical enquiry. And in any case some internal pluralism or diversity of approach is vital: it is necessary for theoretical advance and provides the fuel for theoretical innovation and new empirical enquiry. ⁶ The general trend in most sciences is for progressive specialization amongst its practitioners. Nevertheless, this is not to argue for excessive or unstructured pluralism. Pluralism must be structured or ‘grounded’ in some way (Dow, 2004; Martin, 2015). As Kitcher (1993) has argued, what is needed in any discipline is both an adequate consensus around a discipline’s subject matter and a set of agreed general principles, processes and concepts that define and organize that discipline, on the one hand; and a certain degree of variety or pluralism of ideas, foci and approaches and methods, on the other. Barnes and Sheppard’s (2009) suggested way forward, of ‘engaged pluralism’, does not in my view offer a way of striking this balance: indeed, their starting position appears to be a denial of the possibility of any general theorizing (see Simandan, 2011). And as Harvey (2006) argued over a decade ago, to deny any prospect of general theorizing carries a danger of taking geography back to ‘how it was practiced in the 1950s’, which is where, he interestingly contended, ‘a significant segment of British geography seems to be happily, if unwittingly, substantively headed’ (p. 129). My own view inclines towards the idea of ‘grounded pluralism’, by which I mean that different theoretical and empirical schemas should be welcomed, and are necessary, but need to be grounded in, and directed towards understanding, some generally accepted ‘big picture’ issues, processes and structures that relate to the key developments and challenges of our times. ⁷

The second strategy suggested by James et al. for stemming the shift of economic geography out of geography departments into business schools is intervening at the institutional level, for example forging a PhD training or seminar network between the few geography departments where there is a critical mass of economic geographers, with also perhaps those business schools where there are economic geographers. These and other initiatives, targeted specifically at strengthening cross-disciplinary connections, may well help. Again, the LSE model, in which spatial economists and economic geographers co-mingle, collaborate and co-write, is an example of what can be achieved. Likewise, developing large research projects that bring together economic geographers in different universities is a way of overcoming a lack of critical mass in individual departments, and has the virtue of linking individuals with different areas of expertise and specialism around a given problem. But to my mind, reviving the institutional base of British economic geography also requires much more than these sorts of initiative. Put bluntly, a key aspect of the problem is power, or the lack of it. The fact is that most departments of geography in Britain have heads who are not economic geographers – itself in part a consequence of their falling numbers and moves into business schools. Moreover, many such heads seem at best indifferent to and at worst antithetical to economic geography, some even appearing to regard economic geography as ‘old hat’ and ‘out-of-date’. Heads of departments can exert considerable influence over staff recruitment strategies, and hence the direction of travel of their departmental teaching and research programmes. Unless and until economic geographers figure more prominently as heads of departments, and thus assume positions where they can actively and purposively promote our subdiscipline, the scope for stemming the decline may be limited. The same may be said of the British Research Excellence Framework (REF), the periodic peer review that assesses the research and impact of University departments in the UK. In the case of geography, the representation of economic geography on the assessment panel seems to have all but disappeared. This too needs to be redressed. And while the Royal Geographical Society is aware of the concern over the decline of British economic geography, and understandably has a remit to promote and support all branches of geography, human, physical and environmental, it could direct more energy to help promote and champion our subdiscipline.

Finally, I would argue, the visibility and relevance of economic geography also has to do with defining and agreeing our public mission. What is the purpose of economic geography? Who are we researching and writing for? The academy is obviously one such public – the student body and fellow academic geographers (both economic and non-economic). The policy community is another public with which we need to interact and collaborate much more closely. Although economic geographers have definitely made significant progress in engaging with and advising policy makers, far too often the latter turn to consultancies or even economists for expert analysis and advice on economic–geographic and related issues. And then there is the general public itself. Economic geographers rarely write for the general public, yet in recent years ‘popularist’ books on today’s big issues written for the general public by a new breed of economic journalist have been notably successful and influential. ⁸ The British academic system – particularly the REF – assigns little status or importance to such writing. While the REF increasingly stresses ‘impact’, this does not extend to ‘popularist’ outputs.

If British economic geography is to survive and thrive, then it is largely up to those of us who practice it, whether in geography departments or business schools, to raise our game, become more assertive, rethink our research priorities (and not simply continue to do more of the same), and engage much more with the key issues, developments, problems and limits that confront our world today, not just to expose their uneven geographical impacts and consequences, but, equally, to suggest how constructive and positive policies can shape those changes to the benefit of the many rather than just the few. There is a demand for economic geography out there in the policy community, and it is probably more relevant now than it has ever been: we need to seize the moment. We also need to take the lead in forging constructive collaboration with other branches of geography – cultural, social, political, historical and environmental, given that most spatial inequalities and problems are multi-dimensional and multi-causal. And we need to regain our position and role in the major institutions that shape the academy, and to convince them that the eclipse of economic geography would be to the detriment of the discipline of geography as a whole. Is British economic geography in decline? Yes. The challenge is to prevent that decline from becoming terminal.