The pathologies of ‘Bristolism’: devolution and its failures in the West of England

Structural, political, and ideological failures have undermined devolution in Bristol and the West of England. Th e region’s woes highlight the fact that eff ective devolution requires political stability, collaborative leadership, and a coherent governing vision. 

In the 2024 Spring Budget, the Conservative government announced the expansion of devolved powers to a number of combined authorities, including the allocation of millions of pounds of additional funding for key ‘trailblazer’ areas. One authority was notably absent. On 5 March, the day before the Budget, the West of England Combined Authority (WECA) had entered special measures, after a damning audit prompted a ‘Best Value’ notice from central government.¹ The criticisms raised – confusion, dysfunction, division – were not new; they were, nevertheless, enough to firmly exclude WECA from the prospect of the extra responsibilities and enhanced powers other ‘Level 4’ areas were to enjoy. 

Two years later, WECA is out of special measures – but the damage is done.

Devolution is now at the heart of Labour’s governing agenda. On offer is the meaningful transfer of powers to local leaders and local people. At its best, devolution enables people in a region to more fully partake in, and reap the rewards of, the growth and development of the place they choose to call home. An ideal model of what can be achieved exists in Greater Manchester, where Andy Burnham’s ‘Manchesterism’ offers a vision of both economic and social progress. 

Its disappointing mirror image can, perhaps, be found in ‘Bristolism’. Its issues are neatly summarised within the same Best Value notice that heralded the start of the region’s year of ignominy: a failure to grasp what, exactly, Bristol and the West of England is and how best to run it; deep and all-too-personal leadership-level divisions; and above all, a lack of a clear narrative and guiding plan. 

As the West of England Combined Authority attempts to claw its way back into the good graces of central government and its own residents, but while its local politics continues to fracture, an examination of what exactly went wrong in the region offers an opportunity to consider how devolution can be strengthened, and to identify future (and ongoing) pitfalls to be avoided elsewhere.

A fragmented political landscape

Bristol and the West of England are hardly the first places that spring to mind as being particularly deep in the doldrums. Like Manchester to the North West, Bristol and its surrounding environs are the economic, social and cultural powerhouse of the wider South West.² Bristol’s historic strengths as a port city with a strong mercantile legacy have endured, and the city maintains a healthy service-based economy with growing technological and innovation specialisms driven in part by universities. Neighbouring Bath is a small but wealthy city, popular with tourists, while South Gloucestershire (much of which now falls within Bristol’s urban sprawl) is a manufacturing, aerospace, and defence powerhouse. For many young people – including graduates of its own leading universities – seeking work and a good quality of life, the West of England’s thriving economy, cultural vibrancy, and distinct creative identity represent an attractive prospect. So what’s the problem? 

The first stumbling block for devolution efforts in the region has been the opaque and overcomplicated structure of its local government. First, there is the West of England Combined Authority (WECA). Introduced in 2017, WECA brings together the unitary authorities of Bristol, South Gloucestershire, and Bath & North East Somerset, operating via a cabinet that includes the three authorities’ respective council leaders and the Metro Mayor. The conflation of Bristol and the West of England/WECA in this piece reflects the (locally controversial) idea that this is, in effect, a Greater Bristol. 

Indeed, WECA is more or less a revival of a previous local authority: ‘the hated county of Avon’.³ Throughout its brief life between 1974 and 1996, Avon was dogged by criticisms that it was too Bristol-centric, having drawn in chunks of surrounding counties: the popular acronyms ‘BOSNIA’ (Bits of Somerset Not in Avon) and now ‘CUBA’ (Counties That Used to Be Avon) point to deeper controversies about where, exactly, the West of England is, and who it involves as a political project. Local politicians in Somerset and South Gloucestershire fiercely defended their own sovereignty, and resisted the perceived incursion of Bristolian political interests into their fiefdoms (despite their obvious economic and social connections). The initial rejection of WECA membership by North Somerset – the only former part of Avon not to join – was thus a warning that old wounds could reopen. 

This contentious balance of power between the authorities, and the problems it continues to pose in regional governance, are hardly unusual in other areas: Manchester has faced similar truculence from neighbours in areas such as Chester and Warrington. Nonetheless, and although North Somerset (and potentially Gloucestershire proper) looks set to join the combined authority soon, WECA and its prospects faced trouble from the start.⁴

The structure of governance in Bristol itself has hardly been more orderly. In 2012, ten English cities held referendums on adopting an elected mayoral system. Bristol was the only one to vote in favour of the plans, with its previous cabinet system replaced later that year by a city mayor and cabinet.⁵ They were short lived. In 2022, a second city-wide referendum saw the mayoralty scrapped in favour of a committee system that now, following Government intervention in 2025 criticising this ‘wasteful’ approach, will revert to the old cabinet system.⁶

This turmoil is exacerbated by the historic and ongoing instability in both the city and the region’s politics. In contrast to Labour’s longstanding control of Greater Manchester, Bristol and the West of England have no such political bedrock. For over half of Bristol city council’s existence, no party has had overall control; nor has any party managed a particularly long spell in the driving seat – due in part to the fact that, until 2016, Bristol held elections for a third of its councillors in three out of every four years. In the 2024 local elections, the Greens outstripped Labour for the first time to win a slim plurality on the council; this followed eight years of effective Labour control under Mayor Marvin Rees, preceded by his independent predecessor George Ferguson and a short spell of Liberal Democrat control in the noughties. At the wider West of England’s level things are no better: control of its three local authorities is split across three different parties. 

Single-party control of an area does not guarantee stability or success. However, the situation has denied the council effective long-term planning and the chance to execute a particular vision in the way of Greater Manchester. Here, a mayoralty (or two!) was supposed to offer a lifeline: a source of centralised leadership in a place that has long struggled with internecine warfare that both stood in the way of effective local development and generated public dissatisfaction. 

In Bristol’s case, the visibility of the new directly elected mayor became a lightning rod for ire stemming from the city’s continuing dysfunction, and from the mounting impact of long-term funding cuts. Rees faced social and cultural issues that political leaders in the city have long struggled to grapple with. Bristol is still the most racially segregated of Britain’s major cities.⁷ Government indices rank a number of Bristolian neighbourhoods in both the top and bottom 1 per cent for deprivation in England. The Sutton Trust’s Opportunity Index places two of Bristol’s constituencies, Bristol South and Bristol East, amongst the ten worst for social mobility, with Bristol South sending the fewest number of school leavers to university in the entire country.⁸ Against the idealised view of the city as a progressive, politically radical bohemian paradise, the stark reality of how many of its inhabitants live – and how little of the city’s prosperity reaches them – is too often ignored. 

Rees came from a working-class background, and as the first Black mayor of any major European city, his election in 2016 seemed like a milestone for Bristol. It was not to be. Rees himself attracted personal flak for his leadership style, facing accusations that he struggled to brook criticism, including from fellow Labour councillors, and was quick to shut down challenges, including blocking local democracy reporters from council briefings.⁹ These issues are by no means inconsequential; the personal failings of Bristol and the West of England’s leaders have undoubtedly held the region back. However, it is not excessive to say that wider events also engulfed him – and that the endemic, enduring racism these events exposed was an underdiscussed factor in his unpopularity. 

In 2020, Bristol’s Black Lives Matter protest attracted worldwide news coverage when a statue of slave trader Edward Colston was torn down and thrown into the harbour. Installed in the late Victorian era by the city’s still-powerful Merchant Venturers (of which Rees’ predecessor George Ferguson is a former member), the statue had long attracted controversy – but the question of what should happen once it was dredged up became a flashpoint, bringing to light many locals’ (and many more non-locals’) unwillingness to reckon with the city’s legacies of slavery and empire. Rees’ second term in office – he was re-elected in 2021 – was dogged by the fallout. Again, this was far from the only reason for his unpopularity, but the abolition of the mayoral position by referendum in 2024 was as much  a verdict on Rees himself, and an encapsulation of the city’s divisions, as it was on the mayoral position in the abstract.

Once established, the WECA Metro Mayoralty experienced the inverse of Bristol’s problem. The continued existence of a separate mayor in Bristol after the Metro Mayoralty was introduced reflected sensitivities around simply extending the former’s jurisdiction into surrounding regions to create an Avon 2.0 or Greater Bristol. However, geographically overlapping metro and city mayoral fiefdoms were always a dubious recipe for success, and the result was that the WECA Metro Mayoralty was somewhat sidelined. Its awkward position – hovering over the region and its local authorities with an underutilised and often unclear mandate – limited popular engagement with, and understanding of, the authority and its role. Turnouts at its three mayoral elections hovered around 30 per cent and the results (like those in Bristol) were finely balanced between several political parties.

A culture of under-delivery

The practical result of this political turmoil is a cornerstone of ‘Bristolism’: the frequent inability to satisfactorily complete key projects or see them through to lasting positive outcomes. The delivery of landmark urban development and infrastructure schemes has been little short of torturous, beset by delays, changes of plan, huge overspend, and squandered prospects. The Temple Quarter redevelopment project is one such example, emblematic of Bristol’s long-running development troubles. Issues all-too-recognisable in the present first reared their heads in the 1980s, as political battles broke out between local and central government following the establishment of an Urban Development Corporation in the area. Echoes of WECA’s recent Best Value notice can be found in assessments of the city council’s recalcitrant engagement in the project: “Antidevelopment, inflexible and too demanding”. As the UDC and local authorities quickly came to loggerheads, the scheme ground to a halt: “It [was] widely agreed that its dream of transforming Bristol into a great European city remains a long way short of fulfilment”.¹⁰ Plus ca change.

More recently, the attempt to develop an arena at the site has faced a similar fate. In 2018, over twenty years since the project was first proposed, then-city mayor George Ferguson secured a Temple Meads-adjacent site. Development was well underway when his successor Marvin Rees paused the plans. It will now (eventually) be built seven miles away on the site of a former airfield within Bristol’s South Gloucestershire suburbs by a consortium including Malaysian conglomerate YTL and Aviva, after which – following roughly five years of debate – the arena will be named. The original site, ‘Arena Island’, is now a temporary car park. For some time, one of its few tangible legacies was a bridge to nowhere: a fenced-off, unusable footbridge spanning the River Avon which cost the council £3 million, including over £100,000 paid to the Crown Estate to lease the airspace above it.¹¹

Against the odds, much of the rest of the site is developing at pace, with a new university campus alongside housing and business investments. However, the arena debacle is illustrative of larger problems. One is the deep-rooted culture of under-delivery, indecisiveness, and inconsistency. Bristol and the West of England are underdeveloped for both the physical and economic size of the region. Attempts to address this are unpopular; the longstanding status quo of underdevelopment has become self-perpetuating. New proposals are resisted ardently at a local level – including the housing the city so desperately needs.¹² The problem extends to the political leadership. Even when willing, local politicians struggle to deliver when political volatility prevents them from seeing plans through to completion. The botched outcomes fuel their unpopularity; in turn, the electoral churn continues, successive administrations’ schemes fall short, and the economic and social constraints (restricted growth, acute housing shortages and unaffordability) deepen. ¹³

Failures of political leadership

The calibre of political leadership in the region is a significant contributor to Bristolism’s woes. This is perhaps best exemplified by the period during which both the WECA Metro Mayoralty and Bristol city mayoralty were held by Labour: Dan Norris’ election to the Metro Mayoralty in 2017 should have been an opportunity for Norris and then-Bristol Mayor Marvin Rees to collaborate while in control of all available devolved powers in the region. Instead, the opposite occurred, as the two spent the ensuing years developing an increasingly hostile relationship that often pitted council and combined authority against one another. 

Much of this played out via the development of a mass transit network for the region, which came to serve as a pertinent example of Bristol and the West of England’s political dysfunction and its consequences: turmoil, deadlock and – ultimately – failure. Inadequate public transport is hardly a novel issue; however, Bristol and its environs are abnormally poorly connected. It is the UK’s largest city region without a committed mass transit network. Fewer than half of the (reasonably small) city’s residents able to reach the centre within half an hour. These issues have dogged the region, and an account of the internecine local government warfare surrounding them could be a case study of its own.¹⁴

As it stands, residents of the city and the wider West of England are reliant on the whims of First Group: primarily on its patchy, expensive, and unreliable bus network, or on the rail network operated by First subsidiary GWR (whose Bristol-Bath line is, per mile, one of the most expensive rail journeys in Europe). Bristol in particular has burnished its green credentials by marketing itself as a city of walkers and cyclists, with a fifth of commuters walking to work. This is little surprise when the alternatives are so limited; it also obscures the issue of car dependency in the region, with 40 per cent of commutes by car covering distances of under two kilometres. ¹⁵  The extent of current ‘mass transit’ provision in the region is Bristol’s Metrobus network. This took roughly twenty years to develop and omitted almost the entire south of the city – not to mention much of the rest of the West of England – from its eventual network of just four routes.

In 2017, in the face of these enduring transport woes, then-Bristol Mayor Marvin Rees proposed his flagship scheme: a partially underground light rail metro network for the city and wider region.¹⁶ Upon taking office, Dan Norris – who, as Metro Mayor, held most of the transport brief for the region – did not approve. Three years of public political conflict ensued, with each figure taking to the local press to argue their case and condemn, respectively, the other’s ‘lack of ambition’ and ‘unaffordable and unrealistic’ dreams.¹⁷ More pertinently, this conflict both exposed and fuelled broader political deadlock within WECA. Plans for millions of pounds of spending and investment were placed on hold as Norris exercised controversial veto rights against the other council leaders on WECA’s governing committee, and as the latter pulled out of meetings where key investment decisions were to be made. Unsurprisingly, mass transit plans did not progress.¹⁸

The failure to address the transport issue has been a huge problem for the region. Whereas the existence of the ‘Metrolink’ and Andy Burnham’s successful refranchising of buses has been a cornerstone of Manchesterism and Greater Manchester’s success, public transport problems in Bristol and the West of England have been a key driver of political deadlock, public frustration, and strangulated economic growth. To put it bluntly, the region cannot and will not progress unless transport provision improves; specifically, unless a clear plan is made, agreed upon, and enacted without the constant chopping and changing that has dogged infrastructure delivery. At the time of writing, there is light at the end of the tunnel: current WECA leaders have announced a mass transit ‘Transport Vision’.¹⁹ Nevertheless, the preceding years of waste and frustration have left many to reserve judgement until results become more apparent. 

The transport spat signalled deeper issues in WECA’s governance. Dan Norris (now Hanham MP) faces a litany of far more serious criminal allegations; however, his tenure as Metro Mayor was also far from uncontroversial. It is hard not to draw fairly damning conclusions of his time in office. His poor relationships with his own colleagues across the region did not blunt his capacity for self-promotion despite the limited tangible legacies of his time in office. The most notorious example of this was the use of £10,000 of electoral funds to place a picture of himself and his dog, Angel, on the sides of Bristol’s buses to promote the ‘Birthday Bus Pass’ scheme – a move that drew widespread condemnation, and led to the resignation of WECA’s Chief Executive.²⁰

The eventual consequence of Norris’s tenure was WECA’s placement in special measures following an audit that raised concern about delays, constitutional violations, and the breakdown of working relationships. Almost £900,000 was spent on employment tribunals and pay-offs.²¹ As of 2025, WECA has exited special measures with Metro Mayor Helen Godwin having made clear her commitment to a more constructive approach. Regrettably, however, much of the damage is done: WECA and its devolved powers are now stuck in a game of catch-up compared to other regions.²²

A lack of ideological vision

Another facet of Bristolism: the lack of a clear vision at a more ideological level. In contrast to the clear substance of Manchesterism, the visions of Bristol’s political leaders have always been rather woolly. Despite the city’s green and left-wing reputation, inevitably something of an inaccurate stereotype, there has never really been a clearly defined Bristolian political ideology; certainly not one which has secured political or popular consensus, nor which has laid out a clear policy or delivery blueprint. The main parties, in particular Labour and the Greens, engage with each other in a manner characterised more by the narcissism of small differences than actual substantial ideological disagreements. As is often typical of local politics, many local councillors are not necessarily staunch adherents to a central party line. Labour’s own councillors have often proven somewhat unruly, and the Greens, who do not use a whipping system, have struggled in turn to keep their plans on track. The overall picture is often combative and even more frequently simply dysfunctional. 

Bristol’s first elected mayor, George Ferguson, claimed his mission was to ‘seek recognition for Bristol as a member of UK PLC’.²³ Successor Marvin Rees’ One City Approach, which continues under the new Green leadership, pledges to make Bristol a ‘fair, healthy and sustainable city, a city of hope and aspiration where everyone can share in its success’ by 2050.²⁴ These are grand visions, but abstract ones – perhaps unsurprising, given the difficulty securing buy-in from allies, let alone opponents. 

The downstream result is that, unlike Manchesterism, there has been a failure to connect; to make a compelling case, as Burnham has, for how the causes and policies city leaders champion will connect to residents’ everyday lives – and then to support this connection through delivery. Global and European awards of ‘European Green Capital 2015’ and finalist for ‘most innovative’ EU city in 2018 were great (and not undeserved) accolades, but unlike the tangible social and economic gains shaped by Manchesterism, you would be hard-pressed to find such an example in Bristol.

The challenge of pluralism 

Despite the numerous failures of political leadership, the pathologies of Bristolism are ultimately more about the plurality of views in Bristol and the West of England, as well as the previously-described messy structure of the region. A programme like Manchesterism is far more achievable when a regional leadership has all of the local levers at its disposal, and can secure political control of the region. As with so much else outlined here – from the delivery of projects to the structure of governance to the political balance – any equivalent approach in Bristol faces something of a chicken/egg problem. A project like ‘One City’ is vague because there simply isn’t one Bristol: to get going in the first place, large-scale compromise is needed. Then, the watered-down project falls short because it still ultimately relies on unlikely collaboration. 

What is the lesson here? If there is anything to be taken from the struggles of Bristol and the West of England, it is a warning that executing a programme like Manchesterism is not possible everywhere. It requires a level of consensus and stability that, based on Labour’s prospects alone, looks increasingly out of reach across most of the country. 

Perhaps that is unfairly pessimistic. Despite the setbacks outlined, the region has huge potential. Increasing buy-in to WECA as a project, and the prospect of an (eventual) allocation of more devolved powers, offer hope that this potential could yet be realised. 

As mentioned, many of the issues of structure and leadership have improved over the past two years under new, more conciliatory, management. These glimmers of hope are in no small part down to what is effectively a form of progressive alliance between current Labour Metro Mayor Helen Godwin and other local leaders, particularly pertinent in the face of a growing threat from Reform. In particular, Godwin (a former Bristol Labour councillor and cabinet member) and the new Green Bristol Council Leader Tony Dyer have proven to have a stronger and more productive working partnership than their two Labour predecessors. This May, Godwin appointed Dyer as her deputy Mayor – the first such cross-party move in the country, but likely not the last. 

Here, the West of England has a chance to lead, setting an example of collaborative governance that prioritises making the most of common causes and shared values to deliver practical change. Rather than a disadvantage, it might now be time to consider how areas with long-standing histories of multi-party politics where Labour’s representation is limited but potentially still hugely influential, can set an example – preferably a positive one. Many more local leaders will soon be facing the same prospect, and must grasp the necessity of collaboration, both for the immediate delivery of a left-leaning agenda, and for their longer-term political survival. As such alliances become increasingly necessary across the country, Bristol and WECA will continue to provide important lessons.

Charlotte Sellers works for justice reform charity Revolving Doors and is a (until recently) life-long Bristol resident.

Notes

1.      Department for Levelling Up, Housing and Communities, ‘Best Value Notice for West of England Combined Authority’, www.gov.uk, 5 March 2024.

2.      The Brunel Centre, ‘Strategic Economic Audit of the West of England’, www.

thebrunelcentre.co.uk, 19 March 2026. 

3.      John Wimperis, ‘WECA concerns raised over potential “County of Avon”’, North Somerset Times, 20 September 2025. 

4.      West of England Combined Authority, ‘Consultation on North Somerset joining combined authority’, www.westofengland-ca.gov.uk, 13 February 2026. 

5.      BBC News, ‘Bristol residents vote for directly elected mayor’, www.bbc.com, 3 May 2012. 

6.      Paul Barltrop, ‘Bristol City Council’s committee system to be scrapped’, www.bbc.co.uk, 25 June 2025. 

7.      Tristan Cork, ‘What the Runnymede Report into inequality in Bristol is and what it said’, Bristol Post, 2 May 2018.  

8.      The Opportunity Index, Sutton Trust, 2026. Tristan Cork, ‘South Bristol ‘being left behind’ as university take-up remains worst in the country’, Bristol Post, 13 December 2017. 

9.      BBC News, ‘Bristol mayor Marvin Rees responds to press conference row’, www.bbc.co.uk, 8 July 2022. 

10.    Nick Oatley and Andrew May, ‘Out of Touch, out of Place, out of Time: A Valediction for Bristol Development Corporation’, in Robert Imrie and Huw Thomas (Eds.), British Urban Policy: An Evaluation of the Urban Development Corporations, SAGE, 1999. 

11.    Kate Wilson, ‘‘Bridge to nowhere’ which was supposed to link St Philip’s with arena covered in graffiti’, Bristol Post, 5 December 2019.  

12.    Hannah Massoudi, ‘Farmer running Yew Tree Farm to leave after ongoing conflict’, Bristol247, 1 March 2025. 

13.    Oscar Selby, ‘Ship shape? How the planning system is holding back Bristol’s economy’, www.centreforcities.org, 17 July 2024. 

14.    ‘Mapping the 30-minute city’, www.centreforcities.org, 2022. 

15.    Bristol City Council, ‘2011 Census Topic Report: Who Walks to Work?’, www.bristol.gov.uk, November 2014. 

16.    BBC News, ‘Bristol underground: Mayor says studies show it is viable’, www.bbc.co.uk, 26 August 2022.  

17.    Betty Woolerton, ‘Metro mayor’s “lack of ambition” on Bristol underground “staggering”’, Bristol247, 23 February 2023;  Pete Simson, ‘Bristol metro project in doubt after political row’, www.bbc.co.uk, 6 October 2023.  

18.    Adam Postans, ‘Multi-million pound projects delayed after bust-up between council leaders and metro mayor’, The Bristol Cable, 18 October 2021.  

19.    Tristan Cork, ‘New images show how mass transit could look in Bristol as mayor pledges it will happen “within four years”’, Bristol Post, 11 February 2026. 

20.    Rob Minchin, ‘£10,000 of taxpayers’ money spent on image of mayor and dog on bus – report’, The Independent, 24 November 2023.  

21.    Joe Skirkowski and Michelle Ruminski, ‘WECA spent nearly £900,000 on staff pay outs and tribunals’, www.bbc.co.uk, 5 September 2025.  

22.    Bristol Unpacked, ‘WECA Mayor Helen Godwin – redefining regional leadership and sorting out the buses’, open.spotify.com, 11 August 2025. 

23.    Alexandra Jones, ‘Interview: What difference can a Mayor make? (1/2)’, www.centreforcities.org, 25 November 2013.  

24.    Bristol City Council, ‘Bristol One City Plan’, www.bristolonecity.com, 2025.