New Towns

Anna Dixon Excerpts

Thursday 15th January 2026 Commons Chamber

[Katrina Murray]

The hon. Gentleman must have read the other parts of my speech, as I will come to that point. As I was about to say, new towns were never meant to just be housing schemes. They were meant to be places: planned communities, where jobs, homes and services developed together, so people could build stable lives close to where they worked. That vision is clear in how Cumbernauld was developed. It brought together families moving out of overcrowded parts of Glasgow, alongside others, often younger people and professionals, who moved there specifically to work. Employment was central, not an afterthought. Major employers, including Burroughs, played a central role in the town’s early growth. It provided skilled employment at scale, initially manufacturing mechanical adding machines—remember those?—and later moving into computers and printers.

People moved to Cumbernauld for work and opportunity, and to put down roots. As industries changed, the site evolved into what is now the Wardpark industrial area, which continues to support employment in different forms. Around that, neighbourhoods were designed to function as real communities. Social housing was central, not marginal, and each area had its own shops, post office, parking, garages and public transport, with regular bus services connecting people into Glasgow and beyond. When new towns are discussed now, the focus is often on buildings or concrete. What often gets overlooked is the thought given to how people would actually live—how housing, employment, transport and green space all fit together. Cumbernauld is sometimes judged by its built form, but it is also defined by its green space deliberately woven into daily life. That is the new town model at its best.

It is impossible to talk about Cumbernauld without mentioning the town centre. In the 1960s it was genuinely celebrated: award-winning, internationally recognised, and seen as a confident expression of modernist and brutalist design. It was officially opened by Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon. For families arriving at that time, that optimism was real: with the modern buildings, light, space and public services, they felt like stepping out of the 19th-century conditions they were used to and into the modern world.

Decades later, that same town centre went on to win awards of a very different kind, including the Carbuncle awards and the Plook on the Plinth in the early noughties. That contrast tells its own story. It is about not a lack of ambition, but what happens when bold design is left without sustained investment, renewal and long-term stewardship. Today, the town centre is undergoing long-term regeneration, made possible with the investment of the UK Government focused on making the centre work for modern life, rather than erasing what came before.

The same issues can be seen in parts of the housing stock. Houses that were built quickly, using methods that were innovative at the time, did not always stand the test of time. In Cumbernauld, areas such as Ainslie Road were affected by concrete deterioration, leading to homes having to be demolished, while flat-roofed housing—very much of its era—proved less suited to Scotland’s climate as buildings aged. But that experience has also supported local expertise, including firms like BriggsAmasco—a Cumbernauld-based flat roofing specialist investing highly in skills and apprenticeships.

These challenges were not unique to my town. Across the new towns, infrastructure and housing aged at the same time, without the funding or the governance structures to renew them properly. When development corporations were wound up and assets sold off, responsibility became fragmented. In many cases, ownership passed from hedge fund to hedge fund, with no real long-term stake in the place beyond what appeared on a balance sheet. What went wrong was not the new town concept itself, but the failure to plan properly for what came next. That is the lesson we cannot afford to ignore. If we are serious about learning from new towns, and about building new ones, the ambition at the start has to be matched by responsibility over the long term.

When we talk about new towns, it is easy to focus on plans and buildings. What really made places like Cumbernauld work were the people who stepped up, saw what was missing, and got things done; that early generation who made sure that this was their community. One of those people was Sheena Walker, a true pioneer in disability care. When she moved to Cumbernauld in the late 1960s, there was no local support for children with learning disabilities. She refused to accept that. Through sheer determination and tenacity, she brought parents together and worked across the development corporation, the council and social work to create community housing, day centres and respite care. Her drive was the difference, and the services she helped to build became so strong that families later moved to Cumbernauld specifically because of them.

[Anna Dixon (Shipley) (Lab)]

My hon. Friend is making an excellent speech. As co-chair of the all-party parliamentary group on housing and care for older people, we are about to complete an inquiry into intergenerational communities. Will she join me in calling for the new new towns to be built and designed for all ages and all abilities as inclusive communities?

[Katrina Murray]

I very much commend my hon. Friend’s suggestion. What is clear is how important it is to have intergenerational towns and accessible housing.

Another local legend was Danny McGowan, who taught generations of Cumbernauld’s children to swim. He founded Cumbernauld swimming club and built it into a competitive force, driven by his passion for the sport and for giving young people confidence in the water, all despite the small challenge that the council had built the swimming pool to the wrong size for it to be a competitive pool. Rather than being put off, he worked around it, and thousands—probably hundreds of thousands—of children benefited as a result. Both those stories matter because they show that new towns were never just about infrastructure, but about people with commitment and imagination shaping communities from the inside and making places work for those who lived there.

So what does all of this tell us not just about Cumbernauld, but about new towns more broadly? One clear lesson is that long-term responsibility matters. Building homes and infrastructure is only the beginning. Without clarity about stewardship, places struggle to thrive decades later. Another lesson is that homes and jobs must be planned together. New towns worked best when people could live close to where they worked, and not allowed to become purely commuter settlements. Renewal has to start with people. Regeneration is not just about buildings and masterplans. It has to involve communities and to respect the identity of places that people care deeply about. This feels particularly relevant as the Government look to build a new generation of new towns in England. If we are serious about doing that well, we have to learn from the first generation: planning for stewardship from day one and giving communities a real voice as places grow and change.

Our first generation of new towns are no longer new towns in any meaningful sense; they are simply towns with families, histories, challenges and pride built up over generations. People were born there, raised there, worked there, stayed there, left there and came home—that is what matters when we talk about the future. I hope this debate will help to ensure that as we build again at scale, we are not simply creating new places, but committing to them for the long term. I look forward to hearing the contributions from across the House.