I knew there was a need for radical social and economic change when I first saw the £10 loaf.

I’d heard the rumour of this fabled retail offering, but never believed it, Now, there it was, in the window of an artisan bakery in the west end of Glasgow, a loaf of bread costing the same amount of money I was paid for working a shift in the Doublet Bar, back in the day.

There are lots of little independent shops in that part of the city, selling specialist, high-end cheeses, meat, fish, and bread, all for an arm and a leg. There’s even one dedicated entirely to the production and sale of Portuguese custard tarts. Now that’s niche by anyone’s standards.

And restaurants. Oodles and noodles of exotic eateries of every oeuvre and dimension, representing cuisine from different corners of the globe but none, I recently discovered, willing to serve you a meal after 9.30pm on a Saturday night.

This part of the city is considered a retail success, relatively untouched by the downturn that has negatively impacted the economic health and vibrancy of town and city centres across the country in recent years.

But it’s not a model that’s easily replicable, nor particularly desirable. For a start, anything you buy there is shockingly expensive and restauranteurs - in many people’s eyes the putative saviours of the high street - have clearly identified a narrow window of profitability that doesn’t suit everyone’s requirements.


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Elsewhere it’s an entirely different story. No-one walking along Sauchiehall Street or Princes Street, or through any town centre across Scotland, at any time of the day or evening, could do anything other than conclude that something has gone seriously wrong.

Gap-toothed rows of boarded-up units, alternating with down-at-heel pop-ups, gaudy vape and nail bars, bookies and pawnbrokers contrast sharply with the former glory days of these iconic thoroughfares.

If what were once citadels of retail royalty - hosting department stores like Jenners, Wylie and Lochhead, Darling’s, Binns, and Copland and Lye - struggle to rise above the current influx of opportunistic purveyors of low-quality tat, what hope is there for the rest of the country?

Town and city centres are the lifeblood of our communities. They are where we come together to meet and talk, to eat and drink, do business, and socialise, to help one another and plan for the future. In short they are where we behave like a properly functioning society.

That many now more closely resemble the aftermath of a riot is not an inevitable accident of economic history. Rather, it’s a result of positive choices made by us, as consumers, but also by retailers, property owners, agents, local authority planners and politicians.

It’s clear that the market alone can no longer be relied upon to create the infrastructure and services we need to operate as a workable society. We urgently require government to make longer-term, strategic decisions about how we organise our living and working environment.

It has been evident for almost two decades that the future of the high street was under threat, when more and more of the products sold by identikit chain-store outlets could be bought cheaper, and more conveniently, online.

The Herald: The decline of Jenners exemplifies the problemThe decline of Jenners exemplifies the problem (Image: PA)

Since then, there has been the 2008 financial crash, Brexit and the Covid pandemic, all of which have had an impact on the way we behave as workers and consumers. As well as spending less than we used to, we have become more physically atomised, doing our jobs from home, travelling less, and communicating virtually.

Successive lockdowns sounded the death-knell for thousands of pubs across the country and, this week, it was revealed that Britons are ordering 50% more takeaways than before the pandemic, fuelled by the explosive rise of delivery companies like Deliveroo and Uber Eats.

These societal changes could yet be dwarfed by the advent of artificial intelligence (AI), which marks a pivotal moment in human progress, drawing parallels with transformative inventions like the printing press, electricity, automated transport, and the Internet.

The disruptive potential of AI raises concerns about its impact on the jobs market and workforces. While past technological advancements displaced certain industries, they also created new opportunities and sectors that absorbed the workforce. The concern with AI is that it might lead to widespread job displacement without a proportionate creation of new careers.

Unlike with the first industrial revolution, where physical labour was replaced but still required human oversight and skill, AI has the potential to automate cognitive tasks and decision-making processes as well.

However, decline is not inevitable. People still have a desire to go out to meet and socialise with friends, to discover new products and services through serendipity, browsing for things that they would never come across online.

We are told that the future of retail lies in creating new and interesting experiences for people, adding richness and value to their day. That requires creativity, investment and risk-taking, all of which are in conspicuously short supply in the areas where they are needed.

To revive and sustain communities that have neither the means nor the desire to pay exorbitant prices for niche products and services, another business model is required.

Revitalising town and city centres requires a sustainable, forward-thinking strategy that champions local independent enterprises and combats monopolistic exploitation.

Lessons could be learned from countries like France, Spain, and Italy, where the significance of local businesses to community cohesion is acknowledged and supported.

In Spain, where I have family, the hub of the community is the market where people buy fresh, locally produced food and drink at affordable prices and where there are bars and restaurants where families gather together to eat delicious, home-cooked food.

The ownership structure of town and city centre buildings in the UK currently mitigates against change. Many are owned by large property companies and pensions funds which would rather see units lie empty for years at a time, than lease them for below legacy market rents.

This is because how much rent they can accrue will ultimately determine their resale value, and so owners are determined to hold out for as long as they can in the hope of maximising their return.

There is growing pressure on planners to change the use designation of commercial buildings, by developers keen to replace them with houses and flats. While this might help to get rid of ugly, boarded-up retail units, transforming city centres into housing estates would do little for social cohesion.

The future could be bright but it requires money, co-operation, imagination, and a willingness to change. The £10 loaf should play no part in it.