Gloucestershire’s Unitary Authority: The Local Earthquake That Signals a National Democratic Crisis

The decision to abolish Gloucestershire’s six district councils and replace them with a single unitary authority is being presented as modernisation – a way to save money, streamline services, and “bring power closer to people”. But what is happening in Gloucestershire is part of a much bigger national pattern, and its consequences reach far beyond council boundaries.

This is not just administrative reform. It is the removal of an entire layer of democratic representation. And it is happening without a mandate, without a plebiscite, and without meaningful public consent.

The sales pitch: cost savings and efficiency

The Government’s argument is simple:

  • One council instead of seven
  • Fewer managers
  • Shared back‑office functions
  • Lower overheads
  • “Joined‑up services”

But Gloucestershire has already been delivering shared services for years. Ubico, shared legal teams, joint waste contracts, pooled planning policy work – these arrangements already exist and already save money.

So the real question is this:

If shared services save money, why abolish the councils themselves?

This is where the core truth sits:

Public services are a cost to be saved. Democracy is not.

Supporters of unitarisation argue that residents care more about effective services than institutional structures, and that streamlined governance can reduce duplication and improve outcomes.

That argument deserves consideration. But efficiency and representation are not interchangeable values. A system can be administratively cleaner while being democratically weaker.

The democratic layer being abolished is one that people can actually reach

People rarely contact MPs for everyday issues. They sometimes contact county councillors. But they do contact district and borough councillors – because they are accessible, local, and directly connected to the issues that shape daily life.

Planning. Licensing. Housing. Environmental health. Local development. These are not abstract policy areas. They are the things people feel.

District councillors are among the most accessible and consequential democratic representatives in England. Abolishing them anywhere removes one of the few layers of democratic power that people can routinely reach, challenge, and hold to account.

Parish and town councils: accessible but powerless

Parish and town councillors are arguably the most accessible representatives of all. But they do not hold meaningful authority.

They deal with dog bins, bus shelters, flower beds, small grants, and being “consulted” on planning applications they cannot decide.

This is not power. It is administrative housekeeping.

And while parish and town councils should be dealing with more, they aren’t – because their powers have been systematically stripped away.

Removing district councils leaves a democratic vacuum that parish councils cannot fill.

As argued in the linked Cheltenham town council piece, parish and town councils may be necessary if borough-level representation disappears, but they are not an equivalent democratic substitute. They can help preserve local civic identity, but they cannot replace the statutory powers, responsibilities, and political weight of district councils.

Fewer political posts means fewer choices – and fewer independents

A unitary authority means:

  • Fewer councillors
  • Larger divisions
  • Bigger campaign areas
  • Higher barriers to entry
  • More professionalised politics
  • More reliance on party machines
  • Fewer independents
  • Fewer small‑party candidates
  • Less diversity of representation

This is not good for democracy. It is not good for communities. And it is not good for anyone who believes politics should be open to ordinary people, not just those backed by national party resources.

The fewer the seats, the fewer the voices.

The direction of travel: regionalisation

County councillors are more accessible than MPs – but they are still far less accessible than district councillors. And once districts are gone, counties become the natural building blocks for the next stage of restructuring:

Regional mayors. Regional authorities. Regional governorships.

This is already happening across England:

  • Greater Manchester
  • West Midlands
  • West Yorkshire
  • Tees Valley
  • North East
  • East Midlands
  • Liverpool City Region

Critics of regionalisation argue that many of these arrangements began with the language of shared services and combined authorities, before moving towards directly elected regional mayors and larger strategic bodies with significant executive influence.

Gloucestershire may now be being positioned for the same trajectory.

Unitarisation is not the end. It is a stepping stone.

This is the concern set out in the linked piece on Regional Centralisation: that the language of devolution can conceal the movement of power away from local communities and towards larger, more remote political structures.

The biggest democratic problem: no mandate, no plebiscite, no consent

This is the heart of the issue.

Local people did not vote directly for this. The public was not asked through a referendum or plebiscite. Voters were not given a clear democratic choice on whether this layer of representation should disappear.

The “consultation” was lip service – a procedural box‑tick that allows officials to say:

“We asked, and you had the opportunity to speak.”

But the public did not get a real choice. They did not get a referendum. They did not get a plebiscite. They did not get a meaningful democratic process.

This is the removal of integral parts of the democratic system. It is constitutional change because it alters who citizens can elect, how close decision-makers are to the communities they serve, the number of elected representatives available to scrutinise power, and the scale at which local decisions are made.

It is structural change. It is irreversible change.

And it is being done without the one thing that makes change legitimate:

The informed consent of voters.

There is one democratic reform that does not require direct public consent in the same way: genuine devolution of power from the centre to communities. If Whitehall gives people more power, more control, and more local choice, that is an expansion of democracy.

But this is not that. This does not move power downwards. It removes a local democratic layer and concentrates authority further away from the people affected by it.

Politicians should not be deciding this. Voters should.

The truth: this is not reform – it is centralisation

The Gloucestershire unitary authority is being presented as modernisation. But it is part of a national pattern:

  • Fewer councils
  • Fewer councillors
  • Fewer elections
  • Larger authorities
  • More distant decision‑making
  • More insulated leadership
  • More regionalisation
  • Less accountability
  • Less representation
  • Less choice
  • Less democracy

This is not bringing power closer to people. It is removing it from the places where people can actually reach it.

And the core truth remains:

Public services are a cost to be saved. Democracy is not.

Conclusion: Gloucestershire is the warning – England is the subject

What is happening in Gloucestershire is not unique. It is not isolated. It is not accidental.

It is part of a national restructuring of English democracy – one that is happening quietly, without a mandate, without a vote, and without the public understanding what is being taken away.

The question is no longer whether shared services can save money. They can. They already do.

The question is whether democracy should be sacrificed in the process.

The debate is not really about council structures. It is about who should decide how local democracy is organised.

If elected layers of government can be abolished without direct public approval, the question is not merely what kind of councils England wants. It is what role voters themselves are expected to play in determining the future of democratic representation.

Further Reading:

The arguments above draw on two earlier pieces that explore the same democratic problem from different angles: first, what should happen locally if borough-level representation disappears; and second, how the language of devolution can be used to justify regional centralisation without a direct public mandate.

If the Borough Goes, Cheltenham Must Have a Town Council

This piece argues that if Cheltenham Borough Council is abolished, a town council becomes necessary to preserve civic identity and local representation. However, it also makes clear that town and parish councils are not a full substitute for borough or district councils because they lack the same statutory powers and democratic weight.

Regional Centralisation: The Rewriting of England’s Democracy Without a Mandate

This piece examines the growth of regional mayoralties and combined authorities, arguing that what is often described as devolution may in practice become regional centralisation. It develops the point that genuine devolution means transferring power downwards to communities, not replacing accessible local democracy with larger and more distant political structures.

Regional Centralisation: The Rewriting of England’s Democracy Without a Mandate

England is undergoing a constitutional transformation of unusual scale and significance. Under the banner of “devolution,” political leaders – most prominently Andy Burnham – are advancing a model that appears to empower regions but may, in practice, centralise authority at a higher tier, away from the most immediate and accessible forms of local democracy.

This is not a partisan project; politicians across the spectrum have expressed interest in similar reforms. But its implications for democratic legitimacy, local representation, and constitutional balance are profound.

What is emerging is not devolution in the traditional sense. It is regional centralisation: the consolidation of power into larger, higher-tier executive bodies that sit above existing councils, accompanied by the quiet removal or hollowing out of the lower tiers of government that citizens interact with most directly.

Crucially, this transformation is proceeding without a clear, direct mandate from the public.

The argument is not for preserving the current system unchanged, but for reform that deepens local accountability rather than bypassing it. Genuine devolution would move authority downward – to parish, town, district, and borough levels – granting councils meaningful fiscal autonomy and policy discretion within broad national frameworks.

The Disappearing Layers of Local Democracy

Most people are unaware of how many layers of local government currently represent them.

In much of England, people have:

• Parish or town councils, handling hyper‑local matters such as parks, community centres, and neighbourhood issues.

• District or borough councils, responsible for housing, planning applications, waste collection, and local services.

• County councils, overseeing education, social care, highways, libraries, and major infrastructure.

This multi‑layered system reflects the principle of subsidiarity: decisions should be made at the lowest possible level, closest to the people they affect. It provides multiple democratic access points, enabling residents to contact representatives who live nearby, understand local issues, and are accountable to small electorates.

Yet these layers are increasingly vulnerable to being reduced, merged, or bypassed. The shift toward unitary authorities and combined regional structures can replace large numbers of locally elected councillors with a smaller number of higher-tier decision-makers.

Accessibility shrinks, accountability thins, and decision-making moves further away from communities.

This is not administrative tidying.

It risks removing some of the most accessible forms of democracy.

Why Local Councils Already Feel Arbitrary – and Why That Matters

This loss is not always immediately visible. One reason it is easy to overlook is that many people already feel disconnected from their local councils.

Planning decisions, licensing rules, and other supposedly “local” policies often feel arbitrary or unresponsive. But this is not because councils are inherently flawed; it is because much of their power has already been stripped away.

Over the past two decades, local authorities have increasingly operated as delivery arms for central policy, rather than as fully autonomous democratic bodies.

In areas such as planning, licensing, housing, and social care, councils frequently:

• interpret national frameworks rather than create their own,

• implement centrally defined targets within strict statutory guidance,

• and make decisions constrained by national funding formulas.

This hollowing-out has helped create the impression that local government is ineffective or irrelevant. In reality, many councils have been significantly constrained by central policy, statutory obligations, and funding arrangements.

Regional centralisation now risks removing what remains.

Some may argue that if councils already feel powerless, their abolition is no great loss. But this misunderstands the problem. England’s democratic malaise stems from too much power already being held at the centre.

The remedy is not to remove even more local autonomy, nor to dismantle the structures that facilitate it. The remedy is to restore genuine local power, not to eliminate it.

Regional Executives: Power Upwards, Not Downwards

The emerging model concentrates authority in large, combined authorities led by regional executives. These bodies already oversee, or are being positioned to oversee, areas such as transport, housing, skills, infrastructure, and potentially wider fiscal powers.

They are designed to be strategic and streamlined – but streamlining comes at a democratic cost.

Where multiple tiers of local representation are replaced or subordinated to a higher regional executive, several consequences may follow:

• People may have fewer directly accessible representatives.

• Decision‑makers become more distant.

• Local dissent may carry less institutional weight.

• Party machinery may gain greater influence over candidate selection.

• Central government may face fewer local veto points.

This is why the term regional centralisation is so important.

Power is not being devolved to neighbourhoods or communities. It is being consolidated into larger units that are easier to manage from the centre.

As governance becomes more distant, electoral participation and civic engagement may weaken further, reinforcing the perception that local democracy is symbolic rather than meaningful.

A Constitutional Change Without Public Consent

The most serious issue is not merely structural; it is constitutional.

Changes of this magnitude alter the relationship between people and the state. They redefine how democracy functions and reshape the architecture of representation.

Yet England’s electorate has not been asked whether it wants:

• the abolition of district and county councils,

• the creation of regional executives with sweeping powers,

• new layers of governance with tax‑raising authority,

• or a restructured democratic system that reduces local access.

These reforms have not been clearly set out as a comprehensive constitutional settlement in recent national manifestos. They have not been subject to sustained public debate or submitted to referendum. Instead, they are largely being advanced through administrative and legislative pathways: secondary legislation, funding agreements, centrally negotiated devolution deals, and institutional restructuring rather than direct electoral mandates.

The constitutional principle is simple:

Consent in this context does not require unanimity, but it does require clear public awareness and an explicit opportunity to approve or reject change.

As a democratic principle, reforms of this scale can only claim legitimacy without a public vote where they clearly return power to people – not where they remove or distance it.

Regional centralisation does the latter while presenting itself as the former.

Historical Context: England Has Rejected This Before

This is not the first attempt to reorganise England into regional units.

During the early 2000s, the Blair government – in which Burnham served as a minister – supported proposals for elected regional assemblies in England. Wales and Scotland accepted their own forms of devolution; England did not follow the same path. In the North East, a referendum was held, and voters decisively rejected an elected regional assembly.

That earlier process, whatever its flaws, respected democratic norms. It asked the public. It held plebiscites. It acknowledged that constitutional change requires consent.

Today’s process does not.

A comparable regional logic is now being revived, but without referendums, without equivalent transparency, and without comparable public debate.

The electorate is being asked to accept institutional change after the fact, even though the principle at stake remains similar: who governs England, and at what level?

Why Policymakers Favour Regionalisation

To remain balanced, it is important to acknowledge why regional centralisation appeals to policymakers, particularly within the constraints of modern governance, fiscal pressure, and fragmented local structures.

Supporters argue that fragmented local governance cannot deliver the scale of planning required for modern transport, housing, skills, and economic development.

Larger regional bodies promise:

• clearer strategic planning,

• simplified negotiation with central government,

• economies of scale,

• more coherent transport and housing systems,

• and the ability to deliver large infrastructure projects.

These aims are understandable. In several areas, existing district and county structures have already or are being replaced by single unitary authorities as a precursor to, or companion of, wider combined regional bodies.

But administrative efficiency does not, by itself, justify reducing democratic access or proceeding without clear public consent. It cannot substitute for legitimacy.

Taxation: Local Powers, Higher Burdens

One of the most consequential elements of regional centralisation is the possible expansion of local or regional tax-raising powers. These are framed as tools for flexibility and investment. But England’s fiscal reality makes additional taxation a plausible and, in many cases, likely outcome.

Regional authorities may be handed responsibilities without matching resources.

Central government is under severe financial pressure. The Treasury is unlikely to provide substantial new funding.

The likely result is that local taxes and levies could rise, often in areas least able to absorb the cost.

This is not empowerment.

It risks downloading fiscal strain onto households already struggling with living costs. Citizens may pay more while having less influence over the bodies that set those taxes.

Party Control and the Rise of Regional Governors

Regional executives are not simply administrative leaders. They are political figures whose authority derives from national party structures.

As regional governance expands, these executives increasingly function as de facto regional governors – each representing a potential “Number 10 of the North” within their region – negotiating directly with central government and overseeing large budgets.

If proportional representation or party-list systems are introduced at the regional level – a possibility discussed in several political circles – party control could intensify. Candidate selection may move further from communities and closer to party headquarters.

Local independents may struggle to compete. Citizens may find themselves voting for party lists rather than individuals they know.

This is not an expansion of democracy.

It risks becoming a consolidation of party power.

Global Governance and Public Distrust

Regional centralisation also sits within a broader global context.

International governance networks often favour larger-scale, technocratic models of administration.

Such frameworks emphasise efficiency, coordination, and strategic planning, but can do so at the expense of local autonomy.

Whether one supports or opposes these trends, the perception that power is drifting upward – toward larger units, distant executives, and global networks – contributes to public distrust.

Citizens may come to feel that decisions are being made far away, by people they did not choose directly, within systems they do not understand.

Regional centralisation amplifies that feeling.

The Manchester Question: Optics Versus Outcomes

Advocates of regional governance often point to Manchester as a success story. The city-region has made visible progress in areas such as transport branding, homelessness initiatives, and cultural identity.

But the deeper metrics are mixed:

• productivity growth has remained challenging,

• inequality remains persistent,

• housing affordability has worsened in many areas,

• transport integration remains incomplete,

• and health outcomes continue to vary sharply across neighbourhoods.

Manchester’s experience is complex. It may demonstrate the power of regional branding and strategic coordination, but it does not justify scaling up a model that simultaneously removes local councils, increases tax powers, and reduces democratic access.

Conclusion: A Democratic Architecture Being Rewritten Without Consent

England’s democratic architecture is being reshaped through regional centralisation.

This process:

• risks removing accessible local councils,

• concentrates power in regional executives,

• may expand party control,

• may introduce new tax burdens,

• proceeds without clear public consent,

• and revives a regional model that England has previously rejected when it was put directly to voters.

The narrative is empowerment.

The reality is consolidation.

The danger is not that regional centralisation might fail.

The greater danger is not failure, but success on these terms: England could wake up with fewer democratic access points, higher taxes, more insulated political elites, and a governance structure it never explicitly agreed to.

The constitutional principle remains clear:

A change of this magnitude can only be considered legitimate without a public vote if it demonstrably returns power to the people – not if it removes or distances it.

Regional centralisation risks doing the latter while presenting itself as the former.

Proportional Representation: The wrong answer to the right frustrations | And why it risks deepening the crisis its champions claim it will solve

Proportional representation has returned to British politics with the confidence of a solution whose moment has finally arrived. It is presented as the modern, fair, mathematically elegant alternative to first‑past‑the‑post – a system that appears increasingly out of step with public expectations and electoral outcomes.

In an age of shrinking majorities, falling turnout, and widespread disillusionment, PR offers a seductive promise: a democracy where every vote counts and every voice is heard.

But the appeal of PR rests on a dangerous assumption:

That the rest of the political system is healthy enough for PR to work.

It isn’t.

And that is why PR risks making everything worse.

Because proportional representation only works in a political culture that doesn’t need it.

And the UK is nowhere near that place.

The Seductive Simplicity of PR

PR’s promise is mathematical fairness: seats that match votes, representation that mirrors the national mood, and a system where no vote is wasted.

Many inside Westminster sincerely believe this would restore legitimacy. They look at the distortions of the current system and conclude that the counting method is the problem.

But fairness in democracy is not a spreadsheet problem.

It is a relationship between voters and power.

And that relationship is already broken.

The Misunderstanding Built into Modern British Politics

Most voters believe they are choosing a party, a leader, or a national agenda. In reality, they are electing a local representative whose influence is tightly constrained by party machinery.

Over decades, the public has been conditioned to see the party as the unit of democracy – not the person, not the community, not the relationship between the two.

This conditioning didn’t happen by accident.

Parties select candidates.

Parties control messaging.

Parties whip votes.

Parties decide careers.

The logical conclusion is that the party is what matters.

PR doesn’t correct this misunderstanding.

It formalises it.

How PR Deepens Party Control

Under most forms of proportional representation, voters do not choose individuals. They choose party lists. The party decides who appears on the list, in what order, and who ultimately enters Parliament.

The voter’s role becomes even more distant.

The party’s control becomes absolute.

What is currently an informal dominance becomes a structural monopoly.

PR does not empower voters.

It empowers parties.

It does not increase accountability.

It removes it.

It does not bring politics closer to the public.

It pushes it further away.

The Technocratic Trap

PR appeals to those who want a technical fix to a cultural and moral problem. It is the kind of solution that emerges when faith in political behaviour has collapsed and the only remaining hope is to adjust the mechanism.

But the problem is not arithmetic.

The problem is behaviour, values, and the absence of genuine leadership – themes explored in The Way of Awakened Politics for Good Government.

Changing the voting system cannot compensate for a political culture that no longer knows how to lead.

Coalitions Without Consent

PR almost always produces coalition governments.

But voters rarely know before the election what coalition they are actually voting for.

This creates a democratic deficit:

  • Voters choose a party
  • Parties choose their partners after the election
  • The resulting government may have no mandate for its combined programme

This is a transparency problem that PR makes worse, not better.

Accountability Diffusion

Under PR, responsibility becomes blurred:

  • Who is responsible when things go wrong?
  • Who deserves credit when things go right?
  • Who can be removed if change is needed?

PR doesn’t just spread power – it spreads blame until it disappears.

This is a governance accountability issue that PR systems struggle with.

Party Cartelisation

Political scientists call it cartelisation:

Parties behave like a closed shop, protecting each other from outside competition.

PR accelerates this because:

  • parties become the only route into Parliament
  • party lists become the gatekeeping mechanism
  • new voices must negotiate with existing parties to gain influence

PR is not pluralistic.

It is cartel‑friendly.

The Collapse of Local Representation

One of the most damaging consequences of PR – and one of the least discussed – is the erosion of local representation.

PR breaks the link between a community and its representative. It replaces geography with ideology.

Local representation becomes symbolic rather than real.

Communities lose their voice.

Parties gain more control.

This is the opposite of what a healthy democracy requires – a theme explored in The Local Economy Governance System.

The Centralisation Paradox

PR is often sold as a way to make politics more pluralistic.

But in practice it centralises power inside party headquarters.

Why?

Because:

  • candidate selection becomes national
  • party lists are controlled centrally
  • coalition negotiations happen at the top
  • local voices are sidelined

PR strengthens the very centralisation people want to escape.

The Public Expectation Mismatch

People expect PR to:

  • reduce corruption
  • increase honesty
  • improve behaviour
  • make politics more collaborative

But none of these outcomes are guaranteed by PR.

They are cultural, not mechanical.

PR cannot deliver the behaviour people want from politics because behaviour is not created by voting systems – it is created by values.

The Legitimacy Illusion

PR creates the appearance of fairness while masking deeper unfairness:

  • party elites choose candidates
  • coalition deals override manifestos
  • voters lose the ability to remove individuals
  • accountability becomes abstract

PR does not fix legitimacy.

It manufactures the illusion of it.

Why Politicians Want PR Now

There is another dimension to this debate – one rarely acknowledged publicly.

The current political class – increasingly managerial, increasingly reactive – is not leading. It is not solving problems. It is not governing with courage or vision.

As explored in A Leadership Void in a Moment That Calls for Far More Than Westminster Politics, the political class is:

  • reactive, not proactive
  • managerial, not visionary
  • dependent on the system, not independent of it

And because it cannot lead, it is desperate for ways to shore up majorities that are wasting away through public disenfranchisement.

PR offers:

  • a way to preserve relevance
  • a way to maintain influence
  • a way to survive declining public trust
  • a way to lock in position even as legitimacy collapses

This is not about fairness.

It is about self‑preservation.

The Money‑Centric System Behind It All

The political system is in sync with a wider problem – the money‑centric, extractive economic model that is running out of road. As explored in Why MPs Can Afford to Give Away Their Salaries and Voters Can’t, the political class is insulated from the consequences of the system it defends. Voters are not.

PR becomes a tool to:

  • stabilise a political class that cannot stabilise the country
  • protect incumbents from the consequences of their own failures
  • maintain a system that benefits them but harms the public

PR is not a democratic reform.

It is a survival strategy.

The Irony at the Heart of the Debate

The uncomfortable truth is this:

If the UK had the political culture required for PR to work, PR wouldn’t feel necessary.

A healthy system would already have:

  • empowered local democracy
  • independent representatives
  • decentralised power
  • transparent institutions
  • civic responsibility
  • accountability mechanisms

In that environment, PR would be a technical detail – not a salvation narrative.

The fact that PR feels like the answer is itself a symptom of how far the system has drifted from genuine representation.

Further Reading: The Deeper Democratic Crisis

These works explore the structural, cultural, and civic issues that PR cannot fix – and that must be addressed before any voting system can deliver genuine representation:

Conclusion: PR Is Not the Answer – It Is the Distraction

The public is right to be frustrated.

The system is failing.

Representation is broken.

Accountability is weak.

Parties have too much power.

Communities have too little.

The political class is out of its depth.

The economic system is running out of road.

But PR is not the solution.

It is the false fix that diverts attention away from the real democratic crisis.

Until the deeper issues are confronted – party dominance, centralised power, establishment alignment, leadership failure, and the erosion of genuine local representation – no voting system will deliver the democracy people believe they are voting for.

PR does not change the game.

It just changes the scoreboard.

If the Borough goes, Cheltenham Must Have a Town Council

As someone who has served as a Borough Councillor (Tewkesbury), Town Councillor (Tewkesbury Town), and Parish Councillor (Ashchurch Rural), and who has long-standing ties across Gloucestershire, I find it deeply regrettable that the county and its six districts are now being pushed toward amalgamation.

The direction of travel appears clear: the creation of two unitary authorities that absorb all responsibilities currently held by the different tiers of local government.

The financial crisis facing councils is well known, and Gloucester City Council’s reported bailout only underlines the severity of the situation. But the argument that “efficiency” now requires the dissolution of district councils and the centralisation of services into large unitary bodies rings hollow. Yes, some service delivery efficiencies may exist – but they are far from the whole story.

In reality, councils have been sharing services for years. Ubico is a prime example that people local to Gloucestershire can consider: a jointly owned company delivering waste and street services across multiple authorities.

Legal services are similarly pooled between some of the different local authorities, with officers in one district often handling caseloads for several others. Shared services already exist, and they work.

What does not make sense is the idea that the councils themselves – the democratic bodies, the meetings of elected representatives – must be dissolved simply because services can be delivered jointly.

The push toward unitary authorities is not really about efficiency. It is about centralising democratic power into fewer, more distant hands. And at a time when many people already feel disconnected from those elected to represent them, this shift will only widen the gap.

The public is being told there is “no alternative”. But that is not true. There is no reason why local councils – parish, town, borough, district – cannot remain as democratic bodies and points of public contact, even if services are delivered from a centralised structure. The technology exists. The administrative cost would be modest. And the democratic value would be significant.

Fewer decision-makers do not lead to better decisions, especially when those decision-makers are further removed from the communities they serve.

It may be inevitable that Gloucestershire’s councils are amalgamated. The system has become too unwieldy, too financially fragile, and too dependent on a model that is no longer sustainable. But if Cheltenham Borough Council is abolished, we must not allow a democratic vacuum to form in its place.

A Town Council – even one with limited powers – would still provide local oversight, local accountability, and a local voice.

It would be far better than having nothing at all, especially when major decisions affecting Cheltenham may soon be made by people who do not live here, do not work here, and may have little connection to the town beyond a line on their job description.

Democracy should never be treated as an optional extra or a cost to be cut. The influence of money on public life is already too great, and the erosion of local representation only accelerates that trend.

If the Borough goes, Cheltenham must have a Town Council. And every community across Gloucestershire that loses a tier of representation must have a parish or town council to replace it.

Local democracy matters – and within this system, once lost, it is rarely restored.