By Michael Kill, CEO, Night Time Industries Association
The debate around Westminster’s proposed licensing approach in Soho has become dominated by one phrase: “vertical drinking”.
It is an extraordinary expression when you think about it. Somehow, the simple act of standing with a drink in a London pub has become the focal point of a national conversation.
But while the headlines have inevitably concentrated on whether customers should be sitting or standing, the real issue is much bigger.
This is about how we manage one of the world’s great cities after dark. It is about how we balance the legitimate needs of residents with the economic, social and cultural importance of hospitality and nightlife. And ultimately it asks a fairly fundamental question: what do we actually want places such as Soho to be?
London has been wrestling with questions like these for centuries.
The Gin Acts of the 18th century attempted to control a rapidly expanding drinking culture and the social problems associated with it. Victorian licensing legislation brought further regulation of where, when and under what conditions alcohol could be sold. More recently, the Licensing Act 2003 created the framework within which venues operate today, balancing the freedom to trade with responsibilities around crime and disorder, public safety, nuisance and the protection of children.
The circumstances have changed enormously, but the underlying tension is remarkably familiar.
Cities want the economic and cultural benefits that come from people gathering, drinking, dancing, eating and socialising. At the same time, authorities have to deal with noise, public safety, waste, policing and the impact on people who live nearby.
None of those concerns should be dismissed. The experience of Soho after dark is very different for someone visiting for an evening and for someone trying to sleep above a busy street night after night. Residents have every right to expect authorities and businesses to take noise, antisocial behaviour and public safety seriously. Successful nightlife cannot exist in permanent conflict with the community around it.
But neither can we pretend that a neighbourhood with Soho’s particular history and role in London can operate like a quiet residential area.
That is where the current debate becomes important.
Soho is not simply a collection of licensed premises, nor is it simply a residential neighbourhood. Its pubs, clubs, restaurants, theatres, music venues, homes and LGBTQ+ spaces have coexisted, sometimes uncomfortably, over generations. Together they form an urban ecosystem that supports thousands of jobs, attracts visitors and investment, provides homes and communities, and gives London something increasingly valuable in an age when cities risk becoming homogenised: identity.
The challenge for policy is therefore not to decide which is the “real” Soho, but to manage these different uses fairly.
The danger comes when regulation begins trying to engineer behaviour rather than manage its consequences.
Whether somebody drinks a pint sitting at a table or standing beside friends is not, by itself, the measure of a well-managed city.
What matters is whether premises are professionally operated, whether streets are properly managed, whether transport works late at night, whether policing resources match demand, whether cleansing services and public toilets are available when they are needed, and whether residents have effective ways of resolving genuine problems.
These things require investment and partnership alongside effective licensing.
There is also an economic reality that cannot be ignored.
Hospitality businesses are operating under enormous pressure. Labour, energy, property and regulatory costs have risen substantially. Reducing capacity or requiring operating models built around additional table service can fundamentally change the economics of a venue.
For an independent pub or bar working on tight margins, seemingly modest licensing conditions can make the difference between viability and closure. And when longstanding venues disappear, replacing them is rarely straightforward.
London therefore needs to think carefully about cumulative impact in both directions. We quite rightly discuss the cumulative impact of licensed premises on an area. But there is also a question about the cumulative impact of losing them.
One closure may appear insignificant. A succession of closures begins to change a neighbourhood. Over time, a cultural district can lose some of the characteristics that made people want to live, work and visit there in the first place.
A modern licensing system should be capable of recognising both sides of that equation.
The Licensing Act currently centres on four objectives: preventing crime and disorder, protecting public safety, preventing public nuisance and protecting children from harm. These remain important principles.
But after more than two decades, there is a legitimate discussion to be had about whether our wider approach sufficiently recognises culture, economic vitality and the changing way global cities operate. That does not mean giving nightlife a free pass.
The best operators want safe streets, good relationships with residents and well-managed public spaces because their businesses depend upon them too. Equally, residents need confidence that genuine problems will be addressed rather than treated simply as the inevitable price of living in a busy part of central London.
What we need is proportionate, evidence-led regulation alongside proper investment in the infrastructure of the night: policing, transport, toilets, cleansing, lighting, security and effective partnership between venues, councils and communities.
The ambition should be to achieve both things: protecting the reasonable expectations of people who live in Soho while allowing the culture, hospitality and social life that make it distinctive to thrive.
Soho has survived centuries of change precisely because it has never been static, tidy or easily categorised. It is residential and commercial, cultural and chaotic, historic and constantly reinventing itself. Those tensions are not necessarily evidence that Soho has failed. They are part of what makes managing a neighbourhood like this so complicated.
The question facing policymakers should therefore be how extraordinary urban neighbourhoods can continue evolving while ensuring that the different people who share them are treated fairly.
The debate over standing and sitting may eventually pass. The bigger question will remain: how does London support a vibrant night-time city while managing its consequences well?
That requires thoughtful policy, proper infrastructure and a willingness from residents, businesses and policymakers to keep negotiating what successful city life after dark should look like.
