Manchester's boom is real, but who has it actually been built for?
- Christabelle Quaynor
- 3 days ago
- 5 min read
Manchester’s development boom
What’s become the face of Manchester? Skyscrapers and cranes.
For many, it’s no surprise that Manchester is looking to become Europe’s fourth tallest city. Although Britain is becoming increasingly politically divided, we can all unanimously agree that we need more housing and economic growth. Manchester (or “Manchattan”) seems to be ticking a lot of those boxes. It’s become the fastest-growing economy in the UK, delivered 31% of its 2032 housing target (more on that later), is home to one of Europe’s largest student campuses, has a vibrant, internationally renowned cultural scene (highlighted by it's recent hosting of both the MOBO Awards and the BRIT Awards in 2026), and is home to many major employers, including the BBC and the Civil Service. In fact, there has been a historical shift of more people relocating from London to Manchester than the other way around, due to soaring capital living costs and a surge in high-value regional job opportunities.
“Buzz is the right word for a city that has a bee as its emblem, and the numbers behind the anecdotes are solid.” – Faisal Islam, BBC economics editor.
All roads lead to Manchester
Manchester’s story stretches back to the 17th century. The city began as a modest town but soon became heavily involved in the slave trade, emerging as the engine room of the British Empire. By the 19th century, the nickname 'Cottonopolis' entered public consciousness and, as the world's first industrial city, Manchester became an archetype. The raw material fuelling Manchester's mills was extracted through colonial exploitation from slavery, colonisation, and exploitation. The wealth accumulated during this era laid the physical and economic foundations of the city we see today.
The 1996 IRA bombing of Manchester city centre, though devastating, became an unlikely catalyst for regeneration. The rebuilding effort accelerated investment in infrastructure by expanding the tram network, improving road connections, and attracting new development that might otherwise have taken decades to materialise. Central to Manchester's transformation was the expansion of its tram network, the Metrolink, which grew from a single line connecting a handful of stops into one of the largest light rail systems in the UK. Transport can revolutionise housing by opening underserved areas to development, allowing infrastructure and new homes to be built in tandem. However, it can also increase rents and skyrocket property values, as seen with the Elizabeth Line in London, where connectivity came at the cost of affordability for existing residents. Manchester's universities also evolved significantly over this period, attracting students and researchers from across the world and feeding graduate talent directly into the local economy. This is a cycle of investment that has compounded over decades. Under Burnham's leadership, Manchester’s transport system, the Bee Network, has been significantly expanded and improved, introducing a free city-centre bus service, a £2 flat fare, and better accessibility for people with disabilities.
As a city with a strong economy, transport infrastructure, housebuilding, culture, investment, and a vision for the future, it has become a desirable place to live.
But for whom?
“Home to Alan Turing, often deemed 'the father of modern computing', Manchester has always been a city that reinvents itself.”
Community and housing
Manchester's growth is real, but growth and affordability are not the same thing. House prices have risen 63% in the past decade. Rents have followed. The question is whether the people who built Manchester's revival, and those who need housing the most, can still afford to live there. The median salary in Manchester (£32,704) is two-thirds of London's (£49,455), yet the cost gap on rent is narrowing much faster than the income gap.
In a 2018 study, 55% of all private rented sector units in the pipeline in Manchester involved at least some international finance. Dr Jon Silver, a university researcher in urban geography and a prominent critic of Manchester’s property-led regeneration, describes overseas investors as coming "to extract from the city... not to make it a better place.”
When Andy Burnham became Mayor in 2017, housing was central to his pitch. He famously pledged to end rough sleeping by 2020, build 10,000 council homes by 2028, and redirect the housing investment fund away from luxury city centre schemes toward affordable homes.
Rough sleeping in Greater Manchester has risen for the fourth year in a row. Only 611 social rent homes were completed across Greater Manchester in 2024/25 for the 10,000 council homes pledge. The £1.2bn Greater Manchester Housing Investment Loans Fund (GMHILF) has indeed delivered 11,000 new homes, but an independent evaluation revealed that only about 500 (under 5%) were classified as affordable housing. The housing crisis is worsening in Manchester, with housing prices in the city increasing faster than anywhere else in the UK.
Manchester's changing identity is a growing concern for Mancunians, a shift some locals refer to as the "Londonification" of the city, marked by £1,200 studio flats, padel clubs, saunas and £199 gym memberships. One example is Miles Platting, a historically lower income Victorian district known by that name for generations, which has been rebranded as New Islington by developers. But rebranding does not address deep-rooted socioeconomic inequalities: there is an 11-year life expectancy gap between Miles Platting and Piccadilly, two areas just a 15 minute walk apart from each other. And, despite central Manchester’s boom, regions in Greater Manchester with a significant Black and Minoritised Ethnic presence (such as Oldham, Tameside, and Rochdale) have barely benefited from the growth.
Getting priced out is not unique to Burnham's Manchester. It’s a familiar pattern playing out across the country. Pledges by Labour and the Conservatives promise rapid housing building with ambitious targets during their honeymoon stage which mostly never materialises. And when it does, affordable housing is treated like a footnote. When regeneration and development is driven by profit, locals pay the emotional and economic price of being priced out. Life becomes unaffordable. Transport, housing, food, and leisure become more out of reach, pushing out long term residents and leaving the wealthier newcomers to reshape the area's identity.
That said, Burnham isn't solely responsible. Regeneration and gentrification often arrive together and foreign investment, university expansion, and an influx of young professionals have all driven up demand and reshaped who these areas are for. As in many other places across the UK undergoing rapid change, there's real disagreement between residents who welcome it (more openness, more amenities, better transport) and those who feel priced out and unwelcome (less familiarity, higher prices, risk of being displaced). The question is whether mayoral power was used to push back against that tide, or to accommodate it.
As Burnham positions himself for national leadership by pledging the biggest council housebuilding programme since the post-war era, we hope that this time the promises are kept. His push for greater devolution, which is giving local regions more control over planning, land use, and housing investment, is a meaningful shift in the right direction. However, devolution alone won't fix the crisis. We need a genuine break from the model that has treated housing as a commodity rather than a human need, and a return to something more fundamental. We need structural change that moves places away from transitional, consumption-driven development, towards settled communities with genuinely affordable homes.