Why must we worry about London’s success?

For a long time my view of the Imperial Capital — as, like other Scots, I am still prone to considering London — was borrowed from Joseph Conrad’s description of its riverside: ‘It is a thing grown up, not made. It recalls a jungle by the confused, varied and impenetrable aspect of the buildings that line the shore, not according to a planned purpose, but as if sprung up by accident from scattered seeds. Like the matted growth of bushes and creepers veiling the silent depths of an unexplored wilderness, they hide the depths of London’s infinitely varied, vigorous, seething life.’ London was mysterious, huge and confusing. I disliked it intensely.

Times change. London seems a place transformed these days. It fizzes. By the end of next year, it is estimated, more than 8.6 million people will live in London — more than at any point in its history. It seems typically British that more time is spent worrying about this obvious success than celebrating it.