
On Wednesday morning, news broke that the planning inspectorate had rejected plans to convert the Aylesham centre — a tired 1980s shopping centre and car park on Rye Lane in Peckham — into a sprawling complex of 867 homes.
Southwark’s announcement of their delight at the decision morphed into a fierce dispute, one that appeared to go to the core of London’s much-discussed inability to construct new homes.
The Aylesham Centre ruling is currently the focal point of a conflict between local resistance and London’s urgent housing needs.
The Planning Inspectorate rejected a proposal to replace Peckham’s ageing 1980s shopping centre and car park with 867 homes, a large mixed-use development, and new public spaces and retail.
Southwark Council publicly celebrated the rejection, which is uncommon because councils usually want large developments approved for housing targets and investment.
What started as a simple announcement quickly turned into a fierce argument about NIMBY vs YIMBY politics (“Not in my backyard” vs “Yes in my backyard”), who gets to shape neighbourhoods, long-term residents vs developers vs planners, and London’s chronic housing shortage. The city needs tens of thousands of new homes per year.
Peckham is a symbolic battleground for this because people weren’t just arguing about this development; they were arguing about what London should be.
However, the Aylesham Centre redevelopment became a proxy for bigger tensions.
Peckham residents claimed the scheme was too tall, too dense, and out of character. Housing advocates argued that blocking 867 homes in a housing crisis is inexcusable.
Critics said the “affordable” homes weren’t truly affordable, and developers argued the scheme met viability rules.
Many Londoners believe that big developers put their own interests ahead of those of the community, and the UK’s planning system is notoriously slow, adversarial, and politically fraught; this case has become a symbol of that dysfunction.
This demonstrates how a municipal planning decision may quickly turn into a contentious political issue.
If the Aylesham Centre were converted, the scheme would accelerate displacement, the new homes would be unaffordable to existing residents, and Peckham’s cultural uniqueness would be eroded.
Residents have argued that the towers would be too tall for Rye Lane, they would be overbearing, and incompatible with the area’s low-rise Victorian/Edwardian fabric.
Of course, over many years, we are going to see more of these high-rise flats in London unless something dramatic changes in planning policy, otherwise London is on track to see more high-rise flats, not fewer, but the where, why, and how many are more complex, and that’s where the real story is.
London presently has over 500 tall buildings (20+ storeys) in the development pipeline, either proposed, approved, or under construction. This includes clusters in Nine Elms/Vauxhall, Stratford and the Olympic Park, Canary Wharf and Isle of Dogs, Old Kent Road, Brent Cross, Croydon and Colindale/Hendon.
Even if the Mayor tightened rules tomorrow, many of these are already approved and will be built.
So, why do these high-rises keep getting pushed? Well, London needs 66,000 new homes a year but delivers far fewer, and developers claim that tall buildings are the only way to hit numbers on limited land.
However, if councils keep pushing high-rise blocks without designing them around disabled and older residents, then those residents will be set up to fail, because the practice in the UK is to build first and think about accessibility afterwards, which is precisely why so many disabled people end up trapped in their own homes.
For disabled and elderly people, a lift isn’t a convenience — it’s the only way in and out. When lifts break, and they do, often for days, these people miss vital medical appointments, can’t shop for food, become socially isolated, and are effectively incarcerated in their own homes.
This, of course, already happens in existing tower blocks across London, Manchester, Birmingham, et cetera, and adding more high-rise flats replicates the same harm.
The UK still has no universal, enforceable requirement for evacuation chairs, refuge points, trained staff or personal emergency evacuation plans (PEEPs), and after Grenfell, disabled residents repeatedly warned that they had no safe way out, and many councils still haven’t fixed this.
If you build high-rise and you put disabled and elderly people in them and there is no evacuation plan, then you are going to have deaths when there is a fire, so clearly nothing has been learned from Grenfell because, quite honestly, they don’t care.
High-rise flats seldom meet the requirements of people with mobility or sensory impairments. The new build might argue they are ‘accessible’, but in fact, the doorways are too narrow, bathrooms aren’t adaptable, kitchens aren’t designed for wheelchair users, corridors are cramped, soundproofing is (bad for neurodivergent residents), and there’s no space for mobility equipment.
We might not be a Nazi regime, and there is no UK government policy, proposal, or legal mechanism aimed at locking away disabled or elderly people, well, not to the naked eye, but the feeling is real and across-the-board because of the way systems actually treat people, and that deserves to be taken seriously rather than being dismissed.
Across the last decade, disabled and older people have encountered cuts to social care, hostile benefits assessments, a lack of accessible housing, transport that remains inaccessible, medical professionals undertrained in disability, austerity policies that disproportionately hit disabled people, and a political narrative that frames people as ‘economically inactive.’
None of this is ‘locking people away,’ but it does create a system where disabled and older people are pushed out of public life, isolated at home, denied independence, treated as afterthoughts, and blamed for needing support.
That’s a feeling of being sidelined or erased, and the older you get, the support shrinks even further because the system assumes you should just ‘cope.’
So, why does it feel like society wants disabled and elderly people out of sight? Well, this is the part that people rarely say out loud, so I will.
Accessibility is still optional, not standard; housing is built for the mythical ‘average’ person, public spaces are designed without disabled bodies in mind, younger generations aren’t taught disability rights history, and non-disabled people still hold the power to determine what is ‘reasonable.’
When a society invariably designs around you, it communicates: “We didn’t think of you. You’re not part of the default.”
That’s not the same as wanting to lock people away — but it is a form of structural exclusion.










