June 21st, 2024
 

During one of the semi-structured interviews, an interviewee reflected on the link between decay and the perception of safety in urban spaces. Their words resonated with me. I too have felt that odd sense of both safety and unease when spending time around decaying corners of Paisley. It made me think about how attention to the so-called “peripheral” spaces could make everyday environments safer, and even more enjoyable.
 

On my cycling trips, I began to notice details. Almost every derelict or vacant site I visited had a lamppost nearby. Poor lighting is often cited as a cause for fear in public spaces, but here, the lamps were already present. This suggested that insecurity wasn’t necessarily about light, but about something else—about use, care, and presence.
 

Many of these sites were pressed up against main roads. In at least eleven cases, I couldn’t take a photograph without capturing a passing car. In the videos I recorded, the hum of traffic and the drone of planes became a constant backdrop. These spaces were not tucked away; they were woven into the fabric of daily movement.
 

Graffiti tags and scattered litter spoke of neglect, while three of the derelict sites turned out to be former car parks—curious, since workshop participants had often mentioned the need for more parking as a town asset. Several of the spaces sat beside bus stops or billboards. In those spots, graffiti, rubbish and physical decay pressed close to points of public gathering. For residents waiting for buses, such surroundings could quietly amplify a sense of unease.
 

It struck me that improving these sites is not simply about repairing broken buildings. It is about reimagining how they sit within their surroundings, how they are used, and how they can serve more than one purpose. With thoughtful design and creative reuse, these neglected places could become safer, more inviting, and more deeply connected to the lives of the people who move through them every day.