Do you live somewhere that boasts a magnificent municipal clock — a timepiece that anyone passing by can look up to, and check that they’re nicely on time for their next appointment? A vast clockface on the side of the town hall, perhaps; or a golden clocktower standing tall above the shopping streets…a landmark under which to meet friends?

OK, good. The next question is: does that clock actually work? 

If its hands have come to a solid halt; or it’s running at a dogged twenty minutes behind time; or its rusted chimes, once mellifluous, now sound more like the rasping call of an imperilled frog, the chances are that it’s been logged on the Stopped Clocks website.

Here you can see which clocks near you have fallen into disrepair; or check the time, which is delivered to you along with an apposite poem.  

The site is the work of Alfie Dennen, who describes himself as “somewhere between a technologist and an activist — with a tendency towards action over academics”.

It’s not entirely out of character, as he explains: “I’ve been building things for the web that blend activism and tech since the late nineties: for example We’re Not Afraid was a project that spoke to London’s — certainly my — defiance after the bomb attacks of 7/7; and Bus Tops was a project for the 2012 Cultural Olympiad which aimed to democratise both access to and the creation of public art.”

Nor has the project sprung up overnight. It all began with Alfie’s realisation that he could become the clock-winder that kept his own local clocktower, in North London’s Caledonian Park, ticking.

“Restarting the Cally clock in 2012 cemented for me that both documenting, and hopefully one day restoring, public clocks was a worthwhile thing to spend some significant portion of my life doing.”

Now, this is a very mySociety-type project, blending coding, community, and a sense of shared responsibility. We probably would have written about it anyway. But also, in gathering the data he needed, Alfie made substantial use not just of Freedom of Information through our WhatDoTheyKnow Pro service, but also our MapIt points-to-boundaries software — so we have all the more reason to ask him all about it.

To begin with, how did he realise that FOI might be a good tool to help with the site?

As you’ll see if you click around, the project crowdsources information — so if you know of a local clock that hasn’t been included, you can add it yourself. To identify which council area they sit within (see the map page here), Alfie had been using MapIt to generate boundary information.That gave him a vague awareness of mySociety and our other services, including WhatDoTheyKnow.

“I’d never used FOI before, but I realised that it’d be a great way to get baseline data over and above the data I can gather about stopped clocks directly — given that walking every street in the UK is a bit out of my current comfort zone!

“When I went to look at WhatDoTheyKnow properly, I released that I could send FOI requests in a batch, and that got me super enthused. Suddenly the looming month-long period of finding spare time to do them one by one disappeared! WhatDoTheyKnow Pro’s batch process, and clear interface to manage status as they were responded to, has been such a useful tool for me.”

Great — so, having sent off lots of requests, has Alfie seen any responses yet?

“The deadline for responses was the 21 November for most of the requests, but there’s still hope that some more will come in. 

“So far, of the 308 councils I contacted, 107 have given substantive responses. 70 councils responded to say they held “no information” and 113 are delayed or still pending. Between them, they identified 231 council-managed clocks, of which 175 are working, 34 have stopped, and 22 have an unknown status. 

“So about 15% of council-managed clocks are stopped, which honestly is better than I expected. But here’s the thing that really stood out: when I cross-referenced this with my database of 243 stopped clocks, it turns out that only about 40 are actually council-managed. The vast majority (so far) — 84% — are outside of the scope of Freedom of Information as they are in private hands, or owned by churches, or other bodies that used to be public but aren’t any more. In this sense, privatisation has created a clear accountability gap.

“The responses have varied greatly, which is interesting in itself. Some councils sent back detailed spreadsheets detailing every clock they manage, with maintenance schedules, budgets  — the lot. Some look after lots of clocks, while others have none at all — apparently. Only 6.4% of councils could tell us what they spend on clock maintenance. Of these, the average maintenance cost was £2,929/year.

So, curiosity aside, how will all this data be put to use?

“A big part of why I’ve been doing this foundational research through FOI requests is to provide a backbone to a book I’m writing, which looks at the last 45 years of austerity in the UK through the somehow very human lens of stopped public clocks. 

“Yes, stopped clocks are a small thing in the round when we look at all the issues facing our communities, cities and civic spaces today.

“But they’re also the perfect way to talk to people about how they feel about their town, their neighbourhood, their city. Ultimately this is my main aim: reaching people where they are to talk about re-engaging with our civic space, coming together and understanding each other and our built spaces in ways we once did but have lost sight of.

“The civic infrastructure which once supported the maintenance of public clocks has been systematically stripped away through a combination of privatisation and austerity dating back to 1979. 

“But I wanted the data to be useful beyond just the book, so I’ve built it into the Stopped Clocks website as an interactive policy tab. You can see the map of all FOI-tagged clocks, filter by ownership type, and read through the timeline of disinvestment.

“More practically, it means when someone finds a stopped clock in their town and wonders, “who’s supposed to be looking after this?”, maybe they will find the answer on the site. And if they want to campaign to get it fixed, they’ve got evidence: council responses, maintenance data, the broader context of how we got here.”

Each clock boasts a number of tags, so for example you can see which data came through FOI requests, and which council area they’re in — that part is thanks to MapIt.

“I’m also tagging clocks with their ownership type, which is a somewhat manual process; and whether they’re on listed buildings, using the Historic England API. 

“Tagging lets us start seeing clearer patterns, like how Lottery-funded church restorations from the 90s are failing on a very predictable timeline, or how privatised civic buildings — former town halls, libraries — now in commercial hands are disproportionately neglected.”

And so finally, what plans does Alfie have for the project? Presumably he has a strong incentive to avoid the irony of its becoming an untended asset itself.

“I can see a path towards a Stopped Clocks charitable foundation that does two things at once: gets clocks running again, and uses that process to rebuild civic engagement at the local level. 

“Because here’s what happens when you try to fix a stopped clock: you immediately find out who owns it, who’s responsible for it, why it stopped, why nobody’s fixed it. And that leads you straight into conversations about council budgets, privatised buildings, who decides what gets maintained and what doesn’t.

“It’s a way into talking about austerity and privatisation that doesn’t feel abstract or preachy. It’s just there, on the town hall, stopped. 

“People care about these things; they notice them every day, they remember when they worked. That gives you something to organise around that’s tangible and achievable. 

“Fix one clock, learn how the system works — or doesn’t; build the relationships and knowledge to tackle the next one.”

Many thanks to Alfie for talking to us about this project: we hope it inspires others to think differently about the assets that make up our public domain — perhaps even to ask if you can be the person who winds your own local clock.

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Image: Kelsey Todd