There is a quality of continental life that one feels immediately upon stepping into Milan, Paris, or Madrid: the ease with which outdoor tables and chairs inhabit the pavement. They are not an adjunct, still less a tolerated intrusion, but an accepted part of the civic fabric. They contribute to the city’s rhythm, providing atmosphere, commerce, and community without ever appearing to need justification.

London, though increasingly vibrant, remains hesitant. The pavement licensing regime, a necessary adjunct to the Licensing Act 2003, introduced during the pandemic and hailed as a lifeline for hospitality, has too often become a tangle of bureaucracy. What was intended as facilitation has drifted into deterrence.

The Regime’s Shortcomings

– Short-termism: Licences are commonly granted for a year or less, requiring constant renewal and creating uncertainty for operators who would otherwise invest in outdoor space.

– Inconsistency: Boroughs adopt divergent approaches. In one, the process may be swift; in another, labyrinthine. The absence of uniformity undermines confidence and fairness.

– Presumption against: Too often, the underlying cultural attitude is suspicion. Applications are treated as intrusions to be justified rather than contributions to be welcomed.

The effect is cumulative: operators weary of the process, investment held back, and the public deprived of what should be a natural enhancement to city life. Dickens, with his unerring eye for irony, might have observed that “the law is a ass” when it suppresses precisely what it purports to regulate.

The Missed Opportunity
Outdoor terraces are more than commercial amenities. They are social spaces that enliven streets, increase footfall, and encourage the kind of casual sociability that modern cities so badly need. In Milan, they are as uncontroversial as lampposts. In London, they remain precarious – a privilege rather than a presumption.

None of this is to suggest that safety, accessibility, or the interests of residents should be neglected. Pedestrian routes must remain clear; noise must be managed; balance is essential. But the starting point should be one of encouragement, not grudging toleration.

A Call for Change
If London aspires to retain its reputation as a world city, it must recast its policy. Outdoor seating should be administered with clarity, consistency, and conviction. Licensing should not be a brake on civic life but a means of enabling it.

Milan shows us what is possible: a cityscape where outdoor hospitality is natural, unforced, and woven into the character of the streets. London must ask itself a simple question: will it remain a place where a street terrace feels like an indulgence precariously granted, or will it embrace them as the civilised necessity they are?

In Practice
Those who work daily with the regime know the reality: applications can be contested, renewals uncertain, objections unpredictable. The skill lies in navigating a system that was intended to encourage but too often discourages. Done well, the process can transform an apparent regulatory burden into a practical opportunity.