Birmingham: the sprawling metropolis of Spaghetti Junction fame, Brutalist architecture, and canals that definitely outnumber Venice. Once, there was a website called Birmingham It’s Not Shit, a valiant effort to defend the UK’s second city from its critics. With lists of quirky reasons why Birmingham wasn’t as bad as people thought, it tried to elevate the city’s reputation above the perpetual slagging it receives from Londoners, northerners, and basically everyone else.
But now the website has morphed into Paradise Circus, and its original cheerleading has been eclipsed by a book and some sardonic reflections. Meanwhile, its founder has moved to Oxford—a fact that, let’s be honest, says it all. Let’s revisit the old optimism of “Birmingham It’s Not Shit” and examine the reasons it gave for Birmingham’s brilliance, as I get “Juvenal” and a tad “tongue in cheek” in this special edition and thirtieth article in my satirical comedic polemic series. Spoiler alert: most of that “old optimism” was tenuous bollocks.
“More Canals Than Venice”
Ah yes, the canals argument. The crown jewel of Birmingham’s defences. It’s true: Birmingham has more miles of canal than Venice. But here’s the thing—they’re canals. Not gondola-laden, Prosecco-adjacent, postcard-worthy canals. Birmingham’s are lined with crumbling bricks, disused warehouses, and the faint aroma of industrial history.
Sure, they’re functional, but “more canals than Venice” is like bragging you’ve got more roundabouts than Milton Keynes. Quantity doesn’t equal quality, and this argument is, frankly, waterlogged bollocks.
“The Balti Triangle Is World Famous”
The Balti Triangle—Birmingham’s supposed foodie paradise. And yes, the Balti was born here, but is that really something to build your cultural legacy on? Half the time, you’re eating a “Balti” served in a wok-like dish that’s more theatrical than authentic. It’s not a cuisine; it’s a marketing gimmick.
And let’s not forget the glaring reality: Indian food is better in Leicester, Bradford, and just about any kitchen in the Midlands that isn’t trying to flog you an “award-winning” curry for £15.95. World famous? Try regionally tolerable.
“Home of Spaghetti Junction”
The internet defenders of Birmingham once pointed out that Spaghetti Junction was a marvel of civil engineering. And yes, it’s impressive in a kind of dystopian, post-industrial way. But let’s be real: it’s a nightmare to navigate, an eyesore from every angle, and it’s as likely to cause existential dread as it is admiration.
The fact that this tangled mass of concrete was ever a pro for Birmingham is baffling. Calling Spaghetti Junction a selling point is classic bollocks—like saying the M25 is the “crown jewel of the South.”
“Birmingham Has the Bullring”
Another favourite argument was the Bullring, a shopping centre that redefined the city’s skyline. Sure, it’s shiny, futuristic, and home to a giant bronze bull that looks like it’s auditioning for Transformers. But step inside, and it’s just every other mall in the UK: chain stores, overpriced coffee, and the soul-draining experience of modern consumerism.
If you’re holding up a shopping centre as proof of your city’s greatness, you might want to reevaluate your priorities. The Bullring is many things, but a cultural landmark? Bollocks.
“Cadbury World and Bourneville”
Ah, the chocolate connection. Yes, Cadbury was born in Birmingham, and yes, Bourneville is a lovely little enclave of quaint Victorian charm. But Cadbury World? It’s a glorified interactive museum where you pay too much to eat subpar chocolate and queue for ages to ride a mini rollercoaster.
Meanwhile, Cadbury itself is now owned by American conglomerate Mondelez, meaning the city’s once-proud confectionery legacy is just another casualty of global capitalism. Sweet? Maybe. Significant? Bollocks.
“The Arts Scene is Vibrant”
Birmingham’s arts scene is often cited as proof of its cultural clout. And while the city has some fantastic venues—the Hippodrome, Symphony Hall, and the Ikon Gallery—calling it “vibrant” feels like a stretch. Half the time, these venues are competing with chain restaurants, dull office blocks, and streets empty by 9 PM.
For every highbrow performance, there are a hundred nights of tribute acts at dodgy clubs. Vibrant arts scene? It’s more like sporadically interesting. Another piece of cultural bollocks.
“The City of a Thousand Trades”
Birmingham’s industrial history is often romanticized: a city of makers, innovators, and proud working-class grit. But here’s the thing: those trades are mostly gone. The Jewellery Quarter might still churn out some trinkets, but the rest of Birmingham’s industry has been replaced by call centres and soulless office parks.
Living off the nostalgia of the Industrial Revolution is like a has-been footballer bragging about their glory days. Nice history, sure, but what have you done lately? Tenuous bollocks.
“The People Make It Great”
This was always the fallback: “Birmingham is great because of its people.” And yes, Brummies are generally lovely—friendly, self-deprecating, and full of dry humour. But the same could be said for people in Manchester, Liverpool, or Newcastle. It’s not unique to Birmingham; it’s a British trait.
The idea that “the people” are what makes Birmingham special is a vague, catch-all argument that reeks of desperation. Lovely people? Sure. Proof it’s not shit? More sentimental bollocks.
“The Writer Moved to Oxford”
And here’s the pièce de résistance: the guy who championed “Birmingham It’s Not Shit” moved to Oxford. OXFORD. The archetypal posh city of dreaming spires and academic elitism. If Birmingham truly wasn’t shit, wouldn’t he have stayed?
If the creator of the website left for pastures posher, what does that tell you? It’s the ultimate proof that even the most loyal defenders of the city eventually give up the act.
Conclusion: Birmingham Is… Something
Birmingham is many things—big, messy, industrial, and occasionally charming. But let’s not pretend it’s a utopia of canals, chocolate, and vibrant culture. For every good curry, there’s a bad traffic jam. For every interesting venue, there are a thousand concrete slabs.
The truth? Birmingham is neither amazing nor awful. It’s a city, like any other, with its quirks, flaws, and occasional triumphs. But the arguments once made on Birmingham It’s Not Shit? Mostly bollocks.