The Lido Revival: A Swim Through History, Politics, and Public Health
There’s something undeniably nostalgic about lidos—those sprawling, sun-drenched outdoor pools that once dotted the UK landscape. But as I dive into the recent push by Labour MPs to resurrect these lost gems, I’m struck by how much more this story is about than just swimming. It’s a tale of social equity, climate adaptation, and the enduring power of community.
A Splash of History: Why Lidos Matter
Lidos aren’t just pools; they’re relics of a bygone era. Built in the 1930s, these art deco marvels were designed to democratize leisure. As the Fabian Society aptly puts it, they were meant for everyone—factory workers, coalminers, housewives—to enjoy a slice of summer luxury. But by the 1990s, two-thirds had vanished, victims of neglect and budget cuts.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how lidos reflect our shifting priorities. In the 1930s, public health and communal spaces were seen as investments in society. Today, they’re often viewed as luxuries we can’t afford. Personally, I think this reversal speaks volumes about our modern values—and not in a good way.
The Politics of Preservation
Enter Labour MPs like Andrew Pakes, who’s leading the charge to save lidos in his Peterborough constituency. His campaign isn’t just about nostalgia; it’s a strategic move to tie lidos to broader themes of community pride and public health. He’s even calling on water companies to foot the bill, a proposal that’s both bold and pragmatic.
But here’s where it gets interesting: lidos are becoming a political football. Penny Mordaunt, a Conservative MP, famously donned a swimsuit on TV to raise funds for a lido in her constituency. Meanwhile, Labour’s framing lidos as a symbol of social justice. If you take a step back and think about it, this bipartisan interest suggests lidos are one of the few things politicians can agree on—a rare feat in today’s polarized climate.
Climate Change and the Lido Renaissance
One thing that immediately stands out is the timing of this revival. As UK summers grow hotter, lidos are no longer just leisure spots—they’re public health necessities. The data backs this up: outdoor swimming visits surged by 30% between 2024 and 2025.
But what many people don’t realize is that lidos are also a climate adaptation strategy. They provide a low-cost, accessible way for people to cool off during heatwaves. In my opinion, this dual role—as both historical landmarks and modern solutions—is what makes lidos so compelling.
The Hidden Costs of Neglect
Here’s a detail that I find especially interesting: the cost of restoring a lido can run into the millions. Take Stroud’s art deco lido, which closed in 2025 due to a £5m refurbishment bill. It’s a stark reminder that neglect has a price tag.
What this really suggests is that saving lidos isn’t just about nostalgia—it’s about foresight. Every lido lost is a piece of history erased, a community space gone, and a potential solution to future heatwaves wasted. From my perspective, this is where the MPs’ call for water company funding makes sense. It’s not just about preserving the past; it’s about investing in the future.
The Broader Implications: Lidos as Social Equalizers
If we zoom out, lidos are more than pools—they’re symbols of equality. In the 1930s, they were designed to give working-class families access to leisure. Today, they serve a similar purpose, offering affordable relief from heatwaves.
This raises a deeper question: What does it say about our society that we’ve let so many lidos disappear? Personally, I think it reflects a broader trend of prioritizing profit over people. But the push to revive lidos offers a glimmer of hope—a reminder that public spaces still matter.
Looking Ahead: Can Lidos Make a Comeback?
The Fabian Society’s report is ambitious, proposing a legal duty for water companies to fund lidos. It’s a bold idea, but one that could work. After all, water companies profit from public resources—why not reinvest in public good?
What makes this particularly fascinating is the potential ripple effect. If lidos become a national priority, it could spark a broader conversation about public spaces. Imagine if every town had a lido, a park, a library—places where everyone, regardless of income, could gather and thrive.
Final Thoughts: A Swim Toward the Future
As I reflect on this lido revival, I’m struck by its simplicity. It’s not about reinventing the wheel—it’s about reclaiming what we’ve lost. Lidos are a testament to what’s possible when we prioritize community over commerce, history over neglect.
In my opinion, the real challenge isn’t just saving lidos—it’s changing the mindset that let them disappear in the first place. If we can do that, we’ll be swimming toward a future where public spaces aren’t just preserved but celebrated. And that, to me, is worth diving into.
