There's method in the madness of our chaotic capital

London's careful balancing act should be a lesson for the rest of the world

- Penny Mordaunt

At the heart of our great capital is a set of paradoxes. How can such an old city, with so much history, be so full of innovation and technology? Why is London so anonymous but so obsessed with personalities? How can one of the most densely populated cities be so green? How can it have so many ancient academic institutions at the forefront of modern science? Why does a city so typically British feel like home to global guests? How does it exist as a cohesive location when London is, in reality, a collection of communities and identities? For instance, why does it not have its own football club? Every major city in the world has a football club Madrid, Munich, Milan, even Moscow, but not London. One third of the Premier League's clubs are here, but not one bears London's name. How does such a huge global city have so many specific identities? You could ask these questions about our nation as a whole. London, in particular, reminds me of the aerodynamics of the bumble bee. It shouldn't work - but somehow it does.

The reason is that it maintains a balance of old and new, diversity and unity, tradition and tolerance, supply and demand, rich and poor, dreams and delivery; these are delicate and subtle mechanisms. Gradually, over time, it gets into your veins.

It's understandable then that a city with so many people would get used to sharing resources, transport, recreation, worship and commerce. This would, in theory, make it comfortable with a collectivist ideology.

Actually though, it isn't. London is successful because it is usually more pragmatic than political. Its success depends upon it.

A gifted city