Underground resistance

Four years late and well over budget, of course the Lizzie line won an award, writes Helen Coffey but it doesn’t deserve it

- Helen Coffey

The Elizabeth line might just be the London Underground equivalent of an Oxford PPE graduate in the Tory cabinet: ie, a masterclass in failing upwards.

I say this because the newest Tube line, which finally opened in 2022 four years late and laughably over budget, just won an award. And not just any award – a big, illustrious award. The not-so-humble Lizzie line nabbed the Riba Stirling Prize, an annual tip-of-the-cap for architecture bestowed upon the best building in the UK. The “best building in the UK” – their words, not mine.

The first eyebrow-raising element of all this is, clearly, the term “building”. The Elizabeth line – transporting 700,000 people a day, and comprising 62 miles of track and 26 miles of tunnels along a route that calls in at 41 stops as it traverses from Reading and Heathrow airport in the west to Shenfield and Abbey Wood in the east – is an indisputable feat of engineering. But a feat of architecture? With the best will in the world, I’ve never looked at the whole premise and thought, “Gosh, what an impressive... building.”

Even as I’ve descended underground to speed off on the purple line, named in honour of and officially opened by the late Queen Elizabeth II, I can’t say I’ve ever really noticed the design, as such. No shade thrown: surely that’s the point when it comes to infrastructure serving as workaday a purpose as public transport? To remain inconspicuous, non-controversial, plain?

London Underground lines exude, for the most part, a commendably distraction-free, “Nothing to see here!” energy. The focus is, quite rightly, on function and an uncompromising commitment to clarity – enabling the millions of people using it every day to navigate their way around the 272-stop network and get to where they want to go.