When the news broke in the autumn of 2023 that the blast furnaces at the steelworks in Port Talbot, south Wales, were closing, the headlines were laced with emotion: „devastating,“ „fear,“ „end of an era.“ For many in the town, it wasn’t just the loss of 3,000 jobs, it was as though part of the town’s identity was being taken away.
When the news broke in the autumn of 2023 that the blast furnaces at the steelworks in Port Talbot, south Wales, were closing, the headlines were laced with emotion: „devastating“, „fear“, „end of an era.“ For many in the town, it wasn’t just the loss of 3,000 jobs, it was as though part of the town’s identity was being taken away.
Such emotional reactions are not just nostalgia or sentimentality. They’re a powerful example of what researchers call „place attachment“, the deep, often unspoken bonds we form with the places that shape our lives.
My own research has explored how people in Newport formed emotional attachments to the former Llanwern steelworks from when it was built in the 1960s.
We develop attachment to the places where we grow up, live, work and socialize. They could be your childhood street, the corner shop where you bought sweets, or the estate where you raised your children. These places hold memories, routines and milestones.
But our attachments aren’t just personal. As we age, they can become shared and tied to a town, a city, or a region. In south Wales, where industries like coal and steel once shaped generations, those attachments are often linked to pride, identity and social connection.
Sometimes, they’re hopeful, but other times they carry a sense of loss.
In September 2024, the giant blast furnaces in Port Talbot were shut down, marking the end of traditional steelmaking in the town. A new, greener arc furnace is being built in its place, but the transition has brought fear and uncertainty.
