Bedford should be a picturesque town celebrated for its literary history—but these days, it’s the unsettling scenes around town center that are drawing most attention.
A statue of John Bunyan, the famed author of The Pilgrim’s Progress, stands proudly at one end of the high street—ironically, just steps away from the prison where he wrote his landmark work.
Yet today, his once-revered hometown feels more like a battleground against anti‑social behaviour.
Public Spaces Overrun by Addiction and Harassment
By mid-afternoon, benches near the town’s green statue are occupied by as many as 20 or 30 people struggling with addiction—people shouting, fighting, or harassing pedestrians, according to local businessman Peter McCormack.
Near the bus station, aggressive panhandling is now normal.
The pedestrian precinct has become a maze of rough sleepers and personal belongings cluttering doorways.
Desolate Backstreets and Unsafe Corners
In a courtyard behind McCormack’s coffee shop, drug use is evident.
He points out burnt-out mattresses, piles of rubbish, and even discarded needles.
This central area of Bedford is now plagued by e‑bike dealers speeding through, people shouting in faces, drug addicts shooting up in stairwells, and alcoholics lounging in parks.
The result? An atmosphere that scares off shoppers and close community life.
Once-Thriving Centre Becomes Empty Shell
Despite being a commuter town with around 185,000 residents—just a 40-minute train ride from London—Bedford’s centre is suffering serious decline.
Empty shops and closed arcades are now common, while big names like Debenhams, Marks & Spencer, and The Body Shop have all departed.
Graffiti mars boarded-up windows, most bank branches have shut, and the grand old police station has been replaced by a tiny “community hub.”
Local Entrepreneur Takes Action with Private Patrols
McCormack—from hosting a top crypto podcast to investing heavily in local ventures—isn’t waiting on authorities.
He’s hired ten private security guards every Saturday in August to patrol Bedford’s streets, armed with body cameras and radios.
Their mission? Deter drug use, harassment, theft, and public drunkenness—even act as visible “scarecrows” to make the town feel safer and attract shoppers back.
A Vision to Revive Bedford’s Economy
McCormack argues that if residents felt safer, they’d spend more locally.
He even did the math: if half the town’s people spent an extra £10 each week shifting their spending from London or Cambridge to Bedford, that’s an extra £50 million a year circulating locally.
His hope: start small with security and grow bigger into a transformation.
A Polarizing Project and Public Pushback
Not everyone is sold. Some accuse McCormack of painting a negative picture of Bedford, and the county’s Police and Crime Commissioner called his chartered patrols a “political stunt.”
He insisted that maintaining safety is a public sector duty, not a private venture.
McCormack’s response on social media was characteristically blunt: “You are a weak man and you should resign.”
His Unconventional Journey to Local Protector
McCormack’s story is far from normal. Raised in a working-class family, he turned entrepreneurial at a young age—selling stickers, building websites, and launching a successful agency.
But a personal spiral in 2014 involving cocaine addiction and a hospital scare became a turning point.
He rebuilt himself, started the What Bitcoin Did podcast, became immensely successful in crypto, and eventually helped resurrect local football club Bedford FC as “Real Bedford,” a crypto-powered club now backed by the Winklevoss twins.
What’s Ahead for Bedford?
McCormack sees two futures for his town: one like Stoke-on-Trent—dull and declining—or one like Bath—vibrant and growing.
He’s betting on the latter. While ten private security guards won’t fix every problem overnight, he believes it’s a start.
As he says, “If the police won’t fix it, I will.” Whether his intervention becomes a model or a flash in the pan remains to be seen—but Bedford is now his experiment in local revitalization.
