(An entire metropolitan area is on “lockdown” l as I write this. It is surreal, tense, and really makes clear the unnatural state quiet and emptiness is to the urban.)
Twelve years ago, I was literally on the Williamsburg Bridge between Brooklyn and Manhattan as planes hit the World Trade Center towers. On Monday, I was just across the Charles River, in my office at MIT, when two explosions brought the Boston Marathon to a tragic end. Of course, there is no parallel in scale, and no attempt here to compare possible motives. What strikes me is the intense unsettlement that follows such attacks that I, as someone not directly affected by either event, felt in the long months after 9-11, and again as I biked back down Massachusetts Avenue to MIT the morning after the attacks on Monday.
Not directly affected, of course, except by the sense of collective mourning, mediated through the “city.” We all extend our sympathies when these events happen, whether we live in or near Boston, across the continent, or the ocean. But I think this feeling of acute unsettlement manifests itself specifically in the city that is attacked. It is like a fabric that is stretched and distorted, tearing at the seams. While in my own research I’m part of a team of people trying to question and dismantle the ideological distinctions between city and non-city, in everyday life this close-knit urban fabric that binds all of us in the Boston/Cambridge/Somerville/Brookline “city” seems not to be denied. It is why it is so meaningful to so many when small acts like shining a NY<3B symbol on the Brooklyn Academy of Music building.
I often think about political scientist Iris Marion Young’s exhortation, in “City Life and Difference,” that the city is potentially a place of “difference without exclusion,” and “unassimilated otherness.” That, in its ideal form, urban life offers us the chance to be different together.
That chance is threatened, of course, when targeted violence strikes the city. There were many moving accounts of people rushing towards the blasts to help, many demonstrations of sympathy and selflessness. But it’s also clear that there is increased tension, fear, suspicion. Do events like Monday’s bombings make us, on the whole, more likely to embrace difference, uncertainty, unknowing? Or do they sow seeds of fear and hate, in spite of our better judgement?
It is coming to light that among the many incredible, heroic acts on Boylston Street right after the bombing was an act of racial profiling. After the attack there were numerous calls from President Obama down not to jump to conclusions about the attacker(s) and motives. Perhaps this is commendable, but not if we realize it’s only necessary because many have jumped to conclusions in the past, to deadly effect. Instances of racism in the Boston area and elsewhere have already begun. (And more.)
This tragic event will no doubt be followed by attempts to increase policing, surveillance, and control of Boston public spaces and events. One can hardly fault the authorities, or the residents, for wanting more security. But such enforcement is unlikely to stop all attacks of this sort. Urban life is dynamic, and it is messy. Accidents are commonplace, anonymity and secrecy often desirable things in the urban, no one can know everything.
So how do we move forward? I’m left thinking that we won’t be able to stop violence in American cities, and the harm it renders to possible urban ideals as envisioned by those like I.M. Young, without a concerted effort to stop violence everywhere else. Acts of violence do not really strike me as random and senseless, even though we perpetually describe them as such. They result from anger and hate, from rational and irrational passions, instabilities, and oppressions.
I think it would be a particularly constructive thing for us (who, for the most part, aspire to progressive or liberal democratic ideals) to reject and resist increased policing, surveillance, and control of our urban spaces, and as well make a deliberate effort to undo, as much as we can, our complicity in other acts of violence, particularly that which is wrought in our name, for our supposed security –
- Like the U.S. prison system, a massive industry whose primary purpose is more and more to perpetuate intergenerational, social and spatial injustice.
- The gun violence lobby and the politicians who are part of it, so out of step with simple common sense, a bludgeoning of Democratic ideals in the name of the Constitution
- U.S. military drone strikes, ravaging Pakistan and Afghanistan and killing babies, girls and boys, women and men. Obama said, after the Boston blasts, “Any time bombs are used to target innocent civilians, it’s an act of terror.”
- Historically, the actions of the state and military in intensifying and perpetuating racial and ethnic turmoil throughout the world.
I.M. Young ends her piece with a call for democratization and empowerment at a regional urban scale. I think this is true, but we must scale up even more. A recent piece on the neoliberal market forces driving extreme global inequality made a clear point: if we are going to have a global economy, we must have global democratic oversight. So, along similar lines: in a globalized world, with globalized violence, what kind of radical, global democratization and empowerment movement must we have? How do we get there?
Friday night update:
The second suspect has apparently been caught. The most intense part of this week and these events is likely over.
Justin Davidson at New York Magazine has an interesting piece on whether a city-wide lockdown is really a good thing in this case.
Check out my short review of Anne Rademacher‘s book Reigning the River: Urban Ecologies and Political Transformation in Kathmandu published on Anthem EnviroExperts Review. Rademacher is professor of social and cultural analysis at NYU, and brings a very distinct historical and socio-ecological frame to a complex story of ecological restoration, land rights, class conflict, and power relationships that’s not necessarily unique to Nepal. Many thanks to Prof. Lawrence Susskind at MIT, who moderates this series of environmentally-themed reviews.
A few weeks ago I wrote a blog post on “The Urban Candidate(s)?” asking the questions: Who is the urban candidate? (Both.) And what are they saying about the urban? (Not so much.) I included a map overlaying Election 2008 counties on U.S. Census urbanized areas.
The day after Election Day 2012, I congratulate President Obama on a decisive win. And I update the election counties / urban areas map with a new one for Election 2012. Here it is:
* Apologies to residents of Hawaii (especially Hawaii, because you gave us Obama) and Alaska for leaving you off of this map.
It is the kind of image that puts a lump in your throat. It’s like a Turner landscape painting, but all too real, and made for the post-Millennium techno-and-climate-age. Interestingly, the photographer, Iwan Baan, may not be a household name, but he is very well known in architectural circles for his excellent architectural photography, in which he often eschews the typical tendency for formal, highly-composed, dramatically-lit spaces, usually devoid of people (or, if peopled, usually just as stylized props), for much more ephemeral, of-the-moment, sexy-and-playful, dynamic, and equally, if not more so, dramatic depictions of the lived spaces of design.
Baan has often captured the humanity, the social life, the meaning, of the best designed and non-designed spaces. It is not so surprising that he is the one to capture the human cost of Sandy, even from thousands of feet out. Not necessarily in the photo, but in our collective visceral response to it.
Thousands still reel from the impacts of Hurricane Sandy earlier this week. Yet it’s been heartening to see various mainstream voices join the chorus for serious engagement with our environmental crises. On one day alone, Nicholas Kristof of the New York Times and Bloomberg Businessweek issued strong calls for climate change engagement, and Mr. Bloomberg himself issued a late endorsement of President Obama, citing, in particular, need for immediate action after witnessing the impacts of Sandy.
A sea change in the making? Perhaps. It also indicates, in a way, the slowness, the obstinacy, of responses. In an alternate world we might be outraged that it took a hurricane for Mayor Bloomberg and others to take climate seriously. We might still be outraged now that neither U.S. major party candidate has spoken about this all election year. On this point, I don’t want to imply that they are equivalent. Romney’s appalling jokes about climate change and his promises to de-fund public disaster prevention and relief agencies should disqualify him outright from the presidency.
The disaster has also fueled calls to rebuild, and encouragingly, to rebuild more sustainably, in ways more resilient to increasingly severe weather events. This is important. Geographers like Neil Smith and many others, particularly post-Katrina, have noted that “there is no such thing as a natural disaster.” Weather events might be “natural.” Disasters are situated within social, political, economic contexts. Their impacts are conditioned by resilience, preparedness, foresight. As cities like New York focus increasing attention on sustainability – on parks, bike lanes, LEED-certified buildings, renewable energy – we should also to take a longer, broader look at the constructed geographies of urban areas, the intertwined landscapes of bio-physical and socio-economic factors.
Last year, inspired by, in particular, the work of landscape architects Anuradha Mathur and Dilip da Cunha in their studies of the Mississippi River and Mumbai, I produced a series of sectional maps of New York City, focusing on differences in terrain and elevation, and on the geographies of nature and risk. They are snapshots, and a reminder that urban areas – both “natural” parts and otherwise – are heavily constructed and re-constructed, reflecting hundreds of years of manipulation and transformation, and are immensely variegated, often not coincidentally. Excavating and building, land scrapping and land reclaiming, de-naturing/re-naturing, all produce the cities we now know and their systemic vulnerabilities. A view of such “geographic histories” is essential to the planning of future resiliencies.
To end: a shout out to two local grassroots organizations who are doing outstanding work post-hurricane: the Red Hook Initiative, a community center in Brooklyn, and CAAAV, a community organizing group in Manhattan’s Chinatown, who have taken the lead in hurricane relief efforts for their communities. They have quickly and effectively mobilized staff, friends, and volunteers to provide information, food and other necessities, and serve as coordination and information centers. Do please help them in their extraordinary efforts!
Nov 7, 2012 UPDATE: For a fresh-off-the-press map showing as-of-today Election Map 2012 overlaid on U.S. Census urban areas, go HERE.
A day after the second presidential debate, in which President Barack Obama showed some grit and feistiness, and Mitt Romney managed to be, in turn, out of sorts and offensive – a post on presidential politics and the urban.
Last weekend the New York Times ran an op-ed by historical novelist Kevin Baker. In it he tells of how Republicans have turned their back on the cities, and become the anti-urban party. Baker spins a fascinating story about the Republican urban political machines of yore, and of one Alfred E. Smith, the Democrat, school dropout, Fulton Fish Market-worker, and “quintessentially urban candidate,” who in loosing to Hoover in 1928 set the stage, according to Baker, for the great Democratic embrace of cities.
Baker draws an overly distinct line between city and suburb, and rather simplifies the politics of space and of urbanization. As he himself points out: four-fifths of Americans live in so-called “urban areas” (a specific census category, not always synonymous with popular understanding of the “urban”). If the Republicans were truly anti-urban, the matter would be quickly decided. But his point is clear. The battle for the small number of undecided voters in 2012 is not taking place in the big cities, the mythic urban centers. Indeed, Democratic Party policies are by and large more favorable for large numbers of residents of such urban centers, including state funding for infrastructural development and public amenities, health care, and housing. But, Republican policies are arguably just as good for the somewhat smaller numbers of urbanites – particularly those involved in the financial and real estate development centers of large metropolitan areas. And these are the economic sectors that have done rather well of late, even taking into account the 2008 bank meltdown.
In a sense, both parties have deserted the urban this year. Obama, who, in Feb 2009, established an Office of Urban Affairs to some excitement, has not really built on this early effort to focus more attention on the urban centers of the country. In the same way that any meaningful discussion of the environment is absent, any meaningful discussion of typically urban issues has also been set aside. This is disappointing. We are but one year from the massive uprisings of the Arab Spring and Occupy Wall Street that manifested so strongly in urban areas. Who would have thought early this year that the occupy movement would have so little to do with the late dynamics of the election? Particularly since one of the two candidates basically personifies the 1%.
Ironically, one could argue that both candidates are urban candidates, both formed and informed by the processes of urbanization that have transformed much of America and increasingly everywhere else.
Barack Obama is the “quintessentially urban candidate,” almost needless to say. He is the turn-of-the-millenium version. Raised worldly in Hawaii and Indonesia, a community organizer and civil rights attorney, scrappy Chicago politician, a person of color, mixed-race even! His celebratory election night event in Nov 2008 appropriately filled Grant Park, an urban park if ever there was one, wedged in between the Loop and Lake Michigan. Obama’s election itself did illustrate the strong support for Democratic policies among residents of large urban centers. These two maps, one of Obama 2008 counties, another of so-called “metropolitan areas” shows, to be sure, some remarkable overlap between them. The third overlay map, in particular, shows a pretty striking Obama election dominance in large urban agglomerations, whereas the Census-termed “urban clusters” frequently fall into red/McCain zones.
But in many ways Mitt Romney is as well an urban candidate. Born in Detroit (!), Romney’s history since has been resoundingly urban. Romney’s father George Romney was not only chairman and president of American Motors Corporation, thus completely steeped in Detroit’s urban glory, but also served, rather surprisingly, as secretary of HUD, the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development. Romney himself was governor of Massachusetts, 92% “urban” (U.S. Census again – fun comparison fact: Illinois “urban,” 88%), and home to some of the densest incorporated small cities, like Somerville. More importantly, however, are the vehicles of Mitt Romney’s “success.” From the raft of corporate buyouts in the late 80s and early 90s to the exploitation of Russia’s newly opened tobacco market and oft-repeated outsourcing of jobs, Bain & Company and Bain Capital’s profits hinge on the liberalization of markets and urban restructuring that are intertwined with processes of global urbanization. Fittingly, Bain Capital’s headquarters are now located in the John Hancock Tower, Boston’s glassy ode to urbanness.
The neglect of serious debate on the urban comes at a particularly critical time. As I’ve written in a previous post, cities are epicenters of inequality, in the U.S. and elsewhere, even as they are held up as pearls-in-progress of a sustainable urban future. The speed of urbanization across the world is now occurring at dizzying speed, with very-large-scale urban agglomerations becoming ever more the norm than the exception in at least three continents of the world. To invoke the oft-stated mantra that more than 50% of the world’s population now lives in cities may be just as meaningless as stating that 80% of the U.S. is urbanized. However, it is unquestionable that many, many more around the world increasingly confront fast shifting urban environments, livelihoods, and challenges. It is a luxury, and, in my opinion, a mistaken one, for U.S. presidential candidates to so easily set aside the issues of the urban. Urban policy should be a discussion of foreign policy as much as – more than – national security. U.S. policies don’t just affect U.S. cities.
The idea of the “urban” has been used to ideological ends. Then, to demonize immigrants, people of color, and those in poverty, and to write off vast swaths of urban areas previously decimated by urban renewal. And now, to pitch a kind of diverse, creative, dynamic, sustainable lifestyle, too often devoid of politics or issues of equity and justice. But the issues central to the urban remain – poverty and inequality, gentrification, uneven development, and displacement, environment and health. Forty-four years ago French sociologist Henri Lefebvre coined the “right to the city” – le droit à la ville – “a transformed and renewed right to urban life.” These days this challenge, in the U.S., is taken up by grassroots movements like the Right to the City alliance, fighting urban center to urban center for racial, economic, and environmental justice. Our elected leaders really should be part of this movement. They at the very least need to say something about it.
The Republican convention is in full swing in Tampa. It was rather funny to hear a political reporter covering the convention admit that he was, well, not in Tampa, but near Tampa. Because Tampa, like many U.S. cities, represents the kind of sprawling metallic mushiness that characterizes so much turn-of-the-Millennium neoliberal urbanization – an economic city, not a social one.
Last weekend a Salon article written by Will Doig labeled Tampa “America’s hottest mess,” focusing in particular on the privatized, disconnected urban environment there, and the extreme aversion towards public financing displayed by city and state decision makers. Governor Rick Scott nixed plans (and federal funding) for a high-speed rail system in Florida. Tampa metro area voters turned down a one-cent sales tax that would have funded a new light rail system. One result: apparently 50% of the urban core is designated for parking.
As Doig appropriately suggests, Tampa is in many ways the perfect (non)place to host the Republican convention, a harbinger of the kind of splintering urbanism that might engulf even more of urban America should the conservatives get their way this November. As much as the Tea Party-dominated right wing cares little for welfare programs, progressive taxation, public education, it also holds any kind of social or sustainable urban planning agenda in much disdain, viewing it as a kind of global conspiracy and/or UN plot to achieve a world government. (If only that were true – things would be much more interesting in the sustainability movement.)
Ironically, recent expenditures have gone into new public toilets at the Tampa airport (because, you know, Republicans love airport toilets) and new palm trees along the road to the convention. And $50 million of federal money is going towards the extreme securitization of “downtown” Tampa during the convention. This is the kind of dual-action urban cleansing – selective aesthetic sprucing up and intense security – that now dutifully precedes spectacular events like political conventions and Olympic Games.
One sentence in the Salon piece particularly caught my eye. Referring to Tampa’s penchant for unplanned, real-estate-driven development and lack of attention to public urban space, Doig writes, “This left little of the quality urbanism people now pay a premium for.”
He means, presumably, the type of urban development that has motivated a kind of resurgence of cities of late. In the U.S. the epitome of this is probably New York City, which has gone from near failure in the 70s to the much admired city of today, filled with parks, bike lanes, and farmers markets. But beyond that one city there’s been a veritable outpouring of excitement about the city, and about city life. Some suburbs have actually begun to contract, and young families now choose to stay in, or even move to, cities. (A lot of this is due to stark economic realities, not simply to shifts in preference.) Cultural media outlets, nonprofit organizations, and business groups have been quick to notice, with initiatives like the NPR Cities Project, Next American City, and even CEOs for Cities.
More than a few renown urban thinkers, legislators, business leaders, and social and environmental advocates have declared cities to be critical to our economic and environmental future. They cite the higher densities and (relatively) smaller geographic footprint that allows a correspondingly smaller carbon footprint, and the compactness that encourages walkability and social interaction, and allows a confluence of institutions like libraries and museums. This is pretty much a 180 degree turn from the prevailing view of cities in the late 19th and earth 20th centuries, when cities were popularly equated with alienation, anomie, and the 70s, when they were “inner cities” filled with crime, poverty, and so many people of color.
The new champions – simultaneously visionaries and cheerleaders – of the greatness of cities include Harvard economist Edward Glaeser, former New York City planner and current SHoP Architects partner Vishaan Chakrabarti, and Columbia sociologist and popularizer of the “Global City” in the 90s Saskia Sassen. Among them they’ve written about how cities make us smarter and richer, how a true-cost, market-based approach would lead to a healthier and greener “country of cities,” and that cities will be the “heart of our environmental future.”
This sounds great so far. I do love parks, bike lanes, and farmers markets. In full disclosure: I am a huge fan of cities. I chose a profession and academic career in which I get to think, read, and write about them basically all day, and sometimes even get to design small parts of them.
While the resurgence of cities is something mostly hopeful, something to be excited about after the meandering and formless growth that dominated the last decades, I’m still concerned. What, in fact, is the urban future that we are excited about? New York’s resurgence has been partly attributed to an astonishingly low crime rate. But this appears to come with astonishingly extreme stop-and-frisk policies to match, as well as a still-overheated and very uneven housing market. New York’s new elite urban parks, in particular, as the darlings of this development model, rely on mechanisms that in effect exchange high-ticket real estate deals for privatized “public” green space. Would any of these parks exist without the structural ability to create highly unequal cities, both spatially and economically? (I’ve written about these here and here and won’t spend more time on them at the moment.)
The “premium” Doig notes is not simply an articulate turn of phrase. It is more expensive, sometimes very much more so, to live in “quality urbanism.” And some of our favorite cities are not only dynamic, dense, and diverse places, they’ve become, in a sense, sifting machines that attract and then sort out elaborate acts of “quality urbanism” with those who can afford them, and the neglected zones of leftover spaces with the correspondingly poor and marginalized. This is not a rhetorical statement. Cities are hotbeds of inequality, and New York City is among the most unequal cities in the United States. The city revolution, so far, has not really been a social one.
Perhaps not a lot of this is new per se. Activists and scholars railed against gentrification in the 1980s. And New York’s private-public efforts have been transforming arcades and plazas since the 1960s. But what might be new is the confluence of such mechanisms of development, sharpened with new-found corporate branding and “placemaking” strategies, with political support for low taxation and correspondingly low public investments, heightened environmental advocacy, and a cultural turn towards city life. What this could mean is that those who love the (often somewhat glorified) urban lifestyle now are invited to, nay, must embrace and participate in the economic system that enable it. How many of us strenuously object to social and economic stratification? And how many of us love the High Line? Probably a huge majority, in each case. Is there a contradiction to be sorted out? Or can’t we love the urban nature splendor of the High Line and yet understand the politics and economics underlying its development?
Going back to my earlier sentence: Every city is an economic city. Some cities might be equitable social ones. How do we address this? How do we fight for the diversity, dynamism, hybridity, the possibility of cities? Do we really have a Right to the City?
I find myself conflicted at multiple levels about this. In the worst case I sense a lack of social accountability in this new love for cities, a neglect of shared ideals in the new embrace of urbanism as a way of life. I would love to hear what others think. Am I being too critical of current development patterns? Is the excitement for the urban enough to fuel actual social change?