Singing in the Noise

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
By examining how wildlife responds to their urban ambient environment, can we develop a better understanding of how to create cities that are healthier for people too?”

Urbanization not only changes the landscape structure due to land cover change, fragmentation of natural habitats, and creation of artificial habitats, it also changes the physical patterns of the environment: temperature, wind currents, rain patterns, light levels, or noise levels. For example, urbanization increases average temperature by between 3°C and 5°C, in comparison to nearby rural or natural areas, because of the lack of green areas and the excess of concrete and sealed structures that capture and keep the heat during the day. This phenomenon, the difference in temperature among adjacent areas or urban and non-urban, is called the heat island effect.

Urbanization also increases light levels at night, potentially changing the natural rhythm of activity of animals, such as periods of sleep and wakefulness. Higher light levels are also a cause of poor sleep quality among people in cities. Wind currents and rain patterns change more in cities with tall buildings. Tall buildings serve as barriers against the wind close to the ground, but increase the wind speeds at the building’s top; producing surface wind currents that are slow in some areas and fast in others, and higher winds moving outside the city area push out the rains, too.

Figure 1. House Wren (Troglodytes aedon) male singing inside a house garage in San José city, Costa Rica. This species inhabit from forest edges to urban gardens and parks. Photo: Mauricio Calderon/fotonaturaleza.net.

And cities are noisy places due to automobile motors, industrial motors, and people. The majority of these sounds occur at low frequencies below 5,000 Hz (humans hear between 200 and 20,000 Hz), and affect the sound communication of animals that produce vocalization below 5,000 Hz such as: insects (e.g., crickets), amphibians (e.g., frogs and toads), birds (e.g., robins, wrens, pigeons, sparrows, or owls), and mammals (e.g., squirrels, monkeys, and wolves). If this noise level means we must talk louder when conversing with a friend on the street or by cell phone, we need to be concerned with how the noise pollution levels we are produce affect the animals that inhabit or survive in or around urban environments. Some species can adapt and survive the effects of noise pollution, however others will probably be extinct from cities because they cannot communicate effectively, although they have the right habitats to survive.

All of these ways in which cities alter the environment also affect how people and animals behave. Here I just want to address the effect of noise on animals’ sound communication, including examples of how noise produces changes in the behavior of animals and changes to the characteristics of songs that they produce either spontaneously or over time. It is important to understand how animals adapt or avoid those noise levels, because it could give us information on how we are changing the noise environment in the cities and if those changes might affect us too.

The study of the noise pollution on animal communication gained much attention in 2003 when Hans Slabbekoorn and Margriet Peet published their investigation titled “Birds sing at a higher pitch in urban noise” in the journal Nature. They showed that Great Tits (Parus major) that inhabit urban areas sing songs with higher minimum frequency and the value of this frequency increased when noise levels increased. In terms of a human voice, this is analogous to a city dweller with a deep voice (e.g., bass, baritone, or alto range) speaking with a higher voice (e.g., tenor or soprano) to be heard over the increased city noise levels, because deep voices are less effective in communicating with other people. This pattern of singing at higher song frequencies also occurs in different species such as crickets, toads, and several bird species; in cities around the world and even in aquatics environments where boat motors are abundant. This effect of singing at higher frequencies could be problematic in animal communication, particularly for animals that cannot increase the minimum frequency of the songs, rendering them unable to communicate with other individuals of their species and reducing the probability of reproducing or defending their territories.

One response to avoiding the effect of noise pollution without changing the frequency is to increase the song volume (song energy amplitude), this phenomenon is called the Lombard effect, and anyone that has been to a concert, party, or meeting with music played at high volume does this to communicate with those around us. As we know from experience, to speak at a higher volume than normal for an extended period of time produces fatigue and reduces the quality of our voice. Animals experience similar fatigue when they sing at a higher volume in cities in order to communicate. For animals to compensate for the excess fatigue they must eat more to recuperate their energy, and decrease the amount of daytime singing, as compared to places with lower noise pollution.

Noise pollution also affects animals’ behavior in ways not necessary related with singing characteristics. For example, vigilance behaviors increase because animals are not able to detect predator presence due to ambient noise interference. Increased vigilance behaviors also decreases time available for feeding, reducing the energy intake, affecting the wellness of the animals, and reducing the reproductive success and survival because of lower energy levels and higher stress levels. Animals also change their singing activity associated with noise pollution. They shift the singing activity to hours where noise pollution is lower, for example before or after traffic peaks, or more volume on weekdays than on weekends. Additionally, other diurnal animals sing at night to communicate and avoid the daytime noise pollution. All of these changes probably also affect success of communication because singing at unusual time periods may affect the transmission of the sounds from the sender to the receiver due to wind currents or turbulence that increase the song degradation at closer distances. Singing at night may also reveal the position of the singer to predators increasing the probability of predation.

Figure 2. Sonogram (visual representation of a sound) of a House Wren (Troglodytes aedon) song. The song at the left is the song at low pollution noise levels and at the right is the same song at high levels of noise pollution. The difference in the minimum frequency between both songs is the distance between the red line and the bottom of the song in the right song.

As we see here, noise pollution affects the song characteristics (frequency and energy) of animals inside cities, reducing the probability of communicating effectively with other individuals of the species. Additionally, noise pollution also affects the animal behavior reducing the time invested in feeding or producing song at unusual time periods. As humans living in cities, we are also affected by noise pollutions but our understanding how this affects us is limited to medical diagnosis of sick people. However, if we can develop a relationship between animals’ response to noise pollution and the occurrence of human sickness associated with higher levels of noise pollution, we can suggest corrective measures to reduce the noise pollution and positively affect both animals and humans that inhabit cities.

Furthermore, to know how animals are changing their songs to survive in or around cities could give us a better understanding of the capacities that animals have to modify their songs (this phenomenon is called plasticity, and we as human use it constantly to imitate other voices or to speak in a loud room), that in the end may result in changes of songs throughout time.

Luis Sandoval
San José

On The Nature of Cities

Ecosystems for everyone: Who should have access to the myriad benefits of ecosystem services and urban nature? Everyone. Does everyone? No. How will we achieve this moral imperative?

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
Regularly, we feature a Global Roundtable in which a group of people respond to a specific question in The Nature of Cities.
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Hover over a name to see an excerpt of their response…click on the name to see their full response.
Isabelle Anguelovski, BarcelonaThere’s been a significant shift in green urban planning—from the community-oriented greening of the 1970s and 1980s aimed at reclaiming neighborhoods, toward a development-oriented greening aimed at attracting high-end amenities that cater to service industries, technology districts, privileged residents, and tourists.
Georgina Avlonitis, Cape Town The unjust economic legacies of South Africa’s apartheid enabled the rich white minority to over-consume space and water, undermining local biodiversity, while poorer citizens were forced to sprawl in areas that caused them to further degrade biodiversity and local ecosystem services.
Julie Bargmann, Charlottesville Don’t get me going on green being used as a verb!
Nathalie Blanc, Paris Less than social movements, we need to think more of the socio-environmental communities, which are formed through joint action on a material environment.
P.K. Das, Mumbai We make strong claims at TNOC about the importance of ecosystems. But how should a poor person in a slum care of these against basic deficits in safe water, housing, and human rights?
Marthe Derkzen, Amsterdam Collaborative programs that foster civic engagement increase equity in nature access by opening up green areas to residents of all ages and backgrounds, including those for whom access to nature is not a standard privilege.
Maggie Scott Greenfield, New York There are no shortcuts in ensuring access to nature. We must invest in people and the systems that build political support, cultural understanding, and inclusive governance.
Fadi Hamdan, Beirut The issues of this roundtable are in fact multi-dimensional and multi-scalar: the social processes that drive the disaster risk, climate change, poverty nexus are permeated with rising inequality.
Nadja Kabisch, BerlinWe have learned that when urban planning does not include the local community properly, green development projects can fail.
Jim Labbe, Portland The urgent question is not should or how we end toxic urbanism and create biophilic cities. The question is whether we as communities will continue accept urban development that permits, abets, and reproduces it?
François Mancebo, Paris Making ecosystem services and nature available does not mean making them accessible to everyone; they must be consistent with the existing social and cultural fabric.
Harini Nagendra, Bangalore Actions taken seemingly for the benefit of the resource (patrolling by guards, fencing, priced entry) often reveal a cultural imagination of nature that is dominated by the aesthetic and recreational, while exacerbating existing inequities in access to ecosystem services.
Flaminia Paddeu, Paris Less than social movements, we need to think more of the socio-environmental communities, which are formed through joint action on a material environment.
Steward Pickett, Poughkeepsie The moral imperative of equitable service provision rests on a still deeper moral imperative to take the heterogeneity of people’s perceptions, values, and fears into account.
Andrew Rudd, New York I am a pessimist, but I think that without some degree of pessimism we are less attuned to what it happening around us—unless it is happening directly to us.
Suraya Scheba, Cape Town The current inability of the mainstream sustainable development agenda to address the destructiveness of capitalist metabolism, as it seeks to offer guidance for the next 20 years of urbanization, renders it largely impotent.
Marcelo Lopes de Souza, Rio de Janero The spectre of “gentrifying conservationism” and “green evictions” will increasingly haunt segregated spaces and poor communities worldwide, using the “common good” argument as a convenient excuse.
Hita Unnikrishnan, Bangalore Actions taken seemingly for the benefit of the resource (patrolling by guards, fencing, priced entry) often reveal a cultural imagination of nature that is dominated by the aesthetic and recreational, while exacerbating existing inequities in access to ecosystem services.
Diana Wiesner, Bogota Ecological services in a given place must be concerned with more than just the issue of nature itself: it must be remembered that these services are also loaded with meanings and memories that represent the soul of the community.
Pengfei XIE, Beijing I am happy to observe a tendency in Chinese cities that local stakeholders are more and more involved in green infrastructure, introducing initiative in urban areas.
David Maddox

about the writer
David Maddox

David loves urban spaces and nature. He loves creativity and collaboration. He loves theatre and music. In his life and work he has practiced in all of these as, in various moments, a scientist, a climate change researcher, a land steward, an ecological practitioner, composer, a playwright, a musician, an actor, and a theatre director. David's dad told him once that he needed a back up plan, something to "fall back on". So he bought a tuba.

Introduction

Do we truly believe in the benefits of ecosystem services? If we do, then two important questions emerge. First, who should enjoy these benefits? The answer should be self-evident: everyone. Second, do city residents around the world currently enjoy these benefits? In short, and emphatically: no. If we believe in nature-based solutions to urban challenges, from sustainability to livability, then we must also believe in the fair and equitable access to such solutions. All green infrastructure designs and their implementations inherently include decisions about justice and equity, which means that access to “green” is an issue of justice. And, solutions are available, one would think.

Traditionally, environmental justice discussions have focused on the geographic distribution of environmental risks—the observation that poor communities disproportionately bear the burden of pollution from the systems that sustain affluent lifestyles elsewhere. This issue isn’t solved. The poor and politically unconnected around the world continue to experience greater levels of pollution and other environmental risks.

There is a flip side to the environmental justice equation: do people have equal access to the benefits of ecosystem services? We are lagging here, also—evidence shows that not everyone has equitable access to the health, happiness, and other social benefits that are the well documented results of parks, street trees, and open space. Poorer neighborhoods throughout the world tend to have less access to parks and other green elements. Nor does everyone have equal access to the nature-based solutions that can provide resilience to storms, floods, and other disturbances.

Even when green infrastructure—e.g., parks large and small, natural areas, water fronts, street trees—is incorporated into the design of neighborhoods underserved by open spaces or other green elements—which are typically the less affluent ones—there can be unintended results. First, planners often impose green design elements onto communities without fully consulting community members about what they want and need. Such a lack of inclusive decision-making can produce green spaces that are ill-suited for the neighborhood. The second driver of unexpected, negative outcomes from green design is what we might broadly call “gentrification” and its outcomes. During gentrification, as green infrastructure appears in neighborhoods, the neighborhoods may become more desirable to people living in other places. Rents and housing values rise, and many residents can no longer afford to live there; instead, they are displaced, priced out of their newly improved neighborhoods.

We have written about these issues before at TNOC, including the 2015 roundtable What are the social justice implications of urban ecology?, and the 2015 book The Just City Essays.

What is the answer to this challenge? If the benefits of nature-based solutions to urban problems are real, then improving all neighborhoods with green infrastructure must be key to the creation of cities that are more resilient, sustainable, livable, and just for everyone. Is it just about building more green infrastructure and building smarter? Being clear about “ecosystems for whom?” Or perhaps something more radical is needed—a fundamental reinvention of how we construct our economies and cities?

So, the challenge is ecosystems for everyone. How close are we to this moral imperative and how will we achieve it? Here are 18 responses exploring these critical questions.

Isabelle Michele Sophie Anguelovski

about the writer
Isabelle Michele Sophie Anguelovski

Isabelle Anguelovski is a Senior Researcher at the Institute for Environmental Science and Technology at the Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona. She is a social scientist trained in urban and environmental planning and coordinator of the research line Cities and Environmental Justice.

Isabelle Anguelovski

Who benefits from green cities?

In many large cities around the world, the public and private investors that promote the environmental, socio-economic and health benefits of urban greening projects often hide the often highly inequitable outcomes of gentrification and displacement linked to these developments. Under the banners of sustainability, resilience, and climate adaptation, a number of municipalities engaged in greening trajectories, instead of solving problems, have created new socio-spatial inequities or even exacerbated old ones.

There’s been a significant shift in green urban planning—from the community-oriented greening of the 1970s and 1980s aimed at reclaiming neighborhoods, toward a development-oriented greening aimed at attracting high-end amenities that cater to service industries, technology districts, privileged residents, and tourists.
In a recent article citing the Highline as the most famous example of this phenomenon, Scott Kratz, project director of Washington D.C.’s 11th Street Bridge Park, expressed concerns early on over the social impacts of the new highway-bridge-cum-park. “Who is this really for?” he asks himself. The question is a crucial one. Who are the real targets and beneficiaries of new or restored green amenities in cities?

As exemplified by the High Line in New York City, a former elevated railroad transformed into a large urban areal park now visited by 5 million people each year, many new parks have ultimately catered to white and socially-privileged residents and tourists. Between 2003 and 2011, property values near the High Line went up by 103%, and Zaha Hadid’s studio penthouses currently go for $50 million.

Since the 19th century, urban greening projects such as parks, gardens, greenways and ecological corridors have been promoted as motors of beautification, improved health outcomes, neighborhood revitalization, and residential well-being. Yet we can observe a significant shift in green urban planning—from the community-oriented greening of the 1970s and 1980s aimed at reclaiming neighborhoods, toward a development-oriented greening aimed at attracting high-end amenities that cater to service industries, technology districts, privileged residents, and tourists.

Our research at our social science research lab BCNUEJ has found evidence of this in various cities across the globe. In Medellín, the greening of poor areas in the name of growth control, beautification, and resilience is transforming low-income areas into landscapes of pleasure and privilege. In the process of green infrastructure construction such as the Greenbelt—Cinturón Verde, many residents of low-income neighborhoods are being dispossessed of community assets like land, social capital, and traditional farming practices. In New Orleans, we have observed how new green infrastructure linked to climate adaptation and its Living with Water plan mostly aim to attract a new creative, white middle class that can afford to purchase newly built waterfront property, while overlooking long-term inequities in land use development and promoting the creation of ecological enclaves. In Barcelona, one of our recent studies finds clear green gentrification trends in several historically underserved areas, especially old industrial neighborhoods. In the Sant Martí district, for instance, the percentage of residents holding a bachelor’s degree or higher increased by nearly 28 percent on average around a new local park, versus only a 7.6 percent increase for the district as a whole over a period of 10 years. The data clearly demonstrates how new green space attracts higher-educated residents.

Such far-reaching dynamics raises questions for environmental justice groups. As activists organize around improving urban environmental quality for socially-vulnerable residents, they are increasingly faced with the inequitable outcomes associated with greening projects promoted by powerful private investors and municipal decision-makers under a utopian language of sustainability and quality of life. So much so, that the growing trend of land revaluation and displacement that often results from greening has earned itself the term “green gentrification” or “ecological gentrification” (Dooling, 2009; Checker, 2011), in which gentrification is characterized by the social erasure of residential practices as well as by real physical displacement.

At BCNUEJ, our long-term research asks: Do urban greening projects have win-win outcomes for urban residents, as municipal leaders and planners widely claim? Or do they benefit some groups more than others? To what extent do different green planning interventions translate into the creation or exacerbation of new environmental inequalities through new dynamics of exclusion and invisibilization? Through our research project GREENLULUS—Green Locally Unwanted Land Uses—we examine the conditions of this green space paradox in different cities and its implications for long-term marginalized urban residents. We use the terms “GREENLULUS and green space paradox” to describe new or restored green amenities in historically marginalized communities as a way of repoliticizing a post-political sustainability discourse and to point to the fact that green projects do not always—and in fact, seldomly—bring positive outcomes for all city dwellers.

Of course we do not think the solution is to avoid greening in low-income neighborhoods or communities of color. Such decisions would further exclude historically marginalized groups from the benefits of greening and concentrate green or sustainability investment in richer neighborhoods. Nor do we argue that planners intentionally target low-income neighborhoods and communities of color in order to profit developers and exclude vulnerable residents from the benefits of green projects. Our research points to the fact that planners are more likely to neglect the impacts of their plans on the exchange values of real estate and that they are often imprisoned in a logic of competitive urbanism and city rebranding even if they are becoming increasingly aware of the inequitable impacts of green planning.

The question and challenge thus becomes: How can cities craft regulations, policies, planning schemes, funding mechanisms, and partnerships that address the negative impacts of green planning? In short, how can everyone benefit from green cities?

Many believe that lasting solutions to address urban green inequities and green gentrification reside in changing the ownership of land in cities so that its speculative and market function and place gets taken out of the picture. This means developing tools such as Community Land Trusts or Mutual Housing Associations, which are increasingly relevant policy tools used to address gentrification. Protecting and further developing social housing and public housing is also an obvious commitment needed to mitigate the risks of displacement increasingly associated with large scale urban greening projects such as greenways.

Zooming in on the greening projects themselves, smaller-scale projects focused on the needs, preferences, and multiple uses of local residents also have the potential to help ensure interactional justice and community ownership and stewardship—rather than appropriation by visitors and tourists, as The High Line exemplifies.

A version of this contribution appeared previously at the Barcelona Laboratory for Urban Environmental Justice and Sustainability (BCNUEJ).

Georgina Avlonitis

about the writer
Georgina Avlonitis

After finishing up her Master’s degree in urban ecology from the University of Cape Town in 2009, Georgina worked on biodiversity informatics and ecosystem based adaptation at ICLEI’s Cities Biodiversity Center. She then joined the Greenpop team. When she is not heading up Greenpop programmes across Southern Africa, you can find Georgina walking the soles off of her shoes or cooking up a Greek storm in the kitchen.

Georgina Avlonitis

Lessons from Greenpop—making nature popular.

The unjust economic legacies of South Africa’s apartheid enabled the rich white minority to over-consume space and water, undermining local biodiversity, while poorer citizens were forced to sprawl in areas that caused them to further degrade biodiversity and local ecosystem services.
“What do you think is on the other side of that fence?”, I asked a group of dusty under tens, eagerly staring up at me. We were standing in the sandy backyard of their after-school crèche, located in one of the Cape Town’s most derelict, violent, and under-resourced areas: the Cape Flats township of Village Heights. In front of us, a formidable three-meter fence separated the narrow, littered, plant-less, streets of their sprawling township from a wide expanse of green stretching out onto the horizon. We were in fact looking through the fence of Rondevlei Nature Reserve—a biodiversity gem in the city’s crown of natural assets and somewhere they had never set foot. “I don’t know what that place is, we’ve never been in there”, said one little one. “Isn’t it where the gangsters do their dogfighting?”

Photo: Greenpop

Cape Town is an extraordinary city of contradictions—historically complex and ecologically profound. Situated in one of the world’s biodiversity hot spots, the Cape Floristic Region (CFR), it is a diverse and sophisticated urban centre of great biodiversity and conservation significance but also of overwhelming inequality. The CFR was declared a National World Heritage Site of “universal significance to humanity” but very few have access to the services that this incredible biodiversity provides. The unjust economic legacies of South Africa’s apartheid enabled the rich white minority to over-consume space and water, undermining local biodiversity, while poorer citizens were forced to sprawl in areas that caused them to further degrade biodiversity and local ecosystem services.

Photo: Greenpop

This nexus of segregation due to an apartheid legacy, high poverty levels and extraordinary biodiversity is indeed a conundrum to address. What to do with people squatting adjacent to conservation areas? How to re-nature areas without further contributing to gentrification? How to connect people to nature and achieve public buy-in of green spaces? How to make nature conservation important to people who don’t even have access to basic municipal services?

Through my work at Greenpop and our Urban Greening and Eco-education Programme (which has planted over 80,000 trees and indigenous vegetation at over 300 under-greened schools in Cape Town,) here are a few of my thoughts:

  • Civic engagement in urban greening interventions can not only engender community cohesion and improved social relations, but can improve the ecological functioning and the ecosystem services provided by an area. In Cape Town, for instance, the planting of indigenous trees and fynbos attracts pollinators and birds, which in turn allows for seeds to spread and grow, in effect creating new and self-sustained ecosystem processes and services. This type of social engagement can uphold biodiversity and ecosystem services for the greater urban area while increasing the ecological linkages between other areas of biodiversity.
  • Increased support for urban greening in local neighborhoods can be built and sustained over time by involving local schools in eco-education to green their own grounds and take care of green spaces through finding collaborative relations with already existing organizations. (Notwithstanding that this in turn quells the nature deficit disorder so prevalent in children in underprivileged areas, who only have dusty playgrounds to spend their formative years in—inspiring a generation of active citizens who value and are connected to nature.)
  • Best-practice and lessons from smaller-scale greening interventions can be built upon and reproduced at other localities and at greater scales.
  • Physically and emotionally connecting (well-chosen and appropriate) private sector funders to communities can assist in maintaining a funding stream for greening interventions in under-greened areas. International brand BOS Ice Tea, which creates their tea from South African fynbos species, Rooibos, has sponsored over 17,000 trees to Greenpop’s Urban Greening Programme. Their continued involvement is partly the result of their inspiring company ethos, but also the result of ensuring their physical involvement on plant days, where they are able to physically contribute and viscerally witness the affect their contributions are having on the community and environment.
  • Civil servants need to collaborate with non-profit organizations and active citizens to access state resources to engender and sustain change on the ground, especially in neglected and marginalized public green spaces. This can be accomplished by creating effective institutional arrangements and agreements between civic associations and local authorities, allowing fruitful partnerships, increased synergy, pooling of funds and access to the workers made available from state-driven environmental initiatives.
  • Effective means of monitoring and maintaining restored green spaces need to be put into place to ensure their longevity through appropriate budget allocations and community involvement. This can be bolstered by citizen science initiatives from the local community/school. (Greenpop has created a monitoring app, which allows our schools and communities to monitor our greened spaces remotely, send pictures of their development as well as ask for assistance with plant/tree health and maintenance.)

The challenges are complex and require a multifaceted approach. I don’t have all the answers, but I’ve witnessed first-hand the power of community-lead urban greening interventions in providing some light at the end of the tunnel—bringing us closer to an urban future where nature is both accessible and co-managed by active and inspired citizenry.

Photo: Greenpop
Julie Bargmann

about the writer
Julie Bargmann

Julie Bargmann is the founder and principal of D.I.R.T. studio in Charlottesville, VA. She is internationally recognized as an innovator in the design and construction of regenerative landscapes. Her distinctive point of view on urban and industrial sites challenges conventional remediation practices, often with groundbreaking results.

Julie Bargmann

Orange is the new green

Don’t get me going on green being used as a verb!
“Green” is a poor substitute for words referring to nature and the landscape. Using the name of a color to represent something other than that color, namely to indicate the environment, is misleading. As if the only definition of the landscape has something to do with being the verdant version of sustainability’s favorite hue? And don’t get me going on green being used as a verb!

I fear that the stand-in “green” inhibits the appreciation for the plentiful forms the landscape (and nature) can take. If terminology around ecosystems articulated a broader spectrum of places within them, might the question of equal access to the ‘natural world’ change? If recognizable leafy flora doesn’t predominate a place, does that pose a threat to accessing nature? For me, someone obsessed with industrialized terrain, orange is the new green. Novel ecosystems are veraciously colonizing rusty manufacturing sites and engulfing toxic industrial flows. These are the landscapes that a good many people live and work in. Pumpkin-colored streams flow through coal country and when working there, local kids asked me why the water looked that way. I explained the effects of acid mine drainage to them and now they know why there are no fish. Still, they shrugged and road off on their bikes to play in the creek, in water not poisonous to their bodies but to other beings of the food chain. That’s their nature and it isn’t green.

Hughes Borehole inundated with acid mine drainage near Vintondale, Pennsylvania.Photo montage: Julie Bargmann
Nathalie Blanc

about the writer
Nathalie Blanc

Nathalie Blanc works as a Research Director at the French National Center for Scientific Research. She is a pioneer of ecocriticism in France. Her recent book is Form, Art, and Environment: engaging in sustainability, by Routledge in 2016.

Nathalie Blanc and Flaminia Paddeu

Less than social movements, we need to think more of the socio-environmental communities, which are formed through joint action on a material environment.
There are many naturalization projects in cities. Green infrastructure in the cities of New York, Paris, Brussels and many other cities are expected to address the erosion of biodiversity and the fight against climate change. Shared gardens, roofs and vegetalized facades are meant to be the components of a policy of urban ecological transformation. In addition to the attractiveness of these natural spaces for city dwellers (gardens, facades, roofs, residual spaces, but also vegetable towers sometimes referred to as edible buildings or urban farms …), the naturalization of cities is also an attempt to put nature to work. Ecosystem services highlight the regulatory, procurement, and cultural role of urban biodiversity (e.g., protection of buildings against the sun, absorption of fine particles, retention of rainwater, increase in biodiversity, etc.). Urban ecology is now a meaningful expression to local authorities.

However, cities still lag behind in evaluating the environmental value of these urban transformations, in terms of their ability to mitigate the effects of climate change. In the context of ecological transition, significant territorial inequalities, and the rise of ecological alternatives, what kind of urban fabric, and what governance must be implemented to face the challenges associated with ecological transformation?

Our hypothesis is that ecological transformation involves citizen mobilization, the cultural transformation of relationships with the environment. Since the 1970s, civil society has played an important role in the struggle for a more just distribution of collective resources such as nature spaces (Castells, 1983). Social movements have played a major role in negotiating diverse interests to defend the claim of space for urban nature (Barthel, Parker and Ernstson, 2015). These movements participate in a struggle for the urban commons such as the quality of water or air, in the face of its structural appropriation and destruction by the mode of contemporary urbanization. However, they remain ambivalent, conflict-ridden, structurally socio-economically, culturally and racially, and subject to the risk of ecogentrification (Dooling, 2009). A. Newman (2011) has highlighted, from the case of the Jardins d’Éole in the 19th arrondissement, a low-income, mainly immigrant neighborhood in Paris, the dynamics of the protest mobilized around the construction and design the park and its impact on class, gender and ethno-racial inequalities. It shows the contradictory results of these mobilizations, offering the inhabitants a new way of dealing with injustices, but reproducing at other times the socio-spatial inequalities.

Less than social movements, we need to think more of the socio-environmental communities, which are formed through joint action on a material environment—landscapes, life environments, environments— thought in the context of solidarities but also conflicts of territoriality, in which human collectives associate with the living and the environment to fight against other uses of space. These arrangements draw alternatives by shaping combinations between humans and nonhumans that open up new perspectives of action. Thus the transformation of the environment in which these inhabitants live develop a sense of alliances and bond that draws on socio-ecological processes that go well beyond the boundaries of their own local habitat.

In this sense, the notion of interspecific alliances between humans and non-humans developed by K. Beilin (2017) about the use of the amaranth Kiwicha made by the peasants and environmental activists of Paraguay and Argentina allows us to move away from a purely utilitarian approach of collectives using environmental initiatives to appropriate and shape in their own way collective spaces shared between different social groups, and a depoliticized approach assuming that ordinary environmentalism is a beneficial ecological action devoid of stakes of power.

What we call ordinary environmentalism is to take into account environmental practices that have hitherto been considered negligible and to emphasize their valorization in the case of a democratization of the co-production of everyday and ordinary environments. The question is to think of the emergence of ordinary environmentalism in relation to the distributions and inequalities in the territories from an environmental and physical point of view as well as from a social point of view or from political commitment. It is necessary to affirm the need for work at different scales and according to various spatialities to analyze the development of these associative movements including in particular, the response to environmental inequalities. Beyond the analysis of the relationships between ordinary environmentalism and unequal distributions of impacts, it is necessary to include the processes of devaluation of territories and people within these analyses and to stigmatize the lack of inclusion in citizen participation.

References

Barthel, Stephan, Parker John et Ernstson Henrik. 2015. « Food and Green Space in Cities: A Resilience Lens on Gardens and Urban Environmental Movements », Urban Studies, n°52, p. 1321-1338.

Beilin, Katarzyna, 2017, The War Between Amaranth and Soy: An Interspecies History of anti-Roundup Activism in Argentina and Paraguay

Castells, Manuel. 1983, The City and the Grassroots. London: E. Arnold.

Dooling, Sarah. 2009. Ecological Gentrification: A Research Agenda Exploring Justice in the City » International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, n°33, p.621-639.

Newman, Andrew. 2011, « Contested Ecologies: Environmental Activism and Urban Space in Immigrant Paris, City & Society, n°23, p. 192–209.

Flaminia Paddeu

about the writer
Flaminia Paddeu

Flaminia Paddeu is associate professor in geography at the University of Paris 13, researcher at PLEIADE laboratory, and associate researcher at LADYSS laboratory. She is currently working on civic environmentalism in the Greater Paris area. She is co-founder of the urban studies online review Urbanités.

PK Das

about the writer
PK Das

P.K. Das is popularly known as an Architect-Activist. With an extremely strong emphasis on participatory planning, he hopes to integrate architecture and democracy to bring about desired social changes in the country.

P.K. Das

Know ecosystem services?

We make strong claims at TNOC about the importance of ecosystems. But how should a poor person in a slum care of these against basic deficits in safe water, housing, and human rights?

How many people know what ecosystem services mean? Maybe none, with a miniscule exception, among those with whom I work and engage on every day basis in Mumbai. These people include, politicians, middle- and upper-class citizens, slum dwellers, workers, activists, journalists, educators, historians, sociologists, economists, engineers, architects, planners and municipal and government officials. We engage in a substantially wide range of matters that affect our daily lives, consuming our time and energy; open spaces, gardens, beaches, waterfronts, creeks, wetlands, mangroves, forests, trees, quality of life and environment and housing, and a host of other urban development issues- transportation, city planning and so on, human rights and law included.

Therefore, the challenge is, as I understand, first introducing the very idea of ecological services into our dialogue, relating them with other rights and thereafter building popular movements for claiming and reclaiming access by all to ecosystem services. Let me confess, here in Indian cities, we are far from it.
I live and work in Mumbai, a city of twelve million people, the financial and trading capital of India. Real estate prices here are amongst the highest in the world; while over 50% of its population—six million people—live in slums. Services and infrastructure in the slums and the city, are probably the worst among big cities anywhere.

Interestingly, Mumbai has a long history of a number of significant social and political movements: struggles of the discriminated Dalit people led by Dr. Ambedkar, unionization of the working class led by Dange, the Quit India movement against British occupation led by Mahatma Gandhi. Also, there have been significant struggles for housing rights, civil and civic rights, human rights and important environmental battles, thereby influencing the city and the country.

Mumbai is also unique in terms of the extent of its rich and varied natural areas and assets. Forests including a 100 km2 national park within the city, hills, creeks, wetlands, mangroves, beaches, rivers, lakes, together covering an area of 240 km2 that constitute 50% of the total area of the city.

Tragically, development of the city, historically, has been directed with just one single dominating motive, that is to boost real estate business, with volumes of mindless construction as a measure of success, thereby turning the city into a speculative investment heaven by the rich and influential people. As a result, natural areas have been abused and misused, turning them into dumping grounds, both physically and metaphorically. Destruction of these areas has been rampant with irreversible environmental consequences. Even an account of these rich natural assets of the city have not been mapped or documented sufficiently. The preparation of successive Development Plans by the city Municipal Corporation every 15-20 years have ignored them as being integral to the planning process. Over the years, large parts of these areas have been landfilled in order to promote real estate projects. Currently, the government is pushing for development of the saltpan areas (parts of the wetlands that have been used since the 1940s to produce salt) for promoting affordable housing schemes. Similarly, large parts of the national park are being de-reserved for construction of roads, transportation depots and similarly other projects.

It is in such a complex context of socio-political history and un-sustainable urbanization that is being pursued by the governments in Mumbai, indeed across India, that we have to dwell upon the subject of ecological services.

As The Nature of Cities, of which I am a part, makes strong claims about the critical value of nature and ecosystems, my concern is how can various people’s movements in the city successfully include this issue into their agenda and popularize them as being integral to questions of resilience and sustainability. Such an effort would mean going beyond their preoccupation with demands from people for day to day needs—basic services like safe drinking water and sanitation and housing and protection of human rights. In such a situation, how can we champion the benefits of green to be true and real? How can we consciously evaluate those services that already exist, but of which we are not particularly aware, while simultaneously furthering new ones?

Can The Nature of Cities prepare, to begin with, a short campaign leaflet, brochure and posters for public understanding? Various movements here can then use them or appropriately modify them to spread the message and conduct public discussions. Governments will be forced to look into these concerns once there is growing public understanding of the significance of ecosystems services and their rights of access.

Marthe Derkzen

about the writer
Marthe Derkzen

Dr. Marthe Derkzen is a researcher and lecturer with the Health and Society chair group. She studies urban nature from a social justice perspective with an interest in climate adaptation, local food, healthy neighborhoods and stewardship of the commons.

Marthe Derkzen

Share your garden & green your school ground!

Collaborative programs that foster civic engagement increase equity in nature access by opening up green areas to residents of all ages and backgrounds, including those for whom access to nature is not a standard privilege.
Solutions to improve equity in access to urban nature are increasingly found in local, bottom-up initiatives. Not public entities, but individuals and groups are the ones driving socio-ecological innovation. They become key actors in ecosystem management, driven by lifestyle choices (e.g. health) combined with socioeconomic and ecological decline. The public role expands from planning and providing green space to stimulating and facilitating user participation, environmental stewardship and collaborative management. When the public and the city combine forces, we can work toward nature for all.
I spent the past four years studying the benefits of urban nature with a particular emphasis on ecosystem services and social justice. My PhD research included case studies in Rotterdam and Bangalore, and in spite of being very different cities, they show a similar problem: current green space planning fails to take everyone’s needs into account, and the groups least able to raise their voice face the risk of becoming further marginalized. The closer I came to the end of my PhD, the more I realized that civic engagement can help solve this problem. I will present two promising avenues for a greener city by and for local groups and residents, based on my experience living and working in Amsterdam.
Amsterdam is a compact city that wants to expand without expanding. The city is growing and needs to build more housing, while maintaining its high livability standards. This means that pressure on public green spaces is constant and every square meter should be highly functional without sacrificing quality. So what to do? Here are two simple solutions for increased nature access in compact cities:

1. Green school grounds
Ideally, every child should interact with nature on a daily basis. In compact cities it is more rare than common for houses to have a garden, so this daily portion of nature should be sought elsewhere. The school ground is the perfect location to include green playgrounds, water channeling games, green walls with herbs and a garden filled with strawberries. A green school ground is the perfect source of learning by doing, stimulates the exploratory mind and has proven to increase indoor concentration as well (see the work of Sjerp de Vries on green school ground redevelopment). Besides the educational benefits, green school grounds are perfect for cross-cultural meetings, parents’ active involvement, neighborhood networks and rain water infiltration. Most importantly, they provide an opportunity for every child to access nature, regardless of their home situation.

A successful green school ground in Arnhem, the Netherlands. Photo: Bloei in Arnhem (http://www.bloeiinarnhem.nl/succesvol-groen-schoolplein/#.WbBBNsgjHIU)

2. Garden sharing
Another simple solution based on engagement and neighborhood ties, is the concept of garden sharing. The Amsterdam based organization De Gezonde Stad (The Healthy City) is currently testing a platform for garden sharing in two neighborhoods. The idea is simple: connect garden owners who currently don’t manage their garden spaces to their neighbors with an interest in gardening but no garden space. In Amsterdam, garden owners often lack the time or energy to maintain their garden which is why many gardens are either sealed, grey spaces or have turned into a complete wilderness. Other garden owners have lost the physical ability to maintain their garden because of age or poor health, and some just lack a green thumb. This is a sad situation as many garden owners would really like to have a lush green garden, either to grow vegetables or simply to have a nice outdoor space in which to relax. It becomes even sadder knowing that there is a huge army of Amsterdam residents who would love to have a garden but who live in small apartments with tiny balconies, if any outdoor space at all. The garden sharing platform, called My Plot, connects garden owners to garden cravers and makes them both happier. Creating not only increased equity in nature access, but also increasing the share of unsealed and vegetated surface area!

Share your garden with your neighbor who turns it green! Photo: Jouw Stek (jouwstek.org)

These examples of civic engagement and collaboration increase equity in nature access by opening up green areas to residents of all ages and backgrounds, including those for whom access to nature is not a standard privilege. But it is not a task for residents and local organizations alone. Municipalities have a task to support and facilitate bottom-up initiatives, for example through subsidies and planning legislation that allows new collaborations and adaptive uses. At the same time, municipalities are responsible for maintaining safe and healthy cities and need to keep exploring novel top-down solutions such as a garden taxing system that favors permeable garden owners over sealed garden owners in order to increase rain water seepage into the soil. Cities should make use of the current momentum in which urban nature gains attention for reasons of health, local engagement and resilience to climate change.

Maggie Scott Greenfield

about the writer
Maggie Scott Greenfield

Maggie Scott Greenfield, AICP, serves as the Executive Director of the Bronx River Alliance and the Bronx River Administrator for NYC Parks. Maggie guides investments of more than $220 million in greenway and restoration projects, and works with multiple partners to reclaim the river as a resource for the communities along it.

Maggie Scott Greenfield

The human element: political support, cultural relevance and inclusive governance

Since its founding in 2001, the Bronx River Alliance has sought to provide access to a vital slice of nature that flows through the heart of the Bronx. It’s challenging work and progress is hard-won. The successes we’ve achieved have resulted from political will, attention to cultural relevance, and inclusive governance. All three of these human elements are particularly important when working in environmental justice communities where such projects face fierce challenges, yet where access to nature—and its related services—is most pressing.

There are no shortcuts in ensuring access to nature. We must invest in people and the systems that build political support, cultural understanding, and inclusive governance.
Developing urban parks, much less restoring an urban river, can be expensive, fraught with design challenges, layers of regulatory permits, and overlapping jurisdictions. These obstacles can lead to halting progress, which is why long-term community and political support is so important.

As a result of the Great Recession’s contracting budgets, we learned in 2008 that Starlight Park, a critical and long-awaited link in the Bronx River Greenway, would not be completed as initially envisioned. Several years later when we celebrated the opening of this 11-acre park with its docks, trails, playgrounds and sports fields, we were already strategizing on how to complete the portions that were cut. The park lacked critical connecting links to residential communities in the South Bronx, thus limiting public access. Thanks to meaningful community leadership for the river, all levels of government—Borough, City, State, Federal—heard, repeatedly and insistently, why the missing connections to local neighborhoods must be completed. Up-and-coming political stars adopted the Bronx River as a cause to champion. Long-term supporters of the river, like Congressman José E. Serrano, found new ways to sustain our efforts as the political winds shifted at the national level. This political support, rooted in broad-based community ownership of the river, has resulted in a continued commitment to “Phase 2” of the project, led now by NYC Parks, and a willingness to find new sources of funding and tackle inevitable design challenges. Now over $50 million has been allocated for Phase 2 and construction is about to commence.

Yet just as important as the physical presence of parks and trails in urban communities is cultural relevance. How do we ensure that our parks are welcoming to the multiple communities in which they are situated? Park-based programs such as Zumba, drum circles, and plant identification and cooking classes in Spanish can help connect new audiences to urban nature. But we must also recognize our own blind spots. Who will reach out to the Bangladeshi or Albanian communities? Do we even know who all our communities are in vibrantly multicultural areas like the South Bronx?

Neighborhood-based groups know their communities best and can play a significant role in facilitating access to urban nature. Recently, a Spanish-speaking instructor led a class on the medicinal properties of estafiate (a.k.a. mugwort) to a group of women at park along the river. Thanks to a partnership with Youth Ministries for Peace and Justice, a local community-based organization that secured this programming, these women were engaging with nature in a way linked to their cultural heritage. This too is access.

Finally, the institutional structure of the groups working to increase access to urban nature is of critical importance. What voice do local communities have in the decisions that shape their parks and their connection to nature? Does the staff and board of these institutions look like the communities in which they operate? If not, what can be done to move toward a direction of inclusion and representation? At the Bronx River Alliance, we support Teams for our Ecology and Greenway programs that provide a pathway for leadership and onto our Board of Directors. Several of our Board Chairs have come out of Team and community leadership. We prioritize local hiring and are proud that our Conservation Manager and Crew leaders came to us from local job training programs and have grown in roles of increasing leadership and responsibility ever since. Today, they are full-time, unionized employees with NYC Parks, demonstrating by their own success, a career path for their friends and neighbors.

There are no shortcuts in ensuring access to nature. We must invest in people and the systems that build political support, cultural understanding, and inclusive governance if we hope to approach the goal of nature for all. Recognizing the human element in the very process of connecting ourselves and one another to the great wide world around us is key to our success.

Fadi Hamdan

about the writer
Fadi Hamdan

Fadi has more than 25 years of international experience in analysing the interaction between development, urbanism, disaster risk, climate change, conflict, and state fragility. Fadi cooperates with various companies, cities, and countries to protect people, assets, and the environment

Fadi Hamdan

Ecosystem benefitsa service for the few or a right for the many?

In this intervention, I attempt to address the issue of inequality of access to ecosystem benefits, not as a stand-alone issue, but rather within the broader context of ongoing trends of urbanism, multi-dimensional inequality, poverty, disaster losses, financialisation of the global economy and climate change.

The issues of this roundtable are in fact multi-dimensional and multi-scalar: the social processes that drive the disaster risk, climate change, poverty nexus are permeated with rising inequality.
In 2016, an estimated 54.5 percent of the world’s population lived in urban settlements. Urban areas are expected to house 60 percent of the world population by 2030[i]. Speculative urban capital is invested in modern enclaves, while the low-income majority has access to informal or sub-standard urbanization. In spite of the decrease from 39 to 30 percent of urban population living in slums in developing countries between 2000 and 2014, in 2016, one in eight people continue to live in slums and around a billion people live in slum conditions[ii], as a minimum[iii].  Within and around these urban areas ecosystem benefits are threatened.

Ecosystem benefits such as crop pollination, carbon sequestration, climate regulation, water purification, air purification, nutrient dispersal, nutrient recycling, waste processing, flood control, pest control and disease control, are estimated to be around $36 trillion a year. Currently, we remain unable to provide these services for ourselves[iv]. The ecological footprint from the unsustainable overconsumption of energy and natural capital now exceeds the planet’s biocapacity by nearly 50 percent. Coastal wetlands declined by 52 percent between the 1980s and early 2000s. Other critical regulatory ecosystems such as mangrove forests and coral reefs are also degrading at a rapid pace[v].

The mortality and economic losses associated with extensive risks (minor but recurrent disaster risks) in low and middle-income countries are trending up. In the last decade, losses due to extensive risk in 85 countries exceeded US$94 billion. Extensive risks (which represent an ongoing erosion of development assets, such as houses, schools, health facilities, roads and local infrastructure) are usually absorbed by low-income households and communities and small businesses. While the concentration of investment in urban centres drives intensive risk (severe but relatively infrequent risk), high levels of urban income inequality shape patterns of extensive risk[vi].

The social processes that drive the disaster risk, climate change, poverty nexus are permeated with rising inequality. Indeed, in 2017 eight people own as much as 3.6 billion people who make up the poorest half of humanity[vii]. Rising inequality is manifesting itself in both the global south and the global north, where for example research by Piketty shows that over the last 30 years in the U.S., the growth in the incomes of the bottom 50% has been zero, whereas incomes of the top 1% have grown 300%[viii].

Building asset inequality (housing and security of tenure), unequal access to public services and welfare systems, inequality of social status linked to space (e.g. informal settlements in urban settings), and inequalities in the application of the rule of law has significant impact on disaster risk levels. Inequality itself, including inequality to access to basic ecosystem benefits, is permeated with weak governance and weak risk governance. For example, from the global, through to the sub-national levels, decisions relating to the use of resources lead to a particular distribution of benefits, exposure, vulnerability, risks and losses. Often the poorest, the most marginalized, and those with the least (unequal) access the decision making process are those that suffer disproportionately from a concentration of vulnerability and losses due to the particular use of the natural resources.

Communication technologies allow people to connect and lobby for their rights at the local, national and global levels[ix], including the right for access to eco-system benefits, thereby circumventing gatekeepers at all levels. However, increased financialisation of the economies in first world countries[x], [xi] and prevailing rentier economies and cultures in many third world countries[xii] is leading to the breakdown of traditional social contracts, and to the rise of racism and other forms of extremism that prevent people from uniting around rights-based themes.

Notwithstanding the above, climate change, rising inequality, increased disaster losses, and improvements in education and telecommunications technologies provide an opportunity to:

  • Raise awareness on the relationship between weak risk governance and the disproportionate concentration of disaster risk vulnerability and losses.
  • Use telecommunication technologies to lobby and mobilise support for preserving and promoting ecosystem benefits for all.
  • Pillar the above two steps on the fundamental idea that ecosystem benefits are a human right to be enjoyed by all and not a service to be enjoyed by the decreasing few who can afford it.

References

[i] The World Cities in 2016 – Data Booklet, United Nations, Economic and Social Affairs Division. http://www.un.org/en/development/desa/population/publications/pdf/urbanization/the_worlds_cities_in_2016_data_booklet.pdf

[ii] Slum Almanac 2015/2016, Tracking Development in the lives of slum dwellers, UNHABITAT, 2016.  https://unhabitat.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/02-old/Slum%20Almanac%202015-2016_EN.pdf

[iii]  According to the above study, this number may be considered as a minimum as this figure has been calculated considering just four out of the five slum household’s deprivations considered in UN-Habitat’s definition, as security of tenure can’t be accurately calculated yet. In some countries with limited information, only one of the five components has been measured.

[iv] Abundance – the future is better than you think, Diamandis P. and Kotler S., 2011.

[v] Global Assessment Report, UNISDR, 2015.

[vi] Global Assessment Report, UNISDR, 2015.

[vii] An Economy for the 99%, Oxfam Briefing Paper, January 2017.  https://www.oxfam.org/sites/www.oxfam.org/files/file_attachments/bp-economy-for-99-percent-160117-en.pdf

[viii] Capital in the Twenty First Century, Thomas Piketty, 2014.  https://dowbor.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/14Thomas-Piketty.pdf

[ix] Abundance – the future is better than you think, Diamandis P. and Kotler S., 2011.

[x] The Financialization of the American Economy, Krippner G., Socio- Economic Review, Issue 3, pp. 173-208, 2005. http://www.hr.fudan.edu.cn/_upload/article/b5/5e/e816d9f3439c946642016999bf90/b40e0f40-6867-43e0-83c5-5c1107dbe24e.pdf

[xi] Financialization and the World Economy, Epstein G., 2005.

[xii] Intensive and extensive disaster risk drivers and interactions with recent trends in the global political economy, with special emphasis on rentier states, Hamdan F., Special Issue of the International Journal for Disaster Risk Reduction, Vol. 14, Part 3, pp 273-289, 2015. http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2212420914000740

Nadja Kabisch

about the writer
Nadja Kabisch

Nadja Kabisch holds a PhD in Geography. Her special interest is on human-environment interactions in cities taking co-benefits from nature-based solutions implementation for human health and social justice into account.

Nadja Kabisch

We have learned that when urban planning does not include the local community properly, green development projects can fail.
Cities have been growing over centuries and urban structures are differently distributed within the city area. In compact cities, central parts are often highly dense areas with high degrees of impervious surfaces and less urban green. Urban green spaces available in any kind of city may consist of historically grown parks or cemeteries, allotment gardens or other green spaces that are usually not equally distributed over a whole city area. Research suggests that some groups have less access to urban green spaces than others and that it is particularly the higher income groups that live in greener areas with lower densities, less sealed areas and lower traffic volume. The unequal distribution of environmental goods and burdens associated with green in cities makes the debate on urban green space availability and accessibility an issue of socio-environmental justice.

As cities grow and further develop, urban planning seeks to improve environmental conditions in cities through the redevelopment of former industrial areas—so called brown fields—into new parks or green spaces. Some cities—e.g. Berlin—plan for brownfield redevelopment in deprived areas to improve the situation of less advantaged groups. What has happened earlier is that brownfield redevelopment and the creation of high quality green spaces have led to an upgrade of the particular city area or neighbourhood. Since some years, there is the fear of green gentrification in which the greening strategies would lead to higher rents for those the green development was intended to help, to the extent that they cannot afford to stay anymore. This fear is reasonable as case studies from German cities such as Berlin or Leipzig already showed. The debate on green gentrification is not new. In fact, responding to different case studies around the globe, authors—also in TNOC (2014) three years ago—discussed the potential of residential displacement kicked off by urban greening developments. Some solutions have been outlined which mainly responded to cases of the developed world. These potential solutions to counteract green gentrification mainly recalled urban planning to think together the greening development of an area with potential effects in market oriented processes and vice versa the impact on the residential population in a holistic way.

I am partly with Marcelo Lopes de Souza (2017), who pointed out in TNOC recently that these discussions were too optimistic regarding the opportunities and available instruments state-led urban planning really has. Given the way the market works in western, neo-liberal state-led urban planning may certainly reach its limits. Particularly in cities with poor financial budgets, decisions are taken that promote economic development rather than consider the socio-economic situation of residents. Still, I do have hope that the careful consideration of where to plan for urban nature taking into consideration the overall structure of the city—including land cover but simultaneously the socio-economic situation in all neighbourhoods—may lead to new forms of policy instruments that ensure that the existing population can stay, enjoy, and benefit from the green development. These instruments may go hand in hand with the involvement of local residents in all stages of a green development project.

Picture 1: Public park—Tempelhofer Feld in Berlin, the former city airport opened for public use in 2010. Runways and lawns are used for sports and relaxation.

What we have learned from a popular case in Berlin is that when urban planning does not include the local community properly, green development projects can fail. The former city airport of Berlin—the Tempelhofer Feld—was supposed to be redeveloped based on a masterplan (2013) that included residential development that was obviously supposed to be high class development. Fearing the gentrification of the neighbourhoods, local communities initiated a Berlin-wide referendum in 2014 to vote in favour of keeping the area as it is and against the masterplan. The referendum succeeded. More than 46% of eligible voters participated and from those nearly 65% (nearly 740,000! people) voted in favour of the current area. The power of the local community was not anticipated by city officials but the city’s initial plans were finally stopped.

Picture 2: Playgrounds at the Gleisdreieck in the inner city area in Berlin, former railway brownfield area.

From cases like the Tempelhofer Feld in Berlin, we learn how powerful the voice of citizens can be and that more collective planning of green spaces through active involvement of citizens in urban planning and decision making is important when contributing to a more resilient and just urban environment. Setha Low, a U.S. anthropologist, highlighted the participation of all affected groups in planning and design as a way of procedural justice—an important dimension in the socio-environmental justice debate. This includes, a screening of the local neighbourhoods to identify the potential user groups that can belong to different cultures and age groups and their needs and expectations. Integrating them may promote the right decisions for design features to development and to ensure that it is used and most beneficial for those living in the area.

Picture 3: Intercultural garden at the Gleisdreieck in the inner city area in Berlin, former railway brownfield area.

The Gleisdreieck in Berlin is a particular example where a former railway brownfield side was redeveloped into a multifunctional park. Public workshops and roundtable discussions took place to identify resident’s desires on how the area should be developed to make best use finally for all population groups. Today, the park integrates designated areas for wildlife conservation, lawns for relaxation or playing sports, large playground areas and nature experience areas for children at any age, bmx-areas and an intercultural community garden (Picture 2 to 4). As the integration of local residential groups in planning processes is already part of many development processes—at least in the developed world, we can state, that for procedural environmental justice, yes, we are a step further.

Picture 4: Nature experience areas for children at the Gleisdreieck in the inner city area in Berlin, former railway brownfield area.

Further reading:
Kabisch, N., Haase, D. (2014) Green Justice or just Green? Urban Green Space Provision in the City of Berlin. Landscape and Urban Planning 122, 129-139.

Kabisch, N., Strohbach, M., Haase, D., Kronenberg, J. (2016) Urban Green Space Availability in European cities. Ecological Indicators. http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.ecolind.2016.02.029

Haase, D., Kabisch, S., Haase, A., Kabisch, N. (2017): Greening cities to be socially inclusive? About the alleged paradox of society and ecology in cities, In: Habitat International 64, 41-48. doi: 10.1016/j.habitatint.2017.04.005.

Low, S. (2013): Public space and diversity: Distributive, procedural and interactional justice for parks. In G. Young, & D. Stevenson (Eds.), The Ashgate research companion to planning and culture (pp. 295–310). Surrey: Ashgate Publishing.

Lopes de Souza, M. (2017) For the Sake of the Common Good? “Gentrifying Conservationism” and “Green Evictions”, Rio de Janeiro. 13 August 2017.

TNOC [The Nature of Cities]. 2014. What are the social justice implications of urban ecology, and how can we make sure that “green cities” are not synonymous with “gentrified” or “exclusive” cities?

Jim Labbe

about the writer
Jim Labbe

Jim served Audubon Society of Portland’s Urban Conservationist from 2003-2016 where he led several habitat protection, access to nature, and constituency building projects. Jim is currently serving as the executive director of Depave.org. In his free time, Jim enjoys biking, dancing, studying Russian, playing music, and lollygagging in his garden.

Jim Labbe

Creating equitable biophilic cities by ending toxic urbanism

The case has been made. The evidence is in. The urbanization that destroys or degrades ecosystems and disconnects people from nature—what may now be aptly called “toxic urbanism”—is also a threat to human health and well being.

The urgent question is not should or how we end toxic urbanism and create biophilic cities. The question is whether we as communities will continue accept urban development that permits, abets, and reproduces it?
The long-intuited link between access to nature and human health in cities is now well documented in an enormous and continuing growing body of research. There is no reason to doubt a causal link between access to nature and multiple indicators of individual and community health in cities. Time and again research has shown a robust association between urban green infrastructure and improved mental and physical health of people and associated community well-being in urban neighborhoods. Research has also repeatedly shown the correspondingly toxic effects of under-natured urban places.[i] Take a basic indicator of human health such as birth outcomes. A series of independent, controlled studies replicated in cities in Europe and North America between 2011 and 2016 clearly and consistently document that a lack of urban trees and vegetation is associated with worse birth outcomes.[ii]

The preponderance of evidence is also clear with respect to who is most impacted by the legacy of toxic urbanism. Repeated analyses demonstrate low income people and people of color—a global majority—live in communities with less urban canopy and other green infrastructure and/or with less proximity or lower quality access to greenspace. These same demographic groups also face other social or cultural barriers at different spatial scales to the enormous health benefits of nature in cities.[iii]

We need not be bogged down in policy or technical questions as to how to more fully integrate nature and the built environment to create healthier, climate resilient cities. Issues of design and feasibility have been or are being overcome in tens of thousands of projects and experiments in hundreds of cities across the globe. Communities are learning from each other to put nature back in the city for biodiversity and human health. They are showing how to daylight urban streams; depave and regreen urban streets; incorporate green roofs, green walls, or other green infrastructure into the densest urban neighborhoods; expand and enhance the urban forest; create interlinked and nested regional systems of parks, greenways, and natural areas; and safeguard regionally critical food, forest and biodiversity lands.

So the salient, urgent question is not should or how we end toxic urbanism and create biophilic cities. The urgent question is whether urban planners, business and community leaders, and public officials continue accept urban development outcomes that permit, allow, abet and reproduce “toxic urbanism?” How can we not take bold action in implementing proven policies, finding needed resources, and focusing public attention on creating the equitable and ecological cities when what is at stake for the health of all our neighbors.

In my hometown of Portland, Oregon, a city much touted for its green urban and regional planning, we struggle to get beyond reputations and appearances to grapple with basic versions of these questions. We still ask ourselves whether we will widen freeways to achieve very dubious congestion relief. We ask ourselves whether we should exempt commercial and industrial lands from tree preservation and planting as an extremely dubious economic development strategy. We squabble over retaining outdated parking requirements or exclusive single-family zoning (sometimes, ironically, in the name of nature conservation) that locks low-income people out of affordable housing and good park access while increasing air and water pollution and exacerbating job-housing imbalances, not to mention increasing pressure for low-density greenfield development on the region’s edge.

Now more than ever, the imperative is to face political barriers to making just transitions to ecologically sustainable, biophilic cities and regions. To muster the will to act we must focus on tools and strategies that persuade the persuadable and allow the voices of disenfranchised majorities to be heard. This might start by recognizing and naming toxic urbanism and holding our leaders to account for its consequences. For many they have always been self-evident. Creating ecological, biophilic cities can no longer be the latest cache. It can’t be just about brandishing reputations of particular places or politicians to bolster tourism or attract outside investment, it must be about protecting everyone’s basic human health and ability to thrive in an equal opportunity society.

References

[i] James P, et al. 2015a. A review of the health benefits of greenness. Current Epidemiology Reports Vol. 2, pp. 131–142.

[ii] Ebisu K, et al. 2016. “Association between greenness, urbanicity, and birth weight,” Science of the Total Environment, Volume 542, Part A, 15 January 2016, pp. 750-756; Hystad P, et al. 2014. “Residential Greenness and Birth Outcomes: Evaluating the Influence of Spatially Correlated Built-Environment Factors,” Environmental Health Perspectives, pp. 1095; Markevych I, 2014. “Surrounding greenness and birth weight: Results from the GINIplus and LISAplus birth cohorts in Munich,” Health & Place Vol. 26 pp 39-46; Laurent O, et al. 2013. “Green spaces and pregnancy outcomes in Southern California,” Health & Place Vol. 24, pp. 190-195;  Dadvand P, et al. 2012. “Green space, health inequity and pregnancy,” Environmental International Vol. 40 pp. 110-115; Donovan GH, et al. 2011. “Urban trees and the risk of poor birth outcomes,” Health & Place Vol. 17 pp. 390-393.

[iii] Rigolon A, 2016. “A complex landscape of inequality in access to urban parks: A literature review,” Landscape and Urban Planning, Vol. 153, pp. 160-169; Zhou X, 2012. “Social disparities in tree canopy and park access: A case study of six cities in Illinois using GIS and remote sensing,” Urban Forestry & Urban Greening Vol. 12:1 pp. 88-97; Labbe J and Radin K, 2007 Regional Equity Atlas, Chapter 12 Parks & Nature, Coalition for a Livable Future, pp. 81-92; Tan PK and Samsudin R, 2017. “Effects of spatial scale on assessment of spatial equity of urban park provision,” Landscape & Urban Planning Vol 158, pp. 139-154.

Francois Mancebo

about the writer
Francois Mancebo

François Mancebo, PhD, Director of the IRCS and IATEUR, is professor of urban planning and sustainability at Reims University. He lives in Paris.

François Mancebo

Making ecosystem services and nature available does not mean making them accessible to everyone; they must be consistent with the existing social and cultural fabric.
Ecosystem services and urban nature for everyone! Great idea, but who is “everyone”? And who decides what is supposed to be good for “everyone”? As long as no response has been given to these two questions, all the claptrap about access and nature is just a big joke.

Let’s consider a place I know well: Paris. The spatial divide in the Ile-de-France—Paris’ metropolitan region—increased significantly in the last decade, between wealthy and poor people as well as between ethnic groups (though their existence is not officially recognized in France). Surprisingly, it coincided with environmental policies focused on the development of ecosystem services. What happened? One example—the disadvantaged quartier de la Goutte d’Or east of Montmartre, bordered by railways, technical facilities, and railroad tracks—should be enough to give you some insight. What is a quartier? Officially Paris is divided in 20 arrondissements and each arrondissement is divided in 4 quartiers. But in fact that’s really not what this policy is about: the municipality calls quartier a complex entity—usually smaller than the official quartiers—which partially overlaps that of neighborhood in other countries like the USA and has no administrative status.

In the seventies the Paris City Council initiated a program of urban renewal in this deprived area: libraries, parks and gardens (square Léon and square Amiraux-Boinod) were created, as well as swimming pools (piscine des Amiraux, piscine Bertrand Dauvin). But nothing changed for the population. Nobody frequented these new libraries, parks and pools. The population stuck to its usual way of living. These amenities were perceived as threats, put there only by the will of planners and local moguls, rather than opportunities for a richer life. It was not so much a matter of access and capability really. The people decided not to use them, because they considered that they didn’t belong to their world. They built an invisible wall between themselves and these amenities. I developed these aspects in a chapter of The Just City Essays. It says that people suffering from bad living conditions, are not only victims. They also are actors whose choices, convictions and presuppositions contribute to maintain, to worsen, and even in some cases to create the condition in which they live. That is to say that making ecosystem services and urban nature available does not mean making them accessible to everyone.

As I mentioned in a former post—Unintended Consequences: When Environmental Goods turn Bad—creating ecosystem services is not inherently “just” or “good”. Parks and gardens do not necessarily bring people together. They can also isolate people because they separate their homes. This aspect is in line with the Parisian history: the introduction of greenery by Haussmann was an attempt to control the use of public space by a technical approach based on hygienism. Its main function was to bring more sunlight to the city and better the air circulation. The city life was marked by socio-spatial differentiation, virtually segregated, embodied in a type of revegetation reduced to espaces verts. The very term espace vert (green area) reveals its real nature: “…by losing its name, the old urban garden or urban park is deprived of its positive attributes excepted the hygienic one… the espace vert is no longer a place but rather an indistinct area whose boundaries are decided in the abstract world of the master-plans…”

Thus, ecosystems services must be consistent with the existing social and cultural fabric, communities, local assets and resources, to effectively provide access to everyone, especially to the people living nearby. It means that maximizing wide-scale involvement, from the scratch, of local communities and neighborhoods in the design and management of these ecosystem services is crucial to improve justice and access.

Hita Unnikrishnan

about the writer
Hita Unnikrishnan

Dr. Hita Unnikrishnan is an Assistant Professor at The Institute for Global Sustainable Development, The University of Warwick. Hita’s research interests lie in the interface of urban ecology, systems thinking, resilience, urban environmental history, public health discourses, and urban political ecology as it relates to the evolution, governance, and management of common pool resources in cities of the global south.

Hita Unnikrishnan and Harini Nagendra

Urban commons—for whom and for what?

In today’s rapidly urbanizing world, the critical roles of equity, justice, and sustainability have long since been recognized. The Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) formulated by the United Nations makes explicit mention of Sustainable Cities and Communities within the contexts of equity and justice. But despite the fact that these elements of resilient cities have been recognized and measures taken to bring in some semblance of equitability and sustainability, cities of the global south such as Bengaluru, India, have operated historically and continue to do so through regimes fostering inequity, albeit through unintentional mechanisms.

Actions taken seemingly for the benefit of the resource (patrolling by guards, fencing, priced entry) often reveal a cultural imagination of nature that is dominated by the aesthetic and recreational, while exacerbating existing inequities in access to ecosystem services.
 Since the 6th century AD, Bengaluru’s growth has been supported by diverse urban commons—lakes, village forests, and open wells. These commons sustained human use, while also providing ecological and environmental functions such as biodiversity support, and cooling and ground water recharge in a hot and dry environment. Traditionally managed by communities through common property regimes, there were strong historical inequities in access based on wealth, caste, gender and social privileges. For instance, disadvantaged castes provided forced labour in the construction and reparation of lakes, and were often prohibited from utilizing water from open wells used by privileged caste groups. Yet despite the deep and undeniable inequities of the past, community relationships in villages were maintained and strengthened by collaborative management of the commons. For instance, community managed gunda thopes, or village forests, were used to provide for the community in festive gatherings such as annual village festivals, and times of distress such as during drought and famine. Oral interviews with older residents reveal the sense of pride and strong sense of attachment that residents had with elements of their natural landscape: lakes, village groves and grazing lands.

The advent of centralized piped water supply systems in the late 19th century disrupted the dependence on the commons, and fragmented community groups. Groups such as fishers and grazers, who derived material benefits from urban commons, began to be excluded as aesthetic and recreational values of natural spaces began to dominate. These resource users began to be excluded from important decision-making processes relating to these spaces as well, as a result of which many of Bengaluru’s lakes and wooded groves were converted to built spaces. A case in point is Bengaluru’s centrally located Sri Kanteerava Stadium, built on one of the city’s largest lakes, Sampangi lake.

Such exclusions are not restricted just to the past either. Recent experiments with private-public partnerships for lake management in Bengaluru have commoditised the urban commons, severely restricting the range of services available to traditional users based on their ability to pay. Many state and community-led lake restoration efforts also prioritize the values and needs of wealthier residents, but exclude marginalized resource users such as farmers and grazers, from access as well as from decision making. Consequently, actions taken seemingly for the benefit of the resource (such as patrolling by guards, fencing, and pricing entry) often reveal a cultural imagination of nature that is dominated by the aesthetic and recreational, while exacerbating existing inequities in access to ecosystem services.

Regardless of the form of exclusion—historic or present day; caste and community based, or on the basis of income—inequities in access to nature’s benefits are mostly borne by those who are already marginalized. Ironically, these are the people most dependent upon the resource to sustain their lives and livelihoods. Which begs the question: who really are urban commons for? And what is the best way to move forward?

Attempts at bridging the gap exist, though few in number and small in scope. Some community efforts to restore lakes in Bengaluru have attempted to address inequities by collaborating with diverse groups ranging from livestock owners to school children. An initiative by BIOME Environmental Solutions aims at restoring open wells in collaboration with a community of traditional well diggers, helping to improve water sustainability while empowering this marginalized but highly knowledgeable group. In a series of activities aimed at driving experiential learning on sustainability issues, a collective led by the city based organization—Daily Dump, has encouraged school students to engage with urban commons in the form of what might seem like an uninspiring space under a flyover, speaking to diverse people that use the space, such as drivers of buses, and street vendors, and tweeting their experiences using the hashtag #undertheflyover.

It is very well to state that inequity may be resolved by ensuring inclusive access to ecosystem services, but the road towards ensuring that equity is still fraught with challenge, situated on a foundation of often well-meaning exclusionary regimes. We need to highlight, study, and better understand such examples of collaborative community led efforts to ensure that diverse groups get access to ecosystems in the highly unequal urban contexts of today’s cities—to facilitate conditions for expanding these efforts at a larger scale.

Harini Nagendra

about the writer
Harini Nagendra

Harini Nagendra is a Professor of Sustainability at Azim Premji University, Bangalore, India. She uses social and ecological approaches to examine the factors shaping the sustainability of forests and cities in the south Asian context. Her books include “Cities and Canopies: Trees of Indian Cities” and "Shades of Blue: Connecting the Drops in India's Cities" (Penguin India, 2023) (with Seema Mundoli), and “The Bangalore Detectives Club” historical mystery series set in 1920s colonial India.

Steward Pickett

about the writer
Steward Pickett

Steward Pickett is a Distinguished Senior Scientist at the Cary Institute of Ecosystem Studies in Millbrook, New York. His research focuses on the ecological structure of urban areas and the temporal dynamics of vegetation.

Steward Pickett

The availability of ecosystem services for everyone is an unarguable moral stance. Achieving that goal of equitable access is difficult because ecosystem services take space to produce the structures and processes that constitute or generate ecosystem services. And space always seems to be limited or contested in urban areas—whether cities, suburbs, or their embedded or fringing production and wild lands.

Yet, there is a deeper, perhaps more fundamental stumbling block in assuring equal access: not everybody values the same services. An amenity in one neighborhood, or for one household, may be perceived as a burden by another.

The moral imperative of equitable service provision rests on a still deeper moral imperative to take the heterogeneity of people’s perceptions, values, and fears into account.
Let me give a couple of examples. Trees and urban tree canopy are almost always held up as a crucial provider of ecosystem services in cities and suburbs. Such benefits have been documented to include moderation of the microclimate in yards, along streets, and for whole neighborhoods. Yet, there are residents of cities and suburbs who fear or despise trees. How could this be?

Some people fear the crime or criminal activity they believe to be associated with trees. Trees are thought to provide hiding places for criminals or for their contraband. Residents don’t want trees to be planted in their neighborhoods, especially if the agencies or institutions planting the trees are perceived as outsiders, or as acting paternalistically. In Baltimore, however, there are data that explicitly demonstrate a clear correlation of lower violent and property crime in neighborhoods with more trees. Incidentally, the statistical relationship about tree canopy and crime holds regardless of social and economic differences. The Baltimore Ecosystem Study researchers do not argue that trees themselves reduce crime, but the association shows at least that trees can’t “cause” crime there. However, just because the data speak to the value of trees doesn’t mean that the fears of neighborhood residents can be dismissed.

Another issue with trees is that some city residents are worried about real nuisances or risks that trees generate. People dislike the sap deposited on their cars, or are troubled by the expense they might have to bear to manage street and yard trees, or do not want the hassle of removing of fallen leaves and branches. Ethnographic research in neighborhoods and interviews with arborists reveal that some working-class neighborhoods in Baltimore have a long-standing dislike of trees based on these nuisances. More subtly, some people dislike trees because they symbolize the messy countryside rather than organized city.

How does one, in such situations, provide the services of trees without disrespecting or annoying these residents?

Part of solving the problem of inequitable service provision is to deal with people’s actual perceptions and fears. Ignoring or disrespecting those perceptions and rolling out a plan to provide services or amenities that people fear or dislike is certainly not honoring the goal of equity. Discovering how people value or eschew the features or processes that provide services is therefore a crucial step in knowing how to meet the needs and match the values of different neighborhoods for ecosystem services. Respectful listening, patient explaining, sympathetic understanding of the perceptions of diverse peoples, and participation in ongoing dialogs may all be required. The moral imperative of equitable service provision rests on a still deeper moral imperative to take the heterogeneity of people’s perceptions, values, and fears into account. Equity does not necessarily mean doing the same thing everywhere.

Andrew Rudd

about the writer
Andrew Rudd

Andrew Rudd is the Urban Environment Officer for UN-Habitat’s Urban Planning & Design Branch in New York, where he leads substantive advocacy for the urban dimension of the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development (including the SDGs).

Andrew Rudd

I am a pessimist, but I think that without some degree of pessimism we are less attuned to what it happening around us—unless it is happening directly to us.
Call me Cassandra. I believe we are very far away from embracing this moral imperative, much less achieving it. Environmental crises around the world show that the poor are uniquely disadvantaged both in terms of environmental goods (i.e. restricted access to environmental benefits) and environmental ‘bads’ (i.e. disproportionate exposure to pollution and other environmental negatives). Nearly everywhere this appears to be getting worse. Focusing only on exposure to the bads: in the last month alone there have been record hurricanes in the Caribbean and US, a treacherous monsoon in South Asia, wildfires in Canada and the US, and an earthquake in Mexico. Human activity has exacerbated the severity of natural processes, but the culprits are rarely the victims. And even if the culprits are increasingly affected, it may not be enough to change business as usual. What is the future then? As Will Menaker recently said, either “something is invented that saves everyone or it’s not and everyone dies; either way we don’t learn” (https://soundcloud.com/chapo-trap-house).

In social media many protested the disproportionate focus of reporting on flooding from Hurricane Harvey in the US, where 71 died, as opposed to flooding from the monsoon in South Asia, where 1,300 did. This is worth our attention. But not as an “act of god”—rather as something within our collective power that we have so far declined to address. The countries emitting the most per capita are often not the ones at the most risk, and even those at highest risk are not necessarily always the ones experiencing the greatest destruction. In 2013 the US had a per capita greenhouse gas emission rate of at least 16 times that of Bangladesh (http://cait.wri.org/), despite facing less than one-sixth the risk of climate change induced-disaster (http://germanwatch.org/klima/cri11.pdf). Geographic location plays a part, but so does wealth: Bangladesh is already one of the poorest countries in the world, with a per capita GDP that is four percent of that of the US (https://www.indexmundi.com/g/r.aspx?v=67).

The impoverishment and vulnerability of much of Bangladesh’s population has come in large part as a result of Structural Adjustment Programs that—as elsewhere—have privatized public goods, reduced the quality and security of jobs and prompted land-grabbing and deforestation since the 1970s. Microfinance has not affected the overall trend. With very few means to evacuate—much less rebuild—the most vulnerable have little choice but to try to survive in place. In extremely population-dense countries like Bangladesh where privatization has destroyed river systems and exacerbated flooding, even internal relocation is not a realistic option. ‘[T]he dominant development paradigm…produces and reproduces poverty for many and affluence for the few, destroying nature and people’s lives’ (https://monthlyreview.org/2015/03/01/bangladesh-a-model-of-neoliberalism/).

Even in wealthier countries such as the US there is great inequality of exposure between and within cities. A number of newer cities in the “sun belt” of the US—such as Houston—have knowingly built and expanded in areas with disproportionate exposure to environmental bads (e.g. flooding, hurricanes, mosquitos) under the promethean belief that technology and optimism would trump nature. As a global petrochemical hub Houston is directly responsible for significant greenhouse gas emissions as a result of the oil and gas production process itself (https://www.foreffectivegov.org/oil-and-gas-production-major-source-of-greenhouse-gas-emissions-epa-data-reveals). And as a direct consumer of oil and gas Houston is also one of the highest per capita GHG-emitting cities in the US. Houston’s leaders have long touted its infinite room to expand and its pro-greenfield development policies have yielded low-density, energy-hungry sprawl that all but requires long commutes in private cars. With virtually no limits on impervious land cover, flood risk has increased.

Houston is increasingly coming to absorb some of the costs of these bads, though in a very uneven way. In general, around 40,000 houses were significantly damaged or destroyed, and despite the relative wealth of the region fewer than 20% of these properties were insured for flooding. Rarely did the city require it nor could the poor afford it. Still, many locals have responded with icarian stubbornness that the city will rebuild in many of the same locations. Past and current heads of the local flood control district, who are not directly accountable to Houston voters, deny the role of climate change in flooding and continue to champion engineering as a solution to the destruction and pavement of the flood-resilient prairie (https://theoutline.com/post/2202/climate-change-denial-should-be-a-crime). The city has virtually no land use zoning to ensure that toxic industries locate away from people and environmentally sensitive areas. There is only NIMBYism (“not in my backyard”) to distance them from the wealthy. And that means the refineries and chemical plants have ended up along the low-lying waterways in eastern Houston, in a corridor predominantly populated by poor Latinos (including Latino immigrants). Not only did the flooding from Hurricane Harvey stir up a noxious cocktail of carcinogens, it also prompted several hazardous explosions in the area.

The US pulling out of the Paris Agreement is going to make things even worse for the poor, particularly in less capacitated countries. There is simply too little action from those who are empowered to take action. But this isn’t necessarily due to lack of agency. Neoliberalism, which has weakened the state’s regulation of environmental bads, has also encouraged competition over cooperation, obscured responsibility and corroded the social interdependencies that once made it possible to commonly manage resources for the public good. Now transnational corporations are relocating their dirty work with increasing frequency to places with the most lax environmental and labor regulations. Unable to move, many people are simply stuck with the worst jobs that give them too few resources to live in all but the most vulnerable, polluted, and underresourced parts of the country.

I don’t see any of this changing soon.

I am a pessimist, but I think that without some degree of pessimism we are less attuned to what is happening around us—unless it is happening directly to us. We are less likely to hold elected officials accountable for the socioeconomic policies that are exacerbating inequality. And—according to some studies—we are less likely to resist pressure to harm the powerless. Without empathy for those who are far away and in the future, for the voiceless and for non-agents, as Dale Jamieson puts it (http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/wol1/doi/10.1111/1758-5899.12113/full), there is little hope for a human future on this planet, much less an environmentally just one.

Suraya Scheba

about the writer
Suraya Scheba

Suraya is a lecturer in the environmental and geographical sciences department, and postdoctoral researcher within the African Centre for Cities, at the University of Cape Town. She is interested in examining the politics and power geometries engaged in producing unjust urban forms, and relatedly the possibilities that exist in opening-up more just alternatives.

Suraya Scheba

How will we achieve universal access to ecosystem services and urban nature?

The current inability of the mainstream sustainable development agenda to address the destructiveness of capitalist metabolism, as it seeks to offer guidance for the next 20 years of urbanization, renders it largely impotent.
As support for sustainable development has gained momentum, this growing consensus on the urgency to promote sustainable, just, and inclusive cities (to deploy the rhetoric of the New Urban Agenda) has been accompanied by significant differences on the questions of what urban sustainability means, why, how to promote it, and for whose benefit. At the same time, the current mode of urbanization has led to increased environmental degradation, inequality, and exclusion. Therefore, in answering the question, “How will we achieve universal access to ecosystem services and urban nature?” I would like to suggest that what is needed is a fundamental rethinking of urban nature, the dynamics driving the production of unjust urban forms, and consequently more just alternatives. That is, we need to perform a radical reinvention of the production of the city from a socio-natural perspective, recognizing this as a deeply political, power-laden process, currently defined by a capitalist metabolism, with unsustainable consequences.

According to Joan Clos, the Executive Director of UN-Habitat, the 2016 World Cities Report unequivocally demonstrates that the the current urbanization model is unsustainable in many respects and needs to change to address issues such as inequality, climate change, informality, insecurity, and the unsustainable forms of urban expansion (United Nations, 2016). That is, cities are responsible for 70-80 percent of the world’s use of resources and most of the world’s waste, making them the key sites for confronting environmental degradation. They are also sites of widening inequality and exclusion, with 75 percent of the world’s cities having higher levels of income inequalities than two decades ago. Within this context, many cities today fail to make sustainable space for all (United Nations, 2016).

The dominant response to this pattern of unsustainable urbanisation, at a global scale, has come in the form of the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) and linked New Urban Agenda. Spurred on by more than two decades of mainstream sustainable development thinking, these agendas advocate a win-win market logic. In other words, they argue for the mobilization of eco-technical rationality, good governance, and behavioral change — all within the market — in order to deliver sustainable, just and inclusive urbanism. It is argued that the New Urban Agenda suggests a “paradigm shift” for pursuing the SDGs. However, despite this proclamation of “newness”, it remains path dependent on old methodological tools (e.g. indicators), techno-managerial solutions (e.g. smart cities), and institutional frameworks of ecological modernization (Kaika, 2017).

Following Urban Political Ecology, I believe that this is a deeply insufficient and problematic response, as it naturalises capitalism and consequently narrows the possible conversation that can be had on the emergence of more equitable and democratic patterns of urbanisation. In contrast, a more productive and radical response would be to bring into question the current mode of production, which, under capitalist social relations, prioritises the realisation of exchange value over use value . The dominance of exchange value promotes unsustainable consumption, extraction, and exploitative labour practice, in pursuit of accumulation. It is this logic of capitalist metabolism, that is responsible for our unsustainable mode of urbanization and therefore cannot constitute a central part of the solution! If we are to achieve universal, and more importantly equitable, access to the city (as socio-nature) what is needed is a fundamental challenge to this naturalisation of capitalist metabolism, as a central driver in the production of unsustainable urban forms at a global scale. The current inability of the mainstream sustainable development agenda to address the destructiveness of capitalist metabolism, as it seeks to offer guidance for the next 20 years of urbanization, renders it largely impotent.

Hence, in answering the question of “how just universal access can be achieved?”, I believe we need to question the very notion that “sustainability” can be achieved through engineering away the problem. Instead we need go deeper, into the heart of the problem, by unravelling the centrality of the techno-managerial focus of contemporary environmental governance, and moving instead toward a political conversation on how more equitable and democratic modes of governance and urbanisation can emerge (Swyngedouw, Kaika; 2014: 473). ria Kaika (2017), argues that the mainstream vision can only vaccinate “citizens and environments so that they can take larger doses of inequality and degradation in the future” (Kaika, 2017: 89), but does little towards meaningfully addressing the effects of global socio-environmental inequality. Within this context, an increasing number of communities are declining these packaged solutions and choosing instead to rupture this path dependency, aiming to establish effective alternative methods for accessing housing, healthcare, sanitation, etc. These dissensus-practices — chosen over the consensus-building offered through formal channels – are evidenced in Cape Town, Mumbai, New York, Barcelona, and many other cities across the world. We would do well to pay attention to these practices as they bring to our attention the grounded urgent needs to be addressed. This is how we might move toward a more radically transformative new urban agenda. One that ruptures, as opposed to perpetuates, the status quo.

References

Kaika, M. and Swyngedouw, E., 2011. The urbanization of nature: Great promises, impasse, and new beginnings. The new Blackwell companion to the city, pp.96-107.

Kaika, M., 2017. ‘Don’t call me resilient again!’: the New Urban Agenda as immunology… or… what happens when communities refuse to be vaccinated with ‘smart cities’ and indicators. Environment and Urbanization, 29(1), pp.89-102.

UN-Habitat, 2016. Urbanisation and Development: Emerging Futures. World Cities Report 2016. UN-Habitat, Nairobi, Kenya.

Marcelo Lopes de Souza

about the writer
Marcelo Lopes de Souza

Marcelo Lopes de Souza is a professor of socio-spatial development and urban studies at the Department of Geography of the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro.He has published ten books and more than 100 papers and book chapters in 6 languages

Marcelo Lopes de Souza

The “common good”—what an ambitious expression! As far as environmental protection is concerned, governments want us to believe that it is always performed precisely for the sake of the “common good”, or “public interest”. However, things are not that simple.

The spectre of “gentrifying conservationism” and “green evictions” will increasingly haunt segregated spaces and poor communities worldwide, using the “common good” argument as a convenient excuse.
From a socially critical viewpoint, environmental protection remains a dangerously vague expression, as long as the questions regarding which environment should be protected, how and for the benefit of whom are not adequately clarified. One of the dangers is what I have termed “gentrifying conservationism” (Souza, 2016a and 2016b). It corresponds to a truly exclusionary kind of environmental protection.

The reality that inspired me to suggest the expression “gentrifying conservationism” some time ago was in Rio de Janeiro, more specifically the tensions that have taken place in the buffer zone of the Tijuca National Park. There, a pro-environment and at the same time clearly anti-popular alliance has been especially developed in last decade. Located right in the heart of the city, the slopes of the Tijuca massif influence the landscape of many neighborhoods of the city—ranging from the privileged areas of the South Zone to many favelas. Of enormous relevance is the fact that the Tijuca massif comprises the 39.5 square kilometers Tijuca National Park. The strip of land that is the most densely populated portion of the buffer zone of the park is a perfect laboratory for watching the (geo)political instrumentalisation of the ecological discourse by agents directly or indirectly involved in the attempt to implement what could be termed a sort of non-murderous social cleansing.

A veritable crusade has been carried out by the public prosecutor’s office for environmental and cultural heritage issues of the state of Rio de Janeiro. According to that office, the favelas located in the buffer zone of the park are expanding rapidly and in aggregate form “a single spot comparable to Rocinha” (one of the largest favelas in Brazil and the largest one in Rio de Janeiro, whose population has been estimated at 200,000 inhabitants). Statements like this, as well as other comments made by public prosecutors, environmentalists, and others about the danger represented by the presence of informal settlements close to the park have been frequently published above all by Rio’s biggest newspaper, O Globo.

The corporate media has played a decisive role with regard to promoting an asymmetrical treatment of social classes by the state apparatus in Rio de Janeiro, and although the public prosecutor’s office has been the main institutional agent of the current attempt to promote the total or partial removal of the favelas located in the Tijuca massif, it can be said that its role has not only been made public and highlighted but probably also stimulated by mainstream media.

But the available data do not support the idea that the favelas of the Tijuca National Park’s buffer zone are expanding rapidly; according to reliable census data and even the municipal government’s own data, offered by the Pereira Passos Institute, this is far from being the case. Monitoring data based on satellite images from 1999-2013, carried out by the Pereira Passos Institute, make clear that the spatial growth of favelas in the buffer zone ranged from nothing to very little. Ten years after it was proclaimed, in 2006, that the favelas around Tijuca were expanding rapidly, this statement can finally be declared false. Likewise, the contention that these mostly small favelas are a threat to biodiversity can be declared contrary to fact. Moreover, while the public prosecutor’s office and the corporate media continue their anti-favela crusade, residential encroachment of the buffer zone by the middle class is left undisturbed, even where it occurs close to a favela targeted for removal. Clearly, the occupation of the same location by the middle class is not regarded by the state apparatus as an environmental threat.

In a book chapter on New Delhi, Asher Ghertner used the expression “green evictions”—a happy choice of words to express a very unhappy situation. He points out the “metonymic association between slums and pollution”, what seems to justify for Indian courts “slum removal as a process of environmental improvement”. If we expand the first remark a little bit—by means of including things such as environmental degradation and related ideas as part of the second term of that metonymic association—we can easily arrive at a description of Rio de Janeiro and many other, similar cases. In fact, “gentrifying conservationism” and “green evictions” (or “green displacement”, in more general terms) seem to be inextricably linked with each other, particularly (but by no means exclusively) in the Global South.

Factors such as the immediate cause or motivation, the role of specific organs of the state apparatus and of other agents (e.g. the corporate media and middle-class residents) and the way how affected poor people will react to threats of removal will obviously vary from case to case. However, one thing is certain: the spectre of “gentrifying conservationism” and “green evictions” will increasingly haunt segregated spaces and poor communities worldwide, using the “common good” argument as a convenient excuse.

A longer version of this essay appears here.

References

Ghertner, D. A. 2011. “Green evictions: Environmental discourses of a slum-free Delhi” in Peet, R. et al. (eds.): Global Political Ecology. London and New York: Routledge.

Souza, M. L. de 2016a. “Urban eco-geopolitics: Rio de Janeiro’s paradigmatic case and its global context”. City, 20(6), 765-785.

Souza, M. L. de 2016b. “Gentrification in Latin America: some notes on unity in diversity”. Urban Geography, 37(8), 1235-1244.

Diana Wiesner

about the writer
Diana Wiesner

Diana Wiesner is a landscape architect, proprietor of the firm Architecture and Landscape, and director of the non-profit foundation Cerros de Bogotá.

Diana Wiesner

Ecological services in a given place must be concerned with more than just the issue of nature itself: it must be remembered that these services are also loaded with meanings and memories that represent the soul of the community.
Where can I dream? Four dreams of life in Bogotá

In pondering the question: “Who should have access to the countless benefits and services that urban ecosystems provide?” We have put together a collection of six first- person accounts that portray city dwellers´ dreams.

Photo: Johanna Gonzalez

“My name is Jorge Enrique. I grew up in the country, but I had to leave during a period of political violence. I came to Bogota with my family. I dream about Bogota´s northern border being turned into a giant forest that would unite the eastern mountain range with the plateau below so that all the falling water could flow through it. Right now, the mountain formations can´t be together, but they are winking at each other and playing hide-and-seek, because they know that someday the giant forest will make their rendezvous possible.”

“My name is Enilfa. I live in a neighborhood in the southern part of the city. Most of the houses are only half-built, and the streets are filled with dust that comes from the nearby open-air quarries. Progress means that some of the streets have been paved. The truth is that most of the people who live here don´t want to see any trees planted because they would only give the criminals with knives in their hands a place to hide behind. If the city wants to build us a park, we just want playground equipment and benches in it.”

Moses. Photo: Lina Prieto

“My name is Moses, but some people can´t pronounce it right and they call me ´Moset´. I was born on April 4, 1928, and because of the political violence in the country I was forced to move to the northern part of Bogota with my family. I dream about us building a harmonious, mutually-dependent and reciprocal relationship with the communities in the mountains and with those who live along the banks of the Cedar Brook which pours into the Torca Brook and then into the Bogota River.”

Grandmother Blancanieves. Photo: Daniela Robayo

“I am the grandmother, Ichakaka Blanca. I belong to the indigenous nation of the Muiscas whose territory is called Bacata (Bogota). We lived here with my grandmother, Amalia, who was the doctor. She used traditional medicine from our territory to treat people. She applied the remedies herself. She also wove baskets and gathered all kinds of vegetables and medicinal plants to take to the October 12th Market Place where she bartered with them. It was a cultural exchange: she gave what she had brought for salt and cane sugar in return. Those are the things she would bring back home.

We need to have sacred places where we can plant our crops; what I see every day in the city are just more and more playing fields for sports being built. We need to have a beautiful place so we can live in dignity as human beings—that´s what we need the most: a place where we can go and speak to our ´Older Brother´; to our brothers and sisters, the trees; to nature; a place where we can rest.”

*  *  *  *  *

Sketches of Life Team: Daniela Robayo, Lina Prieto, Sandra Valencia, Laura García, Benoit de Santignon, Paula Faure, Johanna Gonzalez.

The Sketches of Life Initiative includes real life-stories as told by inhabitants from different corners of Bogota. This Initiative, carried out by Bogota Mountain Foundation volunteers, including Sandra Valencia, Johanna Gonzalez, Lina Prieto, Paula Faure, Daniela Robayo, Catalina Garcia, Benoit de Santignon, and Maria Alejandra Peña who recorded the observations, which reveal that ecological services in a given place must be concerned with more than just the issue of nature itself: it must be remembered that these services are also loaded with meanings and memories that represent the soul of the community. Therefore, plans based solely on quantitative distribution and indicators are insufficient: the soulfulness of the area´s inhabitants must also be taken into account.

In Bogota, we have a long way to go in fulfilling this moral obligation: an obligation, which demands that nature and the landscape, make up part of a more equitable city.1

For more of these stories, in English and Spanish, click here.

1Translated by Steven Bayless

Pengfei XIE

about the writer
Pengfei XIE

Pengfei is China Program Director of RAP (Regulatory Assistance Project). RAP is a US based non government organization dedicated to accelerating the transition to a clean, reliable and efficient energy future.

Pengfei XIE

Let us build more Green Infrastructure in urban areas

In an ideal situation, everyone would have equal access to nature and enjoy the benefits of ecosystem service. I strongly agree and support this view. However, in real life, the opportunity to access nature is usually unequal, which may affect the well-being of the general public.

I am happy to observe a tendency in Chinese cities that local stakeholders are more and more involved in the GI, introducing initiative in urban areas.
One approach to address this problem is to build more Green Infrastructure (GI) in urban areas, and we should mobilize communities and individuals to actively participate in building GI according to local conditions. We all know that natural resources distribute unevenly in space. The unevenness is reflected not only in different urban areas, but also shown between urban areas and rural areas. This geographical imbalance is one of the most important reasons why nature cannot be shared fairly among people. If we can bring more GI to urban areas, then everyone gets more chance to access nature.

According to the European Commission, GI is a strategically planned network of natural and semi-natural areas with other environmental features designed and managed to deliver a wide range of ecosystem services. It incorporates green spaces and other physical features in terrestrial (including coastal) and marine areas. It is significantly helpful in solving urban and climatic challenges that plaguing our cities today.

I don’t want to specify the details of GI in theory and practice; the point I want to highlight here is that we should mobilize communities and individuals to actively participate in building GI according to local conditions. The two stakeholders at the basic level (community and individual) need to create benefits of ecosystem service for themselves, rather than only wait passively and complain about the situation until local governments come to help. GI projects sometimes could be small projects that communities and individuals are able to fulfill, as they know the local conditions and needs better.

I am happy to observe a tendency in Chinese cities that local stakeholders are more and more involved in the GI, introducing initiative in urban areas. (1) A famous university committed to build a green campus in Shanghai, and is mobilizing the college students to produce designs and plans to renovate the campus. One idea is to transform the previous ditch into wetland. The project was successfully adopted by the university. (2) An urban community in a southern Chinese city implemented a green roof plan that is financially viable with the support of community residents. (3) A household contracted a small piece of unused land in the community, and planted vegetation cleverly. The barren land is now covered by green.

These self-motivated actions not only bring nature closer to individuals, but also provide ecological benefits to the residents.

 

New York’s Central Park as Muse, as Imagination, as Home

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

A review of: Painting Central Park, by Roger Pasquier. 2015. ISBN: 0-86565-314-3. Vendome Press, New York. 197 pages. Buy the Book.

For the past two years, I’ve invited people to pick free food on Swale, an edible public park built on a barge in New York City. Creating something unexpected is a technique that I’ve utilized on Swale to frame an engaging experience where visitors feel like they are on land and on water at once. Such an experience helps to connect visitors with common spaces in unusual ways. Reading Painting Central Park convinced me that, although a term usually reserved for ornamental architecture that is out of place, parks in cities are all follies to an extent. Through being out of place they insist we confront difference. Artists who paint the landscape inside of the city are drawn to these differences.

For over a century New York’s Central Park has been a muse for artists.

Throughout the book, artists’ interpretations of Central Park range from abstract to diaristic and photorealistic. The selection of artwork propels the reader into the book, and acknowledges how some of these images may inform our own cultural imaginations of the park, a park that has been a site of modern pilgrimage, a subject of many films, novels, and photographs that have circulated near and far.

With a preface by Amanda Burden, who asserts that it’s a human necessity to be able to engage with flora amidst urban street life, Roger Pasquier writes an homage to Central Park. He traces the history of the park through the original Greensward Plan, created by Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux. He describes the landmarks, buildings, and landscapes that were designed to be intentionally anomalous. Olmsted and Vaux’s plan utilized strategies from English landscape design, such as incorporating follies and other architectural structures for visual interest, while also embracing the grandness of the Catskills to the north. In 1858, 3,800 workers were employed to recreate what Olmsted and Vaux perceived were the better qualities of the less-colonized Catskills nearby.

Pasquier shares documents and accounts that evidence the architects’ obsessions with creating tension in a park visitor’s experience. They did this by framing Central Park’s multiple access points as a series of idealized viewsheds into the park, based on what catches peoples’ eyes, and what a painter may choose to paint.

With admiration, he takes us on a journey through some of the many artistic representations of Central Park via visual artists who made the 843 acres of hills, lakes, vegetation, and visitors their muse. We move from Jervis McEntee’s View In Central Park, 1858 (a stark meadow with scattered boulders) quickly to the more active paintings of Julius Bien. As Central Park grows into itself, the paintings and literary references describe a more communal place. That transition is described by two quotes from Henry James who witnessed the park shift over time. His first visit to the park was translated for his novel The Bostonians (1886) with “lakes too big for the landscape and bridges too big for the lakes”. Later in 1905, James observed:

The variety of accents with which the air swarmed seemed to make it a question whether the Park itself or its visitors were most polyglot. The condensed geographical range, the number of kinds of scenery in a given space, competed with the number of languages heard, and the whole impression was of one’s having but to turn in from the Plaza to make, in the most agreeable manner possible, the tour of the little globe.

From paintings of major landmarks like the Bethesda Terrace, to crowds ice-skating, and people in solitary contemplation, Pasquier helps us see a variety of different perspectives of the park. Reproductions are organized thematically, into sections with titles such as “The Park’s First Artists”, “Celebrations and Quiet Times”, and more. The selection of artwork propels the reader into the book.

Marc Chagall Vue de la Fenêtre sur Central Park, 1958.

From painters difficult to categorize such as Rackstraw Downes to the abstractions of Milton Avery and Helen Frankenthaler, or the photorealism of Richard Estes, Pasquier curates a voyage through time, power, beauty, and imagination. Pairing David Hockney’s View from the Mayflower Hotel, New York (Evening), 2002, next to Marc Chagall’s Vue de la Fenêtre sur Central Park, 1958 show artists as voyeurs and subjects; both chose to paint Central Park from windows inside of their rooms looking down on it.

The last chapter highlights the idea of the frame again, but this time it’s not the frame around the canvas or the perspectival views outlined by the park’s planners. Pasquier wants us to see the entire park as a painting, to picture Central Park from above, to imagine its vistas flattened and abstracted like a satellite image of the park, until we are indeed seeing a work of art meant for the wall. Perhaps my favorite chapter, because Pasquier asks us to suspend our belief in Central Park as Central Park, but rather to understand it as a painting too. We can imagine zooming upwards from the Metropolitan Museum of Art for a satellite view of the entire panorama, and then imagine that the Art Deco, Beaux-Arts, and Neoclassical buildings that immediately line the park are the first indentation of a Baroque frame. For blocks, we witness the wealth of this frame, every square foot ascribed extraordinary economic value, but then we are brought back to its focal point, Central Park, whose value can never truly be quantified.

New York’s Central Park. South is to the left. Image: Google Earth

In 1862, Harper’s Monthly said of Central Park, “the finest work of art ever executed in this country”, and the park draws admirers worldwide. Roger Pasquier grew up with Central Park. The idea for Painting Central Park came to him when he was working with environmental organizations in Washington, DC. He writes, “[t]here, nothing made me more homesick than looking at George Bellows’s Bethesda Fountain at the Hirshhorn Museum”.

Guy Wiggins “Central Park Skyline” 1936

In the summer heat, I hold my breath while looking at a representation of Guy Wiggins “Central Park Skyline” in wintertime, and realize it could encapsulate my own love for New York: the brilliant warmth and camaraderie from within the cold. I find myself yearning to be transported to Central Park, too.

Multiple cultural imaginations exist of Central Park, and this book is a gateway into some of them. As a good book tends to do, it leaves me wanting more. I look forward to a follow-up, part two of Painting Central Park, when Pasquier may take Jean Claude and Christo’s “The Gates” as an entry point to investigate some of the expanded fields of art. These could include both representation and active art, moving images and performances that are site-specific, or that Central Park is the main protagonist of. In a crowded city, a park is a landscape of difference. For over a century Central Park has been a muse for artists. These artists inform a growing cultural imagination about it.

Mary Mattingly
New York

On The Nature of Cities

To buy the book, click on the image below. Part of the proceeds return to TNOC.

Where Can I Dream? Eight Stories of Life in Bogotá

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

“We need to have a beautiful place so we can live in dignity as human beings—that’s what we need the most: a place where we can go and speak to our ‘Older Brother’; to our brothers and sisters, the trees; to nature; a place where we can rest.”
(Una versión en español, aqui.)

In pondering the question: “Who should have access to the countless benefits and services that urban ecosystems provide?” We have put together a collection of eight first-person accounts that portray city dwellers’ dreams.

Luisa. Photo: Johanna Gonzalez

This series of Sketches of life explores both individual and collective human experiences as participants narrate their lives and reveal their innermost thoughts. These acts of remembrance provide a key to human identity and give meaning and substance to daily life (Cifuentes A., 2016).[1]

I am Hernan Garcia, from the Barrancas-Quebrada el Cedro neighborhood located in Bogotá’s eastern foothills. I envision a movement that would revolve around the entire watershed basin … a territory that would take in both the brook and its basin … I dream about all of us forming a harmonious bond, one based on mutual interests and symbiosis with all the communities that live in the foothills, as well as with those located in the mid and lower basins which the Cedro brook flows through; I believe this is possible because part of this basin is located where the brook empties into the Torca stream, and further downstream into the Bogota River.  So, I dream about this territory being held together by water: by crystal-clear water, by marvelous biodiversity. I also think that eco-tourism could contribute to the development of these communities.”

My name is Neiphy. I’m 26 years old and I live in the Usme neighborhood in the southeastern part of Bogotá. The Tunjuelo River runs through it. I have heard that this river comes from a high mountain meadow. Being close to a river means that we live in a special place, but my kids don’t go out very much to explore the river and its surroundings because this a dangerous neighborhood. The only place for them to play outside is on a hilly area inside the housing project where only a few trees are growing.”

My name is Jorge Enrique. I was born in 1953. I grew up in the country, but I had to leave during a period of political violence. I came to Bogotá with my family. I dream about Bogotá’s northern border being turned into a giant forest that would unite the eastern mountain range with the plateau below so that all the falling water could flow through it. This would make the eastern mountain range happy because it would be brought closer to the Majuy hills located west of the city. Right now, these two mountain formations can’t be together, but they are winking at each other and playing hide-and-seek, because they know that someday the giant forest will make their rendezvous possible.”

My name is Enilfa. I live in a neighborhood in the southern part of the city, where I really don’t feel at home. Most of the houses are only half-built, and the streets are filled with dust that comes from the nearby open-air quarries. Progress means that some of the streets have been paved. The truth is that most of the people who live here don’t want to see any trees planted because they would only give the criminals with knives in their hands a place to hide behind. If the city wants to build us a park, we just want playground equipment and benches in it.”

Moses. Photo: Lina Prieto

My name is Moses, but some people can’t pronounce it right and they call me ‘Moset’. I was born on April 4, 1928, and because of the political violence in the country I was forced to move to the northern part of Bogotá with my family. I remember that at that time everything was very pretty; we hunted capybaras, armadillos and wild turkeys. Every year we used to have barbecues with the corn we raised in our garden; it wasn’t just about agriculture, but about the ritual of being together. I have dreams that I try to thread together: I dream about a neighborhood where the young people and everybody else knows where they come from so they can work together within their own culture. I visualize a territory made up of waterways that starts where the water springs from the soil. I dream about us building a harmonious, mutually-dependent and reciprocal relationship with the communities in the mountains and with those who live along the banks of the Cedar Brook which pours into the Torca Brook and then into the Bogotá River.”

My name is Ligia Hernan. Take for example the Bogotá River … you travel to other places and you find cities that have big rivers running through them. Why isn’t the Bogotá River the city’s most important feature? Instead, here you have the impression that the river is “just over there”, that it’s better to not even look at it, that it’s something of an eyesore, that it doesn’t even move … you should be able to walk along the river and come upon birds and fish.  It’s something we’ve lost without even realizing it … it’s sad, isn’t it?  So, what happened?  People still strongly believe that they can only be living well if they have pavement beneath their feet.”

Granmother Blancanieves. Photo: Daniela Robayo

I am the grandmother, Ichakaka Blanca.  My words carry the most weight in the Council of Women here in Suba, located in the northwestern part of Bogotá. I belong to the indigenous nation of the Muiscas whose territory is called Bacatá (Bogotá). I have always lived in my territory. I am a daughter of Mother Lagoon because I was born in Aguascalientes in the region of Mother Lagoon, and it is where I still live. We lived here with my grandmother, Amalia, who was the doctor. She used traditional medicine from our territory to treat people. She applied the remedies herself. She also wove baskets and gathered all kinds of vegetables and medicinal plants to take to the October 12th Market Place where she bartered with them. It was a cultural exchange: she gave what she had brought for salt and cane sugar in return. Those are the things she would bring back home.”

“I dream about seeing our Pusmuyes (houses) being built. As the first nation and inhabitants of this sacred Muisca territory, we need to have our territory given back to us. We need to have sacred places where we can plant our crops; what I see every day in the city are just more and more playing fields for sports being built. We need to have a beautiful place so we can live in dignity as human beings—that’s what we need the most: a place where we can go and speak to our ‘Older Brother’; to our brothers and sisters, the trees; to nature; a place where we can rest.”

Photo: Andrés Angel
Mister Poveda-Romero with Sandra Valencia. Photo: Sketches of Life Team

My name is Edgar Armando Poveda-Romero. I’m not a native son to these parts [I was not born in Bogotá]. We came here as outsiders 50 years ago. I was born in a gunny-sack where they planted potatoes, 59 years ago, on November 23, 1957. We had milk, farmer’s cheese and eggs, which meant that the country people really didn’t need any money for groceries because we raised our own food with our own hands. As a community, we all belonged to the same family; we lived in harmony. If you were at your neighbor’s house at noon, you all shared lunch from the same pot, followed by a cup of hot chocolate. It was a big family-style meal. What they call Bear Mountain here represents love for this place, for life, for the will to live. In the future, I would like to see everybody interested in this place because they really care about it from the bottom of their hearts, not because they have to be thinking about the environment.”

Sketches of Life Team: Daniela Robayo, Lina Prieto, Sandra Valencia, Laura García, Benoit de Santignon, Paula Faure, Johanna Gonzalez

The Sketches of Life Initiative includes real life-stories as told by inhabitants from different corners of Bogota. This Initiative, carried out by Bogotá Mountain Foundation volunteers, including Sandra Valencia, Johanna Gonzalez, Lina Prieto, Paula Faure, Daniela Robayo, Catalina Garcia, Benoit de Santignon, and Maria Alejandra Peña who recorded the observations which reveal that ecological services in a given place must be concerned with more than just the issue of nature itself: it must be remembered that these services are also loaded with meanings and memories that represent the soul of the community. Therefore, plans based solely on quantitative distribution and indicators are insufficient: the soulfulness of the area’s inhabitants must also be taken into account. In Bogotá, we have a long way to go in fulfilling this moral obligation: an obligation, which demands that nature and the landscape, make up part of a more equitable city.  [2]

Diana Wiesner Ceballos
Bogotá

On The Nature of Cities.


[1] Cifuentes, Andrés. 2016. Saberes de vida para dar vida historias de vida de comunicadores populares, Editor: Corporación Escuela de Artes y Letras. Bogotá, Colombia

[2] Translated by Steven Bayless


¿A donde puedo soñar? Ocho relatos de vida en Bogotá

 Mediante unos relatos reales pongo a consideración la reflexión planteada respecto a la pregunta sobre ¿Quién debería tener acceso a los innumerables beneficios de los servicios de los ecosistemas y la naturaleza urbana? y la coincidencia con ocho historias y ocho sueños ciudadanos.

“Nosotros necesitamos tener un espacio lindo, digno, como seres humanos para vivir, eso es lo que más necesitamos, ese espacio donde nosotros podamos ir a hablar con nuestro hermano mayor, con nuestros hermanos árboles, hablar con la naturaleza, poder descansar”.
Doña Luisa, Paramo de Guerrero. Foto: Johanna Gonzalez

Historias de vida indaga de las experiencias humanas individuales y colectivas, tomando la interioridad del personaje para darle voz a través de su narrativa de vida; permite construir una visión de la sociedad en conjunto, además de acercarnos a la memoria, elemento clave para la identidad humana, la cual da sentido y contenido a la vida (Cifuentes A, 2016)[1].

Me llamo Hernán García Cerros Orientales, Barrio Barrancas-Quebrada el Cedro. “me imagino una dinámica de cuenca, el territorio entendido desde el agua y la cuenca, es importante entender desde donde nace el agua y donde desemboca, entonces yo sueño con que nosotros establezcamos un vínculo armónico, mutualista y simbiótico con las comunidades de los cerros, y de las comunidades de la cuenca media y baja de la quebrada el Cedro, porque parte de esta cuenca desemboca al Torca y luego al río Bogotá, entonces sueño este territorio conectado a través del agua y con agua impecable y una biodiversidad maravillosa y creo que desde el turismo responsable puede haber ese desarrollo en las comunidades.”

Soy Neiphy, tengo 26 y vivo en un barrio al suroriente de Bogotá, llamado Usme. Es un lugar que lo recorre el rio Tunjuelo que desciende de un paramo de donde me cuentan viene el agua de la ciudad. “A pesar de parecer un lugar único, mis hijos solo cuando se arriesgan con temor de la inseguridad llegan a ver el rio. El único juego que encuentran es un rodadero en la mitad de lo que dejo la urbanización casi sin árboles”.

Mi nombre  es Jorge Enrique, “nací 1953, soy de origen campesino, en medio de la violencia política, nos desplazamos a vivir en Bogotá. El borde Norte  de la ciudad lo sueño como un gran bosque que posibilite un encuentro entre la montaña, la planicie y que las aguas discurran, fluyan como transmitiendo ese deseo que de pronto tienen los cerros de oriente se acerquen con los cerros del Majuy en el occidente, y con un guiño se hacen esquivos y entre ellos saben, que por ahora no van a estar juntos pero, que de pronto pueden tener la posibilidad de encontrarse en un gran bosque”.

Me llamo Enilfa, vivo en un barrio de la zona sur en el que no puedo ubicarme bien, predominan casas en proceso de construcción, calles cuyo cielo se llena de polvo que viene de las montañas excavadas por las canteras que aún funcionan o que dejaron abiertas. El desarrollo trajo la pavimentación de algunas vías, y la verdad la gente que vive acá no quiere que siembren árboles, pues pueden ser lugares de inseguridad, donde se esconden los cuchillos para robar. Preferimos que si nos hacen un parque solo tenga juegos  y bancas.

Moses. Photo: Lina Prieto

Me llamo Moisés,  “a veces  se traban y me dicen  MONSIETE, nací  El 4 de abril de 1928, llegamos por la violencia desplazados a Bogotá por la zona norte. Me acuerdo que todo eso era muy bonito, había algo que cazar como Borujos, Armadillos, Pavas . Todos los años hacíamos asados con las mazorcas de la huerta; no solo ha sido un tema de agricultura, sino también un rito de compartir. Yo tengo sueños que he tratado de ir enlazando, sueño un barrio donde los jóvenes y todas las personas reconozcan el valor de su origen y se trabaje a partir de una cultura propia. Imagino un territorio entendido desde el agua y la cuenca desde donde nace el agua. Sueño con que nosotros establezcamos un vínculo armónico, mutualista y simbiótico con las comunidades de los cerros, y de las comunidades de la cuenca media y baja de la quebrada el Cedro, porque parte de esta cuenca desemboca al Torca y luego al río Bogotá”.

Ligia Hernán “por ejemplo el río Bogotá… uno va a  otras parte y uno ve que dentro de las ciudades pasan ríos grandes, ¿por qué aquí el rio Bogotá no puede sentirse dueña de la ciudad? El rio esta como por allá, como que mejor no lo miro, esa destrucción que uno ve ahí , como que no se mueve nada, uno esperaría ver al lado del rio pajaritos, peces. Y eso es como una perdida que uno no fue consciente de que se dio, es como triste ¿no?, qué sucedió… se sigue pensando que lo que es bueno es que la gente vive bien porque  tiene el piso pavimentado. ”

Abuela Ichakaka Blanca. Foto: Daniela Robayo.

Soy la abuela Ichakaka Blanca. “Soy la palabra mayor aquí en el consejo de mujeres de Suba, al noroeste de Bogotá, soy la abuela Muisca del territorio acá de Bacatá. Siempre he vivido aquí en mi territorio. Soy hija de Madre Laguna, pues nací en la Laguna Sagrada de Aguascalientes y aquí estoy. Nosotras vivíamos acá también con mi abuela Amalia, que era como la médica tradicional de territorio Y era la que daba la medicina, también era tejedora de esteras y también ella recolectaba mucho, todo lo que era la verdura y todas las plantas medicinales pa’ llevarlas a la plaza del 12 de octubre, para hacer el trueque, el intercambio cultural de todo esto; lo que no había acá, más que todo era la sal y la panela, así que  era lo que ella traía de allá.

Me sueño una construcción de nuestros Pusmuyes (casas), y como primeros nativos y vivientes de este territorio sagrado Muisca necesitamos nuevamente nuestro territorio. Necesitamos tener espacios sagrados donde sembrar, pues cada día amanecen en la ciudad mas canchas deportivas. Nosotros necesitamos tener un espacio lindo, digno, como seres humanos para vivir, eso es lo que más necesitamos, ese espacio donde nosotros podamos ir a hablar con nuestro hermano mayor, con nuestros hermanos árboles, hablar con la naturaleza, poder descansar”.

Foto: Andrés Angel
Don Poveda con Sandra Valencia Foto: Equipo Historias de vida

Mi nombre es Edgar Armando Poveda Romero, “no soy rasal de aquí de la región, nosotros lléganos aquí como forasteros hace 50 años, nací en unos costales en un campamento donde se cultivaba la papa, hace 59 años, el 23 de noviembre de 1957. Había leche, cuajadas, huevos, es decir, el campesino prácticamente no necesitaba tanta plata para completar la canasta familiar, porque la mayoría de producción alimentaria se generaba aquí, del trabajo de los campesinos y en el tema social, todos éramos  una sola armonía, una sola familia, llegaba al medio día a la casa del vecino, así estuviera almorzando y siga para la olla del fogón, y le compartían, tómese un tinto un cacao, y se participaba de lo que estaban compartiendo en familia… La montaña del oso representa una convicción por el amor del lugar, a mi vida, las ganas de vivir, y a futuro me gustaría ver un conglomerado de personas que a conciencia valoren este lugar, no por necesidad del tema ambiental, sino por convicción”.

Algunos miembros del Equipo Historias de Vida: Daniela Robayo, Lina Prieto, Sandra Valencia, Laura García, Benoit de Santignon, Paula Faure y Johanna Gonzalez

En la iniciativa llamada Historias de Vida, narraciones reales de habitantes de distintos rincones de Bogotá la Fundación Cerros de Bogotá (www.cerrosdebogota.org), grupo de voluntarios ciudadanos, liderada por Sandra Valencia; Johanna González, Lina Prieto, Paula Faure, Alejandra Peña recogen los relatos que dan cuenta de que los servicios de la naturaleza van mas allá y están cargados de significado y memorias que representen un lugar del alma de esa comunidad. Por lo tanto, hay que ir mas allá de pensar en distribución e indicadores cuantitativos, hacia indicadores desde el alma de sus habitantes. En Bogotá, estamos lejos de cumplir ese imperativo moral para que la naturaleza  y el paisaje participen en la noción de ciudades justas.

Diana Wiesner Ceballos
Bogotá

On The Nature of Cities.


[1] Cifuentes, Andrés. 2016. Saberes de vida para dar vida historias de vida de comunicadores populares, Editor: Corporación Escuela de Artes y Letras. Bogotá, Colombia

 

Thinking About the Concept of “Cultural Nature” while Walking the Gardens of Méréville

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
Man is part of nature, and the conservation of natural and cultural heritage, including intangible heritage, can go hand in hand.
The first time I visited the Méréville Estate and its Anglo-Chinese garden, created south of Paris at the end of the 18th century, I was struck by the interlinking of nature and culture in this amazing place. This National Heritage Site is the work of the Marquis de Laborde, who acquired the estate in 1784 and involved the greatest artists of his time (the architect Bélanger and the painter of the rocks Hubert Robert). The landscape created evokes a sublimated nature, punctuated by follies, utilitarian and decorative garden buildings. The walker is invited to follow a path of sensations, along which succeed different “scenes” with varied characters. In this kind of initiatory journey, he explores, with all his senses, the links between man and landscape. He is an observer of the natural life, in the sense given by the natural philosophy of the Enlightenment (Baridon, 1998, p.835).

View of the castle and the Méréville Gardens. Photo: S.Becher, 2016

What is striking in Méréville is the conjunction between the cultural creation of a “natural” landscape and the way in which this landscape has evolved. Nature has, little by little, regained its rights, thanks to the gradual abandonment of the estate in the course of its history. To an undiscerning eye, the garden now appears as a natural valley in which the meanderings of the river, the groves, rocks, caves, and other waterfalls seem to have existed from time immemorial. This soothing landscape, pleasant for walking and meditation, seems just out of a painting by Hubert Robert! http://www.essonne.fr/no-cache/diaporama/diapo/domaine-de-mereville/

The Nathalie Island with, in the background, the Trajane column, one of the main follies of the 18th century. Photo: L.Bruno, 2017

Over several years of research and work on protected natural areas, especially in urban areas, I have observed how humans manage this “nature”, which is considered as wilderness. In the gardens of Méréville, I found myself faced with the same type of paradox created by human intervention on natural environments: Can a landscape that has undergone human intervention still be considered “natural”? If the resulting “cultural nature” is not less rich in native biodiversity, why would its conservation value be lessened as compared with other areas considered “wilderness”?

The (artificial) rockfall scene. Photo: L. Bruno, 2017

In the case of Méréville, man created an irregular garden in which he sought to reproduce the idea of nature, as conceived in the 18th century. This was a romantic nature, idealized and punctuated by the follies that make it so picturesque, while recalling the links of man with the natural world. Time has made the imagined landscape truer than nature itself.

Hiking in the historical garden is a bit like exploring a natural protected area. Its panoramic structure seeks to reach the great wild landscapes and create the effect of surprise and admiration on the visitor, as an explorer discovering “wild” nature. Here is a meander of river, an island, a lake; there are rocks and caves; and for the adventourous who dare advance to the bottom of the park, there is a great waterfall with rustling waters.

The vegetable garden. Photo: L.Bruno, 2017

In the case of urban protected areas, and protected areas in general, men intervene to protect, manage and preserve a space considered as natural, in a way that recalls the gardener caring for his garden. The very fact that there is human intervention, to manage and protect biodiversity, guides the evolution of the protected area and transforms it de facto from a natural place into a cultural place, or even an artefact, into the etymological meaning of the term, “made by the hand of man”. Nature thus meets culture, which does not prevent it from enriching itself by this “fertilization”.

The castle of Méréville (13th-18th century). Photo: L. Bruno, 2017

The conservationists will forgive me my audacity, but can we speak of a “natural area” in the case of a “domestic nature”, even in a national park with big cats? The evolution of the nature and the culture concepts opens our mind to that of “cultural nature”. It has been demonstrated in the Amazon Rainforest, which is a “garden” cultivated by the Amerindians for their needs for the centuries (Hladik, 1996); in the Sanjay Gandhi National Park, Mumbai, where tribals cultivate and find medical and food plants among the highest density of leopards in the world; or in the Tijuca National Park in Rio, a “cultural” forest replanted by men. The recognition of the “cultural nature” value could contribute to integration of traditional knowledge into the management actions of protected areas. The survival of the Nairobi National Park, Kenya, depends to a large extent on the traditional Maasai knowledge to maintain the seasonal wildlife migratory corridor, linking the south of the park with the Athi Kapiti Plains, the “Maasai Garden”.

The castle seen from the entrance meadow with the two-century-old plane trees. Photo: L.Bruno, 2017
The Ruined bridge, created per se. Photo: L.Bruno, 2017

The hand of the man who protects and manages a so-called “natural” area in order to conserve it does not, in any way, diminish the importance of conservation actions or the value of the landscapes and the biodiversity conserved. Rather, the growing awareness of the need for human intervention and the beneficial transformation that it can bring about should lead to fundamentally different conservation practices. For it means to recognize man as part of nature and his responsibility, both in its transformation and preservation.

In Méréville, human intervention is the basis of the landscape built. There, conservation issues of the natural and cultural heritages intertwine. Most of the large trees planted in the 18th century were replaced or simply cut out by former landowners, in particular a forestry tradesman. But in this place preserved from visitors for several years, the herbs have pushed everywhere, good and bad. The river, whose bed has been moved and traced to draw curls, to throw itself into large and small waterfalls and to cross lakes, has gradually faded and flows slowly, as if for it time had stopped. The rocks and caves, covered with vegetation and blackened by the centuries, have such a “natural” character that they would deceive the most knowledgeable climbers. Many follies of the 18th century garden were sold and exiled to Jeurre Estate, 20 km further north. The remaining follies, including the castle almost in ruins and the “Swiss farm”, accentuate the natural character of the landscape, now housing a fauna and flora so important that it is classified a “Natural Area of Ecological, Floristic and Faunistic Interest” (ZNIEFF: Zone naturelle d’intérêt écologique, floristique et faunistique; https://inpn.mnhn.fr/zone/znieff/110001587). The protection of this area was motivated by the presence of wetland habitats of patrimonial interest (wood of alders, willows and sweetgale).

The orchard. Photo: L.Bruno, 2017
The Rocks bridge: Photo: L.Bruno, 2017
The Rocks bridge and the small waterfall. Photo: L.Bruno, 2017

The parallelism between a natural area and a cultural site is not obvious, but it allows us an interesting reflection on the different levels of intervention and the power games played in the protected sites whether natural, such as a national park, or cultural, as a heritage site. The UNPEC research program (Urban National Parks in Emerging Countries & Cities, 2012-2016) analyzed the linkages and the relationships between the multiple stakeholders interacting with this type of protected area, managed at the national level, in a local (city) and regional (state, county, region) context and whose status, particularly symbolic, is strongly influenced by the international bodies.

In 2016, the Department of Essonne, owner of the Méréville Estate, decided to reopen the gardens to the public. The project involves a slew of stakeholders from many institutions. They come from the level of the French National State (Heritage Site, Archaeological Service, Environmental Department, etc.); the Ile-de-France Region, where it is located, the Department of Essonne itself and the Méréville Municipality, but also the Agglomeration of which it is a part. In 2017, the Department of Essonne has created the “Essonne Mécénat” Foundation, to look for financial support for the conservation, restoration and improvement of the Department’s natural and cultural heritage, including the Méréville Estate (http://www.essonne.fr/le-mecenat-au-service-de-lattractivite-de-lessonne/). This new public-private partnership initiative is still quite innovative in France. As part of this logic, a call for projects was launched with the aim of establishing a public-private partnership for the restoration of the castle, the main folly of the garden, which is now almost in ruins (https://fr.calameo.com/read/003221600d33fca1193d8).

The mill, in the entrance meadow, supplied running water to the castle. Photo: L.Bruno, 2017
The Golden Globes Bridge. Photo: L.Bruno, 2017
The Great Waterfall (currently out of the water). It has not flowed for more than 50 years. Photo: L.Bruno, 2017

The restoration of the garden and its hydro-ecological system reveals some contradictions of environmental and heritage law. From the environmental point of view, the ecological integrity of the river must be restored and the obstacles created by man destroyed. It means destroying the waterfalls and lakes created in the 18th century. A hypothesis unimaginable from the cultural heritage point of view. The rehabilitation project of the historic paths calls for the expertise of archaeological excavations (National Institute for Preventive Archaeological Research). For every path traced, every grove site, every meander of the river, every rock, was thought to build this surprising landscape. Therefore, to meet the requirements of one law, technical choices require compromises with the other.

Chris Sandbrook speaks of plural conservation in the 21st century, and proposes a fairly wide definition which encompasses the diversity of conceptions of what nature conservation can be today: “actions that are intended to establish, improve or maintain good relations with nature” (Sandbrook, 2015, p.565). This plurality could also be applied to the conservation of cultural heritage.

The ruins of the dairy. Photo: L.Bruno, 2017

While conservation is now composed of multiple means and various actions for natural and cultural sites, each one, in its cultural, socioeconomic and political context must find where to position the cursor between a traditional form of conservation, and opening up to the territory as well as its actors and inhabitants.

The new pond, created in Méréville in the early 20th century, is hidden discreetly in the meadow. It has become a refuge for wildlife, especially for birds such as the grey heron, looking for a secure breeding site on their migratory route. This element in particular has inspired a proposal for sectorisation of how the Méréville Estate, itself inspired by the sectors of national parks such as Table Mountain, Cape Town, and Tijuca, Rio. This system makes it possible both to regulate and secure visitation, and to protect the biodiversity of the site, including preserving certain areas from anthropogenic disturbance. The internal rules complete the protection of the natural and cultural elements of the site and the visitors.

The Wetlands. Photo: L.Bruno, 2017

But the park today (58 ha) is only a fragment of the 18th century property (400 ha). Beyond the walls, urbanization has come to nibble fields and forests but left in the valley floor marshes, now classified as Sensitive Natural Areas (ENS: espace naturel sensible) property of the Department of Essonne.

These natural areas follow the river for more than 2 km until the small village of Boigny. There are the stone quarries named “Carrières des Cailles”. It is one of the thirteen protected sites of the Essonne Natural Geological Reserves (http://www.reserves-naturelles.org/sites-geologiques-de-l-essonne), which are the witnesses of the last marine transgression at the Paris basin (-33.7 and – 28 million years).

The four sectors of the Méréville Estate: free access; regulated tour; guided tour only; quiet zone for nature conservation. Credit: Conseil départemental de l’Essonne, 2017
The small pebbles (“cailles”), used in the Méréville Garden for the paving of the paths and the caves, came from the sands of the Stampien Age[1] found in this location. The loop is thus looped, linking the odd cultural heritage of the historic garden, the sensitive natural heritage of the wetlands, and the remarkable geological heritage of the Stampien Age. The complementarity of the exceptional heritage value of these three sites, belonging to the Department of Essonne, makes Méréville a unique place for the dialogue between nature and culture. There, the two meet, complement and value each other. An intelligent and integrated management of the three sites could contribute to the acceptance of the “cultural nature” concept.

This could lead to changes in the management of heritage areas, both natural and cultural, particularly in urban and peri-urban areas, and to definitively integrate the value of human intervention into a proactive conservation.

Louise-Lézy Bruno
Paris

On The Nature of Cities

[1] The Stampien is both an age of the geological timescale and a stage in the stratigraphic column. LOZOUET P., 2012


References
M., HLADIK A., PAGEZY H., LINARES O., KOPPERT G. et FROMENT A. dir., 1996, L’alimentation en forêt tropicale : Interactions et perspectives de développement. Paris, UNESCO, vol. I, 639 p. http://horizon.documentation.ird.fr/exl-doc/pleins_textes/divers09-03/010009721.pdf

BARIDON M., 1998, Les Jardins, Paysagistes, jardiniers, poètes, Coll. Bouquins, Robert Lafon, Paris, 1260 p. http://www.bouquins.tm.fr/site/les_jardins_paysagistes_jardiniers_poetes_&100&9782221067079.html

SANDBROOK C. “What is conservation?”, Oryx, 2015, 49(4), 565-566© 2015 Fauna & Flora International. https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/oryx/article/what-is-conservation/01CD7B55A1D009475B9A83ED15C78468

LOZOUET P., 2012, Stratotype Stampien, Editions Biotope, 460 p. https://www.abebooks.fr/Stratotype-Stampien-Lozouet-P/11487880954/bd

 

 

 

 

The Sustainability Challenge of Feeding Cities

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
Until urban planners begin to internalize and address the organization of city food systems, we cannot talk about a complete urban sustainability.
The food system is not as evident as other aspects of urban development. However, it involves many aspects of cities, such as mobility and transportation, commerce, land use, waste management, and, of course, food security.

The food system refers to processes that begin with agricultural production and continues with the processing, packaging and transport that is the result of food industrialization. This industrialization started with the improvements to agricultural production during the 20th century, the so-called “green revolution”. They led to an increase in crop yields and reduction in manpower, which has resulted in the massive abandonment of the countryside and fueled in part the migration to the cities.

A public market of Barcelona city. Feeding is an urban activity where the only visible chain of the whole food system is retail and consumption. Photo: Graciela Arosemena

The industrialization of agriculture also began the process of territorial segregation between food-growing areas and urban settlements, along with a high consumption of fossil fuels, from the manufacture of fertilizers and pesticides to all phases of production: planting, irrigation, harvesting, distribution and packing. This food production system, not only supplies food for city dwellers, but also contributes to several environmental impacts, including climate change. Thus, everyday eating habits have strong relationships to environment degradation.

On the other hand, the world urban population has been growing during the last century, and since 2008, for the first time in history of humanity, more than a half the world’s population lives in cities. Basically, almost all of the coming decades’ population growth will be urban, and if the current tendency toward the growth of cities continues, 70-80 percent of global population is expected to live in world’s cities by 2050, we get an idea of how important one of the urban challenges is: how to feed this growing urban growing population with the least environmental impact.

Urban food environmental impact

Something as mundane as nutritional habits may have a relationship to environment degradation. What we choose to eat is responsible for more or less impact in two fundamental ways. First, food production and transportation depends on fossil fuels. The second depends on how many animal products are consumed. These food factors have diverse environmental impacts, but also, in the case of the industrial food system, has had regional (territorial)consequences in how urban space is organized, due to segregation of food growing areas from urban settlements. This functional specialization, first at a territorial level, and later at a global level, sustained by increased reliance on fossil fuel has compounded the environmental impacts of the urban food system, such as climate change, but there are also other environmental impacts.

Urban food systems, are responsible for large environmental impacts, involving erosion, deforestation, water and soil pollution, etc. But this essay is focused fundamentally on the environmental impacts from a point of view of the resource consumption needed to feed cities—energy, water and land; and consequences like climate change, and deforestation.

Read a review of the author’s recent book on urban agriculture here.
Climate change

The conventional urban model, from an urban ecology point of view is unproductive; It doesn’t generate any resources needed to function. That is why cities are highly dependent on a global transport network, and consequently are tied to continuous fossil fuels consumption, being always affected by fuel availability and price.

But climate change is only one side of the food impact; food production also has an impact on how much water is consumed, and how much land is deforested.

The energy utilized in the global food system includes the energy used in the production of food-stuffs, the manufacture of fertilizers and pesticides, irrigation and the activities of postproduction—processing, packaging and transport, storage and sales—which involves a higher consumption of fossil fuels, and consequently CO2 emissions, greenhouse emissions responsible for climate change. The food chain reveals the importance of indirect consumption of fossil fuels on food—about 6 lbs/per capita a day (Carpentero, 2005)—related to industrial agriculture,

Usually, the carbon gas from fossil fuel combustion has been the center of attention for climate change prevention strategies, and other sources are forgotten. If the food system is analyzed without fossil fuels, agricultural production causes greenhouse gas emissions, directly and indirectly in different ways: By changing land use, deforesting forest areas and transforming them into agricultural land; and by livestock methane emission.

Nearly three-quarters of deforestation and degradation can be attributed to agriculture, including crop production and cattle. The reason why deforestation is related to climate is that when trees are clear-cut they release the carbon they are storing into the atmosphere, and this contributes to global warming. So climate change mitigation strategies should be doing as much as possible to prevent deforestation caused by agriculture, as well as encouraging energy efficiency and reduced transport.

In the case of methane emissions, according to the United Nations (UN), agriculture is responsible for producing more greenhouse gas emissions annually than all worldwide transportation. In fact a World Watch report states that livestock causes 51 percent of all greenhouses gas emissions. But, how could that be? Methane, the gas emitted by cattle, has a global warming potential about 84-87 times the warming effect of CO2 in twenty years, (according to US Environmental Protection Agency’s  inventory of greenhouse gas emissions). This means that the meat and dairy industries have a huge impact on climate change, and urban diet habits trend toward a higher consumption of meat according to Food and Agriculture Organization of the UN.

On the other hand, the effects of climate change on urban food security are another challenge that can lead to a scarcity of foodstuffs. Water is essential for agricultural production, and climate change is especially altering rain patterns. This has become an urban food vulnerability based on a conventional urban food system, characterized by the spread production territory all over the world. Food has so many chains and distances to travel that makes it more difficult to control.

In climate change mitigation and resilience strategies diverse knowledge of direct and indirect urban emissions are required. But mitigation plans are likely to be centered mostly on urban CO2 emissions by transport and mobility; in the meantime urban food’s CO2 and methane could have a largest effect on climate change.

Water consumption

Urban sustainability means reducing resource consumption, including water. Urban water policies address reducing household and commercial consumption. Urban food demand on water indirectly affects urban water consumption, and it should counts toward the urban water footprint, but it is often forgotten.

The fact is that water is required to produce food. This cannot be changed. But the important aspect to be noticed is that the water requirement to produce meat is huge as compared to the requirement to produce vegetables.

According to Water Footprint Network, to produce 1 pound of vegetables, 38 gallons (322 lts/kg) of water are needed, meanwhile, to produce 1 pound of meat, the demand of water is about 1850 gallons of water (7004 lts/kg), 48 times more water to produce meat than vegetables.

Comparison of agricultural water consumption (gallons) for vegetables and meat. Numbers, from Water Footprint Network. Household water consumption, from US Geological Survey. Image: Graciela Arosemena

Land occupancy

Urban space for city development, includes not only the physical surface occupied by the city’s administrative limits; but also, all the territory employed to produce the resources the city needs. The agricultural land for human feed, and agricultural land for animal forage to produce human feed, should indirectly be considered a functional part of a city. Agricultural production to feed a city is costly in terms of ecosystem impacts, particularly in terms of deforestation.

The amount of land required for agricultural production is directly related to diet. Increasingly, animals raised for food are been feeding less on pasture and more with grains and fodder crops. Consequently a diet based on a high consumption of meat requires at least three times more agricultural land than vegetarian diet. The impact of this choice is so large that, according to Carpintero, given the actual global population and the land, energy and water demands for meat production, it is not Possible to feed humanity with a high animal protein diet.

Natural reources and ecological footprint: the land required for agriculture production in Spain 2000 (m2/kg). Fundación César Manrique, España. Numbers from Carpintero (2005). Image: Graciela Arosemena

Urban land demand related to food production, runs counter to the desire for sustainable control of urban land expansion. However, urban sustainable growth should include both limits on the extension of urban boundaries, and control overexpansion of agricultural land for urban feeding.

Urban agriculture and city sustainability

Food for cities is supplied by an urban agro-alimentary system; the improvement of this system could have a positive impact on urban sustainability. Potential improvements include employing different strategies, such as bringing agricultural production closer to urban areas, and changing urban diet to reduce meat consumption. This means decreasing the city dependence on distant agro-system territories spread all over the world that form a fuel dependent global food network. In its place, a regional food agro-system must be developed, so production, distribution and consumption are not distant from each other. In that food system, urban and peri-urban vegetable agriculture would play a fundamental part. However in order to make this shift in food production, urban planning must change its urban food system, and consequently the basic urban model. In order to achieve urban agricultural development that is neither incidental nor isolated, it should be integrated into urban and territorial planning, and to land use. Doing so would foster relationships, not only between urban agricultural production and the city, but would also foster ecological, social and economic relations.

Urban agriculture plot in Barcelona city. Photo: Graciela Arosemena

The benefits of this strategy are enormous, not only reducing greenhouses emissions by minimizing food transport, but also by reducing packaging and refrigeration. This means less urban waste and less energy consumption. Also urban and peri-urban agricultural production would take place on previously disturbed land, reducing deforestation of natural areas. , However, this benefit would be increased only if urban diet also reduces meat consumption. In that sense, the city should develop strong social campaigns to persuade citizens to reduce their meat intake, including meat taxes that are related to its environmental impact (climate change, deforestation and water consumption).

On the other hand, urban food vulnerability to the effects of climate change could be reduced with near agricultural production. Food security and adaptation to climate change have a close mutual relationship. The principle of proximity, bringing food production physically close to consumers, takes on a greater importance as a strategy of adaptation, because food availability may become an issue due to transport limitations when climate conditions are difficult. Also by bypassing the chain of fossil fuel consumption, CO2 emissions are reduced, and the price of urban green vegetables stabilizes as they are no longer dependent on a fluctuating fuel prices. Urban food production could supply vegetables that might otherwise be in short supply because of climate change driven drought conditions at remote agricultural lands. Treated urban wastewater can only irrigate agricultural land if it is close to the water source. So urban agricultural production might guarantee food in those difficult weather conditions. Reliance on urban gray water for agricultural production instead of fresh water irrigation could be considered contribution to closing the water cycle.

One important aspect to consider in terms of land use value, is that urban land must be valued not for its real-state potential, but it must be valued for its food security services. However, urban agriculture should be a worthwhile economic activity that could guarantee a long-term return.

But, is it possible for cities to achieve vegetable self-sufficiency?

With the appropriate urban land use strategies, urban green system changes, urban/peri-urban production policies, and urban and building redesign, surely it is possible. According to research on Barcelona, by employing a variety of strategies the city could achieve 70 percent vegetable production self-sufficiency (Arosemena, 2008) . In Panama City traditionally, agriculture production takes place in peri urban areas, principally rice production. Until 2013 Panama City had the potential to be 86 percent self-sufficient in rice production. It was also estimated to be 12 percent self-sufficient in corn production and 6 percent in beans.  While the example of Panama City is not planned peri-urban agriculture these numbers show how urban agricultural self-sufficiency is a possibility. And also to keep in mind that productive potential can also be reduced by urban development pressure.

Peri-urban agriculture and consumption in Panama City in 2013. The role of the agricultural system in the sustainability of cities. Presentation from IFLA AMERICAS -URBIO Conference. Panama, October 25-27, 2016. Calculated from information INEC, Panama. Image: Graciela Arosemena

Conclusions

Every city that expects to be sustainable must take into account all its environmental externalities, and mitigate them as much as possible by reducing the need to exploit other territories and ecosystems in order to achieve the resources city requires to function.

But urban feeding and its associated environmental consequences are usually forgotten when planning for sustainability. In this task, the evaluation of food system environmental impacts involved the consideration of multiple factors, including urban water consumption, land use and deforestation, and climate change. By understanding and accounting for the environmental externalities associated with remote urban food production, and encouraging more local production through changes in urban planning and policies, and encouraging a change in dietary habits to reduce meat consumption, cities can move toward authentic food sustainability. In doing so, the city gets certain degree of self-sufficiency, and in terms of urban food,  begins to develop urban/peri-urban agriculture and ultimately a new urban food system.

Until urban planners begin to internalize and address the organization of city food systems, we cannot talk about a complete urban sustainability.

Graciela Arosemena
Panama City

On The Nature of Cities


References

Arosemena, Graciela. (2008) . Ruralizar la ciudad: Metodología de introducción de la agricultura como vector de sostenibilidad en la planificación urbana. Tesis doctoral. Universidad Politécnica de Cataluña. Barcelona.

Arosemena, Graciela. (2012). Urban agricultura: Spaces of cultivation for a sustainable city. Gustavo Gili. Barcelona.

Carpintero, Oscar. (2005) El metabolismo de la economía española. Recursos naturales y huella ecológica (1955-2000). Economía Vs. Naturaleza. Fundación César Manrique. España.

U.S Geological Survey. Science for a changing world. https://www.usgs.gov

Water Footprint Network. www.waterfootprint.org

Ecologies of Elsewhere: Giving Urban Weeds a “Third Glance”

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
New modes of engaging with the urban landscape will not be based on superficial aesthetic concerns or sentimental rear-view thinking, but a celebration of the messy complexities and nuances of novel ecosystems, and the active role they will continue to play in the nature (and future) of our cities.

Volunteers. Exotics. Aliens. Weeds. Whatever happens to be your preferred nomenclature when describing the existence and behavior of spontaneous vegetation, it’s clear that many biases abound. We pluck, poison and mulch our landscapes to keep these decidedly untidy forces at bay. Yet have we also effectively mulched our mindsets?  Have we blunted our ability to see these ubiquitous features of our everyday lives as anything other than botanical garbage? Might we benefit from taking a second, or a third glance at these novel ecosystems, perhaps even include them into our expanding definitions of “urban resilience”? A growing body of discourse and practice says yes.

First glances can be deceiving

When famed Italian artist and cartographer Giovanni Battista Piranesi decided to depict the dereliction of 18th century Rome in his Vedute series, it was not by accident that he reserved amplified poetic license in expressing the ways weeds had taken over. Looking into the margins of these highly detailed etchings, one can’t help but ponder the role of common European weeds such as burdock (Arctium lappa) and common reed (Phragmites australis) emerging as central subjects, actively ravaging the skeleton of a once great city.

Giovanni Battista Piranesi’s Vedute Di Roma #9, ca. 1760. Source: http://www.let.leidenuniv.nl/

As they were in 18th century Rome, scenes like this have become commonplace at many scales within our human altered environments today, nibbling at the forgotten fringes of our yards and neighborhoods, teasing our ingrained notions of the natural. This is not Nature with a capital N, but rather “nature” in its more mischievous and subliminal form. The kind of nature that expresses itself in moments of self-willed ecological poetry: emerging from the shadows and cracks of the sidewalk, or in tangled masses along transportation corridors, or peeking defiantly through the tattered remains of post-industrial ruins.

The author at the edge of a Novel Ecosystem in contemporary Rome. Photo: Kim Karlsrud

It’s no wonder then that these messy “novel ecosystems” aren’t just seen as symptomatic of decline, but also symbolic of it, even contributive to it. But it’s precisely their special status as botanical boogie men that makes weeds so fascinating. At every turn, they seem to defy our instruments of control, and remind us of the chaos which lurks just beyond the veil of order.

Whether through the process of romantic imitation, clever marketing strategy, or scientific consensus, weeds have always signified the untamed, unwanted or feral aspects of our world—untidy nuisances to be disregarded, slowed, or even killed. One only needs to observe the campy television commercials for Roundup®, which typically feature an otherwise average domestic father figure temporarily transformed into a vigilante cowboy of the old west, battling a formidable band of vegetable outlaws. In place of a pistol is a spray wand containing Monsanto’s powerful glyphosate herbicide, armed and ready to chemically restore law and order to the untamed backyard frontier. Weeds in this context are often presented as anthropomorphized versions of themselves, an obvious attempt to exaggerate the pathology of their sinister intentions: thuggish thistles, dastardly dandelions and pick-pocket plantains.

Clips from Roundup Commercials. Via Youtube
Clips from Roundup Commercials. Via Youtube

But it’s not just suburban dads who vilify these common constituents of the urban ecosystem. Many professional ecologists and conservation biologists, with a longstanding disciplinary bias towards the study of native ecosystems and pristine wilderness conditions, have tended to study alien species exclusively through the lens of invasiveness. This lens has proven to be effective and arguably appropriate to understand the ways in which some botanical newcomers behave badly when introduced to a new territory—gobbling up resources, altering habitats, displacing native species, and generally wreaking havoc on the ecosystems they invade. The fact that the vast majority non-natives appear to integrate smoothly with their new neighbors is rarely emphasized.

In its third Global Biodiversity Outlook (CBO-3), the internationally funded Convention on Biological Diversity still lists the spread of exotic species as one of the biggest threats to planetary health and sustainability, citing a familiar shortlist of culprits which are laying waste to agriculture, spreading infectious disease, and so on (“Global Biodiversity Outlook 3” 2017). Emerging from this demoralizing narrative of loss and degradation is an elevated sense of threat with regard to all non-native species, and a range of land management practices that are based the continuing assumption that native is always good, and exotic is always bad.

This “green xenophobia” is powerful and pervasive, and impacts the ways we think and talk about urbanized landscapes too. Even the relatively nascent field of urban ecology to date has tended to direct much of it’s focus on more charismatic urban megaflora and “restorative” design solutions rather than fostering a deeper understanding of the feral and the funky. Driven by the desire to reconcile the (false) binary of “City” and “Nature”, these management and design strategies tend to disregard or supplant that which may already be thriving as an impediment to the establishment of “healthier” seeming ecosystems.

This phenomenon was recently reflected upon by Emma Marris in an apt critique she referred to as the “The Highline Problem”—in reference to New York City’s now iconic landscape darling designed by James Corner’s Field Operations. In its former condition as a spontaneous urban meadow on a defunct elevated railway in Chelsea, The Highline likely boasted a range of common weedy species such as tree-of-heaven (Ailanthus altissima), fleabane (Erigeron canadensis), and mugwort (Artemisia vulgaris)—all of which are conspicuously absent from the plant palette in its formalized condition today. While noting the project as a gorgeous piece of green infrastructure, Marris questions the costs of this new arrangement in both biological and financial terms, noting the irony that a space which started as a self-willed cosmopolitan urban meadow with an effective operating cost of zero, now boasts the highest maintenance bill of any park in the city (“The Last Word On Nothing | Urban Wilderness and the ‘High Line Problem’ ” 2017).

New York City’s Highline Park, Before and After. Source: http://www.telegraph.co.uk

Second glances as a call to arms

Because they’re less charming than their ornamental counterparts, and seemingly less trustworthy than their native counterparts, the odds are overwhelmingly stacked against the acceptance of weeds as a welcome expression of nature in our cities and in our everyday lives. Yet a growing body of contemporary creative practice and emerging research suggests that despite their unseemly appearance and dubious provenance, spontaneous urban vegetation may actually represent an unlikely expression of urban resilience, worthy of at least a second glance.

New nature writers such as the previously mentioned Emma Marris, Richard Mabey, and Fred Pierce, examine the deep and complex lives of these plants through lenses as far flung as history and folklore, to invasion biology and climate change (Pearce 2014; Marris 2010; Mabey 2010). In the space of academic ecology, researchers such as Peter Del Tredici, Ingo Kowarik, and Norbert Kuhn have dedicated their careers to understanding the dynamics of urban vegetation in all its forms. Del Tredici’s Wild Urban Plants of the Northeast: A Field Guide has been a staple reference for landscape and ecology students since it’s original publication in 2010.

A unifying theme in the work of these contemporary thinkers is the suspension of disbelief and judgment about non-native species to consider their potential merits as much as their potential risks. Their diverse modes of inquiry are not informed by typical knee-jerk presumptions of guilt, or mythologies of good vs. evil, but by observation and curiosity. Instead of judging species by their origins or aesthetics, they challenge us to consider their actual behavior and contextualize their role in the ecosystems they’ve become a part of.

Take, for example recent phytoremediation research suggesting that many ruderal species are highly effective “bioaccumulators”, capable of drawing up heavy metals like nickel and cadmium from post-industrial brownfield sites at prodigious rates (Kennen and Kirkwood, n.d.). Common plantains (Plantago major) seem particularly adept at plucking particulate pollution right from the air in the roadside environments they tend to inhabit (Weber, Kowarik, and Säumel 2014). Even dandelions (perhaps the most iconic among the uncharismatic urban microflora) have been studied as a vital early source of spring nectar to thirsty urban pollinators (“Urban Pollinators: Dandelion, Taraxacum officinale agg., 2017). In his groundbreaking book on the subject, Richard Mabey observes that weeds exhibit an uncanny ability to thrive in even the most disturbed, contaminated, and abused landscapes we create, noting that “What we ignore, more perilously, is the fact that many of them may be holding the bruised parts of the planet from falling apart” (Mabey 2010).

Many creative practitioners have also taken notice. Landscape architects such as Margie Ruddick, and David Seiter are among the forerunners of innovative new approaches to urban planting design and landscape management. Ruddick’s Wild By Design: Strategies for Creating Life-Enhancing Landscapes, and Seiter’s SUP (Spontaneous Urban Plants) have recently emerged as essential compendia for exploring the cosmopolitan wilderness conditions and potentials in cities like Philadelphia, and New York City. Itinerant Artist and writer Ellie Irons evokes weeds as both artistic muse as well as powerful political metaphor, and even paints with pigments derived from wild urban plants she’s collected. The so called No-Mow Movement in the United States and elsewhere has set its sights on understanding what happens when we intentionally forego the weed-whacker in certain areas of the city and rebrand these sites in a positive light. A growing contingent of amateur urban botanists have even emerged on Instagram (Plants of Babylon, The COMMONStudio, and LocalEcologist as just a few examples) all using 21st century tools to spot, identify and share their casual encounters with common urban weeds.

Sign marking the territory of an experimental long-term “No-Mow” site. Source: www.smartcitiesdive.com

Perhaps one of the most exciting examples of formally “collaborating with chaos” can be found in Berlin’s Natur-Park Südgelände, a public park and urban nature reserve that is decades in the making. Originally used a freight rail yard, Südgelände was subsequently abandoned in 1952 and remained virtually untouched and forgotten for nearly four decades amid the economic, political and territorial disputes between East and West Berlin. When curious citizens and urban ecologists visited this territory just after the city’s re-unification in 1989, they were amazed to encounter the active processes of ecological succession playing out right under their noses in the heart of the city. In the spaces of unused railway tracks and open fields of sterile gravel, a novel and eclectic mode of nature had taken hold: Robinia trees, and extensive meadows containing ragtag mixtures of native and exotic wildflowers, dry grasslands, and shrubs (Kowarik and Langer, n.d.). Rather than erase the novel ecosystems that had emerged there, the design team conceived a plan that embraced them. Since it’s opening in 2000, this 18 hectare (44 acre) park has served as a thriving ecological sanctuary and community amenity, home to over 350 plant species, 47 fungi, 30 species of bird, 57 species of spider, as well as numerous wild bees and insects (“Natur-Park Suedgelaende, Berlin” 2017).

The Natu-Park Suedgelaende Plan. Source: wasistlandschaft.de
Pedestrian Pathway within the Natur-Park Südgelände. Source: wikiwand.com/de

These second glances offer a way out of the limited conceptual traps of upholding “nativism at all costs”, and unlocks new narratives of vindication for plants and ecosystems that have been historically marginalized as “guilty by association.” In so doing, these important precedents are helping redefine what it means to live in a “post-wild” world, and challenging us to expand our outdated notions of what counts as nature—especially in our increasingly urbanized habitats.

Closer glances of the third kind

Novel urban ecosystems—and the exotic biota that inhabit them—are an unavoidable part of our ecological inheritance in the Anthropocene. Despite our best efforts to eradicate or control them, they are here to stay. And they will continue to move, colonize, spread and change. Alien species and “weeds” seem to occupy a distinct niche in our collective consciousness, marked by extreme prejudice, and narratives of loss. But might this be a by-product of our limited purview? Our first glances?  A range of contemporary voices (writers, artists, scientists, and designers) are moving the needle on novel urban ecosystems, challenging us to give them at least a second glance. Yet there’s still a long road ahead to foster broader acceptance, and deeper understanding of how these messy systems work, and why they matter.

Casual observations of urban botany via Instagram. Source: From Left to Right: @thecommonstudio @plantsofbabylon, @digitaljalanjalan

The cases and thinkers cited here should surely stand as a compelling challenge to designers, ecologists, and policy-makers to follow suit. Third glances, then, are those that are still yet to come. Imagine the stories that are yet to be told, the scientific insights yet to be made, the landscape conditions and experiences that have yet to be nurtured. Is it possible that there are latent virtues in these messy ecosystems that are still awaiting discovery? How might we better incorporate the feral aspects of urban nature into our worldview, our research, our creative practice? How might we continue to work toward better understanding, measuring and incorporating the benefits of novel ecosystems, while minimizing the risks?

It’s time to allow these seeds of possibility into our collective discourse about urban resilience, and give them time and space to grow, un-mulched. What’s at stake in these new mindsets is not just the fate and perception of “weeds” in our world, but the emergence of new modes of urban environmentalism. These new modes of engaging with the urban landscape will not be based on superficial aesthetic concerns or sentimental rear-view thinking, but a celebration of the messy complexities and nuances of these systems, and the active role they will continue to play in the nature (and future) of our cities.

Daniel Phillips
Bangalore

On The Nature of Cities


References

“Global Biodiversity Outlook 3.” 2017. September 3. https://www.cbd.int/gbo3/?pub=6667&section=6700.

Kennen, K., and N. Kirkwood. n.d. “Phyto: Principles and Resources for Site Remediation and Landscape Design.” https://www.google.com/books?hl=en&lr=&id=0b_lCAAAQBAJ&oi=fnd&pg=PP1&dq=Phyto+kirkwood&ots=rZzkKQtkPy&sig=u4ZYErg_QmbDistsWjr8P5AxqvM.

Kowarik, I., and A. Langer. n.d. “Natur-Park Südgelände: Linking Conservation and Recreation in an Abandoned Railyard in Berlin.” http://link.springer.com/content/pdf/10.1007/3-540-26859-6_18.pdf.

Mabey, Richard. 2010. “Weeds: In Defense of Nature’s Most Unloved Plants.” https://scholar.google.hu/scholar.ris?q=info:Zdqe_Hi2tuMJ:scholar.google.com&output=cite&scirp=0&hl=en.

Marris, E. 2010. Rambunctious Garden: Saving Nature in a Post-Wild World. https://www.google.com/books?hl=en&lr=&id=NXF4AAAAQBAJ&oi=fnd&pg=PA173&dq=rambunctious+garden&ots=SabNFPBg7U&sig=gh0nsHkvNNv910FJyUYS5zOPON0.

“Natur-Park Suedgelaende, Berlin.” 2017. September 3. https://www.gardenvisit.com/gardens/sudgelande_nature_park.

Pearce, Fred. 2014. The New Wild: Why Invasive Species Will Be Nature’s Salvation. https://scholar.google.hu/scholar.ris?q=info:dg0ljllhCV8J:scholar.google.com&output=cite&scirp=0&hl=en.

“The Last Word On Nothing | Urban Wilderness and the ‘High Line Problem.’” 2017. September 3. http://www.lastwordonnothing.com/2017/05/01/urban-wilderness-and-the-high-line-problem/.

“Urban Pollinators: Dandelion (Taraxacum Agg.) – a Valuable Food Source Not Only for Pollinators.” 2017. September 3. http://urbanpollinators.blogspot.com/2013/12/dandelion-taraxacum-agg-valuable-food.html.

Weber, Frauke, Ingo Kowarik, and Ina Säumel. 2014. “Herbaceous Plants as Filters: Immobilization of Particulates along Urban Street Corridors.” Environmental Pollution 186 (March): 234–40. http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0269749113006441.

Urban Farming for Everyone / La Agricultura Urbana para Todos

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

A review of: Agricultura Urbana – Espacios de Cultivo para una Ciudad Sostenibles / Urban Agriculture – Spaces of Cultivation for a Sustainable City by Graciela Arosemena. 2012. 128 pages.  ISBN: 9788425224232.  Buy the book.

The material presented in this book not only considers the merits of urban agriculture, it also provides insight, knowledge and techniques to make urban agriculture an activity accessible to everyone.
Urbanization has gone hand-in-hand with agriculture from the beginning. Even in medieval times, when walls and defensive structures left most of the farmland outside the city perimeter, agricultural patches were available inside the city and next to the city walls. Jane Jacobs assumes that agriculture was initially within the first human settlements that can be considered as primitive urban places, and migrated to the countryside only later. But while cities and agriculture have long been inseparable, everything changed during the twentieth century. Increased mobility and progressive globalization made pointless the previous need for geographical proximity between the farmers and the urban consumers. Farming was then more or less banned from the city under the combined forces of urban densification and planning regulation. This period could be qualified as the great rupture.

In her short book Urban Agriculture, Graciela Arosemena, gives an overview of urban agriculture’s history until the great rupture and asks a question: Now that agriculture has moved outside the city, is it time to bring it back again? Her answer is “yes”, for many reasons which she associates with the idea of making cities more sustainable. In her vision, urban agriculture can stop the vicious circle of real estate speculation, provide a healthy leisure, foster social cohesion, support a new management of organic waste to reduce city’s ecological footprint and provide food security—if not complete self-sufficiency—by allowing citizens to consume locally grown vegetables and ripe fruits.

She relies on Ebenezer Howard’s interest for self-sufficiency in his garden cities and the philosophy of ruralizing the city—which she improperly attributes to Ildefons Cerdà, when in fact it was the idea of one of his followers, (the linear city of Arturo Soria y Mata)—to legitimize her vision of urban agriculture. As everybody knows urban agriculture has become trendy in recent years. Does it still need to be legitimized? Maybe not, but this book is a lot more than a pro domo plea: this short, bilingual book (English and Spanish, on facing pages) is a kind of “Swiss army knife” about urban agriculture. Its material is not only made of considerations on the merits of urban agriculture, it also provides insight, knowledge and techniques to make urban agriculture an activity accessible to everyone. Graciela Arosemena shows how parks and public spaces, gardens, terraces, roofs, and balconies can be converted to cultivating different types of vegetables and fruits. She also shows how organic waste can practically be used to grow fresh food while reducing the ecological footprint of the city. The book is full of photos displaying the different places and techniques for the introduction of agriculture in the city.

This publication can thus be considered as a clear, well-structured and conceptually attractive handbook about how to reintroduce agriculture in the city. But there is much more to it than just that: it also gives insight into how agriculture can transform the practices of urban planning. Indeed Urban Agriculture – Spaces of Cultivation for a Sustainable City summarizes Graciela Arosemena’ doctoral thesis, in which she considers that urban agriculture should be a key element of planning within the urban system. Different examples—in Vienna, Toronto, Havana, Rosario, Barcelona and Gerona—display how gardens and farming lots may penetrate the smallest nooks and crannies of the urban fabric, materializing an emergent movement that the author coins as “global social”.

Now that the urban agriculture is getting so “à la mode”, it is time to move forward and include it officially into urban policies. From this perspective, this book provides us with very valuable seeds for reflection and action. It provides a set of criteria and strategies for intervening in the realms of urbanism and construction that can be helpful to architects, landscape designers and city planners, but also to everyone interested in urban gardening.

François Mancebo
Paris

On The Nature of Cities

Click here to buy the book at Amazon. Part of the proceeds return to TNOC.

Re-culturing an Urban Collective Ethos of Sustainability

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
Dialogue focused on more sustainable and resilient futures, though necessary, is insufficient by itself. At its core, these movements must be driven by a new collective culture, shaped by normative ideals of equity, justice and sustainability.
In August 2017, I spent three days at the very stimulating Resilience 2017 conference, listening to conversations between nearly a thousand attendees—students, scholars, practitioners, musicians and artists—interested in understanding how we can craft a more resilient and sustainable earth system, one that keeps its people and its ecology in good health. The conversations at the conference were deeply thought provoking, and covered a range of issues—from using queer ecology to facilitate the blurring of the boundaries between science and policy, to ideas of how to link art and science in innovative ways for education. These topics, seemingly very diverse, had one common thread: the idea that our cultural connect with nature stands disrupted, and needs to be re-envisioned to shape a more resilient and sustainable future.

Nowhere is this more true than in cities. Cities contain incredibly dense combinations of people from very different social contexts, amalgamated in ways that they would never be in rural areas. This can produce cultural symphony, or cacophony! The breakdown of societal restraints on gender, caste and other artificial barriers, and the resultant opportunity to converse across boundaries, can stimulate great innovation and creativity. Indeed, many cities excel at this. But the unprecedented socio-economic heterogeneities and inequalities that we find in cities have also led to petty daily conflicts and riots, scenes of banal crime and horrific brutality. The often-lamented loss of urban connect between neighbours leads to a fragmentation of urban communities. Perhaps as a consequence, many cities have witnessed the rapid disappearance of urban ecosystems—with forests, wetlands, parks and lakes giving way to high rise apartments and garbage dumps. Provoked by the obvious deterioration, many cities are forging nascent efforts to develop new urban commons. In an urban context, this requires dialogue between communities and the State, as Sheila Foster’s recent research on the “Co-City” demonstrates. Yet dialogue, though necessary, is insufficient by itself. At its core, these movements must be driven by a new collective culture, shaped by normative ideals of equity, justice and sustainability.

Vegetables wrapped in plastic in a “modern” Indian grocery store, focused on high end “healthy” organic produce. Ironic, when you think of the health impacts of the plastic wrap on the vegetables, in addition to the environmental impacts. Photo: Harini Nagendra

This is particularly challenging in cities of the Global South—in countries such as India. In Mumbai, 10,000 families migrate into the city each month. By 2025, India may have the largest number of migrants in the world, of whom most will end up in cities. Some will be affluent, tech-sector workers. Many more will live in slums, often on very little. Yet across most sectors of society, levels of consumption are on the rise in India’s cities. This is clear by a casual look at the constitution of urban garbage in most cities for instance, choked with plastic—plastic that comes from the supermarkets and stores in the city that advertise and sell packaged toys, gadgets and even vegetables wrapped quite pointlessly in plastic film.

A small shrine under the canopy of a large sacred tree in peri-urban Bangalore. Photo: Harini. Nagendra

When a culture of conspicuous consumption overtakes cities, it subverts existing cultures. Many argue that India has had a “natural” affinity towards sustainability, with diverse faiths that consider nature as sacred. In cities such as Bangalore, sacred Ficus trees survive when other species are cut down to make way for infrastructure projects, for instance. But as urban settlements grow, so does the desire to convert a humble shrine under the canopy of a tree  into something larger. Thus many trees are enclosed within walls to build a small shrine, which slowly grows to prominence to become a large temple. The original tree, its branches trimmed and its roots enclosed, becomes weak and eventually gives way to the representation of sacredness in built form.

A sacred tree, with its branches heavily pruned, has given way in significance to the representation of sacredness in built form in the shrine below. Photo: Harini Nagendra

Urban water systems have also been subjected to this alteration in the nature of the sacred. Many religious festivals in India involve water. During the famous Durga puja season in Kolkata, tens of thousands of idols of Durga are purchased by individual homes and community associations, and later immersed in the city’s lakes and the sea. These were once small in size, made of clay taken from lake beds, painted with vegetable dyes, and then later returned to the same lake via immersion. Now, community associations compete to install larger and larger idols, which despite a ban are mostly made out of plaster of Paris, painted with toxic lead and mercury-based paints. When immersed, these idols pose a significant challenge to the same lakes that the Goddess is supposed to protect. Yet again, the normative core idea, of the worship of nature, has given way to a representation in very different form.

Gauri and Ganesha, shaped by my daughter using mud from our garden – later immersed in a bucket, which we poured back into our garden, symbolising the cycle of sustainable life. Photo: Harini Nagendra

When I returned from Resilience 2017, in my home town of Bangalore, the Ganesha festival was just beginning. Worshipped as the Lord of Beginnings and the Remover of Obstacles, the Ganesha festival is an important one for many Indians. In Bangalore, as in Calcutta, the harmful environmental effects of submerging plaster of Paris Ganesha idols in the city’s already polluted lakes is well known. Yet despite a ban that has been in existence for the past 3 years, the streets continue to be lined with these idols. In recent years, there has been a growing citizen movement to encourage a return to “natural” materials—Ganesha idols made with wet clay, with grains and seeds, and other natural material. Many people that I know have now moved away from plaster of Paris idols to these natural materials, and indeed, they are becoming more visible on street fronts and in shops for sale, than in the years past. In my home, my daughter now uses the mud from our garden to make our Gauri (Ganesha’s mother) and Ganesha—we later immerse them in a bucket, and carefully pour the mud back into our garden, under the canopy of our mango tree. From earth to earth, this simple practice beautifully symbolises the cycle of life.

Large painted idols of the Indian Goddess of knowledge and music Saraswati, being prepared for sale in Kolkata’s famous Kumartuli locality. Photo: Harini Nagendra

Yet overwhelmingly, the collective collection of plaster of Paris Ganeshas far outweighs those of natural materials—by a large amount. While many individuals have moved towards more sustainable practices, often motivated by conversations with like-minded friends, we continue to speak in silos. Most community associations prefer the artificial idols, being bigger, more colourful, and more conspicuous. And it turns out to be particularly difficult to have conversations with a motley urban collective, on seemingly waffly issues such as sustainability.

What does this tell us about the attempt to re-culture the urban commons, via a new collective movement? Changing culture is not easy—changing collective culture is particularly challenging. And yet this is the task we have at hand, if we are to engage in collective urban conversations about urban resilience and sustainability. Bangalore’s lakes, in which idols of Gauri and Ganesha have been immersed for centuries, now also host immersion of Durga idols, thanks to the city’s now substantial Bengali population—and act as sites for other festivals such as Chat puja as well, in response to migrants from other parts of the country. How does the city engage in conversations with each of these collective groups about sustainability? And yet—how can it not?

Informal settlements or slums provide a fascinating context within which to study the evolving culture of sustainability, for instance. As I describe in my book Nature in the City: Bengaluru in the Past, Present and Future many slums in Bangalore, though composed largely of migrants, have a high collective ethos of urban conservation, planting and carefully nurturing a wide diversity of species in cramped spaces, despite challenges of water availability. Indeed, the greatest proportion of native species we find in Bangalore is in its’ slums. The strong social ties between neighbours, and the high dependence on nature, seem to play a role in fostering this collective sense of sustainability. This may be more complex in wealthier residential communities, where many do not know their neighbours well.

The challenge of re-culturing a collective urban ethos of sustainability is profound, but essential, for urban resilience in the Global South. There are no easy answers. But equally, there is no escaping the need to make progress on this front.

Harini Nagendra
Bangalore

On The Nature of Cities

What the Garden-Hacking Grandmas and Grandpas of South Korea Know

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
What if a garden culture could flourish anywhere, regardless of how the structure of a city was designed? And what if, by allowing such a culture to flourish, we could begin to heal some of our most pressing ecological and social issues?
More than a century ago, urbanist Ebenezer Howard invented the concept of a “garden city”—a city with a bustling urban core, fanning out into green neighborhoods, and then farther out into farmland, all of it theoretically connected in a semi-closed sustainable cycle.

This essay was originally published at Yes! Magazine — Powerful Ideas, Practical Actions
As a kid growing up in San Jose, California, I wondered why I’d never seen one of these cities, especially because the idea was so old. With its low-density swath of houses, far-flung shopping malls and tilt-up office buildings framed by varying grids of concrete and asphalt, San Jose seemed so thoroughly to reject everything that Howard’s garden cities were about.

Daejeon, South Korea, is a bustling modern metropolis, but the residents of the tightly packed Dae-dong neighborhood have used every available patch of earth to create urban gardens. Photo: Patrick M. Lydon

Two decades later, while studying at the University of Edinburgh, I realized a more depressing truth: San Jose was in fact a garden city, albeit a shallow version of what Howard had envisioned. San Jose, along with the numerous other economically productive, ecologically destructive wastes of time, space, and natural resources that we collectively call suburbia, are garden cities, built as a culture based on the dream of endless economic growth sees fit to build them. They are garden cities without garden cultures.

People who inhabit a place can have far greater potential for dictating how space is used.
But what if a garden culture could flourish anywhere, regardless of how the structure of a city was designed? And what if, by allowing such a culture to flourish, we could begin to heal some of our most pressing ecological and social issues?

During the past five years, my partner Suhee Kang and I have enjoyed the opportunity to engage somewhat deeply with these kinds of places—both in concrete-lined urban corridors and in lush fields of hillside natural farms. The experience has revealed, with impressive clarity, that the people who inhabit a place can have far greater potential for dictating how space is used than any physical design, designation, or government mandate.

Hyunsung Park, a retired policeman, is one of many people in the Dae-dong neighborhood of Daejeon, South Korea, that is carving a garden city culture out of a dense urban environment. Photo: Patrick M. Lydon

Dae-dong, an old urban neighborhood set into a hill beside the bustling city of Daejeon, South Korea, doesn’t look like an urban gardener’s heaven. Yet in this tightly packed, low-income neighborhood, almost no plot of soil—and in many cases no slab of idle asphalt—is left without some kind of tended plant, be it flowers, corn stalks, summer squash, Korean gochu red peppers, or whatever else the neighbors here favor.

The neighborhood is built to a human scale. It feels awkward to navigate Dae-dong’s broadest roads in even the smallest of cars, and most streets here are pathways, barely wide enough for two humans to pass comfortably. This smallness creates a close-knit, walkable atmosphere, but it also makes gardening very difficult, forcing utility of space in the strictest of senses.

And yet there is a proliferation of earth cultivation everywhere in the neighborhood, even in the smallest piece of soil, or in a patch of untended weeds in the park, or in an old bathtub left outside. It’s not always “pretty” in the western aesthetic sense, but what we find in Dae-dong is a thriving garden city culture, in a neighborhood with nearly zero planned space for gardens.

Love of nature

The neighborhood’s design does not have much love for urban gardens, but the residents overwhelmingly do. Love for nature is the guiding ethos in Dae-dong.

The people who garden in this particular neighborhood—I fondly refer to them as garden-hacking grandmas and grandpas—are generally from a generation who can still remember the times when they were starving. For much of the 20th century, Korea saw massive shifts in political organization, struggling through a forced occupation, multiple wars, separation, and a slow, often bloody fight for democracy that didn’t formally end until 1987. Understandably, the older generation here sees gardening as a means of survival.

One such man is Hyunsung Park, a 77-year-old retired policeman who lives in Dae-dong on a small pension. We first meet him by chance in the alley in front of his home, and immediately he begins to talk to us about his pepper plants. “They are not so big this year, but they’re plenty spicy. Here, try,” he says as he offers a bite to us. My weak American mouth burns intensely.

Inside his home over a cup of instant coffee, he talks about his struggles, of how his move into law enforcement was prompted by his father’s death, of how the neighborhood was home to refugees during the war. He smiles the entire time.

Park is animated and energetic. “I go to sleep at 9 p.m., wake up at 3 a.m., and immediately go for a long walk through the mountain and forest,” he says, pointing toward the hills on the eastern edge of the city. “After that, I come spend some spend time with my garden and with my family … my life these days is primarily about nature and family.”

South Korea has made a bold move to embody the capitalist Cinderella story, with much success.
Over the next few months of our filmmaking residency here, we make it a point to take daily walks, striking up conversations with more Dae-dong grandmas and grandpas, joining them for coffee, tea, and in one case, a bowl of boiled locally grown potatoes, presented to us with much pride. Several of them visit the house we are staying in to chat or deliver food from their gardens, and we often return the favor by bringing them back a dish cooked with their vegetables.

Through these interactions, we come to know Dae-dong as a garden city in ways perhaps unimaginable by planners such as Howard. But the stability of this kind of garden city necessarily relies on its culture, and the reality here is that in the years since this older generation of urban gardeners began their work in Dae-dong, the prevailing culture has gone in the opposite direction. Over the past half-century, South Korea has made a bold move to embody the capitalist Cinderella story, with much success. Most South Koreans under 40 are more concerned with work, study, and vying for a position at Hyundai or Samsung than they are about tending a garden or walking through the forest at 3 a.m.

But if a culture of nature-connectedness could be removed from a country in the span of a generation, so too could it be cultivated again in another.

Regaining a nature-connected culture

In nature-connectedness workshops we’ve conducted the past few years in east Asia, Europe and North America, we’ve found a pretty strong indication of this idea’s viability: As soon as we give individuals “permission” to cultivate personal relationships with nature, it comes quite easily.

In Korean wisdom traditions, or those of native peoples in nearly every other part of the earth, we find a vast history which speaks to this understanding that, yes, we had it once, but some of us lost it. Each of us has the ability to re-establish our relationship with this Earth, and a steadily growing number of individuals and organizations are working with this notion in context of our contemporary culture. From authors like E.O. Wilson, Wendell Berry, and Joanna Macy, to artists like Andy Goldsworthy, James Turrell, and Collins-Goto, to organizations such as the Biophilic Cities Network, the Intertwine Alliance, The Nature of Cities, and our own SocieCity, local, regional, and even global initiatives abound. They are not always visible, and they’re rarely featured in The New York Times or on the evening news, but we find them when we look—unreported and unadvertised yet in plain sight—in neighborhood gardens, living rooms, and tiny alleyways across this earth.

Nurturing a love for nature is an indispensable part of life.
All of this must begin within each of us. Whether we wake up each morning under eaves beneath trees, or on the top floors of towers among a forest of more towers; whether we walk our children to school through a park, or drive our car down the traffic-clogged streets to the market; whether we spend our mornings closed in meeting rooms, or tending urban gardens, each of us are the potential builders of a new culture, and each of our actions offers opportunity for transformation.

During our last week in Dae-dong, we decide to bake a cake for the couple, Yongdeok Han and Yangsoon Kim, who own a tiny corner store that we frequent. They stock the usual essentials and junk food that most convenience stores offer, but they also always have a cardboard box placed out front full of fresh vegetables from their garden, which, in Dae-dong tradition, is tucked into a thin strip of soil between a concrete wall and a house. The cake we bring them is made with pumpkins from this box.

They smile at the cake and offer us more pumpkins. Han, the husband, laughs and refuses payment. “Consider it a gift from my heart” he says, now laughing from his gut. “I don’t grow pumpkins for money, I grow pumpkins because I like growing pumpkins!”

In Dae-dong, and in many other such neighborhoods around the world, you can’t say that gardening is a hobby, or even a way to make money. It seems to have a far more fundamental purpose, one spawned by the realization within people, that there is inherent value in the action of tending a garden, and in the action of taking time every day to be with nature.

It’s a common thread among these people: Nurturing a love for nature is an indispensable part of life.

However simple that statement may be, it is also quite powerful to remember and use. Powerful enough to form a foundation where sustainable food, resilient cities, and nature can coalesce through a reconnecting of our culture to this earth with which we live—a culture that can perhaps, finally toss old Ebenezer Howard’s garden city plans into the compost bin.

Patrick M. Lydon
Seoul

On The Nature of Cities

 

The Tree for All Journey: Rethinking Urban Growth At the Landscape Scale

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
Facing the ecological dilemma created by urban growth and climate events means moving from pilot projects to landscape-scale conservation.
It’s a beautiful spring day as I sit on the bank of Fanno Creek watching a family of wood ducks motor across the glassy surface of a three-acre beaver pond. A Blue Heron stands in the backwater finding nourishment from the juvenile fish hiding among the willows while a pond turtle suns itself on a log felled by one of Mother Nature’s keystone engineers. Songbirds bring their voices as they find their breakfast within the abundant native vegetation surrounding this oasis in the middle of a thriving urban community. Behind me are hundreds of residential homes, and across the pond I see the reflection of a bustling industrial complex with warehouses and businesses. It’s not long before I hear a family of human inhabitants strolling along a footpath with children in tow. Just like the birds, I hear happy voices as they talk about the array of interesting wildlife they see along this human highway.

Great Blue Heron at Fern Hill Wetlands (2015). Photo: Michael Nipper
To catch a glimpse of the wildlife that is returning to Greenway Park at Fanno Creek, take a peek at our “critter cam” video.
This is a very special place for me. A dozen years ago, this same location was a deep ditch with little vegetation, no shade, and only a trickle of water. Back then, there were certainly no ducks to be seen or song birds to be heard. There were also no children playing in the shade or cyclists enjoying their fresh-air commute. It was a dry, barren place that was hot in the summer and a floodway in the winter. However, this story is not about one singular project. Fanno Creek is only one example of more than 400 projects completed in the Tualatin Watershed of northwestern Oregon by Tree for All.

Riparian enhancement at Englewood Park at Fanno Creek, 2008-2012

Tree for All is one of the USA’s largest and most successful landscape conservation programs. In the past 12 years, Tree for All has successfully restored over 120 river miles (10 plus river miles annually) across more than 25,000 acres in the rural and urban communities of Washington County, Oregon.

If you’re interested in learning more, check out this video about Tree for All partners and the tree planting challenge that started it all.
Creating a conservation program capable of acting on a watershed scale has been an interesting journey, and it becomes particularly inspiring when you consider the stressors of interesting weather events and rapid urbanization as well as the scale of action needed to create a resilient and healthy watershed. Looking back on this journey, we have identified 11 keys to landscape conservation that have guided Tree for All’s success, with the hope that they may help guide similar efforts. This essay will address three of the key elements for creating a landscape conservation program that is capable of acting on a scale that ensures watershed health now and for future generations: common community vision, partnerships, speaking a common language.

Common community vision: what’s good for Mother Nature is good for humans too

If others want to replicate the program, they need to understand that you have to get community buy-in to be successful. Tree For All is a collaborative effort that takes many jurisdictions. Folks from the public sectors, schools and others, they all have to buy into it.
— Andy Duyck, Washington County Commission Chair

Our natural resources provide many benefits to humans, such as clean drinking water, healthy air, and nourishing foods. In addition, we require efficient transportation networks and cultural diversity to create resilient, thriving human communities. As we play witness to hundreds of restoration projects, it becomes clear that local wildlife has many similar needs. A grey squirrel needs a network of natural vegetation to provide food and transportation, allowing it to cross the watershed without ever touching the ground. Lacking such highways, that squirrel experiences the same dilemma as humans when we see a “road closed” sign with no detour.

These wildlife highways cross urban, rural, and forested landscapes where humans also reap great benefits from natural resources. Floodplains are an example of an ecosystem that provides a water highway for migratory birds, fish and other wildlife. The restoration of these “water highways” also benefit human communities by providing flood mitigation, carbon sequestration, water filtration, and recreational areas for activities such as fishing or boating.

In agricultural areas, clean air and water, healthy soil and pollinators propagate our human foods. Native plant buffers on agricultural land are an example of a way that communities can help wildlife and humans thrive. When we plant strips of native plants along water margins, they provide shade, slow runoff, and absorb nutrients from agricultural land. Just as humans need clean water, so do the fish and wildlife that greatly benefit from the water cleansing benefits of native plant buffers. Indeed, the benefits of native vegetation buffers—cleaner air and water, shade from the urban heat island effect—also extend to the children who walk along Fanno Creek observing egrets and Pacific tree frogs.

Time and time again we have found that if we help to restore native vegetation, Mother Nature is capable of doing the rest. When Mother Nature is given the opportunity to succeed, wildlife and human communities thrive together.

All smiles at a Watershed Health Walk at Fernhill Wetlands (2017). Photo: Sheepscot Creative

Partnerships: Working together, we each gain strength while enhancing community benefits

Tree for All is possible because of the partnerships that were established over the last ten years. That’s how you get a million plants into the ground. It took people reaching out and asking others to help—and by doing that, we now have this whole social system that revolves around getting this kind of work done.
— Carla Staedter, Environmental Coordinator, City of Tigard

A beaver pond creates an interesting partnership between the wildlife and native vegetation of Fanno Creek. Waterfowl find a welcoming home to raise their families when water is available and native vegetation helps create the habitat needed for turtles, songbirds and fish. Each of these creatures rely on each other to provide food, habitat and water, which puts in motion the makings of a healthy and vibrant watershed. However, this setting meets an interesting challenge when we consider the role humans can play in this story. This role can either be a controlling dictatorship, or, preferably, that of another watershed partner that finds nourishment in their association with local wildlife.

Like many words in the English language, the term “partnership” has many definitions. Tree For All has created its own definition that can best be told by a story about a stranded traveler with a flat tire on a hot dusty road in central Oregon.

A stranded traveler stands beside his car with tire iron in hand, a sweaty brow, and the dejected look of person missing a jack to change his flat tire. It’s not long, however, before a fellow traveler sees this situation and stops to help. With pen and paper in hand, he jumps out of his car to lend this troubled traveler a helping hand. He asks about the make, model, and gross weight of his car and quickly jots the information down. Turning to the troubled traveler, he quickly assures him that he will order a jack in the next town and have it sent back to him. Smiling, this Good Samaritan jumps back in his car and speeds away. He is happy knowing he helped a struggling traveler.

It’s not long before another helper stops to lend aid to the flat-stricken traveler by handing him a bottle of cold water. He smiles as he drives away, watching in his rearview mirror as the struggling traveler thirstily downs the bottle of water. He feels good that he was able to help.

The next traveler is a different character. He is the owner of the local drive-in a few miles back, and every weekend he makes a strawberry milkshake and takes a leisurely drive in the country with the top down on his convertible. Seeing the same situation as the previous travelers, he also stops to lend aid. He hands the weary traveler his milkshake and tells him to drink and sit in the shade while he gathers the jack from his convertible and changes the tire.

When I think about creating great partnerships, they begin with a kind gesture and an offer to meet and exceed expectations. In this story, both travelers reaped value from this interaction. After the incident, the flat-stricken traveler made it a point to bring his family to the drive-in and tell his friends about the thoughtful drive-in owner. Both parties saw great value in this relationship knowing each benefited from this opportunity. It can be easy to stumble at times when we forget to meet partners where they stand.

Through such partnerships, the people of Tualatin Watershed are transforming the landscape, averaging more than 10 river miles of restoration annually (195 km in the past 12 years) across more than 25,000 acres. Here are some examples of Tree for All partnerships and how they are working together to further their individual goals while enhancing the benefits that natural resources provide to the community:

MetroMetro is a regional government and planning agency in the Portland metropolitan area. Metro’s mission to connect high quality stream corridor and wetland habitats across the Tualatin River Watershed has resulted in the protection of almost 5,000 acres of natural areas. Its collaboration with Clean Water Services and other partners on more than a dozen natural areas including Wapato View, Maroon Ponds, and Gales Creek Forest Grove Natural Areas has been instrumental in achieving Tree for All goals. These projects leverage multiple funding sources and create a bigger impact than each organization could complete on its own. By allowing access and combined planning efforts, Metro helps Tree for All achieve a core goal of improving water quality, while enabling Metro to complete enhancement across entire properties where other priorities would have meant leaving them incomplete.

Friends of Trees: Friends of Trees is a nonprofit dedicated to empowering communities to improve the natural world by planting trees. By gathering an army of volunteers every weekend during planting season, Friends of Trees plays a pivotal role in the success of Tree for All. In 2015 alone, Friends of Trees mustered more than 17,000 volunteer hours with a value of $375,000. A decade of partnership translates into millions of dollars leveraged, and thousands of urban Washington County residents connected to water resources.

Tualatin Hills Parks and Recreation District: Tualatin Hills Park and Recreation District (THPRD) is a pivotal partner with more than 1,300 acres of natural areas in Beaverton and adjacent areas. One example is a 35-acre complex on Bronson Creek, owned by THPRD since the early 1990s. The complex improves habitat diversity and water quality in the area while complementing and connecting with nearby restoration projects. By forging this partnership and harnessing multiple interests, the benefits are tangible and growing, all at lower cost than if we each did it alone. Through this partnership, THPRD is making a big contribution to sustaining and enhancing the Tualatin Watershed where residents may live and work in harmony with the environment.

Tualatin Soil and Water Conservation District: Twelve years ago, we saw the first farmer sign up for a new riparian restoration program developed jointly by the local farming community, foresters, environmental groups, and Clean Water Services. By year three, this program caught its stride, leveraging millions of additional Federal

To learn more about our partnership with farmers in the Tualatin River Watershed, check out this video about our agriculture partners.
Money from the U.S. Congress’ “Farm Bill” dollars allows the Tualatin Soil and Water Conservation District to offer a voluntary and truly integrated agricultural incentive program. Today, this transformative partnership simultaneously delivers irrigation efficiency, wetlands enhancement, integrated pest management, cooling shade, wildlife habitat and farm conservation plans that address nutrient/pest management and soil erosion. This partnership has restored more than 35 agricultural river miles to date, involving more than 10,000 acres on 80+ farms, while bringing many additional benefits to the farmers and Mother Nature.

Speaking a common language: using a voice that engages and inspires

What’s happening in Washington County is not an accident. We’ve got an incredible effort of all different organizations working together towards one thing, and that is to work with Mother Nature. But we’re all doing that with the understanding that those benefits to each and everyone of us are far, far greater—and it’s not just to us. It’s to the future generations.
– Carolyn McCormick, President and CEO, Washington County Visitors Association

The slap of a beaver’s tail on the surface of the pond sends ducks scurrying, the turtle diving and the songbirds chirping. A red tailed hawk decides to stop and say hello. Isn’t it fascinating how that one voice/tail engaged and inspired such a diverse audience?

How many times do we humans shoot ourselves in the foot when we forget to communicate with a voice that engages and inspires? When I think about my conversations with school children, farmers, and government representatives, it can be challenge to communicate the importance of watershed health using a single message that resonates with all of these groups. It requires accounting for their concerns, speaking to the common values we all share, and conveying the benefits we all experience when we invest in our natural resources. The truth is, we all need clean air, water and healthy soil to be resilient and happy. There are many ways of telling the story about the interconnection between humans and our environment. Tree for All has found great success in telling that story through the many different voices of our partners while speaking a common language through engaging stories and inspiring conversations. This voice becomes very important as partners from diverse backgrounds come to the table to share resources and their experiences across broad landscapes.

Click these links to hear stories from Tree for All’s community, ecology, and economic partners.
Kayakers enjoying a paddle on the Tualatin River (2017). Photo: Sheepscot Creative

As we witness the many stressors associated with interesting weather events and the human desire to grow and prosper, Tree for All partners have clearly demonstrated that it is possible work locally and create the actions needed for watershed resiliency. The next essay in this series will elaborate on how Tree for All catalyzes this community impact through business innovation and co-investment, targeting efforts that provide the best return on investment, and planning for the interests of future generations.

Bruce Roll
Portland

On The Nature of Cities

 

The Deal of the Century

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
Investing in the world’s people, regardless of the color of their skin or the accident of where they were born, means that everyone—poor and rich, American or otherwise—can have markedly better lives in the future.
Donald J. Trump’s administration has been very obliging in providing content for environmentalist outrage, never in short supply. In a bit more than six months, Mr. Trump put an anti-EPA litigator in charge of the United States Environmental Projection Agency, sanctioned hunting of bears and wolves in Alaskan wildlife refuges, approved the Keystone XL and Dakota Access oil and gas pipelines, and to top it all off, pulled the U.S. out of the Paris Climate Accords.

President Donald J. Trump’s policies, and the nationalist policies of others in Europe and elsewhere, could double the human population by century’s end. Photo: Gage Skidmore

But environmentalists, and indeed the President, are missing the biggest, most serious, and longest lasting, unintended consequence of the Trumpian agenda:  he and his nationalist, anti-immigrant allies in Europe and elsewhere are putting the world on track to nearly double the human population by 2100.

Demographers have an open secret. The global population growth rate is slowing; in fact, it has been dropping since the 1960s. Most of the advanced economies of the world (Europe, the United States, Canada, Japan, Australia and New Zealand) have population growth rates that would be flat, in decline, or almost so, were it not for immigration.

The world’s most populous nations, China and India, are well on the way through the so-called “third phase of the demographic transition”, where fertility rates fall to balance mortality rates already brought low by modern medicine. As populations urbanize and gain access to the global economy, busy young adults have fewer incentives to raise large families. Women with more income tend to have more rights and more control of their lives and bodies. Family planning and education are easier to access in urban areas than rural ones. Urbanization is the prime mover of these changes, simultaneously increasing incomes and decreasing the marginal cost of providing public services.

Sub-Saharan Africa is the only region of the world today where mothers on average have more than four kids over a lifetime, rather than the 1.9 kids for an American mom or 1.5 for a European one. Even in Africa, total fertility rates have dropped 25 percent since 1960. Yet many African cities continue to under-deliver the economic and demographic benefits other regions have seen, hampered as those cities are by corruption and poor governance.

The world population continues to grow because legions of youngsters are just now entering their child-bearing years, but demographers no longer debate if the global population will stabilize. The questions now are: When will it peak? And at what height?

To suggest such answers, an interdisciplinary group of scientists has been working to explore, in the deathless prose of the science, “shared socioeconomic pathways” (or SSPs) to test how policies regarding healthcare, education, trade, immigration and urban development might affect long-term demographic outcomes. They developed scenarios of national and international policies that might plausibly take root in the twenty-first century (references are included below). No one knows what the future will hold and so these different alternatives are not predictions so much as thought experiments with data. Nevertheless the results are startling. They work out five paths, but I think here we should focus on the two most extreme.

The shared socioeconomic pathways (SSPs) indicate how policies toward urbanization, immigration and education could lead to dramatically different total world populations by century’s end. SSP 1 is pro-urbanization, immigration and education; SSP 3 is the opposite. Data from IIASA’s SSP Database, v 1.1 https://tntcat.iiasa.ac.at/SspDb/dsd?Action=htmlpage&page=about. Image: Eric Sanderson

SSP1 (“The Green Road”) is the most optimistic. It models a world that invests in its people through cities, healthcare, and education, while adopting generous trade and immigration policies. The developed world helps the developing world. Urbanization leads to smaller families and better investments in every child. This pathway leads to a peak population of 8.5 billion around 2050, followed by a slow and natural decrease, such that by century’s end, the world population is a bit less than today.

SSP3 (“The Rocky Road”) tests out Trump world. As Brian O’Neill and colleagues wrote in Global Environmental Change:

A resurgent nationalism, concerns about competitiveness and security, and regional conflicts push countries to increasingly focus on domestic or, at most, regional issues. This trend is reinforced by the limited number of comparatively weak global institutions, with uneven coordination and cooperation for addressing environmental and other global concerns. Policies shift over time to become increasingly oriented toward national and regional security issues, including barriers to trade…

The upshot of SSP3 is a world of 12 billion people by 2100 with the peak still to come in the 22nd century.

Why does nationalism lead to a more crowded world?  First nationalists want to shut down immigration. Migrants who come from faster growing regions to slower growing ones tend to take on the demographic characteristics of their new society. That is, immigrants coming to Europe or North America tend to have fewer kids than they otherwise would have in their countries or origin; and their kids have demographics indistinguishable from or lower than the rest of the population. So it was in the first wave of immigrants to the US in the nineteenth century, and so it has been in the second wave of immigration during the 1980s – 2010s. Second, trade and investment from developed to developing countries increases economic opportunity and rewards for education, as societies urbanize, industrialize, and globalize. China and India are the leading examples at the moment and Africa is slowly if unevenly on the same trajectory. Higher incomes and more education in these countries is hastening the demographic transition (think Rwanda); decreasing these public goods leads to bigger families and more people (think Niger).

One needn’t be an environmentalist to be concerned about these different future paths. A world of twelve billion is a script for a horror show—global shortages, mass starvation, increased conflict, greater radicalization, and, by the way, destruction of the biosphere. Cities expand viciously to swallow the nature nearby, and people starve for lack of water and bread. Climate change only makes it worse, exacerbating the already explosive differences between the haves and the have-nots.

In contrast, a world that peaks at 8.5 billion isn’t easy, but it means adding only about a billion more souls to the 7.4 billion we have today, while creating a world that is dramatically less poor, productively employed, and safely housed in pleasing towns and cities. Cities are catalysts of economic activity and socio-cultural transformation. Urbanization is driving out extreme poverty on a global scale, as recent studies by the World Bank have shown. In the more distant future, the only way one can imagine finding some kind of harmony between its people and the rest of nature is for the human population to stabilize.

Imagine a world with 7.4 billion people, 80% of whom live in towns and cities, and none of whom are extremely poor. In such a world, nature might recover and expand, helping suck carbon out of the atmosphere, much as forests today are expanding across the northeastern US or Eastern Europe, but on a global scale. In a world where urban places are where most people choose to live, towns and cities interlaced with green spaces and filled with wildlife have a chance to demonstrate the interdependence of human life and natural cycles that underlies pro-environmental practices and policies. Here is a road, if not to paradise, to something closer to it than humanity has seen in a very long time.

The US President prides himself on a being a deal maker. Well, here is the deal of the century. Someone with the presidential prowess to pull this one off would make Misters Washington and Lincoln (or Churchill or Gandhi, take your pick) look like provincial amateurs in comparison.

Investing in the world’s people, regardless of the color of their skin or the accident of where they were born, means that everyone—poor and rich, American or otherwise—can have markedly better lives in the future. And not just us. Tigers, elephants, rainforests, coral reefs, a life-sustaining climate, and the nature of cities, all depend on the deal ahead.

Eric Sanderson
New York

On the Nature of Cities

Eric W. Sanderson is a senior conservation ecologist at the Wildlife Conservation Society and adjunct faculty at New York and Columbia Universities. Opinions expressed are solely his own and do not express the views or opinions of his employers.


Note:  To read more about the socioeconomic pathways, check out:

Jiang, L., O’Neill, B.C., 2015. Global urbanization projections for the Shared Socioeconomic Pathways. Global Environmental Change 42, 193–199. doi:10.1016/j.gloenvcha.2015.03.008

KC, S., Lutz, W., 2017. The human core of the shared socioeconomic pathways: Population scenarios by age, sex and level of education for all countries to 2100. Global Environmental Change 42, 181–192. doi:10.1016/j.gloenvcha.2014.06.004

O’Neill, B.C., Kriegler, E., Ebi, K.L., Kemp-Benedict, E., Riahi, K., Rothman, D.S., van Ruijven, B.J., van Vuuren, D.P., Birkmann, J., Kok, K., Levy, M., Solecki, W., 2015. The roads ahead: Narratives for shared socioeconomic pathways describing world futures in the 21st century. Global Environmental Change 42, 169–180. doi:10.1016/j.gloenvcha.2015.01.004

 

Green as a Color, a Philosophy, and a Marketing Strategy

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

A review of: Paradoxes of Green, by Gareth Doherty. 2016. 216 pages. ISBN: 9780520285026. University of California Press. Buy the book.

The new green of Bahrain is unsustainable. It is a marketing strategy, not a pathway toward a viable future.
Greening cities has become an internationalized norm in urban sustainability initiatives. Increasing open spaces and urban vegetation are widely seen as positive improvements for the quality of life of city residents, and contributing to the improvement of urban environmental performance. Doherty’s explorations of the application of greening ideas and practices to Bahrain, an island ten miles wide and thirty miles long, a nation as well as a city-state, demonstrates the complexity of this accepted notion in a desert environment that, traditionally, had extraordinarily abundant groundwater and artesian wells. These occurred both on land and offshore. As he explains, water was so plentiful in Bahrain that there is a story that Abu Dhabi used to import freshwater by boat from Bahrain. This was before oil was “discovered” and the oil industry developed.

Doherty is a landscape architect who spent a year in Bahrain exploring the concept of green in this small city state. His complex and subtle book is divided into 8 chapters, the last of which is “The Whiteness of Green”. He describes his year of fieldwork walking and investigating the color green in Bahrain, first by trying to abstract the color from the object, but then understanding the daily importance of green; green is inherently related to the objects it colors and becomes part of the pragmatic meaning and value of these objects. He uses color in this book as more than an adjective, more than a color. Green is relational. And so the book is inherently concerned with the spatiality and geographies of color in the built—and grown—urban environment, and its complex meanings and associations. The book is composed of vignettes that are loosely connected and immensely rich in detail and thoughtful reflection. The chapters depict the complex relationships between the color green and the social and physical infrastructures that sustain green in Bahrain’s arid built environment. He discusses the changes overtime, placing them in Bahrain’s historical evolution. Contemporary green lives in dialectical tension with other culturally and environmentally significant colors and hues: blue, red, date palm green, beige, bright green and white, and their relationships to each other. In a time of overwhelming interest in green, Doherty’s exploration of colors and their cultural, political and other meanings, as well as sheer composition and interactions, is enlightening and a welcome addition to our understandings of the contingency of meaning in color.

Chapter two outlines the water infrastructure of the country—the blue—and the politics of treated sewage effluent. Chapter 3 addresses the politics of the colors green and red in Bahrain among the Shi’a and Sunni populations, and sets up a dialogue between the two colors. Chapter 4 focuses on the memory, history, color and urbanism of the green of the Bahraini date palm and the erosion of the political power of green by property development. Chapter 5 explores urban planning for the capital city Manama and attempts to preserve a green belt of date palm greenery, also succumbing to land development, but replaced by brilliant green imported plants like lawns, roses and petunias. In chapter 6, Doherty muses about the promise of green through beige, and how to valorize better the traditional green by preserving desert beige, brown and silver native landscapes. Rain in Bahrain creates a spectacular explosion of a specific green, short, exciting, and called “jangily” it is so intense. Chapter 7 delves into the new green and its desirability and cost as well. Finally chapter 8 addresses the color white and its relationship to green. White is the summation of all colors. Doherty is calling for attention to the value of color, of green and its many shades and hues. He advocates for a greater social component to design and awareness of color in the urban fabric. And, of course, the implications of the wrong green in the wrong place.

Doherty discusses how the concept of green in this small city state, evolved after the discovery of oil and the growing influence of the British. His fine discussion of the color green itself is extremely enlightening in the age of so many types of green in public and academic discourse. He shows how it carries a plethora of implicit human values as well as political meanings in this part of the world, and these drive the use of green as an ideological construct and political tool. For example, green is a color clearly associated with the Shi’a branch of Islam, though it is also the color of Islam as can be seen in the prevalence of green in the national flags of Arab states. However, Doherty explains, Bahrainis, treading fine political lines, are careful not to mention religious or political associations out of context. They did, though, invariably associate green with the imperiled date palm groves, a stronger connection among Shi’a than for the Sunni as the country was once predominantly Shi’a and agricultural. Through the discussion of green, Doherty explores the complex relationships among Shi’a and Sunni, the influences of Saudi Arabia and Iran in the country, and how green is used politically.

At the same time, Doherty is exploring the shifting notion of green in Bahrain’s landscapes, and consequences in the changes in types of plants, and open spaces. In his year in Bahrain, he did not have a car, and when it was not too hot, mainly walked as his main form of transportation. This enabled him an intimate relationship with the largely urbanized region, but also with people met informally. He discusses how with oil and modernization, including British city planners commissioned to plan parks, European standards for open space and plantings began to supplant local traditions. For example, parks with lawns for the elite, replacing date palm orchards as informal parks, for all classes. European-style park building is associated with class division—immigrant communities are largely kept out of the new open spaces as they are inaccessible by public transportation. The European style gardens come with new types of development as well: gated subdivisions and villas. These are highly prized by ex-pats, wealthy Bahrainis and others from the Gulf states. In addition to increased demand for fresh water due to oil extraction, population growth and urbanization, such landscapes are very water intensive, as well as dependent on fertilizers, pesticides and herbicides to survive.

Doherty explains how desert, for many Bahrainis, is seen as dirty and backward. Luscious green lawns of villas and the roundabouts in the city, are the shade of green that people want, not the gray green of the date palm, or scrubby native vegetation. Green is a symbol of development, but it is the bright green of imported vegetation. And it comes as a privileged space with gates.

In the early 1970s, Manama, the capital, adopted a thirty-year master plan that was designed to allow for the expansion of the city and accommodate the masses of foreign workers who were expected to come to Bahrain. A.M. Munro, a Scottish-born planner spear-headed the plan, sent over by the British Ministry for Overseas Development as a planning advisor for two years, shortly before independence. Munro proposed a greenbelt to the west of Manama in his master plan. When asked to make a similar plan for Greater Manama, west of the city, he allegedly refused to prepare a plan for housing and urbanization in the predominantly gray-green region covered with date palm groves. He advocated for their conservation and not development. Doherty points out Munro’s plan followed norms of the time and precedents in London and elsewhere in the Gulf for the establishment of greenbelts. These ideas came down from Sir Patrick Abercrombie the eminent town planner who was instrumental in the establishment of the Greater London Green Belt with his Greater London Plan of 1944. That area is still not developed, though there is a highway that runs right through the greenbelt that is now lined with development of both sides; it is being further encroached upon with a new proposal to preserve only 49% of the land—a vestigial remnant of the gray-green date palm open space of the past.

Keeping the remaining date palms is increasingly unlikely. As in many places in the world, farmers wish to be able to achieve their land’s full potential for development, and thus there is little incentive to maintain the date palm groves, a link to the country’s past and history. Doherty explains those pro-development dynamics, but also expresses the contradiction in Bahraini sentiments about this transformation.

Bahrain’s gray-green areas are extremely complex spaces harboring intricately balanced ecologies, history and social life—and once destroyed, they cannot be easily recreated. It is the complexity of these spaces that makes them so special. A text from 1905 describes a Bahrain that many residents still remember, or can at least still imagine: ‘The island is a pleasant oasis. . . The golden-dusted roads which cross it are broad and shaded on either side by long forests of date palms, deepening into an impenetrable greenness, cool with the sound of wind among the great leaves and the tinkle of flowing water. (p. 97)

The desire for modernization and the amenities perceived to accompany a more European style land development and landscaping are transforming Bahrain. But this not without nostalgia for the past and some hesitation.

As Doherty explains, the transformation of the landscapes is only one aspect of profound environmental transformation in this small state. Groundwater has nearly been depleted and the country relies on desalinization plants for fresh water and irrigation. Sand storms have increased in prevalence and intensity, rain seems to be less frequent than it used to be, and the country grapples with increased pollution from chemicals used in agriculture and landscaping. Landscape greening in Bahrain clearly does not provide the kinds of benefits sustainability literature as a whole alleges. Greening as a strategy needs a great deal more situated scrutiny. It is largely an Anglo-American-European dominated approach that implicitly assumes water is available and that, culturally, people need and like “green”. There is insufficient examination of whether such affinity is ubiquitous, and how modernization and ideas of what landscapes should look like come with cultural and ecosystem ethnocentrism. One gets the sense from Doherty’s book, that Bahrainis associate lush green landscapes with being modern. In Bahrain, lush green landscapes have significant environmental impacts, and undermine the possibility of developing an autochthonous, place based urbanism that is more culturally and environmentally grounded in place. It was a British Protectorate from 1820 – 1970. The discovery of oil (largely by virtue of British explorers) expanded British influence in Bahrain. While the UK protectorate may have buffered the small island from incursions by neighboring tribes and countries, it also meant a very strong colonial influence, including the imprisonment of leftist nationalists in the mid-1950s who were calling for the end of British interference and political reforms. Such unrest continued through the 1960s.

While Doherty only gently implies that British and European colonial values undermine Bahraini traditions that are more compatible with the ecology of the island, it is clear that the new green of Bahrain is unsustainable. It is visually compelling and may appeal as environmental, but such greening in Bahrain is a marketing strategy, not a pathway toward a viable future. The use of color in this book to build an ethnographic window into the country is enormously compelling, thought provoking and enlightening. A fascinating read and a call for much greater care in assuming greater greening translates to greater urban sustainability.

Stephanie Pincetl
Los Angeles

On The Nature of Cities

Click here to buy the book at Amazon. Part of the proceeds return to TNOC.

Ostrom in the City: Design Principles for the Urban Commons

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
Where we are able to identify a network of urban commons, or some degree of polycentricism in the governance of urban resources, we begin to see the transformation of the city into a commons—a collaborative space—supported and enabled by the state.
Elinor Ostrom’s groundbreaking research established that it is possible to collaboratively manage common pool resources, or commons, for economic and environmental sustainability. She identified the conditions or principles which increase the likelihood of long-term, collective governance of shared resources. Although these principles have been widely studied and applied to a range of common pool resources, including natural and digital commons, there has not been a serious effort to apply them to the urban commons. Can the Ostrom design principles be applied to cities to rethink the governance of cities and the management of their resources? We think they cannot be simply adapted to the city context without significant modification.

Cities and many kinds of urban commons are different from natural resources and more traditional commons in important ways. For this reason, we have surveyed 100+ cities around the world and many examples of urban commons within them. From this study, we have extracted a set of design principles for governing urban commons and cities as commons. And we are creating a website as a resource and open platform to which additional data, or case studies, can be added as we become aware of them.

The results of our research will soon be available on a digital platform. Our intention is that www.commoning.city will become an international mapping platform and open collaborative dataset for the urban commons and for cities that want to embrace a transition towards the commons paradigm. The goal of this research project is to enhance our collective knowledge about the various ways to govern urban commons, and the city itself as a commons, in different geographic, social and economic contexts. The case studies, both community-led and those that are institutionalized or “nested” in the local government, are important data points and empirical input into the larger effort to explicate the dynamic process (or transition) from a city where urban commons institutions are present to one where we see the emergence of networked urban commons.

Ostrom’s design principles need to be adapted for the urban context

In our work we have asked whether the commons can be a framework for addressing a host of internal and external challenges facing cities. More specifically, can designing the city as a commons help us address issues such as urban poverty, gentrification, climate change, migration, among others? Can the Ostrom design principles help cities to transition to more fair, inclusive, sustainable, resilient futures given existing patterns of urbanization and the contested nature of urban resources such as public spaces, open or vacant land, abandoned and underutilized structures, and aging infrastructure? In our study, we will see examples of how these resources can be governed as a commons in cities around the world. Moreover, we extract from these examples a set of design principles that are distinctively different from those offered by Elinor Ostrom.

 Ostrom’s study focused mainly on close knit communities in which it was clear who was from the place and who was not (principle 1). For these communities, social control/monitoring and social sanctioning were two central pillars of Ostrom’s design principles for the governance structure that communities would put in place to manage a common pool resource (principles 5 and 6). For this reason, she thought rules of cooperation among users should be written or modified by those who would be entrusted with both the duty to obey to them and the responsibility to enforce them (principle 3).

The fact that these rules would be written by the same community of users that would apply them led to the need to leave some room for adaptation of such rules to local needs and conditions (principle 2). Of course, these structures and rules would be based on the idea that these communities right to self-govern the resource would be recognized by outside authorities (principle 4).

Ostrom realized, however, that for more complex resources this governance responsibility or power should be shared with other actors to form nested enterprises (principle 8). Notwithstanding the above, she anticipated that conflicts might arise because even the most united communities would have internal fractions and therefore require accessible, low cost tools to solve their own disputes (principle 7). These are the basic design principles which for years have been driving the study and observation of common, shared resources—namely scarce, congestible, renewable natural resources such as rivers, lakes, fisheries, and forests.

To say that the city is a commons is to suggest that the city is a shared resource—open to and shared with many types of people. In this sense, the city shares some of the classic problems of a common pool resource—the difficulty of excluding people and the need to design effective rules, norms and institutions for resource stewardship and governance. It is tempting, therefore, to impose Ostrom’s design principles onto the city and to apply them to the management of many kinds of public and shared resources in the city. For many reasons, however, Ostrom’s ideas cannot be used in the city the way they were in the nature. Ostrom’s framework needs to be adapted to the reality of urban environments, which are already congested, heavily regulated and socially and economically complex. Without such adaptation, Ostrom’s design principles will be lost in translation.

This is why, starting ten years ago, we both began to explore the governance of the urban commons as a separate body of study (first investigating individually how different kinds of urban assets, urban public space such as community gardens and urban infrastructure such as urban roads, could be reconceived as urban commons, and later jointly to conceive the whole city as a commons). We realized that we needed a different approach to bridge urban studies and commons studies and therefore to pose a slightly different set of questions for governance of the urban commons. We also needed to define a different set of design principles for the commons in the city and the city itself as a commons.

Designing and constructing commons in the city

Cities and many kinds of urban commons are different from natural resources and more traditional commons in important ways. First, cities are typically not exhaustible nor nonrenewable, although they can become quite fragile over time due to internal and external threats. Much of the city consists of urban infrastructure—open squares, parks, abandoned buildings, vacant lots, roads—which can be purposed and repurposed for different uses and users. These resources share very little with the forests, underwater basins and irrigation systems that were the subject of Elinor Ostrom’s study of common pool resources.

Second, cities are what we might call “constructed” commons, the result of emergent social processes and institutional design.  The process of constructing a commons—what some refer to as “commoning”—involves a collaborative process of bringing together a wide spectrum of actors that work together to co-design and co-produce shared, common goods and services at different scales. They can be created at the scale of the city, the district, the neighborhood, or the block level.

Third, cities do not exist in a pre-political space. Rather, cities are heavily regulated environments and thus any attempt to bring the commons to the city must confront the law and politics of the city. Creating urban common resources most often requires changing or tweaking (or even hacking, in a sense) the regulation of public and private property and working through the administrative branches of local government to enable and/or protect collaborative forms of resource management. Legal and property experimentation is thus a core feature of constructing different kinds of urban commons.

Fourth, cities are incredibly complex and socially diverse systems which bring together not only many different types of resources but also many types of people. Because of this diversity and the presence of often thick local (and sublocal) politics, social and economic tensions and conflicts occur at a much higher rate and pace than many natural environments. The economic and political complexity of cities also means that governance of urban commons cannot be just about communities governing themselves. Rather, collective governance of urban commons almost always involves some forms of nested governance, and in most cases cooperation with other urban actors.

New design principles for the urban commons

Based on these differences, we began to think anew about design principles for the urban commons, taking into account what Ostrom learned about successful governance of natural resources commons.  While many of her principles have clear applicability to constructed urban commons—such as recognition by higher authorities (principle 7), the importance of nestedness for complex resources (principles 8), the existence of collective governance arrangements (principle 3), and resource adaptation to local conditions (principle 2)—others are of limited utility or need to be adapted to the urban context.

For instance, communities should drive, manage, and own the process of governing shared urban resources, but we have seen time and time again that they can rarely avoid dealing with the state and the market. While this can be true of natural commons, and rural communities, we think both the state and the market are even more omnipresent in cities, making it difficult to side step them over the long run. As such, we observe that many types of urban commons tend to benefit from cooperation with other than internal community members and resource users. Rather, they need to collaborate and pool resources with other commons-minded actors like knowledge institutions and civil society organizations.

We have observed that in contexts where the State is the strongest, and markets are not as strong, local and provincial government actors can lend assistance to, and form a solid alliance with, communities to advance collective governance of urban resources. In this sense, the State generally acts as an enabler of cooperation and pooling of resources and other actors.

On the other hand, where the State is weak or weaker, either because of corruption or lack of resources, strange enough the market seems to be the only answer to enable the pooling of resources (i.e. human, economic, cognitive, etc.) needed for collective action and collaborative management or urban resources. The market could subsidize the commons if proper legal structures and participatory processes are put in place and there is sufficient social and political capital among resource users to negotiate with market actors.

In both cases, the concept of “pooling” seems to capture the true essence of commons-based projects and policies in the urban environment. For these reasons, we have identified in our work two core principles underlying many kinds of urban commons as an enabling state and pooling economies.

We also observed for instance that technology in cities plays a key role in enabling collaboration and sustainability, as well as pooling users of urban assets, shared infrastructure, and open data management. Further, urban commons-based governance solutions are cutting-edge prototypes and therefore need careful research and implementation. In other words, they are experimental; new approaches and new methodologies are constantly being developed and require prototyping, monitoring and evaluation.

These basic empirical observations are now the cornerstone of a much larger and scientifically driven research project that we established and call the “Co-Cities Project”. The Co-Cities Project is the result of a 5-year effort to investigate and experiment with new forms of collaborative city-making that is pushing urban areas towards new frontiers of participatory urban governance, inclusive economic growth and social innovation. The project is rooted in the conceptual pillars of the urban commons.

The idea of the “Co-City” is based on five basic design principles, or dimensions, extracted from our practice in the field and the cases that we identified as sharing similar approaches, values and methodologies. While some of these design principles resonate with Ostrom’s principles, they are each adapted to the context of the urban commons and the realities of constructing common resources in the city.  We have distilled five key design principles for the urban commons:

  • Principle 1: Collective governance refers to the presence of a multi-stakeholder governance scheme whereby the community emerges as an actor and partners up with at least three different urban actors
  • Principle 2: Enabling State expresses the role of the State in facilitating the creation of urban commons and supporting collective action arrangements for the management and sustainability of the urban commons.
  • Principle 3: Social and Economic Pooling refers to the presence of different forms of resource pooling and cooperation between five possible actors in the urban environment
  • Principle 4: Experimentalism is the presence of an adaptive and iterative approach to designing the legal processes and institutions that govern urban commons.
  • Principle 5: Tech Justice highlights access to technology, the presence of digital infrastructure, and open data protocols as an enabling driver of collaboration and the creation of urban commons

These design principles articulate the types of conditions and factors necessary to instantiate the city as a collaborative space in which various forms of urban commons not only emerge but are sustainable. The concept of the co-city imagines the city as an infrastructure on which participants can share resources, engage in collective decision-making and co-production of shared urban resources, supported by open data and guided by principles of distributive justice. A co-city is based on polycentric governance of a variety of urban resources such as environmental, cultural, knowledge and digital goods that are co-managed through contractual or institutionalized public-private-community partnerships. Polycentric urban governance involves resource pooling and cooperation between five possible actors—social innovators, public authorities, businesses, civil society organizations, and knowledge institutions. These collaborative arrangements give birth to local peer-to-peer production of experimental, physical, digital and institutional platforms with three main aims: fostering social innovation in urban welfare provision, spurring collaborative economies as a driver of local economic development, and promoting inclusive urban regeneration of blighted areas. Public authorities play an important enabling role in creating and sustaining the co-city. The ultimate goal of a co-city is the creation of a more just and democratic city, also in light of the Lefebvrian approach of the right to the city.

The Co-Cities report and dataset

As part of the Co-Cities project, in collaboration with organizations like IASC, P2P Foundation, DESIS and key figures in the commons debate, we have been engaged in organizing and participating in scientific conferences, as well as identifying and evaluating commons-based projects and policies in European and American cities (where we have both worked) and in different geopolitical contexts. We have built thus far a dataset of more than 100 cities, which we surveyed over 18 months (from December 2015 to June 2017), and from which we have summarized more than 200 examples of urban commons projects and/or public policies from observed cities. The case studies we gathered come from different kinds of cities located all around the world, and include groundbreaking experiments in which we have been involved in Bologna and Turin (Italy), as well as those taking place in other Italian cities (e.g. Naples, Milan, Rome, Palermo, Bari, etc.). Our studies of various kinds of urban commons include global cities such as Seoul (South Korea), San Francisco (USA), Madrid and Barcelona (Spain), Amsterdam (Netherlands), Athens (Greece), Nairobi (Kenya), Medellin (Colombia), Bangalore (India) and many other cities (see the map below).

Among the better known recent examples considered by the scope of our research are the FabCity transition plan towards re-localized and distributed manufacturing, the Superblocks initiative, the Reglamento De Participación Ciudadana and the many other initiatives taken by the new Mayor of Barcelona, Ada Colau; the Bologna and Turin Regulation on Civic Collaboration for the Urban Commons; San Francisco, Seoul and Milan initiatives to transform themselves into “sharing cities”; Edinburgh and Glasgow as “cooperative cities”; and Naples’ regulation on urban civic uses.

The results of our research are discussed in a co-cities report to be released early in the Fall 2017 which aims to develop a common framework and understanding for “urban (commons) transitions.” These transitions include: patterns, processes, practices, and public policies that are community-driven and that position local communities as key political, economic and institutional actors in the delivery of services, production, and management of urban assets or local resources. The project focuses on emerging urban innovations and evolutions that are reshaping urban (and peri-urban) development and land use, urban and local economic patterns, urban welfare systems and democratic and political processes, as well as governmental decision-making and organization. Where we are able to identify a network of urban commons, or some degree of polycentricism in the governance of urban resources, then we can confidently begin to see the transformation of the city into a commons—a collaborative space—supported and enabled by the state.

From these examples, we have extracted the above described recurrent design principles and have identified common methodological tools employed across the globe and for different urban resources and phenomena. The report uses case studies to map where urban commons innovations are occurring, analyzes the features of each individual case, and presents the testimony of leaders or key participants in the case studies. One of the main goals in interviews with participants and leaders is to discern whether the projects captured here represent isolated projects or whether they represent a city that is experiencing a transition toward a co-city. The ultimate objective of this report is to raise awareness about the commonalities among these case-studies and to serve as guidance for urban policy makers, researchers, urban communities interested in transitioning toward a Co-City.

A map of the 100 cities surveyed as part of the Co-Cities project.
LabGov students and staff with the Community for the Public Park of Centocelle.
LabGov staff and students in action in the Co-Roma project.

Conclusion: An action-based platform and research project on co-cities

The developing digital platform (www.commoning.city) will contain the results of our studies as well as a map of co-cities. The platform also brings together the contributions of several global thought leaders who have been developing and refining the ideas underlying the conceptual pillars of the Co-City. On this open platform, local practitioners, local officials, engaged residents and others are able to “map” themselves by completing a simple questionnaire (available in the “Map Your Project” section of the website). Once mapped on the platform, participants will then receive access to the dataset. Those who lead policies, projects or practices will receive the text of the in-depth interview, allowing them to explain the specifics of policy, project or practice as a way of being included in the co-cities research project. In return, those participants’ projects will be analyzed and evaluated according to the design principles set out above, as well as receive general guidance and feedback on the policy, project or practice.

We intend to use the platform also as a means to establish Co-City projects in different cities (including Amsterdam, New York City, Liverpool, Accra) as a way to engage directly in the implementation of the above design principles in different legal/economic systems. We also hope to demonstrate their applicability across contexts and the particular forms of adaptation required, particularly so that we can improve and revise the overall framework and design principles. Towards this end, we are looking to work with cities in South America, Asia, Oceania that want to establish the co-city project. The ultimate goal of the research is to co-develop and improve the quality of the theoretical framework and to build a co-cities index.

Sheila Foster and Christian Iaione,
New York & Rome

on The Nature of Cities

Christian Iaione

about the writer
Christian Iaione

Christian Iaione is associate professor of public law at Guglielmo Marconi University of Rome, fellow of the Urban Law Center at Fordham University, and visiting professor of governance of the commons at LUISS Guido Carli where he directs LabGov – LABoratory for the GOVernance of the Commons (www.labgov.it). He is member of the Sharing Economy International Advisory Board of the Seoul Metropolitan Government and advisor of several Italian local governments and institutions.

Turning Rio Upside Down! The Baixo Rio Neighborhood Project

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

Leia uma versão em português aqui.

About fifteen years ago I fell in love with watersheds. Then, my passion extended to the forests and ecosystems that sustain them. Then, I discovered the urban waters and biodiversity, and consequently urban ecology, when I started researching on urban blue-green infrastructure and how people related to their environment. From then on, the complex urban landscape has driven me to a new world where social and ecological issues are intertwined, and offer an incredible universe for researching, learning and connecting to other people that are involved in transforming cities in all scales.

Baixo Rio presents a new opportunity to work from the bottom-up, together with Urban Planning and other city departments to enable a sustainable and participative urban transformation.

I have been fascinated about how grassroots movements and bottom-up approaches have been changing landscapes in many cities. At the same time, I have been very frustrated that in my city, Rio de Janeiro, people haven’t broken the bubble of the powerful decision-makers in the preparation to host the international sports events[1]: 2014 Soccer World Cup and 2016 Olympic Games. Arrangements that privileged some companies were always taken behind closed doors. The results are expressed in a violent and neglected city. The reasons are being acknowledged during the process of investigating the huge scandal of investments that focused on the city as a big business for few powerful people. Corruption blocked all grassroots movements to participate and choose greener and more sustainable projects, including the ones that I have participated on. As I have written about  before at TNOC, many dreams and movements I have participated in the last 5 years didn’t get beyond the  paper phase.

Now, I have an opportunity to apply my knowledge and expertise in a new venture that aims to transform the urban landscape, connecting people, waters and biodiversity, oriented to local businesses, with food production, arts and culture.

It is a chance to transform the city into a biophilic city! I am a member of the Steering Committee of the Biophlic Cities Project, led by Timothy Beatley (who is also a contributor of TNOC with several essays about the theme), which calls for the role of nature in the city as a priority to make it livable, sustainable, resilient and offer high quality of life and well-being. In his words: “A biophilic city is a natureful city. It puts nature at the core of its design and planning, not as an afterthought or an ornament. It’s key to everything that happens in the city.”

Baixo Rio, is an experiment in participatory urban transformation

Rio Comprido neighborhood

In this article, I will focus on a specific case of urban transformation that I am involved in right now. It is located in Rio de Janeiro. It is a challenging area named Rio Comprido (Long River). Below is a brief outline of the neighborhood’s present context and challenges with pollution and livability:

  • The neighborhood divided by a long viaduct, or canal, what remains of a diverted and channelized Comprido River
  • Dereliction and neglect
  • The canal is narrow, and the water is polluted by sewage and diffuse contamination by rainwater run-off
  • Floods occur during storms, due to the steep slopes that surround the area and the extensive paving of the land cover
  • The canal is not visible to people who drive in the upper fly-over
  • Heavy traffic congestion on weekdays under the bridge
  • Ghost streets with no people most of the time, especially during the weekends
  • Not friendly to walk, the cars and buses have total priority, and lack any attractiveness
  • Surrounded by 22 low-income communities (slums), where gangs fight against each other, and residents fear for their lives
  • The neighborhood is unsafe (actually nowadays the whole city is insecure—the army was called to try to restore order where drug traffickers and militia are the main rulers of most of the urban territory)
  • Extremely noisy
  • The air is heavily polluted

Despite these challenges, there is a huge opportunity to regenerate the urban landscape adjacent to the canal and spread to the vicinity. Besides mixed middle- to low-income residential areas, the neighborhood houses small businesses, larger companies, and educational institutions that have been suffering with the violence that directly or indirectly affect their operations.

Academic proposition

About two years ago, Lucas Araújo, an architecture and urbanism undergraduate student asked me to be his co-advisor on his final project. He wanted to develop a plan and design for green infrastructure in an area that was extremely impacted by the hard, hard engineering of the early 20th Century, when the Comprido river that names the neighborhood was diverted and channelized to enable the urbanization and the construction of streets on its two newly built concrete banks. In the early 1970’s the opening of a tunnel to connect north and south regions of the city led to the construction of a 2.6 km long viaduct over the canal, dividing and destroying the nice neighborhood close to the downtown region.

The change was abrupt and the area became a concrete and asphalt “nowhere”, where cars and busses circulate in a dark and polluted environment, not suitable for life. The area has been decaying for the last five decades  and nothing has been done to change the inhospitable landscape.

Rio Comprido (Long River) channelized and polluted underneath the flyover. Photo: Guto Santos
Polluted canal water with garbage floating in the shallow surface. Photo: Guto Santos
Irregular parking over buried river – totally paved ‘nowhere’, no people, no life – just cars. Photo: Guto Santos

During the following year, I had a chance to learn about the area, the challenges and opportunities that were hidden beneath the elevated highway. Lucas had a developed a very interesting process to accomplish his challenging project. During their undergraduate work, the students have very limited contact with landscape architecture and landscape planning and design. In spite of these academic limitations, the resulting plan was a robust proposition founded in the ecological and social systems of the ‘neighborshed’ (watershed + neighborhood). The project focused on the main square of the area, connected both sides of the canal, converted streets to pedestrian areas with components of local green infrastructure, such as rain gardens and bioswales, naturalized river banks, and much more.

Baixo Rio: seeing the city upside down

Last June I received an email from Guto Santos (Architect-Urbanist, head of Livre Arquitetura) telling me how passionate and motivated he was to transform the neglected area, Rio Comprido. He had worked for about 5 years in an office located close to the very end of the canal, and had walked in the region foreseeing the potential wasted by the short-sighted decision makers who focused their investments on increasing the sprawl of the city, and had no interest in revitalizing the degraded urban areas with infrastructure close to the downtown.

Academic proposition of Lucas Araújo – a River for All. Image: Lucas Araújo

Guto sent me his proposal, initially named the “Low Line” along the canal, inspired by the High Line in New York City. In his vision, humans had priority over nature, and the canal would be covered to enable social activities—recreation, sports, arts and culture—over the water. He wanted to discuss his conceptual proposal. It was really stimulating to hear from an energized young architect who wanted to improve the bleak and forgotten urban space.

Academic proposition of Lucas Araújo – a River for All. Image: Lucas Araújo
Academic proposition of Lucas Araújo – a River for All. Image: Lucas Araújo
Before and after vision of the Low Line over the watercourse. Image: Guto Santos
Before and after vision of the Low Line over the watercourse. Image: Guto Santos
Before and after vision of the Low Line over the watercourse. Credit: Guto Santos
During our first meeting, I listened to all the ideas he had developed over the years, and how he was gathering people interested in urban intervention. The project name became Baixo Rio. Low River, which in Rio de Janeiro has a double meaning: both low river and a gathering place where Cariocas, residents of the city meet). He explained how acupunctural interventions aimed to activate specific nodes would spread life along the “Low Line”. I asked why over the water and not in the car-dedicated lanes, as today the tendency is to daylight rivers and take cars out of the streets, giving priority to people and nature. After our conversation, he started to understand the role of nature (water and biodiversity) in the city. At that point I decided to join the team to contribute my networking skill and systemic view of the landscape, where green areas and natural flows are essential to the sustainability and resilience of the city, in addition to offering better quality of life and well-being. It is also a matter of social justice to bring better environmental conditions to the region.

The next step was to meet the initial interdisciplinary team that was eager to transform the idea into a real project. I invited three students of the Master’s program I coordinate to join us, one environmental scientist and two landscape architects (Lucas was one of them, for sure!).

From that point on, some members became more active and visited the area in different times: weekdays, week-ends, days and evenings.

Guto went to the main square on a Saturday evening, during a street fair that has been occurring on the site for the last 20 years. There he met the organizer, Deise dos Santos, a woman who leads the neighborhood’s most dynamic NGO, Aliança Resgate Organização Não Governamental—Non Gonvernmental Organization Rescue Alliance (ARONG). ARONG focuses on kids from 4 years old, teaching dance, jiu-jitsu, music (to play several instruments), informatics, and other activities.

ARONG dance class. Photo: Cecilia Herzog

The street fair is organized to fund the NGO named ARONG. The local leader doesn’t get involved in the regional conflicts, kids from all distressed communities attend her organization’s classes and events. Their parents must participate; parental participation is a requirement of enrolling children in the learning sessions. The institution and the street fair are an oasis in a socially complex region.

Teenagers and kids gather in the main room. Photo: Cecilia Herzog

Connecting to the municipality

In the same week, I participated in a workshop organized by the Urban Planning Department, when I had a chance to talk with two Department employees, who also teach in the same university I do. They asked me if I had any proposal for Rio Comprido, the forgotten area for which we were planning the Baixo Rio. I was astonished! It seemed like things just started coming together naturally. Either the stars were aligning or it was in fact time to start to recovering a city that was falling apart?

First sketches of the Baixo Rio event-intervention. Image: Guto Santos
A vision for the future: green the gray. Image: Guto Santos
Baixo Rio event sectors and traffic deviation. Image: Guto Santos
View of the Baixo Rio interventions – with pop-up forest, gallery (inside the container), amphitheater, lounge, escalade wall and pedestrian area. Image: Guto Santos

In a matter of days, we had a meeting in the City Hall to present our Baixo Rio proposition. We had developed a comprehensive vision for the future, and strategies to develop with a bottom-up approach. Lucas also presented his proposal, and nature came to the discussion as the main driver together with the social issues. The Department was also developing their own top-down project to introduce a bike lane under the viaduct. The prospects were very exciting!

Deise dos Santos receiving us on July 7th, 2017 and talks about her work and ARONG activities (Lucas Araújo, Guto Santos and Sandro, Deise and Cesar Rodrigues). Photo: Cecilia Herzog

Time to meet local activists

It was time to visit the ARONG venue, a nice small house a few blocks from the main square. We wanted to be on the ground and experience the institutions’ activities. Deise received us with a big smile, she was proud to present the space and talk about her work. We could watch dance and hip hop classes. We saw the instruments hanging on the walls waiting for young musicians, the computers available to offer the opportunity to learn informatics, the small library in the entrance where the parents socialize waiting for their kids.

Sandro a local resident who volunteers at the ARONG also came to talk to us, and explain his involvement with the kids and the community. It was a very enlightening interview. We learned of many of their achievements, their aspirations for the area, and also confirmed some of our assumptions in the design of our project. They want priority for people over cars. The first demand was a bike lane to connect them to the neighboring regions. Loving plants and trees, they asked for more green areas. We talked about the canal and asked about what happens during storms. They complained of water pollution, and the frequent floods that happen in the area. They rejoiced when we spoke of introducing natural banks to the canal, and immediately started envisioning the transformation of the landscape. We also talked about closing streets to vehicles, and making areas more pedestrian-friendly. They loved the idea!

How to make things happen and when

So far, we have developed a methodology to work in four concurrent fronts (image diagram):

  1. Conceptual strategic urban landscape plan. Develop an adaptive long-term plan for the whole area along the canal and the immediate vicinity. Focus on social, ecological, cultural and economic factors, and climate change challenges, such as strong storms and Urban Heat Island (UHI) effects aggravated by heat waves. Involve: public institutions and the city, private companies (preference for small and local businesses) organized collective groups, and NGOs. Timing: Continuous process.
  2. Research and local projects. Learn and organize data about social, ecological and economic issues throughout the process. Design and promote short-term demonstration projects to help people visualize the potential uses and appropriation of the space, at the same time advocate for cultural and ecological restoration, and support economic development based on local and circular opportunities that exist in the area. Involve: academic institutions, organized collective groups, NGOs, companies and residents. Timing: Intermittent throughout the process.
  3. Events and interventions. Develop strategic comprehensive planned happenings, with plural cultural, artistic and educational purpose, to attract and enable: social diversity contact, ecological education and awareness raising, local economic activation, art performances, promote the strategic plan and learn from the residents, stimulate public support, spark and maintain the landscape transformation process. Promote ephemeral and permanent urban interventions that improve the public realm, and inspire the sense of community and belonging. Timing: Occasional—develop a yearly agenda.
  4. Management and financing. Involve public institutions and the city, and private companies (preference for small and local businesses) in the long-term management and financing of the long and short term plan and projects. Timing: Intermittent— related to the strategic plan, and the local projects, events and interventions.

First things first

While we are working on the strategic plan, we decided to promote a multipurpose event and intervention in the beginning of spring to kick off the transformation process, and engage the local community and businesses, potential sponsors and partners.

Rio de Janeiro has had a wave of successful events that occupy streets, mainly focused on food, beer, handcrafts and music. The most popular are oriented to local and organic products. We foresee a great potential to ally urban transformation with a multipurpose event. To make this project come through, we needed somebody to produce it. This is when Rafael Braga, known as an event producer, came to our team. We had a meeting to present the initial proposal and he immediately joined us.

The first event-intervention is ready to go. It is named reVIRADA BAIXO RIO (Turning Rio Upside Down – with double meaning: The neighborhood Rio Comprido and the city Rio de Janeiro).

Activities of the event:

  • Social
  • Environmental
  • Educational
  • Arts (music, dance, cinema, tehater, street art)
  • Cultural and literary
  • Sports
  • Culinary and organic local food
  • Cinema – Environmental Documentary projection in the square

The event aims to incentivize the local businesses through public space transformation, closing streets to cars and offering sitting and walking areas. This is one of the priorities: offering the experience of a new urban environment, even if ephemeral, to motivate effective project development and implementation.

Interventions in the urban space (to be implemented for the Spring event)

  • Amphitheater – Low cost ephemeral structure aims to activate the area with multiple events (image). (Planned to stay for 60/90 days)
  • Exhibition VISION Baixo Rio Comprido – a gallery will be set inside a refurbished container. (Planned to stay for 60/90 days)

The exhibition will present:

  • Historical photographs of the Rio Comprido neighborhood
  • VISION Baixo Rio Comprido 2020 and 2030: printed boards of the preliminary Strategic Conceptual Urban Landscape Plan
  • VISION Baixo Rio Comprido 2030: virtual reality experience inside the gallery will show how the landscape would be transformed by 2030.
  • Implemented or not international references of urban landscape transformations on printed boards. The objective is to show the great potential of the area and the city to residents, and other stakeholders.
  • Pop-up Forest – Temporary green installation of riparian forest along the canal, and native species over paved surfaces.
  • Graffiti in the concrete banks of the canal, over the paved areas that hide the canal to signalize the existence of water underneath, and the pillars that hold the flyover.
  • Visual marks in paved surfaces, visually connecting walkable areas through streets (to be determined due to official restrictions).
  • Pulpit – space dedicated to encourage participants to manifest themselves within the urban space, the propositions of the Vision Baixo Rio Comprido, and other ideas people desire to publicly share in order to improve their place and the city.
  • Climbing wall – The two pillars of the flyover located in the main area will be converted to climbing walls.
  • Lounge – sitting areas dedicated to convivial and social interaction.

Activities that will take place in the areas with interventions:

  • Local Fair – ARONG (local NGO) fair will take place in the square as it has happened in the last 20 years, starting in the morning.
  • Music and dance presentations of the ARONG students, in the amphitheater.
  • Informal round-tables – Thematic chats with experts in urban issues, such as walkable cities, waters and biodiversity, social justice, sustainability, resilience, circular and local economy, in the amphitheater.
  • Local and organic producers of food and drinks, in the closed streets.
  • Food Trucks and Beer Fest, in the closed streets.
  • Book Fair, in the closed streets.
  • Street music players, throughout the pedestrian areas.
  • Classical Music – Musicians of the Brazilian Symphony Orchestra to provide public performances, in the amphitheater.
  • Organic food planting and workshop on urban agroforestry, in the square.

The way forward

I believe Baixo Rio presents a new opportunity to work from the bottom-up, together with Urban Planning and other city departments to enable a sustainable and participative urban transformation.

We received a green light from the city, and now we are raising funds and connecting with organizers for the many events planned to happen in less than 60 days.

This project allies many of my aspirations:

  • urban landscape’s direct inter-relation with sustainability, resilience and quality of life and well-being
  • prioritize nature in the city—waters and biodiversity
  • aims to activate people’s biophilia together with arts, culture, organic food production and sales
  • connect with local residents and grassroots movements
  • awaken people to public health impacts caused by the urban environment, food and consumption
  • stimulate local businesses focusing on reusing and recycling goods and value local knowledge and skills, such as secondhand clothes and thrift stores, shoe repair, electronic equipment restoration, handcrafts, and so on
  • raise awareness about climate change challenges to engage dwellers in the process of adaptation based on ecosystems and community solutions

I am also trying to introduce the concept of the biophilic city to the decision makers and residents, and this project could be the first step in this direction, toward ultimately becoming a partner city of the Biophilic Cities Project. Let’s see what will happen next.

I feel like we are running a marathon to enable an urban transformation that may be a catalyzer for greater change in the city in the early future. We have so much to do in so little time, but the team is committed to make our vision come true. I am happy to be engaged in an urban project again, and hope the outcome will be positive.

Baixo Rio Team that is working to TURN THE CITY UPSIDE DOWN in alphabetical order:
Amanda Saboya
Bruno d’Acri
Cecilia Polacow Herzog
Cesar Rodrigues
Gabriel Queiros
Guto Santos
Lucas Araújo
Marina Christiansen
Pedro Schreiber Ribeiro
Rafael Braga

Cecilia Herzog
Rio de Janeiro

On The Nature of Cities


[1] I have written about my experiences and perceptions about the perverse process of planning, designing and implementing the huge projects in preparation for the international events in my blog https://ceciliaherzog.wordpress.com

 

* * * * * 

Virando o Rio de cabeça para baixo! Projeto de Transformação de Paisagem Urbana do Baixo Rio

 (Traduzido por Cecilia Herzog.)

Cerca de quinze anos atrás eu me apaixonei pelas bacias hidrográficas. Então, minha paixão se estendeu às florestas e aos ecossistemas que os sustentam. Então, descobri as águas urbanas e a biodiversidade, e conseqüentemente a ecologia urbana, quando comecei a pesquisar em infraestrutura azul-verde urbana e como as pessoas se relacionavam com seu meio ambiente. A partir de então, a paisagem urbana complexa levou-me a um mundo novo onde as questões sociais e ecológicas estão entrelaçadas, e oferecem um universo incrível para pesquisar, aprender e se conectar a outras pessoas envolvidas na transformação de cidades em todas as escalas.

Fiquei fascinado sobre como movimentos de base e abordagens de baixo para cima têm mudado paisagens em muitas cidades. Ao mesmo tempo, fiquei muito frustrado de que, na minha cidade, no Rio de Janeiro, as pessoas não quebraram a bolha dos poderosos decisores na preparação para sediar os eventos esportivos internacionais: 2014 Copa do Mundo de Futebol e Jogos Olímpicos de 2016. Os arranjos que privilegiaram algumas empresas sempre foram levados a portas fechadas. Os resultados são expressos em uma cidade violenta e negligenciada. As razões estão sendo reconhecidas durante o processo de investigações sobre o enorme escândalo de investimentos que se concentrou na cidade como um grande negócio para poucas pessoas poderosas. A corrupção bloqueou todos os movimentos de base para participar e escolher projetos mais ecológicos e mais sustentáveis, inclusive aqueles em que participei. Como já escrevi sobre o TNOC, muitos sonhos e movimentos que participei nos últimos 5 anos não saíram do papel.

Agora, tenho a oportunidade de aplicar meu conhecimento e experiência em um novo empreendimento que visa transformar a paisagem urbana, conectar pessoas, águas e biodiversidade, orientadas para empresas locais, com produção de alimentos, artes e cultura.

É uma chance de transformar a cidade em uma cidade biofílica! Sou membro do Comitê Diretor do Projeto Biophlic Cities, liderado por Timothy Beatley (que também é colaborador da TNOC com vários ensaios sobre o tema), que exige o papel da natureza na cidade como prioridade para torná-lo Viváveis, sustentáveis, resistentes e oferecem alta qualidade de vida e bem-estar. Em suas palavras: “Uma cidade biofílica é uma cidade natural. Ele coloca a natureza no cerne do seu projeto e planejamento, não como uma reflexão tardia ou um ornamento. É a chave para tudo o que acontece na cidade “.

Baixo Rio, é um experimento em transformação urbana participativa

Bairro de Rio Comprido

Neste artigo, vou me concentrar em um caso específico de transformação urbana em que estou envolvido agora. Está localizado no Rio de Janeiro. É uma área desafiadora chamada Rio Comprido (Long River). Abaixo está um breve esboço do contexto atual do bairro e desafios com poluição e habitabilidade:

  • O bairro dividido por um longo viaduto, ou canal, o que resta de um rio Comprido desviado e canalizado
  • Derelição e negligência
  • O canal é estreito e a água é poluída por esgoto e contaminação difusa pelo escoamento da água da chuva
  • As inundações ocorrem durante as tempestades, devido às encostas íngremes que cercam a área e a extensa pavimentação da cobertura do solo
  • O canal não é visível para as pessoas que dirigem o voo superiorCongestionamento de tráfego pesado durante a semana sob a ponte
  • Ruas fantasmas sem pessoas na maioria das vezes, especialmente durante os fins de semana
  • Não são amigáveis ​​para caminhar, os carros e os ônibus têm prioridade total e não têm qualquer atratividade.
  • Rodeado por 22 comunidades de baixa renda (favelas), onde as gangues lutam uma contra a outra, e os moradores temem por suas vidas
  • O bairro é inseguro (na verdade, hoje em dia, toda a cidade é insegura – o exército foi chamado para tentar colocar algum pedido onde traficantes de drogas e milícias são os principais governantes da maior parte do território urbano)
  • Extremamente barulhento
  • O ar está fortemente poluído

Apesar desses desafios, há uma grande oportunidade para regenerar a paisagem urbana adjacente ao canal e se espalhar para a vizinhança. Além das áreas residenciais mestiças de baixa e baixa renda, o bairro abriga pequenas empresas, grandes empresas e instituições educacionais que sofreram com a violência que afeta direta ou indiretamente suas operações.

Proposição acadêmica

 Cerca de dois anos atrás, Lucas Araújo, um estudante de graduação em arquitetura e urbanismo pediu-me para ser seu co-assessor em seu projeto final. Ele queria desenvolver um plano e design para infra-estrutura verde em uma área que foi extremamente impactada pela engenharia rígida e dura do início do século XX, quando o rio Comprido que nomeia o bairro foi desviado e canalizado para permitir a urbanização e construção de Ruas em seus dois bancos de concreto recém-construídos. No início da década de 1970, a abertura de um túnel para conectar as regiões norte e sul da cidade levou à construção de um viaduto de 2,6 km de extensão sobre o canal, dividindo e destruindo o bairro agradável perto da região do centro da cidade.

A mudança foi abrupta e a área tornou-se um concreto e um asfalto “em nenhum lado”, onde carros e ônibus circulam em um ambiente sombrio e poluído, não adequado para a vida. A área foi decadente nas últimas cinco décadas e nada foi feito para mudar a paisagem inóspita.

Durante o ano seguinte, tive a oportunidade de aprender sobre a área, os desafios e as oportunidades que estavam escondidas sob a rodovia elevada. Lucas desenvolveu um processo muito interessante para realizar seu projeto desafiador. Durante o curso de graduação, os alunos têm contato muito limitado com a arquitetura paisagística e o planejamento e o design da paisagem. Apesar dessas limitações acadêmicas, o plano resultante foi uma proposta robusta fundada nos sistemas ecológicos e sociais do “vizinho” (bacia hidrográfica + bairro). O projeto centrou-se na praça principal da área, conectou ambos os lados do canal, converteu ruas em áreas pedestres com componentes de infra-estrutura verde local, como jardins de chuva e bioswales, bancos de rios naturalizados e muito mais.

Rio Comprido (Long River) channelized and polluted underneath the flyover. Photo: Guto Santos
Polluted canal water with garbage floating in the shallow surface. Photo: Guto Santos
Irregular parking over buried river – totally paved ‘nowhere’, no people, no life – just cars. Photo: Guto Santos

Baixo Rio: vendo a cidade de cabeça para baixo

Em junho passado, recebi um e-mail de Guto Santos (Arquiteto-Urbanista, diretor de Livre Arquitetura), dizendo-me como era apaixonado e motivado para transformar a área negligenciada, Rio Comprido. Ele havia trabalhado por cerca de 5 anos em um escritório localizado perto do final do canal e tinha caminhado na região prevendo o potencial desperdiçado pelos tomadores de decisão míope que concentraram seus investimentos no aumento da expansão da cidade e Não teve interesse em revitalizar as áreas urbanas degradadas com infra-estrutura próxima ao centro da cidade.

Academic proposition of Lucas Araújo – a River for All. Image: Lucas Araújo

Guto me enviou sua proposta, inicialmente chamada de “Linha baixa” ao longo do canal, inspirada na High Line da cidade de Nova York (imagens). Em sua visão, os humanos tinham prioridade sobre a natureza, e o canal seria coberto para permitir atividades sociais – recreação, esportes, artes e cultura – sobre a água. Ele queria discutir sua proposta conceitual. Era realmente estimulante ouvir de um jovem arquiteto energizado que queria melhorar o espaço urbano sombrio e esquecido.

Academic proposition of Lucas Araújo – a River for All. Image: Lucas Araújo
Academic proposition of Lucas Araújo – a River for All. Image: Lucas Araújo
Before and after vision of the Low Line over the watercourse. Image: Guto Santos
Before and after vision of the Low Line over the watercourse. Image: Guto Santos
Before and after vision of the Low Line over the watercourse. Credit: Guto Santos

Durante a nossa primeira reunião, escutei todas as idéias que desenvolveu ao longo dos anos, e como ele estava reunindo pessoas interessadas em intervenção urbana. O nome do projeto tornou-se Baixo Rio. Low River, que no Rio de Janeiro tem um duplo significado: tanto rio baixo como um lugar de encontro onde os cariocas, moradores da cidade se encontram). Ele explicou como as intervenções acupunturais destinadas a ativar nós específicos espalhariam a vida ao longo da “Linha baixa”. Perguntei por que sobre a água e não nas pistas dedicadas ao carro, uma vez que hoje a tendência é a luz do dia rios e tirar carros das ruas, dando prioridade às pessoas e à natureza. Após nossa conversa, ele começou a entender o papel da natureza (água e biodiversidade) na cidade. Naquele momento, decidi me juntar à equipe para contribuir com minhas habilidades de rede e visão sistêmica da paisagem, onde as áreas verdes e os fluxos naturais são essenciais para a sustentabilidade e a resiliência da cidade, além de oferecer uma melhor qualidade de vida e bem-estar. É também uma questão de justiça social para trazer melhores condições ambientais para a região.

O próximo passo foi encontrar a equipe interdisciplinar inicial que estava ansiosa para transformar a idéia em um projeto real. Convidei três alunos do programa de mestrado que eu coordenar para se juntar a nós, um cientista ambiental e dois arquitetos paisagistas (Lucas era um deles, com certeza!).

A partir desse momento, alguns membros se tornaram mais ativos e visitaram a área em diferentes momentos: dias da semana, fins de semana, dias e noites.

Guto foi para a praça principal em uma noite de sábado, durante uma feira de rua que tem ocorrido no site há 20 anos. Lá conheceu o organizador, Deise dos Santos, uma mulher que lidera a ONG mais dinâmica do bairro, Aliança Resgate Organização Não Governamental – Aliança de Resgate da Organização Não Governamental (ARONG). ARONG se concentra em crianças de 4 anos, ensino de dança, jiu-jitsu, música (para tocar vários instrumentos), informática e outras atividades. A feira de rua é organizada para financiar a ONG chamada ARONG (imagens). O líder local não se envolve nos conflitos regionais, crianças de todas as comunidades em dificuldades atendem as aulas e eventos da organização. Os pais devem participar; A participação dos pais é um requisito de matricular crianças nas sessões de aprendizagem. A instituição e a feira de rua são um oásis em uma região socialmente complexa.

ARONG dance class. Photo: Cecilia Herzog
Teenagers and kids gather in the main room. Photo: Cecilia Herzog

Conectando-se ao município

Na mesma semana, participei de uma oficina organizada pelo Departamento de Planejamento Urbano, quando tive a oportunidade de conversar com dois funcionários do Departamento, que também ensinam na mesma universidade que eu faço. Eles me perguntaram se eu tinha alguma proposta para Rio Comprido, a área esquecida para a qual estávamos planejando o Baixo Rio. Fiquei atônito! Parecia que as coisas simplesmente começaram a se juntar naturalmente. Ou as estrelas estavam se alinhando ou, de fato, era hora de começar a recuperar uma cidade que se desmoronava?

First sketches of the Baixo Rio event-intervention. Image: Guto Santos
A vision for the future: green the gray. Image: Guto Santos
Baixo Rio event sectors and traffic deviation. Image: Guto Santos
View of the Baixo Rio interventions – with pop-up forest, gallery (inside the container), amphitheater, lounge, escalade wall and pedestrian area. Image: Guto Santos

Em uma questão de dias, tivemos uma reunião na Prefeitura para apresentar nossa proposição do Baixo Rio. Nós desenvolvemos uma visão abrangente para o futuro e estratégias para desenvolver com uma abordagem ascendente (imagens). Lucas também apresentou sua proposta, e a natureza veio à discussão como principal motorista junto com as questões sociais. O Departamento também estava desenvolvendo seu próprio projeto de cima para baixo para introduzir uma pista de bicicleta sob o viaduto. As perspectivas foram muito emocionantes!

Tempo para se encontrar com ativistas locais

Deise dos Santos receiving us on July 7th, 2017 and talks about her work and ARONG activities (Lucas Araújo, Guto Santos and Sandro, Deise and Cesar Rodrigues). Photo: Cecilia Herzog

Era hora de visitar o local de ARONG, uma linda casa pequena a poucos quarteirões da praça principal. Queríamos estar no terreno e experimentar as atividades das instituições. Deise nos recebeu com um grande sorriso, ela estava orgulhosa de apresentar o espaço e falar sobre seu trabalho. Poderíamos assistir a aulas de dança e hip hop. Vimos os instrumentos pendurados nas paredes esperando por jovens músicos, os computadores disponíveis para oferecer a oportunidade de aprender informática, a pequena biblioteca na entrada onde os pais socializam.

Sandro, um residente local que se ofereceu no ARONG, também veio falar conosco e explicou seu envolvimento com as crianças e a comunidade. Foi uma entrevista muito esclarecedora. Aprendemos muitas de suas conquistas, suas aspirações para a área e também confirmamos algumas das nossas premissas no projeto do nosso projeto. Eles querem prioridade para pessoas em cima de carros. A primeira demanda foi uma pista de bicicleta para conectá-los às regiões vizinhas. Amando plantas e árvores, eles pediram mais áreas verdes. Nós conversamos sobre o canal e perguntamos sobre o que acontece durante as tempestades. Eles reclamaram da poluição da água e das inundações frequentes que acontecem na área. Eles se alegraram quando falamos sobre a introdução de bancos naturais para o canal, e imediatamente começamos a imaginar a transformação da paisagem. Nós também conversamos sobre fechar ruas para veículos e fazer áreas mais favoritas para os pedestres. Eles adoraram a idéia!

Como fazer as coisas acontecerem e quando

 Até agora, desenvolvemos uma metodologia para trabalhar em quatro frentes simultâneas (diagrama de imagem):

  1. Plano estratégico estratégico de paisagem urbana. Desenvolva um plano adaptativo a longo prazo para toda a área ao longo do canal e da vizinhança imediata. Concentre-se em fatores sociais, ecológicos, culturais e econômicos e desafios das mudanças climáticas, como tempestades fortes e efeitos da Ilha do calor urbano (UHI) agravados pelas ondas de calor. Envolver: instituições públicas e a cidade, empresas privadas (preferência por empresas pequenas e locais) organizaram grupos coletivos e ONGs. Tempo: processo contínuo.
  2. Projetos de pesquisa e locais. Aprenda e organize dados sobre questões sociais, ecológicas e econômicas ao longo do processo. Projetar e promover projetos de demonstração de curto prazo para ajudar as pessoas a visualizar os possíveis usos e apropriação do espaço, ao mesmo tempo que defendem a restauração cultural e ecológica e apoiem o desenvolvimento econômico com base em oportunidades locais e circulares que existem na área. Envolver: instituições acadêmicas, grupos coletivos organizados, ONGs, empresas e residentes. Temporização: intermitente ao longo do processo.
  3. Eventos e intervenções. Desenvolver eventos planejados estratégicos abrangentes, com propósitos culturais, artísticos e educacionais plurais, para atrair e permitir: contato de diversidade social, educação ecológica e conscientização, ativação econômica local, performances artísticas, promover o plano estratégico e aprender com os residentes, estimular o apoio público , Faísca e mantém o processo de transformação da paisagem. Promover intervenções urbanas efêmeras e permanentes que melhorem o domínio público e inspiram o senso de comunidade e pertença. Calendário: Ocasionalmente, desenvolva uma agenda anual.
  4. Gestão e financiamento. Envolver as instituições públicas e a cidade, e as empresas privadas (preferência por empresas pequenas e locais) na gestão e financiamento de longo prazo do plano e projetos de longo e curto prazo. Calendário: intermitente – relacionado ao plano estratégico, e projetos locais, eventos e intervenções.

Primeiras coisas primeiro

Enquanto estamos trabalhando no plano estratégico, decidimos promover um evento polivalente e uma intervenção no início da primavera para iniciar o processo de transformação e envolver a comunidade local e as empresas, potenciais patrocinadores e parceiros.

O Rio de Janeiro teve uma onda de eventos bem sucedidos que ocupam ruas, principalmente focadas em alimentos, cerveja, artesanato e música. Os mais populares são orientados para produtos locais e orgânicos. Prevemos um grande potencial para a transformação urbana aliada com um evento multifuncional. Para que este projeto venha, precisamos de alguém para produzi-lo. Foi quando Rafael Braga, conhecido como produtor de eventos, chegou ao nosso time. Tivemos uma reunião para apresentar a proposta inicial e ele imediatamente se juntou a nós.

O primeiro evento-intervenção está pronto para ir. É chamado reVIRADA BAIXO RIO (Turning Rio Upside Down – com duplo significado: o bairro Rio Comprido e a cidade do Rio de Janeiro).

Atividades do evento:

  •  Social
  • De Meio Ambiente
  • Educacional
  • Artes (música, dança, cinema, teatro, arte de rua)
  • Cultural e literário
  • Esportes
  • Comida local culinária e orgânica
  • Cinema – Projeção documental ambiental na praça

O evento visa incentivar as empresas locais através da transformação do espaço público, fechando ruas para carros e oferecendo áreas sentadas e a pé. Esta é uma das prioridades: oferecer a experiência de um novo ambiente urbano, mesmo que seja efêmero, para motivar o desenvolvimento e a implementação eficazes de projetos.

Intervenções no espaço urbano (a ser implementado para o evento Spring)

  • Anfiteatro – Estrutura efêmera de baixo custo tem como objetivo ativar a área com múltiplos eventos (imagem). (Planejado para ficar por 60/90 dias)
  • Exposição VISÃO Baixo Rio Comprido – uma galeria será configurada dentro de um recipiente recondicionado. (Planejado para ficar por 60/90 dias)

A exposição apresentará:

  • Fotografias históricas do bairro de Rio Comprido
  • VISÃO Baixo Rio Comprido 2020 e 2030: placas impressas do Plano Estratégico Estratégico Estratégico de Paisagem Urbana
  • VISÃO Baixo Rio Comprido 2030: experiência de realidade virtual dentro da galeria mostrará como a paisagem seria transformada até 2030.
  • Implementou ou não referências internacionais de transformações de paisagem urbana em placas impressas. O objetivo é mostrar o grande potencial da área e da cidade para os moradores e outras partes interessadas.
  • Floresta Pop-up – Instalação temporária verde da floresta ripária ao longo do canal e espécies nativas sobre superfícies pavimentadas.
  • Graffiti nos bancos de concreto do canal, sobre as áreas pavimentadas que escondem o canal para sinalizar a existência de água por baixo, e os pilares que mantêm o sobrevoo.
  • Marcas visíveis em superfícies pavimentadas, conectando visualmente áreas móveis através de ruas (a serem determinadas devido a restrições oficiais).
  • Púlpito – espaço dedicado a incentivar os participantes a se manifestarem no espaço urbano, as proposições da Visão Baixo Rio Comprido e outras idéias que as pessoas desejam compartilhar publicamente para melhorar seu lugar e a cidade.
  • Parede de escalada – Os dois pilares do sobreviver localizado na área principal serão convertidos em paredes de escalada.
  • Lounge – áreas de estar dedicadas à interação convivial e social.

Atividades que terão lugar nas áreas com intervenções:

  • Feira local – A feira ARONG (ONG local) terá lugar na praça, como aconteceu nos últimos 20 anos, começando pela manhã.
  • Apresentação de música e dança dos alunos de ARONG, no anfiteatro.
  • Mesas redondas informais – Chats temáticos com especialistas em questões urbanas, como cidades itinerantes, águas e biodiversidade, justiça social, sustentabilidade, resiliência, economia circular e local, no anfiteatro.
  • Produtores locais e orgânicos de alimentos e bebidas, nas ruas fechadas.
  • Food Trucks and Beer Fest, nas ruas fechadas.
  • Feira do Livro, nas ruas fechadas.
  • Jogadores de música de rua, em todas as áreas pedestres.
  • Música clássica – Músicos da Orquestra Sinfônica Brasileira para oferecer performances públicas, no anfiteatro.
  • Plantação de alimentos orgânicos e workshop sobre agrossilvicultura urbana, na praça.

O caminho a seguir

Acredito que o Baixo Rio apresenta uma nova oportunidade de trabalhar de baixo para cima, junto com o Urbanismo e outros departamentos da cidade para permitir uma transformação urbana sustentável e participativa.

Recebemos uma luz verde da cidade, e agora estamos arrecadando fundos e conectando-se com os organizadores para os muitos eventos planejados para acontecer em menos de 60 dias.

Este projeto alias muitas das minhas aspirações:

  • Inter-relação direta da paisagem urbana com sustentabilidade, resiliência e qualidade de vida e bem-estar
  • priorizar a natureza nas cidades-águas e biodiversidade
  • visa ativar a biofilia das pessoas junto com artes, cultura, produção de alimentos orgânicos e vendas
  • conectar-se com residentes locais e movimentos de base
  • despertar as pessoas para os impactos da saúde pública causados ​​pelo ambiente urbano, alimentação e consumo
  • estimular as empresas locais concentrando-se na reutilização e reciclagem de bens e valorizam conhecimentos e habilidades locais, como roupas de segunda mão e lojas de segunda mão, reparação de calçados, restauração de equipamentos eletrônicos, artesanato e assim por diante
  • aumentar a conscientização sobre os desafios das mudanças climáticas para envolver os moradores no processo de adaptação baseado em ecossistemas e soluções comunitárias

Também estou tentando introduzir o conceito de cidade biofílica para os tomadores de decisão e os residentes, e este projeto pode ser o primeiro passo nessa direção, e talvez se tornar uma cidade parceira do Projeto Biophilic Cities. Vamos ver o que acontecerá depois.

Eu sinto que estamos executando uma maratona para permitir uma transformação urbana que pode ser um catalisador para uma maior mudança na cidade no início do futuro. Temos muito a fazer em tão pouco tempo, mas a equipe está empenhada em tornar a nossa visão realidade. Estou feliz em me envolver novamente em um projeto urbano e espero que o resultado seja positivo.

Baixo Rio Equipe que está trabalhando para girar a cidade antes
em ordem alfabética:
Amanda Saboya
Bruno d’Acri
Cecilia Polacow Herzog
Cesar Rodrigues
Gabriel Queiros
Guto Santos
Lucas Araújo
Marina Christiansen
Pedro Schreiber Ribeiro
Rafael Braga

Cecilia Herzog
Rio de Janeiro

On The Nature of Cities

1 — Eu escrevi sobre minhas experiências e percepções sobre o processo perverso de planejar, projetar e implementar os enormes projetos em preparação para os eventos internacionais no meu blog: https://ceciliaherzog.wordpress.com

Imagine an “ecological certification” for urban design. What are such a certification’s key elements?

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
Regularly, we feature a Global Roundtable in which a group of people respond to a specific question in The Nature of Cities.
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Hover over a name to see an excerpt of their response…click on the name to see their full response.
Ankia Bormans, Cape TownPerhaps a more sustainable approach would be to develop a strategy of assessment where it is ascertained how ecological considerations can enhance or assist in alleviating socio-economic issues.
Katie Coyne, AustinCertification, if fulfilled, should be more than just a trophy, but lead to greater resource efficiency, quantifiable benefits to the local community, and lower life-cycle costs to the owners of the project.
Sarah Dooling, Austin/BostonLEED v4 social equity credits broaden conventional certifications beyond technical standards, but must go further to fundamentally address persistent inequities in design among neighborhoods.
Nigel Dunnett, ScheffieldBasing ecological certification on species lists alone, as is often done in the U.K., is not good ecology, and is a fundamental misunderstanding of the nature of plant communities and of dynamic ecological functions.
Ana Faggi, Buenos AiresAn ecological certification for urban site design should guarantee that the project has considered the site as a living system. This could also help to create inspirational places engaging communities in valuing sustainable sites.
Sarah Hinners, Salt Lake CityNo one should assume that checking a certain number of boxes in a certification scheme assures that you’ve done all you need to do to save the world, even one project at a time.
Mark Hostetler, GainesvilleWhat happens during the construction and postconstruction phases can ruin the ecological value of ecology-sensitive designs. Current certifications schemes don’t address this.
Jason King, SeattleWhile SITES and Salmon Safe begin to address ecological issues, a true ecological certification, in the sense of one that measures actual place-specific ecological value, does not currently exist.
Marit Larson, New YorkTwo key factors should be incorporated in urban ecological urban design — and in an ecological certification program: (1) continued research on the ecological assumptions of design; (2) planning for maintenance and adaptive management.
Nina-Marie Lister, TorontoEcological design is a package deal: ecological performance plus human response — and that is more than a measure. It’s a long-term investment plus passion and care.
Travis Longcore, Los AngelesThree elements are needed for any certification: bird-friendly design; reduction in light pollution; and rules for pesticides and wildlife interactions.
Colin Meurk, Christchurch The first solution for competent decision making is for a certified ecologist to be a required member at all board and governance tables.
Diane Pataki, Salt Lake CityMany people should have a say in developing an ecological certification, but scientists need to speak up too. These days it’s ineffective at best and dangerous at worst to wait for someone else to generate the checklist for us.
Mohan Rao, BangaloreTerms like rating, ranking, and certification need to be replaced with evaluation and benchmarking. This is not merely pedantic nitpicking but an important step towards reimagining both the process and outcome.
Aditya Sood, DelhiIt can’t just be about “sites”. The impact of sites is felt not just within urban limits, but much beyond it.
David Maddox

about the writer
David Maddox

David loves urban spaces and nature. He loves creativity and collaboration. He loves theatre and music. In his life and work he has practiced in all of these as, in various moments, a scientist, a climate change researcher, a land steward, an ecological practitioner, composer, a playwright, a musician, an actor, and a theatre director. David's dad told him once that he needed a back up plan, something to "fall back on". So he bought a tuba.

Prompt

Urban sites gets planned. Urban sites get designed. Urban sites get built. Many of them are labelled as “sustainable”, or “ecological”. Are they so? How would we know? What do we even mean by the words sustainable and ecological, especially when put alongside the more common design descriptors relating to aesthetics and social function? Integrating these ideas suggests the need for various disciplines — ecology, landscape architecture, and planning, at least — to hash out the common principles into a shared understanding to advance evidence-based and ecologically sound design. Conversations like this can easily turn to certifications.

The Oxford Living Dictionary gives the following definition for the noun “certification”:

The action or process of providing someone or something with an official document attesting to a status or level of achievement.

A certification is a professional seal of approval, based on a set of professionally confirmed metrics. Indeed, we certify people for their expertise; there are certifications for organic produce; for fair trade coffee; and many more. And if we want to call urban sites that are designed to be “ecological” or “sustainable”, then we could certify these too. In theory, it would hold designers to a standard. It would give managers and policy makers confidence. It would put the ecology into ecological design.

That is, if we could actually agree on which underlying values and metrics should be built into such a certification. This is the conservation we are having here in this roundtable, and the responses are all over the map. What the specific metrics are, and at what phase of  a project they should be applied — even whether it is a good idea at all — are offered in diverse and sometimes provocative  answers.

Some examples of ecological design certifications already exist. LEED, owned by Green Business Certification Inc, has evolved to include more ecological and social parameters. The Sustainable SITES Initiative is a metric-based scheme that, according to their website, “ushers landscape architects, engineers and others toward practices that protect ecosystems and enhance the mosaic of benefits they continuously provide our communities…” There the Building Research Establishment Environmental Assessment Method — BREEAM — based in the U.K. Other certifications exist to focus on species or systems, such as Salmon Safe. There are some created by and for specific cities. New York has developed several certifications, including  the Waterfront Edge Design Guidelines, or WEDG (“WEDG is doing for the waterfront what LEED® has done for buildings”, says their website). The always environmentally progressive Singapore created a Landscape Excellence Assessment Framework, or LEAF). [Note: This is not meant to be a comprehensive list, just an illustrative one.] 

So, a number of certifications exist that are relevant to our theme, and each emphasizes a different but overlapping set of ecological and social parameters. Perhaps none are perfect, but all try to build some ecology into the worldview of design. Enough ecology? The right ecology? Do interdisciplinary teams lack a shared vocabulary? (Yes, as we discussed here in a previous roundtable.) What is needed to move froward?

We have gathered 15 designers and ecologists to talk about ecological design certifications. They were invited to celebrate or criticize existing systems, if they cared to. But mostly they were prompted to talk about the key principles and core metrics that would make the phrase “ecological design” harmonize the words ecological and design.

Ankia Bormans

about the writer
Ankia Bormans

I came to Landscape Architecture by serendipity. I have many passions and perhaps the greatest passion is curiosity, as that allows me to immerse myself in the process without bothering or caring too much for the end result.

Ankia Bormans

Site analysis and evaluation in a developing country

Mechanisms for site analysis and evaluation have been developed, with the most notable that of SITES, GBC (Australia) and LEED (USGBC). The Green Building Council of South Africa have amended and adopted GBC and have adjusted the document to apply to the environmental and building legislation of South Africa. The document allows for the assessment of a building and more importantly the assessment of a green precinct.

Perhaps a more sustainable approach would be to develop a strategy of assessment where it is ascertained how ecological considerations can enhance or assist in alleviating socio-economic issues.
Although this is a great step forward, the development of a tool to assess any site, be it a rural landscape/site or an urban landscape/site, needs to be developed even further to apply to all the constraints that face us in a developing country.

In both the cases of SITES and GBCSA, the tools are relevant and useful but fall short when it comes to addressing the social and economic issues communities are faced within a developing country such as South Africa. These communities are often faced with more immediate needs, such as ensuring community safety, providing basic needs, developing sufficient public health systems, transport systems and education. These needs take precedence, often at the cost of ecological considerations.

Although there is a section in both SITES and GBCSA relating to the ecological rehabilitation of a site and the responsibility to healthy communities, it fails to address the issues when communities are already established and are in the process of being upgraded in situ.

It is understood that better ecological design will enhance and benefit communities, however pressing socio-economic issues often take precedence to the suggested ecological issues. This is particularly true in situations where immediate remediation is required in order for the community to benefit. Transport systems are a good case in point, where an immediate need to develop a sufficient transport system will take precedence over the rehabilitation of an adjacent river corridor or the upgrade of the stormwater run-off of an existing system. There are simply not enough resources to provide both, nor is there the time to develop an overarching strategy.

One can argue that this is exactly when an ecological assessment is required, but a strategy must be developed where the assessment of the site and the needs of the people can be accommodated without compromising one or the other.

There is a perception that taking a responsible ecological approach will miraculously change the way people respond to their immediate environment; that it will make a project instantly sustainable!

Questions remain. To what extent is the landscape (and inferred ecological responsibility) the appropriate tool to act as a catalyst to social change? What issues can be resolved or assisted through the change or upgrade in the landscape rather than expecting the ecological approach and upgrade of the landscape to be the miraculous answer to the complex issues facing developing countries?

As stated before, the issue is not merely to have a system of site assessment and ecological responsiveness, but how to act on, or within a site, remain ecologically responsible, and still take the needs of the community into account.

Sustainability should not only hinge on ecological factors but should take equality and accessibility and socio-economic factors into account. Perhaps a more sustainable approach would be to develop a strategy of assessment where it is ascertained how ecological considerations can enhance or assist in alleviating socio-economic issues.

More often than not projects or situations of this nature are in the public realm. Developing a strategy where ecology “dove-tails” with socio-economic issues the question around funding is also answered to a certain extent.

I certainly do not have the perfect answer, but feel the ecological assessment of urban sites is perhaps too reductive and do not address complexities in urban developments.

Katie Coyne

about the writer
Katie Coyne

Katie co-leads the Urban Ecology Studio at Asakura Robinson where she is a passionate advocate for design informed by studying the overlap between social and ecological systems.

Katie Coyne

Can an ecological certification help fix the critical problems in ecological design and Planning? 

Certification should be more than just a trophy, but lead to greater resource efficiency, quantifiable benefits to the local community, and lower life-cycle costs to the owners of the project.
Before considering what the key elements of an ecological certification are, it’s important to consider what a certification is trying to accomplish. My initial concern is that some proponents of certification schemes are trying to over-simplify complex systems, minimizing the ecology of a site to a series of checkboxes evaluated by the site’s designer.

I hope not, and believe a carefully considered certification should be a catalyst for interdisciplinary collaboration, raising the bar for what we expect from ecological design and planning work. We should start the conversation about what to include in a certification by understanding the most pressing problems we’re trying to solve and prioritize from there. The following outlines are what I see as our prevailing problems in ecological design and planning today and how a certification could be a part of the solution.

1. Disconnection: There is a disconnect between scientists and designers in language, rigor, practice spaces, value systems, and access to research and literature.

If you say “transect” an ecologist will think you’re talking about field sampling, but a designer will think of a graphic, depicting variables across a spatial gradient. A lack of common ground in language translates to an inability to understand expectations of rigor across disciplines and exacerbates physical and theoretical disconnections between disciplines by creating gaps between scientists and designers even when they are both at the table. For scientists, learning to be “bilingual” means they need to be more willing to understand how landscapes hold different value for different people and that ecological value is only one piece of the pie. When designers understand the value of ecological knowledge informing practice, they are often met with literature so filled with jargon that it remains inaccessible because they often do not know how to translate technical scientific data into design principles.

2. Interdisciplinarity: There is a lack of expectation for truly interdisciplinary teams which translates to designs that do not maximize multifunctionality.

Design firms are becoming more interdisciplinary internally — a step in the right direction. Even so, scientists who practice within their field should be regular parts of design teams. Lack of interdisciplinarity means that teams miss opportunities for multifunctional design and favor focusing only on the functions the team is most knowledgeable about.

3. Scale: Many designs focus on sites but do not address neighborhood, city, or regional scales.

Landscape architects and planners are not collaborating enough with each other; and, ecologists are not expounding on the impact larger regional networks have on systems function. Many city policies promote site-scale sustainability but miss neighborhood to regional scales. Policies promoting green infrastructure (GI) decoupled from a city-wide GI plan result in piece-meal development of projects thereby promoting concentrations of GI rather than distributed networks and resulting in differential distributions of GI across socio-economic gradients.

This image shows 5 scales of green infrastructure projects in either Houston or Austin, Texas as compared to Austin’s Waller Creek Watershed. While the Mueller Development has been heralded as a prime example of networked, ecologically-informed, neighborhood-scale landscape design, the most recent widely-celebrated project is Bagby Street—a 0.62 mile green street project in Houston. Image: Katie Coyne, 2017

4. Money: Even for projects with explicit urban ecological goals, there is typically not enough budget to pay ecological consultants as part of the design team or pay for monitoring before, during, and after project implementation.

All too often, academic expertise is expected to be provided free of charge and instead of these experts being integrated parts of design teams, their involvement is reduced to a single meeting. A limited number of informed clients willing to allocate sufficient funding for a consultant team to carry out rigorous research further exacerbates this problem.

All this considered, if an ecological certification is to be successful it must:

  1. Create a common language across multiple disciplines.
  2. Find a middle ground in expectations of rigor.
  3. Create universal metrics across disciplines that provide an accurate measure of project effectiveness against project goals and other projects.
  4. Create a forum whereby scientists and designers can regularly collaborate.
  5. Promote an understanding in ecological partners that ecological value is an equal part of a larger, holistic value set.
  6. Create an open-access database of academic research “translated” for non-scientists.
  7. Mandate the inclusion of interdisciplinary team members with verifiable expertise.
  8. Mandate that designs meet a minimum level of socio-cultural and ecological multifunctionality.
  9. Provide a certification opportunity for site, neighborhood, city and regional scales.
  10. Minimize the cost burden of the certification fee by creating a variable fee structure.
  11. Mandate that academic partners are equitably compensated members of the consultant team.
  12. Mandate socio-ecological research occur before, during, and after a design or planning process.
  13. Promote grant opportunities to help fill funding gaps.
  14. Emphasize that the certification, if fulfilled, will be more than just a trophy for a project but lead to greater resource efficiency, quantifiable benefits to the local community, and lower life-cycle costs to the owners of the project.

As an accredited professional with an existing certification program called Sustainable SITES, I can say that this program hits many of the key elements above, but not all. Most notably, SITES only certifies projects when constructed, leaving the possibility of certifying something like a neighborhood scale or larger green infrastructure plan unlikely, even if there are tangible results on the ground. LEED has a good precedent for what this model could look like with their LEED – Neighborhood Development certification. LEED-ND provides certification opportunities for new land development projects or redevelopment projects containing residential uses, nonresidential uses, or a mix at any stage of the development process, from conceptual planning to construction. Hopefully, SITES will prove to be the dynamic program it needs to be, evolving with practice and the input of its interdisciplinary supporters and critics, expanding its certification offerings to encourage rigorously designed landscapes across scales and contexts, and promoting more interdisciplinary conversations with designers, ecologists, and planners.

Sarah Dooling

about the writer
Sarah Dooling

Sarah is an interdisciplinary urban ecologist, with 17 years of experience in urban ecology, social work, and wildlife management. She works on colaborative design projects and policy development efforts that integrate ecological design, environmental planning and social equity issues.

Sarah Dooling

Expanding the social Work of site design: Certification of design mentoring programs in LEED social equity credits

The development of cities is driven by politics and social prejudices that concentrate the creation of aesthetically pleasing and ecologically functional green spaces in wealthier neighborhoods. Site designs, likewise, are also value laden, indivisible from larger cultural and economic systems that generate inequities. However, site designs can also be tools that weaken dominant views that poor neighborhoods are negligible and that the future of community residents is pre-determined by poverty and insufficient opportunities. Many designers feel overwhelmed by the seemingly unstoppable power of speculative economics and underlying racist policies that thwart attempts among design teams to resist the machinations of urban development. One approach for mainstreaming a social justice agenda within the design process is to expand the existing social equity credits of performance-based certification programs, to include credits that award points for sustained relationships between design teams and under-served communities that create possibilities for vibrant futures.

LEED v4 social equity credits broaden conventional certifications beyond technical standards, but must go further to fundamentally address persistent inequities in design among neighborhoods.

Certification creates and enforces standards about the construction and quality of a given product. For the design professions, including ecological design and landscape architecture, certification establishes areas of expertise and skills required in making site designs. Landscape professionals have not historically been trained to integrate social equity concerns into site design plans. However, in 2014 the LEED certification program, which awards points for new construction projects for buildings and master planned neighborhoods, created three social equity credits. Last year, the Landscape Architecture Foundation published The Declaration of Concern which called for broadening the social impact of designs and mitigating root causes of degradation. Momentum is gaining to make the design professions ecologically and socially progressive.

LEED v4 social equity credits clearly broaden conventional LEED site performance metrics from building material selections and energy use to corporate cultural practices that recognize the up and downstream processes involved in creating goods and bads for people and the environment. The first credit focuses on corporate responsibility, and awards companies points if they pay the prevailing regional wage for construction workers and provide adequate safety training for workers. The second credit awards points to companies who develop a community engagement process to determine what the community’s needs are relative to the company’s project. Social responsibility in supply chains is the third credit awarded to companies that prioritize worker health and safety, uphold non-discrimination practices, establish grievance procedures and maintain a harassment-free construction site.

However, certification programs, including LEED v4, must go further in order to achieve truly progressive change in design and development practices. With a widening gap between the wealthy and the poor, the seemingly unstoppable devastation created by gentrification pressures and the unrelenting criminalization of people of color, design professionals must be creative and fearless in their commitment to creating equitable futures. What does “an equitable future” look like for an African American young man who stops attending an under-funded public school and helps pay his family’s rent with money earned by selling drugs? What does an equitable future look like for a community of mothers who worry that their children will quit school and end up in prison?

Expanding the social impacts of design means that designers become aware of and listen to community concerns. Certification programs, like LEED, have been criticized for promoting feature indicators over indicators that assess actual performance. For communities struggling with school-to-prison pipelines, the modification of the physical environment alone remains necessary yet insufficient for addressing root causes of poverty and racism. One possible approach is to establish Design Mentoring programs that partner with local public schools to work with students.

Mentors offer youth opportunities to learn design skills and to explore how modifying physical space can improve their own neighborhood. Youth offer mentors experiences about precarious living and the opportunity to understand that the future is about collaborative survival. The site design process becomes the point of departure for building relationships that heal and open up dialogues where we begin to know more about ourselves and each other.

Incorporating Design Mentoring Programs credits into LEED Social Equity credits legitimizes this broader understanding of the design process and performance goals.

Site Performance Goal: Cultivate a culture of leadership and self-respect within at-risk community youth.

Metric 1.1: Number of public school students involved in mentoring programs involving design team members.

Metric 1.2: Number of public school students who successfully complete a one-year mentoring program and admitted into a post-secondary degree program.

The Design Mentoring Program would require basic technical training, including computer design programs (e.g., InDesign, CAD), hand-drawing and model building. Students would be involved in discussions about project scoping and attend community meetings to observe the influence of political and cultural dynamics on design decisions. Design team members would sign a one-year contract for each mentee, and develop learning goals with the mentee. Participating students would present at the end of their enrollment in the Design Mentoring Program to mentors and clients. Equally important, design team members would publically present their experiences of working closely with their mentees to clients, parents and education administrators.

Creating a Design Mentoring Program is no easy task for design firms. However, such a program is an investment in the future of places and people for whom the future is bleak. Certifying something like a Design Mentoring Program mainstreams the expectation that design professions work to empower historically marginalized communities. Building resilient communities must start where people, and their biotic neighbors, are hurting. Establishing Design Mentoring Program credits establishes the site design process through which learning and leadership converge in the lives of community residents who have the most at stake in reversing the patterns of inequitable development.

Nigel Dunnett

about the writer
Nigel Dunnett

Nigel Dunnett is Professor of Planting Design and Urban Horticulture, University of Sheffield, UK, integrating ecology, horticulture and urban design.

Nigel Dunnett

I’m a botanist and ecologist by training and much practical field experience, but I live my life as a researcher, teacher and practitioner in the field of landscape architecture, and specifically in introducing green infrastructure into new and existing developments, often in high-density urban contexts.

Basing ecological certification on species lists alone, as is often done in the U.K., is not good ecology, and is a fundamental misunderstanding of the nature of plant communities and of dynamic ecological functions.
One thing that my knowledge and personal observations have taught me is that in ecology, nothing is ever black and white, and universal truths are hard to come by. Instead of binary “good and bad” concepts, ecology is really all about gradients, and most things can be seen as being on a continuum between two extreme points. Moreover, what is seen as an absolute ecological rule by scientists in one generation, is then superceded by another, as further research and insight shows that in actual fact things were never that simple in the first place. Viewed in this light, ecological certification schemes can, highly ironically, potentially cause actual ecological damage if applied in an unthinking ways.

In the UK, ecological certification (Building Research Establishment Environmental Assessment Method, or BREEAM), as applied to landscape developments rather than buildings, comes down to lists of species: it’s a tick-box approach, based on a complex formula that is based primarily on the number of native species included in a scheme. “Biodiversity” is the key word, and great weight is placed on this at the planning permission stage of developments. Of course, biodiversity itself is a rather meaningless and nebulous term, especially when non-experts are responsible for making planning decisions. Does it mean the total number of species, or does it mean how closely it meets target native plant communities, or is it all about very rare and threatened native species?

Current ecological science journals are filled with articles that are based on extreme quantitative approaches, mathematical modeling, and complex advanced statistics that are a million miles from the more descriptive origins of the science. While quantitative approaches are perfect for certification schemes that largely cover materials, life-cycle costs, energy performance, etc. for buildings, can the same sort of methodology be applied to dynamic, living systems? Too often, as in the UK example, ecological goodness is reduced to a tick-box listing of native plants — the fact that they are native (however that is defined) is seen as the key thing, regardless as to whether they are appropriate for that situation or not.

And this is the key point. The ecological environment in a city is usually far removed from that of the surrounding hinterland or countryside. Soils are highly disturbed, modified, or non-existent. On green roofs and other landscapes over structure, there is no contact with natural soils or geologies. Temperatures are elevated (often significantly so) through the heat island effect, and other microclimatic elements are also modified. It therefore makes so scientific sense whatsoever to insist upon native species of the region, or to look to plant communities that may be typical of the area, or to hark back to some pre-development ideal that represents what would have happened in a pristine world on that site, using the oft-cited argument that native species of the region are best adapted to the climate and soils of that region.

Furthermore, the true urban ecological plant communities that are truly adapted to local conditions, and fully site-specific, are the recombinant communities based upon easily dispersed species that can reach and survive on tough, inhospitable urban sites — and they are composed of alien non-natives that have found their home in the city, alongside native species. These novel ecosystems are truly urban, cosmopolitan, spontaneous, and hugely metaphorical in terms of having great cultural resonance. And yet they would never be recognized in “purist” ecological certification schemes as being a valid basis for high scoring.

I’ve worked on many projects where ecological certification has meant the removal of a wide range of species from the original proposals — species that would have brought huge ecological benefit in terms of pollinator resources, fruits and seeds, and many other benefits, purely on the basis that they were not native. I’ve been heavily involved with green roof schemes, where certification has insisted that “green roofs for biodiversity” are installed, following restrictive sets of rules, only to see them fail because plant species selection has been wholly inappropriate, again because of a purist tick-box approach.

One of the big problems with this method of certification is that ecological factors trump aesthetic ones. Where landscapes are visible and useable, they must work for people, not just for biodiversity. Ecological certification is definitely a good idea, but it must be enlightened and flexible. Basing it on species lists alone is not good ecology, and is a fundamental misunderstanding of the nature of plant communities and of dynamic ecological functions. We need to move from the taxonomic idea that a plant community or ecosystem is composed of a standard list of species, to a functional approach, where it is the ecological functioning of the system that is of key importance. And we need to ensure that such schemes do not do active ecological damage in terms of the those processes and functions

Ana Faggi

about the writer
Ana Faggi

Ana Faggi graduated in agricultural engineering, and has a Ph.D. in Forest Science, she is currently Dean of the Engineer Faculty (Flores University, Argentina). Her main research interests are in Urban Ecology and Ecological Restoration.

Ana Faggi

An ecological certification for urban site design should guarantee that the project has considered the site as a living system. As such it could also help to create inspirational places engaging communities in valuing sustainable sites.
I believe that site certification could help to move away from technocratic, design-conforming local agency standards and codes whose advances are too slow (or nonexistent) to sufficiently keep to keep up with the design challenges imposed by the Anthropocene.

Many cities around the world continue to be built with paradigms of the past that do not consider the challenges imposed by climate change, geological and geomorphologic constraints, soil quality, water sources, the loss of biodiversity and the homogenization of the landscape. An ecological certification for urban site design should guarantee that the project has considered the site as a living system. As such it could also help to create inspirational places engaging communities in valuing sustainable sites.

Therefore, an ecological certification should include indicators of natural patterns such as topography, drainage, soils, local weather, and vegetation to be layered on manmade patterns such as land uses, transportation and facilities.

To develop an ecological certification framework one should set goals and define indicators to measure performance in meeting them. To pose an example, I present in the following table a checklist for a multi-scale assessment that allows assigning values to some variables discussed by Bry Sarté (2010) in his book Sustainable Infrastructure.

Assessment for an ecological certification of urban design, following Bry Sarté (2010).

Following this example, an urban site could reach the environmental certification if it scores at least 52 points (26 variables x 2 [the score for adequate]).

Nevertheless, as each site and design are unique, variables should be discussed on site following a participatory process. Evaluating these resources as key design assets will help people meet important community values and help to protect those saving costs of impacts mitigation in the future.

In closing, one question that I want to pose is: who should be responsible for ecological design certification? The city council? Professional councils? NGOs? Universities? Who can we trust for ecological certification without making a project more expensive?

Bibliography
Bry Sarté, S. 2010. Sustainable infrastructure. The Guide to Green Engineering and Design. John Wiley & Sons,, New Jersey.

Sarah Hinners

about the writer
Sarah Hinners

Sarah Hinners is a landscape and urban ecologist focused on bridging the gap between academic research and real-world planning and design applications. She is the Director of Research and Conservation at Red Butte Garden and Arboretum in Salt Lake City, Utah.

Sarah Hinners

No one should assume that checking a certain number of boxes in a certification scheme assures that you’ve done all you need to do to save the world, even one project at a time.
Designing for social-ecological systems

I am generally skeptical of anything that involves a checklist, a point system, a prescribed set of “design principles” or “best practices”. At most, these things should be a starting point, not an end in themselves. On principle, I disapprove of any certification system where project planners and designers sign off and walk away, where a certification plaque is displayed somewhere and everyone goes home feeling good about themselves. I am an ecologist, and I know through the challenges of trying to convey the nature of ecological science the tenuous balance that exists between the broadly generalizable and the locally unique. Seeing the world through a lens of complex adaptive systems means that in every place nature, culture and chance events interact to produce an emergent social-ecological system that is different from anywhere else, despite the best efforts of national and international forces to make every place look the same. As the world changes around us at dizzying speed, I see the fulcrum shifting toward the local, rendering generalized recommendations less relevant.

We live in the time of a great social-ecological transition. All of the new human habitat we build for ourselves now should be preparing the next several generations for that transition and the post-transition world. Most of the certification systems that I’m familiar with (namely LEED and SITES) are focused on conservation of ecological resources and minimizing pollution. Wise use of resources and conservation of natural systems are a good and necessary step of course, but how does that prepare the next few generations of humans, other than making resources go a bit further? It just hands off the current maladaptive system, with a little less fuel to run it. What tools do they need? The majority of humans that now live within urban areas are disempowered: they are uninformed, disconnected, and vulnerable to disruptions in the complex global-scale networks of economics and infrastructure that support their lives. These networks are ultimately rooted in the biophysical world of our planet but ordinary individuals and households have essentially zero power to pull any levers to influence that system. (The power of the individual consumer as a market force is oversold in most cases.)

I argue that what the next few generations need from their human habitat is a combination of knowledge, connections, and options. That is, knowledge to understand what they see and experience, how the everyday world around them works, and their place in it. Connection, to place, to each other, to their community and to other living things. And options, to change course, to try something different, to fix something that isn’t working, to adapt to changing conditions. This is a social-ecological conceptualization of resilience in that it embeds the human designers and inhabitants of the built environment within that environment and within “nature”, particularly local nature.

Therefore, the questions I would ask (not the same as criteria but a step in that direction) are:

  1. Social-ecological integration: What human community is associated with this project and how is their ongoing relationship with this system integrated into the design?
  2. Knowledge: What knowledge or understanding will be enhanced by this project, particularly for its local human community?
  3. Connections: How does this project enhance social-ecological connections within the human community and with place?
  4. Options: How does this project build capacity for social-ecological adaptation?

One final question about certification programs concerns me. What is the moment at which certification is earned? Upon completion of construction (the norm)? One year post-construction? Five years? Fifty years? At the end of its lifespan, whatever that means? I think that certification should be given by the next generation, quite frankly, but this removes the incentive.

In the end, working as I do now in the reality of the present, I find systems like SITES useful as a reference point, and as an approach to starting a discussion that “speaks the language” of the current way of doing things. But no one should assume that by checking a certain number of boxes that you’ve done all you need to do to save the world, even one project at a time.

Mark Hostetler

about the writer
Mark Hostetler

Dr. Mark Hostetler conducts research and outreach on how urban landscapes could be designed and managed to conserve biodiversity. He conducts a national continuing education course on conserving biodiversity in subdivision development, and published a book, The Green Leap: A Primer for Conserving Biodiversity in Subdivision Development.

Mark Hostetler

What happens during the construction and postconstruction phases can ruin the ecological value of ecology-sensitive designs. Current certifications schemes don’t address this.
Most certifications, while raising awareness about sustainable practices, are lacking in two areas: 1) all do not (adequately) go beyond design and address long-term management, and 2) functional, biodiversity conservation measures are sorely lacking in most certifications. This published article discusses these two points in detail, and I will highlight some concerns in this blog.

Most development certifications, such as LEED Neighborhood Design, spend most of their emphasis, and point allocation, on design. For example, design points given for appropriate placement of built areas and conserved areas. This, of course, is important; one would want to conserve the most highly valued ecological areas. However, what occurs during the construction and postconstruction phases can ruin the ecological value of these conserved areas. Typically, no certification points or very few points are available to project components outside of design.

Construction impacts: In a development project, contractors and sub-contractors sculpt the land, installing transportation systems and building lots. Earthwork machines raise and lower grades to meet local building regulations. This whole process is an extreme disruption of the development site. For example, after a rain event, sediment concentrations coming from construction sites are often 10 to 20 times greater than runoff from agricultural land and 1,000 to 2,000 times greater than forest areas. A nearby, protected wetland can be heavily impacted from an influx of large amounts of sediment, chemicals, and other pollutants. As another example, large, ecologically significant trees may be marked for conservation, but construction activities can kill them. Trees and their roots are extremely vulnerable to construction activity. Vehicles that run over the root zone cause soil compaction, reducing the ability of tree roots to absorb essential nutrients and water. Around 80% of soil compaction occurs in the first pass of a vehicle. Fencing that is placed around the trunk of the tree is usually flimsy and not monitored. Where I live in Florida, heavy machinery is often parked beneath trees for shade.

Another critical issue during construction is how land clearing creates conditions where invasive exotic plants can gain a foothold. Many invasive plants are adapted to disturbance and when native vegetation is removed, and they are typically the first to spread into an area. Earthwork machines, which are transported from other construction sites, may carry invasive plant seeds and propagules to the construction areas. Once invasive plants gain access to a site, they can spread into conserved natural areas and displace native plants, ultimately impacting native plant and animal communities and ecosystem services. Careful monitoring and removal of invasive plants SHOULD occur during construction, but alas, very little attention is given in most certification programs.

Postconstruction impacts: Any sustainable development design can still fail depending on what happens during the postconstruction phase. The way people manage their homes, yards, and neighborhoods dictates how ecologically functional a development is over time. The list of inappropriate behaviors is quite extensive and includes:

  • Excessive irrigation—Watering excessively draws down local groundwater supply, causing nearby wetlands to dry up. Also, overwatering causes an increase in leaching sending large amounts of pollutants to nearby streams, lakes, and wetlands.
  •  Excessive fertilization and pesticide use—Combined with overwatering, excessive amounts of nutrients and pesticides can enter waterbodies, causing a decline in water quality.
  • Spread of invasive plants and animals—How homeowners manage their pets and decisions made on landscaping can have dramatic consequences for conserved natural areas. For example, free roaming cats can kill a surprising number of birds, lizards, and frogs. Released pets, such as Burmese pythons (Python molurus bivittatus), have caused extensive ecosystem problems (e.g., the Florida Everglades). If a homeowner purchased and installed an invasive-exotic plant (e.g., Coral Ardisia Ardisia crenata), this plant would may spread into natural areas and outcompete native vegetation.
  • Replace native landscaping with exotics—Uninformed homeowners could replace natives with exotics and this would not only reduce biodiversity, but may also increase their use of fertilizers, pesticides, and irrigation.
  • Improper management of Low Impact Development (LID) features—LID features must be properly maintained by homeowners if they are to remain effective. Permeable pavements require annual vacuuming, swales and rain gardens should not be filled in, and cars and other vehicles should not park on swales. Lack of maintenance results in a loss of soil permeability preventing water from percolating into the ground.
  • All-terrain vehicles (ATVs) and foot traffic in conserved areas—If people and ATVs are not kept on designated trails, they can disrupt wildlife populations and destroy native vegetation.
  • Feeding wildlife and other human/wildlife conflicts—If people feed wildlife, wildlife species lose their fear of humans and can become a nuisance. Feeding alligators, raccoons, and squirrels may cause these animals to become aggressive. This is especially a problem with alligators, as their threat can be lethal.
  • Conflicts with natural area management practices—For example, many natural habitats (e.g., longleaf pine uplands) are maintained by prescribed fire. If homeowners are not supportive of prescribed burns, these natural areas would revert to something other than what was intended.

While design is important, I believe a majority of the total certification points should be allocated towards construction and postconstruction issues. I conclude by listing several key construction and postconstruction practices (again, taken directly from my online article). These practices should be implemented by the built environment professionals and supported by appropriate certification programs.

Construction

  • Reduction or elimination of turfgrass lawns. A number of native groundcovers and native shrubs and trees covers are available.
  • Utilization of stem wall construction for houses. Often, fill dirt is required to raise the grade of a lot to meet flood requirements. However, when using stem wall construction, only the footprint of the home is raised by the required amount to meet flooding standards. The whole site does not need to be graded; conserving topsoil on a lot-by-lot basis.
  • Establishment of clearly marked construction site access and routes that coincide with eventual streets and roads. This practice limits compaction of the soil to areas that will eventually contain roadways for the subdivision.
  • Designation of parking and stockpiling sites for vehicles and building materials. Limit and clearly mark these areas so contractors know where to park vehicles, to mix materials, and to store materials. Riparian buffers, in particular, should be off limits to vehicles and construction activities.
  • Avoidance of lowering or raising the grade around trees and natural areas as lowering the grade damages roots and raising the grade smothers them. Sturdy, protective fences must be installed at least around the dripline of trees.
  • Regular construction equipment checks for invasive-exotic material. Establish an effective monitoring system to identify and eradicate any invasive species and also to clean machines before they enter a construction site.
  • Construction and maintenance of silt fences. It only takes is one fence blow out to impact nearby wetlands.
  • Development of environmental covenants and contracts for all contractors and subcontractors. In particular, contracts should clearly identify areas and landscape features that are protected; list financial penalties for contractors that damage these areas. Even bonuses could be included where contractors do no damage to protected areas.

Postconstruction

  • Creation of strict Codes, Covenants, and Restrictions (CCRs) that address environmental practices and long-term management of yards, homes, and neighborhoods. These CCRs should describe environmental features installed on lots and shared spaces and appropriate measures to maintain these. An example of an environmental CCR can be found at http://edis.ifas.ufl.edu/uw248.
  • Develop and install an on-site education program that includes educational kiosks along primary walkways and a web site that provides detailed information about local environmental and conservation issues (see example here).
  • Establish a homeowner association that includes a sub-group to oversee conservation issues associated with built and conserved areas.
  • Create a funding source to help with the management of natural areas. Funds can be collected from homeowner association dues, home sales (and resales), and the sale of large, natural areas to land trusts with some of the funds retained for management.
  • Hire a landscaping company that understands environmental management techniques for shared common areas, such as stormwater retention ponds, forested areas, and riparian buffers.
Jason King

about the writer
Jason King

Jason King is a landscape architect focusing on urban ecology, practicing at GreenWorks, blogging at Landscape+Urbanism, and researching at Hidden Hydrology.

Jason King

Made to measure: Rating system for ecological performance

Certification systems are valuable drivers of change in development, shifting paradigms by offering added value to developers and owners to differentiate their products from those that merely meet codes. That said, many of these certifications continue to be primarily building-centric, including LEED, Living Building Challenge, BREEAM, and One Planet Living to name a few. The focus on building performance is laudable and have raised the bar for energy use, indoor air quality, and water usage. Additional certifications such as EnvisionSTARS and Green Roads, provide non-building project certification for infrastructure and transportation. Together, these certifications provide opportunities to address sustainability issues in a systematic way, however none of these address ecology holistically, with often simplified metrics of open space and habitat.

While SITES and Salmon Safe begin to address ecological issues, a true ecological certification, in the sense of one that measures actual place-specific ecological value, does not currently exist.
There have emerged in recent years some interesting new examples of certification that move beyond building-centric approaches, while adding a sharper focus on ecology to the mix. Sustainable Sites focuses on non-building projects, and offers new broad strategies that go beyond simple metrics to measure water, soils, vegetation, materials, and maintenance. Transdisciplinary in nature, the system developed robust metrics. For example, the biomass density index (BDI) goals for projects, provides a methodology that goes beyond a mere land cover to assign ecological values that are weighted to difference structural vegetation types.

On the west coast, Salmon Safe uses aquatic and ecosystem health for charismatic megafauna as the touch point for a certification system for parks, farms, campuses and urban sites. Focusing on water quality, habitat, urban ecosystem health, reduced use of chemical and pesticides, and proper construction practices, the system provides guidance for projects ranging from many acres to small parcels. Salmon Safe is unique in being less prescriptive, with guidelines for teams and that are evaluated by an interdisciplinary assessment team of experts in ecology, stormwater, habitat, integrated pest management (IPM), and landscape architecture convened as an assessment team to meet with project teams and evaluate success.

While SITES and Salmon Safe begin to address ecological issues, a true ecological certification, in the sense of one that measures actual place-specific ecological value, does not currently exist. The development of a good certification system requires the ability to both provide clear direction on expectations and levels of compliance with key targets and ensure a reasonably streamlined and consistent way to measure success. This is possible in ecological systems, but more difficult to translate into a metric that is widely adoptable or able to be simplified in a manner that is consistent from project to project. On one hand, a level of specialized knowledge would be needed to provide the necessary data to accomplish the measurements, for instance, using Shannon Diversity Index, conducting Floristic Quality Assessments. On the other hand, this level of rigor would ensure that projects employ a range of professional expertise (ecologist, wildlife biologists) to evaluate and measure pre- and post-development success in ways that are more scientifically rigorous. The certification system must also grapple with the dilemma of regional variation, with different bioregional variables that belie standardization due to the fact that most places have divergent ecological parameters.

At a minimum, the ecological certification system must:

  • Be specific to the ecoregion and promote the key indicators that are unique to a local condition, such as key indicator species, unique ecosystem goals, and specific challenges. The place-based approach would need to employ reviewers that are familiar with the location of the project, and
  • Have clear and measurable goals and objectives so users know the specific targets to achieve appropriate certification levels. This can take the form of a checklist approach, or a rating system via a number of points, or, use a less prescriptive approach, similar to Salmon Safe, using a panel of experts to assess project success.
  • Be developed by an interdisciplinary team, including designers, scientists, planners, and engineers. This allows for vetting and cross-pollination of ideas from multiple fields, but also ensures a combination of rigor and applicability.
  • While the challenges of creating such an ecological certification are not insignificant, the value in raising awareness and expanding our ability to measure project success becomes more vital as we address growing wicked problems. A true measure of projects with a focus on ecological health, and habitat value, provides key data in our strategies to address the impacts of climate change and resilience.
Marit Larson

about the writer
Marit Larson

Marit Larson is the Chief of the Natural Resources Group (NRG) at NYC Parks. NRG manages over 10,000acres of natural areas including forests, grasslands and wetlands, stormwater green infrastructure and a native plant nursery.

Marit Larson

Two key factors should be incorporated in urban ecological urban design—and in an ecological certification program: (1) continued research on the ecological assumptions of design; (2) planning for maintenance and adaptive management.
Ecological landscape design requires an understanding of how soil, hydrology and vegetation interact, and can be used to mimic, expand and protect native ecological communities, processes and functions. In urban areas, each of these basic elements of site design is usually disturbed or constrained. The extent of these constraints varies greatly, even within one city, due to different positions in the landscape, and age and types of development. An ecological certification would help planners, regulators and land managers who are trying to preserve and protect natural resources in complex urban environments.

Two examples in New York City show how ecological certifications, or variants thereof, are being tested. One is the Waterfront Edge Design Guidelines (WEDG), which was developed by the Waterfront Alliance to promote a resilient and accessible waterfront in a city with 520 miles (840 km) of shoreline. A large portion of the city waterfront is continuously in some state of construction or repair, as aged infrastructure is replaced and industrial zones on the water’s edge are repurposed. Though WEDG does not focus entirely on ecology — other principles include equity, community input, and access — it provides a good example of an ecological credit system for design. After all, there are few locations in a dense urban area where ecological objectives are the only considerations. In WEDG, ecological design credits are associated with a range of design actions, according to specific waterfront types (residential / commercial; parkland; industrial). Some of the key ecological design components in WEDG include: conduct a thorough site assessment; avoid impact to existing habitat; remove artificial fill or structures; maximize habitat complexity; utilize native vegetation; plan for invasive plant removal and control; minimize stormwater runoff and maximize detention; and use natural materials.

A second example is the effort under way by the New York City Department of City Planning to update rules in the Special Natural Area Districts (SNAD), which were established to manage construction in environmentally sensitive areas. Special districts, which cover about 30 sq mi (78 sq km), were designated to preserve the diversity and integrity of native habitats, as well as neighborhood character. Over the decades, however, the outcomes for both protection of natural features and construction have been unreliable. To be successful, this planning effort needs to present clear criteria for design and construction that are not too onerous to follow, particularly for small homeowners making renovations.

The new SNAD requirements include key elements for ecological site design such as: assessment of current site conditions (wetland boundaries, vegetation communities, rare plants, invasive species, and other features); native planting that provides biodiversity, connectivity, and structural complexity; reduction of impervious area; management of stormwater; and invasive plant control. The applicant will have access to reference information such as site-appropriate vegetation community types, plants species lists, and priority planting locations that will facilitate the process for both applicants and reviewers. One question is how to ensure developers can access the expertise needed to develop and ecologically sensitive design, without posing an excess burdens, particularly to small property owners. An ecological certification process could eventually provide a resource to help landowners understand expectations and find expert advice.

Several common elements of ecological design from both these New York City examples can generate quantitative (or semi-quantitative) metrics. Hydrologic performance, for example, can be measured by a comparison of stormwater runoff at a site under natural vegetated compared to built conditions. Plant selection criteria can include percentage of native species, numbers of species, and forms of species. Use of natural materials can be evaluated in volume, or area. These or other metric can be compared across ecological certification programs over time to assess how effective they are in producing desired outcomes of protecting natural resource over time.

Two more key factors should be incorporated in urban ecological urban design — and in an ecological certification program. One is science and research: whenever possible, assumptions about what ecological benefit a specific design element brings should be tested and quantified. The other is planning for maintenance and adaptive management. In theory, a sustainable design requires little maintenance. In practice, however, in an urban area, many sites are vulnerable to environmental stressors, such as invasive species and pollutants, as well as disturbance — if not directly on the site then on adjacent sites, which can add to more environmental stressors. An ecological certification program can help assure that these factors, which are usually afterthoughts, are seen as integral to effective ecological design.

Nina-Marie Lister

about the writer
Nina-Marie Lister

Nina-Marie Lister is Graduate Program Director and Associate Professor in the School of Urban + Regional Planning at Ryerson University in Toronto.

Nina-Marie Lister

Ecological Design-By-Numbers: Metrics for Success or Measuring Minutiae?

What is the measure of good ecological design? Is it in litres, degrees, and watts, or in happiness, heartbeats, and scent? Humans can establish measures for anything, and with it, as the maxim goes, we can know the price of everything and the value of nothing. Certification systems abound, and more recently, several new ones that establish criteria and associated performance measures for sustainability. But do they advance ecological design or fall short?

Ecological design is a package deal: ecological performance plus human response — and that is more than a measure. It’s a long-term investment plus passion and care.
Sym Van der Ryn and Stuart Cowan first described ecological design in 1996 as design that minimizes environmental harm while integrating itself with living processes*. This definition implies performance, which certification systems purport to measure. From ISO systems of manufacturing to LEED Green Buildings, rating and certification systems posit measures for success of materials, building and landscape projects; they are targeted at improving economic as well as environmental and health performance. In the context of landscape and environment, a new player on the ratings circuit has been the Sustainable SITES Initiative, a rating and certification system intended to evaluate the sustainability of landscape designs. Over the last decade, the American Society of Landscape Architects (ASLA) developed the SITES Initiative through a partnership with the University of Texas at Austin, using the Ladybird Johnston Wildflower Garden as a test case. Grounded in a framework of sustainable principles, SITES developed a variety of specific performance measures for design and construction practices that protect ecosystems and enhance their ecological benefits — such as climate regulation, carbon storage and flood mitigation. SITES-certified landscape designs are those that reduce water and energy consumption; filter and reduce stormwater runoff; provide and enhance wildlife habitat; improve air quality; improve human health; and increase outdoor recreation opportunities. The resulting rating system, now in its second version, was recently acquired by the U.S. Green Building Council, which also administers the LEED rating system for buildings. (See more here and here.)

But none of these factors and measures tell us about the quality and impacts of design on the human user (and they certainly don’t address perceptions of non-humans). How should ecologically designed projects look? What responses should they evoke? How should they make us feel? Should they inspire? Create joy? Be beautiful? These outcomes are both the essence and the nuances of design; while related to performance, some would argue, the emergent qualities of design cannot usefully be reduced to, let alone assessed by a single measure. As Ursula Franklin wryly observed, that which is easiest to measure often reveals the least. The challenge for certification and rating systems that relate to ecological design for landscapes and living systems is to integrate rather than reduce. Akin to living systems themselves, a robust rating system needs more than performance measures — it needs monitoring and assessment of human use, the quality of changes over time, adaptation and regeneration, and yes, emergence through design. Such complexity is hard to imagine, and certainly beyond the scope of a single profession or discipline. Rather, it suggests value in exploring processes by which we design, e.g. embracing active transdisciplinarity to develop integrated systems of knowledge, evaluation and monitoring. As useful as it can be to evaluate and rate performance, much depends on which performances are evaluated, and to what ends. Measuring changes in human attitude and beliefs is more challenging than measuring behaviour for example — but these are often connected phenomena and the link between them is essential to learning, and certainly to adaptation and response. When we measure and assess human responses to ecologically designed landscapes (e.g. parks in our cities) we learn much that can inform and improve future designs.

Although SITES is grounded in broad principles of sustainability, like most rating systems, it is silent on the matter of how a landscape should look, how it should make humans feel, or the response it should evoke. Design, at its core, is the act of creation through deliberate direction and intention. In an ecological context, this act embraces the processes of life itself: unfolding, evolving and adapting. Surely this integrative act is more than the sum of performance measures. To be clear, SITES and other related certification systems are positive steps to mainstreaming sustainability through tangible projects and markets, while cultivating political and public acceptance of ecological design. In an era of climate change and a growing challenge to design with nature in our cities, the development of resilient public landscapes demands rigourous evidence-based design with effective performance measures. But arguably more importantly, resilient ecological design will rest on the nuanced and critical social assessment of human use and response to the landscapes that ultimately sustain us. Ecological design is a package deal: performance plus response — and that is more than a measure. It’s a long-term investment plus passion and care.

*Van der Ryn, S & Cowan, S. 1996. Ecological Design. Washington: Island Press.

Travis Longcore

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Travis Longcore

Travis Longcore studies nature and cities. He teaches students at the University of Southern California in the Master of Landscape Architecture and B.S. in GeoDesign programs.

Travis Longcore

Wildlife interactions should be incorporated into ecological site certification

To imagine an ecological certification for urban site design requires development or establishment of a normative definition for ecology. The study of ecology, in theory, is about understanding how interrelated systems work and does not set out aspirational goals, even though many ecologists have such goals. In everyday language, however, “ecological” tends to be used to distinguish a concern for other species and their habitats in addition to concerns that are more anthropocentric. In that usage, an ecological certification could be useful in that it welcomes and encourages consideration of other species and their needs within human settlements. It is necessary because one could have designs that are at the pinnacle of energy efficiency and yet are devoid of life and detrimental to other species (e.g., bird-killing glass boxes with no landscaping so as to avoid the water use).

Three elements are needed for any certification: bird-friendly design; reduction in light pollution; and rules for pesticides and wildlife interactions.
The City Biodiversity Index (aka Singapore Index) is a useful tool to encourage thinking about other species and their needs at the municipal scale. It focuses on establishing a baseline of native species in some required and other user-specified categories and encourages municipalities to think about how biodiversity is integrated into local government and educational systems. It is not, however, well suited to guide project-level assessments and would cause only frustration if applied in that manner. Rather, it provides incentives for cities to create local biodiversity action plans that might include recommendations for project-level features that would encourage native biodiversity in a locally appropriate manner (for which the City would then improve its score on the Index). The SITES scorecard is an appropriate project-level tool for site design and contains several attributes that would be part of an ecological site certification: protect wetlands, floodplain function, and threatened species; conserve and use native plants, special status vegetation, and soils; and reduce light pollution. The SITES program stops short of making deeper and more explicit connections to native wildlife and their habitats and some point categories are couched in predominantly human terms (e.g., reduce light pollution).

For urban sites, an ecological certification that has co-existence with and promotion of native biodiversity could have many metrics. I offer three for this discussion.

First, bird-friendly design is essential, because even the most urban site will have some native bird species and could have more with some thought. The literature on avoiding bird deaths at windows is large and growing and detailed guidelines are available and have been adopted by major jurisdictions in the United States. Once collision hazards are addressed, site design can encourage bird use through provision of native plants, which provide needed food in the form of insects, seeds, and berries. Bird conservation science now identifies survival during the migratory period as critical to the future of many birds of forests and grasslands and designing bird-friendly cities is one way to help conserve birds across the continents.

Second, sophisticated guidance for reducing light pollution is needed in a manner that recognizes how differently other species perceive and react to light at night compared with humans. An ecologically certified site would minimize lighting to the times and places necessary, use the lowest possible illumination necessary, and avoid the shorter wavelengths of light (blue, violet, ultraviolet) that contribute most the physiological disruption of circadian rhythms and alterations in behavior such as insect attraction. “Dark-sky” recommendations are a good start in this direction, but are insufficient to address ecological concerns.

Third, any ecological certification of an urban place needs to have an enforceable set of regulations that govern interactions with wildlife. Urban wildlife specialists have clear recommendations that designers and project planners should incorporate from the start. For just a few examples: do not use anticoagulant rodenticides (they kill mammalian and avian predators); do not use neonicotinoid pesticides (they kill pollinators and birds); do not allow feeding of mammals (that includes unintentional feeding through unsecured trash and intentional feeding, such as feeding outdoor cats, which increases their concentrations and results in conflicts with predators such as coyotes); and remove stray and feral animals. Long-term ecological value depends on how a site is managed, and designers and planners can build that management into the site and set good standards at the outset.

These and other elements as a certification could provide benchmarks for designers to design better for native biodiversity in cities in a way that I believe would measurably improve outcomes in this area over other available certification schemes.

Colin Meurk

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Colin Meurk

Dr Colin Meurk, ONZM, is an Associate at Manaaki Whenua, a NZ government research institute specialising in characterisation, understanding and sustainable use of terrestrial resources. He holds adjunct positions at Canterbury and Lincoln Universities. His interests are applied biogeography, ecological restoration and design, landscape dynamics, urban ecology, conservation biology, and citizen science.

Colin Meurk

The profession of ecology is in a state of crisis — dismissed often as the preoccupation of “greenies” and “tree-huggers”, and yet an ecological lens and ecologically informed decisions about managing the planet and urban environments has probably never been more crucial. Ecology brings a particular holistic approach to analysing issues and problems and devising innovative, joined-up solutions. As they say, some of my best friends are landscape architects, ecological engineers, planners, environmental lawyers, etc., but unfortunately, at least in New Zealand, ecology is not part of their curriculum. And yet these other professions have largely usurped the role of ecology in urban planning and design with their powerful mantras of control, order, safety, colour, fashionable imagery, public health, and 3-D fly through graphics.

The first solution for competent decision making is for a certified ecologist to be a required member at all board and governance tables.
This imbalance can result in costly installations and designs devoid of meaning or historic connection and worst of all may be unsustainable because of lack of basic ecological knowledge about plant succession and the role of stress and disturbance in dictating vegetation potential and management. This feature (visible connection of landscape to history) has been described in the landscape architecture profession as “legibility”. Ironically, the profession that gave rise to this concept sometimes has to be reminded! Despite the emergence, in the 1990s, of the Triple Bottom Line concept to highlight the urgent need for at least three pillars of sustainability (business, sociology, ecology) to be part of decision-making, ecology has remained a poor cousin to the other, taken for granted, considerations. How many governments, boards, committees, and executives have an ecologist as a permanent member? No, ecology is seen as “common knowledge” so therefore why would you need an expert? As I’ve been told by an executive, “our board has very talented and experienced people, and when we have an environmental problem, we know to come and ask”. I said to him, “ok how about if the whole board was very experienced and talented ecologists, and when we have a business or engineering problem we know to come and ask”. While this inversion is somewhat funny, there is no requirement to change, and so we have the same kind of gate keepers who “don’t know that they don’t know” deciding when we need some green fluff added to the grand plan.

This is a slight deviation from ecological certification, but it is one thing to be certified, and quite another for there to be a protocol/rule/law in place that requires ecological input as an equal partner with the other pillars. This is a “metric” that needs to be applied to city hall and business rather than to ecologists. That is, decision-making bodies that evaluate or permit land management, natural values, development, etc., shall have equal representation of business/economics, sociology (in the broad sense, including cultural considerations and aesthetics), and ecology (may include environmental engineering but must have an experienced, ecosystem scale ecologist). Once this is achieved, we can be confident that more integrative, inclusive and sustainable decisions will be made.

So the first solution for competent decision making is for a certified ecologist to be a required member at all board and governance tables—to spot the risks and define the opportunities at an early stage of planning, to save wasting resources and to capture benefits. Ecology should be the hand-maiden of all site evaluation (making sure there isn’t some rare thing being sacrificed for someone’s “amazing” creation), planning, design (using appropriate species in appropriate/sustainable ways), AND implementation. Having an ecologist on all boards is not pretending that they are “neutral”, but it is acknowledging that the business and social representatives aren’t neutral either. It is critical to have an advocate defending all the values at the co-creation stage, not as a “nice-to-have” after thought.

Certification: Boards and clients need to have faith in the integrity and knowledge of the professionals working for them. So some standards are needed. New Zealand does have ecological members of environment courts, but more often than not they are people who have a good understanding of environmental law rather than ecology per se. Maybe I can elaborate on their standards later.

Criteria: Apart from having holistic credentials and expertise in given subfields of ecology, there is a need to demonstrate that one is capable of considering, evaluating and accommodating a broad cross-section of values and needs, and importantly is widely networked to all the sub-disciplines so that opinion can be sought from other appropriate expertise when required. Well, that sounds a bit like the gate keeper again, but at least it is a little closer to the coal face. Attention to minutiae as well as the big picture is essential, as is understanding the difference between a natural ecosystem and a restored or offset one. I’m somewhat protecting my own situation here — decades of experience (based on careful observation of nature in my own country and internationally), but inevitably old school in terms of modern statistical techniques. It seems that paper qualification is one measure, but years of (field) experience should also count.

So, paper qualifications, at least 5 years of field experience (perhaps engaged with community groups), publications, demonstration of wide multi-disciplinary networks, and references from peers and former clients/employees should be in the mix.

Diane Pataki

about the writer
Diane Pataki

Diane Pataki is a Professor of Biological Sciences, an Adjunct Professor of City & Metropolitan Planning, and Associate Vice President for Research at the University of Utah. She studies the role of urban landscaping and forestry in the socioecology of cities.]

Diane Pataki

Many people should have a say in developing an ecological certification, but scientists need to speak up too. These days it’s ineffective at best and dangerous at worst to wait for someone else to generate the checklist for us.
Three components (and caveats) of an ecological certification for urban site design

Just the other day I was in a dissertation defense quizzing a student on the definition of the term ecology. This led a colleague from another discipline to suggest that ecological scientists should stop claiming “ownership” of the term ecology, since the word is now used by many different groups to mean many different things. That’s the first issue that comes to mind when thinking about the question of ecological certification. It’s undoubtedly true that even within the intersecting fields of urban ecology, planning, and design, “ecological” means different things to different people.

Which brings me to my first concern about ecological certification:

1) We’ll actually have to agree on what we mean by ecological

Sometimes the term is highly normative, meaning something that’s more “natural” in some sense and therefore basically “good”. Scientists tend to bristle at the suggestion that a particular ecosystem can be “good” or “bad” (although if you scratch at the surface there’s a whole value system embedded in even the most “scientific” ecology). Similarly, my colleagues from the social and environmental sciences often use words like “interconnectedness” and “holistic” to describe places and ideas that are more ecological. This bears some relationship to the ways in which scientists envision ecology at the systems-level, though still, sometimes these words also give me pause, scientifically. Is everything really connected? Everything, in a literal sense? If so, it might be a tall order to understand all of these connections, and an even taller order to account for them explicitly in site design.

Nevertheless, there is some commonality across disciplines in the idea of systems interconnected with each other, and with the outside world. So one element of an ecological certification would probably be about connected-ness, both internally and to the external environment. Understanding how a site is connected to outside systems such as air, water, wildlife habitat, other natural resources, and hopefully the wellbeing of people is tractable, and could bring together several uses of the term “ecology”.

2) We need to talk about who gets to decide what’s important, and who’s willing to decide

This connectedness component presents its own problem though, in that some kind of prioritization is necessary to decide which relationships we should focus on. It’s not uncommon in certifications to generate some kind of checklist that contains all of the possible options we can think of, and then to let someone else decide what’s important: some group of stakeholders, clients, policymakers, or “the community” (which opens up a host of questions about how and why certain members of the community were consulted).

My colleagues on the social science side of the aisle are also quick to point out dynamics of power that determine who gets a seat at the table in deciding the components of ecological certification. The regulatory environment is hugely influential as well. In my experience in U.S. cities, environmental initiatives are still heavily influenced by the Clean Air Act and Clean Water Act, and their accompanying mandates to meet standards for the criteria air pollutants and Total Daily Maximum Loads. These were both critically important pieces of legislation that should be protected (as they are currently in some danger).

However, they’re also more than four decades old. It’s striking to me that in the last 45 years, we’ve made relatively little progress in coming to a consensus about basic metrics of environmental standards that facilitate human health outside of these federal mandates. Even coordinated efforts to reduce greenhouse gas emissions are stalled in the U.S. at the federal level (though admittedly much less so in the rest of the world). Perhaps the accelerating political actions of U.S. scientists responding to federal inaction will finally spur some scientific consensus on environmental metrics and desired outcomes that government mandates cannot. Because while many diverse stakeholders and community members must have a say in developing an ecological certification, scientists need to speak up too. These days it’s ineffective at best and dangerous at worst to wait for someone else to generate the checklist for us.

3) We need to be willing to do this the hard way, not the easy way

So that said, I think full greenhouse gas accounting needs to be part of an ecological certification. While many carbon accounting protocols have been developed for regulatory purposes, urban landscapes have unique issues that differ significantly from, say, avoiding deforestation in the tropics. In my opinion, too many projects seek to claim carbon “credits” either formally or informally by adding up the things that are easy to add, such as carbon contained in soils and trees.

But the climate system is not a carbon calculator. It sees everything: the fossil fuel emissions generated by an offsite nursery to grow the plants; the energy used to pump, treat, and spread irrigation water; the energy consumption and nitrous oxide emissions associated with inorganic fertilizer; and the emissions associated with excavation, transporting equipment, and maintenance.

If we want to promote sites that really contribute to solving climate change we need to do full life cycle accounting of landscapes, in the same way that the full life cycle of products is now commonly accounted for. It will take more information than is generally available for most projects, but it’s still tractable, and it’s the only way to know we’re making real progress in meeting climate goals through landscape projects.

Mohan Rao

about the writer
Mohan Rao

Mohan S Rao, an Environmental Design & Landscape Architecture professional, is the principal designer of the leading multi-disciplinary consultancy practice, Integrated Design (INDÉ), based in Bangalore, India

Mohan Rao

Ecological certification for Urban Site design – a really bad idea!!

The idea of a certification or rating is premised on the hypothesis that there is a single perfect solution against which a given intervention / proposal is weighed. One has to only examine the well-meaning but misplaced idea of certification prevalent in buildings. Focused on efficiency, the system has effectively flattened the very nature of built environment across the globe. In its efforts to standardize, the system has not only become highly prescriptive, but more dangerously, has reduced all built form into simplistic templates.

Terms like rating, ranking, and certification need to be replaced with evaluation and benchmarking. This is not merely pedantic nitpicking but an important step towards reimagining both the process and outcome.
If an ecological certification is deemed necessary, the first question would be: Why? What is the need for such a certification and what purpose does it serve? This may seem to be a moot point, but it is critical examine this before developing such a system. Is the purpose to conserve a sensitive ecology, maximize ecosystem services, reduce risk and/or increase resilience, perhaps all of these? Any intervention — urban or otherwise — invariably impacts the site, often in irreversible ways and one of the purposes of an ecological rating would be to ensure minimal damage to the environment. Current processes of certification are extremely building centric and thus have very limited applicability to natural processes.

In other words, if the intent is to mimic LEED-like certification for ecological performance, then yes — it is a bad idea. However, if the intent is to enable a framework for assessment of site level interventions for their ecological performance, the way to go would be creation of comprehensive benchmarking processes as against a mere certification akin to LEED. This is all the more critical given the negative experience of building certification.

An ecological evaluation process would have three necessary characteristics: diversity, prioritization, and temporality; aspects entirely missing from processes such as LEED.

Diversity is obvious, since the process needs to address the immense diversity of ecological processes. Even assuming that this would not be a global standard but one tailored to each country / region, the process would still encounter a wide variation in ecological parameters. One can see immense variation in soil quality, stratification, topography, etc., between sites separated by even a few kilometers.

Prioritisation is a bit more difficult since it may not be strictly objective. Even within a small geo-climatic context, behavior of natural elements and their interaction with each other is complex and varied. For example, a standard framework like zero-discharge cannot be universally applied across contexts. One will have to go beyond urban drainage demands and factor in ecological base flows upstream and downstream and to address capacity and resilience. The other aspect of prioritization comes to the fore when socio-cultural layers are laid over the site and context. The process should allow for subjective prioritization of issues based on both the natural and development context of the site. While not strictly technical, these parameters often determine the success or failure of an intervention.

Temporality is the ability to be able to not only interpret the process and outcome but also allow for dynamic changes in the system’s behavior over time. For example, one may develop a “manicured” landscape as a short-term measure to address erosion and dust but the desired outcome in the long term may be a gradual progression to natural landscapes. It is important to note that unlike building centric rating systems that are concerned with a product, an ecological evaluation process has to address the behavior of and changes in a natural system over time. Temporality becomes all the more critical if one has to integrate climate change challenges over the lifecycle of the intervention.

The ecological benchmarking process should necessarily address three broad aspects: Capacity, Flows and Resilience.

  • Capacity, or Natural Capacity, is the intrinsic capability of the system for generating, sequestering and/or recycling a given resource. This will be a factor of both geological and atmospheric agents to establish capacity of the site with respect to critical resources: water, biodiversity, nutrition, carbon, micronutrients, etc.
  • Resource Flow captures all the resources that are part of the natural system including key elements such as carbon, phosphorous, nitrogen, etc.
  • Resilience of the system maps key parameters likely to render the system vulnerable and disrupt its equilibrium.

The central idea of the ecological evaluation process would be to ascertain the changes in natural processes of the site and the extent to which the final product would enhance, support or disrupt these processes. Only when the benchmarking process is well established can the proposed intervention be evaluated for its impact on the site. This would imply a non-linear evaluation of each aspect of the development, unlike the silo approach seen in LEED-like rating systems. Based on the need, context and expected outcome, the intervention can be evaluated for overall performance. It is important to distinguish from conventional rating processes where above-average performance in one criterion can be offset by suboptimal performance in another (extremely good energy efficiency with very low water conservation, for example).

A critical difference between an ecological evaluation and LEED-like rating systems would be the benchmark. While building-centric conventional rating systems rely on the norm or business-as-usual models for comparison, an ecological evaluation system would derive benchmarks based on natural processes. An intervention would be evaluated for not how it compares with other conventional developments but on the degree of change it brings to the site in its natural state and manner in which that change is managed.

To illustrate one possible way in which ecological ratings may be actualised, one could examine water. LEED-like systems rate an intervention based on the idea of efficiency: reduction in demand, extent of recycling, quality of wastewater output, water harvesting, etc. The entire understanding of water here is one of demand management within piped networks. An ecological evaluation would encompass the complete water cycle: precipitation, run-off, atmospheric humidity, soil moisture, deep aquifer, fossil waters, embedded water in biotic systems, etc. The evaluation process would use the natural capacity of site and systems towards resource management and establish a baseline against which the proposed intervention is examined. The three characteristics of the benchmarking process — diversity, prioritization, temporality — will help address the changed hydrological cycle within the given context and develop strategies based on site specific priorities and over time. It should be noted that unlike LEED-like systems, development strategies are neither static nor dependent on the nature of development (industrial, housing, etc.), but are dynamic and defined by the intrinsic natural capacity of the site. (A part of this process is illustrated in the image below).

To address the original provocation — of ecological certification as a bad idea — the focus is on evaluation based on rigorous benchmarking of ecological processes and not comparative ranking and rating of interventions. Terms like rating, ranking, and certification need to be replaced with evaluation and benchmarking. This is not merely pedantic nitpicking but an important step towards reimagining both the process and outcome.

The process outlined above is by no means comprehensive or conclusive. It captures some of the essential elements I have used in my own work across diverse geographies over the last two decades. And it should be pointed out that the framework undergoes continuous changes when applied to a new site!

Credit: Mohan Rao. Click on the image to expand it.
Aditya Sood

about the writer
Aditya Sood

Aditya Sood has a diverse research and professional experience in water resource management, civil and environmental engineering, and in software development. He enjoys hiking, bird watching, photography, and occasional dabbling in oil paints.

Aditya Sood

It can’t just be about small sites. The impact of sites is felt not just within urban limits but much beyond it.
As the world population becomes more urbanized, urban centres will play a critical role in our quest for sustainable development. By its very nature, an urban centre is a densely-populated area with high per capita income and high consumption patterns. Hence its footprint goes much beyond its boundaries. The resources required to meet the demands of the population in an urban centre and the impact of waste generated by urban centres extend thousands of miles outside its boundaries. Sometimes the negative externalities that result cannot be directly linked to cities. It is also critical to look at the environment within the urban centres, since that impacts the wellbeing and heath of urban residents (and hence of the majority world population). Improving resource use within urban centres also helps in reducing conflict between urban and rural sectors. Efficient resource use within urban centres puts less pressure on rural sectors and forests, reduces pollution and hence is also beneficial for conservation.

Certification to a city cannot be a single matrix. It needs to incorporate different aspects of the city. I would group “Ecological Certification” for cities into 2 categories:

Resource Use Certification
This certification helps control the influence of cities beyond their boundaries.

  • Minimal waste: The goal of the city should be towards zero waste. This implies that all the components of a product produced are reused, thus leaving nothing for landfills. This requires a product life-cycle redesign in a way that allows for the reuse of its components. Since most of the industries are in cities, cities can play a significant role in changing the industry practices with the help of incentives and disincentives. The cities could also set up recycling units with active participation from industry.
  • Small footprint: Footprint implies amount of land (or atmosphere) required to sustain the use of natural resources. Cities consume food and water and pollute air and water. How far these impacts go and how large these areas are, should be part of the certification. Cities should encourage urban/peri-urban agriculture and buy food items grown locally or from nearby areas. Water should not be transported from large distances. Instead there should be well developed rainwater harvesting systems, water reuse mechanisms and proper use and management of local groundwater. Strict regulations should be in place for reducing air pollution. The wastewater generated should be treated and reused.
  • Energy self-sufficiency: Cities are the largest consumers of energy. Energy production is the main driver of climate change. Certification should be given based on how many of the buildings in city are energy efficient (LEED certification) and how much of the demand is being met from within city through renewable energy – such as building-integrated solar systems, geothermal, wind etc.
  • Stormwater management: The current goal of building stormwater drainage systems is to remove water immediately from the city through a network of pipes to a river or creek nearby. This is very detrimental to the health of the river or creek. The impervious surface created by a city increases runoff to rivers during storm events and reduces flow in dry season — both of which impact the aquatic biodiversity. With proper combination of decentralized stormwater management systems, storms should be managed to have minimum impact on natural river flows.

City Planning Certification
This certification is more to control a city’s impact within its boundaries.

  • Public transport: A city requires a good network of comfortable public transport with last-mile connectivity that encourages people to not use individual vehicles for their daily commute. This will help to decongest a city, reduce energy consumption, reduce environmental pollution, and reduce stress. There should be infrastructure and encouragement from the city to make people cycle or walk to nearby destinations.
  • Integration of green and grey infrastructure: As part of certification, there should be a way to reward a city for its emphasis on green infrastructure. For example, wastewater can be treated with a conventional system of sewage treatment plants or it can be done as a combination of conventional with green treatment (such as built wetlands).
  • Mixed development: Segregated development of society by residential, business areas and shopping areas lead to large travelling distances for work and even small needs. There should be proper integration of different categories of buildings to reduce daily travel.
  • People-friendly spaces: There could be other interventions such as parks, tree cover, car free plazas etc., which could enhance the living experience within a city.
  • Less noise pollution: A city should also focus on reducing noise pollution to bring down stress levels. Some examples: keeping railway lines away from residential areas, restrictions on use of loud speakers, proper design of expressways near residences.

For the Sake of the Common Good? “Gentrifying Conservationism” and “Green Evictions”

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
The spectre of “gentrifying conservationism” and “green evictions” will increasingly haunt segregated spaces and poor communities worldwide.
The “common good”—what an ambitious expression! As far as environmental protection is concerned, governments want us to believe that it is always performed precisely for the sake of the “common good”, or “public interest”. However, things are not that simple.

From a socially critical viewpoint, environmental protection remains a dangerously vague expression, as long as the questions regarding which environment should be protected, how and for the benefit of whom are not adequately clarified. There are some socially very conservative approaches to environmental protection (represented by a heterogeneous set of statements and mottos such as “humans are nothing, nature is everything”, “environmental protection is ultimately a matter of national security” and “the free market and property rights provide the best means to protect our environment”), and among them we can find an interesting type, which I have termed “gentrifying conservationism” (Souza, 2016a, 2016b). It corresponds to a truly exclusionary kind of environmental protection.

The term “gentrification” was introduced in the mid-1960s, but the concept has become widely used only in recent decades as a result of the new waves of “urban renewal” plus displacement of poor people that we have witnessed in the context of the post-1980s (or post-1990s in some countries) neo-liberal city. Although processes of urban renewal that result in displacement of poor people have occurred for generations in many cities, as European and American (both US-American and Latin American) examples testify, gentrification as a concept tries to capture the new aspects of contemporary globalised and neo-liberal capitalism. Different aspects of gentrification have been systematically studied since the 1980s, and several authors have discussed the socio-geographical range of this phenomenon. One of the facets that we must pay attention to is the interplay between gentrification and environmental protection.

An increasing number of authors have paid attention to this interplay. Contributing to a debate in The Nature of Cities (TNOC) a few years ago around the question “What are the social justice implications of urban ecology, and how can we make sure that ‘green cities’ are not synonymous with ‘gentrified’ or ‘exclusive’ cities?,” Rebecca Bratspies warned that “without strong public-minded government oversight, ‘green’ development too often leads to exclusion and displacement” (TNOC, 2014). However, she and most other contributors seem to be too optimistic regarding the potentialities of state-led urban design and planning, overemphasising the effectiveness of tools such as inclusionary zoning. They fail to recognise both the deeper causes of gentrification and displacement (that is, the capitalist city, particularly the neo-liberal one) and the essential limits of state-led urban planning.

In the Global North, a strong link between gentrification and the designation of conservation areas has been emphasised by authors as different as, for instance, Ahlfeldt et al. (2013) and Sandberg et al. (2013). Ahlfeldt et al. (2013) do not address it from a particularly critical point of view; instead, they stress the importance of “cooperative behaviour” between homeowners and the market, observing that most buyers acknowledge and appreciate increases to their property’s value when nearby areas are designated as conservation zones. In contrast, Sandberg et al. (2013, p. 238) explore what they understand to be a “neoliberalisation of conservation” through critical lenses. For them, the exurbanites they observed in the Greater Toronto area—specifically, in the place known as Oak Ridges Moraine—“[…] leave the city in search of the ‘ideal countryside’ based on an Anglo-American countryside idea, hoping to become more closely connected to nature” (p. 110). But what Sandberg et al. actually found there was, in their words, “[…] an attempt by middle-class property interests to use the rhetoric of environmentalism to protect and further their own amenity and landscape consumption values” (p. 20). While “[e]xurbia epitomizes an individualized, private, and exclusive living in an idealized nature” (p. 20), the development industry, for its part:

has […] used the Oak Ridges Moraine brand to market housing developments. […] This aesthetic is seen in the numerous subdivisions that are named after the very same ecosystems that they have replaced. […] Ravine lots, creek lots, or lots next to woods are marketed as a premium. Housing developments are portrayed as green communities that constitute privileged opportunities to live in harmony with nature.—Sandberg et al. (2013, p. 223)

The word that seems to summarise the process—gentrification—is used only at the very end of the book (see Sandberg et al., 2013, p. 241), but the authors make it clear that they understand very well the elitist character of such a process. Indeed, the area has become “the exclusive preserve of the wealthy” (p. 241). In fact, as they say, “[o]n the Oak Ridges Moraine, combined growth and nature conservation plans promote […] an exclusive landscape defined by environmental values that accommodate residents of financial means […]” (p. 232–233).

This is an example of what I call “gentrifying conservationism”, or conservation actions that, by their very design, tend to produce gentrification. Interestingly, as this example also shows, conservationism itself is under such circumstances more often than not very limited: “[t]he current dominant policies in Ontario to preserve nature and promote growth share a common nature aesthetic that is essentially used to protect both development and nature, but in the end the system serves to maintain exclusive residential and industrial property values while excluding other interests and compromising nature in inadvertent ways” (p. 233; emphasis added), in the sense that the conservation outcomes produced in these circumstances are often very limited or even absent, by virtue of new threats. Perhaps unsurprisingly, what seemed to be the primary goal was probably little more than a convenient excuse for real estate and capitalist interests.

Business interests can very much refine and expand the strategies used to achieve capital accumulation, and this sort of “conservationism” is one of them. As Sandberg et al. (2013) put it, Oak Ridge Moraine’s story is about “the pervasiveness and mutability of the prevailing growth paradigm and the way it is not superseded but embedded in new ways of thinking about—and even selling—nature on the Moraine” (p. 235). Within this framework, an interesting alliance emerged: “[w]e documented a sustained campaign that moved beyond place-based activism to form networked coalition of rural and urban interests, homeowners, and environmentalists who organized on a regional scale and drew upon a wider anti-sprawl and environmentalist network” (p. 235).

The reality that inspired me to suggest the expression “gentrifying conservationism” some time ago was in Rio de Janeiro, more specifically the tensions that have taken place in the buffer zone of the Tijuca National Park. In Rio’s case, it was a complicated alliance of groups from different movements—pro-environment, pro-growth, anti-poverty—that were different in detail from the Canadian situation studied by Sandberg et al., but with an essentially similar meaning.

In Rio de Janeiro, the pro-environment and at the same time clearly anti-popular alliance has been especially developed in last decade. Located right in the heart of the city, the slopes of the Tijuca massif influence the landscape of many neighborhoods of the city—ranging from the privileged areas of the South Zone to many favelas. Of enormous relevance is the fact that the Tijuca massif comprises the 39.5 square kilometers Tijuca National Park. Established in 1961, it is the most visited national park in Brazil. The strip of land that is the most densely populated portion of the buffer zone of the park is a perfect laboratory for watching the (geo)political instrumentalisation of the ecological discourse by agents directly or indirectly involved in the attempt to implement what could be termed a sort of non-murderous social cleansing.

A crusade has been carried out by the public prosecutor’s office (Ministério Público) for environmental and cultural heritage issues of the state of Rio de Janeiro. According to that office, the favelas located there are expanding rapidly and in aggregate form “a single spot comparable to Rocinha” (one of the largest favelas in Brazil and the largest one in Rio de Janeiro, whose population has been estimated at 200,000 inhabitants). Statements like this, as well as other comments made by public prosecutors, environmentalists, and others about the danger represented by the presence of informal settlements close to the park have been frequently published above all by Rio’s biggest newspaper, O Globo.

The corporate media has played a decisive role with regard to promoting an asymmetrical treatment of social classes by the state apparatus in Rio de Janeiro, and although the Ministério Público has been the main institutional agent of the current attempt to promote the total or partial removal of the favelas located in the Tijuca massif, it can be said that its role has not only been made public and highlighted but probably also stimulated by O Globo and other, mainstream media.

Fig. 1. “They don’t want us here”: favela residents are not supposed to enjoy such a view… The smaller photograph shows a part of the very small favela Vale Encantado, in Rio de Janeiro, and the other photograph was taken there, too, in 2015; see in the background the middle-class district of Barra da Tijuca. Photo: Marcelo Lopes de Souza

But the available data do not support the idea that the favelas of the Tijuca National Park’s buffer zone are expanding rapidly; according to reliable census data and even the municipal government’s own data, offered by the Pereira Passos Institute, this is far from being the case. Monitoring data based on satellite images from 1999-2013, carried out by Pereira Passos Institute, make clear that the spatial growth of favelas in the buffer zone ranged from nothing to very little (see Souza, 2016a, pp. 791-792). Ten years after it was proclaimed, in 2006, that the favelas around Tijuca were expanding rapidly, this statement can finally be declared false. Likewise, the contention that these mostly small favelas (see Figs. 1 and 2) are a threat to biodiversity can be declared contrary to fact. Moreover, while the Ministério Público and the corporate media continue their anti-favela crusade, residential encroachment of the buffer zone by the middle class is left undisturbed, even where it occurs close to a favela targeted for removal (see for instance Fig. 2). Clearly, the occupation of the same location by the middle class is not regarded by the state apparatus as an environmental threat. In fact, the Municipality of Rio de Janeiro has made it clear on more than one occasion how desirable would it be to increasingly attract financially well-endowed citizens to the area.

Fig. 2. The undesirable and the desirable ones: at the bottom of the photograph (yellow elipse), the small favela Vale Encantado; in the middle and on the right side, a recreational middle-class club and middle-class residential buildings. Photo: Google Earth, 2016

It must be explained that in Brazil, in contrast to mayors and governors, public prosecutors are not chosen through elections (as it is usually the case in the United States, for instance), but are instead civil servants who are chosen through a public tendering procedure. As a result, public prosecutors can be basically accountable only to their own conscience (although not few of them have also tried to attract media and public attention for several reasons), while a mayor or governor must take into account the feelings of potential voters directly and strongly. And favela dwellers are voters. Therefore, it is not difficult to see why in the Tijuca massif’s case the Ministério Público has recently been a more important actor than the City Hall itself as far as pressures on favelados are concerned. Curiously, the Ministério Público even pushed and prosecuted the former mayor Cesar Maia himself for (according to the prosecutor’s office) not doing enough to protect the environment from the threat represented by poor, informal settlements. Nonetheless, the fact is that the City Hall had tried to contain the expansion of favelas through highly controversial so-called “ecolimites” (fences or more usually walls surrounding the shanty-towns) since the beginning of the 2000s, allegedly for the purpose of protecting the remnants of the Atlantic Forest. The state government of Rio de Janeiro followed the same steps and its attempt to build a wall around Rocinha, Rio de Janeiro’s biggest favela, ended in what could be regarded as a media and public relations disaster for the then governor Sergio Cabral in 2009. Strong criticism came not only from Brazilian society but also from abroad, for instance the United Nations.

In a book chapter on New Delhi, Asher Ghertner used the expression “green evictions”—a happy choice of words to express a very unhappy situation. He points out the “metonymic association between slums and pollution”, what seems to justify for Indian courts “slum removal as a process of environmental improvement” (Ghertner, 2011:146, 147). If we expand the first remark a little bit—by means of including things such as environmental degradation and related ideas as part of the second term of that metonymic association—we can easily arrive at a description of Rio de Janeiro and many other, similar cases. In fact, “gentrifying conservationism” and “green evictions” (or “green displacement”, in more general terms) seem to be inextricably linked with each other, particularly (but by no means exclusively) in the Global South.

Factors such as the immediate cause or motivation, the role of specific organs of the state apparatus and of other agents (e.g. the corporate media and middle-class residents) and the way how affected poor people will react to threats of removal will obviously vary from case to case. However, one thing is certain: the spectre of “gentrifying conservationism” and “green evictions” will increasingly haunt segregated spaces and poor communities worldwide.

By way of conclusion I wish to raise a few questions, considering that ultimately the rulers (as well as their allies or funders: the media, business interests, and so on) usually try to convince us that there is a moral justification—namely to ensure the common good—for measures resulting in “gentrifying conservationism” and “green evictions”: Who defines, and on the basis of which parameters, in each particular circumstance, and in the context of specific power relations, what the “common good” is? How to justify morally the many situations in which asymmetries of treatment between rich and poor people can be observed? Where is the compelling evidence that there is a moral justification for sacrificing so often minorities in the name of the “common good”? In cases where, for reasons of safety of the affected persons themselves, a relocation of population is perhaps necessary or recommended, what has been done to adequately compensate for the material and even psychological sacrifices imposed on those who have to give up the places of residence to which they are accustomed? How can we assure that in such cases relocation takes place in a non-authoritarian way? Without persuasive answers to these questions, in the sense of consistency with strong social justice criteria, the “common good” type of explanation will be nothing but a poor excuse.

Marcelo Lopes de Souza
Rio de Janeiro

On The Nature of Cities


References

Ahlfeldt, G., et al. 2013. Game of Zones: The Economics of Conservation Areas. London: Spatial Economics Research Centres, London School of Economics/LSE (= SERC discussion paper 143).

Ghertner, D. A. 2011. “Green evictions: Environmental discourses of a slum-free Delhi” in Peet, R. et al. (eds.): Global Political Ecology. London and New York: Routledge.

Sandberg, L. A., et al. 2013. The Oak Ridges Moraine Battles: Development, Sprawl and Nature Conservation in the Toronto Region. Toronto: University of Toronto Press.

Souza, M. L. de 2016a. “Urban eco-geopolitics: Rio de Janeiro’s paradigmatic case and its global contexto”. City, 20(6), 765-785.

Souza, M. L. de 2016b. “Gentrification in Latin America: some notes on unity in diversity”. Urban Geography, 37(8), 1235-1244.

TNOC [The Nature of Cities]. 2014. Accessed November 9, 2015. https://www.thenatureofcities.com/2014/02/03/what-are-the-social-justice-implications-of-urban-ecology-and-how-can-we-make-sure-thatgreen-cities-are-not-synonymous-with-gentrified-orexclusive-cities/.

Black Cockatoo Rising: The Struggle to Save the Bushland in the City

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

Protecting remnant swathes of nature is not easy, and may often require concerted, vigorous community efforts. There are many threats: the most common of which seem to be highways and development, which are often backed by considerable financial resources and lots of momentum. So one takes notice when something unusual happens and a community effectively and doggedly organizes itself to protect something dear, and actually succeeds in doing so.

The power of urban nature is an important point of hope in this story. The protest campaign was a massive awareness raising exercise, an epiphany for many about the beauty and wildness close by, and the ability to engage in a process of standing up in defense something dear.
I became aware of one inspiring example of a community coming together to save a remnant piece of bush from colleague Peter Newman, at Curtin University, in Perth, Western Australia. There, over several years, a conservative state government and premier (Colin Barnett), sought to push through a highway expansion and new freight link connection to the Fremantle port. Ill-conceived and costly from the beginning, this project seemed unfortunate and unnecessary. And standing in the way, inconveniently for the Barnett administration, were remnant bushlands, remnant swaths of banksia hardwoods, and some very rare wetlands. The highway would have eliminated most of this land.

I had the glorious chance last month to visit and spend time in these remaining bushlands, and to interview and film some of the key players in this urban conservation drama. With Peter Newman and filmmaker Linda Blagg, and my daughter Carolena (whose photographic essay to follow below conveys some of the magic quality of this nature), we have together been making a documentary film that tells this story. It is a saga that takes place over several years. Partly battled in the courts, it is mostly a story of how a community rallied, that never gave up, involved thousands of residents, many of who put their personal safety at risk, many were arrested. Two of the most important voices were Kate Kelly who ran the group Save Beeliar Wetlands, and Kim Dravnieks, of Rethink the Link. It has been noted that the majority of the leaders of this campaign were women, and Kate and Kim were two of the most steadfast and passionate in this campaign.

Photo: Perth Now

We had the chance to see first-hand the majesty of these surviving bushlands when we interviewed Kate Kelly. She spoke of her experiences leading people through these spaces, giving tours and watching how the land affected them. She spoke of majesty of these trees and wetlands, that to her has become her church. She speaks of the many guided walks she has given and magical effects the wetlands and woodlands have on people. People “soften and they talk slowly and they engage more carefully in their relationships”. These spaces, in short, help to make us better citizens and people.

Photo: Michael Wilson.
Photo: Green Left Weekly.
Kate Kelly standing next to a 500-year old Jarrah tree tragically felled in clearance for Roe 8 Highway. Photo: WA Today.

The Perth region is a biodiversity “hotspot”, with remarkable variety of endemics, especially plants. Much of it is found even in these small remnants, from orchids to bandicoots and blue-tongue lizards, and of course the majesty of the trees—paperbarks and swamp banksias where we filmed Kate Kelly. And the bird and animal life here is wonderful. As I walk through the bush on one visit I see and hear rainbow lorikeets, red wattles, New Holland honeyeaters, Australian ravens (one of my favorite sounds). If you are lucky you will be treated to the raucous sounds of black cockatoos, the Carnaby’s is especially rare as a result of the gradual loss of these important habitats and served as a compelling image and mascot for the campaign.

In the end, through a long, multi-year community campaign the highway and freight link were beaten back, the remaining bush saved, and a new state administration in power. However, in the months running up to the election the premier accelerated land clearance, tragically resulting in the loss of some half of these ancient woodlands. The Western Australian state government’s response to what was a peaceful protest was vigorous, and some would say mean spirited, starting with the decision to accelerate bush clearance in the face of clear community voices to the otherwise. Police on horseback treated the protesters harshly, and many were arrested, raising unresolved questions about the legal and ethical extent of peaceful protest, and when those rights should ever be thwarted.

The campaign was a lesson-book in the many creative tools and strategies available for peaceful protest. Many of these strategies were remarkably creative. There were the supporters dressed up in black cockatoo costumes, and at many points humor became a powerful weapon of resistance. There was music, and musicians, often onsite (and even a CD of music written and recorded on behalf of the bushlands), and there was poetry written and recited.

There were many community forums and many guided walks through the bush, to allow people to see first-hand what was about to be lost. There were marches where protesters carried beautiful color photos of the bushlands. One campaigner used a drone to capture a birds-eye view of what was at risk, providing an unusually powerful vantage on the beauty and extent of these bushlands and the extent of deforestation about to take place.

Kim Dravnieks spoke of the philosophy of “non-violent direct action”. In so many ways, she says, people “stepped out of their comfort zones,” and did whatever was necessary to help. Hundreds would appear on site to protest, often alerted by text messages late the night before. One day there was a call to show up in the garb or your profession or job—doctors came with stethoscopes around their necks. Young people came and occupied trees for days.

Photo: Twitter/Jessica Strutt. 

Humor played a key role, something that Dravnieks says “really resonated with a lot of people”. There were the protesters dressed up in black cockatoo costumes, one who approached the premiere in a shopping center asking “which way to my offsets” (a reference to absurd idea that the state government could in fact “replace” or compensate for these irreplaceable lands). And the protesters in bikinis who cozying up the premiere on a beach cleverly displayed protest messages written down their arms, something the premiere did not notice but photographers did.

“This has been the whole campaign. People would just come up with ideas and do things.” One of the most creative was an hour-long “silent stand”. A thousand people showed up in downtown Perth to protest in silence. One person had the idea of small patches of blue fabric that would symbolize the remnant bushlands, and these became a common sight pinned on clothing. Even today many supporters continue to wear these small pieces of blue fabric, pinned to their shirts or coats, showing solidarity and meant to indicate the value of saving “remnant pieces” of bushland.

Dravnieks speaks about the longer legacy of protesting, and of a community that learned the virtues and values of collectively standing up for something strongly believed in. “It showed people that civil disobedience is today”, it’s not just something suffragettes had to engage in a hundred years ago. And she speaks of the sense of being able to do something, to stand up and oppose something profoundly wrong, and the pride she saw from taking a stand. “I watched children who were so very proud of their parents for the stand that they were taking.”

The power of nature, especially in a city, is an important point of hope in this story. The protest campaign was in the end a massive awareness raising exercise, an epiphany for many about the beauty and wildness close by, and the ability to engage in a process of standing up in defense something dear. It was a chance to cultivate a spirit of concern for a larger world, beyond short-term thinking, and beyond personal self-interest.

The clearance that occurred were moments of shared violence, as many watched bulldozers in minutes knock down trees hundreds of years old. Residents and protesters witnessed firsthand when Bandicoots and Frogmouth Owls and other animals were displaced or killed by the deforestation. Most often the pain and suffering of wild fauna is not experienced or seen. Professor Hugh Finn, of the Curtin Law School, who has also been involved in the Roe 8 campaign, has studied with others the magnitude of these impacts and refers to them as “the invisible harm,” in a recent article in Wildlife Research. He estimates (with Nahiid Stephens) that deforestation in Queensland and New South Wales, likely results in more than 50 million animals being killed each year (Finn and Stephens, 2017).

It remains to be seen what the long-term implication of the Beeliar campaign and victory will be. There is now an especially well-informed constituency, emboldened by this political victory, and perhaps a force for future conservation good. It will be interesting (and maybe a good research project) to monitor how the cultivating of this stronger civic environmentalism plays out and shapes conflicts and planning the future. And one wonders how the emotional connections with, and deep caring for nature might be harnessed on behalf of larger global threats of deforestation and habitat destruction. Could Save the Beeliar Wetlands become a force for stopping land clearance in Borneo or Sub-Saharan Africa, or perhaps even in other parts of Australia? There is little doubt in my own mind that cultivating awareness and practicing conservation activism can (and must) carry over to over places, though the precise mechanism and processes to allow this to happen are unclear.

There are some important post-campaign tasks, including formal transfer of these bushlands from ownership by the state roads department to its parks department. And there is major restoration and revegetation work to be done for those areas that had been cleared, much of which has already begun. Sadly, some off-road vehicle use has already trammeled newly sprouting vegetation, but in the longer run the prospect for regeneration is quite good.

There is also a lot of momentum around the idea of connecting these remnant bushlands into a larger ecological corridor—a concept being called “Wetlands to Waves,” as the corridor will extend from the Beeliar Wetlands site all the way to the coast. This is a promising initiative, though one wonders whether an even larger ecological concept could weave together parks and greenspaces of various kinds into a much larger “bushland green grid,” and one that might extend well into the Indian ocean, perhaps more fully encompassing marine protection and nature as well.

I found one the most powerful voices to be Noel Nannup, an Noongar elder. We interviewed him at a most hopeful site—Telegraph Hill, a park in Fremantle that has itself gone through regeneration, though it took 120 years from the time is was denuded. Nannup spoke of the aboriginal heritage and deep history of the bushland sites in jeopardy and how the government ignored this heritage (and structured the project in a way that allowed them to ignore or skirt the requirements of the Aboriginal Heritage Act). “They pushed us aside…treated us with contempt.” For the Noongar people, these sites were sacred; and continuously visited and occupied, likely for more than 60,000 years. “There’s a spiritual energy line, a flow through there that our people have followed for thousands of years. Our people are buried along it. A lot of people were born along it, and lived their complete lives traveling around in a 6-season cycle. Being born there every year you went back to visit your birth site.”

Despite the tragedy of half of these sacred lands succumbing to the bulldozer, Nannup remains optimistic. It was the spirit at work, through people, that saved the land. And he sees the key to the future as continuing what he calls this “social investment in the environment.” For the Noongar people this is a natural thing and the result of long-standing traditions that foster deep social and emotional investment in the natural world.

“So for us our social investment is that for millennia our people have buried placentas under certain trees,” Nannup says. “So our DNA is in our trees. So when we say ‘that tree is me and I am that tree,” we mean it.” That unity with environment, that sense of oneness is perhaps the best way to guard against its destruction. How we fully cultivate that in the non-aboriginal world, though, remains an open question.

The Perth story is a hopeful one for campaigners and organizations in other cities and countries where highway projects threatened nature. Perth shows it is possible to mount a compelling campaign to bring the community together around a different vision of the future, and to win elections and change direction. And there are other planning and policy dimensions as well.

From the violence of bushland clearance and pursuit of a flawed highway, is a renewed sense of the shared value these bushlands have in the lives of Western Australian, and the special role they play, indeed must play, in urban life. That is one of the hopeful messages. “Never Again,” is the title of a forthcoming book about the campaign, written by a group of professors (they called themselves “the Angry Academics”), edited by Peter Newman. There is the sense that the broader community will simply not allow a similar loss to take place in the future. Without land transfer in the case of the Roe 8 lands, and better, stronger environmental laws and land protection standards more generally, it’s not entirely clear that this collective-admonition will stand up; but I certainly hope it will.

While ultimately a hopeful story of how a community can successfully oppose a project like this, and can come to the defense of nature, there are many cautionary bits to this story. One is just how flimsy the legal protections were (and are) for such lands, and how pliable the existing environmental laws and regulations were. The highway was allowed to move forward in part as a result of the providing of compensatory “offsets” for the habitats that would be lost, yet almost all agreed these bushlands, and especially the wetlands, were simply irreplaceable.

I asked Nannup whether he saw any chance that the non-indigenous population of Western Australians might learn from and embrace some of the deep connections to nature and place held by the Noongar people. Indeed, the larger world would benefit. Nannup described the sense of “oneness” with the bush the Noongar’s have, something that would make the kind of destruction set in motion by the state government pretty unimaginable.

One Noongar practice that I’m especially fond of and believe might have some practical conservation effect is that adopting of one or more totem. As Nannup explained, this is deep tradition, and he explained the importance of the bronzewing pigeon, his own particular totem. As Nannup explained, when you were given a totem, you were expected to learn everything you could about that animal or plant. He went on to explain, in remarkable detail, how the bronzewing pigeon cools itself, and how it digs small holes that later become important receptacles for wattle tree seeds.

I have been thinking a lot about what ought to be my own totem. In my recent time in Perth there are many different plants or animals that fascinate me. Shortly after arriving we were visited by a pair of black cockatoos, who hung around to watch us. I’ve been enamored of black cockatoos, and had the pleasure of seeing flocks of them at several points on this recent visit. I don’t know enough, but will endeavor to learn more, and since my own deep home is Virginia, I will be selecting some local totems more appropriate to where I live.

Tim Beatley
(With a photo essay by Carolena Bastian-Beatley)
Charlottesville

On The Nature of Cities


Finn, Hugh and Nahiid Stephens, “The Invisible Harm: Land Clearing as an Issue of Animal Welfare,” Wildlife Research, January, 2017.

Patrick Geddes’ 19th Century “Pocket Park” Inspires Art Installation

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined

A review of “Palm House”, a commissioned project on view at the Edinburgh Art Festival until 27 August 2017.

In the late 19th century, Geddes proposed an interconnected network of small green spaces, acting as the ‘green lungs’ of Edinburgh’s cramped medieval-era Old Town. Many of these so-called ‘pocket parks’ continue to be used today.
The year is 1880; the place is Edinburgh, Scotland. Edinburgh’s Old Town is internationally known for its squalid conditions; its tenement slums plagued by poor sanitation and overcrowded housing. The medieval infrastructure has proven inadequate for the demands of the rapidly urbanizing population. Many of the city’s elite had relocated to the Georgian New Town in years before, leaving behind the city’s lesser fortunate residents in the Old Town. It is clear that improvements need to be made, but the city’s leaders are uncertain how to proceed.

Cue Patrick Geddes, a Scottish polymath who had recently taken on a lectureship in Zoology at Edinburgh University. During these last two decades of the 19th century, Geddes would address the challenge of revitalizing Edinburgh’s infamous slums. This would set the foundations for his most seminal works in city planning, from pocket parks to early bioregionalism, which had profound influence on our sense of ecology in urban planning, and on later thinkers such as Lewis Mumford.

Bobby Niven, ‘Palm House’ (2017). 2017 EAF Commission. Courtesy of Edinburgh Art Festival, 27 July to 27 August 2017

Rather than employing a drastic redevelopment scheme of razing the old buildings to make way for new, Geddes proposed small changes for the Old Town through a “Conservative Surgery” method. Geddes believed that this method of redevelopment would allow the Old Town to retain its character, while also improving living conditions for the area’s residents. One of the key strategies in enhancing liveability for the city’s poor was the introduction of public green spaces within the dense fabric of tenement buildings. The lack of space in the over-crowded Old Town did not hinder Geddes’ vision; the planner proposed an interconnected network of small green spaces, as this configuration would be more accessible and feasible. Acting as the “green lungs” of the city, many of these so-called “pocket parks” continue to be used today.

Johnston Terrace Wildlife Reserve is just one of Geddes’ former gardens; run by the Scottish Wildlife Trust, it is also Scotland’s smallest wildlife reserve. Nestled into a hillside in the shadows of an unyielding castle, the garden is easy to miss. The space is accessed from the steps of Castle Wynd, a busy pedestrian corridor for the millions of tourists that visit Edinburgh each year. A raised boardwalk path takes visitors through a meadow drift; paths converge at a cleared gathering space towards the rear of the site.

Bobby Niven, “Palm House” (2017). 2017 EAF Commission. Courtesy of Edinburgh Art Festival, 27 July to 27 August 2017

While the gate to the garden remains locked to the general public for most of the year, Johnston Terrace Wildlife Reserve can be visited this August during the 2017 Edinburgh Art Festival. The festival, which runs from 27 July- 27 August, features a collection of four new commissions which celebrate the centenary of Patrick Geddes’ forward-thinking work, The Making of the Future: A Manifesto and Project (1917). One of these commissions, artist Bobby Niven’s “Palm House”, resides within and responds to the context of the Johnston Terrace Wildlife Reserve.

“Palm House” is envisioned as a social sculpture, a space for the exchange of ideas and community gathering. The structure provides shelter from the elements during Edinburgh’s particularly wet month of August, but the work does not turn its back on the open-air context in which it is sited. Constructed with green oak timber framing and transparent acrylic siding, the small hut closely resembles a glasshouse, a clear artifact from the artist’s research into the glasshouses used to cultivate palm trees at the Royal Botanic Gardens in Edinburgh. The line between indoor and outdoor is blurred, due not only to the construction materials utilized but also the abundant collection of potted plants within the shelter. Sculptural elements of the structure include wooden hand-shaped supports, a recurring symbol throughout Niven’s work. The double meaning of the work’s title, “Palm House”, references both the concept of the structure as a glasshouse (i.e. a palm tree house), but also the symbolic motif of these hands.

Bobby Niven, ‘Palm House’ (2017). 2017 EAF Commission. Photo: Allison Palenske

“Palm House” will also accommodate a series of four week-long artist residences across the month of August. The artists selected for the residencies (Neil Bickerton, Alison Scott, Daisy Lafarge, and Deirdre Nelson) will have the opportunity to produce works in this ‘off-grid’ urban oasis. The intention of holding these residencies in-situ is to gather a collection of ideas and responses to the histories and environment of the site, with the structure acting as a space for growth of both plants and creative practice.

As a project, “Palm House” responds to the ecological and seasonal nature of its surrounding; the work will always be changing and evolving through the month of August, creating its own ecology of collaborative production and exchange of ideas. Within the first few days of opening, the project has already proven to be a popular refuge amid busy festival hubs and corridors. Many visitors happen across the site by chance, and the experience of both the garden and the work has been a pleasant surprise for many.

Whereas other exhibitions in the festival—and in the field of contemporary art in general—may make the visitor feel like there is an underlying message or a concept to “get” in order to truly understand the work, this project simply allows viewers to enjoy being within a space and place, and to allow their own experience to take precedence over any preconceived notion of what the work “is”.

In his pamphlet, The Making of the Future, Geddes envisioned a re-construction, re-education, and renewal of society. He advocated for a post-war society where civic life is improved in a combined interdisciplinary effort of “Art and Industry, Education and Health, Morals and Business”. These ideas of interdisciplinarity and civic participation are activated in Niven’s work, which appeals to visitors of many backgrounds and perspectives. In the instance of Palm House, the combined experience of art and nature has the powerful effect of making people stop, observe, immerse themselves, and react to something previously unnoticed.

More broadly, employing Geddes’ vision from The Making of the Future: A Manifesto and Project as a curatorial concept has bold implications. In the age of international art fairs and biennials acting as a reigning force in the contemporary art world, selecting this theme for the 2017 Edinburgh Art Festival commissions suggests an antithesis to the loud and commercialized aspects of such events. This theme, and the commissioned works that it has evoked, insinuate a worldview that leans towards anti-capitalism rather than profit, and a democratization of art rather than self-referential exclusivity.

The theme also provokes a sense of localization above globalization during a festival season that could easily be criticized for being insensitive to its context and the heritage of Edinburgh. In the month of August, multiple festivals put on thousands of shows, exhibitions, and events in Edinburgh; an ephemeral whirlwind of performers and nearly 3 million visitors from across the world gather in the UNESCO-designated World Heritage Site. The Edinburgh Art Festival’s commission concept is specific, celebrating context and locality in a way not frequently seen during Edinburgh’s festivals.

Though the choice of theme for the Edinburgh Art Festival may not seem like an immediate association for a series of contemporary art works, the fruition of projects like Palm House prove that the theories championed by Geddes maintain their cultural relevance today.

In a world of mass media and internet virality it can be quite easy to think globally.

But it takes intention and subtle confidence to act locally.

Allison Palenske
Edinburgh

On The Nature of Cities

Shutting Down Poletti—An Urban Environmental Victory

Art, Science, Action: Green Cities Re-imagined
To truly learn the lessons from shutting down the Poletti power plant, we must confront environmental injustice and replace isolation with community. Among other things, that means electing politicians committed to social justice.
In 2013, the New York Power Authority razed the Charles Poletti Power Plant in Astoria, NY. In doing so, Power Authority removed what local elected official Michael Gianaris had characterized as a “symbol[] of pollution that haunted [the] neighborhood”. The characterization was an apt one. The Poletti Plant had for years been the single-biggest polluter in New York City. In 2000, the Poletti plant alone spewed 263,376 tons of pollutants into the airshed—more air emissions than the rest of the city combined. Not surprisingly, the surrounding community was part of New York City’s asthma alley: a band of elevated asthma rates that stretches from the Bronx through Queens. The plant posed a particular risk to the thousands of children in Astoria’s three major public housing projects, including Astoria Houses—largest public housing project in the United States. One local leader claimed that, as a result of the pollution, birds would not nest in Astoria. The story of shutting down the Poletti is a tale worth telling, and a potential template for successful environmental justice advocacy.

Beginning operation in 1977, the 885 megawatt facility was named for New York’s 46th Governor Charles Poletti. If there is anything in a name, the Poletti facility had an auspicious one. Charles Poletti graduated from Harvard Law School, served on the New York State Supreme Court, and been elected New York’s Lieutenant Governor alongside Governor Herbert H. Lehman. Poletti had the distinction of being the first Italian-American governor in the United States (albeit serving only 29 days to complete Lehman’s term after Lehman joined the World War II effort). During World War II, Lieutenant-Colonel Poletti was in charge of restoring essential public services in occupied Italy. After the war, New York Governor Averell Harrimann appointed Poletti to the New York State Power Authority. So, when the Astoria generating facility was named in his honor, it had a lot to live up to. Sadly, the facility was far less impressive than its namesake. Indeed, by the time Charles Poletti died in 2002, New York Power Authority was mired in litigation with angry neighbors bent on shutting the dirty, polluting facility.

The Poletti plant served the state and local government; generating electricity to run schools, public hospitals, government offices and New York’s extensive subway and electric commuter train system. However, the toll it imposed on the surrounding community of Astoria was immense. The Poletti Plant ranked among the dirtiest plants in the United States.

Source: http://scorecard.goodguide.com/env-releases/cap/ranking.tcl?facility_id=36081-PANY
Source: http://scorecard.goodguide.com/env-releases/facility-trend-detail.tcl?tri_id=11105NWYRK31032&category=total_prw

In 2002, the year NYPA agreed to shutter the facility, the Poletti emitted more than 78,000 pounds of sulfuric acid, and that was a 78% decrease from 1998 when the plant emitted more than 358,000 pounds of pollutants.

That year, the Poletti also released 38 tons of small particulates (PM2.5), 44 tons of larger particulates (PM10) 1311 tons of sufur dioxide, 78 tons of volatile organic compounds, and over 2000 tons of nitrous oxides.

Despite this immense pollution load, New York Power Authority proposed to add a new 500 MW facility alongside the Poletti plant. Astoria was already home to 60% of New York City’s generating capacity and the local community objected to an additional polluting facility in their neighborhood. Their legal strategy was innovative, involving a coalition between Natural Resouces Defense Council, a national environmental group, New York Public Interest Research Group, a New York environmental group, and a community NGO called the Coalition Helping Organize a Kleaner Environment (CHOKE). Joining with local politicians, and public housing leaders, the coalition intervened in the administrative permitting process and challenged the issuance of a “certificate of environmental compatibility and public need”—a legal prerequisite for the new facility. The coalition argued that the community was already overburdened, and that the additional particulate pollution from the new, albeit cleaner facility would jeopardize public health and environmental safety.

While that proceeding was ongoing, another environmental justice group was attacking New York Power Authority from a different angle. In 2001, the Power Authority announced plans to install eleven additional natural gas turbine units around New York City. This plan was nominally in response to the rolling blackouts that California had suffered that summer (which were later revealed to have been caused by Enron’s market manipulations, not an actual shortage of generating capacity). Each of the proposed new units could generate 44 MW of power, and the majority of the units were to be placed in pairs at multiple sites around New York City. Thus, the paired units could together generate 88MW of power. Under New York Law at the time, any facility capable of generating 80 MW or more was deemed a “major generating facility”, a label that triggered a host of public hearings and certification requirements (called an Article X application). However, the Power Authority obtained an exception by promising that each pair would be configured to generate only 79.9 MW of electricity—just below the 80 MW threshold.

The Power Authority then concluded that there would be no negative environmental impacts from this project, and that the cumulative impacts of the proposed eleven turbines would be insignificant.

UPROSE, an environmental justice group, sued, alleging that NYPA failed to adequately consider the environmental impacts of the plan. Although UPROSE lost at the trial level, the appellate court overturned the decision, and found that there were potential environmental impacts sufficient to require an environmental impact statement. In particular, the court required NYPA to assess the impacts from PM2.5—small particulate pollution that can cause or worsen respiratory and cardiovascular disease.

The anti-Poletti coalition used the UPROSE decision to its advantage, persuading regulators to order a hearing on particulate matter associated with the Astoria facility. This administrative ruling gave the coalition leverage that they used to strike a deal. In exchange for a withdrawal of coalition objections to the new 50 MW plant, the Power Authority committed to a six to eight year timetable for shutting down the dirty Poletti Plant, converting to the cleanest fuel available, investing in the community, and reducing the Poletti’s operation during the interim. So, the dirtiest plant in New York City was replaced with a facility reputed to be “one of America’s cleanest”. Perhaps learning from poor Poletti’s tarnished name, the replacement facility was simply called Astoria I.

In the years since Poletti shut down, the air quality in Astoria has improved markedly. Particulate pollutants have plummeted.

Asthma hospitalizations are down well below the average for New York City.

American Lung Association. Source: http://www.stateoftheair.org/2015/states/new-york/queens.html?referrer=https://www.google.com/
Source: https://www1.nyc.gov/assets/doh/downloads/pdf/data/2015chp-qn01.pdf

A cleaner environment has taken a toll on the community in a different way. Gentrification is rife, with property values increasing 75% in the years since the Poletti Plant was shuttered. Long-time residents are beginning to find themselves priced out of the neighborhood they fought to improve.

The saga for shutting down Poletti served as inspiration for Bina’s Plant, Book 2 of the Environmental Justice Chronicles soon to be released by the Center for Urban Environmental Reform.

Cover from the forthcoming Environmental Justice Chronicles, by La Greca and Bratspies.

I wish I had a brick from the Poletti. I would display it in my office as both a celebration and a reminder. Environmental justice victories are rare enough that they need to be savored, but it is vital that the benefits of those victories redound to all citizens, and that those who achieve those victories are not pushed out of their neighborhoods.

So what lessons does shutting down the Poletti offer for other similar campaigns? First, collaboration is key—local groups must lead the way, but they need resources and support from state-wide and national groups. Second, it helps when local politicians are fully on board. With the campaign to shut Poletti, elected officials joined the lawsuits, and used the platform of their office to advocate for environmental protection.

That sounds so simple. Yet, too often, institutionalized racism is a barrier to achieving the kind of cooperation that was so successful in the Poletti campaign. De facto segregation and racialized voting can leave poor and minority communities isolated in their battle against pollution in their neighborhoods. Air quality in those communities can stagnate or even decrease, even as rest of the city improves. For example, even though New York City now has the cleanest air since monitoring began, asthma rates are still unacceptably high in parts of the Bronx and Manhattan, with black and Latino/a children hardest hit.

Child asthma in Harlem, compared the rest of New York. Source: https://www1.nyc.gov/assets/doh/downloads/pdf/data/2015chp-mn11.pdf
Child asthma in Mott Haven and Melrose, The Bronx, compared the rest of New York. Source: https://www1.nyc.gov/assets/doh/downloads/pdf/data/2015chp-mn11.pdf

We can and must do better. To truly learn the lessons from shutting down the Poletti, we must confront environmental injustice and replace isolation with community. Among other things, that means electing politicians committed to social justice. National environmental groups must also do their part to confront their past disengagement with issues environmental justice. Fortunately, this kind of rethinking is already starting to happen.

Rebecca Bratspies
New York

On The Nature of Cities