Inequality and Uncertainty: Current Challenges for Cities [1st ed. 2020] 978-981-32-9161-4, 978-981-32-9162-1

Table of contents :
Front Matter ....Pages i-xvi
Cities as the Strategic Terrain of Research on Contemporary Inequalities and Uncertainty (Marta Smagacz-Poziemska, M. Victoria Gómez, Patrícia Pereira, Laura Guarino, Sebastian Kurtenbach, Juan José Villalón)....Pages 1-20
Front Matter ....Pages 21-21
Social and Spatial Uncertainty and Inequality: The Refiguration of Spaces as Today’s Challenge for Cities (Martina Löw)....Pages 23-41
Cosmopolitanism vs Identity and Belonging? (M. Victoria Gómez)....Pages 43-61
Digital Natives and Living in the City of the Future: Contradictions and Ambivalences (Susanne Frank)....Pages 63-83
Front Matter ....Pages 85-85
“Fear, Disgust and Dignity”: The Securitisation of Everyday Life and the New Revanchism Against the Urban Subaltern in a Working-Class Area of Madrid (Begoña Aramayona)....Pages 87-104
Protest and Taste: Socio-Spatial Restructuring of Moda After Gezi Protests (Kaan Kubilay Aşar)....Pages 105-118
Urban Inequalities and Egalitarian Scenes: Relationality in Urban Place-Making and Community-Building and Paradox of Egalitarianism (Marta Klekotko)....Pages 119-138
Outcomes of Urban Requalification Under Neoliberalism: A Critical Appraisal of the SRU Model (Rosa Branco, Sónia Alves)....Pages 139-158
Front Matter ....Pages 159-159
Feeling Safe, Defining Crime and Urban Youth in Berlin’s Inner City: An Exploration of the Construction of ‘Unsafety’ and ‘Youth’ as Symbolic Violence (Talja Blokland, Vojin Šerbedžija)....Pages 161-183
Trust Thy Neighbour? Interpersonal Trust in Twelve Ethnically Diverse European Neighbourhoods (Rui F. Carvalho)....Pages 185-204
Refugees and Borders: Simmel’s Contributions on Space and Strangeness to Reflect on the Condition of Contemporary Refugees in Europe (Inês Vieira, João Pedro Nunes)....Pages 205-224
The Use of Factor Analysis in Urban Research: The Case of the Metropolitan Area of Bilbao (Iraide Fernández Aragón, Cristina Lavía Martínez)....Pages 225-249
Front Matter ....Pages 251-251
From “Chabolas” to Invisible Squats: A Reflection on the Residential Informality Evolution in Madrid (Noel A. Manzano Gómez, María Castrillo Romón)....Pages 253-272
Urban Scenes, Cultural Context Exposure and Contemporary Health Lifestyles: A Multilevel Analysis of Spanish Sub-municipal Areas (Ángel Ramón Zapata-Moya, Cristina Mateos-Mora, Clemente J. Navarro-Yáñez)....Pages 273-296
Front Matter ....Pages 297-297
Urban Climate Governance in the Amazon (Fronika de Wit)....Pages 299-317
Greening Urban Politics: Conflicts Over Tree Felling in Warsaw (Renata Putkowska-Smoter)....Pages 319-336

Citation preview

Inequality and Uncertainty Current Challenges for Cities Edited by Marta Smagacz-Poziemska M. Victoria Gómez · Patrícia Pereira Laura Guarino · Sebastian Kurtenbach Juan José Villalón

Inequality and Uncertainty

Marta Smagacz-Poziemska · M. Victoria Gómez · Patrícia Pereira · Laura Guarino · Sebastian Kurtenbach · Juan José Villalón Editors

Inequality and Uncertainty Current Challenges for Cities

Editors Marta Smagacz-Poziemska Institute of Sociology Jagiellonian University Kraków, Poland Patrícia Pereira NOVA School of Social Sciences and Humanities Interdisciplinary Center of Social Sciences Lisbon, Portugal Sebastian Kurtenbach Fachbereich Sozialwesen FH Münster Münster, Nordrhein-Westfalen, Germany

M. Victoria Gómez Universidad Carlos III de Madrid Madrid, Spain Laura Guarino University of Genoa Genoa, Italy Juan José Villalón Universidad Nacional de Educación a Distancia Madrid, Spain

ISBN 978-981-32-9161-4 ISBN 978-981-32-9162-1  (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1 © The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Singapore Pte Ltd. 2020 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations. Cover illustration: © Alex Linch shutterstock.com This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Singapore Pte Ltd. The registered company address is: 152 Beach Road, #21-01/04 Gateway East, Singapore 189721, Singapore

Preface

After the publication of Moving Cities—Contested Views On Urban Life, this is the second volume presented by the Research Network 37— Urban Sociology [RN37] of the European Sociological Association, following the celebration of a conference. This monograph originated at the conference “Inequalities and Uncertainty: Current Challenges for Cities” which took place in Madrid in June 2018. Over 150 urban researchers had the opportunity to hear and discuss inspiring key lectures by Jesús Leal and Suzanne Hall, and presentations based on both theoretical reflection and empirical research. We considered one more time that the findings should be presented to the public and in this way take part of a broader discussion on cities. Kraków, Poland Madrid, Spain Lisbon, Portugal Genoa, Italy Münster, Germany Madrid, Spain

Marta Smagacz-Poziemska M. Victoria Gómez Patrícia Pereira Laura Guarino Sebastian Kurtenbach Juan José Villalón v

Acknowledgements

We would hereby like to thank our colleagues that are and have been members of the Research Network 37—Urban Sociology [RN37] of the European Sociological Association for their support in previous and current initiatives, that, as we believe, enhance urban sociology and urban studies as well. Additionally, we wish to address a special acknowledgement to all those who participated in the III Midterm Conference of our Research Network “Inequalities and Uncertainty: Current Challenges for Cities”. We also thank the European Sociological Association for the overall support of our activities, the Dean of the Faculty of Political Science and Sociology and Vice-Rector for Research of the UNED— Universidad Nacional de Educación a Distancia (National Distance Education University) and the Dean of the Faculty of Social Sciences and Law and the Vice-Chancellorship of Scientific Policy of the Carlos III University. Warm thanks to all the colleagues and institutions for co-organising the Madrid conference, where the story of this book began.

vii

Contents

1

Cities as the Strategic Terrain of Research on Contemporary Inequalities and Uncertainty 1 Marta Smagacz-Poziemska, M. Victoria Gómez, Patrícia Pereira, Laura Guarino, Sebastian Kurtenbach and Juan José Villalón

Part I Urban Inequalities and Uncertainty as Conceptual Challenges 2

Social and Spatial Uncertainty and Inequality: The Refiguration of Spaces as Today’s Challenge for Cities Martina Löw

3

Cosmopolitanism vs Identity and Belonging? 43 M. Victoria Gómez

4

Digital Natives and Living in the City of the Future: Contradictions and Ambivalences 63 Susanne Frank

23

ix

x      Contents

Part II  Revisiting Social Change and Gentrification 5

“Fear, Disgust and Dignity”: The Securitisation of Everyday Life and the New Revanchism Against the Urban Subaltern in a Working-Class Area of Madrid 87 Begoña Aramayona

6

Protest and Taste: Socio-Spatial Restructuring of Moda After Gezi Protests 105 Kaan Kubilay Aşar

7

Urban Inequalities and Egalitarian Scenes: Relationality in Urban Place-Making and Community-Building and Paradox of Egalitarianism 119 Marta Klekotko

8

Outcomes of Urban Requalification Under Neoliberalism: A Critical Appraisal of the SRU Model 139 Rosa Branco and Sónia Alves

Part III  Urban Diversity and Boundaries 9

Feeling Safe, Defining Crime and Urban Youth in Berlin’s Inner City: An Exploration of the Construction of ‘Unsafety’ and ‘Youth’ as Symbolic Violence 161 Talja Blokland and Vojin Šerbedžija

10 Trust Thy Neighbour? Interpersonal Trust in Twelve Ethnically Diverse European Neighbourhoods 185 Rui F. Carvalho

Contents     xi

11 Refugees and Borders: Simmel’s Contributions on Space and Strangeness to Reflect on the Condition of Contemporary Refugees in Europe 205 Inês Vieira and João Pedro Nunes 12 The Use of Factor Analysis in Urban Research: The Case of the Metropolitan Area of Bilbao 225 Iraide Fernández Aragón and Cristina Lavía Martínez Part IV  Answers for Urban Inequalities 13 From “Chabolas” to Invisible Squats: A Reflection on the Residential Informality Evolution in Madrid 253 Noel A. Manzano Gómez and María Castrillo Romón 14 Urban Scenes, Cultural Context Exposure and Contemporary Health Lifestyles: A Multilevel Analysis of Spanish Sub-municipal Areas 273 Ángel Ramón Zapata-Moya, Cristina Mateos-Mora and Clemente J. Navarro-Yáñez Part V  Environmental Turn in Urban Politics 15 Urban Climate Governance in the Amazon 299 Fronika de Wit 16 Greening Urban Politics: Conflicts Over Tree Felling in Warsaw 319 Renata Putkowska-Smoter

List of Figures

Fig. 4.1

Fig. 8.1 Fig. 13.1 Fig. 13.2 Fig. 13.3 Fig. 14.1 Fig. 14.2 Map 12.1

The survey participants’ (N = 42) past, current, and desired future living environments (Source M-Projekt [2014], Group 1 [The members of this group, and authors of this graph, were Franziska Brinkmann, Anja Konschak, Johannes Pickert, Jonas Sonntag, Mona Spiza, and Fabian Stroh]) Structure of practical argumentation (Fairclough and Fairclough 2012: 45) Historical evolution Historical patterns (I). Public powers problems with informal housing Historical patterns (II). Popular strategies to deal with illegality Conditional effect of SES on the Healthy Practices indicator according to the unconventional cultural scene Conditional effect of SES on the Healthy Eating Index according to the unconventional cultural scene

73 148 256 268 269 286 286

Socio-residential map of the MAB (Source Authors) 240

Chart 12.1 Dimensions, aspects and variables 228 Chart 12.2 Description of resulting strata 238 xiii

List of Tables

Table 3.1 Table 3.2 Table 8.1 Table 10.1 Table 10.2 Table 10.3 Table 12.1 Table 12.2 Table 12.3 Table 12.4 Table 14.1 Table 14.2

Identification with the local community Feelings of global citizenship The formulation of goals, means-goals, and the actions which were chosen and are supported by the actors’ argumentation (claim for action) Descriptive statistics for the variables used in the logistic regression models Odds ratios from logistic regression models predicting trust in neighbours I: Reliability Odds ratios from logistic regression models predicting trust in neighbours II: Helpfulness Rotated component matrix (Varimax) Results of K Means analysis Population make-up of the urban areas of the MAB, 2015 Distribution of nationality groups by areas, 2015 (%) Direct influence of innovative cultural scenes on the adoption of healthy lifestyles Unconventional cultural scenes and conditional influence of SES on shaping healthy lifestyles

53 53 150 193 195 197 231 237 244 246 283 285

xv

xvi

List of Tables

Table 15.1 The Brazilian Amazon states and their capital cities 304 Table 15.2 Peruvian Amazon departments and their capital cities 305 Table 15.3 Regional and local policy documents qualitatively analysed 307

1 Cities as the Strategic Terrain of Research on Contemporary Inequalities and Uncertainty Marta Smagacz-Poziemska, M. Victoria Gómez, Patrícia Pereira, Laura Guarino, Sebastian Kurtenbach and Juan José Villalón

A decade has passed since the outset of the global financial crisis, which has changed the everyday lives of many people living in European cities, and their sense of stability and security. We could say it was bound to happen as the inevitable result of the processes rooted in the era of capitalism, technology and urbanisation. There were intellectual attempts to grasp the global processes and their impact on individual and social identities, institutions and futures just at the end of the twentieth century. While the concepts of reflexive modernisation developed in the 1990s by Anthony Giddens, Ulrich Beck and Scott Lash or liquid modernity by Zygmunt Bauman differed in many points, they all claimed the new social ontology of the M. Smagacz-Poziemska (B) Institute of Sociology, Jagiellonian University, Krakow, Poland e-mail: [email protected] M. V. Gómez University Carlos III, Madrid, Spain e-mail: [email protected] P. Pereira NOVA School of Social Sciences and Humanities, Interdisciplinary © The Author(s) 2020 M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al. (eds.), Inequality and Uncertainty, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1_1

1

2

M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al.

contemporary world. Robert Skidelsky (2009) distinguishes between epistemological uncertainty and ontological uncertainty. The first, according to the author, could be resolved over time and with more information and knowledge; we associate it, in conventional language, with what we do not know due to the lack of data and knowledge and we identify it with what we can reduce to calculable risk, hence its identification with the concept of “risk”. On the contrary, the ontological uncertainty is irreducible and cannot be eliminated. It does not admit reduction and affects the theories and how social scientists face a reality in which predictability and unpredictability are deeply interwoven (Skidelsky 2009: 110). For Zinn (2006: 282), uncertainty is “a basic experience of modernity” and he interprets uncertainty and risk as “systematically linked to each other because there are different ways beyond instrumental rationality how risk can be managed” (Zinn 2006: 275). Beck, theorising risk society just on the threshold of the twenty-first century, wrote there are “at least three different axes of conflict in world risk society. The first axis is that of ecological conflicts, which are by their very essence global. The second is global financial crises, which, in a first stage, can be individualised and nationalised. And the third, which suddenly broke upon us on September 11th, is the threat of global terror networks, which empower governments and states” (Beck 2002: 41). The turbulences currently observed in Europe Center of Social Sciences, Lisbon, Portugal e-mail: [email protected] L. Guarino University of Genoa, Genoa, Italy e-mail: [email protected] University of Aix-Marseille, Marseille, France S. Kurtenbach Münster University of Applied Sciences, Münster, Germany e-mail: [email protected] J. J. Villalón UNED, Madrid, Spain e-mail: [email protected]

1 Cities as the Strategic Terrain of Research …

3

and beyond allow us to think that profound and unfolding ideological differences co-create the last axis of a crisis. This relational and dynamic arrangement of factors has stimulated the transnational and transcontinental mobility of people, changing their personal life, the places they leave and the places where they arrive and where they remain. Thus, for many people “liquid modernity” is the normality now. Bauman associated xenophobic acts with such “liquidity” or fluidity: “Efforts to keep the ‘other’, the different, the strange and the foreign at a distance, the decision to preclude the need for communication, negotiation and mutual commitment, is not the only conceivable, but the expectable response to the existential uncertainty rooted in the new fragility or fluidity of social bonds” (Bauman 2013: 108). Flows of migrants and refugees have activated political debates on the inequalities that pushed people out of their homes and on the ones forming in the places they arrive at. However, inequality is a multidimensional and long-running problem, very present in urban settings. The reports published by the OECD documented rising inequalities in income and opportunities in the last decades, and also in traditionally egalitarian countries (OECD 2011). The title of the last OECD publication recalls the question of the middle class, which is essentially associated with cities. The report emphasises the status of the middle class as “under multiple pressures”. The statistical data show that the costs of living have increased faster than inflation and “house prices have been growing three times faster than household median income over the last two decades. This happened in the context of rising job insecurity in fast transforming labour markets. One-in-six current middle-income jobs face high risk of automation. More than one-in-five middle-income households spend more than they earn. Over-indebtedness is higher for middle income than for both low- and high- income households. As a result, today the middle class looks increasingly like a boat in rocky waters”, conclude the authors who highlight serious social, psychological and political consequences of unstable conditions (OECD 2019: 15–16). But what is crucial and motivates this book is that all those dimensions of the crisis remain abstract or even elusive when analysed in general terms, whereas all of them are localised and co-create everyday life practices in urban neighbourhoods and public spaces. Saskia Sassen concluded in our

4

M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al.

last book (Ferro et al. 2018) that “large cities around the world are the terrain where a multiplicity of globalisation processes assumes concrete, localised forms. These localised forms are, in good part, what globalisation is about. If we consider further that large cities also concentrate a growing share of disadvantaged populations (…) - then we can see that cities have become a strategic terrain for a whole series of conflicts and contradictions” (Sassen 2018: 27). Various urban movements and pop-up city forms could be interpreted as the bottom-up response and the path towards more inclusive and equal societies. There are also some “official” answers for the current situation in the strategies and acts assigned by the international organisations, such as the Agenda 2030 and the Sustainable Development Goals, the Urban Agenda for the EU, Paris agreement on climate and the Kuala Lumpur Declaration on cities 2030 adopted at the 9th World Urban Forum. It is worth mentioning that the UN-Habitat (2016: 180) also proposed five principles in strategic and policy thinking for the New Urban Agenda: (1) Ensuring that the new urbanisation model includes mechanism and procedures that protect and promote human rights and the rule of law; (2) Ensuring equitable urban development and inclusive growth; (3) Empowering civil society, expanding democratic participation and reinforce collaboration; (4) Promoting environmental sustainability; and (5) Promoting innovations that facilitate learning and sharing of knowledge. The common base of the documents above is a belief in the importance of local contexts, both in understanding the reality and in minimising negative social and environmental impact and consequences (since the idea of their elimination appears as purely utopian). Social theories currently developed emphasise the dynamic and relational nature of social phenomena. The contribution of urban sociology for social knowledge (often neglected in general theories) is the “spatial” and “local” puzzles that let us understand everyday life practices, strategies and social actors that transform and always need a “locus”. What happens in the local contexts, in urban neighbourhoods and districts? Why are (or are not) urban policies and institutions effective in times of crisis? How do people individually and collectively cope with contemporary urban challenges at the neighbourhood level and in public space? What is the role of gender, class, nationality, age, disability, income level and ethnicity as

1 Cities as the Strategic Terrain of Research …

5

factors of inequalities and uncertainty? And last but not least, how can the “spatial puzzle” shed new insight on a more profound understanding of the world? These are the questions that urban sociology can start answering through intense debates and accurate empirical research, as presented in this book. Here, we deepen interrogations discussed in Moving Cities—Contested Views on Urban Life (2018), but we also move on to different debates. Our previous book Contested Views concerned the issues of a new geography of centres and margins, boundary making, mechanisms of exclusion, but also of the processes of space appropriation, city making and rebuilding in time of crisis. In this book, we aim to gain a better grasp of the relational and dynamic nature of urban inequalities, their visible and invisible forms (or not shown in statistics). Thus, by using the elusive term of “uncertainty”, we would like to zoom in on particular aspects of urban inequalities that are difficult to measure, but are acutely sensed and experienced by people and, more and more often, perceived as unfair. Here, in recognition of inequalities as unjust and the disagreement with the status quo, lies a positive aspect of uncertainty, which can lead to the social wake-up call and an active citizenship (Taylor-Gooby and Zinn 2006).

Urban Inequalities and Uncertainty as Conceptual Challenges We start this discussion by focusing on the conceptual aspects of research and intellectual reflection on urban uncertainty and inequalities. How can epistemological perspectives of urban sociology impact our general understanding of inequalities, fear and tensions? In the second chapter of this book, “Social and Spatial Uncertainty and Inequality: The Re-figuration of Spaces as Today’s Challenge for Cities”, Martina Löw further develops her relational concept of space (2016), arguing that social tensions and conflicts could be interpreted as the result of uncertainty caused by the spatial refiguration observed since the 1960s. The earlier stage of modernity is characterised by the concept of space as the territory and the container which impacted political visions (such as nation-state or colonies) and also their urban realisations of homogenous

6

M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al.

areas and zones. Increasing technologisation, circulation of people, goods and practices questioned these homogeneous and normative social narratives which, in turn, deconstructed the homogenous vision of space-ascontainer. The spatial refiguration in late modernity means that “not only have people’s lives accelerated at an unprecedented scale (as findings have suggested for a long time), they also live in more polycontextural environments requiring the constitution of spaces on different scales, following different logics and contexts simultaneously”. This is why, for instance, Löw argues, classical dichotomies “private/public” do not cover a range of urban forms and orders—they are actually processual, relational, mediated and polycontextual. If we agree with Löw’s (2012: 304) idea that in an urbanised world, spatial boundedness is organised essentially through cities as entities of meaning, it means that this ontological transformation of a socio-spatial order makes room for urban sociological research. The concept proposed by Löw shifts our attention from classically understood neighbourhoods or public spaces into new emerging forms of space. Löw formulates essential questions for urban researchers: “who builds trust in which forms of space; which forms of space are constructed for which purpose; and how and when does space become an issue of concern or dispute?”. Other chapters in the book formulate some answers for them. Complementary to Löw’s proposition is the chapter by M. Victoria Gómez. She analyses the relationships between cosmopolitanism, identity and belonging, which are powerful concepts in current political debates and public discourses, stimulating xenophobic acts, scepticism, distrust in democratic institutions or even radical changes in transnational organisations, as evidenced by EU countries’ ambivalences regarding immigration. Through analysis of the history of the concepts and on the base of qualitative research in neighbourhoods in Madrid and Glasgow, Gomez not only dismisses a simplistic definition of cosmopolitanism as the opposition of place attachment or local identity but also shows its scalar and processual character. It is at the neighbourhood level that “rooted cosmopolitanism” can be observed, which is an active and reflexive combination of opening up to other cultures and the world, and at the same time the connection to place and neighbourhood loyalties. However, Gomez notices that “at the local level, problems such as the history of local communities, the existence of cultural conflicts and existing inequalities become important,

1 Cities as the Strategic Terrain of Research …

7

especially if these inequalities create borders between different cultural communities. (…) If inequality also has spatial expression, the problem becomes more important because of the possible creation of ghettos or segregation processes linked to people’s incomes and the prices of housing, which hinder interethnic relationship”. Cosmopolitanism practised in places of everyday interactions is often neglected by the elites as they treat it as “an abstract concept and experience of planetary communication in such a way that they have more in common with the elites of other places than with ordinary people with whom they cross paths with on a daily basis”. This, in turn, supports the use of the concept as a discursive tool in the ideological battles. This chapter convinces us that sociological research on cities and neighbourhoods not only stimulates the development of general concepts such as identity, belonging or globalisation but is also a necessary step towards inclusive and just policies. The paper “Digital Natives and Living in the City of the Future: Contradictions and Ambivalences” by Susanne Frank completes the part on Urban Inequalities and Uncertainty as Conceptual Challenges, and there are two reasons we decided to set it here. Firstly, because it is an original interpretation of the gaps and contradictions between the images of living and dwelling in the city of the future (shaped by the professional trend researchers) and the needs and desires expressed by inhabitants of this future city, especially by so-called digital natives (millennials, generations Y and Z), and secondly, because this paper stimulates critical thinking about the concepts and the way they are used in social policies. Frank presents the message from the futurologists, which is coherent with the vision of the world we know: “Housing and the household of the future are thus portrayed as a flexible, temporary, and decentralised network comprising private, semi-public and public spaces and places. A consequence is that the residential environment (the immediate and wider neighbourhood, the district) will gain major significance”. The future generations, according to these visions, will have less private and more shared, common space. “Rental, sharing, lending and trading options will save money, space and time and enhance urbanites’ mobility, independence and flexibility”—the city will be a perfect place to live in that way. But what does the survey tell us about the expectations of the millennials? The major part of them desires to become parents and live in (owned) suburban home out

8

M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al.

of the city. Their attitudes are the combination of traditional values (family, community, stability) and individualistic ethos. How can we explain the contradictions between the megatrends and needs of young generations? The author’s interpretation is that “some of the global megatrends on which the futurologists base their predictions are indeed compelling and impactful and, for this very reason, provoke in many a strong sense of unease and attendant desire for protection”. Frank associates this situation with “skyrocketing rents” in gentrifying urban neighbourhoods and the commercial offers of traditional suburban family homes, shedding light on the relational and structural character of urban and suburban living arrangements in Germany. No doubt, this paper provokes comparative studies in other countries.

Revisiting Social Change and Gentrification Part II of the book deals with gentrification as a specific form of uneven urban change and is currently one of the most addressed topics in urban sociology. Four chapters present case studies from Madrid, Istanbul, Berlin, Lisbon and Porto; cities that are very different in terms of their political, economic and socio-demographic situation. The authors use various theoretical and methodological approaches, but what we find common in their analysis is a reconstruction of subtle lines between urban regeneration, activism and gentrification. In the chapter presented by Begoña Aramayona, gentrification constitutes the framework within which the transformations of actual urban life are performed in a more securitarian sense, in the peripheral working-class neighbourhood of Puente de Vallecas in Madrid. The interesting concern of this chapter involves analysing, by means of a qualitative methodology, the relationship between different groups of inhabitants living in the same neighbourhood using the conceptual and behavioural categories of “fear, disgust and dignity” and how these categories “collapse together in different, and sometimes contradictory, narratives of (in)security”. In fact, the contrast between the white-Spanish-traditional middle-class population and subaltern urban actors (such as non-EU migrants, street vendors, drug-dealers, prostitutes) is essentially based on the misrepresentation of

1 Cities as the Strategic Terrain of Research …

9

the second group, and the legalistic propaganda shown by police and ultra-right political forces. The author traces an interesting historical line starting from the Franco dictatorship period where a kind of moral superiority has been assigned to homeowner families to the detriment of the less privileged people. The actual middle-class property owners of Puente de Vallecas are also undertaking some forms of political engagement and association that animate the urban scenario to cope with the (mis)perceived problem of insecurity caused mostly by drug dealers, linking this feeling to the traumatic experience of heroin consumption which spread during the 1980s and 1990s. No wonder the last securitarian policies are mostly addressed to non-Spanish people, stigmatised in the marginalised categories mentioned above. Aramayona ends up with the observation that this opposition of an “us vs them” is based essentially on a colonial and patriarchal discourse. The chapter thus opens a possible discussion and comparison to other European cities and contexts facing the increasing power of ultra-right parties and violent securitarian policies. The recent history of social movements in Turkey contextualises case study in the chapter “Protest and Taste: Socio-Spatial Restructuring of Moda” by Kaan Kubilay A¸sar. The revolt in Taksim Square in Istanbul in 2013 is a truly symbolic event in this history, but while the subsequent political changes in Turkey reached the international public opinion, little known is the fate of these urban movements from several years ago. A¸sar studies the changes of Moda, a part of Kadıköy, which was one of the most politically vibrant neighbourhoods during the occupation of Gezi. The research question he formulates is how this political mobilisation “triggered a socio-spatial segmentation through gentrification and the production of politically differentiated consumption places”. The fieldwork conducted in 2016 included participant observation and in-depth interviews of dissident shop owners who left Taksim and moved their businesses to Moda. The case study provides evidence of gentrifying consequences of bottom-up activism and shows that, in turn, this process of gentrification creates the segmentation of social classes along with consumption practices. Such segmentation establishes not only economic but also political barriers among inhabitants, by—as the author concludes—“constituting the infrastructure of neo-liberal market individualism, that is freedomof-choice oriented liberalism, against forming the political possibilities of

10

M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al.

‘living together’ in daily interactions”. This chapter enhances our knowledge of gentrification processes that we have achieved mainly from studies in western European and American cities. Gentrification is also in the crosshairs of Marta Klekotko’s chapter: “Urban Inequalities and Egalitarian Scenes: Relationality in Urban Place– Making and Community-Building and Paradox of Egalitarianism”. The chapter addresses the processes of social change and gentrification in neighbourhoods, but from an uncommon approach. Its objective is to unveil the great paradox of the struggle to stop gentrification in a context in which the steps in this direction are the result of a complex combination of interests in a precarious balance. The author articulates the chapter from the theory of the scene, a tool that she considers most useful when addressing community studies. In her words, “scenes are urban spaces in which practices of cultural consumption are given symbolic meaning and thus constitute spatial expressions of particular lifestyles, developed by individuals through these practices”. Klekotko describes in detail the three elements that, according to the theory, structure the scene: legitimacy, theatricality and authenticity. After the introduction to the theory, the chapter focuses on the characteristics of the egalitarian scene, one type of scene that tends to flourish in what the academic literature calls mixed neighbourhoods, where residents have diverse backgrounds: “immigrants, low-income and welfare-dependent families as well as young professionals and students”. One of those neighbourhoods is the Neukölln district in Berlin, which the author explores using qualitative methodology. Its vibrant mix of both gentrification and marginalisation processes provides a particularly suggestive framework for study. It is in this neighbourhood where Klekotko addresses the paradox of egalitarianism, an interesting approach that appeals to equality but requires inequality to maintain the coordinates and behaviours desired in the area: “The privileged and the unprivileged are interdependent in the creation of the egalitarian meaning of the space which leads to common interests and community action”. Undoubtedly this contribution will awaken discussion and new potential areas of analysis in the field of gentrification and neighbourhoods in transition. In the chapter “Outcomes of Urban Requalification Under Neoliberalism: A Critical Appraisal of the SRU Model”, Rosa Branco and Sónia

1 Cities as the Strategic Terrain of Research …

11

Alves consider how, in Portugal, the economic crisis provided “a legitimate alibi for the inscription of neoliberal narratives, grounded in the virtues of the market, in the field of housing and urban renewal and how discourses and arguments related to housing and urban renewal led to the creation of new legal frameworks and institutions with the power to deliver entrepreneurial and discretionary models of urban renewal beyond existing state bureaucracies”. Methodologically, this chapter constitutes a unique contribution for this volume: using Critical Discourse Analysis, the authors analyse documents related to the implementation of Urban Rehabilitation Societies in Lisbon and Porto and interviews with different political and technical actors involved. This type of analysis is useful to uncover the important political implications of language and confront it with issues of power. This is relevant not only to understand the ideological background of the production of narratives, but also to uncover the reasons for choices and directions taken in policymaking and the groups and interests they benefit. The research posits that the current phase of market-supportive neoliberalism in housing and urban rehabilitation—in cities like Lisbon and Porto with poor working-class residents, degraded buildings and increasing investment in tourism—has fed real estate speculation and gentrification, thus increasing the value of housing and rents and exposing urban populations to various forms of displacement. An interesting feature of the chapter is the two general recommendations for future policies. Firstly, Branco and Alves warn that housing and rehabilitation policies should focus on the eradication of poor housing rather than support real estate speculation and displacement. Secondly, they recommend the implementation of “inclusionary zoning” tools requiring the inclusion of affordable housing as a condition of planning approval for market developments.

Urban Diversity and Boundaries Part III of the book “Urban Diversity and Boundaries” discusses conceptual and empirical complexity of the relationships between uncertainty and social (or rather: socially produced) differences.

12

M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al.

It begins with a chapter by Talja Blokland and Vojin Šerbedžija with the title “Feeling Safe, Defining Crime and Urban Youth in Berlin’s Inner City: An Exploration of the Construction of ‘Unsafety’ and ‘Youth’ as Symbolic Violence”. This contribution draws on empirical data from a study of youth’s perceptions of their lives, their neighbourhoods and deviance in a deprived, gentrifying Berlin neighbourhood. The fieldwork combined participant observation, informal conversations and individual and group interviews. The interviews were conducted with 37 young, mostly male residents of Arabic, Turkish or South-East-European descent, but also with a senior police officer and a state’s child and family services coordinator. The chapter starts with a dense theoretical debate around feelings of safety in urban settings; safety concerns, understood as hegemonic discourses supporting the neoliberal project; and symbolic violence. In the first part of the chapter, through a detailed ethnographic account of a neighbourhood meeting, the authors analyse how middle-aged residents discursively construct the perpetrators of unsafety. These are normally pointed out as a group of young male residents with a migration background, mostly in Palestine, Lebanon and Turkey, who spend much time in the streets. In the second part, they capture the neighbourhood and the notions of crime and safety from the point of view of those young people in the street. The analysis of interviews describing the young men’s own experiences of the neighbourhood, their views on local safety and crime but also on how other residents treat them, allows the authors to argue that “the construction of urban youth, implicitly masculine and racialised, as homogeneous category of perpetrators of unsafety can be seen as a form of symbolic violence as defined by Bourdieu/Wacquant”. And, as such, this construction, that objectifies young men, defines them as a “neighbourhood problem” and disqualifies them as residents, is met to a certain degree with their own complicity. This chapter is particularly interesting because, as was the authors’ intention, it makes some of the specificities of the theoretical notion of symbolic violence empirically tangible In the next chapter, Rui F. Carvalho analyses interethnic contacts in twelve ethnically diverse neighbourhoods across Europe. Thus, he contributes to an ongoing debate to understand the emerging social dynamics in a diverse Europe. He picks up on the classical question of interethnic contact as a process of conflict or cooperation or more specific: of trust or

1 Cities as the Strategic Terrain of Research …

13

distrust but brought it together with a spatial perspective. The neighbourhoods he had a look at are located in four European cities (Bilbao, Spain; Lisbon, Portugal; Thessaloniki, Greece; and Vienna, Austria), with a different level of diversity and history of migration. In every neighbourhood, a survey (random sample) was conducted with 200 respondents, half of them were migrants, half of them not. Thus, he had 600 responses per city, coming from three neighbourhoods per city in four countries in total (n = 2400). The survey included only respondents from people over 25 years old who lived at least one year in the neighbourhood. The questions of the survey covered information such as the social background, a description of the household of the respondent, structure of the individual social network, but also aspects like values and perception of the neighbourhood and neighbours. The dependent variable for the used regression models was “interpersonal trust among neighbours”. Interestingly, the results do not show differences between migrants and natives. Both do trust their neighbourhood on the same level. Also, further findings, like that those who are affiliated to a religious group, and trust their neighbours more than others need to be highlighted. Overall, the contribution shows that cohabitation in diverse neighbourhoods, does not need to limit trust to each other and that urbanity could be a spatial framework to build up interpersonal trust among dissimilar people, not only concerning the origin. Furthermore, the author shows that the analysis of urban spaces is easily combinable with other fields of interest, like migration or general questions in sociology. A century after the death of Georg Simmel, Inês Vieira and João Pedro Silva Nunes pick up on his work about the stranger and use it to reflect the condition of contemporary refugees in Europe. Therefore, they bound together with an update theoretical discussion in the tradition of Simmel about migration and data about immigration from Ethiopia and Eritrea in Italy. On the anniversary of Simmel’s death, the RN37—Urban Sociology organised a panel at the midterm conference 2018 in Madrid. The contributions of the panel showed clearly that Simmel’s work has not lost its analytical depth, even for social dynamics he could not have had in mind when he wrote contributions like the Stranger or its work in conflict studies. He was indeed one of the fathers of sociology and Vieira and Silva Nunes do well, that they refer to him by analysing strangeness

14

M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al.

in contemporary Europe. The authors meet the challenge to renew the understanding of space and strangeness by referring to Simmel, but also to contemporary debates in migration studies. Therefore, they take the social fact of borders into account and claim consistently to differentiate between the social type of a stranger and the contemporary refugee due to the social construction of social boundaries. However, the article is also helpful in the context of the current political debate in Europe to understand the construction and function of the stranger due to the socalled migration crises. Also, Iraide Fernández and Cristina Lavía raise a topic of ongoing debate about immigration in the city, so-called arrival areas or port-ofentry neighbourhoods. This debate hands us back to the times of the first generation of the Chicago School of Sociology, most importantly Robert E. Park and Ernest W. Burgess. The observation was, that under the circumstances of a growing industrial city by international immigration, arriving migrants are concentrated in a specific kind of neighbourhoods, called the zone in transition. Often, those neighbourhoods provide a first home in a new country for those who are poor or do not have any orientation in the country. Since then, this type of neighbourhood is in the scope of urban sociology and the hypothesis is evident, that the vitality of a city depends on such kind of neighbourhood more than on other residential areas. In Europe, the concept of arrival areas or port-of-entry neighbourhoods rose within the last ten years due to increasing inner-European migration (Kurtenbach 2018) as well as immigration of refugees. However, the contribution of Iraide Fernández and Cristina Lavía is more methodological in nature, by using spatial information. They update the use of the classical technique of an ecological study by calculating a factoranalysis. By doing this, the authors show how a neighbourhood can be classified as an arrival area, which is helpful for evidence-based local policy, due to migration issues. The authors explore the social differentiation of the city of Bilbao, Spain. Altogether, the authors show that it is necessary to conduct empirical research on a theoretical guided way to secure knowledge even in a dynamic field as migration in urban spaces.

1 Cities as the Strategic Terrain of Research …

15

Answers for Urban Inequalities In the fourth part of this book, we have grouped two contributions relating to citizens’ and institutional answers to urban inequalities in two different Spanish contexts. The chapter presented by Noel Manzano and María Castrillo focuses on residential informality as a practical solution to urban uncertainty. In particular, the phenomenon studied is that one of squatting empty apartments and building, an action used both by political collective groups and individuals, acting outside the system of law and property. The authors trace a continuum of informal manifestations in urban context from the spread of working-class and gypsy slums (“chabolismo”/shanties) during the last century and the increasing squatting movement. Both phenomena manifest a particular disregard and inefficiency of public institutions towards social housing policies for low-income classes performed continuously in different moments. In fact, the authors combine a contemporary ethnography with archival research looking for the attempts displayed by local authorities to find a solution for social housing and dwellings. In the past, the squatting problem was considered and treated as marginal in relation to the phenomenon of slums. As the authors underline, unlike the phenomenon of “chabolismo”, whose spatial delimitation is relatively clear, occupations present substantial difficulties to be quantified and identified spatially. In addition, in many cases the squatting phenomenon differs from “chabolismo” because, from the 1980s on, it presents political claims that are linked to the strong inequalities displayed in urban contexts, due also to the high rent prices and land costs that made access to property and housing in general quite complicated. The real estate bubble caused by the crisis produced a huge stock of empty homes, concentrated in the hands of the financial sector. As the authors underline, residential informality requires some technical skills: in the impossibility to undertake self-building experiences, like “chabolas” (shanties), people are setting legal and technical learnings necessary to access homes, make them habitable and resist evictions. These skills often imply the presence of collective and solidarity actors in urban spaces who are able to cope in case of conflict with the institutional powers for the right to housing. The role of the activist group

16

M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al.

is positively presented to overcome difficult situations in the urban context of inequality and uncertainty. In “Urban Scenes, Cultural Context Exposure and Contemporary Health Lifestyles: A Multilevel Analysis of Spanish Sub-Municipal Areas”, Ángel Ramón Zapata-Moya, Cristina Mateos-Mora and Clemente J. Navarro-Yáñez aim to combine recent theories from health sociology, on the one hand, and urban sociology, on the other, to explore “contextual influences on the social distribution of healthy lifestyles” in urban settings. This chapter dialogues with Klekotko’s featured in the second part of the book. Both contributions incorporate the cultural scenes perspective into their analysis, dealing with lifestyle defining consumption practices and the symbolic meaning of urban spaces. In this case, the authors seek to fill a gap in the literature by focusing on the symbolic nature of place and its role in structuring health-related practices. The chapter discusses the results of a complex multi-level cross-sectional study which uses data from two waves of the Spanish National Health Survey (SNHS, 2006 and 2011), focusing on urban areas only. The data include indicators combining information of a set of health-related practices, a Healthy Eating Index and an indicator of innovative dimensions of cultural consumption opportunities in urban areas. The authors contend that structural life opportunities, shaped by social class and material life conditions, provide the context for each individual’s ability to make health-related choices. Moreover, they discuss the relevance of conceptualising places as context and of studying their interconnection with healthy lifestyles. Some literature shows that culturally innovative urban scenarios can promote economic development. However, and more importantly, the authors argue that culture also has the potential for “promoting social change and disseminating cultural practices among citizens and across urban areas” (Navarro and Clark 2012). This study’s results indicate that in innovative cultural contexts, people with lower socioeconomic status are more likely to adopt practices associated with healthy lifestyles. The chapter concludes with a policy recommendation: the design of urban policies must take the promotion of specific cultural scenarios into account, in order to anticipate their effects on urban inequalities and well-being.

1 Cities as the Strategic Terrain of Research …

17

Environmental Turn in Urban Politics The last part of the book reflects the environmental turn in current urban sociology. It means, firstly, the focus on the dynamic independences between nature and the city, but also, secondly, makes urban sociology more interdisciplinary, open for new approaches, methodologies and languages, coming both from social and natural sciences. The international debate on climate change is continuing accompanied by various local ecoactions and movements, which are, of course, much more the discussion about the importance and the aesthetics of plants and trees in an increasingly urbanising world. It is an issue of water, air and soil, human and non-human beings. Two chapters present case studies that are different in terms of scale and methodological approach, and both answer the call for scientific research considering “the importance of the local context which encompasses policies (decision-making and accountability of the state), administrative embeddedness (local level public administration and policy implementation), and social implication (active participation of civil society and public engagement)” (Kabisch et al. 2019). The environmental turn concerns—in a very specific manner—the question of uncertainty and inequalities of today and the future. The chapter “Urban Climate Governance in the Amazon” written by Fronika de Wit allows us to know better the scale and complexity of the deforestation problem. The starting point for the analysis is realising that the Amazon “shared by nine South American countries, sustains about 40% of the world’s remaining tropical rainforests, making it an essential provider of environmental services, including biodiversity conservation, carbon storage and the regulation of regional hydrological cycles”. The experts alert that a combination of global warming and local land-use in Amazonia might turn tropical forests into dry savannah, which, in turn, will impact on the ecosystem and human life on a global scale. The drivers of deforestation are related to the processes of urbanisation in Amazonian countries: expanding urban, energy and transport infrastructures, the development of the economy based on agricultural expansion and rural–urban migration. However, there are also political factors of deforestation, such as weak monitoring of the problem and the lack

18

M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al.

of institutional cooperation in forest governance. As the negative consequences could be reduced by restructuration of governance arrangements in Amazonia, Fronika de Wit analyses the urban climate governance in the Brazilian and Peruvian Amazon cities, their climate policy content and implications of the policies in terms of justice and equity. She presents findings from policy analysis for Rio Branco in Brazil and Pucallpa in Peru, concluding that “both case studies show how climate change is framed as a hazard and a risk, and not inside a vulnerability or resilience framework, which explains their lack of policy integration between climate policies and equity-related policies”. De Wit’s chapter demonstrates that wider global perspective, sensitive to environmental, socio-economic and political processes is also required in urban sociology developing in Europe. On a much more local and bounded scale, we find Renata PutkowskaSmoter’s chapter, “Greening the Urban Politics: The Conflicts Over Tree Felling in Warsaw”. As the title itself indicates, the author explores a number of conflicts triggered by tree felling in Warsaw in the years 2010–2017, using different qualitative tools. In general, these conflicts reveal, on the one hand, the residents’ determination to keep the city green and on the other, the investment pressure on green areas, particularly on the urban forests of suburban districts. What was the role of the city council in this context? In line with the usual position of public institutions, it aimed at reconciliation between private and public investment pressures which is why it often became an adversary of the opponents to tree felling itself, along with private landowners who planned new investments. This is the main story thread, but the article goes beyond that, in so far as the conflicts also “provide a critical reflection on dominant social values by empowering marginalised or discriminated social actors”. Interestingly, Putkowska-Smoter sees these conflicts in line with some other civil society’s struggles for public participation and repolitisation of issues that used to be assigned to the domain of private affairs, an idea formulated in the 1980s that reappears with force in the postulates of “new politics”. In this particular case, according to the author, the main problem was the omission of the citizens from the decision-making process. What was the response of the citizens? Strategies developed by the participants incorporated new actions that transcended established procedures such as the recreation of the local community around threatened green areas,

1 Cities as the Strategic Terrain of Research …

19

proposals for alternative space investment plans and the production of environmental knowledge. Regarding the latter, since opponents of tree felling felt extra environmental knowledge was needed, they searched bodies of expert knowledge which proved to be a source of argument against felling. All in all, conflicts on tree felling critically judge the role of the city’s governing structures and the distance between these structures and the inhabitants. Between political science and sociology of conflicts, both of them applied to the city, the chapter reflects, from a micro perspective, the growing contradictions between economic development (in this case real estate development) and the wishes and aspirations of citizens, particularly when these feel marginalised from the decision-making processes. On a bigger scale, it connects at the same time with the macro environmental problem of climate change and the irreversibility of a large part of the problems associated with it. We are delighted to offer a volume that gathers theoretical reflection, empirical evidences of a different order, scope and challenges around the phenomena that cities in Europe and beyond are currently facing. For us, as editors, it is a matter of great importance to co-create and support debate on urban processes in which the voices of young and experienced scholars resonate. We hope our readers find this volume not only informative and appealing but also inspiring for each one’s activities in the field of urban sociology and everyday urban life.

References Bauman, Z. (2013). Liquid Modernity. New York: Wiley. Beck, U. (2002). The Terrorist Threat: World Risk Society Revisited. Theory, Culture & Society, 19 (4), 39–55. Ferro, L., Smagacz-Poziemska, M., Gómez, M. V., Kurtenbach, S., Pereira, P., & Villalón, J. J. (Eds.). (2018). Moving Cities—Contested Views on Urban Life. Wiesbaden: Springer. Kabisch, S., Finnveden, G., Kratochvil, P., Sendi, R., Smagacz-Poziemska, M., Matos, R., et al. (2019). New Urban Transitions Towards Sustainability:

20

M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al.

Addressing SDG challenges (Research and Implementation Tasks and Topics from the Perspective of the Scientific Advisory Board (SAB) of the Joint Programming Initiative (JPI) Urban Europe). Sustainability, 11(8), 2242. Kurtenbach, S. (2018). Arrival Areas as Places of Integration: A Systematic View of Specific Neighborhoods with Regard to Migration from Romania and Bulgaria to Germany. In M. Smagacz-Poziemska, K. Frysztacki, & A. Bukowski (Eds.), Re-imagining the City: Municipality and Urbanity Today from a Sociological Perspective (pp. 265–284). Krakow: Jagiellonian University Press. Löw, M. (2012). The Intrinsic Logic of Cities: Towards a New Theory on Urbanism. Urban Research & Practice, 5 (3), 303–315. https://doi.org/10.1080/ 17535069.2012.727545. Löw, M., (2016). The Sociology of Space: Materiality, Social Structures, and Action. New York: Springer. Navarro, C. J., & Clark, T. N. (2012). Cultural Policy in European Cities. European Societies, 14 (5), 636–659. OECD. (2011). Divided We Stand: Why Inequality Keeps Rising. Paris: OECD Publishing. OECD. (2019). Under Pressure: The Squeezed Middle Class. Paris: OECD Publishing. https://doi.org/10.1787/689afed1-en. Sassen, S. (2018). The Global City: Strategic Site, New Frontier. In Moving Cities—Contested Views on Urban Life. Wiesbaden: Springer. Skidelsky, R. (2009). El regreso de Keynes. Barcelona: Crítica. Taylor-Gooby, P., & Zinn, J. O. (2006). The Current Significance of Risk. In Risk in Social Science (pp. 1–20). Oxford: Oxford University Press. UN-Habitat. (2016). Urbanization and Development: Emerging Futures (World Cities Report 2016). Nairobi: United Nations Human Settlements Programme. Zinn, J. O. (2006). Recent Developments in Sociology of Risk and Uncertainty. Historical Social Research/Historische Sozialforschung, 31(2), 275–286.

Part I Urban Inequalities and Uncertainty as Conceptual Challenges

2 Social and Spatial Uncertainty and Inequality: The Refiguration of Spaces as Today’s Challenge for Cities Martina Löw

The spatial turn in sociology not only followed a call to rethink spatial theory, it was also a reaction to social transformations taking place in the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s (Günzel 2017: 9ff.; Fuller and Löw 2017). In this paper I shall argue that since the 1960s we have witnessed a refiguration of social spaces, which is often experienced as uncertainty leading to conflicts and tensions in many societies. My argument is based on the assumption that two qualitative transition periods are historically important: first, the establishment of territoriality as a prevailing fundamental principle of space and structural feature of modernity, and, second, the conflictual processes of spatial refiguration characteristic of late modernity (Knoblauch and Löw 2017). While the formation of modernity’s basic spatial order is well researched, the ongoing refiguration of the spatial order remains a challenge for scientific research on transformation processes and urban policies alike. For a quick overview, I will describe forms and effects M. Löw (B) Technische Universität Berlin, Berlin, Germany e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2020 M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al. (eds.), Inequality and Uncertainty, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1_2

23

24

M. Löw

of spatial refigurations, starting with the spatial transformations at the beginning of modernity, followed by radical changes in the late modern era. I shall focus on the transformation of spatial structures and spatial knowledge in urban contexts, aiming to show that social uncertainty is more often than not a function of spatial uncertainty.

Modern Spaces The history of modernity not only commences with large-scale urbanisation processes, as Lefebvre (1970, 1973) has shown, but also by a shift to territoriality as the fundamental form of spatial organisation, as indepth research on the early modern period suggests. On the societal level, this shift was reflected in three novel spatial practices (Landwehr 2007; Gugerli and Speich 2002): extensive topographical measuring, statistical and cartographic registration, and the belief that territoriality can be produced by the (nation-)state (Jureit 2012: 22; Raffestin 1980; Osterhammel 2000; Balibar and Wallerstein 1991; Günzel and Nowak 2012), an idea developed in the Enlightenment period. Cartography evolved as the leading medium for representing space, shaping everyday notions of space as well as people’s spatial orientations and perceptions (Mignolo 2000; Shields 2013: 64). Hitherto multiple layered, often quite singular power structures and sovereign functions became homogenised and centralised within the new national territory (Elias 1944, original 1939). The ensuing transformation of imperial systems (Leonhard 2013) adapting multi-ethnic empires to the “model of the homogenising nation-state from 1860 onwards” (von Hirschhausen and Leonhard 2011: 402), and the widespread introduction of the (exclusionary) concept of national territories as a spatial model are indicative of modernity’s strong tendency for homogenising space (Harvey 1985). The territory as structuring principle not only dominated the political sphere, but soon impacted on urban contexts as well, resulting in the conception of homogenous areas such as playing grounds, pedestrian zones, historical centres and recreational areas. The principle also informed the popular idea that space could be described as “container” (Löw 2016). The container model of space (Einstein 1960: XIII)—already reflected in writings from antiquity (see Casey

2 Social and Spatial Uncertainty and Inequality …

25

1997: 50ff.; Shields 2013: 45f.)—was elaborated into the idea of “absolute space” in the seventeenth century by Newton (1988, original 1687: 44) and solidified in concepts such as colonial space, “greater” urban areas and lebensraum in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries (Jureit 2012). For a long time, the container as the generalised spatial concept was prevalent in many societies around the globe (Muchow and Muchow 1935; Piaget and Inhelder 1975, original 1947). Even scientific research and methodologies have not remained unaffected by the container model insofar as they always (for pragmatic reasons) predefine and select limited spatial segments for analysis, with the result that interrelations and interdependencies can only be determined for a limited section (Baur et al. 2014). The everyday concept of space as container and the territory as the dominant political entity encouraged countercurrents in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries that dialectically opposed these ideas. The propagation of non-Euclidean geometry systems in mathematics set off a process of relationalising space in the mid-nineteenth century, which prominently culminated in the theory of relativity at the beginning of the twentieth century. In the arts, Cubism and Expressionism, the Theatre of the Absurd and Dadaist literature articulated new, relational concepts and figures of space (Giedion 1941). The modern metropolis developed into the spatial counterpart of the national territory as heterogeneous, socially inclusive assemblage without clear-cut boundaries. The constitution of the nation-state territory and massive economic growth at the end of the nineteenth century/beginning of the twentieth century affected complex co-operations and interdependencies that gave rise to globalised networks. Sebastian Conrad (2010: 389) speaks of “regimes of territoriality” resulting in “changing relationships between the nation and state, between population and infrastructure, between territory and global order”. On a “psychogenetic” level (as Norbert Elias 1994, original 1939 defined it) the idea prevailed that we are surrounded by—usually bounded—space and found its “sociogenetic” reflection in the formation of territoriality as an organising principle in both politics and planning practices in the twentieth century. Inevitably, these developments gave rise to conflicts, inspired countermovements undermining the idea of “space as container”, and unleashed subversive potential, particularly where zones and territories developed into global platforms of circulation.

26

M. Löw

The Re-figuration of Space in Late Modernity The countermovements gained momentum and plausibility amid social transformations during the “long” 1960s (cf. Knoblauch and Löw 2017). These processes of social change have been extensively described in theories of the 1970s (cf. Lyotard 1979; Deleuze and Guattari 1988, original 1980), and are confirmed by current historical and sociological research. The historian Charles S. Maier, for instance, maintains that territorybuilding is the foremost characteristic of the twentieth century, “namely the emergence, ascendancy, and subsequent crisis of what is best labelled territoriality” (Maier 2000: 807). The tipping point where the focus on bounded territories and related identity politics shifted to more heterogeneous spatial forms was, according to him, around the year 1970. From a sociological point of view, radical media transformations in the late twentieth century ushering in the “information age” and the emergence of “communication power” were prominently investigated by Manuel Castells (1996, 2009). He claims that the formation of a “space of flows” in the 1980s was a key factor leading to dramatic changes in communication structures and an unprecedented increase in complexity for social relationships. On the political level, the Vietnam War was the frame of reference representing the symbolic centre of the time also known as “1968”, the year in which totalitarian patterns of action and behaviour, linear narratives and homogenising large-scale formats (like containers, or master plans) were beginning to lose their legitimacy. In the social movements of the time, new spatial figurations were taking root as, for instance, the peace movement declared front yards to be “nuclear-free zones”, thus combining global threats and local actions in unusual ways (Schregel 2011). Feminism, gay and lesbian movements radically deconstructed notions of homogeneity, uniformity and normativity—including figures of “identity embedded in the discourse—which in turn corrupted the space-as-container model with its inherent claim to internal homogeneity and external difference” (Mol and Law 1994). The 1970s also saw modern urban planning in deep crisis over debates on how much plurality and particularity was desirable and needed for urban spaces to be perceived or experienced as attractive spots (Mitscherlich 1965).

2 Social and Spatial Uncertainty and Inequality …

27

Generally, a worldwide increase in networking and exchange practices summed up under the term “globalisation” since the 1970s is asserted and analysed under the heading “transnationalisation” for country-specific patterns of contact networks and exchange, or spatial concentrations of communication (running counter to the idea of steady flows) (see Mau 2007; Cattacin and Domenig 2014). Several studies focus on the link between globalisation (as a worldwide intensification of ties and transactions connecting localities) and “glocalisation”, a concept emphasising the still important role of localities today (Robertson 1998). Findings also indicate a drifting apart of “flows” and the emergence of a plethora of scapes, i.e. globalised, deterritorialised areas following their own logics. Appadurai (1996) points out that circulating information, knowledge, images and interpretations yields various types of scapes by decoupling culture from place, e.g. ethnoscapes, technoscapes, financescapes, mediascapes or ideoscapes that challenge the logics of territoriality. Other researchers point to the fact that the intensification of transnational ties in combination with extensive migratory movements constitutes new social spatialisations (Faist 2000; Faist and Ette 2007) consisting of rather small groups and communities and circulations between them. New media help to maintain communication, transfer money, and allow political participation in the source country in systematic ways inconceivable in the first half of the twentieth century. New transnational practices of constant and continuing communication across several geographical places have developed according to Pries (2008; see also Schwenken and Ruß-Sattar 2014). Parallel to the circulation of goods, technologies and materials, there is a sharp rise in human mobility caused by migratory movements and professional or private travelling (Augé 1992; Urry 2007; Pott 2011), a phenomenon described as “translocal subjectivity” (Conradson and McKay 2007) or “translocal assemblage” (McFarlane 2011) in analogy to the concept of the transnational. There are ever-growing numbers of trans- and multinational corporations (Lash and Urry 1994; Barry 2006), international interactions and networked production chains (Bathelt et al. 2004), while at the same time locally specific logics, concentrations and historically developed constellations of local institutions, (economic) practices and infrastructures are strengthened. Lüthi et al. argue that the activities of

28

M. Löw

companies can no longer be captured in terms of “spatially nested hierarchies” (Lüthi et al. 2013: 284f.), they must, instead, be understood as overlapping, trans-scalar networks forming the organisational principle of enterprises, albeit on the basis of territorial concentrations (ibid.: 291). The transition to digital communication technologies in the 1990s has further increased the multiplication of social spaces. If the distinction between immediate and mediated contexts of communication used to be unproblematic in the past, most spaces are now constituted and multiple connected through media networks (Knoblauch 2017).The dissemination of the personal computer and the development of electronic networks have added to the complexity of social relations and transformed the systematic coupling of space and action further. Since we are not dealing here with just a simple form of virtualisation, but rather with parallel worlds linked by shared experiences and actions, which in turn reconfigure the notions of presence and absence by systematically eroding ideas of homogeneity due to social transformations following 1968, I propose to use the term “refiguration” to capture these complexities.

Refiguration as Useful Concept for Analysing Uncertainties Hubert Knoblauch takes the view that present-day societies form according to two conflicting “logics” simultaneously: “There is, first, the ‘logic’ of modernity, which, as a large-scale type of figuration, is characterised by the differentiation of institutionalised, specialised ‘systems’. The second ‘logic’ is the logic of communication societies, which refers to a very different figuration characterised by relationality and symbolised by the network model” (Knoblauch 2017: 383). In terms of space, these assumptions suggest that territorial spatial forms (such as nation-states, special zones, camps, etc.) nowadays co-exist, interact with, and develop alongside/over/beneath more fluid relational spatial forms like networks, layers, clouds, trajectorial spaces, and so on. The concept of refiguration also prevents us, according to Knoblauch, from merely contrasting or juxtaposing different spatial orders, and highlights the fact that “we are not concerned with new ‘eras’, nor with period boundaries or epochal thresholds” (ibid.:

2 Social and Spatial Uncertainty and Inequality …

29

391, see also Knoblauch and Löw 2017). The interplay of principles of translocality, network structures and mediated communication, and principles of centralisation which are conflicting, overlapping, interacting or informing each other, is a major feature of late-modern societies. Take special economic zones—areas within the borders of a nation-state ruled by their own laws—as an example: in 1960, only five special economic zones existed worldwide, today there are 5000 and counting (Bach 2011). Creating special economic zones produces new territorial spaces and platforms designed to accelerate the global circulation of labour, goods and money. At the same time, however, the national territory fabric literally gets frayed from within, because the basic principle “one law for all” is abandoned. The concept of refiguration allows, first, for a better description of these and other processes culminating in qualitative turning points since the 1960s, which seem to have no clear beginning and end. Secondly, the concept highlights tensions and contradictions between different “logics” and spatial structures. While the principle of territoriality is not abandoned with new boundaries and borders developing around the world (Löw and Weidenhaus 2017), we nevertheless observe that hierarchies, centralisation and closure overlap and coincide with networked communities, collapsing hierarchies and porous borders. The concept of refiguration can capture these co-occurences and simultaneities, and our empirical task is to assess whether processes are harmonious or conflict-ridden (by spelling out effects and impacts in each individual case). Knoblauch stresses that refiguration processes are not a phenomenon of western modernity, but “obviously pertain to Indian, Chinese, other Asian, South-American and African ‘multiple modernities’ as well” (Knoblauch 2017: 196), due to the fact that today’s societies are so closely interwoven (Randeria 2000). The spatial refiguration has a number of important implications: homogenising and heterogenising processes overlap and interact; locations and action situations connect and disconnect in novel ways; centres (particularly in cities) are formed by the diaspora (see Judith Butler’s study on Israel and Israeli cities [2012]); networks tend to reinforce layering (Foucault 1991); the “logic” of territories is derived from relations, rather than localities (Löw and Weidenhaus 2017); the Here is defined by the Elsewhere, and

30

M. Löw

so forth. We are living in close interdependencies and mutual interrelationships, and that implies the constitution of space takes place across different scales and ranges at once, interfering with traditional field logics. Norbert Elias (1994, original 1939, 1969) considered the modern nation-state as “the figuration of figurations”, a centralising order based on secure territorial structures and the organisational structure of mass media with their strong tendency to monopolisation. This “modern” order is nowadays complemented by another, more network-type order, and it seems safe to assume that the complex networks of translocal, polycontextural and mediatised relations are gradually overwriting the territorial space (more detailed in Knoblauch and Löw 2017). Emphasising the complementary dynamics of societal structures (sociogenesis) and personality structures (psychogenesis), Elias also points to the fact that a society’s macro and micro levels are inextricably linked and interdependent. This seems all the more plausible given that changes in the constitution of space can equally affect knowledge, emotions (including feelings of insecurity) and interactions, as well as institutionalised patterns of the spatial order. There are indications that this is indeed the case: Research in the socialisation of children suggests that while spatial environments were perceived as fairly homogenous in the past (Muchow and Muchow 1935; Pfeil 1955), they are now increasingly experienced as isolated pockets of space (Zeiher and Zeiher 1994). Instead of one coherent unity, space seems an accumulation of multiple interconnected, networked spatial fragments. These shifts are sometimes associated with increasing acts of vandalism in public spaces and an affinity for extremist positions (Heitmeyer 1996), but also with the revitalisation of innercity areas, as today’s youth are out and about the city carrying mobile devices rather than sitting at home in front of the television. They navigate their way through the city using sat nav for orientation instead of traditional city maps, which might be in part the reason why children no longer acquire spatial knowledge through direct interaction with the built environment (cf. Münzer et al. 2006; Münzer 2012). The ability for spatial orientation without the help of digital navigation systems is on the decrease. At the same time, spatial information provided by the sat nav is frequently incorporated into contemporary notions and perceptions of space. The construction of space during child development seems, therefore, less homogenous today than the results of Martha

2 Social and Spatial Uncertainty and Inequality …

31

Muchow’s or Elisabeth Pfeil’s studies suggested in the 1930s and 1950s. Pfeil’s description of children’s spatial experiences in urban environments in the 1950s read: “The child experiences the world in concentric circles. The private sphere of the family builds the centre. It is from here that the child steps out into the world, it is here, where it can withdraw from the world at any time. The child is part of various communities, and each has their own separate spatial area. Encounters with others are tantamount to entering their social space. Hence, in order to make contact with other people the child must enter the spatial configurations of a society” (Pfeil 1955: 12). While referring to spatial configurations in the plural, Pfeil still does conceptualise these spaces as bounded and separate, although she points out that they are expanding with age. They are set against the family space as the most intimate, private place of retreat shielded from the public sphere. Today, however, childhood socialisation is often described as mediatised from an early age on including “new spatial experiences and relationships” as fundamental components of a child’s development (Tillmann and Hugger 2014: 31) that reach far beyond the family. The spatial complexity increases once they enter school. More and more schools have their schoolyards monitored by CCTV (see, for example, information provided by the Senate of the Free and Hanseatic City of Hamburg 2017). During break-time, communication takes place on a variety of levels: on a territorial (often conflictual) level children and teenagers communicate with and distinguish themselves from other groups in the playground; on a second level they communicate in relation to an external control room from which their behaviour is being monitored, on a third level they communicate with friends and family outside school, sometimes in foreign countries. The schoolyard is thus the communicative hub in an often unfamiliar urban surrounding, as they travel to school from distant neighbourhoods and are only familiar with the trajectorial paths and routes of the public transport system. In the schoolyard, the child is thus located in many places at once. In any given action situation, he or she constitutes space in quite complex ways as a multitude of spaces. One could even speak of an imperative (not only for children) to constitute a plurality of spaces of various ranges in any situation. It should therefore

32

M. Löw

come as no surprise that these far-reaching changes in the spatial conditions of life on the sociogenetic as well as psychogenetic level inevitably involve substantial uncertainties.

Public Space in City Contexts The relevance of spatial refiguration as a new perspective in urban sociology can be illustrated using the example of public urban spaces. The term “public space” makes sense only in relation to everyday environments, usually in urban contexts, i.e. cities. Space (as the specific positioning of human beings and social goods in a locality forming spatial arrangements, Löw 2016) may be classified as “public” if it relates to an urban (in rare cases, rural) arrangement. In this light, nation-states, supranational entities such as Europe, or special economic zones cannot be defined as “public” spaces. On the other hand, spaces are classified as “private” if they refer to housing in general, or particular places used for retreat. In urban sociology, the distinction between public and private spaces is a much-discussed example used to illustrate spatial transformations. Researchers observe “a shifting balance between the functions of public and private spaces” (Siebel 2004: 29), and “significant processes of change regarding publicly used spaces” (Herlyn 2004: 121). Klaus Selle asks: “What is going on in public spaces?” (2004: 131), and, overall, the situation seems unclear: “The owner of a mobile phone is, in principle, available at any time and place. This implies that the control options for family members, or superiors in work contexts, reach far beyond the boundaries of home or office right into the public sphere. (…) The internet allows us to be at once physically present in the family home, and mentally or emotionally situated in a chat room communicating with people from all over the world” (Siebel 2004: 30). These and similar findings based on other examples not only point to processes of spatial refiguration in recent decades, but they call for a rethink of sociological spatial theory and new instruments for systematic research. With the territory being the dominant spatial model, separating public from private space used to be easy: the market place here, the bedroom there. Private and “intimate” familial space, depicted in an idealised

2 Social and Spatial Uncertainty and Inequality …

33

form by Elisabeth Pfeil, was clearly distinct from the public spaces in the neighbourhood. With conflicting refigurations of space, particularly in late modernity’s multiply interconnected mediatised contexts. However, the separation between public and private space is obviously harder to establish. Is a phone conversation in a public location still private? Is my chat-room conversation already public? Walter Siebel’s remarks on shifts in the spatial balance bear a resemblance to our account of the complexity of action situations in today’s schoolyards. If it holds true that we refer to a place as “public’ if it involves specific forms of spacing, the attribution of qualities like public or private may be more adequately defined as specific spatial contexts. Whether a space is constituted as public depends, according to Talja Blokland (2017), on (limited/free) access conditions and the stylisation of the communicative actions involved. Consequently, spaces can be more or less public or private, depending on the degree of accessibility—attending a café requires money; if the door to the night bar of your choice has a bell, you may need to overcome the fear of entering new places, and so on. But that is not the whole definition. The degree of publicness or privateness (Blokland speaks of a public-private continuum, ibid.: 554) also depends on specific (yet variable) rules of communicative action. Spaces are experienced as more (or less) public if personal feelings and private thoughts are felt to be kept more (or less) secret (Blokland 2017: ibid.), and/or if the communication with strangers is more (or less) regulated through controlled expression, stylised apparel, and so on (Bahrdt 1998, original 1961; Sennett 1977).

Translocalisation and Polycontexturality The spatial refiguration in late modernity involves not only the undermining and overwriting of traditional territorial structures, but also the formation of networks of interdependencies through processes of translocalisation and polycontexturalisation. The term “translocalisation” refers to the embeddedness of societal entities such as the family, neighbourhoods or religious communities in various circulation flows, i.e. to the fact that many people have roots in several places at once. Coupling circulation and various locations on a transnational level raise the awareness

34

M. Löw

that one place is always related to a multitude of others, and that a person’s “sense of place” is never self-evident. Polycontexturality, on the other hand, highlights the fact that spatial contexts are premised on various, very different scales, levels and dimensions at once. Spaces assume their specific shape and meaningful figuration by simultaneously relating to different social systems, fields, institutions and standards on varying spatial ranges and scales (global, supranational, national, urban, local). Polycontexturality further implies that the social contexts of action no longer follow the traditional distinction of “micro”/direct, “meso”/indirect and “macro”/societal levels, but instead develop different (yet coupled) spatial logics and spatial meanings. With this in mind, we propose to conceive of public and private as sets of rules and institutions that function as a spatial context which has to be made relevant. The publicness of urban spaces is also a function of the communicative actions required and/or performed in the presence of others (this includes decisions as to what, for example, we say out loud, and what we may text secretly—secretly in the sense that at the moment of typing I believe no-one else apart from the addressee will read my text, so I experience the exchange as private). Publicness is thus a situational requirement to be met as part of the spatial context. From an institutional perspective, the continuum between public and private is produced through contexts of access and exclusion. The publicness of space is, moreover, a function of certain rules and regulations inscribed in particular locations—for example, the fact that places are CCTVed, might lead—if indicated by a visible notice—to changes in interactional patterns, and clearly distinguishes this type of space from private spaces. The difference between public and private is nevertheless relevant in late-modern societies (after all, people regularly refer to the distinction), but it has become more dynamic, more fluid and more open to interpretation. If the constitution of space is more variable in form and scale nowadays (think of a projection of cosmic space on a giant screen on a public urban place as one example), it makes sense to conceive of public/private as structural contexts of space to be reconstructed in empirical analyses: When and how is the constitution of space experienced (or established) as public or private? When and how do other contexts emerge as (more) relevant? Which conflicts evolve around the

2 Social and Spatial Uncertainty and Inequality …

35

polycontexturality of spaces, not least with regard to differing contextualisations of public and private in different cities? Space no longer exists as the one singular space. It is only there in the plural: as diversified space on which each individual has—like everyone else—to impose order. ‘Public space’ is thus one spatial formation among other spatialisations taking effect in equal measure. This crucial insight is relevant for urban studies in several respects. Not only have people’s lives accelerated on an unprecedented scale (as findings have suggested for a long time), they also live in more polycontextural environments requiring the constitution of spaces on different scales, following different logics and contexts simultaneously. It is hardly surprising that this should be a source of conflicts, challenges, opportunities, stresses and strains for the individual. Many social conflicts in urban contexts today can be described as a contradiction between spatial form and the (often emotionally charged) spatial knowledge associated with it. Taking globalisation as a marker issue (i.e. the experience that the relevance of national territorial space is increasingly paralleled—and overlaps with— internationally networked spaces of circulation), there are indications that the fear of globalisation rises with low education, low income and old(er) age (De Vries and Hoffmann 2016). For a better understanding of urban reality, it is therefore essential to know exactly who builds trust in which forms of space; which forms of space are constructed for which purpose; and how and when does space become an issue of concern or dispute? To sum up: The way we constitute space and spatial structures has radically changed since the ‘long’ 1960s. The era of territoriality (and its psychogenetic equivalent, the “container”, i.e. bounded, delimited space, as dominant spatial model) has come to an end due to societal transformations only briefly sketched here, such as social movements, globalisation and the effects of digitisation. This does not, however, mean that territorial forms of space do not exist anymore, it means that the perception and structuring of a lifeworld according to which spatial constitutions are seen as deviant if not complying with the territorial model have changed. And it does not mean that territorial space was the only existing form of space until the 1970s, nor that the territory has ceased to be a relevant figure in the present. It simply means that territoriality has lost the hegemonic orientation function it used to have.

36

M. Löw

The concept of refiguration as it is proposed here, allows for a better understanding of the late-modern spatial condition in which territorial forms (nation-states, special zones, camps, colonies, etc.) and more explicitly relational spatial forms (networks, layers, clouds, trajectorial spaces) overlap, conflict or interact in mutual dependency (to be reconstructed in empirical analyses). The constitution of space has, according to our hypothesis, become more mediatised, translocal and polycontextural in recent decades. Moreover, if spatial refiguration is both a macrostructural and an emotional process, it inevitably involves uncertainty resulting in unequal, conflicting or incompatible ideas and conceptualisations of space. (Translation of the German text by Bettina Seifried) Acknowledgements This publication was funded by the German Research Foundation DFG as part of the Collaborative Research Centre SFB 1265 “Refiguration of Spaces”. The article presents preliminary findings and theoretical basics developed in joint interdisciplinary project work.

References Appadurai, A. (1996). Modernity at Large: Cultural Dimensions of Globalization. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Augé, M. (1992). Non-Lieux. Introduction à une anthropologie de la surmodernité. Paris: Éditions du Seuil. Bach, J. (2011). Modernity and the Urban Imagination in Economic Zones. Theory, Culture & Society, 28(5), 98–122. Bahrdt, H. P. (1998). Die moderne Großstadt. Soziologische Überlegungen zum Städtebau. Opladen: Springer (Original work published 1961). Balibar, E., & Wallerstein, I. (1991). Race, Nation, Class: Ambiguous Identities. New York: Verso. Barry, A. (2006). Technological Zones. European Journal of Social Theory, 9 (2), 239–253. Bathelt, H., et al. (2004). Clusters and Knowledge: Local Buzz, Global Pipelines and the Process of Knowledge Creation. Progress in Human Geography, 28(1), 31–56.

2 Social and Spatial Uncertainty and Inequality …

37

Baur, N., et al. (2014). Theory and Methods in Spatial Analysis. Towards Integrating Qualitative, Quantitative and Cartographic Approaches in the Social Sciences and Humanities. Historical Social Research, 39 (2), 7–50. Blokland, T. (2017). The Public Life of Social Capital. In S. Hall & R. Burdett (Eds.), The SAGE Handbook of the 21st Century City (pp. 552–566). London: Sage. Bürgerschaft der freien Hansestadt Hamburg. (2017). Schriftliche Kleine Anfrage der Abgeordneten Anna-Elisabeth von Treuenfels-Frowein (FDP) vom 19.01.17 und Antwort des Senats. Abrufbar unter: https://www.buergerschaft-hh.de/ ParlDok/dokument/56232/datenschutz-an-schulen-%E2%80%93-wie-istder-aktuelle-stand-.pdf. letzter Zugriff: 5.3.2019. Butler, J. (2012). Parting Ways. Jewishness and the Critique of Zionism. New York: Columbia University Press. Casey, E. (1997). The Fate of Place. A Philosophical History. Oakland: University of California Press. Castells, M. (1996): The Rise of the Network Society. The Information Age: Economy, Society, and Culture (Vol. I). Information Age Series. London: Blackwell. Castells, M. (2009). Communication Power. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Cattacin, S., & Domenig, D. (2014). Why Do Transnationally Mobile People Volunteer? Insights from a Swiss Case Study. VOLUNTAS: International Journal of Voluntary and Nonprofit Organizations, 25 (3), 707–729. Conrad, S. (2010). Globalization and the Nation in Imperial Germany. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Conradson, D., & McKay, D. (2007). Translocal Subjectivities. Mobility, Connection, Emotion. Mobilities, 2(2), 167–174. Deleuze, G., & Guattari, F. (1988). A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. London: Athlone Press (Original work published 1980). De Vries, C., & Hoffmann, I. (2016). Globalisierungsangst oder Wertekonflikt? Wer in Europa populistische Parteien wählt und warum. Eupinions. Gütersloh: Studie der Bertelsmann Stiftung. Einstein, A. (1960). Vorwort. In M. Jammer (Ed.), Das Problem des Raumes. Die Entwicklung der Raumtheorien (pp. XII–XVII). Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft. Elias, N. (1994). The Civilizing Process. Oxford: Blackwell (Original work published 1939, 1961). Faist, T. (2000). Transstaatliche Räume: Politik, Wirtschaft und Kultur in und zwischen Deutschland und der Türkei. Bielefeld: Transcript. Faist, T., & Ette, A. (2007). Transnationale Migration als relative Immobilität in einer globalisierten Welt. Berliner Journal für Soziologie, 17 (3), 415–437.

38

M. Löw

Foucault, M. (1991). Andere Räume. In M. Wentz (Ed.), Stadt-Räume. Die Zukunft des Städtischen. Frankfurter Beiträge (Bd. 2, pp. 65–72). Frankfurt a. M. and New York: Campus Verlag. Fuller, M. G., & Löw, M. (2017). Introduction: An Invitation to Spatial Sociology. Current Sociology, 65 (4), 469–491. Giedion, S. (1941). Space, Time & Architecture: The Growth of a New Tradition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Gugerli, D., & Speich, D. (2002). Topografien der Nation. Politik, kartografische Ordnung und Landschaft im 19. Jahrhundert. Zürich: Chronos. Günzel, S. (2017). Raum. Eine kulturwissenschaftliche Einführung. Bielefeld: Transcript. Günzel, S., & Nowak, L. (Eds.), (2012). KartenWissen: Territoriale Räume zwischen Bild und Diagramm. Trier: Reichert. Harvey, D. (1985). The Limits to Capital. Oxford: Blackwell. Heitmeyer, W. (1996, September 26). Die gefährliche Zerstückelung von Zeit und Raum. Zu den Folgen wachsender sozialer Desintegration. Frankfurter Rundschau, 18. Herlyn, U. (2004). Zum Bedeutungswandel der öffentlichen Sphäre – Anmerkungen zur Urbanitätstheorie von H. P. Bahrdt. In W. Siebel (Ed.), Die europäische Stadt (pp. 121–130). Frankfurt a. M.: Suhrkamp. Jureit, U. (2012). Das Ordnen von Räumen. Territorium und Lebensraum im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert. Hamburg: Hamburger Edition. Knoblauch, H., & Löw, M. (2017). On the Spatial Re-figuration of the Social World. Sociologica, 11(2), 27. https://doi.org/10.2383/88197. Leonhard, J. (2013). Imperial Projections and Piecemeal Realities: Multiethnic Empires and the Experience of Failure in the Nineteenth Century. In M. Reinkowski (Ed.), Helpless Imperialists: Imperial Failure, Fear and Radicalization (pp. 21–46). Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Newton, I. (1988, orig. 1687). Mathematische Grundlagen der Naturphilosophie. Hamburg: Academia. Selle, K. (2004). Öffentliche Räume in der europäischen Stadt – Verfall und Ende oder Wandel und Belebung. Reden und Gegenreden. In W. Siebel (Ed.), Die europäische Stadt (pp. 131–141). Frankfurt a. M.: Suhrkamp. von Hirschhausen, U., & Leonhard, J. (2011). Zwischen Historisierung und Globalisierung: Titel, Themen und Trends der neuen Empire-Forschung. Neue Politische Literatur, 56, 389–404.

2 Social and Spatial Uncertainty and Inequality …

39

Top of Form Knoblauch, H. (2017). Die kommunikative Konstruktion der Wirklichkeit. Springer: Wiesbaden.

Bottom of Form Landwehr, A. (2007). Die Erschaffung Venedigs. Raum, Bevölkerung, Mythos 1570–1750. Paderborn: Verlag Ferdinand Schöningh. Lash S., & Urry, J. (1994). Economies of Signs and Space. London: Sage. Lefebvre, H. (1970). La révolution urbaine. Paris: Gallimard. Lefebvre, H. (1973). La survie du capitalisme: La re-production des rapports de production. Paris: Éditions Anthropos. Löw, M. (2016). The Sociology of Space. New York. Löw, M., & Weidenhaus, G. (2017). Borders That Relate: Conceptualizing Boundaries in Relational Space. Current Sociology, 65 (4), 553–570. Lüthi, S., et al. (2013). The Relational Geography of the Knowledge Economy in Germany: On Functional Urban Hierarchies and Localised Value Chain Systems. Urban Studies, 50 (2), 276–293. Lyotard, J.-F. (1979). La condition postmoderne. Paris: Les Éditions de Minuit. Maier, C. S. (2000). Consigning the Twentieth Century to History: Alternative Narratives for the Modern Era. American Historical Review, 105 (3), 807–831. Mau, S. (2007). Transnationale Vergesellschaftung. Die Entgrenzung sozialer Lebenswelten. Frankfurt a. M. and New York: Campus Verlag. McFarlane, C. (2011). Learning the City: Knowledge and Translocal Assemblage. Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell. Mignolo, W. (2000). Local Histories/Global Designs. Coloniality, Subaltern Knowledges, and Border Thinking. Princeton: Princeton University Press. ¨ Anstiftung zum Mitscherlich, A. (1965). Die Unwirtlichkeit unserer Stadte: Unfrieden. Frankfurt a. M.: Suhrkamp. Mol, A., & Law, J. (1994). Regions, Networks and Fluids: Anaemia and Social Topology. Social Studies of Science, 24 (4), 641–671. Muchow, M., & Muchow, H. H. (1935). Der Lebensraum des Großstadtkindes. Hamburg: Beltz Juventa. Münzer, S. (2012). Inter-individuelle Unterschiede beim räumlichen Orientierungslernen mit dynamischen Visualisierungen. In A. Hüttermann, et al.

40

M. Löw

(Eds.), Räumliche Orientierung. Räumliche Orientierung, Karten und Geointormation im Unterricht (pp. 74–84). Braunschweig: Westermann. Münzer, S., et al. (2006). Computer-Assisted Navigation and the Acquisition of Route and Survey Knowledge. Journal of Environmental Psychology, 26, 300–308. Osterhammel, J. (2000). Raumbeziehungen, internationale Geschichte, Geopolitik und historische Geographie. In W. Loth & J. Osterhammel (Eds.), Internationale Geschichte. Themen – Ereignisse – Aussichten (pp. 287–308). München: Oldenbourg Verlag. Pfeil, E. (1955). Das Großstadtkind. Stuttgart: Klett. Piaget, J., & Inhelder, B. (1975). Die Entwicklung des räumlichen Denkens beim Kinde. Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta (Original work published 1947). Pott, A. (2011). Die Raumordnung des Tourismus. Soziale Systeme, 17 (2), 255–276. Pries, L. (2008). Die Transnationalisierung der sozialen Welt: Sozialräume jenseits von Nationalgesellschaften. Frankfurt a. M.: Suhrkamp. Raffestin, C. (1980). Pour une géographie du pouvoir. Paris: ENS éditions. Randeria, S. (2000). Jenseits von Soziologie und soziokultureller Anthropologie: Zur Ortsbestimmung der nichtwestlichen Welt in einer zukünftigen Sozialtheorie. In U. Beck & A. Kieserling (Eds.), Ortsbestimmungen in der Soziologie.Wie die kommende Generation Gesellschaftswissenschaften betreiben will (pp. 41–50). Baden-Baden: Nomos. Robertson, R. (1998). Glokalisierung: Homogenität und Heterogenität in Raum und Zeit. In U. Beck (Ed.), Perspektiven der Weltgesellschaft (pp. 192–220). Frankfurt a. M.: Suhrkamp. Schregel, S. (2011). Der Atomkrieg vor der Wohnungstür. Eine Politikgeschichte der neuen Friedensbewegung in der Bundesrepublik 1970–1985. Frankfurt a. M. and New York: Campus Verlag. Schwenken, H., & Ruß-Sattar, S. (2014). New Migration and Citizenship Politics. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Sennett, R. (1977). The Fall of Public Man. New York: Random House. Shields, R. (2013). Spatial Questions. CulturalTopologies and Social Spatializations. Los Angeles: Sage. Siebel, W. (2004). Einleitung. Die europäische Stadt. In W. Siebel (Ed.), Die europäische Stadt (pp. 11–51). Frankfurt a. M.: Suhrkamp. Tillmann, A., & Hugger, K.-U. (2014). Mediatisierte Kindheit. Aufwachsen in mediatisierten Lebenswelten. In A. Tillmann, S. Fleischer, & K.-U. Hugger (Eds.), Handbuch Kinder und Medien. Digitale Kultur und Kommunikation I (pp. 31–40). Wiesbaden: Springer.

2 Social and Spatial Uncertainty and Inequality …

41

Urry, J. (2007). Mobilities. Cambridge: Polity. Zeiher, H. J., & Zeiher, H. (1994). Orte und Zeiten der Kinder. Soziales Leben im Alltag von Großstadtkindern. Weinheim: Juventa Verlag.

3 Cosmopolitanism vs Identity and Belonging? M. Victoria Gómez

Introduction Currently, the tension between politics of identity and belonging on the one hand, and cosmopolitanism on the other has taken the form of a false dilemma in which both parts are presented as exclusive options. The historical context of recent years fuels this problem. The paradoxical effects of globalisation have favoured a withdrawal of states towards the national sphere. In some countries, this withdrawal has shown a xenophobic character in favour of raising walls against immigration, has been accompanied by scepticism towards international agreements, a reinforcement of anti-establishment movements, a lack of confidence in democratic institutions, a weakening of the link between representatives and represented, and ultimately, a crisis of liberal democracies.

M. V. Gómez (B) University Carlos III, Madrid, Spain e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2020 M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al. (eds.), Inequality and Uncertainty, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1_3

43

44

M. Victoria Gómez

Such an unsettling scenario facilitates that political and social liberal elites resort to cosmopolitan discourses and the promotion of cosmopolitan identity. However, the model of cosmopolitanism that shapes this discourse most frequently suffers from some of the problems that have accompanied an unbridled and deregulated globalisation that competent analysts have described as hyperglobalisation (e.g. Gray 2000; Held et al. 1997; Rodrik 2011). As will be explained in the different sections of this chapter, politics of identity and attention to feelings of belonging are being the victims of this model, to the point that they have been presented as efficient causes of xenophobic and nationalist retreat movements, by a spectrum of opinions that run the entire political arc from right to left. However, this diagnosis does not seem to fit the reality. Assuming that the construction of a cosmopolitan identity is necessary to face coexistence in a globalised world, it will have little chance of prospering if it considers the feelings of belonging and identity as rival elements in this task. The problem of the relationship between cosmopolitan identity and feelings of belonging is not a question that only affects the ideological or cultural sphere. It has a significant impact on urban solidarity and, more generally, on the type of city we want to build. As Amin (2006) points out, any habit of urban solidarity is affected by social and cultural practices formed in the public sphere. Urban space is the place where most aspects of public culture are visualised. Cities represent one of the preferred places where the effects of globalisation, the response to it, the scope of the feelings of belonging and the conflicts that may give rise to identity problems are evident. Cities are the scenario of coexistence among people of different origins, identities and languages. A superficial glance would accredit that they are experiencing the growth of cosmopolitanisation. But if we understand cosmopolitanisation as this meeting of different people, we should conclude that it is not a new phenomenon, but that it has existed for centuries, since it is largely a product of the expansion of markets. The world market demands crossbreeding between cultures. Even so, at other times this miscegenation has also taken place in closed societies. However, since the second modernity, it shows a different profile. We are witnessing a cosmopolitanisation that means, among other things, the disappearance of a closed society, the weakening of borders and a growing perception that local life

3 Cosmopolitanism vs Identity and Belonging?

45

experience is shaped by events that occur in distant places (Giddens 2004: 67–68). We live a cosmopolitan condition that, in the words of Michel Agier (2013), is born on the border, in everything that borders. Uncertain places, uncertain times, uncertain, ambiguous, incomplete, optional identities are encounters and experiences that relate here and there, local events with the global context. In reality, we are cosmopolitan in fact without having wanted or conceived it since this situation is shared daily (Agier 2013: 7). However, this situation has not been experienced as a liberation. Many people have the feeling that their world is coming down. In the past, orientation in the labyrinth of cultures seemed easier, through antitheses like us/them, inside/outside, internal/external, national/international or categories such as nation, class and people (Beck 2005). Today, the open world and intercultural coexistence make many people see themselves as strangers in their own city and their own country. Uncertainty overshadows horizons and life projects, emotional ties become more important and, in these circumstances, the search for anchors and the affirmation of belonging and community protection are part of a natural reaction (Castells 1997; Bauman 2003; Sennett 1999) as long as this does not imply exclusivist identity rejection. From another perspective, globalisation has other effects that move to openness. As a result of its influence, there is a greater perception of global risks such as ecological imbalances, financial crises, terrorist insecurity, the existence of unmanageable migratory flows, poverty in the world, all of them being risks that require solutions in areas that transcend national borders. In societies affected by this double urgency of searching for both anchors and openness, two types of political discourses appear (among others). On the one hand, the discourse that feeds the fears of what comes from “outside” and finds the solution in xenophobic policies and the nationalist closure based on unique and excluding identities. On the other hand, a cosmopolitan discourse, summarily identified in the first lines of the chapter, which criticises identity policies and dismisses the feelings of belonging, considering that identity divides (e.g. Lilla 2016) and appeals to world citizenship, or to a citizenship that transcends the borders of the states.

46

M. Victoria Gómez

The aim of this chapter is, first, to provide reasons to argue that such cosmopolitanism is not effective against the deployment of xenophobic policies and second, to show that there are evidences of practices, ideas and feelings in urban societies and in neighbourhoods, which may constitute the foundations of a cosmopolitanism appropriate to current circumstances. Although it is a chapter of a fundamentally theoretical nature, it is accompanied by empirical material from an investigation about place attachment carried out by the author between 2013 and 2017 in two urban areas located respectively in Madrid (Spain) and Glasgow (Scotland).1 In the first part, after a brief sketch about the concept and history of cosmopolitanism, we will characterise the meaning that it has taken currently as a result of a concrete interpretation of economic and cultural globalisation. Next, we will advance some features of a cosmopolitanism that does not antagonise the project of a shared universal human destiny with sensitivity to identities and local roots. In the following section, the connection between the actual experience of a cosmopolitan life and the feeling of local belonging will be shown on the basis of statistical data of different scales and the speeches and practices of the residents interviewed in Madrid and Glasgow.

The Complexity of Cosmopolitanism Cosmopolitanism has not had a unique expression throughout history. It is a problematic term whose meaning has been debated and changed, acquiring new contents and connotations in different circumstances. The first elaborated expression of a cosmopolitan vision of the world can be found in Stoic ethics. Coppleston (1994) summarises the Stoic philosophical reasoning that leads to cosmopolitanism: for the human being, living in society is a requirement of the reason. The reason is the essential nature common to all humans. As a result, all humans have one law and one single motherland. Consequently, the division of humanity 1 Methodologically

speaking the research made use of quantitative data from secondary sources for contextual purposes in both areas but it was mainly based on qualitative field work: semi-structured interviews with local residents and key informants (N = 39 in Malasaña, Madrid and N = 37 in Partick, Glasgow), non-participant and participant observation and mapping of social relations.

3 Cosmopolitanism vs Identity and Belonging?

47

into nations hostile to each other is an absurdity: “the wise person” is a citizen, not of this or that particular state, but of the world. The ethical ideal is reached when our self-love embraces humanity in its broadest sense (Coppleston 1994: 397). In this brief description, we already find the seminal expression with which the cosmopolitan identity will be identified thereafter: to be a citizen of the world. Despite reflecting a very ambitious ideal, this formula already contained the germ of one of the problems that will always accompany cosmopolitan philosophy: the tension between love for humanity and affection for what is close. Nussbaum (2013: 222–223), a researcher of classical thought, describes the anxiety of Marco Aurelio—a canonical reference of Stoicism—when he perceived that reaching the point where we are able to give a balanced interest to all human beings demands the systematic suppression of all preoccupation and attachment oriented towards the local: the own family, the own city and the own love and desire. In this same line, Kant (2006 [1784]) expanded the figure of the cosmopolitan to represent the “universal citizen”, an emblem of humanity transcending local customs and traditions (Sennett 2018). It is not strange that this tension between universal citizenship and solidarity with the closest has been a reason for constant reflection. In this sense, it is worth recalling the debate that took place in the 1990s among prominent philosophers, historians and sociologists such as Walzer, Wallerstein, Himmelfarb, Butler, Appiah, Barber, Sen, Nussbaum, and Putnam, about how to reconcile cosmopolitanism with the national and local closest loyalties. It was Martha Nussbaum (1999) who initiated the debate with a critique of the American patriotism that Rorty (1994) postulated. At that point Nussbaum was close to Stoic cosmopolitanism (Gómez and Álvarez 2013: 121), something that she modified later, showing more sensitivity towards patriotism. At that time, she took the Stoic doctrine on world citizenship as a reference in order to support her criticism of Rorty’s patriotism. Invoking the ideas of Kant, Rawls, and Adam Smith, she argued that our highest loyalty should not be granted to any form of government, nor to any temporal power, but to the community of all human beings (Nussbaum 1999: 18). In response, she received criticism from some of the participants in the debate who emphasised the fact that

48

M. Victoria Gómez

people’s emotional and moral development unfolds through the closest experiences in which local traditions play a prominent role. In order to combine the affection between those who are closest to us and those that are far from our reach, i.e. “humanity”, Walzer (1999: 153–155), proposed the image of concentric circles of loyalties, but he pointed out that these begin in the closest circle and from there, they extend to the most remote. Hilary Putnam (1999), for his part, argued that we all have more than one identity. According to him, when combating discrimination, it is not convenient to appeal to world citizenship but it is more operative to resort to formulas that have a universal potential and a long history in local traditions such as “we are all children of God” in the Christian tradition or to the solidarity of all human beings. It is also necessary to quote Taylor (1999: 145–147) who pointed out the error of proposing a cosmopolitan identity as an alternative to patriotism because democratic societies require that their citizens feel deeply identified with them. A citizen democracy, he says, can only work if most of its members are convinced that their political society is a common enterprise, something that is not easy according to the author, because the major threats to strengthen this commitment are deep inequalities and a feeling of abandonment that arises among marginalised minorities. To prevent this excess of inequality, societies must be able to adopt redistributive policies, which also requires mutual commitment. Historically, paradoxes and misunderstandings have also affected universalism, one of the main components of the notion of cosmopolitanism. Beck (2005) subtly describes the double face of universalism, distinguishing between the universalism of diversity that personifies in the Aristotelian philosopher Juan Ginés de Sepúlveda and the universalism of similarity that he identifies with Fray Bartolomé de las Casas. Neither of the two can be taken as exemplary. The first recognised the diversity of civilisations, but he established a hierarchy between them (in line with Huntington’s [2005] current postulates). The second advocated the equality of civilisations, but only when the universal truth of Christianity was accepted. According to Beck (2005: 84–85), both positions show the “totalitarian features of universalism”, so cosmopolitanism must exclude both positions and consider the others different and equal, that is, to combine diversity and equality.

3 Cosmopolitanism vs Identity and Belonging?

49

Stateless Cosmopolitanism Throughout History, cosmopolitanism has never been as successful as in recent decades. As an explanation, Ingram (2013) uses at least four reasons. (1) The first has to do with the fact that the notion of globalisation has taken over the concept of cosmopolitanism through the movement of goods, people and cultures that have transcended borders. (2) The dominant interdependence that has led to both the rise of multilateralism and to proposals for global governance. (3) The end of the political dualism of the Cold War that divided the world through an axis. (4) The rise of human rights and democracy as a language of political justification. However, the cosmopolitanism that was born with globalisation in the 1990s suffered from a serious defect. Some have characterised it as a stateless cosmopolitanism (Costas 2018) that has made a clean sweep of both the complexity of universalism and the tension between attachment for the close and effect for the distant, inherent in historical cosmopolitanism. The latter is similar to that cosmopolitanism that Dostoyevsky (1912) denounced in some way when one of its protagonists2 states: “I love humanity, but I wonder at myself. The more I love humanity in general, the less I love man in particular”. Hunter and Yeats (2002) note the lack of sensitivity to diversity and belonging of this type of cosmopolitanism as shown by certain American elites. According to these authors, this is a behaviour that will prevail in the global culture. There is no doubt that the members of these elites are cosmopolitan: they travel the world and their area of responsibility is the world. They see themselves as “global citizens”. The environment they inhabit is mostly homogeneous and artificial. It is not that they destroy locality and place, but they transform them into abstract, fluid and provisional entities (Hunter and Yeats 2002). Rorty (1999), for his part, puts the focus on business cosmopolitanism. According to this author, business cosmopolitanism is complemented by a certain cultural cosmopolitanism that announces a privileged way of life. “This appalling economic cosmopolitanism has as its derivative a 2 Sentence pronounced by Zosima, spiritual counsellor of Alyosha, one of the main protagonists of The Brothers Karamazov.

50

M. Victoria Gómez

pleasant cultural cosmopolitanism. Squads of young entrepreneurs fill the first class of the transoceanic flights, while plump teachers like myself who come and go very quickly from here to there giving interdisciplinary conferences in great places are overloaded in tourist class. But that cultural cosmopolitanism of recent acquisition is limited to the richest 25% of the United States’ population. The new economic cosmopolitanism presages a future in which the other 75% of Americans will see their standard of living constantly decreasing. Very likely we will end up having a United States divided into hereditary social castes”3 (Rorty 1999: 81). When it comes to identifying this cosmopolitanism, it is necessary to characterise the structural conditions in which it arises (Brenan 1997). The stateless character of this cosmopolitanism stems from a certain conception of globalisation that supports that states and nations are currently an evanescent phenomenon (e.g. Hardt and Negri 2002; Ohmae 1995) and that the world is moving towards a cultural homogeneity in social, economic and political terms (e.g. Inglehart and Welzel 2006). This vision has also been called the ideology of globalisation (Gómez and Álvarez 2013). The novelty, compared to other theories of modernisation and convergence, is that in this projection of the future, the market plays a decisive role. The fascination produced by the relative unification of the world market contributes to this distortion of reality. It is worth recalling at this point Alexander’s comment (2000) on the negative role of different groups of contemporary intellectuals in refloating the emancipatory narrative of the market that turned global progress and convergence into something that depended on privatisation, contracts, monetary inequality and competitiveness. The prediction about the obsolescence of the states is not a matter of today. If we go back a few decades we find that same idea, incessantly denied by facts. It is important to remember that in 1945 there were 51 states recognised by the United Nations, 159 in 1990, 189 in 2000 and 193 since 2012. Himmelfarb (1999) justifies the validity of the nation-state because it is the real and practical scenario in which we find a guarantee for the exercise of our rights. After all, “the first requirement of a welfare state

3 Author’s

translation.

3 Cosmopolitanism vs Identity and Belonging?

51

is a state”, in the same way as the basic requirement of international cooperation, indispensable for economic development, security and protection of the environment “is the existence of states capable of undertaking and fostering international agreements” (Himmelfarb 1999: 91–96). The confusion about the weakening of the sovereignty of states in several aspects, some of them as important as the economy, have fuelled the belief in their extinction and have led to underestimating the considerable strength that national identities possess. Reality reveals that the nation as an identity inducer is stronger than ever. We live in an era in which the economy plays an important role and conditions our lives, but cultural politics dominates the world scene (Castells 2018). In this sense, it is enough to see the role it plays in the speeches that animate the Brexit or in the xenophobic policies that push the closure of some states to immigrants. As a result, undermining the relevance of national identities and trusting in the fading of nations, reduces the effectiveness of policies against xenophobia. The European Union, for example, has been caught off guard because of its belief about the weakness of national identities. Among the factors that have led to the growth of xenophobic movements, we must highlight the increase of inequalities produced within and between states by neoliberal policies implemented in the heat of globalisation and the economic crisis (Rodrik 2018; Stiglitz 2018; Sandel 2016). As a consequence, the disparities created between the South and the North make it difficult to identify Europe as a common enterprise. But it is also necessary to recognise that both the feelings of belonging to the nation state and the desires of self-government of the populations of those states have been underestimated. Frequently these have been answered with elitist governmental and bureaucratic practices by powers away from social and political control. It is not risky to deduce that today’s nationalism is partly a reaction to the cosmopolitanism of the previous epoch (Costas 2018), a cosmopolitanism that considered that states were dead and frontiers were extinguished. That cosmopolitan perspective, while misrepresenting national interests as selfish, presumes that there is an alternative European identity. Nevertheless, the reasons on which this belief is based leave much to be desired. For example, the presentation of the imagined European community (Anderson 2006) as the bulwark par excellence of human rights

52

M. Victoria Gómez

and liberal democracy, is weakened when it is easy to see that in a considerable part of Europe, supporters of authoritarianism are acceding to power. On the other hand, the recourse to appeal to European traditions, values, and customs does not seem very effective either, running the risk of appearing as a sectarian invocation, because the contribution of other cultures to the construction of Europe cannot be ignored. On the basis of the character of an unfinished community (Amin 2013: 65) which is what the European Union really is, the aspiration to an identity that substitutes national feelings of belonging should be much more modest. It is not an easy task. Until such an identity exists, leaving national identities in the hands of right-wing movements favour xenophobic and excluding ideologies. Rejecting national identities with appeals to cosmopolitanism is to ignore the need we all have to satisfy feelings of belonging. We would be thus contributing to throw the baby out with the bathwater, through the mistaken belief that this type of cosmopolitanism immunises Europe from exclusive nationalisms.

The Strength of Local Roots and Shared Identities Feelings of national and local belonging continue to have a relevant place when citizens express their preferences about local, national identities and those that transcend the borders of their country. These feelings were brought to light in two surveys of different scope. The first is the World Values Survey (2015) investigation of the strength of local, national and global identities in 59 countries. The results revealed that identification with the local community and the nation were well above identification with “global citizenship”. The tables below show the distribution of answers to the question: do you feel part of your community? In aggregate percentage terms, 82.8% agreed and 14.4% disagreed. Concerning the question, do you feel like a citizen of the world? 71.2% answered affirmatively and 23.6% answered negatively (Tables 3.1 and 3.2). These results show that even if feelings of attachment to the local are stronger, there is compatibility between both feelings, so that the respondents do not consider the questions as a dilemma. Nevertheless, loyalty

3 Cosmopolitanism vs Identity and Belonging?

Table 3.1

53

Identification with the local community

Do you feel that you are part of your community?

%

Strongly agree Agree Disagree Strongly disagree

38.1 44.7 9.6 4.8

Source World Values Survey (2015)

Table 3.2

Feelings of global citizenship

Do you feel like a citizen of the world?

%

Strongly agree Agree Disagree Strongly disagree

29.7 41.5 16.6 7.0

Source World Values Survey (2015)

to national or local citizenship and loyalty to world citizenship have a different character. National and local citizenships are delimited not only physically but also by a framework of rights and duties. Citizens are aware that policymakers must be accountable for what they do whereas global or global citizenship is something more ethereal and does not have an institutional translation in the field of rights and obligations. The identification of the interviewees as citizens of the world shows a non negligible concern for the care of “others” and for the problems of the world that require collaboration among all. However, it is not possible to present it as an alternative to feeling as a citizen at the local or national level. It is easy to understand that this is how respondents understood the questions, so they did not consider local and national identities and world citizenship incompatible. The second survey on intercultural coexistence in the local sphere (Obra Social La Caixa 2015), carried out in Spain in 2015, shows how people from other countries and cultures identify with the local arena. In one of its sections, the survey explored identity and local belonging from the data of satisfaction with the area, and the feelings of belonging to different levels of territorial structures. The results show that feeling of belonging

54

M. Victoria Gómez

increases in relation to the closest and daily environment, i.e. the neighbourhood or the municipality. Conversely, it decreases with the distant, with the administrative levels that are more abstracts for residents such as the regional, state and European. However, in the case of foreigners, there was an exception: their country of origin arouses their strongest sense of belonging, although the importance they give to identification with the locality where they live is also relevant. The data reveals that loyalties and identities are diverse, that they do not have to be exclusive, that they can live together. At the same time, this idea fits Walzer’s (1999) metaphor of “concentric circles”. It is possible to object to this interpretation of the coexistence among different affiliations that identity by itself creates a border between inside and outside, between “us” and “them”. However, it is also true that “we” can be articulated by affirming the elements that are considered valuable in the community and not accentuating the features that separate it from “them”. In other words, not all identities are exclusive. It is always possible to examine an identity’s degree of openness to “external” identities (Calhoun 2005). To a large extent, the harmony of social relationships depends on the understanding of the plurality of identities that converge in people and on the superposition that exists between different identities (Sen 2007). Below there are some examples taken from the fieldwork carried out for the research on place attachment in two local districts of Madrid and Glasgow. Although it was not the first objective of the research, it is possible to check the way residents of the neighbourhood somehow assumed a very natural coexistence between both cosmopolitan and feelings of local belonging: I’ve lived in this area all my life except for just over a year when I stayed in Australia and worked and travelled and worked in various cities and got a real perspective on living in different cities because I worked and lived in Perth, Sydney and Brisbane and worked hard and worked, worked, worked […]. [But] I never got more excited when I was in my car and I was coming back. I love my country [Scotland], and I love the world, and I used to drive and get on the motorway and when I saw that Welcome to Glasgow sign I would just…and there’s something changed, and I feel that about Partick. Yes, I feel good here.

3 Cosmopolitanism vs Identity and Belonging?

Female respondent from Glasgow neighbourhood, 50 years old, community development worker, divorced, one daughter. …Saying ‘where are you from?’ I’ve always had to say ‘I’m half English, half French’ because I really am. So living here is probably kind of a way of finding some way that’s kind of another place which is more me, really. Because I sort of created my own home, I suppose, really. You know. So yes, I do quite identify myself here. Female respondent from Madrid neighbourhood, 36 years old, teacher, married with a baby. I like it being so near to things. Because I lived in London for a wee while, for two years, and I loved London, but I had to travel for, you know, for everything. Travel to do this, travel to go to the cinema, travel to meet your friends, travel to work, travel to go to the gym, always on, you know, always on the underground. It’s okay, ‘cause there’s lots of great facilities, and it’s exciting. But the downside, to have all this, you’ve got to move around for it […] … and I like people that are friendly, it’s very friendly [the neighbourhood where she lives], I think it’s a very friendly place. And you see a lot of the same faces, so people say hello, and I think it’s friendly, and we’ve had nice neighbours, so I like that. Female respondent from Glasgow neighbourhood, 43 years old, working for a book publisher, living with her partner. [Some places] lose their identity. I mean that [pause] with the same stores, the same… it ends up giving a very uniform atmosphere, right? that the centre or certain streets of Brussels could also be in Stuttgart or could be in Dublin, right? because it is the same. There are sites that seem very superficial places to me, very [pause] without personality, superficial, without personality, as for people also quite superficial and without personality. If I like something about this area […] it’s that you still have the neighbourhood spirit here. In the sense that, because you go to the stores, they know you, you see older people, they greet you, there is a bit of life, not only youth and alcohol, as they say, but there is life too, right? During the day there is social life in the places, and people are always very aware of everything,

55

56

M. Victoria Gómez

and it is pleasant in that sense. Like small towns, right? […] not already too open to everything […]. Male respondent from Madrid neighbourhood. 30 years old, working for an international environmental group, living with his partner and two more friends.

These quotes reflect quite clearly how neighbours give major importance to the place where they live despite having lived elsewhere and having known other cultures. They do not make use of utilitarian motivations but of expression of emotions and feelings, in which the people around them play an important role when it comes to making them feel “at home”. They are people we can identify as cosmopolitans insofar as they are open to the ways of life in other countries or faraway places. However, that openness does not make them despise what is close to them; on the contrary, it leads them to value it even more. This way of combining affections is a good ingredient of opening up to both the world and others, and we could qualify it, taking Appiah’s (2005) term, of “rooted” cosmopolitanism. On the other hand, the link to the “spirit of the neighbourhood” and neighbourhood loyalties is made through the connection to place. Speaking on the revaluation of the local, Sennett (1999: 15) finds that the value of the place increases and draws attention to the following: “the feeling of place is founded in the need to belong not to society in the abstract but to some quite specific place. When this need is satisfied, people develop attachment and loyalty”.

The Need for a Scalar Approach Concerning the formation of cosmopolitan subjectivity, we should consider at least two dimensions. One of them has to do with that “superimposed” identity mentioned above, which leads us to feel as part of the experience of our daily context but at the same time interested in what happens beyond that circle. The second dimension affects relationships with people of other cultures and identities, which can take place both in the sphere of physical interaction and the sphere of ideological and political attitudes. The unfolding of the cosmopolitan subjectivity through these

3 Cosmopolitanism vs Identity and Belonging?

57

two dimensions obliges us to contemplate this problem through a scalar approach. At the local level, problems such as the history of local communities, the existence of cultural conflicts and existing inequalities become important, especially if these inequalities create borders between different cultural communities. If cosmopolitanism is about “being at home in the world” (Brenan 1997), the differences between social and economic classes restrict the production of cosmopolitan subjectivity (Binnie et al. 2006). If inequality also has spatial expression, the problem becomes more important because of the possible creation of ghettos or segregation processes linked to income and the price of housing, which hinder interethnic relationship. In this sense, it is necessary to emphasise that the neighbourhoods where the aforementioned research on attachment was developed, have not recently faced cultural conflicts and even if there are obvious class inequalities, they are not extreme examples of this problem. Educational centres and public spaces welcome people from different ethnic communities and in general, there is a climate of a good neighbourhood in both districts. On another spatial scale, for example, the country or the nation, both immigration policies and discourses on mixing and miscegenation of cultures are very important. This applies to discourses impregnated with xenophobic ideology that try to confront the cultures, but also to the supposed instrument to combat them: cosmopolitanism. It is significant that quite often xenophobic movements find more electoral support where there is less migratory presence, and less in large cities where the interaction and visibility of cultural diversity is much greater (Mounk 2018: 177–179). This paradox is explained because the diffusion of certain ideas unfolds over specific places with a certain autonomy in relation to physical interactions between communities of different cultures and identities. Hence, the attention that we have devoted throughout the article to the analysis of the problems of the dominant cosmopolitan model at present.

58

M. Victoria Gómez

Conclusions Today there is growing concern among liberal intellectual elites for the crisis that liberal democracies are going through, some of which are already governed by authoritarian, xenophobic and exclusive nationalist movements. Nevertheless, the cosmopolitan discourse with which these elites face this challenge suffers from a serious flaw: it belittles local and national identities, as well as feelings of belonging as if they were immersed in a phase of extinction. It is a cosmopolitanism of elites, like the one already anticipated by Lasch (1995) at the end of the last century. The elites treat the notion of cosmopolitanism as an abstract concept and experience planetary communication in such a way that they have more in common with the elites of other places than with the ordinary people who they cross paths with on a daily basis. These elites have shown little interest in developing local social and economic communities by taking advantage of the globalisation framework, as Kanter (1997) suggests. The opening of borders distances them from the difficulties of the immediate environment, from less favoured people, from those sectors most affected by the deterioration of the welfare state. Although it must be understood that specific historical conditions confer a concrete meaning on cosmopolitanism, from its origins it has presented ambiguities and tensions between close and far affections and between universalism and diversity. As a result, it is a complex concept. One of the problems of stateless cosmopolitanism today is that it makes a clean slate of the conflicts that the concept itself contains. Hence, the call to action on the need to analyse its ambivalent nature so that it is not reduced to a rhetorical figure that has become an exclusive alternative to emotions and feelings of belonging and identity. At the same time, implicitly, we open the reflection to a “rooted” cosmopolitanism, close to Appiah’s (2005), in the sense that it cannot be separated from the attachment to a national identity, but also depends on specific cultural and spatial affiliations. We have been able to verify this superposition of identities both through data extracted from the World Values Survey (2015) and the Spanish Obra Social de la Caixa’s survey about intercultural coexistence, as well as from the fieldwork quotations obtained in the neighbourhoods of

3 Cosmopolitanism vs Identity and Belonging?

59

Glasgow and Madrid. These references invite us to reflect on the importance that local roots have for people whose lived experiences have not been limited to their current habitats but have known other countries and cultures. Another important aspect is the need to consider the spatial scale when implementing policies to improve relations between different cultures.The local level requires paying more attention to the spatial, social, political and ideological problems that hamper community relations in neighbourhoods characterised by their cultural diversity. On a more global scale, the political and ideological narratives that tackle conflicts of cultural diversity and identity acquire greater significance. This chapter has paid special attention to the problems that affect this last perspective, particularly to the cosmopolitan discourse which is used when trying to combat the xenophobic and excluding ideology. It is also important to reiterate the link between the formation of these discourses and the urban environment, where they are visualised and carried out. Urban planning cannot disregard this connection at any time. The good city, to which Amin refers, depends on it.

References Agier, M. (2013). La condition cosmopolite, L’Antropologie à l’epreuve du piège identitaire. París: La Découverte. Alexander, J. C. (2000). Sociología Cultural. Barcelona: Anthropos. Amin, A. (2006). The Good City. Urban Studies, 43(5/6), 1009–1023. Amin, A. (2013). Tierra de extraños. Barcelona: Galaxia Gutenberg. Anderson, B. (2006). Comunidades imaginadas. Mexico: FCE. Appiah, K. A. (2005). Ethics in a World of Strangers: W.E.B. Du Bois and the Spirit of Cosmopolitanism. The Berlin Journal, 11, 23–25. Bauman, Z. (2003). Comunidad. Madrid: Siglo XXI. Beck, U. (2005). La mirada cosmopolita o la guerra es la paz. Barcelona: Paidós. Binnie, J., Holoway, J., Millington, S., & Young, C. (Eds.). (2006). Cosmopolitan Urbanisme. New York: Routledge. Brenan, T. (1997). At Home in the World: Cosmopolitanism Now. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

60

M. Victoria Gómez

Calhoun, C. (2005). Entrevista por Daniel Gamper. Universitas Revista de Filosofía, Derecho y Políticas, 2, 3–12. http://universitas.idhbc.es/n02/02-02_ gamper.pdf. Castells, M. (1997, December 20). Identidades. El País. Opinión. Castells, M. (2018, febrero 26). Los globalizadores han sido nacionalizados: la democracia liberal ha colapsado, en. La Vanguardia, entrevistador: Alexis Rodriguez-Rata. Coppleston, F. (1994). Historia de la Ética, TI. Barcelona: Ariel. Costas, A. (2018, September 19). Los ciclos de la política. La Vanguardia. Dostoyevsky, F. (1912). The Brothers Karamazov (Book II, p. 68). New York: The Lowell Press. Giddens, A. (2004). Las consecuencias de la modernidad. Madrid: Ariel. Gómez, M. V., & Álvarez, J. (2013). El cambio social en la era de la incertidumbre. Madrid: Talasa. Gray, J. (2000). Falso amanecer. Barcelona: Paidós. Hardt, M., & Negri, A. (2002). Imperio. Barcelona: Paídos. Held, D., Goldblatt, D., MacGrew, A., & Perraton, J., (1997). The Globalisation of Economic Activity. New Political Economy, 2(2), 257–278. Himmelfarb, G. (1999). Las ilusiones del cosmopolitismo, en M. Nussbaum, Los límites del patriotismo, identidad, pertenencia y ‘ciudadanía mundial’. Barcelona: Paidós. Hunter, J. D., & Yeats, J. (2002). In the Vanguard of Globalization: The World of American Globalizers. In P. L. Berger & S. P. Huntington (Eds.), Many Globalizations: Cultural Diversity in the Contemporary World (pp. 323–357). New York: Oxford. Huntington, S. (2005). El choque de civilizaciones. Barcelona: Paidós. Inglehart, R., & Welzel, R. (2006). Modernización, cambio cultural y democracia. Madrid: CIS. Ingram, J. D. (2013). Radical Cosmopolitics. New York: Columbia University Press. Kant, I. (2006 [1784]). Ideas para una historia universal en clave cosmopolita y otros escritos sobre filosofía de la historia (tercera edición). Madrid: Tecnos. Kanter, R. M. (1997). World Class. New York: Simon & Schuster. Lasch, C. (1995). La rebelión de las élites. http://www.nexos.com.mx/?cat=2954. Lilla, M. (2016, November 18). The End of Identity Liberalism. The New York Times. Mounk, Y. (2018). El pueblo contra la democracia. Barcelona: Paidós. Nussbaum, M. (1999). Los límites del patriotismo, identidad, pertenencia y ‘ciudadanía mundial’. Barcelona: Paidós.

3 Cosmopolitanism vs Identity and Belonging?

61

Nussbaum, M. (2013). Political Emotions: Why Love Matters for Justice (pp. 222–223). London: Cambridge Press. Obra Social La Caixa. (2015). Encuesta sobre. convivencia intercultural en el ámbito local. https://obrasociallacaixa.org/documents/10280/181359/ Encuesta+2015+sobre+convivencia+intercultural+en+el+%C3%A1mbito+ local.pdf/af428533-a991-4d61-8f10-e63e6402bfe9. Ohmae, K. (1995). The End of the Nation-State the Rise of Regional Economies. London: HarperCollins. Putnam, H. (1999). ¿Debemos escoger entre patriotismo y razón universal?, en M. Nussbaum, Los límites del patriotismo, identidad, pertenencia y ‘ciudadanía mundial’. Barcelona: Paidós. Rodrik, D. (2011). Las paradojas de la globalización. Barcelona: Antoni Bosch. Rodrik, D. (2018). Las dos amenazas contra la democracia liberal. Project Syndicate. https://www.project-syndicate.org/commentary/double-threat-toliberal-democracy-by-dani-rodrik-2018-02/spanish. Rorty, R. (1994, February 13). The Unpatriotic Academy. The New York Times. Rorty, R. (1999). Forjar nuestro país: el pensamiento de izquierdas en los Estados Unidos del siglo XX (p. 81). Barcelona: Paidós. Sandel, M. (2016). Lecciones de una revuelta populista. Expansion.com. http:// www.expansion.com/especiales/2016/asi-sera-el-anio/lecciones-revueltapopulista.html. Sen, A. (2007): Identidad y violencia. Madrid: Katz. Sennett, R. (1999). Growth and Failure: The New Political Economy and Its Culture. In M. Featherstone & S. Lash (Eds.), Spaces of Culture: City, Nation, World. London: Sage. Sennett, R. (2018). Building and Dwelling Ethics for the City. London: Allen Lane. Stiglitz, J. (2018). El malestar en la globalización. Madrid: Taurus. Taylor, C. (1999). Por qué la democracia necesita el patriotismo, en M. Nussbaum, Los límites del patriotismo, identidad, pertenencia y ‘ciudadanía mundial’. Barcelona: Paidós. Walzer, M. (1999): Esferas de afecto, en M. Nussbaum, Los límites del patriotismo, identidad, pertenencia y ‘ciudadanía mundial’. Barcelona: Paidós. World Values Survey. (2015). Crossings by Country (2010–2014), Study # 906WVS2010, v.2015.04.18. http://dagobah.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2017/ 01/M6-World-Values-Survey-2010-2014-WVS.pdf.

4 Digital Natives and Living in the City of the Future: Contradictions and Ambivalences Susanne Frank

How people will live, work, spend their leisure time, and be mobile in tomorrow’s cities is an issue that awakens the fantasy, creativity, and business acumen of scholars, (urban) planners, and entrepreneurs from a wide range of disciplines and sectors. Architects, real-estate developers, engineers, IT specialists, materials researchers, social scientists, and many others work on projects devoted to researching, developing, and implementing the living quarters, neighbourhoods, and infrastructures of the future—projects that are at times financially very well endowed and frequently inter- and transdisciplinary in nature. These projects often draw on work in trend research and/or futurology, which is devoted to identifying and evaluating current and new trends of societal development and assessing their future impact on urban development. Frequently at the centre of attention in this context are digital S. Frank (B) School of Spatial Planning, TU Dortmund University of Technology, Dortmund, Germany e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2020 M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al. (eds.), Inequality and Uncertainty, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1_4

63

64

S. Frank

natives, often referred to as generation Y and Z: youths and young adults who were born between 1980 and 2000 and have hence grown up and been socialised in the age of the Internet. These cohorts are perceived to be particularly relevant in the context of planning and shaping the future since it is assumed that they will make their imprint on tomorrow’s society to a much greater degree than other social groups. Against this backdrop, I will compare the images and ideas of life in the city of the future that have been developed in trend research and futurology with what social-scientific youth, generation, and milieu studies, as well as target-group surveys, have to say about current and future-related attitudes, value orientations, desires, and the needs of young people in Germany. In my review of these studies, I will focus on the areas of housing and living environments.1 This overview yields a surprising picture—it reveals that the desires and expectations digital natives express when imagining their future life and living arrangements are in sharp contrast, partly even diametrically opposed, to the scenarios that futurologists envision for this group. In the following, I will shed light on some of these inconsistencies that seem significant for the future development of cities and their neighbourhoods and offer some cautious thoughts on how such inconsistencies might be explained and assessed.

Trend Research and Futurology When it comes to the future development of our cities and urban housing, trend researchers and futurologists frequently choose the timeframe from 2025 to 2035. The issue is thus how we will be living in about ten to twenty years from now. The period under consideration therefore falls within the range of medium-term developments. Whereas trend research sets its eyes on a time horizon of five to ten years and frequently focuses on select 1A

German version of this essay was published in Rolf G. Heinze, Sebastian Kurtenbach, and Jan Üblacker (Eds.) Digitalisierung und Nachbarschaft, Nomos 2018. Since the article refers to discussions in Germany, a large part of the literature used is only available in German. Accordingly, the quotations from this literature are my own translations into English, which I do not point out separately for each individual citation.

4 Digital Natives and Living in the City of the Future …

65

lines of development, futurology claims to adopt a more comprehensive view of technical, economic, environmental, social, and cultural change as interconnected processes and thus to identify “megatrends” and explore their medium- to long-term impact. “Trends” are understood as “temporal patterns” that are projected upon—and, in so doing, serve to interpret—current events that are expected to extend into the future (Neuhaus 2017: 8). In this understanding, the task of trend research is to identify signs of change, interpret their meaning, and predict further developments. Knowledge of trends unfolds, disseminates, and becomes established knowledge via media and specialist communication: “We usually do not see trends; we talk about them” (Neuhaus 2017: 9). To the extent that statements about trends strike a chord and are widely discussed—and thus seem plausible—they can congeal into “images of the future,” which may guide individuals, companies, policymakers, public administrations, or other organisations in their planning and decision-making (see Neuhaus 2017: 8). Involved in the construction of such trends are, apart from academic trend research and futurology, the “foresight departments” of many large corporations, numerous policy and business consultancy agencies, and of course the authors of trend literature. The latter in particular frequently draw blistering criticism from academic futurology because of their often questionable methodological approaches (e.g., Rust 2009; Popp 2012: 15). Yet if we consider that trends and images of the future are created in communication and through communication affect what people do, then we must concede that the flashy, catchy images and texts created by commercial trend researchers, regardless of their scientific quality, play a major part in attracting attention to such trends and popularising them. Referring to urban development planning, Hutter (2017: 31) has reported that these authors have some success in drawing the attention even of such actors who take an otherwise more distanced stance toward specialist academic analyses. For these reasons, I will not concern myself with the question of which results and forecasts of trend research and futurology meet scientific standards, but will include materials in this review that have been labelled as “trend” or “futurological research” on “living in the city of the future” and have drawn attention and been discussed in the media and/or specialist circles.

66

S. Frank

Living in the City of the Future What we see when we direct our attention to recent statements predicting trends, to forward-looking visions, or practical future-related projects in urban development or housing is that there are some major differences but also some general agreement in what is considered to be the basic lines of development in urban housing. Let me give a brief outline of the latter.2 In 2030—which for reasons of simplicity will serve as my year of reference—cities will be even more attractive places for living than they are today. In the wake of ever-advancing individualisation, the number of one- and two- person households will increase and with it the pressure on housing markets. In most cities, land and housing will be scarce. For reasons of affordability and space alone, there will be a need to experiment with new forms of densified housing. Adding to this is ever-progressing and accelerating socio-cultural change. People will be highly mobile. They will frequently move from one workplace, residence, and partner to the next while adapting their lifestyles according to their particular phase of life. Most adults will live alone, which does not mean that they will be lonely. Family will remain important but will fundamentally change in meaning. People will still live in family networks consisting of parents, siblings, and children, but distant relatives, friends, or neighbours may also occupy significant positions therein. “Although family solidarity and closeness are still a fundamental part of the image of the ideal family, they are no longer interpreted primarily along spatial lines in our day and age marked by mobility,” says the study by the Zukunftsinstitut (Future Institute; Zukunftsinstitut 2013: 21). Thus, one’s form of housing will “no longer be linked to the family but to one’s individual lifestyle” (Zukunftsinstitut 2013: 21; Opaschowski 2013: 452ff.). In the same way that the traditional nuclear family will have outlived itself, so will the single-family home as its classic residence. What we will see instead is an increasing development towards tiny apartments or 2The

following discussion draws primarily on Bullinger and Röthlein (2012), Deutsches MesseFernsehen (2011), Fraunhofer-Gesellschaft (2012, n.d.), GdW (2013), Hiscox Ltd (2015), HAW (2011), Illhardt (2015), Maas (2012), nzzcampusvideos (2011), Opaschowski (2013), Ruff (2015), Strathern and Horx (n.d.), and Zukunftsinstitut (2013).

4 Digital Natives and Living in the City of the Future …

67

small-space urban living. “Minimalism” will be a major trend (Hiscox Ltd 2015). Housing units will shrink to the size of some 30 square metres (approx. 320 square feet). This downsizing will be made possible by limiting “private living space to the individually essential and the necessary daily functions of housing”, while other functions will simply be “outsourced” (Zukunftsinstitut 2013: 31; Braun 2018). As needed, personal living space will be extended into public and semi-public spaces. In the Zukunftsinstitut ’s terminology (inspired by Ray Oldenburg), this is called “third place living” (2013: 27, 88ff.). “Third places” will therefore become major components of housing: “Network culture resides in a decentralised fashion” (Zukunftsinstitut 2013: 30). The dissolution of the boundaries between work, leisure, and mobility will advance, and these different spheres will fluidly blend into one another. Large parts of the urban population will live in a permanent state of “transit” (Ruff 2015). Cafés, parks, and other public spaces will become temporary offices—as will public and (the remaining few) private means of transportation, which will chauffeur their passengers fully automatically to where they want to go. Those who need regular space for a while will rent co-working spaces that they will share with others. People will go out to eat instead of eating at home so that they will require no more than a kitchenette in their dwellings. When inviting friends for dinner, they will rent an external kitchen for an evening. Clubs, lounges, or people’s favourite bar will replace their living room and the wellness centre, their own bathtub (Zukunftsinstitut 2013: 31, 94; Braun 2018). As books, pictures, and movies will come to exist only in digitised form, there will no longer be any need for storage space: dusty shelves will be a relic of the past (Hiscox Ltd 2015). Smaller dwellings will thus not necessarily equate to less living space—quite the contrary (Zukunftsinstitut 2013: 95). The restricted ability to do things within one’s own four walls will be compensated, as needed, by turning to said third places or service providers (Zukunftsinstitut 2013: 40). Housing and the household of the future is thus portrayed as a flexible, temporary, and decentralised network comprising private, semi-public, and public spaces and places. A consequence is that the residential environment (the immediate and wider neighbourhood, the district) will gain major significance.

68

S. Frank

The futurologists proposing this scenario trace the pace at which these developments are supposed to prevail to socialisation processes in the age of the Internet. The generations that will be most influential in forming the structures of future society, digital natives, have an affinity for technology, have always pursued a lifestyle that transcends the traditional boundaries of space and time, and do not distinguish between real and virtual worlds. Moreover, through their exposure to social media, they have imbibed and internalised the principles of networking, sharing, and trading from their infancy. In this scenario, the principles of sharing, and hence shared consumption, are transferred to the urban worlds of living and lifestyles: “Sharing is the new way of having” (Roesner 2015, see also, GdW 2013: 7f.; Zukunftsinstitut 2013: 31). Accordingly, it will no longer be the individual possession of a kitchen, car, bicycle, or yard that matters but whether these resources are available, easily accessible, and can be jointly used as desired and needed. Rental, sharing, lending, and trading options will save money, space, and time and enhance urbanites’ mobility, independence, and flexibility (Ruff 2015). In this vein, the motto reflecting future living will be “change, not stasis” (Zukunftsinstitut 2013: 49). There are quite a few objections that can—and must—be raised against some of the futurology studies cited here. Chief among those objections are their methodological obscurity and uncritical fascination with technology. It is in the nature of commercial trend research that many of these studies are written with the objective of illuminating new areas of commercial exploitation. Hence, it comes as no surprise that the world that they describe is populated primarily by peaceful, healthy, and solvent consumers. Such accounts might strike the reader as rather disconcerting in light of today’s rising populism, coarsening of political discourse and social behaviour, tendencies towards exclusion, and intensification of social polarisation and inequality in cities in particular. Labouring the point somewhat, one might say that the only problem that the oft-cited study by the Zukunftsinstitut touches upon is the helplessness of an individual who forgot his or her smartphone at home (2013: 64). That said, these studies—which are often disparaged from the ranks of academia as “superficial” or “tabloidesque”—are nevertheless especially interesting in my context here for two reasons: first, because they draw a great deal of publicity and thus set the tone of public discourse. Second, because for this

4 Digital Natives and Living in the City of the Future …

69

very reason they build a bridge to many practical projects, funded both by the private and the public sector, in which much work is already being invested today in making potential urban and housing futures a reality. The pictures painted of the future thus often serve as roadmaps that provide guidance in shaping the future. They thus become the “premises” that orient today’s decision-making, planning, and action (Neuhaus 2017: 9). For this reason, specifically, I think it should be particularly interesting to contrast them with studies that have a different focus and, in important respects, come to very different conclusions.

Lifeworlds, Attitudes, and Housing Preferences of Digital Natives In the following, I will therefore focus on prominent surveys from the social sciences and target-group surveys from market research that are concerned with the lifeworlds, general and housing-related attitudes, values, expectations, and hopes of those generations that will be putting their stamp on society by the year 2030 and for this reason are at the centre of attention in trend and future scenarios. In essence, we are talking about today’s 15- to 35-year-olds, whom I will, for the sake of brevity, refer to as “young adults.” Digital natives, often also called “millennials” or “generations Y and Z,” are probably the most frequently surveyed, researched, and discussed cohort in recent history. From the wealth of work on this issue, I have selected those contributions that can claim to be representative and provide transparent information on their empirical foundations.3 3 Essentially, these are the 17th Shell youth study (Albert et al. 2015), Sinus u18 study (Sinus-Institut

2012), Forsa “Generation Neon 2014” study (von Kittlitz and Moorstedt 2014), TimeScout trend studies (Heinzlmaier 2007), studies by the Konrad-Adenauer Foundation on political attitudes among youths and young adults (Pokorny 2013; Hoffmann and Pokorny 2014), Hamburg Media School’s digital natives study (Haller 2015), the 2016 value-index study (Werte-Index 2016; Wippermann and Krüger 2015), Forsa Zukunft der Familie study (2015; Future of the Family), the study by Ernst & Young “Wie will die junge Generation in der Zukunft wohnen? ” (EY 2015; “How Does the Young Generation Want to Live in the Future?”), and the master-programme study project “Wohnsituation und Wohnwünsche junger Erwachsener ” (M-Projekt 2014; “Housing Situation and Housing Preferences of Young Adults”).

70

S. Frank

The picture painted of these young adults in these works inspired by very different knowledge interests is surprisingly unanimous: “Traditional,” “bourgeois,” “conservative” are adjectives that are used with especial frequency to describe the attitudinal patterns among this age group. Enjoying wide currency among them are values such as security, a sense of obligation, family and friendship, respect, or a sense of local rootedness. These traditional values are combined with an individualistic ethos and partly also with hedonistic, ego-centric values of self-realisation (Sinus-Institut 2012). These young adults are largely self-confident and pragmatic and have an optimistic view of their own future. Their motivation to live up to the meritocratic standards of society is extremely high, but they also feel great pressure to perform. Even adolescents are already keenly aware “that the value of a human being is first and foremost measured in terms of its potential for achievement or its educational career” (Sinus-Institut 2012, see also Heinzlmaier 2007). Social advancement is no longer the goal; maintaining one’s status is a big enough task. “A person’s job should be secure and allow one to live reasonably well, but it should also be possible to experience it as a selfdetermined and socially useful activity” (Albert et al. 2015: 13). Work–life balance is a major issue among this group. The vast majority of young adults display a pronounced desire for an orderly social environment and stable social relationships in their private sphere (Albert et al. 2015: 13; Pokorny 2013). Rapid technological and social change accompanied by numerous societal crises, increasingly fuels an enormous longing for stability, belonging, and reassurance (Rheingold Institut 2010; Bak/ots 2014; Sinus-Institut 2012). In this context, the family ranks highest in significance. According to a study of life courses up to young adulthood, youths, “who otherwise like to lay claim to their rebelliousness,” state that their primary goal in life is “starting a family of their own” (Battaglia 2011). A Forsa study (2016) observes that an amazing 92% of young adults want to have (or already have) children. “Children welcome: 75 per cent already have or are planning to have offspring,” writes Haller (2015, see also M-Projekt 2014; Albert et al. 2015). To realise this goal, some three-quarters of young adults wish to live in marriage or a quasi-marital relationship (Forsa-Studie 2016; EY

4 Digital Natives and Living in the City of the Future …

71

2015; Haller 2015). The model envisioned here is that of a two- or threegenerational family under one roof. Other family models are favoured only by very few (Forsa-Studie 2016: 18f.). The 2016 value-index study (Werte-Index 2016 ), which conducted a content analysis of 5.7 million social media posts, also highlighted, as a particularly striking trend, a tendency to seek refuge in one’s own personal and familial sphere. The authors speak of “digital Biedermeierism” (Trendbüro and TNS Infratest 2015).4 They see the users’ foremost desire as being the ability to shape their “own small world” as autonomously as possible and, in so doing, to experience the support of their own group. What we are witnessing as a result of this, the authors argue, is that network society is increasingly disintegrating into like-minded communities that act as “echo chambers” reassuring one another (Wippermann cited in Menkens 2015). These value orientations and desires are reflected in housing preferences and needs. For most of these young people, the most suitable living arrangement for life in the nuclear family continues to be the single-family home, twin home, or terraced house in the green surroundings (M-Projekt 2014; Bak/ots 2014; EY 2015). This is imagined as a place of spatial copresence, where family members spend as much time together as possible. Especially favoured is owning one’s own home: For 90% of the participants in the EY study, it is “important” or “rather important” to live in their own condominium or house. Ninety per cent would also like to have green spaces or parks right at their doorstep. Ninety-two per cent state that it is (rather) important that the inside of their home is visible neither to passers-by nor their neighbours. The participants express little interest in smart homes and digital innovations to support daily tasks but rather in energy efficiency and safety technology. They would like their home to be the same size or larger than 4The term refers to “the particular mood and set of trends” that is associated with the “Biedermeier” period in Central Europe between 1815 and 1848, namely the emphasis on the domestic and the non-political. In this vein, the 2010 Shell youth study also used the term “Generation Biedermeier” to point out that “for the mainstream of the younger generation (…), (s)ecurity and private happiness were more important than political engagement” (Wikipedia; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ Biedermeier).

72

S. Frank

the one in which they grew up. Only seven per cent would prefer to downsize in the future. Sharing living space, in a communal living arrangement, for instance, is unattractive to 84% of the respondents. They prefer to live in an urban environment but rather in cities and towns of more manageable sizes (49%) and not necessarily in metropolises such as Berlin, Hamburg, Cologne, or Munich (which only 22% favour). But even the latter prioritise living in a quiet neighbourhood (90%). Overall, densified housing is not very popular (8%). Living in a neighbourhood marked by an active nightlife and a socially mixed population also fails to appeal to a large majority as does unusual architecture (all data from EY 2015). “Generation ‘Y’ are much squarer than their parents” is how the Handelsblatt, a German business newspaper, headlined its summary of the results of the EY survey (Reichel 2015). These findings correspond with the results of our own (not representative) surveys, conducted together with master’s students, on the housing situation and housing preferences of vocational and university students. They, too, clearly underscore the tremendous significance of the family (M-Projekt 2014, 2017). During education and training, the large majority of the young adults surveyed enjoy living in the city and can imagine continuing to do so when beginning their careers. In the future (in their mid-thirties), the vast majority desire to become parents and live in a suburban family home outside of the city (M-Projekt 2014). Figure 4.1 visualises the results of a qualitative semi-standardised survey of 42 randomly selected men and women between 18 and 25 who are (at that time) enrolled as students at Dortmund universities. They have different fields of study and places of origin. The thickness of the lines describes the frequency with which the path is named. The graph also illustrates the large extent to which these housing preferences are shaped by the individual’s own social background and housing experience.5

5 In

our small study we did not find any differences in attitudes according to ethnic background, social status or gender. The other studies do not report such differences either.

4 Digital Natives and Living in the City of the Future …

73

Fig. 4.1 The survey participants’ (N = 42) past, current, and desired future living environments (Source M-Projekt [2014], Group 1 [The members of this group, and authors of this graph, were Franziska Brinkmann, Anja Konschak, Johannes Pickert, Jonas Sonntag, Mona Spiza, and Fabian Stroh])

Contradictions as an Expression of Ambivalences What we can see in the data presented so far is a huge gap between the predicted trends that are (according to trend researchers) supposed to define housing and living in the future and the social and housing-related attitudes (as identified by social-scientific surveys) among the age cohorts that are supposed to be the major agents of these developments. Of all groups, those generations in particular that are said to increasingly subscribe to the shared economy, travel the whole world from their couch or by turning to Airbnb, rent power tools and cars, listen to streamed music, and disclose their entire private life on social media are the ones who are particularly strongly inclined to seek the shelter and protection of the family within their own four walls. What shall we make of this picture that seems so highly contradictory at first glance? Are the futurologists completely on the wrong track? Or are the desires and expectations of young adults naïve and unrealistic?

74

S. Frank

In my view, the answer should be that both are true. Or (also correct): neither one nor the other. In other words, both sides articulate powerful social trends that also affect housing, and which can only be understood in relation to one another. Only once both sides are considered together do we obtain a comprehensive, realistic picture that can help us understand current trends in the housing market, as I will show below. My proposal is this: The younger generation’s longing for family, community, security, and stability is so strong precisely because some of the global megatrends on which the futurologists base their predictions on are indeed very powerful and impactful and, for this very reason, provoke in many a strong sense of unease and attendant desire for protection. And this is certainly the case not only but also, and particularly so, among young adults. I interpret the fact that the two future scenarios are diametrically opposed to being a consequence of each scenario accentuating one side of developments that young adults experience as extremely ambivalent. As we all know, individualisation, for instance, implies that we are free to pursue a life of our own making—at the same time, we are relentlessly compelled to do so. In the same vein, having choices between multiple options can be experienced as an opportunity but also as absolutely overwhelming—as the agony of choice. Likewise, the temporal and spatial dissolution of the boundaries between work and leisure promises greater self-determination in everyday life on the one hand; on the other, expectations of being constantly available and mobile at all times is a considerable source of pressure and stress for many. High-performance standards, growing competitive pressure, the permanent imperative of self-optimisation, and, along with all this, the fear of failure are a heavy burden on many (in pointed terms, Schley 2016; Wizorek 2015). Thus, as early as young adulthood, many experience today’s world not necessarily as hostile but definitely as demanding and exhausting. This is the source of the desire for peace and quiet, for refuge in stable relationships. And this desire has its place: the home, which is at the centre of one’s “own small world.” This home is in no way envisioned as a control centre from which to masterfully embark on the ventures of a fast-moving, flexible, networked, mobile, multilocal life but rather as an emotional anchor and refuge that shields one against the demands of exactly this kind of life. Generations Y and Z show little inclination to fundamentally question the

4 Digital Natives and Living in the City of the Future …

75

demands with which they are faced or even go as far as to rebel against them. For them, the home is conceived as the world of the familiar, a place of refuge, and definitely not a place of resistance against the performance demands of flexible capitalism. It is rather a shelter and base to which one can return to recharge one’s batteries and maintain one’s functioning. Against this backdrop, the futurologists’ scenario according to which future living means “change, not stasis” is not particularly promising but sounds more like a threat. An astonishing 60% of 15- to 35-year-olds lament “that everything changes so rapidly today that you can hardly to keep up anymore.” This figure is almost as high as the one observed among older cohorts (Holstein and Siems 2016; Pokorny 2013: 20). I thus argue that the contradictory picture that is contrasting the two scenarios of housing and living in the future yields must be interpreted as an expression of a deep ambivalence in how young adults perceive and experience the prevailing societal trends.

Negotiation and Compromise So far, I have primarily addressed digital natives’ future-directed housing preferences and needs. Of course, harbouring wishes for the future does not necessarily always involve the expectation that things will work out exactly that way. Quite the contrary. Clearly attesting to this is the legacy survey by Die ZEIT, a German news weekly: In a range of items across the survey, the respondents (of all ages, not just young adults) assessed the likelihood as (very) low that what they perceived as being reasonable and desirable in the future would actually come true. This distinction between desirable and actual future also surfaced in their responses to the question as to what extent their dwelling should be a place of stability (the desirable) and actually will be a place of stability (realistic forecast of the future to come). In tune with all the studies mentioned above, there was wide agreement that this would indeed be desirable (some 70%). At the same time, less than 20% of the respondents think it is likely, in light of increasing demands for mobility and flexibility, that they will actually have the desired stable home sometime in the future (Wetzel 2016). Hence, there clearly is a huge gap between wishes and actual expectations.

76

S. Frank

This underlines the fact that the digital natives—as all generations before—must pragmatically negotiate the requirements of society on the one hand and individual and collective (housing) preferences and needs on the other. This process involves making (sometimes painful) compromises and concessions. I believe that precisely the expectations that emerge in this process have an impact on (strategic) urban development, specifically on the shape of the city and its real-estate and housing market. For expectations are not without effects, as van Driessche et al. (2017: 14f.) also emphasise, but “as statements about the future, (…) actually do something. They create a new or adjusted reality. As such they are fundamentally generative.” They become inscribed in the city of the future, which is already being built today. My impression is that we can already clearly discern signs of the expected future scenarios taking effect. We can interpret the new secluded settlements of single-family homes that are mushrooming within the limits and on the outskirts of many large German cities, primarily on previous wasteland, as an expression of the housing preferences of young adults outlined above—with designs fitted to accommodate the changed gender relations and new working conditions of the flexible economy (Frank 2013). Similar to the traditional suburbs, these new family enclaves are in physical proximity to the city, yet mentally and socio-morally worlds apart (Frank 2003: 297). Their characteristic features are single-family homes (often townhouses) with a (small) yard, family-centredness, socio-economic and cultural homogeneity, emphasis on privacy and community, seclusion from the city, and protection from the dangers and imponderabilities of city life, such as unfamiliar lifestyles and contingency. They represent the mass transfer of housing preferences and needs that were once defined as suburban to within the cities and now find expression in a new form of urban development (Frank 2013). Recently, there have been interpretations, and plausibly so, that those gentrification processes (observed in Berlin) go back to the former pioneers themselves (frequently former university students) turning into gentrifiers upon establishing their careers (and thus gentrifying neighbourhoods from within and not primarily by outsiders moving in) are an expression of the desire of those around the age of thirty for stability and a sense of local

4 Digital Natives and Living in the City of the Future …

77

rootedness. For fear of being displaced from their established neighbourhoods by skyrocketing rents, those who can afford it acquire property there (Hägler 2016). At first glance, the fact that the construction and letting of tiny, fully furnished apartments of about 20 square metres (215 square feet) is currently booming (Haimann 2013; Ochs 2016) seems to correspond perfectly well with the futurologists’ forecasts. For developers, constructing buildings with tiny apartments is especially lucrative in university towns with tight housing and a dynamic labour market. Their residents are wellto-do students, multilocal commuters, and “modern work nomads.” At a second glance, however, it would seem to be misconceived to interpret this large demand as affirming a “trend toward downsizing” or as representing a positively connotated conception of life. What this second glance reveals is rather that the popularity of small living quarters is predicated on this “living in a box” (Ochs 2016) being a temporary or interim arrangement and that there exists either a more spacious dwelling somewhere else (multilocal commuters), or there is the prospect of one in the near future (students). As for the articulated housing preferences of digital natives, I therefore agree with Philip Oswalt that we would be mistaken to “sell a minimalist spatial scheme as pioneering the housing of tomorrow” (cited in Ochs 2016). My impression is that those who are commercially and practically involved in the “living in the city of the future” business also have a pretty good idea of the preferences and needs of their target groups. The clear sign that I see for this is that the pioneers of smart living in the future, obviously and deliberately, aim to package their progressive, intelligent prototypes in extremely conventional wrappings. When we look for model images of and model buildings for smart living, we encounter almost exclusively traditional suburban-style single-family homes. The carbon-neutral “Model Home 2020” developed by Velux is a typical 1950s-settlement-style house that has been converted to a zero-energy building. The first energy-selfsufficient house in Germany, erected in Freiberg in Saxony, is a stand-alone suburban single-family home with 162 square metres (1744 square feet) of living space (Osadnik 2014). The Fraunhofer Society has also been experimenting with a smart home that is expressly not intended to look futuristic or avant-garde but like a “normal building” (Maas 2012).

78

S. Frank

I want to conclude by citing a particularly telling example, which comes with a deeply ironic twist. Of all people, Oona Strathern and her husband Matthias Horx, whose Zukunftsinstitut (Future Institute) is responsible for the most frequently cited study, also in this text, on the future of living, built their “Future Evolution House,” “the house for living and working in the twenty-first century,” on a lot of 4500 square metres (48,400 square feet) on the outskirts of Vienna. The house has 180 square metres (1940 square feet) of living space and 120 square metres (1300 square feet) of working space in two different structures, to separate home and work (Strathern and Horx n.d.).

Conclusion In my chapter, I have carved out the great discrepancies between the images that professional trend researchers paint of living and dwelling in the city of tomorrow and the pictures that the crucial inhabitants of this future city, i.e. digital natives, draw of their future lives. One essential finding is that the future lives the millennials imagine for themselves are not necessarily conceived of as urban-based, and, when they are, certainly not as urban. On the contrary: A majority of young adults feel particularly attracted to the forms of housing and living and the social norms and values traditionally associated with suburban life. I have interpreted this longing for a retreat into the spheres of privacy and security as a reaction to the pressures to perform to which young adults—who are nonetheless completely satisfied and at peace with the existing social system—often feel exposed. As I have tried to show, in many places these desires are already inscribing themselves into current urban development. It would be easy to dismiss these developments as just another expression of the proverbial “German angst”, a notion that tries to capture the relatively greater worries and anxieties with which Germans are said to react to actual or imminent social change. My study’s focus was exclusively on the German situation. The question as to whether its results

4 Digital Natives and Living in the City of the Future …

79

only describe the particular German situation or are transferable to other countries can only be answered within the framework of an international comparative study.

References Albert, M., et al. (2015). Jugend 2015: 17. Shell-Jugendstudie. Frankfurt am Main: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag. Bak/ots. (2014). Forsa-Studie zu jungen Deutschen: Selbst-bewusst, konservativ und ziemlich glücklich. Stern. https://www.stern.de/familie/leben/ forsa-studie-zu-jungen-deutschen-selbstbewusst–konservativ-und-ziemlichgluecklich-3623166.html. Accessed 14 December 2018. Battaglia, C. (2011). Sehnsuchtsort Familie. Wireltern. https://www.wireltern. ch/artikel/sehnsuchtsort-familie. Accessed 14 December 2018. Braun, S. (2018). Wie werden unsere Städte in der Zukunft aussehen? In J. Lembke (Ed.), Gläserne Menschen in Filterblasen. Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung. https://www.faz.net/aktuell/wirtschaft/wohnen/was-aendertsich-in-der-stadt-der-zukunft-15454555-p2.html. Accessed 14 December 2018. Bullinger, H., & Röthlein, B. (2012). Morgenstadt: Wie wir morgen leben: Lösungen für das urbane Leben der Zukunft. München: Carl Hanser Verlag. Deutsches Messe-Fernsehen. (2011). Vernetztes Wohnen – ein Blick in das Haus der Zukunft. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qhS0k8fEcd4. Accessed 14 December 2018. EY (= Ernst & Young) Real Estate. (2015). Wie will die junge Generation in der Zukunft wohnen? http://www.ey.com/Publication/vwLUAssets/EY-REWie-will-die-junge-Generation-in_der-Zukunft-wohnen/$FILE/EY-REWie-will-die-junge-Generation-in%20der-Zukunft-wohnen.pdf. Accessed 14 December 2018. Forsa Politik- und Sozialforschung GmbH. (2015). Zukunft der Familie. Einschätzungen von 18- bis 30-Jährigen. Berlin. Forsa Politik- und Sozialforschung GmbH. (2016). Zukunft der Familie. Einschätzungen von 18- bis 30-Jährigen. Studie im Auftrag der Zeitschrift ELTERN. http://vaeter-ggmbh.de/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/ zukunft-der-familie-studie-2016-Eltern.pdf. Accessed 14 December 2018.

80

S. Frank

Frank, S. (2003). Stadtplanung im Geschlechterkampf: Stadt und Geschlecht in der Großstadtentwicklung des 19. und 20. Jahrhunderts. Opladen: Leske & Budrich. Frank, S. (2013). Innere Suburbanisierung? Mittelschichteltern in den neuen innerstädtischen Familienenklaven. In Kronauer, M. & Siebel, W. (Ed.), Polarisierte Städte. Soziale Ungleichheit als Herausforderung für die Stadtpolitik (pp. 69–89). Frankfurt and New York: Campus Verlag. Fraunhofer-Gesellschaft. (2012). Die Stadt von Morgen – die Morgenstadt. http:// www.fraunhofer.de/content/dam/zv/de/forschungsthemen/Morgenstadt/ Morgenstadt.pdf. Accessed 14 December 2018. Fraunhofer-Gesellschaft. (n.d.). Auf dem Weg zur Morgenstadt. Wie wollen wir in der Stadt von morgen leben und arbeiten? http://www.morgenstadt.de/de/ morgenstadt-initiative.html. Accessed 14 December 2018. GdW Bundesverband Deutscher Wohnungs- und Immobilienunternehmen e.V. (2013). Wohntrends 2030. Studie. http://web.gdw.de/uploads/pdf/ publikationen/GdW_Branchenbericht_2013_Endfassung.pdf. Accessed 14 December 2018. Hägler, M. (2016). Türschlusspanik. Süddeutsche Zeitung. https://www. sueddeutsche.de/leben/immobilienkaeufer-tuerschlusspanik-1.2816919. Accessed 14 December 2018. Haimann, R. (2013). Geschäft mit Mini-Wohnungen boomt. Welt N24. https:// www.welt.de/finanzen/article123041711/Geschaeft-mit-Mini-Wohnungenboomt.html. Accessed 18 December 2013. Haller, M. (2015). Was wollt ihr eigentlich? Die schöne neue Welt der Generation Y. Hamburg: Murmann. Heinzlmaier, B. (2007). Jugend unter Druck. https://www.tfactory.com/media/ orig/Leistungsdruck.pdf. Accessed 14 December 2018. Hiscox Ltd. (2015). The Hiscox Home of the Future Report. London: Future Foundation. Hochschule für Angewandte Wissenschaften Hamburg - Department Informatik. (2011). Intelligentes Wohnen: Neuer Living-Place an der HAW Hamburg. https://idw-online.de/de/news?print=1&id=447371. Accessed 14 December 2018. Hoffmann, E., & Pokorny, S. (2014). Wie tickt die Jugend? KonradAdenauer-Stiftung (Ed.), Analysen und Argumente, Ausgabe 139. https:// www.kas.de/c/document_library/get_file?uuid=339c4085-056c-9df5-d518fb8eeaec18fb&groupId=252038. Accessed 14 December 2018. Holstein, M., & Siems, D. (2016). So bürgerlich tickt die deutsche Jugend. Welt N24. https://www.welt.de/politik/deutschland/article116946779/Sobuergerlich-tickt-die-deutsche-Jugend.html. Accessed 14 December 2018.

4 Digital Natives and Living in the City of the Future …

81

Hutter, G. (2017). Wie Trendanalysen die strategische Planung unterstützen. Informationen Zur Raumentwicklung, 5, 28–31. Illhardt, J. (2015). So sieht das Badezimmer der Zukunft aus. Welt N24. https://www.welt.de/finanzen/immobilien/article138400827/So-sieht-dasBadezimmer-der-Zukunft-aus.html?wtrid=socialmedia.email.sharebutton. Accessed 14 December 2018. Maas, S. (2012). Wohnen in der Zukunft. Deutschlandfunk Archives. http://www. deutschlandfunk.de/wohnen-in-der-zukunft.724.de.html?dram:article_id= 216872. Accessed 14 December 2018. Menkens, S. (2015). Die Deutschen werden körperlicher und engagierter. Welt N24. https://www.welt.de/politik/deutschland/article149010891/DieDeutschen-werden-koerperlicher-und-engagierter.html. Accessed 14 December 2018. M-Projekt. (2014). Wohnsituation und Wohnwünsche junger Erwachsener. MasterStudy-Project at the Faculty of Spatial Planning, TU Dortmund. Final Reports of three part groups (unpublished). TU Dortmund: Faculty of Spatial Planning. M-Projekt. (2017). Wie möchten, wie werden Sie leben? Die Digital Natives und die Zukunft des Wohnens. Master-Study-Project at the Faculty of Spatial Planning, TU Dortmund. Final Reports of two part groups (unpublished). TU Dortmund: Faculty of Spatial Planning. Neuhaus, C. (2017). Der Trend als Werkzeug. Gebrauchsanleitung für ein Instrument der strategischen Beobachtung. Informationen zur Raumentwicklung, 5, 6–18. Nzzcampusvideos. (2011). Das iHomeLab der Hochschule Luzern. https://www. youtube.com/watch?v=W6TK0cEpHVQ&nohtml5=False. Accessed 14 December 2018. Ochs, B. (2016). Trend Mikroapartments: Leben in der Box. Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung. http://www.faz.net/aktuell/wirtschaft/immobilien/trendmikroapartments-leben-in-der-box-14451564.html. Accessed 14 December 2018. Opaschowski, H. W. (2013). Deutschland 2030: Wie wir in Zukunft leben. Gütersloh and München: Gütersloher Verlagshaus. Osadnik, S. (2014). Wohnen der Zukunft: Das erste Haus, das ohne Stromanschluss auskommt. Welt N24. https://www.welt.de/finanzen/immobilien/ article123532874/Das-erste-Haus-das-ohne-Stromanschluss-auskommt. html. Accessed 14 December 2018. Pokorny, S. (2013). Wo bitte geht‘s zum Generationenkonflikt? Politische Einstellungen Jugendlicher und junger Erwachsener in Deutschland.

82

S. Frank

Konrad-Adenauer-Stiftung. http://www.kas.de/wf/doc/kas_34554-544-1-30. pdf. Accessed 14 December 2018. Popp, R. (2012). Zukunftsforschung auf dem Prüfstand. In R. Popp (Ed.), Zukunft und Wissenschaft: Wege und Irrwege der Zukunftsforschung. Berlin, Heidelberg: Springer. Reichel, R. (2015). Wohnen in der Zukunft. Generation „Y“ ist spießiger als ihre Eltern. Handelsblatt. https://www.handelsblatt.com/finanzen/ immobilien/wohnen-in-der-zukunft-generation-y-ist-spiessiger-als-ihreeltern-/12566830.html?ticket=ST-519696-rsfCID0knIt7Hn0tTFtr-ap4. Accessed 14 December 2018. Rheingold Institut. (2010). Sehnsucht „Familie“. Presentation created for: WDR Lokalzeit. Düsseldorf. Roesner, A. (2015). Thesen zur Zukunft des Wohnens. https://www.houzz.de/ ideabooks/52911961/list/megatrends-9-thesen-zur-zukunft-des-wohnens. Accessed 14 December 2018. Ruff, F. (2015). Die Zukunft der Mobilität beginnt heute. Fahrzeuge und Mobilitätskonzepte müssen sich an neue Bedürfnisse anpassen. Polis Magazin Für Urban Development, 4, 60–63. Rust, H. (2009). Verkaufte Zukunft. Strategien und Inhalte der kommerziellen „Trendforscher“. In R. Popp & E. Schüll (Ed.), Zukunftsforschung und Zukunftsgestaltung: Beiträge aus Wissenschaft und Praxis (pp. 3–16). Berlin and Heidelberg: Springer. Schley, F. (2016). In der Unruhe liegt die Kraft. Die Zeit. http://www.zeit. de/freitext/2016/12/29/in-der-unruhe-liegt-die-kraft/. Accessed 14 December 2018. Sinus-Institut. (2012). Wie ticken Jugendliche? Lebenswelten von Jugendlichen im Alter von 14 bis 17 Jahren in Deutschland. https://www.sinus-akademie. de/fileadmin/user_files/Presse/SINUS-Jugendstudie_u18_2012/%C3% 96ffentlicher_Foliensatz_Sinus-Jugendstudie_u18.pdf. Accessed 14 December 2018. Strathern, O., & Horx, M. (n.d.). The Future Evolution House Vienna. Ein Projekt für das Bauen und Wohnen der Zukunft. Wien. http://www.horx.com/ Downloads/Future-Evolution-House.pdf. Accessed 14 December 2016. Trendbüro, & TNS Infratest. (2015). Werte-Index 2016: Gesundheit, Freiheit und Erfolg bleiben den Deutschen am wichtigsten, die Sehnsucht nach Natur und Sicherheit steigt. https://www.tns-infratest.com/presse/pdf/Presse/201511-18_werte_index-2016.pdf. Accessed 14 December 2018. Van Driessche, R., Ache, P., & Lagendijk, A. (2017). Dissecting the Urban(ized) Binoculars. ‘Looking at’ Urban Futures. Aesop Conference Paper. https://

4 Digital Natives and Living in the City of the Future …

83

www.researchgate.net/publication/321832970_Dissecting_the_urbanized_ binoculars_Looking_at_urban_futures. Accessed 14 December 2018. von Kittlitz, A., & Moorstedt, T. (2014). Die Stimmen einer Generation. Neon. http://www.stern.de/neon/magazin/politik/politik-die-stimmen-einergeneration-7185974.html. Accessed 14 December 2018. Wetzel, J. (2016). In Zukunft mobil. Wie wollen wir wohnen und arbeiten? Die Angst vor dem Abstieg entzweit die Deutschen. Die Zeit. https://www.zeit.de/2016/45/sozialer-abstieg-angst-armut-deutschlandvermaechtnis-studie. Accessed 14 December 2018. Wippermann, P., & Krüger, J. (2015). Werte-Index 2016. Frankfurt am Main: Deutscher Fachverlag. Wizorek, A. (2015). Generation Müsy. In M. Haller (Ed.),Was wollt ihr eigentlich? Die schöne neue Welt der Generation Y (pp. 62–70). Hamburg: Murmann. Zukunftsinstitut GmbH. (2013). Zukunft des Wohnens – Die zentralen Trends bis 2025. Kelkheim: Zukunfstinst.

Part II Revisiting Social Change and Gentrification

5 “Fear, Disgust and Dignity”: The Securitisation of Everyday Life and the New Revanchism Against the Urban Subaltern in a Working-Class Area of Madrid Begoña Aramayona

Introduction Over the last three decades, media and academia alike have addressed urban (in)security as an increasingly worrying social concern. Many scholars have highlighted the relationship between the rise of neoliberal urbanism and the emergence of an increasingly “punitive turn” in post-industrial cities all over the world (Bonelli 2015; Wacquant 1993, 2009). Sensationalist media, neoliberal politics and non-critical academia have constructed a net through which various “states of exception” are constructed, with “the hard hand of the state” used against the fragmented working-class population in the age of advanced marginality (Wacquant 2007, 2009). When critically examined, these “states of emergency”, as well as the securitised urban atmosphere associated with them, are necessary to maintain the circuits of capital accumulation and the reproduction of existing social inequalities B. Aramayona (B) Autonomous University of Madrid, Madrid, Spain e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2020 M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al. (eds.), Inequality and Uncertainty, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1_5

87

88

B. Aramayona

in post-industrial cities: the “centre” needs to be cleaned up for the correct circulation of economic, symbolic and social capitals (Bourdieu 1979 [2015]; Theodore et al. 2009), whereas the “guetto” (ghetto)—understood not only as a segregated physical space but also as a discursive, symbolic and contested concept (Jaffe 2012a)—and peripheral spaces of the city are continuously described as dangerous places and “no-go areas” (Gans 1962; Duneier 2016). Thus, the mobilisation of “fear” has become a powerful strategy in reproducing and expanding the already unequal geographies of various post-industrial cities (Katz 2007; Jaffe 2012b; Ojeda 2013; Tulumello 2017; Lopes De Souza 2005). At the same time, the increased securitisation of the urban space, particularly in the aftermath of the events of 9/11, has fostered the emergence of what scholars such as Cindi Katz (2007) have called “banal terrorism”: a constant and routine reminder of an ever-present threat that demands heightened securitisation (p. 350). Parallel to this, there is an intensification of the division between “Us”, the proud national community that deserves to feel safe, and “Them”, the “Otherness”, who represent a constant threat and need to be pushed to the margins. New Leftist local governments, considered to be political experiments against neoliberalism on a local scale, have emerged in major cities all over the world. However, in Spain, these municipalismos are formed in the context of an intense economic crisis, long-term neoliberal policies and a “governmentality” (Foucault 1978b, 2009; Botticelli 2016) that repudiates poverty and attempts to render it invisible. The management of “urban insecurity” and “neighbourhood improvement” in Spain is not exempt from this neoliberal rationale. However, a greater effort must be made to understand the long historical construction of the “neoliberal rationale” working at a “capillary level” against the urban subaltern in Spanish post-industrial cities. In this chapter, I analyse the complex network of interests surrounding the “insecurity issue” in Puente de Vallecas, a working-class area on the outskirts of Madrid with a long history of public disinvestment and where a gentrifying process of urban renewal appears to have recently been initiated. Informal street vendors have been displaced by police harassment, and there have been various forms of “eventisation” of public spaces as part of the renovation process. Recently, the emergence of new drug dealing

5 “Fear, Disgust and Dignity”: The Securitisation of Everyday …

89

spots in the area (narcopisos) has led to spontaneous protests by local residents, in which many neighbourhood organisations have participated in what seems to be a new collective cycle of mobilisation in Madrid’s postrecession context. Based on ethnographic fieldwork with direct observation since 2015 and in-depth interviews conducted between the beginning of 2017 and mid-2018 (N = 30) with a diverse and relevant set of informants (long-term residents, real estate agents, local police officers, formal and informal vendors), I address the ways in which different inhabitants exert resistance and (re)appropriation strategies over the neighbourhood and how fear, disgust and dignity collapse together in different, and sometimes contradictory, narratives of “(in)security”. In the first section, I analyse how the “punitive turn”, i.e., the set of social policies first put into practice in the Anglo-Saxon context, has spread throughout different geographical and cultural settings to securitise the everyday “social realm” in many cities. In the second section, I explore the historical hybridisation between citizenship, police and State that has occurred in Spain since the mid-twentieth century. I focus on one of its most evident manifestations: middle class residents claiming the role of “policemen of everyday life” in the context of a “war among the poor” at the local scale. I argue that the moral superiority assumed by Spanish middle class residents over less privileged neighbours respond to a broad historical construction, in which the “society of homeowners” that appeared during the Franco dictatorship from the 1960s plays a crucial role. In particular, I offer an innovative theoretical examination of how a combination of “fear” (Tulumello 2017) and “disgust” (Lawler 2005) can help explain the experience of individualisation by the middle class and their hate of cyclically stigmatised subaltern individuals. In the third section, I examine how the “(in)security problem”, long associated with Puente de Vallecas, has now re-emerged as a new problem around drugs which tries to artificially revive the social alarm so common in many Spanish cities during the 1980s and 1990s with regards to heroin consumption. Through a detailed description of the contradictions between the data taken from police reports on current crime and violence rates in the area and current narratives spread by the media and certain organisations of middle class residents, I explore the subjective insecurity felt by the latter and how it relates to the way in which the Spanish middle classes have experienced

90

B. Aramayona

the economic crisis since 2008. Particular attention is paid to how this tense scenario represents a class- and race-based conflict over the “moral ownership” of the place (Zukin 2011), based on an “Us” versus “Them” division that responds to a colonial and patriarchal discourse. I also analyse how this construction allows for an intensification of the “securitisation” process as a strategy for “cleaning up” the area for the gentrification process that is taking place in Puente de Vallecas. Finally, in the last section, I examine some key elements for understanding the controversial role of new Spanish municipalities in current urban planning.

Urban (In)Security: The Reproduction of the “Punitive Turn” in Post-recession Spanish Cities Urban (in)security has attracted increasing scientific and media attention over the last three decades. The United States, as a laboratory of neoliberal policies, exported a large part of the “moral panic” around insecurity, crime and violence, by means of, among other things, various formulas of neoliberal urbanism on a global scale and its associated “policy mobilities” (Smith 2002; McCann and Ward 2011; Ward 2017). The American “War on Drugs” led to the “War on Crime” and became a new strategy for governing fear. Part of this discursive legacy took a new turn in the 2000s with the “War on Terrorism” and what some authors such as Cindi Katz (2007) have called “banal terrorism”. It is not surprising, then, that different authors point out the relationship between the rise of global neoliberalism and the emergence of a punitive policy against the fragmented working-classes in new post-industrial capitalism (Bonelli 2015; Wacquant 1993, 2007, 2009). By generating media-driven states of emergency, neoliberal governments construct scenarios of supposed (in)security and urban violence in which the “soft hand” of the State in the economic market is intertwined with the “hard hand” of the criminal state (Wacquant 2009). Based on a preventive and “risk management” approach,

5 “Fear, Disgust and Dignity”: The Securitisation of Everyday …

91

and through a host of new crime prevention technologies (CCTV surveillance systems, the multiplicity of specialised detention centres, partnerships between police and other social services for risk prevention, etc.), vulnerable and marginalised people are criminalised based on the logic of punishing people based on “what they are and not on what they do” (García 2015). The mobilisation of fear thus becomes a powerful tool to be employed in different social and geographical settings (Katz 2007; Ojeda 2013). The generation of “constant alarm” is used to control, tame and emotionally and behaviourally manage the populations of Western countries. Maria Stern (2006, 2011) points out that much of this logic conceals a colonial agenda, in which “civilised” populations (white and European) are positioned as a paradigmatic figure of order and social welfare. Thus, the narrative against a shared “public enemy”—sometimes with explicit names and surnames, sometimes simply as an abstract and omnipresent fear— contains within it a white, masculine discourse against the “Other”—the subaltern—which then becomes an object in which to intervene, either through its punishment or through its integration (Uitermark 2007, 2014; Mbembe 2018). This entire neoliberal rationale in relation to security on a local scale, which in the Spanish State accumulates its own historical idiosyncrasies (Ruiz-Chasco 2013), has come as an extension of the punitive escalation suffered by many European cities and that has the Anglo-Saxon model as an experimental laboratory and as an extension of public policies. Since 2015, new Spanish municipalismos, designed as hybrid political experiments to oppose neoliberalism on a local scale, have emerged in many large Spanish cities. Nonetheless, these new proposals for political experimentation are being formulated against a backdrop of intense economic crisis and a deep-rooted legacy of neoliberal policies, including the presence of a “governmentality” (Foucault 1978a, 2009; Botticelli 2016) that repudiates poverty and renders it invisible (Wacquant 2007, 2009). In this sense, beyond the clear difficulties of implementing alternative public policies to neoliberal urbanism, some of the approaches to managing (in)security and “neighbourhood improvement” put forth by certain municipalismos are not exempt from this neoliberal rationale. At the same time, since the 2008 economic crisis and the widespread emergence of

92

B. Aramayona

the Spanish unemployed (rising to more than 25% of the total population in 2012), many efforts have been made to securitise various objects in many Spanish cities. Coinciding with the broader global social crisis connected to global migration and refugee flows, the highly amplified alarm regarding the Southern frontier has been raised alongside an explicit social claim against racialised informal vendors in large cities (manteros), small drug dealers (trapicheos) and thieves (rateros), and various minor nuisances derived from problems with intercultural “coexistence” in some neighbourhoods. This entire “revanchist” strategy employed by the populist and reactionary media has been very effective in securitising these new objects and expanding and reifying renewed fears among the Spanish middle class population. At the same time, a reinforced Spanish national identity has entered into play when it comes to determining “who deserves” to feast on the remains of an ever more castrated welfare state. Although not explicitly constructed in terms of “security”, the “independent” Catalan nationalist movement of 1 October 2017 has been viewed by many Spanish population groups as a challenge against national sovereignty and their own cultural identity, already destabilised by the general social and economic crisis. This was particularly the case following the elections in the Southern region of Andalusia, where the neo-fascist political party (VOX) dramatically increased its parliamentary representation. Here, significant social concern was expressed by left-wing parties and social movements regarding some new right wing discourses penetrating “Spanish” hearts and minds, particularly articulated through discourses surrounding “insecurity” in working-class areas. However, this latent “ghost” in which reactionary politics, national sovereignty and urban insecurity can be invoked together, has been carefully constructed over a long period, and more efforts are required to disentangle how its legacies impact on current securitising measures against the urban subaltern in Spanish post-recession cities.

5 “Fear, Disgust and Dignity”: The Securitisation of Everyday …

93

Securitising Discourses in Madrid Working-Class: “Everyday Policemen” and the Civilised Middle Classes in Puente de Vallecas Case Study Description: San Diego in Puente de Vallecas The neighbourhood of San Diego is located in the Puente de Vallecas District, in the South-East axis of the city of Madrid. Only five stops from the main Plaza de Sol—the central hub of Madrid—, San Diego has some of the lowest annual household incomes in Madrid, as well as one of the highest rates of social vulnerability of various kinds (Local Council Report on Urban Vulnerability 2017). Puente de Vallecas was one of the areas that received both the first (in the early twentieth century) and the second waves (in the 1950s and 1960s) of migration from the rural areas to the city of Madrid, particularly from the southern and poorest regions of the state (Andalusia and Extremadura). Its inhabitants informally self-built their houses at the gates of the formal city and were not fully recognised as part of the latter until the social movements of the sixties and seventies reclaimed public services and the dignification of the urban environment. A very strong politicised “Vallecan identity” has been constructed ever since, in which left-wing and anarchist social movements, and later the heavy metal and rock music of the seventies and eighties, fought against the social stigma associated with the “lower-class neighbourhoods” of Madrid. Shortly afterwards, the dramatic emergence of heroin, with almost an entire young generation lost to its use, gave rise to another type of grassroots movement, such as “Mothers Against Drugs”, with a markedly anti-state and anti-repression character. In this context of public institutional abandonment, San Diego has experienced a process of social fragmentation due to the implementation of anti-welfare neoliberal ideology since the 1990s. This, in combination with the mass arrival of migrants from the global South, attracted by the area’s low rental prices and its proximity to the city centre (representing more than a quarter of the area’s total population), sets a scene of considerable social complexity.

94

B. Aramayona

Not surprisingly, in 2015—seven years after the economic crisis— Puente de Vallecas was one of the districts where Ahora Madrid, the experimental political party designed as a coalition of social movements and left-wing parties, received the most votes. This new Left-oriented District Council of Puente de Vallecas began to promote various plans and projects. Among other actions, a Revitalisation Plan was designed for the district’s “historic quarter”, closest to the city centre, including the regeneration of retail outlets and an intensive clean-up strategy. This Revitalisation Plan was delayed for various reasons (including the difficulty of applying budgets due to various strategic decisions at national government level). However, as a preventive measure, the informal vendors operating in the area were finally expelled through the constant presence of local police patrols and harassment in the “affected” area (such as the seizure of goods to be sold). Later, craft and flea markets sprang up to replace these informal vendors. Although this is not the specific object of interest of this paper, it is important to point out that this was one of the first preventive and aesthetic clean-up measures in the area or, as Bourdieu (1979 [2015]) describes it, how “soft-handed”—aesthetic and indirect—strategies were combined with the “hard-handed”—more explicitly punitive—approach of the state. At the same time, another “problematic issue” began to take shape in the media and culminated in the mass organisation of the neighbourhood: the insecurity problem. The emergence of so-called “narcopisos”, places where illegal drugs are sold and sometimes consumed, began to alarm residents, particularly in the Calle Monte Igueldo area. The situation appeared repeatedly in the press, residents complained about the “degradation of the area”, including the public abandonment of the urban environment with some residents “feeling unsafe”. On 4 October 2017, a resident sent a mass WhatsApp message calling for collective action in the form of a “cacerolada”—a popular protest in Spain in which crowds hit pans and pots to manifest discontent—by many other residents. The next day, as part of the same initiative, a mass email was sent to District Council member Francisco Perez, complaining about the “constant consumption of alcohol on the street”, informal and “dirty” street markets and a generally “unsafe feeling”. A month later, on 15 November, one of the traditional Residents’

5 “Fear, Disgust and Dignity”: The Securitisation of Everyday …

95

Associations in Puente de Vallecas channelled the demands of the caceroladas and called for a demonstration under the banner “More safety, more investment, kick out drugs and prostitution. Your cuts are destroying our streets”. In the related Manifesto, “Let’s Recuperate Vallecas”, in addition to some demands relating to improving social welfare through public investment, numerous securitising strategies were called for: a police chief for the district, increased National Police staff, specific policing measures to counter gender violence, including sex trafficking, and a specific brigade against gender violence and LGBTI-phobic behaviours. A few months later, in February 2018, after various collaborations between the Chair of the District Council, the Residents’ Association, the General Chief of the National Police and the National Government Delegation, a specific Security Plan for this area was approved, which included the installation of 25 CCTV surveillance cameras and reinforced number of police in the area.

The Media Alarm: Myths, Gaps and Contradictions Relating to the “Insecurity Problem” in Vallecas At the time of the 5 October caceroladas and the 15 November collective demonstration against the “degraded neighbourhood” of Puente de Vallecas, much news was published about the “insecurity” problem in the area. These “security” issues included a broad range of problems, all combined in the same narrative surrounding insecurity, retail decay and a general “bad image” projected by drug users and sex workers in public spaces. At the same time, they depicted a situation in which anyone can be frightened at any time, even losing their homes due to “bad squatters”. In San Diego, one of the areas in which most housing evictions have been carried out and contested through organised collective action by the well-known Plataforma de Afectados por la Hipoteca (PAH), an Anti-Eviction Platform, this narrative is not disinterested: El País (16th November 2017): “There are people who go to the doctor and, upon their return, someone has started squatting in their house to set up a drug-making lab, says one resident” (…) “Before, you walked down

96

B. Aramayona

this street and it was full of shops and bustling. Now, there are only party venues, commented a group of men”. ABC (17th November 2017): “Drug dens, squatters and prostitution. Vallecas lashes out against drugs”: “Some people pee or shoot up in the street, they ask for money or try to pick your pockets. They give a bad image and frighten away customers”, explains Juan José, manager of a car repair shop, regarding a block of flats full of squatters.

Shortly thereafter, on 23 November, a police operation (“Operation Whistle”) closed down most of the 33 narcopisos in the area, as estimated by the municipal registry. According to the El Mundo newspaper, among the items seized, were “264 wraps of heroin prepared for sale, 100 grams of crack cocaine, a pistol, several knives, 12 mobile phones, 2800 euros in cash and tools for the distribution and sale of controlled substances” (El Mundo, 24 November 2017). Other media such as El Confidencial covered the operation. However, this type of news is not uncommon in Vallecas. The construction of the image of an unsafe neighbourhood has been constantly repeated for several decades in the written press and on television. Indeed, the securitising discourse repeated by today’s media has many features in common with that constructed in the 1980s “pickpockets” and “the unemployed” (Información 1978) seemed to produce a general “psychosis of insecurity” (El País 1979). Although it is not our aim to trivialise the dramatic scenario represented by the emergence of drugs, crime and delinquency in Vallecas in the past, this media description of the “insecurity issue” criminalises already marginalised people, such as—e.g., pickpockets and tricksters—and informal workers. It does so instead of constructing a potential narrative denouncing the underlying structure that justifies social injustice and economic inequality, as other local organisations did during that decade (for example, the “Mothers Against the Drugs” organisation). As Enrique Martínez Reguera (1982) describes, “our suffering people who yesterday in their villages of origin asserted themselves in solidarity, are today barely able to recognise themselves (…) impelled to become lynch squads and obscure parallel services” (p. 84). It does not seem strange, then, that some of the most famous newspapers in the 1980s narrated

5 “Fear, Disgust and Dignity”: The Securitisation of Everyday …

97

any form of intervention based on individual self-defence and collective forms of punishment against the most vulnerable sections of the social structure. As a result, the only resident solutions reported by the media described “stringing them [small-scale drug dealers] up” (El Caso 1980), “taking our guns to the streets” (Diario 16, 1979) and “confronting the terrifying fear” through violence against the poor (Diario 16, 1980). Interestingly, most political groups have quickly reappropriated this problem as the content of their electoral demands and proposals. Not only reactionary and extreme right wing parties, such as Ciudadanos or Vox, but also the left-oriented Ahora Madrid has embraced this insecurity issue by promising “hard-handed” measures. Even the President of the District Board, Francisco Pérez, said that the installation of CCTV cameras was “a personal commitment” to the neighbourhood (Plenary of the Municipal Board, 10 January 2017). At the same time, this social alarm has been promoted and had an impact among many residents, who are also calling for more police and a more “hard-handed”, “civilising” discourse against the uncivilised “Other”, in which colonial and neo-fascist elements also emerge, as we will see below.

Colonial Discourses Against the Urban Subaltern: Fear and Disgust of a Spanish Middle Class in Collapse In a complex and diverse network of local and national actors, the securitising discourses against the urban subaltern in Vallecas have taken different paths. Certain neoconservative political groups, such as Ciudadanos, have resorted to the argument of the narcopisos as a weapon of electoral pressure against the municipal government led by Ahora Madrid. Thus, the #STOPOkupas (“Stop Squatters”) Twitter campaign initiated by Ciudadanos sought to discredit political okupaciones (anti-eviction protests and squatting practices) that gained a certain status of legitimacy after the 2008 crisis, such as those arising from the Anti-Eviction Platform (PAH), as well as those mounted long ago by the anarchist squatting movement, now referred to as “anarchist terrorism” (El País 2015). In this sense, the most avowedly neoconservative sectors have actively participated in the

98

B. Aramayona

construction of a “public enemy” in the media, with narcopisos as a source of electoral attraction on a local scale. This is combined with an explicit demand for more radical punitive policies at a national level, such as a proposal to reform the Spanish Citizen Security Law (popularly known as the “Gag Law”) allowing police to enter an occupied residence without a warrant. The “war among the poor” that has been being built in neoliberal states for three decades (Jones 2011) seems to be claiming victory in Vallecas. The diversity of ideological actors that made up this original caceroladas movement, despite being formed mostly by women, joined forces in denouncing insecurity in the neighbourhood based on the discourse of “neighbourhood degradation”, the “need for regeneration” and the urgent “expulsion of drugs” and “prostitution”. Paradoxically, many diverse actors participating in apparently very different political spaces have the colonial and “civilising middle class” discourse in common (Stern 2006, 2011) that hegemonises what is respectable and what is not; what is civilised behaviour and what is not. The message conveyed by one of the residents who called for the first actions, the caceroladas, contains many of these features, since “we do not want the deterioration of the neighbourhood or ‘junkies’, squatters or ethnic minorities ‘giving off bad vibes’”: We’re humble but hardworking people. We’re paying taxes for the benefit of all that social scum. If the workers who have fought for many years to get a flat leave the neighbourhood, who does the city council think will pay the taxes? I don’t know about you, but I refuse to leave my home because I’m from Madrid and a Spaniard. If you’re with me, please share. WhatsApp text that triggered the broader caceroladas mobilisation

This message managed to earn a huge amount of social legitimacy in very diverse sectors, including among some militants of the Partido Socialista Obrero Español with neoliberal centre political views. That reveals the centrality of colonial discourses in the construction of the “Spanish civility” expressed by the property-owning middle classes in many working-class neighbourhoods of many Spanish cities. Reading between the lines, the centrality of the “proudly national” discourse regarding “who deserves to

5 “Fear, Disgust and Dignity”: The Securitisation of Everyday …

99

stay” reifies a white, non-racialised self. At the same time, the symbolic centrality of formal employment (paying taxes) as an element of “civilised citizenship” against the “social scum” (represented, antithetically, as those who do not work in the formal sector and are not Spanish) coexists with the narrative celebrating the “culture of effort” represented by the (Spanish) working-class and its ultimate success: “owning a flat”. Once again, the media play a big role in stepping up this xenophobic narrative, when they report exclusively on the non-Spanish people, usually of African origin, who are found working in narcopisos. Although some of these middle class inhabitants speak of their feeling of fear, their perception, according to police reports (Local Police Report 2017), is not backed up by an increase of criminality in the area, not even minor crimes. Even when Operation Whistle, which closed 28 of the 33 identified narcopisos, was practically completed, some population sectors have continued to claim that subjective feeling of insecurity. It seems that their sense of insecurity hides a more complex and intricated logic. Indeed, this appeal to “fear” (Tulumello 2017) often combines with an appeal to “disgust” (Lawler 2005; Tyler 2008; Hubbard and Colosi 2015): exhibiting “respectable” and “decent” behaviour represents a moral superiority over the excesses associated with the (predominantly racialised) urban subaltern in post-industrial cities. In truth, this “Spanish” civilising rationale has been carefully constructed over many decades. It echoes some moralistic messages concerning how “thanks to the Falange [Fascist party] Spanish people are cleaner and healthier ” (Pilar Primo de Rivera [the sister of Primo Rivera, founder of la Falange] 1953). It is intimately connected with the production of a home-ownership-based middle class society during Franco’s regime in the 1960s, which is now experiencing a very profound crisis, not only economically, but symbolically (Palomeras 2013; López and Rodriguez 2010). It looks like a new “revanchist” response is being directed by the devalued and collapsed Spanish middle classes following ten years of crisis, displaying a highly punitive response against the lower strata of society. This “war among the poor” (Jones 2011) is being enhanced by some opportunistic political groups, producing yet more “securitising moves” in order to maintain a sense of “social order”, based on the criminalisation of those “others”. This externalisation of the causes of the problem attempts to overcome this Freudian “sense of death”:

100

B. Aramayona

the necessary recognition that something, structurally and internally, has to be changed. In a kind of “collective paranoia”, and under the ghost of the heroinfuelled drama experienced by these neighbourhoods in the 1980s, a significant proportion of the residents who organised against this problem became direct police collaborators, identifying places where drugs were sold, and falling into practices that push the limits of ethics and data protection. Thus, comments shared in chats created for this purpose (the identification of narcopisos and a proposal for a residents’ response, mediated fundamentally through their reports to the police) display the constant identification and surveillance exercised by residents, who become the “everyday police” of the neighbourhood itself (García 2015). The introduction of these ordinary or “banal alerts” produces, as Cindi Katz (2007) proposes, “a sense of terror and fear in a daily and meaningless manner” (p. 359). The generation of a constant state of alert, capable of mobilising fear collectively, exponentially fertilises the perception of a subjective experience of insecurity.

Final Remarks Fear is a substantive and widespread emotional experience in many Western post-industrial cities. Sometimes camouflaged, other times temporarily contained under the fragmentation of cities into “safe spaces” (central) and “unsafe spaces” (peripheral). In Southern Europe, the gaps of inequality and social suffering have widened considerably since 2008 and have apparently justified the intensification of this punitive turn against the urban subaltern. The intense economic and symbolic crisis experienced by the so-called Spanish “middle classes” may be threatening the social order associated with the liberal democracy model. However, a mechanism for coping with this situation, fuelled by a sophisticated network of mainstream media and reactionary political parties, consists in the denial of the internal and structural locus of the crisis itself: the externalisation of the cause and the punishment of the lower classes as scapegoats for all those personal and social grievances. In Puente de Vallecas, as well as in many other echoing working-class districts of numerous Spanish cities,

5 “Fear, Disgust and Dignity”: The Securitisation of Everyday …

101

such as the Raval in Barcelona, the revanchist distinction drawn by these ruptured middle classes is expressed through an exacerbated performance of the double experience of fear and disgust against the urban subaltern. In other words, this profound crisis manifests itself when Spanish workingclass people “look down on” the marginalised people on the fringes of society, trying to survive by means of informal subsistence: racialised informal vendors (such as street vendors, or manteros), small-scale drug dealers and sex workers, viewing them as new social demons. Unfortunately, although the original purpose of the new experimental local governments (municipalismos) was to produce anti-neoliberal policies beyond the aesthetically attractive “soft-handed” nature of many social-democratic proposals, some district boards in Ahora Madrid, such as the one described, have fallen into this security trap. I hypothesise that there are several interconnected and competing reasons that explain this painful contradiction: first, the internal ideological diversity of the project; second, the difficulties involved in applying coherent policies between national, regional and local governments; and, last but not least, the ideological neoliberal legacies of the past, with a strong component of a Francoist “civilised” colonial morality, in which the punishment of marginality, particularly when racialised, has had its own accumulative effects on Spanish middle class culture for decades. Future research might delve into this final question, as well as into the exploration of alternative proposals to overcome this deep economic and symbolic European middle class crisis proposed by various social movements organised at a local level.

References Bonelli, L. (2015). From Worker Discipline to Improbable Security Control. In D. Ávila & S. García (Coords.), Enclaves of Risk: Gobierno neoliberal, desigualdad y control social (pp. 163–178). Madrid: Ed. Traficantes de Sueños. Botticelli, S. (2016). The Governmentality of the State in Foucault: A Modern Problem. Praxis Filosófica, 42, 83–106. Bourdieu, P. (1979 [2015]). Distinction: Criteria and Social Bases of Taste. Barcelona: Penguin Random House.

102

B. Aramayona

Duneier, M. (2016). Ghetto: The Invention of Place, the History of an Idea. Nueva York: Farrar, Strauss and Giroux. Foucault, M. (1978a). The Micro-Physics of Power. Madrid: La Piqueta. Foucault, M. (1978b). From Other Spaces. Available at http:// inhabitedmindmapping.net/wp-content/uploads/2007/09/foucalt_delos-espacios-otros.pdf. Foucault, M. (2009). Nacimiento de la biopolítica: curso del Collège de France (1978–1979) (Vol. 283). Madrid: Akal. Gans, H. J. (1962). The Urban Villagers: Group and Class in the Life of ItalianAmericans. Nueva York: Free Press. García, S. (2015). Everyday Cops. In D. Ávila & S. García (Coords.), Enclaves of Risk: Gobierno neoliberal, desigualdad y control social (pp. 57–82). Madrid: Ed. Traficantes de Sueños. Hubbard, P., & Colosi, R. (2015). Respectability, Morality and Disgust in the Night-Time Economy: Exploring Reactions to ‘Lap Dance’ Clubs in England and Wales. The Sociological Review, 63, 782–800. Jaffe, R. (2012a). Talkin ‘ ’Bout the Guetto: Popular Culture and Urban Imaginaries of Immobility. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 36 (4), 674–688. Jaffe, R. (2012b). Criminal Dons and Extralegal Security Privatization in Downtown Kingston, Jamaica. Singapore Journal of Tropical Geography, 33, 184–197. Jones, O. (2011). Chavs: The Demonization of the Working Class. Madrid: Capitán Swing. Katz, C. (2007). Banal Terrorism: Spatial Fetichism and Everyday Insecurity. In D. Gregory & A. Pred (Eds.), Violent Geographies: Fear, Terror, and Political Violence (pp. 349–361). New York: Routledge. Koning, A., Jaffe, R., & Koster, M. (2015). Citizenship Agendas in and Beyond the Nation-State: (En)Countering Framings of the Good Citizen. Citizenship Studies, 19 (2), 121–127. Lawler, S. (2005). ‘Disgusted Subjects’: The Making of Middle-Class Identities. The Sociological Review, 53(3), 429–446. Local Council of Madrid . (2017). Annual Report on Social Vulnerability, Fondo de Reequilibrio Territorial. Local Police of the City of Madrid. (2017). Annual Report, Police records in Puente de Vallecas. Lopes De Souza, M. (2005). Urban Planning in the Age of Fear. International Development Planning Review, 27 (1), 1–20.

5 “Fear, Disgust and Dignity”: The Securitisation of Everyday …

103

López, I., & Rodríguez, E. (2010). End of Cycle: Financialization, Territory and Society of Owners in the Long Wave of Hispanic Capitalism (1959–2010). Madrid: Traficantes de Sueños. Martínez-Reguera, E. (1982). The Street Belongs to Everyone, Whose Violence Is It? Madrid: Editorial Popular. Mbembe, A. (2018). Políticas de la enemistad. Madrid: NED Edicines. McCann, E., & Ward, K. (2011). Mobile Urbanism: Cities and Policymaking in the Global Age. Minneapolis and London: University of Minnesota Press. Ojeda, D. (2013). War and Tourism: The Banal Geographies of Security in Colombia’s “Retaking”. Geopolitics, 18, 759–778. Palomera, J. (2013). How Did Finance Capital Infiltrate the World of the Urban Poor? International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 38, 218–235. Ruiz-Chasco, S. (2013). Governing Fear: The Social Construction of Citizen (In)Security in the Albayzín Neighbourhood. Revista de Antropología Experimental, 13, 167–183. Smith, N. (2002). New Globalism, New Urbanism: Gentrification as an Urban Global Strategy. Antipode, 34, 427–450. Stern, M. (2006). ‘We’ the Subject: The Power and Failure of (In)Security. Security Dialogue, 37 (2), 187–205. Stern, M. (2011). Gender and Race in the European Security Strategy: Europe as a ‘Force for Good’? Journal of International Relations and Development, 14, 28–59. Theodore, N., Peck, P., & Brenner, N. (2009). Neoliberal Urbanism: The City and the Empire of Markets. Journal of Social Issues, 66, 1–11. Tulumello, S. (2017). Fear, Space and Urban Planning. Cham, Switzerland: Springer. Tyler, I. (2008). “Chav Mum Chav Scum”: Class Disgust in Contemporary Britain. Feminist Media Studies, 8(1), 17–34. Uitermark, J. (2007). Gentrification as a Governmental Strategy: Social Control and Social Cohesion in Hoogvliet, Rotterdam. Environmental and Planning A, 39, 125–141. Uitermark, J. (2014). Integration and Control: The Governing of Urban Marginality in Western Europe. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 38(4), 1418–1436. Wacquant, L. (1993). Urban Outcasts: Stigma and Division in the Black American Guetto and the French Urban Periphery. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 17 (3), 366–383.

104

B. Aramayona

Wacquant, L. (2007). Territorial Stigmatization in the Age of Advanced Marginality. Thesis Eleven, 91, 66–77. Wacquant, L. (2009). Punishing the Poor: The Neoliberal Government of Social Insecurity. Barcelona: Ed. Gedisa. Ward, K. (2017). Policy Mobilities, Politics and Place: The Making of Financial Urban Futures. European Urban and Regional Studies, 25, 1–18. Zukin, S. (2011). Naked City. New York: Oxford University Press.

6 Protest and Taste: Socio-Spatial Restructuring of Moda After Gezi Protests Kaan Kubilay A¸sar

Introduction Istanbul is, more than ever, confronted with the alliance of authoritarian politics and neoliberal economy. Global capitalism finds its expression in the liturgies of free market individual and finds its heretics among the collective body politic. In this neoliberal purge, May and June of 2013 marked the history of Istanbul in which people from diverse social and political fractions, from republicans1 to anti-capitalist Muslims, from intellectual labourers to workers, from secondary school students to elderly people, started a collective yet leaderless revolt against the confiscation of Gezi Park—in the Taksim Square—by the government for the purpose of building an Ottoman-style shopping mall. The people reclaimed Gezi Park as a public space. Their collective effort in Taksim enabled them to 1 In Turkish political context, the term “republican” refers to the dissident seculars and sympathisers

of the main opposition party, Cumhuriyet Halk Partisi (Republican People’s Party).

K. K. A¸sar (B) Central European University, Budapest, Hungary © The Author(s) 2020 M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al. (eds.), Inequality and Uncertainty, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1_6

105

106

K. K. A¸sar

occupy Gezi Park and transform it into a kind of an “urban utopia” which included mobile and free libraries, medical centres, markets, theatres, and many other places. During the occupation of Gezi, Kadıköy was one of the most politically vibrant neighbourhoods. On the morning of June 1st, a group of supporters of rival football teams gathered in Kadıköy, crossed the Bosporus bridge, and arrived in Be¸sikta¸s to participate in the resistance.2 Others joined the demonstration by using the ferries until Istanbul municipality cancelled the transportation network between the two sides of the city.3 The ones who stayed in Kadıköy participated in the Gezi Resistance by banging on pots and pans in their neighbourhoods.4 In the aftermath of the demonstrations, to protest police brutality, 1. Gazdan Adam Festivali (1st Gas Man Festival—ridiculing the use of tear gas by the police) was arranged in Kadıköy on July 7th. In the following months, several neighbourhood solidarities inspired by Gezi, most importantly Acıbadem, Cafera˘ga, and Yelde˘girmeni, organised in Kadıköy.5 Thus, the line of resistance between Gezi and Kadıköy was an active one. In a way, Gezi has triggered a vast political mobility in-between Kadıköy and Taksim and saturated Kadıköy as a home to the urbanites who are against the authoritarian rule of Erdo˘gan. The legacy of Gezi has continued in Kadıköy with these new solidarity networks, neighbourhood associations, festivals, and squat houses in which the politics of commons have been reflected. However, these were not the only changes that Kadıköy underwent. By 2013, Kadıköy had experienced rapid gentrification through the opening of third-generation 6 2 “Kadıköy’den Taksim’e köprüden geçtiler” [They Crossed the Bridge and They Went from Kadıköy

to Taksim]. Bianet. 1 June 2013. Retrieved from: https://bianet.org/bianet/siyaset/147111-kadikoyden-taksim-e-kopruden-gectiler. 3 “Fenerbahçe ve Be¸sikta¸s taraftar grupları Taksim’e yürüdü” [Supporters of Fenerbahçe and Be¸sikta¸s Arrived in Taksim]. Hürriyet. 8 June 2013. Retrieved from: http://www.hurriyet.com.tr/fenerbahceve-besiktas-taraftar-gruplari-taksime-yurudu-23462125. 4 “Gezi ruhu Kadıköy’de” [The Spectre of Gezi is in Kadıköy]. Gazete Kadıköy. 20 June 2013. Retrieved from: http://www.gazetekadikoy.com.tr/genel/gezi-ruhu-kadikoyde-h4229.html. 5 Kocabıçak, Evren. “˙I¸sgal ve Mahalle Dayanı¸sması” [Occupy Movement and Neighbourhood Solidarity]. Mü¸stereklerimiz [Our Commons]. 20 December 2014. Retrieved from: http:// mustereklerimiz.org/isgal-ve-mahalle-dayanismasi/. 6Third-wave coffeehouses are anti-chain and independent small businesses run by coffee artisans or coffee hobbyists who serve “specialty coffee” to customers. They learn barista skills, spend large

6 Protest and Taste: Socio-Spatial Restructuring …

107

cafés, authentic pubs, and independent theatres. Each authentic café or pub that had popped up welcomed the dissident urban youth, and, they, deliberately, recreated Moda7 as their new trenches. Urbanites from diverse backgrounds moved to Moda neighbourhood in Kadıköy. Overall, Kadıköy had already been restructured as a new “globe” to welcome dissident urbanites. When the last struggle had been fought for the city in Taksim, the defeated armies of dissident urbanites had a home to return to. This paper scrutinises the question of how the recent political mobility from Taksim to Kadıköy triggered a socio-spatial segmentation of Moda neighbourhood through gentrification and production of politically differentiated consumption places. The new social formation of Kadıköy, embracing the economic and political production of space, demonstrates how the political polarisation might diffuse into the neighbourhood setting. The main aim of this paper is to show that the way gentrifiers and café-goers familiarise consumption places with their social space establish not only economic but also political barriers for other citadins. In the following sections, I will discuss the existing literature on gentrification in relation to the economic, cultural, and political changes it triggered in Kadikoy, Istanbul. After situating the gentrification theories, I will examine the economic side of the gentrification imbued with political alignments of the café and shop owners in Kadikoy.

Cultures of Protest and Taste Struggle for Urban Space Under Neoliberalism Neoliberalism, as it is perceived, proposes a logic of a free market system in which it economically requires the participation of each city into global trade mechanism. Neoliberalism fuels an ideology which is “the neoliberal

sum of money on coffee machines, coffee beans, and architectural design, and intend to create sophisticated services. 7 Moda is the central neighbourhood of Kadıköy county in Istanbul. Throughout the essay I have used Moda and Kadıköy interchangeably since the locals refer to Moda as Kadıköy.

108

K. K. A¸sar

market-based populist culture of differentiated consumerism and individual libertarianism” (Harvey 2005: 42). Moreover, economic incorporation of the city into the global market has been conditioned by this neoliberal period. In this manner, cities compete with each other on the scales of economic growth according to their core and periphery condition in the world (Lever 1993). Furthermore, to maintain this competition, cities have been entered into the contest of “hard-branding” where fostering cultural events have overwhelmed the public spheres of the city through intensification of urban consumption places (Evans 2003). Choice of the branding patterns might be associated with the ongoing “tourist productive system” (Britton 1991) which commodifies the city and reproduces the space as commodity. On the one hand, “worldwide competition was associated with financial product innovation, particularly risk-based priced mortgages, and their securitisation” (Hyra 2012) in which the global cities are articulated into the world financial and economic system. On the other hand, more than competition between individual cities, global cities also “collectively form a globally networked platform for the operations of firms and markets” (Sassen 2009: 7). Likewise, this platform, accompanied by the constant branding of the city, “merged developers’ interests and consumers’ desires with officials’ rhetoric of growth” (Zukin 2010: 231). Turkey followed these global motives as well. Starting with the 1980s, Istanbul has been deindustrialised, land-values have rapidly increased, and the urban politics shifted from “populist developmentalism to neighbourhood upgrading under capitalist logic” (Keyder 2005: 130) Especially by the municipality law in 1984, which separated the municipalities as city governments and district governments and brought an extensive role on commanding financial resources which led to the “emergence of an entrepreneurial local government acting as a market facilitator” (Bartu-Candan and Kolluoglu 2008: 12). The number of these policies reached its peak during the AKP (Justice and Development Party) period. It had solidified and accelerated this neoliberalisation processes, as it can be seen by the emergence of huge shopping centres, financial centres, and luxury residences (Lelandais 2014: 1794).

6 Protest and Taste: Socio-Spatial Restructuring …

109

As can be seen, this neoliberal transformation followed a transition from “managerial” to the “entrepreneurial” state in which the city governments acquired a greater role in the property market through publicprivate partnerships, and privatisations (Harvey 1989). New profitable mega-projects have accelerated the economic and spatial growth of cities and skyrocketed the real-estate values (Fainstein 2008). The disappearance of industrial infrastructures, gentrification in poor neighbourhoods, and the emerging service sectors have driven out both the working-class and the lower-profit-margin traditional crafts from the city. Furthermore, these projects integrated the city space with middle class taste and money, in which it marginalised the various communities through increasing landrent (Smith 1987). Istanbul was one of these entrepreneurial local governments which enjoyed the support from the central government. It can especially be seen in the changes in legislations concerning urban development. In order to quickly implement new urban transformation projects, AKP passed Law 5162 and Law 5366 which was written in an “ambiguous” way to tackle legal obstacles (Kuyucu and Ünsal 2010: 1485; Kuyucu 2014: 615). It also gave extensive rights to municipalities to tear down and gentrify the historical settlements. Sulukule, as well as Tarlaba¸sı, is the most caricaturised example of this entrepreneurial state intervention right into the lives of poor communities.

Gentrification as a Cultural Struggle From an economic perspective, we can conclude that the gentrification became “the knife-edge neighbourhood-based manifestation of neoliberalism” (Hackworth 2007: 149). Yet, this manifestation also had a cultural character. For instance, to investigate the cultural and economic perceptions of the gentrifiers on the neighbourhood and the city, Butler (1997) focuses on the consumption practices, lifestyle choices and cultural taste of the gentrifiers whom they regard as members of the new middle class. This approach indicates that gentrification and the desire to live in a cosmopolitan environment are related to the demand of a particular fragment of the new middle class with high cultural capital and low economic capital for distinguishing itself from its suburban counterpart. As Bourdieu argues,

110

K. K. A¸sar

the taste, aesthetics, and cultural consumption define class boundaries by enabling social classes to differentiate and distinguish themselves (Bourdieu 1986). In relation to gentrification, the middle class uses different strategies of distinction and class identification to both draw new social and spatial barriers for others, and to maintain an “elective belonging” to the space (Savage et al. 2005: 29). Furthermore, distinctive taste is not only effective in social groupings of the classes but it also significantly creates segregation through its spatial restructuring of the city for the middle classes. Strategies of distinction by the gentrifiers, often result in the “dynamic of urban redevelopment that displaces working-class and ethnic minority consumers” (Zukin 2008: 1). For Zukin, the main aim of the gentrification process is “the conversion of socially marginal and working-class areas of the central city to middle class use” (Zukin 1987: 129). Consumption places in gentrified neighbourhoods do not merely represent the “social class income, education, and occupation. Instead, they are based on alternative consumption practices that challenge the mainstream institutions of mass consumption” (Zukin 2008: 738). These alternative consumption practices also provide distances and proximities in-between the people of the same neighbourhood. It can be politically or culturally oriented. Exclusion or inclusion from the neighbourhood highly rests upon the material barriers, as expensive prices, and cultural barriers, as exclusive tastes (Zukin 2008: 735). Gentrification also provides a linkage between the global capitalism and cities. By the neoliberal policies of privatisation of the public sphere, Zukin argues, today’s city has “lost its soul.” City, as we knew it, has become more and more structured around global corporate consumption places. Furthermore, this intense gentrification caused the emergence of homogenous and global cultures in the neighbourhoods (Zukin 2010). As opposed to the argument of corporate structuration of city, Benediktsson et al. (2016) argued that the “processes of gentrification are neither ‘chaotic’ nor ‘unitary’ but are ‘segmented’ according to local spatial and demographic context” which can be analysed from an institutional perspective (how authorities arrange zoning politics) and lifestyle perspective (how people would like to consume something in the neighbourhood.) It seems that the gentrification in Kadıköy also functions in a spatially segmented manner, in which the global fast food restaurants are clustered

6 Protest and Taste: Socio-Spatial Restructuring …

111

around the periphery of the neighbourhood, while the authentic and gentrified cafés and theatres are mostly in the core.8

Methodology This paper relies on a case study of in-depth interviews of dissident shop owners who left Taksim and moved their business to Moda, after the Gezi protests of 2013, to avoid excessive surveillance and control by the state over Taksim Square. The reason behind my focus on this specific group is to situate the political realignment and economic system within the urban space. In this vein, I have tried to solicit whether their individual perception of Moda neighbourhood would correspond to the geographical map of gentrification. During my fieldwork in Kadıköy in Spring 2016, I interviewed five café-owners, one pub owner, one boutique owner, and two theatre owners. As a local of Kadıköy, I also participated in nightlife entertainment, parties, and political meetings by virtue of having personal connections and a network of my friends in Moda. To answer my research question, interviews mostly included questions regarding the attributes of social groups in Moda, the political nature of being a newcomer and business owner, elective belonging to Moda, and the daily interactions with the local community. Their answers provided sufficient categories and perspectives in order to analyse their social positions within the neighbourhood. For example, their classification of people visiting Moda at the weekends overlaps with the inner and outer neighbourhood divide in Moda, where new cafés, pubs, and theatres created the segmentation of social classes along with consumption practices.

8I

have used the terms “periphery” and “core” to denote the geographical location of an area. “Periphery” refers to the outer borders of the neighbourhood where the transportation network exists, and “core” refers to the inner-neighbourhood which is mostly composed of residential buildings and “alternative” consumption places (such as third-generation cafés, authentic pubs, etc.).

112

K. K. A¸sar

Socio-Spatial Restructuring of Moda Imagine you arrived in Kadıköy in the 1920s. First, you would see numerous Levantine kö¸sks [summer houses]. When you walk by these elegant abodes, you would be led directly to kahvehanes [cafés] owned by Greeks, Armenians, and Turks. If you wandered around the inner-city, Moda, you would see Greek, Armenian, and French churches and their huge gardens. Around them, butchers, charcuteries, tailors, and many other small shops. By the 1940s, if you strolled around the Moda Street, you would still see these small shops and small kö¸sks. Yet, many local residents have gone to Greece due to the population exchange between Greece and Turkey in 1923. Now, the Republican elite lived in the neighbourhood. If you took the parallel street, Bahariye, you could enjoy a new play at Süreyya Opera House which was built in 1927. Following the opera house, you would notice students going to the first training college in Turkey, Maarif Koleji. By the 1980s, if you happened to be on the sixth floor of one of the newly built apartment buildings, you would witness thousands of gecekondus [squatter’s houses] built on the peripheries of Kadikoy. The population is five times more than it was in the 1940s. Now, 500,000 people live in the district of Kadıköy (Kütükçü 2014). New apartment buildings are constructed in place of kö¸sks and their gardens. By the 1990s, Moda undergoes a rapid transformation, becoming an alternative place for leisure activities in ˙Istanbul. Yet, the most important change comes with the 2000s. The streets are teeming with people who are hurrying on the underground and Metrobus [transitway] stations and ferry terminals which connect the Asian and European sides of the city. New dersanes [preparatory schools], kebap and döner restaurants, universities, theatres, cinemas, and many other places suddenly appear out of nowhere, and you are be amazed by the speed and force of the change within the neighbourhood during the last twenty years. Today, when you walk towards Moda, you will first see extremely saturated lights in the façades of wedding dress shops, phone shops, erotic shops, fast-food restaurants, banks, meyhanes, and hookah-cafés; then you would reach Bahariye where prices and the diversity of foods, clothes, and drinks gradually increase and façades become duller yet uniquely designed; when you arrive in Moda, gentrified coffeehouses along with pubs appear

6 Protest and Taste: Socio-Spatial Restructuring …

113

collectively almost as a toy-basket. Each pub or café is generally so small that they can only serve to eight to ten people at a time. Furthermore, whereas in the peripheries you may see mainly families, lower classes, and conservative middle class linger, in the core, it is usually the upper and lower middle classes, university students, yuppies, republicans, social democrats, and leftists that have their own place. After such a walk, you can clearly see the separation of the social classes, through the socio-spatial segregation of the consumption practices of these communities. In the following sections, I will explicate only the latter walk we had through discussing the economic, cultural, and political aspects of gentrification in Moda. First, I will analyse the effects of the gentrification and its destruction of economic equilibrium in the neighbourhood. Then, I will move on to the relation between “authentic” consumption and segmentation of the neighbourhood. Finally, the last part will discuss the possibilities of collective body politic after the Gezi Park demonstrations, and its position under the attack of neoliberal consumerism.

Caffeine-Stimulated Gentrification and the Reffiné Community Being the central neighbourhood of Kadıköy, Moda resides in the Asian side of Istanbul as a mostly residential neighbourhood. Kadıköy was one of the latecomers to the urban regeneration projects during the 1980s and 1990s. Most of the neighbourhoods in Kadıköy experienced rapid urban transformation at the beginning of the millennium. The metropolitan municipality initiated new urban transformation projects to attract private investment in the surrounding neighbourhoods such as Kozyata˘gı, Ata¸sehir, and Acıbadem. These neighbourhoods soon became filled with many gated townhouses, often populated by the secular middle and uppermiddle class residents. Furthermore, new transportation networks, i.e. the underground and ferries, connected Kadıköy district through Moda neighbourhood to the multiple commercial centres in Istanbul, namely Taksim,

114

K. K. A¸sar

Be¸sikta¸s, and Eminönü, and to the peripheral working-class neighbourhoods, notably Sultanbeyli, Sarıgazi, and Ümraniye. All in all, Moda gradually but rapidly became the epicentre of new investment in Istanbul by virtue of vast infrastructural and demographic change in Kadıköy. However, the gentrification of Moda neither happened through displacement of working-class communities nor was it a residential kind. It rather occurred through two different operations of economic capital. In the peripheral zones of the neighbourhood big capital is fixed through the opening of global and local fast-food and café chains. It was in this period, for instance, that the Kadikoy municipality redeveloped the century-old historic bazaar in the periphery. This led to the shutting-down of secondhand book-stores surrounding the bazaar since their profit margin was insufficient to catch-up with the increasing rents. While in the inner neighbourhood, small yet incessant monetary investments in small shops gradually created a volatile rent market. As one of the owners of gentrified pubs in the inner neighbourhood told, the rents have increased by 650% in the last two years, between 2015 and 2017 (19 March 2017, male, Moda). Eventually, this bifurcated movement of capital pulled the restaurant prices down in the periphery and increased the costs of consumption in the core. Therefore, this new segmentation of the neighbourhood displaced the old shopkeepers by the affluent gentrifiers. What can anyone [referring to old shopkeepers] do about it? He [referring to gentrifiers] offers five thousand liras rent for the twenty-square metres area. Of course, it is an attractive offer. Many of the butchers accepted it. For example, there were 16 butchers in Moda, mostly Rum [Greek], before they [gentrifiers] came. Now there are only four. In Moda, there were a lot of Albanian shoe-makers, now only one left. Now everywhere is coffee-shop, bona petit, what can I say? (15 May 2017, male, Moda)

My interlocutor, the barbershop owner, depicts the old Moda as the neighbourhood of small shop owners who produced and sold their products only for the Moda community. In other words, Moda had a local economy in which shop ownership was meaningful in so far as it produced goods and services for the residents of the neighbourhood. In the 1990s, the neighbourhood was geographically disconnected from other districts

6 Protest and Taste: Socio-Spatial Restructuring …

115

in Istanbul, it was mostly residential compared to the other neighbourhoods, and it was an ethnically and religiously, highly diverse environ where Armenian, Greek, Albanian, French, and Italian communities were living. It was indeed a place almost untouched by the neoliberal transformation that Istanbul went through in the 1990s. However, after 2013, many old shop owners have seen the rapid rise in the ground rents as an opportunity and have generated profit from renting their places for significant amounts of money. The surge in new cafés, pubs, and theatres reached its climax in 2016 when renting a place to open a café-shop in the inner-neighbourhood had almost become impossible, since it required a vast amount of economic investment. As the newcomers restructured the economic infrastructure, it is soon followed by the new urban imaginary where Moda is constituted as a neighbourhood of authentic consumption. Indeed, new Moda, drawn on the palimpsest of old and isolated Moda, is imbued with a sense of authentic urban community through segregation of consumption practices inside the neighbourhood. A boutique owner reveals Moda’s new cultural boundaries by differentiating between Rıhtım (the periphery of Moda) and Moda (inner-quarter or core of Moda): A lot of differences. Rıhtım teems with “abur-cubur tayfa” [the junk-food consumers, or uncouth crowd], anyone goes to these places. When you depart for Moda, people get filtered gradually. People here are more raffiné [refined]. Well, Moda also started degenerate, however. (15 March 2017, male, Moda)

The “filtering” process leaves the big capital and its consumers in Rihtim, and thus creates a community of concentrated and cultured consumers. It is the operation of inherited taste, that is “a class culture turned into nature” shaping class bodies (Bourdieu 1986: 190), which valorises big capital, distils the social classes, and thus reinforces the exclusionary nature of cultural capital. The mainstream fast-food stores host hundreds of people every day, while café-shops or boutiques only have eight or ten tables. As products are widely distributed among the social groups in the periphery of Moda, consumption practice loses its distinctive character but keeps its economic utility. However, small café-shops in the core, through expensive

116

K. K. A¸sar

prices and authentic products, retain their cultural domination over all other goods. Hence, economic filtering becomes intermingled with the critical infrastructure of the neighbourhood.

Conclusion Social exclusion of citadins from Istanbul fostered the new socio-spatial arrangements within the city. On the one hand, newcomers fortified their consumption clusters with gentrified pubs and cafés and produced economic and social barriers impeding others. Hand in hand with these barriers, the core of Moda has seen a proliferation in the numbers of these consumption places. On the other hand, this process has mediated the mobility within the city, through the creation of peripheral consumption clusters often composed of global or national fast-food or café chains. Since consumption practices reflect the privileged position of “freedom of choice” among other liberal values, i.e. equality, freedom of speech, security of private life, establishing the collective political action, or common voice becomes the major predicament for the citadins. The most common concern for the proper and free life in Moda is “not being bothered by the other.” It puts forward a kind of seclusion, which constructs the mental space, as Lefebvre uses it, with certain restrictions and segmentation. Thus, gentrified places in Kadıköy produce a potentially political yet fractured social space, at the same time, as it amalgamates the dissidents of government and provides an incubator for incipient political projects and as it domesticates the public space by constituting the infrastructure of neoliberal market individualism, that is freedom-of-choice oriented liberalism, against forming the political possibilities of “living together” in daily interactions.

6 Protest and Taste: Socio-Spatial Restructuring …

117

References Bartu-Candan, A., & Kolluoglu, B. (2008). Emerging Spaces of Neoliberalism: A Gated Town and a Public Housing Project in Istanbul. New Perspectives on Turkey, 39 (39), 5–46. Benediktsson, M. O., Lamberta, B., & Larsen, E. (2016). Taming a “Chaotic Concept”: Gentrification and Segmented Consumption in Brooklyn, 2002–2012. Urban Geography, 37 (4), 590–610. Bourdieu, P. (1986). Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste (R. Nice, Trans.) London: Routledge. Britton, S. (1991). Tourism, Capital, and Place: Towards a Critical Geography of Tourism. Environment and Planning D: Society and Space, 9 (4), 451–478. Butler, T. (1997). Gentrification and the Middle Classes. Aldershot: Ashgate. Evans, G. (2003). Hard-Branding the Cultural City—From Prado to Prada. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 27 (2), 417–440. Fainstein, S. (2008). Mega-Projects in New York, London and Amsterdam. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 32(4), 768–785. Hackworth, J. (2007). Neoliberal Gentrification. In The Neoliberal City: Governance, Ideology, and Development in American Urbanism. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. Harvey, D. (1989). From Managerialism to Entrepreneurialism: The Transformation in Urban Governance in Late Capitalism. Geografiska Annaler, Series B, Human Geography, 71(1), 3–17. Harvey, D. (2005). A Brief History of Neoliberalism. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Hyra, D. (2012). Conceptualizing the New Urban Renewal: Comparing the Past to the Present. Urban Affairs Review, 48(4), 498–527. Keyder, Ç. (2005). Globalization and Social Exclusion in Istanbul. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 29 (1), 124–134. Kütükçü, T. (2014). Geçmi¸s zamanların, mekânların ve hatırlamaların rafında: Kadıköy’ün kitabı. Istanbul: Ötüken Ne¸sriyat. Kuyucu, T. (2014). Law, Property and Ambiguity: The Uses and Abuses of Legal Ambiguity in Remaking Istanbul’s Informal Settlements. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 38(2), 609–627. Kuyucu, T., & Ünsal, O. (2010). Urban Transformation’ as State-Led Property Transfer: An Analysis of Two Cases of Urban Renewal in Istanbul. Urban Studies, 47 (7), 1479–1499.

118

K. K. A¸sar

Lelandais, G. E. (2014). Space and Identity in Resistance Against Neoliberal Urban Planning in Turkey. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 38, 1785–1806. Lever, W. F. (1993). Competition Within the European Urban System. Urban Studies, 30 (6), 935–948. Sassen, S. (2009). Cities in Today’s Global Age. SAIS Review, 29 (1), 3–34. Savage, M., Bagnall, G., & Longhurst, B. (2005). Globalisation and Belonging. London: Sage. Smith, N. (1987). Of Yuppies and Housing: Gentrification, Social Restructuring, and the Urban Dream. Environment and Planning D: Society and Space, 5 (2), 151–172. Zukin, S. (1987). Gentrification: Culture and Capital in the Urban Core. Annual Review of Sociology, 13(1), 129–147. Zukin, S. (2008). Consuming Authenticity: From Outposts of Difference to Means of Exclusion. Cultural Studies, 22(5), 724–748. Zukin, S. (2010). Naked City: The Death and Life of Authentic Urban Places. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

7 Urban Inequalities and Egalitarian Scenes: Relationality in Urban Place-Making and Community-Building and Paradox of Egalitarianism Marta Klekotko

Introduction This paper aims to analyse egalitarian scenes and the relationality of urban place-making and identity-building in processes of community creation. Rejecting both ecological determinism as well as cultural reductionism in community studies, the paper applies the theory of scenes (Silver and Clark 2016; Klekotko et al. 2015) in order to explore the cultural impact of urban space on extra-local, “egalitarian” identity and community structuration. The first part of this paper describes the nature of ecological determinism and cultural reductionism in community studies and points to the concept of scene as a remedy for the gap between these two approaches. Secondly, the concept of scene and sociocultural opportunity structure is presented. Then, the paper describes egalitarian scene and provides an empirical example of such scene in the Neukölln neighbourhood in Berlin. Finally, the paradox of egalitarianism is explained and discussed. M. Klekotko (B) Jagiellonian University, Kraków, Poland e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2020 M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al. (eds.), Inequality and Uncertainty, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1_7

119

120

M. Klekotko

Between (New) Communality and (New) Locality The “new locality” and the “new communality” are two parallel trends in contemporary community studies (cf. Klekotko 2012, 2018b; Klekotko and Gorlach 2011). The former builds on an ecological approach which considers physical territory and geographical proximity a foundation for the development of social relations and communal identifications. Such approach can still be found in various programmes for urban revitalisation and neighbourhood regeneration, New Urbanism (Grant and Perrott 2009), eco-urbanism (Ruano 1998; Sharifi 2016), place-making (Schneekloth and Shibley 1995; Fleming 2007) and creative place-making (Markusen and Gadwa 2010), community capacity building (Kretzman and McKnight 1996; Chaskin et al. 2001; Barr and Hashagen 2000; Bush et al. 2002), community work as well as various community-based public policies (Dominelli 2007). All these concepts and programmes aim to create place identity and attachment, strengthen social ties and social support, as well as increase local agency and participation, and thus restore local communities (cf. Klekotko 2012; Klekotko and Gorlach 2011). In turn, the “new communality” trend builds on psychosocial approach which disregards the issue of nature of foundations of social ties and communal identifications and focuses entirely on psychosocial aspects of community, namely on the sense of belonging and collective cultural identity (cf. Amit 2002). Such approach is being developed by concepts of neotribes (Maffesoli 1996), communities of taste (Lash 1994), lifestyle communities (Shields 1992), network communities (Castells 1997; Wellman 2001), virtual communities (Rheingold 1993; Holmes 1997; Baym 2000; Castells 2001), liminal communities (Delanty 2003) and social movements (Castells 1997; Melucci 1989; Buechler 2000). New communality is based on a more or less conscious and durable (usually less than more) sense of belonging which is detached from place (territory), spatially dispersed or taking so-called “spaces-in-between” or “nonplaces” (Augé 1995). It is individualised and “privatised”, symbolically constructed (Cohen 1985), “nomadic, highly mobile, emotional and communicative, (…) sustained by mass culture and aesthetic sensibilities and

7 Urban Inequalities and Egalitarian Scenes …

121

practises” (Delanty 2003: 132; cf. Maffesoli 1996; Lash 1994). Community is thus believed to exist in cultural consciousness and thus is reduced by researchers to its cultural nature. Both approaches, although very valuable and beneficial for urban studies, encounter some important limitations in explaining a broad scope of phenomena that can be observed nowadays in postmodern cities, including pop-up city, guerrilla urbanism, numerous bottom-up and ephemeral ludic and community practices of leisure, new urban movements, identifications and place-attachment of modern nomads, etc. The first approach describes community as too static and stable with permanent structural bonds based on spatial proximity and interdependence and thus presents environmental determinism. This point of view negates the fluid and mobile nature of contemporary cities and communities inhabiting them (Nawratek 2011, 2012). It also does not recognise the extraterritorial and cultural aspects of community creation, paying too much attention to particular spatial forms of community and too little to the processes of creation, maintenance and reconstruction of the bonds as such (Wellman 1979). The second approach, on the other hand, disregards the structuralspatial context and, as a result, overlooks the signs of place-embedding of the processes of bonding, as well as the meaning of place as a space for resources or a medium of creation of supralocal bonds, and thus it presents excessive cultural reductionism, reducing the community to the collective cultural self-awareness. The differences between these two points of view reflect the conflict between agency and structure. The “new locality” approach pays too much attention to the social whole and its durability and overlooks the meaning of individual cultural practices in the creation and reproduction of local communities. The “new communality”, on the other hand, overly exposes the individual’s freedom of choice and individualistic character of personal communities, making the individuals free from the structural pressures and tensions resulting from spatial context. A large part of contemporary urban reality does not fit into this black-orwhite scheme and thus remains unexplained or explained inappropriately and incompletely. I reject both holism and ecological determinism, as well as individualism and cultural reductionism of community studies as inadequate for the analysis of many contemporary forms of urban communality. I make an

122

M. Klekotko

argument that the postmodern city is a space of structuration of diverse urban communities that go far beyond the traditional concepts of neighbourhood and kinship based on spatial proximity and interdependence on the one hand, and spatially liberated personal community or collective cultural consciousness on the other. I believe that community creation is a parallel process of place-making and identity-building and cannot be reduced to any of them. I also believe the concept of scene to be a promising remedy for the described gap in community studies and thus to provide a significant complement.

Scene: Linking Culture to Territory Scenes are urban spaces in which practices of cultural consumption are given symbolic meaning and thus constitute spatial expressions of particular lifestyles, developed by individuals through these practices. Scene is defined as a dynamic structure of (1) physical environment (including its aesthetics) and (2) people (and their demographic and socio-economic profile) (3) involved in various types of practices, (4) representing particular values (Silver and Clark 2016). Every scene can be described by a specific combination of symbolic and cultural values which underlie consumption practices and make them socially significant. Scene is structured by legitimacy, theatricality and authenticity (Silver and Clark 2016; Silver et al. 2011). Legitimacy refers to values and motives that direct practices of cultural consumption and legitimise them. It defines a right or wrong way to live, determines what is and what is not allowed, sets patterns of social consumption and shapes the beliefs and intentions of actors. Participants of scenes experience pleasure from a common sense of being “normal”, rejecting at the same time those, who do not comply with standards of consumption relevant to given scenes. A source of legitimisation of consumption practices can be the following values: a tradition (practices based on a will to keep with and safeguard tradition), charisma (practices imposed by famous or charismatic individuals or authorities), self-expression (practices based on a will to express oneself and enjoying unique experiences), egalitarianism (practices

7 Urban Inequalities and Egalitarian Scenes …

123

with fair access) or utilitarianism (a will to undertake useful, time- and cost-effective practices). Theatricality refers to roles played mutually by individuals before other participants of the scene: scenes create an opportunity of seeing and being seen, and therefore in this manner shape behaviours and codes of conduct of the individuals. The participants of the scene can draw social pleasure from playing their role or from watching how other people do it. This pleasure of acting determines a way, in which actors present themselves to others and how they perceive others. There are five dimensions of theatricality: neighbourliness (practices based on intimate, “familiar” and close relationships), transgression (practices based on a will to transgress common standards and pattern of behaviours), exhibitionism (practices based on a will to be “visible” and admired by others), style (a will to play a role of trendsetter, imposing trends on others and being seen as a “fashionable”) and formality (a will to comply with strict rules and principles or etiquette). Finally, authenticity, defined as a meaningful sense of identity, refers to expression and fulfilment of a particular identity. Individuals need to be authentic, and simultaneously reject behaviours which lack authenticity. The dimension of authenticity allows determining a degree, in which various scenes reinforce a sense of rootedness and identification, confirming or distorting the individual identity of individuals. Five sources of authenticity have been proposed by the theory of scenes: a “sense of home” (the dimension of locality), an ethnic origin (ethnicity), corporate values (corporatisation), citizenship (statehood) or a conviction about the primacy of rational bases of individual identity (rationalism).

Scene as Sociocultural Opportunity Structure Symbolical meanings of scenes provide identity resources, which may be used by individuals while creating and developing their identity as members of a cultural community. In the postmodern era, individuals constantly face the challenge of building their own identity (Giddens 1991), and symbolical meanings of consumption provide them with a building material (cf. Elliott and Wattanasuwan 1998; Miles 1996; Shields 1992).

124

M. Klekotko

This has been recognised by contemporary urban studies, which consider cities as a place of cultural consumption, within which a variety of lifestyles emerge and develop, and thus point to the rise of cultural identities and consciousness as well as the growing importance of aesthetics in shaping contemporary cities and their economic development (cf. e.g. Lloyd 2007; Clark 2003; Florida 2002; Zukin 1995, 1998; Gieryn 2000; Landry 2002, 2006; Judd and Fainstein 1999; Basset 1993; Borer 2006; Markusen 2006; Glaeser et al. 2001; Klekotko and Navarro 2015; Schneekloth and Shibley 1995; Fleming 2007; Markusen and Gadwa 2010). Contemporary cities thus become scenes of both top-down and bottom-up processes of cultural place-making and identity-building. The power of scene is that it links territory with culture and locality with an imagined community. The scene embodies territorially cultural consciousness: subjective becomes objectified, imagined–real. The locality dimension is thus restored—it is the place that gives meaning to actions of social actors or allows the meaning of these actions to be realised—place becomes a value of the action (cf. Znaniecki 1936). Practices of cultural consumption, when embedded in scene lead to the development of a sense of belonging (“we-ness”), place-attachment, and community selfawareness. They establish visible borders of the community and define “we-ness” vs. otherness. As Kluckmann (2016: 38) puts it: “Every feeling of we-ness evolves through participation in practice and every practice has the potential to evolve a feeling of we-ness among its participants”. Linking dimensions of communality and locality provides new opportunities for exploration of the processes of structuration of urban community through practices of place-making and identity-building. On the one hand, practices provide territory with cultural meanings, and on the other hand, territory makes practices meaningful. In this relational space-cultural process a community is created: the meanings of territorially embedded practices build community identification (identitybuilding) and make an urban space socially significant and a culturally meaningful “place” for communal practices (place-making). These two processes (identity-building and place-making) remain in relation to each other, which is determined by sociocultural opportunity structure of scene (Klekotko 2018a, b). Sociocultural opportunity structure of scene defines the meanings of place, provides specific resources for collective identity,

7 Urban Inequalities and Egalitarian Scenes …

125

determines the nature of social contact between individuals and establishes a framework for interactions between actors, leading to the emergence of diverse communities and—under certain conditions—their mobilisation. Scenes thus define both content and form of interactions and cultural practices; thus different types of scenes provide opportunities for different interactions and practices and lead to the emergence of different communities.

Egalitarian Scene Combinations of definite values of the three aforementioned dimensions of scenes (legitimacy, theatricality and authenticity) make up various specific scenes. A combination of self-expressive legitimacy, transgressive theatricality and local, anti-rational as well as anti-corporate authenticity makes up a bohemian scene, while neighbourly theatricality, traditional legitimacy and local authenticity–a communitarian scene (Silver and Clark 2016). There are many specific types of scenes, like “LaLa land scene”, “Disney heaven scene”, “Baudelaire’s River Styx” and many others, each of them characterised by a specific combination of values. Egalitarian scene is a particular urban milieu developed mostly in socalled “mixed neighbourhoods” and unprivileged neighbourhoods subjected to revitalisation and gentrification processes. Since mixed neighbourhoods are believed to make neighbourhoods safer, healthier and more vibrant (both economically and socially), they are particularly desired social form in urban planning. Such positive effect of mixed neighbourhood is supposed to be based on social contact between individuals of different socio-economic status which in turn is believed to favour positive role modelling, stronger collective control over disorder, reduced exposure to violence, lower incidences of deviant behaviour, better employment prospects, improved access to higher quality services and institutions, and elimination of geographic stigma (Galster 2012; Galster and Friedrichs 2015). However, empirical evidence suggests that unprivileged population do not significantly benefit from the mixed neighbourhood strategies, and in some cases, their situation gets even worse (cf. Levy et al. 2013: 20). According to Galster and Friedrichs (2015: 8), “the reasons for this

126

M. Klekotko

failure can be excessive social distance (Arthurson 2012), social distinction (Davidson 2012; Paton 2012), spatial separation of (tenure) groups (Bailey et al. 2006), or different everyday time schedules (Fraser et al. 2012)” which prevent social contact. I believe paradox of egalitarianism to be another potential reason of this failure, which I will try to explain in the last part of this paper. Egalitarian scenes are thus inhabited by individuals of diverse background: immigrants, low-income and welfare-dependent families as well as young professionals and students (the latter two labelled by others as “hipsters” or “neo-hipsters”). As such, they provide specific social and cultural opportunity structures. Mixed neighbourhoods seem to feed the “egalitarian” cultural identity of individuals and thus favour the creation of an “egalitarian” lifestyle community. Such a community is based on shared practices and values of egalitarianism, self-expression, neighbourliness, transgression, ethnicity, tolerance, multiculturalism, diversity and freedom. Egalitarian scene is thus structured by egalitarian and self-expressive legitimacy, neighbourly and transgressive theatricality, as well as ethnic (multicultural) and sometimes local authenticity. Its amenities are inclusive, negate hierarchy, provide open access, favour spontaneous, face-toface informal relations and give opportunity for individual expression as well as permission for breaking the imposed (mainstream) rules. In other words, egalitarian scene provides opportunity structure for (1) social contact with individuals of diverse background, (2) development of “egalitarian” identity, (3) territorial embeddedness of imagined “egalitarian” community, (4) informal neighbour and transgressive interactions. Such a scene can be found in the Neukölln neighbourhood in Berlin. Neukölln is an immigrant and dynamically changing district of Berlin, adjacent to the famous hip Kreuzberg neighbourhood and the Tempelhof airport, which was closed in 2008 and transformed into an extremely popular recreational space. Neukölln is famous for one of the highest percentages of immigrants, multicultural vibe, vibrant social, cultural and aesthetical diversity and contrasts, and recently—to the immediate proximity of the immigrant camp which has been installed in the buildings of the Tempelhof airport. The neighbourhood is undergoing rapid transformation from a “problem” district into one of the hippest neighbourhoods in Berlin. While some parts of the district already resemble hip Kreuzberg,

7 Urban Inequalities and Egalitarian Scenes …

127

the others still seem to fight to keep a rather immigrant than hip character. This unequal fight against gentrification results to be a fight for egalitarian scene.

Egalitarian Scene in the Making: Voice from Neukölln In order to better describe relational processes of place-making and communal identity-building in scenes, this paper provides an empirical example of egalitarian scene in the Neukölln neighbourhood in Berlin. The empirical material which is presented below is a side-effect of fieldwork done during the preliminary research in two European cities, Berlin and Barcelona, and therefore this paper does not claim infallibility of the thesis it proposes. However, these loose field observations, despite a rather spontaneous process of data collection and relatively small research sample that prevent generalisations, seemed to draw a pattern and tell an interesting story which is definitely worth theoretical reflection that could lead to further investigation of the phenomenon. The fieldwork, focused on cultural-spatial mechanisms of community structuration, included observation, visual analysis, in-depth interviews and ethnographic walks. Alexandra, Enrique, David, Thomas, Agnes and Tania, all of them young, educated middle class members occupying precarious positions, were my first interviewees who took me for a walk around their neighbourhoods and told me their stories of making life there. All these stories turned out to be very similar and helped me to conceptualise my exploration of strategies and the processes of creation and reproduction of egalitarian scenes, the role of social and ethnic inequalities, which these processes implicitly assume, as well as communal practices of defending the egalitarian character of scene and fighting against the invasion of privileged social groups. In this paper, I am going to use the story of Alex as an empirical example that illustrates and reflects the main points of my argumentation. Once again, let me stress that the empirical material I am about to provide comes from uncompleted research and cannot be considered representative or generalisable. The voice of Alex along with

128

M. Klekotko

my field impressions from Neukölln serve nothing else but an illustration of the phenomena which I am yet to explore. Alex is from the Czech Republic, and she always dreamed of living in Berlin. One day she manages to fulfil her dream: she receives an attractive job offer and moves to Neukölln. Alex shows me the place where she lives and talks about her difficult beginnings in her dream city, filled with disappointment and frustration. Asked about the source of these frustrations, she cannot articulate them clearly. She says that in the building she lives in, she was the only one with a European background and all her neighbours were Muslim (mainly Turkish). However, she quickly adds that “(…) this is not the point. I really do not care where they come from, from Turkey or from the moon. Anyway, I love Berlin for its diversity. It’s cool to see these women with these children on the streets and those hipsters, who also buy ayran in the same shops”. What could be the reason for her alienation, at the same time is one of the main advantages of the inhabited place. After all, however, something was wrong, although Alex cannot name it, so she gives me an example: “no one here [in the tenement house] has a bike… and it is so characteristic because in Berlin everyone has a bicycle”. Today, there are already five bicycles under Alex’s block. When I ask about them, Alex shows me the windows of the flats, where new tenants have recently moved in. Alex does not know them personally, but she knows that the neo-hipster on the right listens to cool music and is visited by cool (i.e. cool looking) people. The young pair of bike owners who live on top also look cool (although Alex is not sure yet if they share her dislike of hipsters and gentrification, namely if they are hipsters or neo-hipsters). Alex is not alone anymore: other members of her tribe who share similar cultural tastes, lifestyle and beliefs have joined her (Maffesoli 1996). I ask Alex to show me around and tell me about her neighbourhood. We go for a walk, Alex shows me her favourite places, tells about the colours of the neighbourhood life, admires old-school shops and bars: “You won’t find many shops like these in other places, now everything must be glamorous and shining, even a stupid grocery store must have a design with all these stupid marketing tricks which make you buy things even if you don’t really need them, it sucks. And here nobody cares about the windows display. The shops are obscure and seedy rather than shining.

7 Urban Inequalities and Egalitarian Scenes …

129

And I really like it. It is as it was decades ago, as if it was left behind the capitalist development. And it is important to keep them as they are”. The words “vintage”, “old-school”, “authenticity” are constantly passing through her story. And then suddenly, completely imperceptibly, Alex abandons her individual and personal story for the narrative in the first plural: we. Enthusiastic, vividly gesturing to me, she presents me the ideology of the place and the community: “We want Neukölln to remain authentic”, she declares and explains that this is why “Neukölln must remain dirty”. She shows me what it means, and when we go along a bad smelling street she confesses “Oh, it smells horrible, but I love it, it makes the neighbourhood authentic”. Despite casual small-talk with other regulars of the same places, Alex does not know anyone in the district. Her sense of community with other residents of Neukölln (although not articulated nor fully recognised), as well as her conviction about common interests, come only from shared cultural practices and their implicit meanings and values. As she says “it’s clear, look how they look, look at the street, at these people, at the bars and shops that are here; what they sell or even what music they play there”. Alex never received any leaflets, did not attend any meeting where someone would inform her about the district’s problems. Sometimes, someone hangs a poster in the shop window, or scribbles “Neukölln must remain dirty” on the building’s wall. It means that the community is mobilising and Alex is eager to join in collective action to defend the values of the district, if someone initiates it. Alex’s story sheds light on several important issues. The described example shows that the presence of the Muslim minority (which in fact is the majority in the discussed place) is an inalienable element of defining Alex’s identity, which is based on values of tolerance, openness and multiculturalism. In other words, Alex needs Muslim neighbours to identify herself as an open and tolerant supporter of multiculturalism. This proves the relationality in communal identity-building, and at the same time embeds this relationality in a clearly territorial context. Paradoxically, it is the place that is the foundation for building a supralocal cultural community. Although an egalitarian community does not need territorial foundation to emerge (one can be a tolerant and open-minded supporter of multiculturalism and egalitarianism regardless of the place in which one resides), this is an

130

M. Klekotko

experience of a specific place which defines Alex’s communal identity. The striking presence of the Muslim minority makes Neukölln meaningful, and this is a symbolic meaning of the place that becomes the value of the actions undertaken by Alex. As long as Alex was alone among the immigrant community, it was difficult for her to build her own meanings and to legitimise her actions. Alex’s loneliness led to the frustrating sense of the crisis of communal identity, because it succumbed to a parallel narrative defining Neukölln as a cheap district for poor immigrants. The meaning, as well as intentions of her actions, could have been misread and they lacked collective legitimacy. Individualistic identities require mutual recognition and therefore the presence of others to manifest themselves (cf. Beck and Beck-Gernsheim 2002; Kellner 1992; Bellah et al. 2007). The need for mutual recognition and collective legitimacy can also be observed today: Alex gains confidence in those spaces of her neighbourhood in which the identity narrative is clear and legible. The place turns out to be crucial for the implementation of the supralocal identity project. Alex was not satisfied with the sense of belonging to the imagined community—she was looking for its physical presence. It was not until Neukölln, that she felt at home and herself. The sense of community, however, does not directly result from the common territory. This sense of community seems to be primary, while the common space of practices (scene) strengthens this feeling and makes it real: the imagination takes on real shape, it is embodied by social contact. The community is no longer just an image, though it does not become a neighbourhood. It is a highly individualised private community, for which spatial co-presence is a condition for the implementation of community practices and for giving them cultural meanings, as well as legitimising and celebrating the planned identity. In contrast to neighbourhood, this community is dynamic, fluid and discontinuous. Unlike new communities, it is something more than a form of cultural collective consciousness.

7 Urban Inequalities and Egalitarian Scenes …

131

Egalitarian Scenes and Paradox of Egalitarianism—Discussion The aforementioned empirical example of the Neukölln neighbourhood in Berlin points to a paradox of egalitarian scene which although aims to open access to urban space and advocates fighting inequalities, it implies their existence due to the relational character of cultural identity of its actors and the place itself. In other words, urban inequalities are indispensable resources for Neukölln place-making and collective egalitarian identitybuilding and as such must remain untouched. This paper argues that the egalitarian scene is distinctive and exclusive and structures urban space. It is created through practices of cultural distinction and is determined by inequalities. The immigrants and underclass provide material as well as social proof for egalitarian identity and make it authentic. The unprivileged are objectified—they are indispensable (and as such—desired) “decoration” for making the scene authentic. Inequality is thus a precondition for egalitarianism and egalitarianism requires inequalities to legitimise itself. Although Alex does not identify herself with the unprivileged and seems bothered by their social “otherness” and inferior, low-class habitus (“nobody here in my block has a bicycle”), she is conscious of their interests and eager to protect them. This attitude, however, is lead not only by her egalitarian beliefs but her need to maintain her lifestyle (and thus the neighbourhood) “authentic” as well. The privileged and the unprivileged are interdependent in the creation of the egalitarian meaning of the space which leads to common interests and community action. The accurate social mix is decisive for the “right” meaning of place and thus legitimisation of egalitarian identity. Any distortion from this balance may threaten the interests of both groups: “hip” label brings gentrification and “poor”–marginalisation. Both processes (gentrification and marginalisation) are harmful to the neighbourhood although they affect the unprivileged and privileged in different ways. In the case of the former, the harm is done to the material existence, and in case of the latter—to the postmaterial dimensions of the well-being. The rights of the unprivileged are not guaranteed by the quota of social housing in the neighbourhood. Gentrifiers bring hipster amenities which

132

M. Klekotko

replace traditional local shops and enterprises and may increase the costs of living in the neighbourhood and thus lower the quality of life of the unprivileged, who have no interest in “hipster” consumption practices, nor can afford them. On the other hand, the social homogeneity of the neighbourhood leads to its stigmatisation and marginalisation and may negatively affect access to services and institutions, quality of infrastructure, social order, etc. Both affect the privileged too: living in a hip or marginalised neighbourhood challenge authenticity of the egalitarian lifestyle and identity of the privileged and negatively affects their psychological (as well as social) well-being. Keeping the “authentic” character of the neighbourhood is then a common interest of both categories of inhabitants and is believed to discourage newcomers from upper middle class from moving into the neighbourhood. Both groups are interested in maintaining the status quo and thus unintentionally cooperate in defending the character of the neighbourhood. The unprivileged aesthetics is used as a cultural strategy of defence for a neighbourhood’s territorial (economic and cultural) interests from the invasion of gentrifiers. Thus egalitarian dynamics consist in taking over aesthetics of the unprivileged by the privileged, which may be observed in their extraordinary fascination for old-school and dirt as authentic. Keeping the neighbourhood dirty and smelly is believed to keep it aesthetically unattractive to more privileged categories and prevent gentrification. At the same time, however, the unprivileged remain obviously excluded by the privileged from forming the egalitarian lifestyle community. It seems that to be a member of this community, living in Neukölln should not be a life necessity, but a matter of free choice of the individuals. This may recall “tourists and vagabonds” metaphor (Bauman 1996). Privileged and unprivileged form two different communities: the unprivileged seem to form a traditional local community based on functional interrelations, while the privileged enjoy and develop supralocal, postmodern and postmaterial forms of communality. Place is, however, important to the formation of both communities: it provides a functional platform for the interdependence of unprivileged and symbolical platform for the meaningful identity of privileged. Although in the case of the unprivileged, the community-building process can be explained by the locality approach, the egalitarian community of privileged requires joining the two approaches,

7 Urban Inequalities and Egalitarian Scenes …

133

locality with communality, which the concept of scene does. Moreover, a holistic perspective of the scene approach, not only allows to link processes of community-building and place-making into a single frame, but it helps to investigate the interrelations and interdependences between various (privileged and unprivileged) community-building processes and their spatial (as well as symbolic) co-determinants as well. Both groups make up the egalitarian scene and participate in the multiple processes of community-building and place-making. Egalitarian identity of scene does not mean equity nor leads to a change in the social status of the unprivileged. In other words, the egalitarian scene does not mean improvements for all—the stories of my interviewees suggest that egalitarian authenticity means “dirt” for all. The unprivileged must maintain their status in order to provide the privileged with identity resources. This may explain why some improvements in mix neighbourhood strategies cannot be reached. Although positive in many aspects, they may fail in others. Such a situation results from wider social processes for which this particular urban settlement may serve as a focus: class struggle. The privileged in Neukölln become unprivileged outside the neighbourhood. Their precarious position situates them closer to the unprivileged neighbours than to economically stable members of the upper middle class. The latter is considered a threat that will force them to step back and move out. Thus, my final argument is that the precarious middle class develop an egalitarian identity in defence of their economic interests and against neoliberal rationale. Egalitarian identity is very critical and challenges (as well as transgresses) mainstream values and aesthetics. It is practised mainly by young, educated middle class occupying precarious positions. Gentrification is a threat to their existence as it is in the case of the unprivileged. Egalitarian scene becomes thus the platform where the egalitarian community can fight for their interests, using aesthetics as a frame for claim-making and socio-political mobilisation (referring to “higher” postmaterialist values, such as “egalitarianism”, seems a more appropriate strategy for the middle class, for whom it is unseemly to raise economic claims). The privileged (although precarious) use the unprivileged groups to fight against more privileged (because not precarious) ones. Postmaterialist values of egalitarianism cover up more materialist interests of daily existence of the young

134

M. Klekotko

urban precarious class and veil tensions in the social structure. Egalitarian scene is thus an aesthetic platform for class struggle and a kind of social and political manifesto.

References Amit, V. (2002). Realizing Community: Concepts, Social Relationships, and Sentiments. London: Routledge. Arthurson, K. (2012). Social Mix and the City: Challenging the Mixed Communities Consensus in Housing and Urban Planning Policies. Collingwood: CIRSO. Augé, M. (1995). Non-Places: Introduction to an Anthropology of Super-Modernity. London: Routledge. Bailey, N., Haworth, A., Manzi, T., Paranagamage, P., & Roberts, M. (2006). Creating and Sustaining Mixed Income Communities. Coventry, UK: Chartered Institute of Housing and Joseph Rowntree Foundation. Barr, A., & Hashagen, S. (2000). Achieving Better Community Development. London: Community Development Foundation. Basset, K. (1993). Urban Cultural Strategies and Urban Cultural Regeneration: A Case Study and Critique. Environment and Planning, 25 (12), 1773–1788. Bauman, Z. (1996). Tourists and Vagabonds: Heroes and Victims of Postmodernity. Political Science Series No. 30. Retrieved from: https://nbn-resolving.org/urn: nbn:de:0168-ssoar-266870. Baym, N. K. (2000). Tune In, Log On: Soaps, Fandom, and Online Community. Thousand Oaks, London, and New Delhi: Sage. Beck, U., & Beck-Gernsheim, E. (2002). Individualization: Institutionalized Individualism and Its Social and Political Consequences. London: Sage. Bellah, R., Madsen, R., Sullivan, W., Swidler, A., & Tipton, S. (2007). Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in American Life. The Journal of American History, 73. Borer, M. I. (2006). The Location of Culture: The Urban Culturalist Perspective. City and Community, 5 (2), 173–197. Buechler, S. M. (2000). Social Movements in Advanced Capitalism. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Bush, R., Dower, J., & Much, A. (2002). Community Capacity Index. Brisbane, QLD: The University of Queensland.

7 Urban Inequalities and Egalitarian Scenes …

135

Castells, M. (1997). The Information Age, Vol. 2: The Power of Identity. Oxford: Blackwell. Castells, M. (2001). The Internet Galaxy: Reflections on the Internet, Business and Society. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Chaskin, R. J., Brown, P., Venkatesh, S., & Vidal, A. (2001). Building Community Capacity. New York: Aldine Transaction. Clark, T. N. (2003). The City as an Entertainment Machine. Oxford: Elsevier. Cohen, A. (1985). The Symbolic Construction of Community. London: Tavistock. Davidson, M. (2012). The Impossibility of Gentrification and Social Mixing. In G. Bridge, T. Butler, & L. Lees (Eds.), Mixed Communities: Gentrification by Stealth? (pp. 233–250). Bristol: Policy Press. Delanty, G. (2003). Community. London and New York: Routledge. Dominelli, L. (Ed.). (2007). Revitalising Communities in a Globalizing World. Aldershot, Hampshire: Ashgate. Elliott, R., & Wattanasuwan, K. (1998). Consumption and the Symbolic Project of the Self. In B. G. Englis & A. Olofsson (Eds.), European Advances in Consumer Research (Vol. 3, pp. 17–20). Provo, UT: Association for Consumer Research. Fleming, R. L. (2007). The Art of Placemaking: Interpreting Community Through Public Art and Urban Design. London: Merrell Publishers. Florida, R. (2002). The Rise of the Creative Class. New York: Basic Books. Fraser, J., DeFillippis, J., & Bazuin, J. (2012). HOPE VI: Calling for Modesty in Its Claims. In G. Bridge, T. Butler, & L. Lees (Eds.), Mixed Communities: Gentrification by Stealth? (pp. 209–229). Bristol: Policy Press. Galster, G. (2012). The Mechanism(s) of Neighbourhood Effects: Theory, Evidence, and Policy Implications. In M. van Ham, D. Manley, N. Bailey, L. Simpson, & D. Maclennan (Eds.), Neighbourhood Effects Research: New Perspectives (pp. 23–56). Dordrecht: Springer. Galster, G. C., & Friedrichs, J. (2015). The Dialectic of Neighborhood Social Mix: Editors’ Introduction to the Special Issue. Housing Studies. https://doi. org/10.1080/02673037.2015.1035926. Giddens, A. (1991). Modernity and Self-identity: Self and Society in the Late Modern Age. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Gieryn, T. (2000). A Space for Place in Sociology. Annual Review of Sociology, 26, 463–496. Glaeser, E., Kolko, J., & Saiz, A. (2001). Consumer City. Journal of Economic Geography, 1(1), 27–50. Grant, J., & Perrott, K. (2009). Producing Diversity in a New Urbanism Community. Town Planning Review, 80 (3), 267–289.

136

M. Klekotko

Holmes, D. (Ed.). (1997). Virtual Politics: Identity and Community in Cyberspace. London, Thousand Oaks, and New Delhi: Sage. Judd, D. R., & Fainstein, S. S. (Eds.). (1999). The Tourist City. New Haven: Yale University Press. Kellner, D. (1992). Popular Culture and the Construction of Postmodern Identities. In L. Friedman (Ed.), Modernity and Identity. Oxford: Blackwell. Klekotko, M. (2012). Rozwój po ´sl˛asku: procesy kapitalizacji kultury w społeczno´sci górniczej. Kraków: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Jagiello´nskiego. Klekotko, M. (2018a). Praktyki wspólnotowe w ponowoczesnym mie´scie: w poszukiwaniu nowej perspektywy. Miscellanea Anthropologica et Sociologica, 19 (1), 209–229. Klekotko, M. (2018b). Mi˛edzy lokalno´sci˛a a wspólnotowo´sci˛a, czyli o wspólnototwórczych wła´sciwo´sciach scen miejskich. Acta Universitatis Lodziensis. Folia Sociologica nr 64/2018. http://hdl.handle.net/11089/25765. Klekotko, M., & Gorlach, K. (2011). Miejsce, lokalno´sc´, globalizacja. Przyczynek do problematyki socjologii wsi (i nie tylko) w społecze´nstwie ponowoczesnym. In H. Podedworna & A. Pilichowski (Eds.), Obszary wiejskie w Polsce. Ró˙znorodno´s´c i procesy ró˙znicowania (pp. 22–55). Warszawa: IFiS PAN – Polskie Towarzystwo Socjologiczne. Klekotko, M., & Navarro, C. J. (2015). Wymiary kulturowe polskich miast i miasteczek. Kraków: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Jagiello´nskiego. Klekotko, M., Navarro, C. J., Silver, D., & Clark, T. N. (2015). Wymiary i charakter kulturowy miasta. In M. Klekotko & C. J. Navarro (Eds.), Wymiary kulturowe polskich miast i miasteczek. Kraków: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Jagiello´nskiego. Kluckmann, M. (2016). Practicing Community: Outline of a Praxeological Approach to the Feeling of We-ness. Cultural Analysis, 15 (1), 28–56. Kretzmann, J. P., & McKnight, J. L. (1996). Mapping Community Capacity. Evanston: Northwestern University. Landry, C. (2002). The Creative City: A Toolkit for Urban Innovators. London: Earthscan. Landry, C. (2006). The Art of City Making. London: Earthscan. Lash, S. (1994). Reflexivity and Its Doubles: Structures, Aesthetics, Community. In U. Beck, A. Giddens, & S. Lash (Eds.), Reflexive Modernization: Politics, Tradition and Aesthetics in the Modern Social Order (pp. 110–173). Cambridge: Polity Press. Levy, D., McDade, Z., & Bertumen, K. (2013). Mixed-Income Living: Anticipated and Realized Benefits for Low-Income Households. Cityscape, 15 (2), 15–28.

7 Urban Inequalities and Egalitarian Scenes …

137

Lloyd, R. (2007). Neo-Bohemia: Art and Commerce in the Postindustrial City. New York: Routledge. Maffesoli, M. (1996). The Time of the Tribes: The Decline of Individualization in Mass Society. London: Sage. Markusen, A. (2006). Urban Development and the Politics of Creative Class: Evidence from the Study of Artists. Environment and Planning, 38(10), 1921–1940. Markusen, A., & Gadwa, A. (2010). Creative Placemaking. Washington, DC: National Endowments of the Arts. Melucci, A. (1989). Nomads of the Present: Social Movements and Individual Needs in Contemporary Society. London: Hutchinson Radius. Miles, S. (1996, June). The Cultural Capital of Consumption: Understanding ‘Postmodern’ Identities in a Cultural Context. Culture & Psychology, 2(2), 139–158. Nawratek, K. (2011). City as a Political Idea: Citizenship, Sovereignty and Politics. Plymouth: University of Plymouth Press. Nawratek, K. (2012). Holes in the Whole. Washington, DC: Zero Books. Paton, K. (2012). Not the Only Power in Town? Challenging Binaries and Bringing Working Class into Gentrification Research. In G. Bridge, T. Butler, & L. Lees (Eds.), Mixed Communities: Gentrification by Stealth? (pp. 251–271). Bristol, UK: Policy Press. Rheingold, H. (1993). The Virtual Community: Homesteading on the Electronic Frontier. Boston: Addison-Wesley. Ruano, M. (1998). Eco-Urbanism: Sustainable Human Settlements, 60 Case Studies. New York: Watson-Guptill Publications. Schneekloth, L. H., & Shibley, R. G. (1995). Placemaking: The Art and Practice of Building Communities. New York: Wiley. Sharifi, A. (2016). From Garden City to Eco-Urbanism: The Quest for Sustainable Neighborhood Development. Sustainable Cities and Society, 20, 1–16. Shields, R. (1992). Lifestyle Shopping: The Subject of Consumption. London and New York: Routledge. Silver, D. A., & Clark, T. N. (2016). Scenescapes: How Qualities of Place Shape Social Life. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Silver, D. A., Clark T. N., & Graziul, C. (2011). Scenes, Innovation and Urban Development. In D. E. Anderson, A. E. Anderson, & C. Mellander (Eds.), Handbook of Creative Cities (pp. 229–258). Cheltenham and Northampton: Edward Elgar Publishing. Wellman, B. (1979). The Community Question: The Intimate Networks of East Yorkers. American Journal of Sociology, 84 (5), 1201–1231.

138

M. Klekotko

Wellman, B. (2001). The Rise of Networked Individualism. In L. Keeble & B. Loader (Eds.), Community Informatics (pp. 17–42). London: Routledge. Znaniecki, F. (1936). Social Actions. New York: Farrar & Rinehart. Zukin, S. (1995). The Culture of Cities. London: Blackwell. Zukin, S. (1998). Urban Lifestyles: Diversity and Standardisation in Spaces of Consumption. Urban Studies, 35 (5–6), 825–839.

8 Outcomes of Urban Requalification Under Neoliberalism: A Critical Appraisal of the SRU Model Rosa Branco and Sónia Alves

Introduction In this chapter, we scrutinise the dimensions of discourse and sociocultural practice in order to examine the circumstances, means, and ends/impacts of the Urban Rehabilitation Societies’ (SRU) institutional model of deliberation in the fields of housing and urban renewal in Porto and Lisbon. We draw on Fairclough and Fairclough’s (2012) ‘practical argumentation’ framework to apply a Critical Discourse Analysis (CDA) approach to the formulation and implementation of the SRU model. R. Branco (B) Interdisciplinary Centre of Social Sciences - CICS.NOVA, Faculdade de Ciências Sociais e Humanas - NOVA FCSH, Lisbon, Portugal e-mail: [email protected] S. Alves Cambridge Centre for Housing and Planning Research, Department of Land Economy, University of Cambridge, Cambridge, UK e-mail: [email protected] Instituto de Ciências Sociais, Universidade de Lisboa, Lisboa, Portugal © The Author(s) 2020 M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al. (eds.), Inequality and Uncertainty, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1_8

139

140

R. Branco and S. Alves

We aim to discuss how a context of crisis and austerity has provided a legitimate alibi for the inscription of neoliberal narratives, grounded in the virtues of the market, in the field of housing and urban renewal in Portugal, and how discourses and arguments related to housing and urban renewal led to the creation of new legal frameworks and institutions with the power to deliver entrepreneurial and discretionary models of urban renewal beyond existing state bureaucracies. Specifically, the CDA conducted in this chapter is developed around the following research questions: 1. How has the SRU rehabilitation1 model shaped issues of affordable housing provision for low and middle-income families? 2. How have political actors and practitioners with different roles defined and framed strategies and results regarding housing provision? Our research used two main sources of information. On the one hand, documentary sources such as legislation and written policy texts, which were used to frame discourse analysis. On the other, the testimonies given in nine semi-structured interviews. These interviews (digitally recorded with the permission of each interviewee) were conducted with staff and officials working in SRUs, in the municipalities of Lisbon and Porto and at the central institution responsible for housing policy in Portugal in 2015.2 The topic guide was made up of open questions and a loose structure, focusing on institutional models of urban requalification (the circumstances that justified their creation, means, practices), and the appraisal of the SRU model regarding its impacts on housing, urban renewal, and social structure. The guide specifically addressed measures to provide affordable rental housing in situ and to maintain less resourceful families in the city 1 In

this paper we use the terms ‘renewal’, ‘requalification’, and ‘rehabilitation’ interchangeably, to describe actions that aim to improve the physical condition of buildings and infrastructures in order to adapt them to contemporary requirements or new uses. For the sake of clarity, in Portugal, whereas the concept of renewal (renovação) has been used to designate operations that involve partial or significant demolition of existing structures, requalification and rehabilitation (requalificação, reabilitação) refer to operations that do not involve the demolition of existing buildings, aiming at the maintenance of heritage buildings and landscapes. 2 Instituto da Habitação e da Reabilitação Urbana (IHRU, Institut for Housing and Urban Rehabilitation).

8 Outcomes of Urban Requalification Under Neoliberalism

141

centres. The use of open questions and a loose structure allowed participants to voice their opinions, viewpoints, and attitudes, which provided us with the basis for a CDA study.

Theoretical Framework Critical Discourse Analysis According to Marcuse (2015), effective and socially aware public policy research should interrogate the language used in urban policy and confront such language with issues of power, as language has important political implications, supporting the legitimacy of the status quo. Jacobs and Manzi (1996), Marston (2002), and Hastings (2000) claim that power in politics resides in the process whereby problems are constructed and articulated, since it is through language that we experience politics. The manner in which the problem is discursively represented is also important because it contains an explicit or implicit diagnosis as to what the problem is and how it should be addressed. For example, growing literature on gentrification has revealed that capital-intensive urban redevelopment has increasingly been prosecuted, and sometimes initiated, by the state (Van Gent and Boterman 2018), justifying the important role critical analysis of discursive practices plays in the fields of housing and urban rehabilitation policy. Employed across a wide range of areas in the social sciences (cf. urban regeneration, housing policy, etc.), CDA investigates discourse as a form of power: ‘systems of discourse are closely associated with ideology, hegemony and with the enactment and legitimation of power’ (Marston 2002: 5). In the context of these studies, ‘policy problems’ are not seen as objective facts, but rather contested realities that need to be examined critically. Therefore, CDA provides a basis on which to challenge the concept of ‘objectivity’, particularly as it is used in bureaucratic discourses that have the power to create, maintain, and reinforce inequality, as well as hegemonic constructions of ‘housing realities’ (Saugeres 1999). The so-called ‘CDA group’ of authors focuses primarily on how power relations are exercised and negotiated in discourse. The Analysis shows

142

R. Branco and S. Alves

how power relations are maintained/changed, by revealing connections between language, power, and ideology. In CDA, ideology has been used to describe the way that ideas and the values that comprise them reflect particular interests on the part of the powerful (Machin and Mayr 2012: 25). Norman Fairclough (2013), one of the founders of CDA, developed an approach to discourse analysis that can be readily utilised for the purposes of empirical research/inquiry. Specifically, in their book ‘Political discourse analysis’, Fairclough and Fairclough (2012) provide conceptual tools for the analysis of practical argumentation in the context of political discourses (means-ends argumentation, cf. we should do A to achieve X, and the argument used). As Isabela and Norman Fairclough explain, practical argumentation is often characterised by complex chains, not only of means and ends (goals) but of goals and circumstances (Fairclough and Fairclough 2012), and is associated with specific strategies. Using CDA, researchers should, therefore, scrutinise the circumstances, means, and results of local actors who operate in specific political and social contexts, often related to processes of institutional change and evolving institutional practices.

National Context The 1970s is described by Konzelmann et al. (2018) as a decade of economic instability and industrial unrest in Europe, leading to the reversal of post-war Keynesian economics and politics. It represents the end of the Keynesian consensus between capital and labour that allowed in most western and central European countries continuous government investment in education, social welfare, housing, etc. The 1970s was, however, very different in Portugal. In April 1974, a revolution put an end to a dictatorial regime that ruled the country for 41 years (1933–1974), with disappointing results in terms of wages, education, life expectancy, and housing conditions (Alves 2015, 2017), initiating a period of higher government spending on welfare programmes. The political shift occurred, however, in a very adverse macroeconomic and ideological period, characterised by, on the one hand, the shift from the previous consensus (of post-war Keynesian politics) to a neoliberal

8 Outcomes of Urban Requalification Under Neoliberalism

143

context of strong confidence in the market. And on the other, rapid population growth, associated with high immigration rates related to the influx of thousands of war refugees from the ex-colonies of Mozambique and Angola. In a context of high levels of poverty and weak state intervention, low-income families had to rely on self-building or an illegal market to have access to a house which led to the expansion of informal settlements. Problems of housing shortages and affordability increased in the 1980s in most urban areas. In the 1990s, following Portugal’s accession to the European Economic Community (in 1986), the country saw a cycle of continuous growth and low unemployment rates (4%) that was cited by a decade of centre-right governments to promote homeownership. In a context of low interest rates, the housing sector, as emphasised by Tulumello et al. (2018), was conceived as ‘a productive sector’. Disproportionate government investment in subsidised loans/mortgages and tax deductions led to an increasing rate of owner occupation that in 2011 peaked at 73%. A decade later, the worldwide economic and financial crisis of 2008 led Portugal to an economic recession involving the loss of jobs and a reduction in purchasing power. In 2013, the unemployment rate reached a peak of 16.2%. Several banks collapsed, families lost their homes, and the government had to borrow from abroad. Given dependence on foreign financing and a high national deficit, the implementation of austerity policies deepened the economic crisis, which led to further poverty and inequality. Traces of a Mediterranean welfare regime characterised by strong fragmentation of social protection in terms of programmes and beneficiaries (namely between protected insiders in permanent employment versus jobless unprotected outsiders) were reinforced by the political and economic austerity that followed. With investors and public officials treating housing as a commodity (produced, sold, and managed for private profit) cycles of investment in the built environment became to be primarily driven by financial rather than use value reasons—an investment to accumulate wealth (Marcuse 2015: 191). At the local level, a shift was observed in the role of local government from the basic function of regulating and managing the production of housing and the built environment (Sorensen 2018), to an entrepreneurial

144

R. Branco and S. Alves

role in which public officials seemed determined to attract footloose capital and an affluent middle class increasingly interested in central locations. The high proportion of social and private rented housing in inner areas, associated with low rents, derelict dwellings, and families working in the low-paid service jobs, make these areas increasingly vulnerable to neoliberal narratives that in a context of crisis and austerity emphasise the virtues of the market.

Methodology In this section we present a critical appraisal of SRU implementation in Lisbon and Porto, based on the CDA framework used in Fairclough and Fairclough (2012) and interviews, that were conducted with SRU staff and officials, local administration staff, and officials, and counterparts in the central administration. Initially structured as a primary source of information to complement documentary data on urban requalification policy, these interviews aimed to clarify the views of representatives and technical staff involved in the projects implemented by Lisbon and Porto SRUs. The nine interviews were conducted with: members of staff and officials working in SRUs (5); the local municipalities of Lisbon and Porto (2), and the central institution responsible for housing policy (2). The guide we used for the interviews consisted of open questions and a loose structure to give participants the opportunity to voice their opinions, viewpoints, and attitudes. It was structured around two main groups of questions: (1) The efficacy of institutional models of urban requalification in terms of housing outcomes (prices, tenure, occupation) and their impacts on social structure; (2) The SRU model—role, targets/strategies (in terms of area, social-based, aims, etc.), housing outcomes (prices, tenure, occupation), and its impacts on social structure. It specifically addressed measures to provide affordable rental housing in situ and maintain less resourceful families in central areas. All interviews were conducted face-to-face and digitally recorded with the permission of interviewees. They were subsequently anonymised, transcribed, and codified.

8 Outcomes of Urban Requalification Under Neoliberalism

145

The Urban Rehabilitation Societies Model: An Empirical Application of Critical Discourse Analysis The Background of SRU Implementation in Lisbon and Porto In this section we present a critical appraisal of SRUs implementation in Lisbon and Porto, based on the CDA framework used in Fairclough and Fairclough (2012) and interviews focusing on the values, goals, and circumstances of different political and technical actors involved. The SRU model was first formulated by central government legislation in 2004 as a tool to boost urban requalification in city centres facing a long-lasting decline in population and grave problems of building and infrastructure degradation. According to census data, between 1981 and 2001 the municipality of Lisbon lost approximately 330,000 inhabitants, and the municipality of Porto 90,000, that is, around 30% of their residents. As for the built stock, 19% of all buildings were vacant in 2011 in Porto and 16% in Lisbon. In Porto and Lisbon, according to the 2011 Census, the rental sector represents 44 and 42% of housing respectively, a share that is substantially higher than the national average (20%). Considerable stock of housing characterised by old contracts and low rents are the result of decades of rent control and public disinvestment. Poor housing conditions typically accommodate sitting tenants with low economic resources, who are therefore more exposed to displacement due to rent increases. Given a climate of economic crisis and austerity, the creation of SRUs was allegedly justified to promote greater efficiency and cutbacks in public bureaucracy. Representing a new institutional arrangement, SRUs were created as publicly-owned companies.3 A large range of powers and competencies, such as contracting loans, setting urban, and housing strategies, licensing private operations, expropriating or forcing the sale of buildings, 3 Ownership

could be exclusively by the local municipality (as was the case in Lisbon), or through a partnership between the municipality and central state via the Institute of Housing and Urban Rehabilitation (the model adopted by Porto Vivo SRU).

146

R. Branco and S. Alves

were transferred from local municipalities to the SRUs. The non-profit corporate status of the SRU model made it easier to employ staff, contract commercial loans, and to implement faster licensing procedures, allegedly improving the cost-effectiveness of urban rehabilitation by the private sector. SRU rehabilitation operations required framing by strategic documents approved by SRU administrations and the municipality and could be implemented either directly by SRUs or in association with partners (within the frame of specific contracts). It was envisaged that SRUs would work in close cooperation with municipalities and the central state to promote rehabilitation in the so-called ‘Urban Rehabilitation Areas’ (ARU in the Portuguese acronym), but with substantial freedom to define their strategy of action. Subsequent revisions of SRU legislation (in 2009 and 2012) and the effects of the financial and economic crisis reinforced this model as an opportunity for market-led operations in housing due to strong restrictions on public funding for such operations and, on the other hand, limitations on commercial banking loans for public institutions. In practice, funding schemes for rehabilitation by private owners have been drastically reduced in recent years and replaced by tax reductions and benefits. Regarding the funding schemes available for SRUs specifically related to urban rehabilitation operations, the European Bank of Investment (EIB) has been one of the most relevant sources, followed by the Joint European Support for Sustainable Investment in City Areas programme (JESSICA) in the 2007–2013 period and smaller central government programmes managed by the IHRU (see Branco and Alves 2018 for further detail). Both Porto and Lisbon were in the front line of the creation of SRUs, having set up their companies in 2004, immediately following the publication of the legislation that created this model. In Lisbon, three SRUs were created for small areas across the city, but only one of them—Lisboa Ocidental SRU—carried on a rehabilitation strategy while the other two were dismantled by the municipality in 2009. Located outside the core historic centre in a middle class area near important national monuments built in the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries, the company is 100% owned by the municipality of Lisbon and had an intervention area representing around 1% of the municipality’s area and around 1300 buildings. Until

8 Outcomes of Urban Requalification Under Neoliberalism

147

2018, when the municipality extensively reviewed its intervention area and competencies, its activity focused on direct intervention in both public spaces and SRU/municipal buildings with a strong emphasis on promoting rehabilitation by owners, who are predominantly local residents or small-scale investors, and almost exclusively funded by EIB loans. Porto Vivo SRU is jointly owned, 60% belonging to the central state (through IHRU) and 40% by the municipality of Porto. The historic centre rehabilitation area, the main territory of intervention, is a world heritage site located in the city centre of approximately 5 sq km—12.5% of the municipality’s area—and 1800 buildings. The overall strategy of Porto Vivo SRU was defined in 2005 in the Masterplan of Porto Vivo SRU (Porto Vivo SRU and Câmara Municipal do Porto 2005) and was implemented through a mix of approaches consisting of small-scale (quarter) strategic documents, urban rehabilitation contracts with private partners or real estate funds, direct rehabilitation of derelict buildings owned by the SRU, and integrated public space operations (the latter two funded by national and structural pots).

Critical Discourse Analysis of Urban Rehabilitation Societies’ Implementation in Lisbon and Porto As mentioned, we use Fairclough and Fairclough’s practical argumentation framework for the CDA of the SRU model. The approach to practical argumentation developed in Fairclough and Fairclough (2012) is a normative one, that is, arguments are evaluated as well as analysed. They can be critically evaluated on several grounds. For example, against evidence of the consequences that pursuing a specific line of action will have on stated goals or other goals, against evidence that there are other better means than those advocated for achieving the goals, or against the biased way existing states of affairs are represented, interpreted, or ‘problematised’ (the circumstantial premise) (for more details, see Fairclough and Fairclough 2015). Figure 8.1 presents the practical argumentation structure developed by Fairclough and Fairclough which conceptualises actors’ choices of action. The figure illustrates the meaning and connections between the concepts

148

R. Branco and S. Alves

Fig. 8.1 Structure of practical argumentation (Fairclough and Fairclough 2012: 45)

used by the authors, who have extended CDA methodologies in order to incorporate them in the description of practical reasoning concerns that are central to our case study. Existing states of affairs are represented in the Circumstantial premise, possible, and desirable alternative future states of affairs are represented in the Goal premise. Goals are shaped by both internal reasons (related to values) and external reasons (such as duties and obligations), and they do not necessarily represent agents’ wishes regarding choices or courses of action. This acknowledges that actors are constrained by the political, institutional, and economic circumstances of their work contexts. As for Means, these correspond to actions that will lead the agent from a current set of circumstances to an envisaged state of affairs. The Means-Goal premise has a conditional form: if a course of action A is pursued, it will (or is likely) to take us from the existing state of affairs C to the desirable future one G in accordance with values V. The practical claim advocates pursuing a particular course of action. Taking the means to the goal G (performing action A) is, allegedly, the solution to the problem identified in the Circumstantial premise.

8 Outcomes of Urban Requalification Under Neoliberalism

149

Analysis of the Interviews For the purposes of this analysis, the data collected from the interviews was analysed according to three groups of interviewees: (A) staff and officials working in the SRU; (B) staff and officials working in the local municipalities of Lisbon and Porto, and (C) staff and officials working in the central institution responsible for housing policy. In Annex 2, we present a selection of quotations that illustrate their individual viewpoints in the frame of each component of the structure. Table 8.1 presents in a systematised way the results of the interviews for the Means-Goal premise by groups of interviewees. The analysis has enabled us to identify similarities in the answers of different groups of interviewees regarding the ‘values’ and ‘circumstances’ components, demonstrating that there is a certain consensus among actors from different institutions involved in the formulation and implementation of the SRU model. On the one hand, there is a common or similar framing in the circumstantial premise, that a world and national economic crisis demanded a context of austerity associated with cutbacks in public spending, requiring a new approach to urban renewal and housing. Moreover, the idea that previous decades of urban rehabilitation policy in Portugal had been ineffective and costly, and that a new approach was needed, was used to support a different claim for action, one centred in the mobilisation of private investment as the key driver of rehabilitation. The argumentation developed by the interviewees reveal the dominance of economic efficiency as a driving concern. Interviewees emphasised the prevailing idea that the new urban renewal model should be cost-efficient, while values of social cohesion and sustainability were only mentioned secondarily and only by groups B and C. It has been argued that neoliberal policies are in fact ideology-driven (Konzelmann et al. 2018) and that the government’s real goal is to legitimise policies that are driven by private rather than public interests; looking at Table 8.1, it is possible to observe the overall presence of neoliberal ideas and approaches, centred on the claim that public actions should focus on public spaces and supporting investment by private actors.

150

R. Branco and S. Alves

Table 8.1 The formulation of goals, means-goals, and the actions which were chosen and are supported by the actors’ argumentation (claim for action) Group

Goals

Means-goals

Claim for action

(A) SRU

Intervention area with requalified housing and high-quality urban spaces

Pursue the requalification of public spaces and public buildings and support private investors to maximise requalification Pursue the requalification of public spaces and public buildings and support private investors to maximise requalification

We aim to renovate public space/owned buildings and induce private investment in requalification

Decentralise policy implementation and provide both an adequate institutional framework and incentives to boost urban requalification while controlling public spending

We need to prevent city-centre crisis by mobilising all public and private actors

(B) Local Intervention area administration with requalified housing and high-quality urban spaces. Protected heritage and city-scale balanced development (C) Central Empowered local administration administration and SRUs effectively implementing urban requalification policies

We aim to renovate public spaces and owned buildings and induce private investment in requalification

At the central government, broader concerns are apparent in the definition of actions. There is a strong commitment to the devolution of competencies but also great concern for financial sustainability, while the strategies and operations formulated and implemented on the ground should promote economic growth. At the local and national levels, there is a common discourse that the processes of gentrification, related to processes of urban renewal/requalification are necessary for the redevelopment

8 Outcomes of Urban Requalification Under Neoliberalism

151

of historic centres of cities such as Porto, without however problematising who will ultimately benefit. The results of our research confirm Fairclough and Fairclough’s claim that: “the selection of what counts as relevant circumstances are determined by the arguer’s concerns and values” (Fairclough and Fairclough 2012: 47). Our research effectively confirms the central role of values for the interpretation of circumstances and possible courses of action. For example, when rehabilitation in the context of partnership contracts involved the reassignment of housing uses, priority was given to the facilitation of private investment by cutting back bureaucracy, the relocation of previous tenants in other areas, and other measures that enabled project implementation according to private actors’ interests. In addition, it is interesting to recall that the neoliberal model was not imposed on the actors. In their discursive practices, actors claim to be convinced that the neoliberal model is the best solution for the physical rehabilitation of the built environment and claim that social issues are beyond their competence and must be resolved by other institutions (e.g. displacement/relocation of existing tenants via social housing). Argumentation in support of this line of action drew, on the one hand, upon a partial understanding of what the actors consider to be the values at stake in public intervention, leading institutions such as SRUs to prioritise efficiency and the physical and social upgrading of the areas over social concerns (social cohesion, social inclusion). The dominant concern for all actors was financial constraints, not the social well-being of tenants or the maintenance of a social mix in central areas. The main determinant of choices was a circumstantial lack of public resources, but also the dominant view that a neoliberal model was more adequate to implement city centre rehabilitation, a policy shift that was seen as necessary and, for some actors, desirable. In this new policy paradigm, the role of SRUs was seen to manage, coordinate, and facilitate investment, stepping back as a provider of funding in favour of private (and mainly commercial) investors. While economic concerns such as cost-efficiency and financial sustainability ranked high in the actors’ priorities, social concerns were devalued, even though the context of social crisis associated with austerity policies was quite dramatic.

152

R. Branco and S. Alves

While rationales for action are similar among local actors, specificities were noted, deriving from their context of action, which was significantly different between Lisbon and Porto, with more conflicting views in the latter city, essentially due to the interpretation of the consequences of the SRU’s actions. In concrete terms, disagreement over the extent to which the goal of financial sustainability was compromised by Porto Vivo SRU’s renewal projects introduced a breach in argumentation supporting the involvement of private investors, which led local and central administration actors to incorporate accountability and public service values as concerns in their discourses (for more details, see Alves and Branco 2018).

Conclusion Using CDA, a methodology for the analysis of policy discourse and policymaking, in this paper we attempt to demonstrate how language shapes the definition of Goals, Means-Goals, and a Claim for Action, which shape the social production and practices of institutions. The importance of this becomes evident when we, after Fairclough and Fairclough (2012), claim that what distinguishes political discourse from other types of discourse is that it involves deliberation over what ought to be done in the context of divergent interests and values, scarcity of resources, uncertainty, and risk. From this perspective, using CDA to examine how desirable courses of action are framed helps us to understand not only the ideological setting in which a particular discourse is produced, but also why and for whom choices are made. This contributes to our ability to answer two fundamental questions: Who has the power in the city, and what they do with that power? (Hall et al. 2008). Whereas new policy vocabulary attempts to legitimise specific programmes and approaches, critical theory, as Marcuse (2015) claims, should emphasise the disjuncture between the actual and the possible. Whereas in our earlier paper (Branco and Alves 2018) we demonstrate that, following a phase characterised by more distributive policies aiming at pursuing equality, neoliberal ideology has become a dominant paradigm in Portugal in the field of urban renewal and housing, in the current paper we attempt to scrutinise in detail the practical arguments for why public

8 Outcomes of Urban Requalification Under Neoliberalism

153

officials have sought to justify pursuing a more market-orientated and market-dependent course of action. What this research makes evident is that in the mind-set of public officials there is increasing separation between, on the one hand, the physical rehabilitation of historic centres through the renovation of buildings and public spaces to attract new population and uses, and on the other the ‘social intervention’ that public officials claim should be provided for a limited group of people with low incomes and through separated mechanisms (a social housing sector) that is residual in Portugal.4 Where once concerned with slum clearance and the improvement of housing conditions for existing low and middle-income population, housing and urban policies are currently concerned with improving conditions for markets to operate more efficiently and foster the economic growth of a narrow section of interests. The choice to support private investors rather than support the welfare of households raises concerns about the adverse effects of market-led interventions in terms of reinforcing inequalities between socio-economic groups and residential enclaves within the city (cf. Alves 2016). The current phase of market-supportive neoliberalism (for more details, see Allmedinger 2016) in cities with increasing investment in tourism, while bearing a heritage of a poor working class and degraded buildings, has exposed sitting tenants to various forms of displacement, destroying the identity of historical centres related to their activities, the mixture of social classes, but also feeding real estate speculation, which has increased the value of housing and rents. After a decade of SRU intervention, official statistics show that rents in the centres of Lisbon and Porto saw a period of rapid growth from 2015 onwards under pressure from foreign investment and tourism,5 threatening the maintenance of a middle class and its traditionally mixed social identity. To conclude, the results of our application of CDA confirm that, in a context of austerity policies this new institutional and policy phase has 4 For

a critique of this approach, see Alves and Burgess (2018). the first trimester of 2016 and the second trimester of 2018 the added variation in the median value per m2 of dwellings sales (e) was 34% in Porto and 47% in Lisbon (source: Estatisticas de preços da habitação ao nível local, Quarterly, available at www.ine.pt).

5 Between

154

R. Branco and S. Alves

been driven by ideology. The creation of the SRUs institutional framework and of legislation which deregulated rents enabled policy options for an urban rehabilitation model that favoured private sector interests at the expense of low and middle class interests (Branco and Alves 2018). Furthermore, analysis of the discourse of actors working on the ground revealed that this neoliberal narrative was fully assimilated by the actors thus playing a decisive role in their choices of action. In terms of the policy implications of our study, we would like to emphasise two general recommendations. First, that housing and rehabilitation policies should not support real estate speculation, gentrification, and the displacement of tenants but should rather focus on the eradication of poor housing and foster the maintenance of the authenticity and mixed social character of locations. Second, alternative modes of thinking and acting should be pursued. In this regard, there is a wealth of experience, in terms of taxation, subsidies, and price regulation (Whitehead and Williams 2018). In the planning field we recommend the implementation of ‘inclusionary zoning’ tools that require the inclusion of on-site affordable housing provision as part of general market developments and as a condition of planning approval. The underlying idea that the owner has no moral right to the full increase of land value that arises from planning decisions is generally accepted even in liberal countries (see Couch 2016 for the case of England) where site-by-site negotiations attempt to secure the provision of cheap land for non-profit housing associations. Acknowledgement Within the framework of a Marie Sklodowska-Curie Individual Fellowship, Sónia Alves has received funding from the European Union’s Horizon 2020 research and innovation programme under grant agreement No. 747257. We also acknowledge financial support from FCT—Fundação para a Ciência e a Tecnologia, I.P., under the project Sustainable urban requalification and vulnerable populations in the historical centre of Lisbon (PTDC/GESURB/28853/2017).

8 Outcomes of Urban Requalification Under Neoliberalism

155

Annex 1: List of interviewees Institution

Position

Roles

Porto Vivo SRU

Senior officer

Porto Vivo SRU Porto Vivo SRU

Technical staff Administration

Porto Municipality IHRU (Central office)

Political staff Administration

IHRU (Porto delegation) Lisboa Ocidental SRU

Senior officer Technical staff

Lisboa Ocidental SRU

Administration

Lisbon Municipality

Senior officer

Project implementation Management Project implementation Policy making Management Policy making Policy making Management Management Project implementation Management Policy making Management Project implementation Management

Annex 2: Statements from interviewees according to practical argumentation premises Goals

“There are companies dedicated to those tasks: social housing, social inclusion, dynamization programs. Not us: our goal is to rehabilitate. Rehabilitate the public space and rehabilitate the buildings” (Lisboa Ocidental SRU—Administration) “Those who are dedicated to make urban rehabilitation are the municipalities and it starts as a basic work which is [to rehabilitate] public space (…) cities are condominiums, and the municipality is their administration” (Porto Municipality—Political staff) (continued)

156

R. Branco and S. Alves

(continued) Circumstances

Means-goal

Claim for action

“At this moment, a notable blockage is shortage of funding.” (IHRU—Central office) “[the main blockages to urban rehabiliation are] the financial deficit of the country, if there was money available to push forward, to help, to make partnerships with private actors, all of this would move. There is no money.” (Porto Vivo SRU—Senior officer) “There was a conscience of the need to change. It was important to promote rehabilitation, to mobilize the owners, involve investors and even include international investors and, therefore, all that need for a change in strategy” (Porto Vivo SRU—Technical staff) “the attraction of new residents is very important, because it rehabilitates patrimony and is an incentive to rehabilitate other occupied [buildings]” (Porto Vivo SRU—Technical staff) “Private actores are in command, firstly because they are more in number and secondly because they have more means to do it that public actors.” (Porto Vivo SRU—Senior officer) “There is a change in our strategic alignement. We no longer have the financial means (…) there is a very importante role to be played by the SRU which is almost an investment agency. I am not talking about large projects, but small projects by small national or foreign investors” (Porto Vivo SRU—Administration) “Public space is the priority, because public space is what we do alone, private actors don’t rehabilitate public space. It is up to the state to have a rehabilitated and well-maintained public space […] building rehabilitation should be residual and limited to what private actors don’t do.” (Lisboa Ocidental SRU—Administration) “Incentivating urban rehabilitation is an absolutely fundamental strategy (…) this happens in a moment were financial means are scarce, municipalities are much more indebt and the central state has less means to support these operations” (IHRU central office—Administration)

8 Outcomes of Urban Requalification Under Neoliberalism

157

References Allmedinger, P. (2016). Neoliberal Spatial Governance. London: Routledge. Alves, S. (2015). Welfare State Changes and Outcomes: The Cases of Portugal and Denmark from a Comparative Perspective. Social Policy & Administration, 49 (1), 1–23. Alves, S. (2016). Spaces of Inequality: It’s Not Differentiation, It Is Inequality! A Socio-Spatial Analysis of the City of Porto. Portuguese Journal of Social Science, 15 (3), 409–431. Alves, S. (2017). Poles Apart? A Comparative Study of Housing Policies and Outcomes in Portugal and Denmark. Housing, Theory and Society, 34 (2), 221–248. Alves, S., & Branco, R. (2018). With or Without You: Models of Urban Requalification Under Neoliberalism in Portugal. In S. Aboim, P. Granjo, & A. Ramos (Eds.), Changing Societies: Legacies and Challenges. Vol. i. Ambiguous Inclusions: Inside Out, Inside in (pp. 457–479). Lisboa: Imprensa de Ciências Sociais. Alves, S., & Burgess, G. (2018, October 25, 26). Planning Policies and Affordable Housing: A Cross-Comparative Analysis of Portugal, England and Denmark. International Conference on the Global Dynamics of Social Policy, University of Bremen, Germany. Branco, R., & Alves, S. (2018). Urban Rehabilitation, Governance, and Housing Affordability: Lessons from Portugal. Urban Research and Practice. https://doi. org/10.1080/17535069.2018.1510540. Couch, C. (2016). Urban Planning—An Introduction. London: Palgrave. Fairclough, I., & Fairclough, N. (2012). Political Discourse Analysis: A Method for Advanced Students. London: Routledge. Fairclough, N. (2013). Critical Discourse Analysis and Critical Policy Studies. Critical Policy Studies, 7 (2), 177–197. https://doi.org/10.1080/19460171. 2013.798239. Fairclough, N., & Fairclough, I. (2015). Textual Analysis. In M. Bevir & R. A. W. Rhodes (Eds.), The Routledge Handbook of Interpretive Political Science (pp. 186–198). London: Routledge. Hall, T., Hubbard, P., & Short, J. R. (Eds.). (2008). The Sage Companion to the City. London: Sage. Hastings, A. (2000). Discourse Analysis: What Does It Offer Housing Studies? Housing, Theory and Society, 17 (3), 131–139. Jacobs, K., & Manzi, T. (1996). Discourse and Policy Change: The Significance of Language for Housing Research. Housing Studies, 11(4), 543–560.

158

R. Branco and S. Alves

Konzelmann, S. J., Deakin, S., Fovargue-Davies, M., & Wilkinson, F. (2018). Labour, Finance & Inequality: The Insecurity Cycle in British Public Policy. Abingdon: Routledge. Machin, D., & Mayr, A. (2012). How to Do Critical Discourse Analysis—A Multimodal Introduction. London: Sage. Marcuse, P. (2015). Depoliticizing Urban Discourse: How “We” Write. Cities, 44, 152–156. Marston, G. (2002). Critical Discourse Analysis and Policy-Orientated Housing Research. Housing, Theory and Society, 19 (2), 82–91. Porto Vivo SRU and Câmara Municipal do Porto. (2005). Masterplan para a Revitalização Urbana e Social da Baixa do Porto. Accessed 15 May 2017. http:// www.portovivosru.pt/pt/area-de-atuacao/enquadramento. Saugeres, L. (1999). The Social Construction of Housing Management Discourse: Objectivity, Rationality and Everyday Practice. Housing, Theory and Society, 16 (3), 93–105. Sorensen, A. (2018). Institutions and Urban Space: Land, Infrastructure, and Governance in the Production of Urban Property. Planning Theory & Practice, 19 (1), 21–38. Tulumello, S., Ferreira, A. C., Colombo, A., Di Giovanni, C., & Allegra, M. (2018). Comparative Planning and Housing Studies Beyond Taxonomy: A Genealogy of the Special Programme for Rehousing (Portugal). Transactions of AESOP, 2, 32–46. Van Gent, W., & Boterman, W. (2018). Gentrification of the Changing State. Tijdschrift Voor Economische En Sociale Geografie. https://doi.org/10.1111/tesg. 12331. Whitehead, C., & Williams, P. (2018). Assessing the Evidence on Rent Control from an International Perspective. Accessed 2 December 2018. https://research.rla.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/LSE-InternationalEvidence-on-Rent-Control-Report-2018-Final.pdf.

Part III Urban Diversity and Boundaries

9 Feeling Safe, Defining Crime and Urban Youth in Berlin’s Inner City: An Exploration of the Construction of ‘Unsafety’ and ‘Youth’ as Symbolic Violence ˇ Talja Blokland and Vojin Serbed zˇ ija

Introduction To be safe from crime in European cities does not equal feeling safe. These may be quite independent from one another (Blokland 2008a). The literature suggests that feelings of safety in urban settings are complex emotional constructs, regulated by feeling rules (Hochschild 2003), positions, locations and psychology (Koskela 2000). Urban safety policies tend to focus on crime prevention. They expect that dropping crime rates increase felt safety. While some argue that surveillance affects feelings of safety positively (Raco 2003; Koskela 2000; Elsinga and Wassenberg 1992) others point to its Foucauldian total governance (Garland 1997; Merry 2001; Boutelier 2002; St. Jean 2007). While providing a disciplining gaze to T. Blokland (B) · V. Šerbedžija Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin, Berlin, Germany e-mail: [email protected] V. Šerbedžija e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2020 M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al. (eds.), Inequality and Uncertainty, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1_9

161

162

ˇ T. Blokland and V. Serbedˇ zija

‘normalise’ behaviour, surveillance may help to solve crimes but not prevent them (Dee 2000). Crime prevention literature, moreover, suggests that urban design affects social control. It is widely argued that control and interventions, of the public or the state, reduce crime and enhance security (e.g. Newman 1973; Wilson and Kelling 1982; Somers 2018; Minnery and Lim 2005; Sampson et al. 1997; Sampson and Raudenbush 2004). While people fearful of becoming victims of crime report higher feelings of unsafety, those statistically most likely to become crime victims are not more fearful (Blokland 2008a; Lewis and Maxfield 1980). The correlation between crime rates and experienced safety is weak at best (Blokland 2008a; Binken and Blokland 2012; Merry 1981). In short, how we construct a sense of safety in the city depends on various material, social and symbolic factors. As far as feeling safe is an emotion that we can sociologically approach— and only to that extent (cf. Hochschild 2003)—in urban contexts, it often involves the construction of a homogeneous imagery of perpetuators causing unsafety. As pointed out in the legendary studies of Hall et al. (1978) on the moral panic around muggers, some criminalised behaviour acquires high visibility through mediated mechanisms. Newspapers, social media and dinner party conversations construct particularly young men, especially minorities, as indicating feelings of unsafety. However, their positions and perspectives still remain invisible. In Europe, initial calls for a focus on their agency (Willis 1977) has produced a strong field of subcultural youth studies (Gelder 2005; Hall and Jefferson 1998; Hodkinson and Deicke 2007). These are not strongly connected to studies of safety or applied science concerned with ‘solving’ the safety problem, often through technological rationality (Marcuse 1941: 421). Critical analyses reach from seeing such youth as scapegoats (Cohen 1972) to approaches interpreting scapegoating of urban male youth as a feature of the transition from a welfare to penal state (Wacquant 2009; Garland 2001; Soss et al. 2011). Containment of the marginalised through punishment and control partake in a neoliberal project. Safety concerns are best understood as hegemonic discourses supporting such neoliberalism. Of course, through the theoretical lens of structures of feelings or feeling rules as unquestioned or common sense and in alignment with the status quo (Gramsci in Applerouth and Desfor Edles 2016: 95–96),

9 Feeling Safe, Defining Crime and Urban Youth …

163

current concerns of neighbourhood safety in European cities may well be understood as tactics to divert of insurgent existential insecurities (see Body-Gendrot 2000). This literature, however, engages primarily with the governance of the marginalised or the governance of fear by the state. Whether or not urbanites act out of structures of feelings determined or impacted by their positionalities, by hegemonic projects or otherwise, their discourses of Othering also reproduce these feelings on the ground of the everyday local encounters. Hochschild calls these ‘feeling rules’: shared conventions that ‘direct how we should feel in particular situations, how intense, and for how long’ (Hochschild 2003: 97). Feeling rules guide the active management of our emotions as we communicate them to others (Hochschild 1983). Seeing emotions in this way, they can be shared or collective (although momentary, too), and we show in our paper that they are part of what Smith calls ‘relations of ruling’: relationships between everyday practices or experiences and larger, institutional imperatives (Smith 1987). As we will see, feeling rules are in relation to institutional imperatives, and agents find ways to relate to them, but are not simply ‘followed’. And yet through the distance between the agents’ silenced everyday practices and emotions and the abstracted generalities in which they are publicly discussed, the common sense remains unquestioned indeed. Through this lens, we show how the construction of urban youth as perpetuators of unsafety by their mere presence in the street emerges as symbolic violence. As Elias argued, the monopoly of physical violence ‘normally’ is now ‘stored behind the scenes of everyday life’ from where it breaks out only in ‘extreme cases into individual life’. But from there, a ‘continuous uniform pressure is exerted, a pressure totally familiar and hardly perceived’ (Elias 2012: 503). Such symbolic violence is ‘the capacity to impose and inculcate means of understandings and structuring the world, or symbolic systems, that contribute to the reproduction of the social order by representing economic and political power in disguised forms that endow them with legitimacy and/or taken-for-grantedness – the best warrant for longevity any order might hope for’ (Wacquant 1987: 66). Bourdieu adds that symbolic violence ‘presupposes on the part of those who are subjected to it a form of complicity which is neither a passive submission to an external constraint nor a free adherence to value. The

164

ˇ T. Blokland and V. Serbedˇ zija

specificity of symbolic violence resides precisely in the fact that it requires of the person who undergoes it an attitude which defies the ordinary alternative between freedom and constraint’ (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992: 168). A further understanding of such complicity may be needed— critical theory is, after all, sometimes too general generalising to help empirical work. This paper explores to what extent ideas of relations of ruling and feeling rules may make the emergence, or at least reproduction, of such complicity empirically tangible. First, we analyse how middle-aged residents discursively construct the ‘perpetuators of unsafety’ at a neighbourhood meeting in a deprived, gentrifying Berlin neighbourhood. We assume that in a ‘hierarchy of credibility’ (Becker 1967: 242), this tenants group has strong positions in relation to state institutions of control (police, social workers, youth workers). When they speak of ‘youth’ (Jugendliche or Jugend ), the words carry no markers of race or gender—and yet everyone seems to know that they do. Second, we seek to view neighbourhood, crime and safety from a standpoint (Smith 1987) of those ‘perpetuators’—a group of residents who are young, male and have migration background mostly in Palestine, Lebanon and Turkey and spend much of their time in the streets. How they experience neighbourhood safety and define crime is the empirical focus from which we then argue that the construction of urban youth, implicitly masculine and racialised, as homogeneous category of perpetuators of unsafety can be seen as a form of symbolic violence as defined by Bourdieu/Wacquant. Moreover, it objectivises them as a ‘neighbourhood problem’ and disqualifies them as residents.

Methods This paper draws on empirical data from a study of youth’s perceptions of their lives, their neighbourhoods and deviance conducted for the Bezirksamt (Blokland and Serbedzija 2018). From November 2017 to June 2018, we conducted fieldwork in two inner city areas in Berlin. This paper focusses on one area, called Wellington Square here. Originally built in the eighteenth century, rebuilt after WW II, and redeveloped between

9 Feeling Safe, Defining Crime and Urban Youth …

165

1968 and 1970, it has two 10-story buildings around a square and pedestrian area with shops, near an abandoned parking garage and greenspaces serving as courtyards of the flats. The privately owned, publicly accessible green spaces were not directly linked to street-level windows and entrances and hardly served as through-ways. Our fieldwork combined (participant) observations (field notes) and individual and group interviews. We spent much time on the street and visited youth clubs and resident meetings and the Quartiersmanagement (QM, Neighbourhood Management1 ). We recorded and transcribed interviews with 37 young, mostly male residents of Arabic, Turkish or South-East-European descent. We interviewed a higher police officer and a state’s child & family services coordinator, had conversations with youth workers, and organised two round tables with various professionals.

The Construction of Urban Youth as Perpetuators of Unsafety To enhance residents’ participation, the QMs’ paid counsellors set themes and then organise regular meetings for the residents. They usually announce these on their website and inform residents whom they know, without further big publicity. On an early winter evening in January 2018, the QM in Wellington Square held a meeting on safety. Four female, white QM members had arranged chairs and rectangular tables in their meeting room and put out coffee, tea and water. The invited guests, two uniformed, white, male police officers from the local police station sat at the head of the table with the QM counsellors, next to a flipchart. Here one of them, a dark-haired woman in her 40s, would write down discussion points later. One of the organisers pointed us, researchers, to chairs aside from the main table, together with two female architecture students who

1 Berlin

installed these organizations in 1999 in response to administratively-statistically designed ‘problem areas’ (Lanz 2009). Aims of QMs are to further participation and ‘neighborhood cohesion’. Their developments are ‘monitored’ through Berlin’s Social Atlas. Areas qualify for QM through a status of Exklusionsgefahr, indicated by a.o. high unemployment, child poverty, welfare payments. See: www.quartiersmanagement-berlin.de.

166

ˇ T. Blokland and V. Serbedˇ zija

also visited. From the chatting, it was clear that most of the attendants knew each other. All attendants introduced themselves; besides the two architecture students, a man representing the City and a spokesperson for the Renters Association came, bringing the total non-residents, including us, to 10 of the 26 people. These residents appeared mostly 50+, white and spoke fluent German. Nobody had a Turkish, Arab or other migration background.2 An older woman shared that she lived here for over 45 years and was in a state of unrest (Unruhezustand ), but did not expand—and was not asked to. The QM counsellor who had taken the lead proposed to collect themes to talk about with the police and stood up to write on the flipchart. ‘Youth’ came up as the first theme, followed by ‘police responsibility’ and ‘prevention inside and outside’. A young female resident introduced herself as a student in social science. She had come with her parents, and narrated that she felt unsafe on the way from the underground to her apartment because of large groups of youth on the square. Three elderly men joked that she ought to come home earlier or much later. Added to the list were then drug dealing and, from the side of the architecture students ‘subjective feeling of safety’ and ‘potential victims and perpetuators’. With people talking at the same time, one resident pointed to ‘youth groups, especially young men, who call each other up to meet (…) in the entrances (…) when I come downstairs in the morning, [I see] cigarette stubs, [they manipulate] the floor lights [so that they do not go off ]’. Another reacted: ‘I am going to make myself unpopular, but all of them are not German men’. She immediately corrected herself and said that they did not appear German as ‘foreign looking men’. Having collected the themes in bullet points, the meeting proceeded to discuss one point after the other, giving residents space to share experiences. A woman shared that ‘youth’ got together behind the shops, smoked there and ‘as far as I know’ sold drugs: ‘they do not bother anybody but…’ she let her sentence unfinished. The police were asked whom to call when one saw drug deals, and the police gave the police station’s number. The police spoke longer about their responsibility, addressing various violence prevention programmes at schools, preventive information meetings for 2 Over

70% of Wellington Square residents classify as ‘migration background’ (QM 2017).

9 Feeling Safe, Defining Crime and Urban Youth …

167

senior citizens, and initiatives with an architect hired by the Police Department to reduce physical ‘spaces of fear’. In further questions and answers, the first officer stressed that reporting to the police determined their statistics: at some point, Wellington Square was statistically a ‘crime-affected area’ (Kriminalitätsbelasteter Ort, KBO 3 ) but since a drop in reporting of crimes, the area had ‘lost’ this status. His colleague added: ‘When it was a KBO, we could do more’. For some time, the conversation then moved to remarks and complaints about the parking garage. The police repeated that they needed concrete calls to act—seemingly also suggesting that not all youth outside were dealing drugs, and the police can only act when there is a crime. A back and forth, with people speaking at the same time, about crime, youth and the need to see them in a ‘differentiated way’ followed, with a shared concern about prejudices. The residents shared experiences of seeing drug use in the abandoned building, encountering groups of youth at night and then stories about the local youth club which had to close temporarily because of too many ‘outsiders’. Feeling rules, Hochschild writes, tell us how we are to feel in certain situations. The participants shared a management of emotions of fear through feeling rules that having general fear for young, migrant men was not acceptable, while quickly ‘unpopular’ if not ‘racist’. While everyone appeared to agree that a ‘differentiated view’ was necessary, the differentiation became only one of those who grew up here and lived here all their lives and youth from outside forming the ‘circle of danger’. Meanwhile, a strong entitlement to subjective experiences as ‘real’ was also shared. The police suggested that without actual crimes, their possibilities were tight. Residents stretched the notion of harm, especially when someone said: ‘Uneasiness inside is also physical assault (Körperverletzung )’. The conversation turned, dominated by the sociology student and her parents, for a long time around how to act in the presence of young men as a woman alone. A sense of anxiety and powerlessness spoke through the words (‘should I buy myself a pepper spray to defend myself?’ ‘Do these women first have to be pulled into the bushes before anything 3The police in Berlin defines an area as ‘crime-affected’ (kriminalitätsbelastet ), when particular crime delicts (among others: robbery and drug dealing) occur above average. In such KBOs the police have further powers—for example identity checks without suspicion. For further details, see: https:// www.berlin.de/polizei/polizeimeldungen/fakten-hintergruende/artikel.597950.php.

168

ˇ T. Blokland and V. Serbedˇ zija

is done?’). The public space here discursively constructed was masculine through which women had to go on their way home (see Bourdieu 2001: 57). The police repeated, without concrete crimes, they could not prosecute anyone—residents continued to express their sense of unsafety and fear, especially for drugs and sexual harassment of women, through the presence of the young men with ‘southern looks’ (and drunken, Eastern European men who carry an ‘aura of violence’). From initial cautious expressions, the implicit reference to a racialised danger became most obvious when one man asked, ‘what about the barbequing after 10 pm’—a remark from the police that this was not allowed was met by an exclamation ‘they barbeque entire sheep here!’. With the typical ‘German’ BBQ consisting of Bratwurst or nowadays also soya burger, ‘they’ were Othered discursively as Muslim. Subtly, then, ‘youth’ was ‘southern looking’, male and Muslim youth. Youth was the first and remained the most present issue of the conversation the entire evening. With the general term, it was implicit and yet clear that residents spoke of specific people: those that refer to themselves—as we will in the rest of the paper—as the boys. They used words and phrases to avoid saying ‘we are fearful of a group of young men racially different from us because although we have no evidence, we think they may sexually assault women and engage in violent crime’. They used implicit wording like ‘foreign look’ or Southerners (Südländer ), manoeuvring carefully in a space where the QM counsellors had early on said that racism was never tolerated (‘I would take action immediately’ in the case of racism, one of the workers had loudly and smilingly said early on). They also avoided labelling their own estate as problematic, or their fellow residents, by asserting that drugs and alcohol that made their neighbourhood ‘dangerous’ and ‘ugly’ came from elsewhere. Drugs were ‘imported’ through the nearby underground line. Troublemaking youngsters lived elsewhere, as in the story of the youth club. And yet as the example of the barbequing at the end of the conversation showed, the threat of the evening, the core of the ‘state of unrest’ and sense that personally felt insecurity was also ‘assault’, were the boys. These spent most of their free time, of which they had a lot for lack of school or job chances, in the green spaces between the buildings and, with Berlin winters being cold, in the hallways. Moreover, that fear was reduced to a fear of random violence of ‘assault’, especially

9 Feeling Safe, Defining Crime and Urban Youth …

169

in sexual terms. While a part of the conversation was about how women might hold their body in public space to appear self-confident and strong, not for a moment was it contested that (Muslim) young men in groups prey on vulnerable women. In short, then, the emotion management at the meeting reflected an institutional imperative of non-racist verbal expressions. In Berlin with a left coalition and a social sector strongly connected to politically leftoriented community NGOs, the larger institutional imperatives are imperatives of a tolerant, inclusive society—discursively. Berlin markets itself attracting tourists, cultural and creative economic investments with this image (see Lewek 2016; Lanz 2007). This project of Berlin as an inclusive place of tolerance sits uneasily with an increasing public debate on security and stricter state control. While a lot was said, there was a silence, especially of institutional agents, over concrete incidents—of which few were mentioned. The abstracted generalities through which the ‘problems’ were discussed, starting with the general category of ‘youth’, left the common sense shared among the participants remained unquestioned. The suggestion from the police, that whether or not an area was a criminal hotspot all depended on reporting and that ‘they could do more’ if the area had such a label again, conformed the residents’ sense of danger. One could read it as an administrative category change, not an actual change in situation. That these youth were a ground for fear was the truth from which the evening started and with which it ended.

Changing the Lens How, then, do these youth perceive their neighbourhood, crime and insecurity? The young male residents with whom we spent time and conducted interviews were part of a loose group of about 40–50 persons. They seldom all met but came together regularly in various constellations and knew each other at least superficially. They referred to themselves as ‘the boys’ (‘die Jungs’), a loose network of acquaintances, partly also as ‘brothers’, but not to group identities, as when youth groups define themselves as a ‘gang’. That was a past to which two now older men, one of them now a social work student, smilingly referred to as ‘really hard’ (richtig hart ). At a

170

ˇ T. Blokland and V. Serbedˇ zija

restaurant, a cook and his friend who ran the streets as youngsters recalled ‘tougher years but with more rules’. The lack of hierarchy or leadership was, to them, rather reason for concern. The boys often met behind the shops where the surrounding residential buildings formed a court with greenery, benches and graffiti-sprayed blind walls. The corner of the sloping landscape, das Loch (‘the hole’), was their meeting point to talk, drink, smoke and, for some, use marihuana. They took distance from ‘the junkies’, a group of mainly white, older men using hard drugs who regularly met nearby. Many boys reflected on their neighbourhood use (Blokland 2003). They had strong spatial knowledge, public familiarity (Blokland 2017) and local social ties, especially within the group: Most of the time I am only here in this area. (…) Because I grew up here and I know all the boys here, you only have them here, yes, only them one can trust and chill with, they have the same head [Kopf ] like me. (…) We are all the same, we react in the same way, we are just friends, so, we all get along well. (Leo)

In a conversation five boys discussed whether it was 80, 95 or 99% of their time spent at the Loch—showing how they felt the place kept them: P1: From this place there is no leaving. P4: You are trapped inside this place. So for example the person, that just came home… P2: Once you are here you don’t get out anymore. P1: But it’s nice here! (…) [Int.: How do you mean, that you don’t get out from here?] P1: So once you say Wellington, you chill here, you don’t bother going anywhere else. P3: Then you are locked up here for now. Because here’s everything, that you need. P2: You don’t see the world anymore then. (group interview 2)4

4 In

group interviews with more than three interview partners, we used the codes P1, P2, P3 etc. instead of pseudonyms. The abbreviation ‘Int.’ stands for interviewer.

9 Feeling Safe, Defining Crime and Urban Youth …

171

Chilling Time spent was time chilling, often not as leisure time, but as an enduring activity. Many boys left their houses to go outside, waiting for something to happen or not, listening to stories told of successes and failures and maybe imagining those of their own, with what we may call ‘rhythms of endurance’ (Simone 2019: 10) but without much improvisation as what is the next experiment. Simone describes how the poor and marginalised in cities compose lives through different experiments and connections, moving while finding the ‘right rhythms of circulation, circumvention and interaction’ (idem.) to generate livelihood. The boys we met talked about ‘just chilling’, planning only for a far-away ‘later’ when they may do something. In the absence of a bursting labour market of irregular or informal work as in the cities Simone describes, a steady influx of newcomers from European countries with university degrees taking low-paying service jobs for which minimal qualifications are needed, and a strictly regulated formal apprentice, Berlin seems particular tough for organising livelihood outside formal employment or welfare. Crime may offer some possibilities, but even employment opportunities in petty drug trade seem competitive: restrictive immigration policies produce a new reserve of cheap labour without legal rights. The experience of a lack of skills, of having no school degree or certified knowledge and of educational institutions unable to keep these men on predefined tracks, was shared among a number of the boys. So they spent time ‘chilling’—with nothing to do. As Bourdieu (2001: 35) notes, symbolic violence is ‘instituted through the adherence that the dominated cannot fail to grant to the dominant (and therefore to the domination)’. Invariably, the boys told anecdotes of teachers who do not believe in them, directly told them off, ignored and insulted them. But they generally framed school experiences in terms of their own dispositions as not being willing anymore, losing interest, not conforming, being ‘stupid’. They told individualised accounts of mean teachers, but in their discourses, the system did not fail them—they failed in the system. Classifications as having no skills or degrees were schemes applied to one’s own situation while naturalising those dominant schemes at the same time (see Bourdieu 2001: 35).

172

ˇ T. Blokland and V. Serbedˇ zija

Neighbourhood Safety In contrast to the residents at the QM meeting, these (young) residents felt safe in their neighbourhood, and safer than elsewhere in the city. This may be one reason for their sense of place as a site of home, but in a sticking way. They took care of each other, their families and friends, in general, and especially in case of trouble: Here everyone has everybody’s backs (…) If someone has problems, he can call anyone, any of us would help him, nobody would say ‘brother, I have no time’. (Emil)

Sami felt most comfortable in his area: When I go away from here somewhere far and then I am at the subway station here again, then I feel good (wohl) again, because I know this area here, I know what is going on. I know the people, I know my way around here, I live here. This is why one feels good here, even though one knows, that of course shit happens here, too. (Sami)

The boys described a public familiarity that made them feel safe. But when we asked them about safety, they also noted that ‘other, older people’ might have ‘delusions’, as Diego: My mother for example works here at the local [shop name], she cleans it in the evening and closes the shop afterwards (…) she says to herself like, when she sees the youth from here, so to say – and at the shop there is of course the danger, especially in the moment when you are closing, that someone tries to get in and steal something. (…) But she says: ‚if something would happen, the youngsters, they know who I am’. So to say, that she is my mother, and she is not afraid of the youngsters. Maybe there are some elderly people here, 60 years, 70 years old, but sorry, they really have paranoia and I don’t know what, that is of course age related, of course they are afraid. (Diego)

Diego argued that one didn’t have to be afraid; yet the theme had come up with his mother. Not whether youth may steal, but for whom that may

9 Feeling Safe, Defining Crime and Urban Youth …

173

be a risk was a topic of that conversation. Such conversations reveal that the boys were aware of the fear of elderly ‘Germans’. From their standpoint of common experiences of racism and stereotyping, these ‘delusions’ among the elderly residents who were not part of their networks could be understood but not justified. Indeed, as one boy in a group interview said: P3: Because of us they [other residents] feel unsafe. They think, we are their enemies, but we don’t do anything to them, we are just hanging out around here. (group interview 3)

While some boys had criminal records, mostly for crimes to access money (see below), they differentiated between crimes and their socialising at the Loch. They felt labelled as ‘the dirtiest’, ‘the enemies’ in the neighbourhood. They felt suspiciously observed through a disciplinary gaze of the police officers—the police officer whom we interviewed said to have known many of the families already for years, in some cases, having worked in the area for over 20 years, he had already known their fathers. A back and forth seemed to emerge between some of the group conducting crimes, and the police turning first to the group for every crime in the area. They also felt controlled from whom Sami called ‘vigilant neighbours’: It is strange, one assumes that we [the boys] as humans are all assholes, but they hardly know us, and it is not possible to talk with these people, because these people keep distance and just think directly I am a very bad person. (Sami)

Sami further explained that play-fighting (Spaßkämpfe) was just fun and never included outsiders. It thus did not create danger, and stories about such fights tended to get out of proportion—in the boys’ view: When it is cold, we are, to be honest, in some of the hallways. And yes, sometimes there is a lot of action going on. There the latest [stories] are always told and there is always great entertainment. (…) Boys like to fight among themselves, but it is just fun. There is really a lot of action going on, but it is all on a basis that is funny, so, if someone from the group had to be stupid, he gets slapped and so on. We find this funny, well it is funny,

174

ˇ T. Blokland and V. Serbedˇ zija

so, and it is also normal, but someone outside would think differently, that this is not ok. (Sami)

The boys talked about neighbours who felt annoyed by their presence in hallways or at the Loch, and shouted at them to go away or be quiet, or more: [Int.: Are their conflicts with other residents here?] Leo: Yes, yes, yes, they always throw stuff down, from the highest floors, but we don’t know which son of bitch does it. Once, a microwave was thrown down! (…) a microwave! (…) we were all sitting here [at the Loch], we were loud, drinking some alcohol. (Leo)

At the QM meeting, the young male residents constituted danger. The boys’ stories revealed conflicts over the appropriation of space between the boys and other residents. The boys retold the microwave story and other stories about ‘flying objects’ (eggs, potatoes) as part of a collective memory of neighbours’ rejection and trashing of them—but the residents who did so remained invisible. While they never reported such incidents to the police and such actions against them remained unsanctioned by the police, the QM or others. The police regularly checked the boys, sometimes just for being present. While officially, a concrete suspicion of a crime would be necessary to check personalities outside of a KBO, apparently the disappearance of the KBO status had not always affected police actions. As Sami emphasised, this gave them a feeling of being criminalised in front of family and neighbours, affecting their local status negatively: It’s a very disgusting feeling, because I live here, half of my family lives here, and all the neighbours that see us, when the police stops us and wouldn’t let us go (…), people look at us and think we are some felons, who stole or robbed something. (Sami)

In contrast to the careful formulations of the officers at the QM meeting, in public statements and in our interview with the police, the boys interviewed saw police actions as racialised. Leo related how he expressed his feelings in interactions with police:

9 Feeling Safe, Defining Crime and Urban Youth …

175

I always quarrel with the police, because they always accuse us for every shit that happens, they always come here [to the Loch], bust us, control us, (…) every time then I say to the cops ‘always against blackheads (Schwarzköpfe), always against Kanaken.5 (Leo)

Whereas the boys expressed a general distrust of the police, in a comparative perspective, it is worth noting how they spoke directly to police when controlled by the police ‘for nothing’ with comments like ‘why don’t you catch the big fishes’ or ‘catch the real drug dealers’. The boys expressed to us a sense of being stigmatised and racially profiled, but their stories also reflect enough trust that the cops would be playing more or less by the rules for them to express opinions directly in their interaction, a situation which could have lethal consequences in many other contexts. Radical Critical scholars may generally reject the police, but we think it is important to note that when teenage boys in most marginalised positions feel that they can talk back to police officers, there is something about law and order working in the current German state in a different way than in its history or in comparison to, for example, the United States (Goffman 2014). While certainly experiencing police harassment by repetitive controls, the boys did not talk about police violence. Still, they felt stereotyped and wrongfully accused, they felt they were held responsible as a group for incidents by individuals. They felt that, as stated in a group interview, ‘there are good and there are bad cops, if you are lucky, you get a good one’. In our expert interview with the police, the officer admitted that ‘there are very social colleagues and there are total jerks’, arguing that the police structure is like a ‘mirror of society’. However, where this bad apple perspective within the police ends up being acceptable (and only marginally problematised), the consequences for stigmatised youth groups like the boys may be severe, as their vulnerability and uncertainty increases. Moreover, experiences elsewhere in the city seem to be more insecure, more stigmatising and scarier for some boys. One boy told us how he was on his way to an internship in another part of town. As he was running late, he ran through the underground station. He was stopped by the police, who wanted to know why he ran and searched his bag. Had he been a 5 Kanake

is a derogatory term and mostly refers to people with Turkish or Middle Eastern migration background.

176

ˇ T. Blokland and V. Serbedˇ zija

white middle-aged woman running late to teach a sociology class, the chances of being stopped would have been small. Part of the construction of the home in the neighbourhood seemed directly linked to fear of trouble outside: not with peers, but with ‘society’ that did not want them, and with police and security guards. As such, the boys saw other residents and the police similarly engaging in denying them as worthwhile persons. They were not free to break away from that status due to structural constraints in the institutional settings in which they were required to ‘function’ in order to fit in ‘society’, nor constraint directly by clear, direct forms of abuse or violence (Bourdieu 2001: 38–40). They can thus be said to live precisely in a setting that symbolically violates them in everyday routines and practices. No one says they are ugly—and yet they feel themselves defined as the ‘dirtiest’ in the neighbourhood, and do not even consider an entitlement of placing or positioning in the city at large. The linkage that everyone else seemed to make between their presence and ‘crime’ of a rather randomly violent nature against a passer-by, or sexual assault was, however, not theirs.

Crime Definitions We asked in conversations variations of ‘what is crime for you?’ As a method, we did not ask boys to tell us about their own potential criminal practices—we talked to them as experts in a field in which crime occurs, and asked them to talk hypothetically with us about it, because we have no evidence that they may be doing crime, in order to protect them, and also because we were interested in the construction of safety, threat and crime from their positions, not in whether or not they did anything against the law. When we openly talked about crime and safety, the boys did not think of physical violence or specifically sexual assault. The thought that without reason, one would attack someone outside the own group had low relevance. While what started as provocation or a joke could get out of hand, this was not positively valued. This confirms our argument elsewhere, that there are always moral dimensions to violence (Blokland 2008a).

9 Feeling Safe, Defining Crime and Urban Youth …

177

For some, like Jerome, crime could be ‘anything, that is against the law (…) [or] anything that causes one to call the police’, close to the definitions of residents at the QM. Others, like Malik, found ‘smoking weed’ (which is ascribed to and perceived by the boys as everyday practice in the Loch) was not a real crime: Now taking drugs is not, I mean when you smoke weed, for me it is not big crime, even though the state sees it that way (silence). Smoking weed is, I don’t know, I don’t find it so criminal, meaning criminal. Because it is a drug that stuns you, that calms you down, and that gives some phantasy into your life. So for me it is rather, I have no idea, rather like this stealing, robberies und such activities on the street for example. (Malik)

Violence and crime were defined morally in the boys ‘understandings of acts against the law’. On the one hand, they talked in morally rejecting yet understanding ways about ‘doing shit’ (Scheiße bauen): breaking stuff in the youth club, joyriding, vandalism, letting things get out of hand. They blamed ‘puberty’ and ‘peer group dynamics’ sic. The older they were, the more likely boys were to call such behaviour ‘stupid’. This ‘stupid’ behaviour bothers other residents most (see above). In contrast, selling drugs, robbery and theft was not considered good, but a necessity for lack of money and the absence of viable legal ways to get money in a society where without money no status is to be achieved or maintained. While Berlin media pay a lot of attention to so-called ‘Arab clans’ and their initiation rites through stick-up robberies in shops and the police officer also referred to such practices in terms of acts to be conducted to move up in status, the boys we spoke with did not refer to such mechanisms. If, then more to peer group pressure than to initiation in a hierarchy: The less money a person has, the more likely he is to do something criminal, it is as simple as that. When someone has enough money, why would he do criminal stuff? Because doing criminal stuff means making money. (Jerome) Of course it happens that people, that the boys try and get money in illegal ways. Can be with drugs or with burglary or with theft. [Int.: And why do you think that happens?] Secondary I would say they prove themselves

178

ˇ T. Blokland and V. Serbedˇ zija

mutually (sich gegenseitig beweisen). But first I would say because of money, so that they do not have to depend on anyone and that they can show off [that they have money]. (Sami)

The boys conformed to understanding deviance as acts against the law. Motivations and moral coding of such acts, however, met with differentiated views including ideas of familiarity and nearness—a distant stranger may be tricked or robbed. Boys shared stories of tricking tourists by letting them pay for drugs to then disappear with the money, while also pointing to whom did not have to fear (as Diego’s mother). There was no denying of crimes taking place or of expert knowledge about how and why they were conducted. Critically seen was the homogeneous defining of all acts against the law as equally ‘criminal’ or the police generalising that whatever happened, they were first to be suspected.

Concluding Remarks ‘In any system of ranked groups, participants take it as given that members of the highest group have the right to define the way things really are’ (Becker 1967: 243). Symbolic violence, Bourdieu (2001: 1–2) writes, is ‘gentle violence, imperceptible and invisible even to its victims; and exerted for the most part through the purely symbolic channels of communication and cognition, recognition or even feeling’. At the QM meeting, several boys passed by, glanced through the window: they appeared not to assume a legitimate presence. Nor did anyone seem to think they should be asked in. They were discussed as topic ‘youth’, not seen as residents. While feeling rules rejected racist definitions of perpetuators, the talking around who precisely were ‘the youth’ and the abstracted talk fitted the institutional frame of the QM and other professionals. But it meanwhile also reproduced precisely that: youth took the shapes outside on the street of ‘Arab looking’, dark-haired, young male able bodies in gatherings, with imaginary powers of violence, out-of-control sexual desires and disrespectful attitudes. While a man could walk straight through the group, a woman apparently could not, and something needed to be done ‘before a woman lands in the bushes’.

9 Feeling Safe, Defining Crime and Urban Youth …

179

In the relations of ruling, the representation of the state in this standpoint was the protector against invisible danger. This conflicted with the state agents’ representations as reactive against actual lawbreaking. Yet the standpoint of established, white long-term residents voicing views at the meeting was congruent with the experiences of the boys in their interactions with other residents. They were well aware of their position as a ‘problem’—also with police, schools or job centres. The Othering produced on the ground was an Othering partly including broader cultural-racist concepts (see the remark about the barbequing of sheep). More specifically, the Othering worked on the basis of specific concepts of masculinity, youth and deviance or crime. This construction of young men with migration background as perpetuators of unsafety, as shown, was met with the boys’ complicity. They adhered to the hierarchy of credibility where they defined their behaviour as problematic—as spending time in the hallways and play-fighting or doing ‘stupid things’—and so gave more standing to the residents who threw things at them in annoyance. It never seemed to occur to them to see it as a threat to be reported. One must only think for a second to see what may follow had they thrown a microwave from a balcony instead of it being thrown at them. While they expressed grievance about generalisations by the police, they also accepted that the police did their job, and that crime was crime for the law, even though they had differentiated views. Scholars have shown for the USA how governing the marginalised by punishing was a worked-out state apparatus imposing control and containment on the poor (Wacquant 2009; Soss et al. 2011). The symbolic violence of the dominant towards these boys seemed more subtle and structured by dispositions of the youth and members of the dominant white Berlin circles, including all the left, inclusive, well-intended individuals (also Blokland 2012). The slowly grown and continuously growing cleavages in social, cultural and economic capital—accelerated by gentrification—provide the structure for the dispositions of both the residents at the QM and the young male residents on the street. As Bourdieu writes, the complicity of these dispositions ‘depends profoundly, for its perpetuation or transformation, on the perpetuation or transformation of the structures of which those dispositions are the product’ (2001: 42). Under Berlin’s current economic and social conditions, these dispositions and

180

ˇ T. Blokland and V. Serbedˇ zija

habitus of both groups of residents are more likely to be reproduced than changed. One may add that the QM meeting was an event with people who had nearly equal relational positions. There still was a lack of ‘creative interactions’ (Blokland 2008b: 44) among actors with unequal positions.

Epilogue As we write, new plans are announced to revitalise Wellington Square landscaping: new benches, new pavements, the architectural uniqueness and the axes to the central city will emerge. The plans’ sketch in the local paper by the landscaping architects that won a competition with their ideas shows a girl on a bench reading a book, another young woman looking at her phone. A small boy plays with a ball, a man with a hipster beard pushes a stroller. With some imagination, four unclear figures sketched in the back of the ‘impression’ could be boys. The group of 40–50 boys that we have got to know have not been pencilled in. Modern culture, Bauman writes (2000: 95), is a garden culture: ‘it defines itself as the design for an ideal life and a perfect arrangement of human conditions (…) In fact, it defines itself and nature, and the distinction between them, through its endemic distrust of spontaneity and its longing for a better, and necessarily artificial order. Apart from the overall plan, the artificial order of the garden needs new tools and materials. It also needs defence – against the unrelenting danger of what is, obviously, disorder. The order, first conceived as a design, determines what is a tool, what is a raw material, what is useless, what is irrelevant, what is harmful, what is a weed or a pest. It classifies all elements of the universe by its relation to itself. (…) From the point of view of the design all actions are instrumental, while all objects of action are either facilities or hindrances’. Objects of hindrance in gentrifying Wellington Square could be summarised with another word: youth. Acknowledgements We thank Julia Thöns from Bezirksamt FriedrichshainKreuzberg and all advisors for cooperation, Landeskommission Berlin gegen Gewalt for funding, Lara Danyel and Julia Nott for research assistance, and all experts in the field for their generous participation, especially Die Jungs. All names are pseudonyms. All research participants at the youth clubs and in interviews gave

9 Feeling Safe, Defining Crime and Urban Youth …

181

consent to participate; casual conversations in the streets, incidentally included youth who did not know, due to the nature of fieldwork in such a setting.

References Appelrouth, S., & Desfor Edles, L. (2016). Sociological Theory in the Contemporary Era. London: Sage. Bauman, Z. (2000). Modernity and the Holocaust. London: Sage. Becker, H. (1967). Whose Side Are We On? Social Problems, 14 (3), 239–247. Binken, S., & Blokland, T. (2012). Why Repressive Policies Towards Urban Youths Do Not Make Streets Safe. Sociological Review, 60 (2), 292–311. Blokland, T. (2003). Urban Bonds. Cambridge: Polity Press. Blokland, T. (2008a). Facing Violence: Everyday Risks in an American Housing Project. Sociology, 42(4), 601–617. Blokland, T. (2008b). You Got to Remember You Live in Public Housing. Housing, Theory and Society, 25 (1), 31–46. Blokland, T. (2012). Blaming Neither the Undeserving Poor Nor the Revanchist Middle Classes. Urban Geography, 33(4), 488–507. Blokland, T. (2017). Community as Urban Practice. Cambridge: Polity Press. Blokland, T., & Serbedzija, V. (2018). Gewohnt Ist Nicht Normal. Berlin: Logos. Body-Gendrot, S. (2000). The Social Control of Cities? London: Blackwell. Bourdieu, P. (2001). Masculine Domination. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Bourdieu, P., & Wacquant, L. (1992). An Invitation to Reflexive Sociology. Cambridge: Polity Press. Boutelier, H. (2002). De Veiligheidsutopie. Den Haag: Boom. Cohen, S. (1972). Folk Devils and Moral Panics. New York: Routledge. Dee, M. (2000). The Use of CCTV to Police Young People in Public Spaces. Paper at 27th International Conference on Making Cities Livable, De Montfort University. Elias, N. (2012). The Social Constraint Towards Self-Constraint. In C. Calhoun et al. (Eds.), Contemporary Sociological Theory (pp. 499–509). London: Blackwell. Elsinga, M., & Wassenberg, F. (1992). Prevention of Criminality in the Living Environment. Justitele Verkenningen, 18(2), 73–87. Garland, D. (1997). ‘Governmentality’ and the Problem of Crime: Foucault, Criminology, Sociology. Theoretical Criminology, 1(2), 173–214.

182

ˇ T. Blokland and V. Serbedˇ zija

Garland, D. (2001). The Culture of Control. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Gelder, K. (Ed.). (2005). The Subcultures Reader. London: Routledge. Goffman, A. (2014). On the Run. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Hall, S., & Jefferson, T. (Eds.). (1998). Resistance Through Rituals. London: Routledge. Hall, S., et al. (1978). Policing the Crisis. London: Macmillan. Hochschild, A. (1983). The Managed Heart. Berkeley: California University Press. Hochschild, A. (2003). The Commercialization of Intimate Life. Berkeley: California University Press. Hodkinson, P., & Deicke, W. (Eds.). (2007). Youth Cultures. London: Routledge. Koskela, H. (2000). The Gaze Without Eyes: Video-Surveillance and the Changing Nature of Urban Space. Progress in Human Geography, 24 (2), 243–265. Lanz, S. (2007). Berlin aufgemischt: abendländisch – multikulturell – kosmopolitisch? Bielefeld: Transcript. Lanz, S. (2009). Powered by Quartiersmanagement. In P. Drilling & O. Schnur (Eds.), Governance der Quartiersentwicklung (pp. 219–225). Wiesbaden: VS. Lewek, M. (2016). Spaces of Fear and Their Exclusionary Consequences. In T. Blokland, et al. (Eds.), Creating the Unequal City (pp. 31–52). Farnham: Ashgate. Lewis, D., & Maxfield, M. (1980). Fear in the Neighborhoods. Journal of Research in Crime and Delinquency, 17 (2), 160–189. Marcuse, H. (1941). Some Implications of Modern Technology. Studies in Philosophy and Social Science, 9, 414–439. Merry, S. (1981). Defensible Space Undefended. Urban Affairs Quarterly, 16 (4), 397–422. Merry, S. (2001). Spatial Governmentality and the New Urban Social Order. American Anthropologist, 103(1), 16–29. Minnery, J., & Lim, B. (2005). Measuring Crime Prevention Through Environmental Design. Journal of Architectural and Planning Research, 22, 330–341. Newman, O. (1973). Defensible Space. New York: First Collier. QM. (2017). Integriertes Handlungs-und Entwicklungskonzept 2017–2019 mit Jahresbilanz seit 2015. Träger: Kunstwelt e.V. Berlin. Raco, M. (2003). Remaking Place and Securitising Space. Urban Studies, 40 (9), 1869–1887. Sampson, R., & Raudenbush, S. (2004). Seeing Disorder. Social Psychology Quarterly, 67 (4), 319–342. Sampson, R., et al. (1997). Neighborhoods and Violent Crime. Science, 277 (15), 918–924. Simone, A. (2019). Improvised Lives. Cambridge: Polity Press.

9 Feeling Safe, Defining Crime and Urban Youth …

183

Smith, D. (1987). The Everyday World as Problematic. Boston: Northeastern University Press. Somers, B. (2018). Zusammen Leben. Munich: Beck. Soss, J., et al. (2011). Disciplining the Poor. Chicago: Chicago University Press. St. Jean, P. (2007). Pockets of Crime. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Wacquant, L. (1987). Symbolic Violence and the Making of the French Agriculturalist. Journal of Sociology, 23(1), 65–88. Wacquant, L. (2009). Punishing the Poor. Durham: Duke University Press. Willis, P. (1977). Learning to Labor. New York: Columbia University Press. Wilson, J., & Kelling, G. (1982). Broken Windows. Atlantic Monthly, 249 (3), 29–38.

10 Trust Thy Neighbour? Interpersonal Trust in Twelve Ethnically Diverse European Neighbourhoods Rui F. Carvalho

Introduction European countries have been receiving growing inflows of international migrants in the last years. And, even though immigration has impacted these countries generally, it is in their urban areas that the effects of immigration-driven diversity/ies have been felt the most strongly (Vertovec 2019). The importance of international migration for the economies of cities has long been recognized (Sassen 2001; Zukin 1995). Similarly, diversity, and particularly ethnic diversity, have also been known to hold great potential for fostering social and economic development in urban areas. For example, diversity has been associated with a city’s ability to attract firms, investment, capital and talented workers, and is believed to enhance the overall competitiveness of cities (Florida 2005). However, diversity can also pose important challenges for social and community cohesion (Cantle 2018; Kalra and Kapoor 2009; Putnam 2007). In this R. F. Carvalho (B) Brown University, Providence, RI, USA e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2020 M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al. (eds.), Inequality and Uncertainty, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1_10

185

186

R. F. Carvalho

line, and as shown by Van Der Meer and Tolsma (2014), in the last two decades there has been rising scholarly interest in examining the effects of ethnic diversity on social capital, community cohesion, the quality of urban livelihoods, and the sociability of neighbourhoods, mainly of those neighbourhoods most impacted by the settlement of international migrants. Most of the works reviewed by Van Der Meer and Tolsma were designed as empirical tests of Robert Putnam’s (2007) so-called “constriction thesis”. Looking at the United States, Putnam found that, in the shortrun, ethnic diversity has a negative effect on community cohesion, reducing social capital, and promoting generalized social anomie. The empirical assessments of Putnam’s thesis have produced mixed results (Van Der Meer and Tolsma 2014), leaving much room for further advancements in the task of uncovering the links between ethnic diversity and social cohesion. This chapter contributes to this scholarship by looking at the individual elements associated with what, following the seminal work of Putnam (2007), has been acknowledged as a crucial dimension of neighbourhood social capital and cohesion: trust in neighbours (Dinesen and Sønderskov 2015, 2018). Specifically, I look here at what individual characteristics and neighbourhood experiences differentiate the residents of twelve multiethnic neighbourhoods, located in four European cities, in terms of their levels of interpersonal trust in neighbours. This work adds to the existing literature, among other aspects, by considering different dimensions of trust as outcome variables (contrarily to measuring trust as a composite index, as many prior works have done), and by looking at both the immigrant and native residents of those twelve multi-ethnic neighbourhoods. The findings attained show the interest of these conceptual and methodological decisions. Particularly, the respondent’s migration background (i.e. being an immigrant or a native) arose consistently as the most important individual predictor of trust in neighbours. And the two dimensions of trust considered were not predicted by the same independent variables. Overall, these (and other) results do not completely follow along Putnam’s (2007) constriction thesis. Instead, they show a more nuanced picture of the association between ethnic diversity and trust. I present these results after briefly reviewing the relevant literature on ethnic diversity, social capital and interpersonal trust, and introducing the data and methods

10 Trust Thy Neighbour? Interpersonal Trust …

187

used. I finalize with a discussion of those results and some remarks on the contributions and limitations of this work.

Ethnic Diversity, Social Capital, and Interpersonal Trust The concept of social capital has been central to the sociological literature (and beyond) for several decades now. It has been used in studies on topics as varied as community organization (Collins et al. 2017), resilience to disasters (Wickes et al. 2015), and self-rated health (Iwase et al. 2012), among several others. Despite its common usage, many authors have argued that the concept of social capital remains imprecise and tainted by ambivalence, a normative bias towards positivity, and value-laden interpretations (Cheong et al. 2007; Portes 2014; Portes and Vickstrom 2011). One of the latest and most important (and criticized) conceptual contributions to the literature on social capital has been developed by Robert Putnam (2007). Putnam looks at social capital not just as an individual feature but also as a community resource. For Putnam, social capital includes a bundle of elements inherent to a community, such as neighbouring relations and civic participation in that community. In his view, social capital is the sum of individual exchanges, obligations, and shared identities that exist within a community. It includes elements of social entities and organizations (such as networks, norms, and trust) that expedite action and cooperation and bring mutual benefits for the individuals of a community. As per this definition, social capital is thus connected not only with effective social networks but also with cognitive elements such as community perceptions and, particularly, with trust in a community’s organizations and individuals (i.e. one’s neighbours). Putnam’s (2007) work has also been concerned with the links between ethnic diversity and social capital. Using data from multiple communities in the United States, Putnam found that in the short-run ethnic diversity tends to decrease social capital and community cohesion and foster generalized social anomie. Putnam argues that ethnic diversity has a negative impact on both behavioural (social interactions) and cognitive dimensions of social cohesion (such as community attachment or trust

188

R. F. Carvalho

in neighbours). These results, as well as Putnam’s larger scholarship on social capital, have suffered much criticism, on conceptual and methodological grounds (Cheong et al. 2007; Portes 2014; Portes and Vickstrom 2011). Notwithstanding these critiques, it is undeniable that Putnam’s (2007) work has been impactful. Particularly, it has generated a surge in empirical studies testing the validity of its findings, mainly whether they would stand firm when applied to contexts outside of the United States. As posited by Van Der Meer and Tolsma (2014), many of these empirical works have focused on researching the effects of ethnic diversity on one particular dimension of social cohesion: trust, both in society overall (generalized trust), and in one’s neighbours and acquaintances (interpersonal trust). This is not unexpected given that Putnam (2007) himself uses trust as his main measure of social capital and community cohesion. For the purposes of this work, I focus specifically on interpersonal trust among neighbours living in ethnically diverse neighbourhoods. Overall, these empirical studies have produced ambivalent results. Van Der Meer and Tolsma (2014) argue this stems from an inconsistent use of key concepts and definitions, such as social capital and trust, as well as a lack of theoretical refinement, displayed in/by many of these empirical works. Nevertheless, these authors still find some important regularities across those studies. First, contrarily to Putnam’s (2007) predictions, ethnic diversity is not always negatively associated with inter-ethnic conflict and social anomie. In this regard, it seems that the United States are an exceptional case since it is there that the validation of Putnam’s theory appears to be the most consistent. This is interpreted by Van der Meer and Tolsma (2014) as stemming from the historical legacies of slavery and ethno-racial segregation characteristic of that country. Studies conducted in other areas, such as Australia (Wickes et al. 2014, 2015), Canada (Stolle et al. 2008), continental Europe (Gijsberts et al. 2012; Schaeffer 2014), and the United Kingdom (Laurence 2011, 2014, 2017; Laurence and Bentley 2016; Letki 2008; Sturgis et al. 2014) have drawn more nuanced pictures. In some cases, ethnic diversity has been shown to work alongside other community features, such as economic disadvantage or other forms of contextual diversity, to decrease trust among neighbours (Laurence 2011, 2017). In others, the effect of ethnic diversity on social

10 Trust Thy Neighbour? Interpersonal Trust …

189

cohesion seems to be different across individuals depending on sociodemographic features like age or migration background (Sturgis et al. 2014; Wickes et al. 2014). In others still, the establishment of social ties at the neighbourhood level has a moderating or mediating effect on the association between diversity and trust in neighbours (Laurence 2014; Schaeffer 2014; Stolle et al. 2008). Second, and despite the existence of several important studies conducted at the national level, the effects of ethnic diversity on trust and social cohesion appear to be felt the most significantly at the neighbourhood, or micro-ecological, level (Dinesen and Sønderskov 2015, 2018). This provides evidence for the importance of focusing on neighbourhoods in studies of ethnic diversity and social cohesion, something pursued in this work. And finally, a third commonality refers to the importance of community social interactions in shaping the relationship between ethnic diversity and trust. As highlighted in previous studies (Laurence 2011, 2014; Schaeffer 2014; Stolle et al. 2008), engaging in social interactions with neighbours can moderate or mediate the negative impact of ethnic diversity on people’s trust in their neighbours; and this effect can be particularly strong in ethnically diverse neighbourhoods. This chapter intends to contribute to this literature. Using data from a common questionnaire applied to the residents of twelve ethnically diverse neighbourhoods, located in four European cities, I ask: what individual elements are associated with different levels of trust in neighbours? The neighbourhood is thus given a central role in this study. But so are cross-national commonalities, given that the neighbourhoods under analysis here are located in four different European countries. Such cross-national comparisons at the local level have seldom been pursued in previous studies (for a notable exception, see: Stolle et al. 2008). Furthermore, all the neighbourhoods included here are ethnically diverse, i.e. display higher than average—for their respective cities and countries—numbers of immigrants. In other words, these are all neighbourhoods where people are exposed to, and as such more likely to directly contact with, ethnically diverse people. Moreover, I look comparatively at the immigrant and native residents of these neighbourhoods. This is something rarely pursued in studies of diversity and social capital, albeit having produced relevant findings in

190

R. F. Carvalho

other instances (Wickes et al. 2014). Furthermore, I consider two different dimensions of trust in neighbours (which I term reliability and helpfulness) as outcome variables. This differentiation between dimensions of trust has not been common in previous works (but see Gijsberts et al. 2012, for example), which have tended to use composite indices to measure trust. Additionally, I also included in my models variables measuring personal values and attitudes, as well as measures of neighbourly contact, trying to uncover whether one’s general attitudes and neighbourhood experiences are associated with their trust in neighbours. I provide details on all these measures, as well as on the methods of data collection and analysis used, in the next section.

Data and Methods The data used here comes from a common questionnaire applied to the residents of twelve neighbourhoods, located in four European cities (Bilbao, Spain; Lisbon, Portugal; Thessaloniki, Greece; and Vienna, Austria), with three neighbourhoods per city. These surveys were conducted in the ambit of the comparative, cross-national research project GEITONIES.1 The neighbourhoods included differ in a number of regards (for example, their metropolitan location, predominant housing type, period of construction, or patterns of urban change). Nonetheless, they are comparable in terms of other aspects, most notably their areal and population sizes, and in the fact that they all have a higher than average frequency of immigrant residents, as compared to the cities and countries where they are located in. These two criteria were used to select and delimit the neighbourhoods in all the cities included in the project. In other words, the neighbourhoods are all: (a) comparable in terms of key features, and (b) ethnically diverse (in relation to their cities and countries). 1 Acronym

for “Generating Interethnic Tolerance and Neighborhood Integration in European Urban Spaces”. More information on the project, including its conceptual framework; reports; methods of data selection, collection and analysis; main findings; as well as a list of associated publication outputs is available at: https://cordis.europa.eu/project/rcn/88907/factsheet/en, accessed 26 May 2019. I am thankful to the project’s research and coordinating teams for allowing me access to the data.

10 Trust Thy Neighbour? Interpersonal Trust …

191

In each neighbourhood, the questionnaire was applied to the same number (100) of immigrants and natives, totalling 200 respondents per neighbourhood (600 per city), for a total sample size of 2400 individuals (1200 of each group). Respondents were classified as “immigrant” if they were born abroad, and as “native” if they were not. Only individuals with at least 25 years of age and living in the neighbourhood for at least one full year at the time of contact were eligible for inclusion. Immigrant and native respondents were randomly selected through a household-based sampling design. Within each selected household, the final respondent was chosen using the “last birthday rule”, i.e. in each household the respondent selected was the one having had their birthday last. This produced a final sample that is both balanced in several sociodemographic characteristics (e.g. sex or educational level) and representative of the immigrants and natives living in the twelve neighbourhoods.The survey included a number of questions tapping on elements as diverse as sociodemographic and household characteristics, present and past social networks, general values and attitudes, and perceptions of the neighbourhood and neighbouring relations. In this work, I use data from this survey to construct a series of neighbourhood fixed effects regression models predicting levels of trust among neighbours. The dependent and independent variables used in these models are explained next. Dependent variables. Contrarily to most studies looking at the determinants of trust, which use aggregate indices to measure it, this study considers two dimensions of trust separately. The first dimension is reliability, which was based on whether respondents thought “that their neighbours are likely to try to take advantage of them”. The second is helpfulness, measured through the answer to a question about whether respondents thought “that their neighbours are helpful”. Originally formulated as a 5item Likert scale ranging from “strongly agree” to “strongly disagree”, these two variables were recoded for this analysis and added to the regression models as categorical (yes, no) variables. Independent variables. There are three types of individual level independent variables in the models. The first are sociodemographic variables. These include: migration background (immigrant, native), sex (female, male), age (years), highest level of education completed (first stage of basic

192

R. F. Carvalho

or below, lower and second stage of secondary, upper and post-secondary, tertiary), and socioeconomic status (International Socio-Economic Index, ISEI). The second group of variables measures individual general values and attitudes. The two attitudinal variables included are religious affiliation (yes, no) and anti-immigration opinions (yes, no). The third group of measures pertains to personal neighbourhood experiences. It encompasses: length of residence in the neighbourhood (years); housing stability in the neighbourhood (average years of housing spells in the neighbourhood); perceptions of the neighbourhood and neighbouring relations (scale of 0–12, with one point added for a positive answer in each of a total of twelve questions about the neighbourhood); and measures of contact in the neighbourhood, with two variables looking at intimate ties (having close friendships in the neighbourhood, and having close inter-ethnic friendships in the neighbourhood) and two variables for casual interactions (number of neighbours with whom respondents recently exchanged small talk, and the same for inter-ethnic small talk). Inter-ethnic contacts are defined here as interactions between natives and immigrants. To control for estimation errors due to the size of the respondents’ social networks, social network size variables are added to the models as well. Finally, I include neighbourhood fixed effects too, by adding neighbourhood dummy variables to all the models computed. This allows controlling for differences inputted by neighbourhood contexts. And it also means that, albeit not directly generalizable to other areas, the results obtained are consistent and robust across the twelve neighbourhoods analysed. Table 10.1 presents descriptive statistics for the variables used. It introduces relative frequencies (percentages) for the categorical variables included in the analysis, and means and standard deviations for the continuous ones. The table shows that the final sample (N = 1968) has a balanced distribution in terms of sociodemographic variables such as sex and migration background. The frequencies of these, as well as other, variables in the final sample do not diverge substantially from the original

193

10 Trust Thy Neighbour? Interpersonal Trust …

Table 10.1 models

Descriptive statistics for the variables used in the logistic regression

Variables Trust in neighbours Reliability (neighbours are reliable) Helpfulness (neighbours are helpful) Individual sociodemographic variables Migration background Immigrant Native Sex Female Male Age (years) Level of education First stage of basic or below Lower and second stage of secondary Upper and post-secondary Tertiary Socioeconomic status (ISEI) Individual attitudinal variables Religious affiliation (yes) Anti-immigration attitudes (yes) Individual neighbourhood experiences Length of residence in the neighbourhood (years) Average length of housing spells in the neighbourhood (years) Neighbourhood perceptions (scale of 0–12) Size of casual contacts in the neighbourhood (number) Casual inter-ethnic contacts in the neighbourhood (yes) Friendships in the neighbourhood (yes) Inter-ethnic friendships in the neighbourhood (yes) Size of friendship network (scale of 0–8) N

%

Mean

SD

81.50 52.59

– –

– –

50.56 49.44

– –

– –

48.68 51.32 –

– – 45.80

– – 15.06

18.80 14.68 40.09 26.42 –

– – – – 39.84

– – – – 16.58

71.75 40.24

– –

– –

– –

17.45 14.17

17.96 14.82

– –

5.88 16.18

3.24 26.23

66.26

–

–

62.09 10.72 –

– – 2.86 1968

– – 1.58

Source Fieldwork conducted in the ambit of the research project GEITONIES

sample.2 This implies that there are no marked patterns of selectivity in what regards invalid or missing values (for example, due to non-responses), 2There are occasional references to additional results (not shown in the tables) throughout the text. Those results have not been shown due to space limitations. In this, as in all other such situations, those results are available from the author upon request.

194

R. F. Carvalho

i.e. cases not included in the final regression models. Approximately half of the 432 cases dropped from the original (full) sample are respondents who never had a formal salaried occupation while living in the neighbourhood. These cases were dropped because the inclusion of the variable measuring socioeconomic status was based on the last reported ISEI, which was constructed from occupational data for the respondents’ last active employment experience since moving to the neighbourhood.

Results A first relevant result is provided in Table 10.1. It refers to the high levels of trust in neighbours reported. More than half of those inquired think that their neighbours are helpful, and over 80% think that they are reliable. Such positive values are interesting, especially since they were obtained from respondents living in neighbourhoods with above average levels of ethnic diversity. Furthermore, they are overall consistent across neighbourhoods, and even across countries. By themselves, these results do not follow along Putnam’s (2007) thesis that ethnic diversity hampers trust and leads people to overall pull away from their neighbours. Additionally, using data from the surveys, I constructed several logistic regression models predicting trust in neighbours. All models were constructed at the individual level but control for neighbourhood characteristics. Similar models with country (rather than neighbourhood) fixed effects were also run; their results did not differ substantially from the ones presented here. The models predict two types of interpersonal trust: whether respondents believe that their neighbours are reliable (Models 1A-C; Table 10.2), and whether they think they are helpful (Models 2A-C; Table 10.3). In both cases, three models were constructed: • Models 1A and 2A, i.e. the baseline models, which include all sociodemographic and attitudinal variables; • Models 1B and 2B, which include all previous variables and in addition all non-relational neighbourhood predictors, as well as the two variables for casual ties with neighbours; and

0.387*** 0.972 1.000

1.357 1.662** 1.501† 1.024 1.000

0.996 0.378*** 0.978 1.000

1.318 1.715** 1.454† 1.017 1.000

1.079 0.381***

(continued)

1.024

1.317 1.636* 1.476† 1.023 1.000

1.202 1.206 1.000

1.195 1.024 1.000

1.186 1.013 1.000

0.439***

Model 1C OR

0.490***

Model 1B OR

0.442***

Model 1A OR

Reliability

Odds ratios from logistic regression models predicting trust in neighbours I: Reliability

Individual sociodemographic variables Migration background (native = ref. category) Immigrant Gender (male = ref. category) Female Age (years) Age squared Level of education (first basic or less = ref. category) Lower and second stage of secondary Upper and post-secondary Tertiary Socioeconomic status (ISEI) Socioeconomic status squared Individual attitudinal variables Religious affiliation (no = ref. category) Yes Anti-immigration attitudes (no = ref. category) Yes Individual neighbourhood experiences Length of residence in the neighbourhood (years) Length of residence in the neighbourhood squared

Table 10.2

10 Trust Thy Neighbour? Interpersonal Trust …

195

(continued)

< 0.1; *p < 0.05; **p < 0.01; ***p < 0.001 Source Fieldwork conducted in the ambit of the project GEITONIES

†p

Average length of housing in the neighbourhood (years) Neighbourhood perceptions (scale of 0–12) Casual inter-ethnic contacts (no = ref. category) Yes Size of casual contacts in the neighbourhood (number) Friendships in the neighbourhood (no = ref. category) Yes Interethnic friendships (no = ref. category) Yes Social network size controls Neighbourhood fixed effects Constant −Log likelihood AIC BIC Chi-square df N Likelihood ratio tests (model 1 vs. model 2 vs. model 3)

Table 10.2

chi-square < 0.001

No Yes 3.602 814.986 1,675.973 1,804.423 < .0001 23

Model 1A OR

Reliability

Yes Yes 1.746 781.730 1,616.462 1,778.421 < .0001 29 1968

0.729* 1.000

1.034** 1.178***

Model 1B OR

1.365 Yes Yes 1.193 778.689 1,617.377 1,784.421 < .0001 30

1.188

1.034** 1.165***

Model 1C OR

196 R. F. Carvalho

1.200 0.994 1.000

0.898 1.063 1.161 1.016 1.000

1.472** 1.204 0.988 1.000

0.923 1.126 1.113 1.001 1.000

1.611*** 0.941

(continued)

1.465**

0.894 1.072 1.160 1.014 1.000

1.175 0.974 1.000

1.178 0.976 1.000

1.101 1.023 1.000

0.672**

Model 2C OR

0.646**

Model 2B OR

0.960

Model 2A OR

Helpfulness

Odds ratios from logistic regression models predicting trust in neighbours II: Helpfulness

Individual sociodemographic variables Migration background (native = ref. category) Immigrant Gender (male = ref. category) Female Age (years) Age squared Level of education (first basic or less = ref. category) Lower and second stage of secondary Upper and post-secondary Tertiary Socioeconomic status (ISEI) Socioeconomic status squared Individual attitudinal variables Religious affiliation (no = ref. category) Yes Anti-immigration attitudes (no = ref. category) Yes Individual neighbourhood experiences Length of residence in the neighbourhood (years) Length of residence in the neighbourhood squared

Table 10.3

10 Trust Thy Neighbour? Interpersonal Trust …

197

(continued)

< 0.1; *p < 0.05; **p < 0.01; ***p < 0.001 Source Fieldwork conducted in the ambit of the project GEITONIES

†p

Average length of housing in the neighbourhood (years) Neighbourhood perceptions (scale of 0-12) Casual inter-ethnic contacts (no = ref. category) Yes Size of casual contacts in the neighbourhood (number) Friendships in the neighbourhood (no = ref. category) Yes Interethnic friendships (no = ref. category) Yes Social network size controls Neighbourhood fixed effects Constant −Log likelihood AIC BIC Chi-square df N Likelihood ratio tests (model 1 vs. model 2 vs. model 3)

Table 10.3

chi-square < 0.001

No Yes 0.277† 1,301.753 2,649.507 2,777.956 < .0001 23

Model 2A OR

Helpfulness

Yes Yes 0.085** 991.071 2,040.142 2,202.100 < .0001 29 1968

1.175 1.000

0.989 1.623***

Model 2B OR

1.041 Yes Yes 0.114** 987.971 2,035.944 2,203.487 < .0001 30

0.700**

0.989 1.643***

Model 2C OR

198 R. F. Carvalho

10 Trust Thy Neighbour? Interpersonal Trust …

199

• Models 1C and 2C, which are equivalent to the last ones, except for the replacement of the variables on casual interactions with predictors of stronger (friendship) contact. Table 10.2 presents the odds ratios from the regression models predicting the first indicator of trust in neighbours: reliability. As shown in the table, the respondents’ migration background (i.e. whether they are an immigrant or a native) is influential for their opinions regarding the reliability of neighbours. The coefficients obtained show that immigrants are overall less trusting of their neighbours than natives. Most other sociodemographic variables do not deliver significant results. An exception is educational level: generally, having completed a higher level of education is associated with more positive attitudes regarding the reliability of neighbours. For the variables on personal values, we see an association between professing antiimmigrant opinions and not believing that one’s neighbours are reliable. Interestingly, the respondents’ length of residence in the neighbourhood is not strongly related to their level of trust in their neighbours. Conversely, more housing mobility within the neighbourhood and displaying positive attitudes about the neighbourhood both seem to be related to thinking that neighbours are reliable. Finally, having had casual inter-ethnic contacts in the neighbourhood is related to having worse opinions about how reliable neighbours are. Contrariwise, a pattern whereby more intimate friendships with neighbours relate to more positive opinions about their reliability is identifiable; yet, and even though substantively relevant, this relation is not statistically significant. Table 10.3 presents the results of the equivalent regression models for the second measure of interpersonal trust in neighbours: helpfulness. The respondent’s migration background is once again a significant predictor of opinions regarding helpfulness among neighbours. As was the case for reliability, immigrants are generally less trusting than natives in the helpfulness of their neighbours. No other sociodemographic variables reached statistical significance. On the other hand, religion emerges as a key predictor of opinions about the helpfulness of neighbours. In this ambit, those claiming a religious affiliation (regardless of what that affiliation is), are more likely to trust that their neighbours are helpful. Contrarily to the results found for reliability, attitudes towards immigration are not

200

R. F. Carvalho

a significant predictor of opinions about the helpfulness of neighbours. Conversely, neighbourhood perceptions are positively associated with the respondents’ evaluations of their neighbours’ helpfulness. In what refers to the relation between contacts in the neighbourhood and attitudes about helpfulness, the situation found for reliability is somewhat reversed. This time around, having strong friendships in the neighbourhood is associated with worse views about how helpful neighbours are. Yet, and although not statistically significant, more inter-ethnic friendships and more casual general contacts in the neighbourhood both seem to be related to thinking that one’s neighbours are helpful.

Discussion and Conclusions The previous results present several interesting findings related to trust among neighbours in twelve ethnically diverse neighbourhoods. A first aspect to retain from the results is that, across the ethnically diverse neighbourhoods analysed, people generally trust their neighbours. The majority of those inquired trust that their neighbours are both reliable and helpful. Drawing on a roster of twelve ethnically diverse neighbourhoods—measured as neighbourhoods with higher than average numbers of immigrants—in four European countries, this result alone awards reservations on the applicability of Putnam’s (2007) “constriction thesis”, at least in these neighbourhoods. There are important differences in the levels of trust shown by the residents of these neighbourhoods, induced by their sociodemographic features and their personal values. Immigrants are consistently less trusting of their neighbours than natives. The vulnerabilities attached to their condition as immigrants, the fact that they are possibly discriminated against often, and used to relying mainly on themselves and their families due to competition for jobs and entrepreneurial opportunities with other immigrants, may lead them to be more suspicious of their neighbours, natives and immigrants alike. These differences of opinion between immigrants and natives provide substance for a call to compare these two groups in studies of (neighbourhood) social capital and trust.

10 Trust Thy Neighbour? Interpersonal Trust …

201

The links between personal values and trust in neighbours also provided important results. Interestingly, claiming a religious affiliation was positively related to thinking that your neighbours are helpful; yet, it was not significantly related to opinions on the reliability of neighbours. There are many possible explanations for this difference. A plausible one is that religious people are more likely to frequent their neighbourhoods’ religious organizations and through them meet more neighbours holding similar beliefs regarding the importance of helping others. This may generally positively bias their views on how helpful their neighbours are. Additionally, people frequenting religious groups in their neighbourhoods are also more likely to have at some point benefitted from assistance from the religious communities (and their respective constituents) they belong to; this may lead them to assess their (co-religious) neighbours more positively. Finally, and still on the relation between values and trust, the results obtained also signal that the mechanisms behind anti-immigration opinions may share commonalities with those leading people to not believe that their neighbours are reliable, at least in these twelve neighbourhoods. Contrarily to previous works (Laurence 2011; Stolle et al. 2008), the results obtained here do not allow discerning a consistent pattern for the relationship between direct contact with neighbours and levels of interpersonal trust. The only constant finding in this regard is the existence of a mismatch between the respondents’ trust in neighbours and their actual contact with them. At best, this is reminiscent of the discrepancy between the attitudes towards diversity and the actual inter-ethnic contact practiced by incoming residents to the mixed community studied by Blokland and Van Eijk (2010). Contrarily, and not unexpectedly, there is a consistent positive association between the respondents’ neighbourhood perceptions and their trust in neighbours; in fact, it is probable that these two elements mutually reinforce each other. In sum, using survey data referring to twelve ethnically diverse neighbourhoods located in four European cities, this study set out to examine what individual elements, controlling for neighbourhood characteristics, are associated with trust in neighbours. It looked at two dimensions of trust, for which questionnaire data was available: reliability and helpfulness. The focus on only a cross-section of twelve neighbourhoods

202

R. F. Carvalho

determines some limitations, for example, the inability to use more complex statistical methods (e.g. random effects multilevel models), or the impossibility to generalize the results beyond the neighbourhoods analysed. Nonetheless, the emphasis on ethnically diverse areas, where people are exposed to, and more prone to contact with, diversity; the crossnational nature of the data; and the use of neighbourhood fixed effects (which control for neighbourhood-specific differences) still allowed for the production of sound results. Among other qualities, such results show the benefits of using migration background and religious affiliation as explanatory variables in studies predicting trust in neighbours, as well as of measuring different dimensions of trust separately, since these may be explained by differing predicting factors and social mechanisms. Finally, and overall, these findings also shed doubt on the applicability of Putnam’s (2007) “constriction thesis” to (these) European ethnically diverse neighbourhoods. Acknowledgements The author would like to thank the editors of this book as well as Ladin Bayurgil, Victor Blanco, and Fronika de Wit for their valuable and critical comments on an earlier draft of this chapter. Funding The GEITONIES project was financed under the Seventh Framework Programme of the European Community for Research, Grant Agreement number 216184.

References Blokland, T., & Van Eijk, G. (2010). Do People Who Like Diversity Practice Diversity in Neighbourhood Life? Neighbourhood Use and the Social Networks of ‘Diversity-Seekers’ in a Mixed Neighbourhood in the Netherlands. Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies, 36 (2), 313–332. Cantle, T. (2018). Community Cohesion: A New Framework for Race and Diversity. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Cheong, P., Edwards, R., Goulbourne, H., & Solomos, J. (2007). Immigration, Social Cohesion and Social Capital: A Critical Review. Critical Social Policy, 27 (1), 24–49.

10 Trust Thy Neighbour? Interpersonal Trust …

203

Collins, C., Neal, Z., & Neal, J. (2017). Transforming Social Cohesion into Informal Social Control: Deconstructing Collective Efficacy and the Moderating Role of Neighborhood Racial Homogeneity. Journal of Urban Affairs, 39 (3), 307–322. Dinesen, P., & Sønderskov, K. (2015). Ethnic Diversity and SocialTrust: Evidence from the Micro-Context. American Journal of Sociology, 80 (3), 550–573. Dinesen, P., & Sønderskov, K. (2018). Ethnic Diversity and Social Trust: A Critical Review of the Literature and Suggestions for a Research Agenda. In E. Uslaner (Ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Social and Political Trust (pp. 175–204). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Florida, R. (2005). Cities and the Creative Class. New York: Routledge. Gijsberts, M., Van Der Meer, T., & Dagevos, J. (2012). ‘Hunkering Down’ in Multi-Ethnic Neighbourhoods? The Effects of Ethnic Diversity on Dimensions of Social Cohesion. European Sociological Review, 28(4), 527–537. Iwase, T., Suzuki, E., Fujiwara, T., Takao, S., Doi, H., & Kawachi, I. (2012). Do Bonding and Bridging Social Capital Have Differential Effects on Self-Rated Health? A Community-Based Study in Japan. Journal of Epidemiology and Community Health, 66 (6), 557–562. Kalra, V., & Kapoor, N. (2009). Interrogating Segregation, Integration and the Community Cohesion Agenda. Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies, 35 (9), 1397–1415. Laurence, J. (2011). The Effect of Ethnic Diversity and Community Disadvantage on Social Cohesion: A Multi-Level Analysis of Social Capital and Interethnic Relations in UK Communities. European Sociological Review, 27 (1), 70–89. Laurence, J. (2014). Reconciling the Contact and Threat Hypotheses: Does Ethnic Diversity Strengthen or Weaken Community Inter-Ethnic Relations? Ethnic and Racial Studies, 37 (8), 1328–1349. Laurence, J. (2017). Wider-Community Segregation and the Effect of Neighbourhood Ethnic Diversity on Social Capital: An Investigation into IntraNeighbourhood Trust in Great Britain and London. Sociology, 51(5), 1011–1033. Laurence, J., & Bentley, L. (2016). Does Ethnic Diversity Have a Negative Effect on Attitudes Towards the Community? A Longitudinal Analysis of the Causal Chains Within the Ethnic Diversity and Social Cohesion Debate. European Sociological Review, 32(1), 54–67. Letki, N. (2008). Does Diversity Erode Social Cohesion? Social Capital and Race in British Neighbourhoods. Political Studies, 56 (1), 99–126.

204

R. F. Carvalho

Portes, A. (2014). Downsides of Social Capital. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America, 111(52), 18407–18408. Portes, A., & Vickstrom, E. (2011). Diversity, Social Capital, and Cohesion. Annual Review of Sociology, 37 (1), 461–479. Putnam, R. (2007). ‘E Pluribus Unum’: Diversity and Community in the TwentyFirst Century—The 2006 Johan Skytte Prize Lecture. Scandinavian Political Studies, 30 (2), 137–174. Sassen, S. (2001). The Global City: New York, London, Tokyo. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Schaeffer, M. (2014). Ethnic Diversity and Social Cohesion: Immigration, Ethnic Fractionalization and Potentials for Civic Action. Surrey: Ashgate. Stolle, D., Soroka, S., & Johnston, R. (2008). When Does Diversity Erode Trust? Neighborhood Diversity, Interpersonal Trust and the Mediating Effect of Social Interactions. Political Studies, 56 (1), 57–75. Sturgis, P., Brunton-Smith, I., Kuha, J., & Jackson, J. (2014). Ethnic Diversity, Segregation and the Social Cohesion of Neighbourhoods in London. Ethnic and Racial Studies, 37 (8), 1286–1309. Van Der Meer, T., & Tolsma, J. (2014). Ethnic Diversity and Effects on Social Cohesion. Annual Review of Sociology, 40 (1), 459–478. Vertovec, S. (2019). Talking around Super-Diversity. Ethnic and Racial Studies, 42(1), 125–139. Wickes, R., Zahnow, R., Taylor, M., & Piquero, A. (2015). Neighborhood Structure, Social Capital, and Community Resilience: Longitudinal Evidence from the 2011 Brisbane Flood Disaster. Social Science Quarterly, 96 (2), 330–353. Wickes, R., Zahnow, R., White, G., & Mazerolle, L. (2014). Ethnic Diversity and Its Impacts on Community Social Cohesion and Neighborly Exchange. Journal of Urban Affairs, 36 (1), 51–78. Zukin, S. (1995). The Cultures of Cities. Malden: Blackwell.

11 Refugees and Borders: Simmel’s Contributions on Space and Strangeness to Reflect on the Condition of Contemporary Refugees in Europe Inês Vieira and João Pedro Nunes

Introduction Much of the questions raised by contemporary migrants, ethnic and religious minorities, nomads and other populations who beyond a certain boundary or limit risk the nonexistence or loss of identity, are currently part of a broad territorial and social problematique. In this chapter, we examine Georg Simmel’s classical sociology of space and his view on strangeness as a contribution to reflect on the condition of contemporary refugees With the financial support of FCT—Fundação para a Ciência e a Tecnologia, I.P., through national funds, under the project UID/SOC/04647/2019 — CICS.NOVA (Interdisciplinary Centre of Social Sciences, Universidade Nova de Lisboa).

I. Vieira (B) · J. P. Nunes CICS.NOVA—Interdisciplinary Centre of Social Sciences, NOVA School of Social Sciences and Humanities, Universidade Nova de Lisboa (NOVA FCSH), Lisbon, Portugal e-mail: [email protected] J. P. Nunes e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2020 M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al. (eds.), Inequality and Uncertainty, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1_11

205

206

I. Vieira and J. P. Nunes

in Europe. First, a presentation on the refugees’ arrivals in Europe is put forward, offering both a demographic and a political context for the theoretical discussion. Then, along the lines of the “mobilities turn” in the social sciences, we place refugees and borders within the anthropological and sociological problematique of contemporary fluidity. This approach establishes a close line of thought to Simmel’s sociology and, throughout the text and at its end, it will support a reappraisal of the classical sociologist’s contribution. Next, by presenting and exploring theoretical and empirical research carried out by one of the authors, focusing on refugees lives and itineraries, time and spaces, experiences and meanings, between their countries of origin (Ethiopia and Eritrea), their arrival country in Europe (Italy) and other destinations, we establish a dialogue between Simmel’s sociology of space and the (private) troubles and (public) issues of contemporary refugees. Moreover, we address Simmel’s conceptual constructions on both the “stranger” (“Exkurs über den Fremden” 1908a) and the boundary (“Exkurs über die soziale Begrenzung” 1908b), arguing that Simmel’s theoretical contribution offers a complex reading of the interplay between spatial and territorial conditions, and social relations and societal integration. From Simmel’s sociology of space and strangeness, we move to modern metropolis and urban sociology, following Jeffrey Alexander’s (2004) move from “strangeness” to “civil society” and to contemporary postcolonial and cultural issues raised by migration and refugees. Both discussions and reappraisals are conductive to Mimi Sheller’s (2018) “uneven mobility” as a conceptual frame to re-address refugees and borders. Examining Simmel’s contribution, we suggest that spatial, social and symbolic relations differentiate refugees, both objectively and subjectively, from other categories of “potential wanderers” or “strangers”. For being placed under a strict state territorial control on their arrival at European national states, refugees are, paraphrasing Simmel, not conceived as individuals but as strangers of a particular type. This specific trait is addressed by the isolation of two significant levels of analysis—a structural level, pertaining to state power and control, and an everyday level, concerning the ways in which physical proximity and social distance are constructed.

11 Refugees and Borders

207

Refugees in the World, Refugees in Europe Considerable media attention is being given to refugees in the aftermath of the increased number of asylum seekers in Europe, mainly since 2015. Despite the visibility of this phenomenon and certain national political reactions to it, the actual number of refugees in Europe is not the highest among all arrival contexts, or the highest compared to other categories of mobility. In fact, refugees’ arrival numbers are considerably lower when compared, for example, to the broader category of international migrants. According to the United Nations Population Division at the Department of Economic and Social Affairs (UN DESA 20171 ), in 2017, the international migrant stock (257,715,425) as a percentage of the total population (7,550,262) corresponded to 3.4%. According to the same Division, in 2017 the estimated refugee stock (including asylum seekers) was 25,911,084, which corresponded to 10% of total international migrants and 0.3% of the world population. Yet, these numbers vary significantly if we consider the areas of resettlement of international migrants and refugees. Regarding refugees, in 2017, 82% (21,366,726) stood in less developed regions (Africa, Asia except Japan, Latin America and the Caribbean plus Melanesia, Micronesia and Polynesia), where refugees and asylum seekers as a percentage of international migrant stock corresponded to 19.1%; in Africa this percentage rose to 25.5%, with 44.5% in Eastern Africa alone (UN DESA 2017). While addressing international migrants, in 2017, only 4.2% (10,914,651) stood in low-income countries.2 Overall, the percentage of international migrants was 9.6% in Africa, 30.9% in Asia, 30.2% in Europe, 3.7% in Latin America and the Caribbean, 22.4% in Northern America and 3.3% in Oceania (UN DESA 2017). To understand what this regional distribution might mean for the situation of refugees in the world, we suggest, it is important to consider this specific case of international protection and the territorial enclaves that are generated thereafter. 1 UN

DESA calculations at mid-year 2017, both sexes.

2 Countries’ classification by income levels is based on Gross National Income (GNI) 2016 per capita

by the World Bank.

208

I. Vieira and J. P. Nunes

The international regime for refugee protection was established after the Second World War, in a context of high pressure in the international agenda of issues relating to refugees and displaced persons. This regime is rooted in the United Nations (UN) Geneva Convention of 1951 (UNHCR 2010; grounded in Article 14 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, UN 1948), and generalised in its temporal and geographical extent through the New York Protocol of 1967. The Geneva Convention3 defined the refugee status as applicable to situations of “wellfounded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion” (Article 1, point 2), provided the person is out of the country of origin or habitual residence and cannot be protected by that country. From this juridical definition of “refugee” we can grasp what different authors consider to be a contrasting feature and important qualitative difference between being a refugee and being a migrant: the “breakdown of a basic relationship between state and citizen” (Fiddian-Qasmiyeh et al. 2016: 5). Other authors warn that this type of specific categories, particularly when legitimised as labels, might reveal to be deliberate constructions that exclude and disempower (see Zetter in Fiddian-Qasmiyeh et al. 2016: 4–5). The protection of a refugee might begin, precisely, once he/she crosses the national border. Yet, as we have seen previously, the majority of refugees do not reach the world’s richer regions and countries, where this political mobility driver at origin would mix with a beneficial economic driver upon arrival at a new, resettlement place. Besides, richer countries build harder schemes to admit asylum seekers, for whom the cost of a longer journey might be impossible to cope with. Instead, and besides all those that do not manage to leave the country (including internally displaced persons), most asylum seekers go to nearer destinations, remaining in poor countries that lack the capacity of protecting them and of providing the needed material resources and assistance. 3The Geneva Convention followed the creation of the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR), a key institution with the aim of finding permanent and long-lasting solutions for refugees, namely through integration in an asylum country or resettlement in a second host country. The mandate of UNHCR covers the majority of refugee situations in the world, exception made to Palestinian refugees, which are assisted by the UN Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA).

11 Refugees and Borders

209

Up to 7.1 million refugees were in a “protracted situation” in 2011—an expression that the UN Refugee Agency applies to refugee populations of 25,000 persons or more in exile for five or more years, which existed in 26 countries by then (Castles et al. 2014: 229–230). For these situations, resettlement to a “third country” is the only hope, the alternative being to remain in closed camps with few opportunities for work and education and few possibilities to return to the home country. Actually, right before the harshening of the number of asylum seekers trying to reach Europe (2015), it was calculated that it would take more than 80 years to resettle all refugees that were already in protracted exile, the so-called “queue for resettlement”. In this context, the attempt to go directly into potential host countries is figured as one of the few possibilities for refugees that are facing the unrealistic solutions of other means of international protection (Castles et al. 2014: 230). This can be pointed out as one of the causes of asylum seekers’ movements directly towards Europe. For the asylum seekers who survive the risky pathways up to this territory, once they arrive in the European Union, they are not only under the UN international framework for the recognition of the status of refugee, but they are also under the Common European Asylum System (CEAS)4 that aims to guarantee the harmonisation of common minimum standards for asylum and cooperation between the Member States. Within this system, there are different shared mechanisms and protection regimes. This system includes the influential Dublin Regulation (EU 2013a), which determines the State responsible for examining the asylum application and clarifies the rules governing relations between states—so far on the premises that, for the facilitation of asylum administrative procedures, only one asylum request should be presented and, upon its acceptance, the protected person should remain in that country. CEAS also includes the Eurodac Regulation (EU 2013b) that rules the EU database of asylum seekers’ fingerprints. According to this regulation, both statutory refugees and other types of internationally protected persons—specifically, in the European Union, 4 European

Commission—Migration and Home Affairs—CEAS, accessed on 28 February 2018, https://ec.europa.eu/home-affairs/what-we-do/policies/asylum_en.

210

I. Vieira and J. P. Nunes

through Subsidiary Protection, as stated in both Directive 2004/83/EC5 and Directive 2011/95/EU, and also in Temporary Protection (Directive 2001/55/EC) and Family Reunification (Directive 2003/86/EC)—should resettle in the countries where their asylum procedure has been accepted, and not find a living elsewhere. These refugees’ fingerprints are associated to that country, and if they are found living elsewhere, they can be forced to move back to the asylum country. This means, on the one hand, greater pressure of the number of “integrated” refugees in arrival countries such as Italy and Greece, where special yet insufficient relocation programmes have been set (Council Decision [EU] 2015/1601) after much discussion between EU Member States and without a consensus on the shared responsibilities over the refugee issue in the Union. This also means, on the other hand, that refugees in the EU are not covered by the overall “free mobility” principle that underlies the Union, being instead attached to one country and unauthorised to legally attempt to live in another country.

A Mobilities Approach to Refugees and Borders Refugees face a paradoxical spatial, social and symbolical condition: being subjects of international protection, their status ends up limiting their mobility, placing them under a different set of rights—namely the right to mobility—when compared to other citizens in the European Union. This general feature offers a good standpoint to reflect upon the ways in which mobilities can theoretically and conceptually approach contemporary refugees and borders. For the consideration of mobilities as a (new) research focus, Simmel’s contributions can be considered as foundations. According to John Urry, Simmel can be recognised as the leading author that allowed paving such a field of research. As Urry discusses (Urry 2007: 20–26), different stances

5 No

longer in force, date of end of validity 21 December 2013.

11 Refugees and Borders

211

can be reflected from Simmel’s contributions. On the first hand, Simmel’s contributions regarding mobility infrastructures, related to the different visible impressions of path-building, connection and disconnection (“Bridge and Door”). Second, different socio-spatial patterns of mobility and distinctions in their social form, when Simmel reflects on mobile vs. spatially fixed social groups (“Sociology of Space”). Then, the connection between human physical travel and other mobilities (of information, money, etc.) as well as the connection between mobility, money and the contemporary city, through new, spread modes of movement, multiplied stimuli and changes in metropolitan people’s attitudes towards a raising indifference, in a growingly complex system of relationships (“Metropolis and mental life”). To sum up, “[Simmel was] the author within social science who did most to think about the organisation and consequences of mobilities within social life more generally. [He] was the first to attempt the development of a mobilities paradigm, developing analyses of proximity, distance and movement in the modern city” (Urry 2007: 20). Among other reflections about core mobilities’ questions, like copresence and travel, Simmel’s contribution is considered to be particularly important for the comprehension of another key aspect of the mobilities approach. As Jensen (2006) shows, mobility flows’ material dimension, symbolic orders and meanings, all help to conceptualise the everyday level of flow and mobility, notwithstanding the generalised (dominant) theories of networks and globalisation. As a result, Simmel’s legacy can be retained as particularly important for conceptualising mobilities beyond movement. First, his sociological works not only deal with spatial and temporal assets but also with material features. Second, Simmel’s sociology of space is beyond mere flows between fixed locations. Third, his works, along with John Urry’s (2007) arguments, can be seen as a basis for the possibility to analyse mobility drivers and contexts of origin, transit and destination, and especially relational dynamics and everyday life experiences embedded in mobility (Vieira 2019). Recent discussions on mobilities challenge social sciences’ previous approaches based on compartmentalised categories, like the nation-state, ethnicities and communities, among others. Current critiques identify a “sedentary metaphysics” (Malkki 1992: 31) in which people in mobility

212

I. Vieira and J. P. Nunes

are thought of against the primacy of “fixation in space”. Such criticism has an impact on rooted conceptions of culture and identity as it challenges the sedentary perspective on several grounds. First, it questions its focus on territorial fixation and its correspondence between populations, places and cultures (Salazar 2016). Second, it challenges “sedentary perspectives”, and their reference to “mobility” in a morally and ideologically suspect way, and as a by-product of a world organised through a spatial order which is associated with an authentic existence and a centre of meaning/belonging. In other words, according to Cresswell (2006), when primacy is given to fixation in space, mobility can be seen as a threat and as something dysfunctional. Along the same theoretical lines, within the so-called “mobilities turn”, Sheller and Urry (2006; further developed in Urry 2007) point out the importance of various forms of movement. Besides constituting a new paradigm of mobilities, this perspective not only incorporates new forms of theorising the ways in which people, objects and ideas move, but it also observes social phenomena through the lens of movement. However, as they point out, there are specific inequalities concerning the potential or the possibility to move. Ultimately, the question of potential mobility, and its variability, or the gap between manifest and latent mobility, is addressed by Kaufmann et al. (2004), who put forward motility as a concept. By such a theoretical device they mean to illuminate the way in which the access to necessary means, skills and knowledge interferes with the will to move and then might constitute a comparative advantage. Their perspective allows us to examine the emptiness of the categories of physical movement which are emphasised in narrow readings of either fluidity or nomadism. Not to focus on the movement itself but rather seeking to understand what makes observable movement possible can be, we argue, considered a better frame to explore the conditions and meanings of mobility in social life. Consequently, to address twentieth- and twenty-first-century refugees and borders, the mobilities approach is particularly useful because it makes us reconsider the mobilities’ globalisation as an unequal generalisation of the possibility to move—an important point in understanding the contemporary situation of refugees. One implication of the mobilities

11 Refugees and Borders

213

approach to contemporary refugees and borders is illuminating the European context. In fact, as we presented in the previous section, in the EU a paradox arises between the internal mobility principle (“Schengen citizens”—Castles et al. 2014: 232) and the restrictions to mobility in its external frontier and against non-EU citizens, which contribute to harshening the denouncements of a “fortress Europe” that has been criticised at least since the politicisation of asylum in the 1990s (Castles et al. 2014: 226).

Close with Refugees On-Site: A Typological Presentation of Research Methods and Data This chapters’ reflection on the condition of contemporary refugees is based on research carried out by one of the authors (Vieira 2019). By closely examining refugees’ lives and itineraries, between their countries of origin—Ethiopia and Eritrea—and their arrival country in Europe (Italy) and other destinations, this research elaborated a clear image of their specific time and spaces, experiences and meanings. To explore the reflexivity of migrants and refugees from countries with environmental risk, nineteen refugees were interviewed in Bologna, Italy, in 2012.6 Particular emphasis was then given to pathways of mobility and issues of integration and exclusion in the arrival contexts. Moreover, participant observation was particularly important. An Ethiopian gift and grocery shop near the city centre of Bologna was constituted as an ethnographic site because it was, by then, one of the main meeting points for the Ethiopian and Eritrean groups in the city, in the lack of other “fixed” locations such as headquarters of associations (Vieira 2019). The very process of being present in daily gatherings and gaining the trust of the interviewed refugees—a process that overall was not required for interviews with migrants without a refugee background—was 6 PhD

thesis “From the African drought to the European utopia. Perception of the role of the environment in the mobility of Ethiopian and Eritrean refugees and migrants in Italy and Cape Verdean migrants in Portugal” (FCT grant SFRH/BD/68730/2010) in Human Ecology, NOVA FCSH. Besides the 19 interviews with refugees that are central for this paper, the PhD work further included 13 interviews with Eritrean and Ethiopian migrants in Bologna, Italy (2012) and 22 interviews with Cape Verdean migrants in Lisbon, Portugal (2013–2015).

214

I. Vieira and J. P. Nunes

not only important to establish a trustful relationship on the terrain and to secure interview situations, but also to grasp certain common issues within this population. At first and on-site, age and gender appeared as significant attributes. Being arrived in Italy between 2002 and 2011, the Ethiopian and Eritrean interviewees were by then 16–28 years old. Besides this youth trait upon arrival, this group was composed of a majority of male subjects (16 out of 19). If the ethnographic observation was in line with the statistical predominance of men in a refugee pathway that is considered more dangerous for women, it was also clear that traditional gender roles regarding who should talk in public and be interviewed would matter. As a consequence, many women were informally interviewed, along with fieldwork regular conversations, and their experiences interpreted. Most of these men and women worked in the same contexts—mainly, transport and handling companies, or cleaning services—and both spent most of their working and nonworking time with co-nationals and other foreigners. Having few interactions in the Italian language, they mainly used it for administrative/bureaucratic issues. However, close and firsthand observation revealed that the act of doing an interview was identified by some as recalling the trauma of the arrival, when the asylum process required being interviewed in detention centres, soon after the memories of a 6-month to 3-year-long journey that implied crossing Sudan, Libya and the Mediterranean Sea. One of the more debated issues with these men and women was the condition of Ethiopian and Eritrean groups in Bologna, elsewhere in the diaspora, and in their countries of origin. Within this topic, the refugeerelated “fingerprint problem” was not only constant but also preeminent. This already presented situation is closely related to the Dublin Regulation, as we described above. They suggested that these issues should be disclosed beyond the academic milieu, and it resulted in the production of an independent documentary film.7

7 “Bello

essere Habesha” (2013) by Akio Takemoto, Enrico Turci and Inês Vieira. Only two refugees agreed to be audio-visually interviewed for this purpose, but the majority participated in its different stages and in the first presentation of the film, held in XM24 social centre in Bologna on the 25 March 2015.

11 Refugees and Borders

215

Altogether, when regarding migrant workers in the EU, these refugees’ traits and their more structural conditions—like employment terms, housing conditions, welfare status—led us to considerer a “differently migrant” situation, that can be perceived in diverse ways. First, this specific group can be seen as a social construction by the society of the arrival country, as seen through the Italian media: a “Mediterranean refugee issue”, built around political and security, social and solidarity terms. Frequently, Italian media addressed the question by departing from a disaster-driven mediatisation and including its reflexes in civil society. As a political issue beyond the national space, the “Mediterranean refugee issue” was debated, solutions were proposed and sought at the international scale, where various political levels are at stake, namely in what regards interception, criminalisation and settlement (Vieira 2016). Second, by closely examining the social contexts at arrival and narratives of the interviewed refugees, we can think about what differentiates them from other experiences of migration, namely Simmel’s classical approach to “the stranger”. Regarding the refugees’ pathways, we recall the longer and more dangerous journeys when compared to other migrants from the same contexts of origin. Upon arrival, despite the integration in similar economic activities and within the same companies as other migrant conationals, with common issues related to social and economic integration, we can highlight the added bureaucratic issues of refugees due to their specific statuses and the consequences these issues might have—for instance, when facing a situation of unemployment, the impossibility to further migrate and look for a better economic situation in another country. Third, refugees’ special administrative framing is related to their lack of protection by the State of origin and consequent consideration (when the asylum requests are accepted) within specific legislation for international protection. This protection in the European Union, as we have seen before, is related to the Dublin Regulation, and ends up by limiting their rights of mobility. The overall regime is embedded within structures and procedures that, beyond the national frontiers faced by undocumented migrants and asylum seekers, reinforce the frontiers also in the case of asylum-confirmed, internationally protected refugees. In other words, by reflecting on the social construction of the “Mediterranean refugee issue”, on these men and women pathways, their arrival

216

I. Vieira and J. P. Nunes

and integration, their livelihoods and their legal status constraints, we argue that besides the previously presented frame on refugees in the European context, the situation of EU refugees can be understood as that of “strangers of a particular type”, paraphrasing Simmel (1908a).

On Space and Strangeness—Reading Simmel to Understand Refugees’ Troubles and Issues Simmel’s theoretical contribution offers a complex reading of the interplay between spatial and territorial conditions, and social relations and societal integration. Anticipating contemporary approaches in the sociology of space (Löw 2016; Remy 2015), Simmel emphasises mobility and territorial fixing within processes of movement and de-location against a backdrop of group expansion and increased social differentiation processes. For him, this tension arises from modernity, being strengthened by urbanisation, rationalisation and monetarisation, as well as by the extended intensification of the metropolitan experience (Simmel 1903). As Fran Tonkiss (2005: 30) stated: Simmel can be considered, perhaps, “the first sociologist of space”. In this section, Simmel’s “the stranger” is perceived as part of a broader topic—as Škori´c et al. (2013: 593–594) skilfully show. Simmel’s “excursus on the stranger” is integral to his comprehensive sociology of space. Simmel argues that social relationships, structures and change processes have a spatial dimension. Considering that space is not necessarily the cause of social phenomena, he claims that borders, as a phenomenon and as a form, are a consequence of social aims and are framings of social relationships. A strong processual notion of society is underpinning Simmel’s approach: as society, its institutions and groups constantly elaborate social forms, its spatial projection also occurs. Importantly, Simmel’s sociology of space (Simmel 1908c) also points to rational and political forms of organisation, like the state, and shows that those institutions not only constitute themselves by operating spatially but also that their operations, producing, partitioning and ordering space, are crucial to the build-up of domination and forms of territorial control. The contemporary refugees and their EU border-experiences, as depicted above, clearly relate to these

11 Refugees and Borders

217

Simmelian state space arguments, namely, the rational and political forms of organisation and their concrete operations, processually, bear upon the refugees’ position regarding the arrival society. By means of a sophisticated typology, Simmel identifies five “foundational qualities of space” (Gazit 2018: 221): exclusivity, divisibility, containment, positioning and mobility. Exclusivity highlights the uniqueness of space, meaning that any portion of space is never identical to another. Divisibility refers to the social consequences of dividing space and significantly bears on the author’s sociological understanding of borders (Simmel 1908b). Containment is related to how a group and its objects are settled within specific settings. Positioning refers to the different degrees and dimensions of physical proximity and social distance and their workings both along and within social relations. And, finally, mobility, from which the “excursus on the stranger” begins, being then the criteria that raises the question of new sociation (Vergesellschaftung ) forms engendered by wandering and by migration—that is, by relational processes on which social forms are elaborated by means of interactions. Again, mobility emerges as key. Theoretically, it is one of Simmel’s criteria for space sociology. Empirically, mobility is experienced by refugees as troubling—either in a personal and group sense, as addressed above, when we presented and discussed the Dublin Regulation, or when their legal status in the EU ends up limiting their rights of mobility—an issue that in their view should be publicly and politically addressed. As a social form or type, Simmel’s stranger represents a provisional and contingent unity of both mobility and fixation. As a particular social position and a spatial relation, Simmel (1908a) maintains that the stranger and strangeness are both a condition and a symbol of social relations. On the level of social relations, the stranger as a sociological type expresses not only Simmel’s relationism, but also his understanding of situations of perceived proximity and distance. This is one way of illuminating the refugees’ places of difference, newness and potential equality, as well as the social tensions they experience and the risk of exclusion they face. By positing the stranger as “the potential wanderer” or as someone “who arrives today and stays tomorrow”, Simmel (1908a) unpacks the tension between the stranger’s spatial connection (or propinquity) and social integration. As we have been showing, EU refugees are constrained to “staying

218

I. Vieira and J. P. Nunes

tomorrow” by the effect of the strong mobility limitations that regulates their EU legal status. Furthermore, for Simmel, the relationship of the stranger to the group synthesises two series of opposites—nearness and remoteness, wandering and attachment, physical proximity and social distance. Despite the many forms this tension assumes, Simmel’s point is that the “stranger” is not outside society; in fact, the interactions between individuals and groups that bear national, linguistic or racial dissimilarities among themselves are conductive, according to Simmel, to an important conclusion: the stranger is best understood as a social type, whose sociological qualities arise not from the features of the individual nor from the individual’s choice, but from his/her relations to others. Contrary to an attribute that is projected onto specific individuals, Simmel’s stranger is a category that places people in a particular condition, a category being derived from a social relation and acquiring a range of possible positions, either functional or symbolic, within the division of labour (Karakayali 2006). The refugees’ spatial, social and symbolic conditions can clearly be read along this structural equivalence between Simmel’s type and contemporary sociological questions raised by the migrant worker performing unskilled jobs. Simmel’s “excursus on the stranger” does not focus on nineteenthcentury international migration and colonial regimes. Instead, “the stranger” as a social type, following Simmel’s 1908 text, is commonly depicted from his or her exchange and trade activities, his or her arbitration and objective views and his or her propensity to be a native’s confident on secrecy issues. Nonetheless, Simmel is focused on the radical transformation in modern society, engendered by market and monetary economy and urbanisation. According to Karakayali (2009: 555), Simmel’s argument on the stranger can be improved by considering migrant workers and the tasks they perform within the contemporary division of labour in metropolitan areas. Here Simmel’s sociology of space and strangeness relates to Simmel’s classical argument on modernity and the metropolis, as the siege of the most extensive division of labour (Simmel 1903). In fact, as Karakayali (2009: 555) clearly states: “the gist of Simmel’s argument, which he states in the context of the spread of monetary economy is that in modern society the contrasts that existed between natives and strangers are no longer so

11 Refugees and Borders

219

visible and sustainable (…). This does not necessarily mean that there are no strangers but, as he would reiterate in his well-known essay on metropolis, the relations between modern urbanites resemble strangerrelationships in most aspects”.

On Metropolis and Civil Society—Reappraising Simmel’s Contributions on Refugees and Borders Migrant workers epitomise the strangers’ position within the modern metropolis, site of the most extended and deepened division of labour, for Simmel (1903) and Wirth (1938). According to Andrew Abbott (1997), the Chicago School of Urban Sociology offers an integrated understanding of time, space, biographies and urban areas. Expanding Wirth’s (1938) “urbanism as a way of life” up to Suzanne Hall’s (2015) “migrant urbanisms”, one can see how and why urban sociology consistently unpacks the effects of mobility, social heterogeneity and cultural diversity on the remaking of the urban margins. Globalised cities and metropolis stratifications are both economic and politically generated, as well as crisscrossed by social effects of “super-diversity” (Vertovec 2007)—that is, “the dynamic interplay of variables among an increased number of new, small and scattered, multiple-origin, transnationally connected, socio-economically differentiated and legally stratified immigrants who have arrived over the last decade” (Vertovec 2007: 1024). If the move from “structures in space” to metropolis seems helpful, Jeffrey Alexander’s (2004) move to “discourses in civil society” is important to rethink “strangeness”. Alexander argues that Simmel’s concept “must be rethought in a cultural-sociological way”. By that he means that it is necessary to critically engage the “discourse” that “structures Western projections of strangeness”, and to explore its “relation to colonialism, racial and class domination and national conflict in modern Western history”.

220

I. Vieira and J. P. Nunes

Along the same lines, but from our Simmelian reading, we argue that contemporary refugees’ social conditions can still be understood relationally—in both urban and cultural terms. The contemporary refugees’ conditions show some proximity to Simmel’s “the stranger” typological features. However, what is more important, contemporary refugees’ arrivals condition is structured along a tension between proximity and distance that is clearly postcolonial in structure and scope. Essentially, from a Simmelian perspective, the refugees’ conditions seem to be dominated by the international legal status and state-imposed constraints that mould their spatial position—namely their “fixation” and their condition on the arrival society, both socially and symbolically. The mobilities approach offers an important contribution to this discussion. At stake are clear supranational and national territorial demarcations, while, at the same time, social inequalities are produced through space and the making of frontiers. Recent contributions within the mobilities approach link these inequalities to the differentiation of groups and experiences of mobility: from the mobility elite to the underclass, thus contrasting free movement (with minimal restrictions) and restricted movement in unequal power relations and with limited rights of mobility and citizenship. Mimi Sheller (2018) recently suggested three main senses for the concept of “uneven mobility”: (1) differential mobility capabilities and embodiments; (2) means or modes of movement with different degrees of ease, comfort, flexibility and safety; and (3) the governance and management of mobilities (Sheller 2018: 45–46). As a result of the crossing of these dimensions, refugees and other underprivileged groups in mobility, besides all the harshened frontiers in need to cross, risk becoming particularly “othered” subjects in the contexts of origin, transit and arrival.

Final Remarks In this chapter, we tried to provide an overview of different places of “strangeness” and the spatial-relational construction of contemporary refugees. Despite its visibility, we showed that the presence of refugees in Europe is much smaller and not comparable to refugees’ (forced) permanence in other, poorer regions of the world. The direct attempt to reach

11 Refugees and Borders

221

Europe (and other richer regions) is a consequence of the incapacity of the existing international protection framework to timely resettle refugees in contexts where they could actually rebuild their lives. Once they arrive in the European Union, asylum seekers are not only considered under UN’s refugee jurisdiction but also by the EU’s specific regime and shared procedures. As a consequence of the Dublin regime, within these EU procedures, once their asylum gets accepted, they get stuck in the country where it is being processed, forbidden to migrate further and therefore with limited rights of mobility, against the (EU and Schengen) contextual principle of free movement. By recalling Simmel’s contributions on space and strangeness, namely regarding frontiers or borders as social forms, we highlight how powerful and enduring frames these social facts can operate spatially on certain types of social relations, in this case, associated to domination and territorial control as consequences of the operations of political forms of organisation. Therefore, at a more structural level, this seems to be a first line of differentiation between the classical sociology type of stranger and the contemporary refugee social and symbolic relation. From a more everyday life approach, based on participant observation, interviewing and fieldwork with Ethiopian and Eritrean refugees in Italy, we suggest different dimensions of potential strangeness within the condition of refugees. In this regard, we can highlight a dangerous-travel-marked experience of youth (sometimes childhood) as well as a contrast in gender roles and generational issues in the country of arrival. Besides, it is possible to identify a set of work situations and employment terms similar to other co-nationals but aggravated by refugees’ specific administrative constraints, along with frontiers in language usage—with the Italian language being almost only used for administrative and bureaucratic needs. Through Simmel’s relational approach to proximity and distance, and by means of empirical results originated in the latter approach, we propose a second level of differentiation of the situation of contemporary refugees, which can be more associated to the stranger’s tension between spatial presence and social distance. Altogether, we suggest that contemporary refugees can be both objectively and subjectively differentiated from other categories of “potential wanderers” or “strangers”. Civil society and discourses clearly bear upon

222

I. Vieira and J. P. Nunes

this new sociological view. For being placed under a strict state territorial control by their arrival European national state, integrating the metropolitan division of labour, refugees are, paraphrasing Simmel, facing considerable chances of not being socially understood as individuals but as strangers of a particular type.

References Abbott, A. (1997). Of Time and Space: The Contemporary Relevance of the Chicago School. Social Forces, 75 (4), 1149–1182. Alexander, J. C. (2004). Rethinking Strangeness: From Structures in Space to Discourses in Civil Society. Thesis Eleven, 79, 87–104. Castles, S., Haas, H., & Miller, M. (2014). The Age of Migration: International Population Movements in the Modern World (5th ed.). Hampshire, UK and New York, USA: Palgrave Macmillan. Cresswell, T. (2006). On the Move: Mobility in the Modern Western World. London: Routledge. EU. (2013a). Regulation (EU) No 604/2013 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 26 June 2013 Establishing the Criteria and Mechanisms for Determining the Member State Responsible for Examining an Application for International Protection Lodged in One of the Member States by a Third-country National or a Stateless Person. Brussels: European Parliament and Council. EU. (2013b). Regulation (EU) No 603/2013 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 26 June 2013 on the Establishment of ‘Eurodac’ for the Comparison of Fingerprints for the Effective Application of Regulation (EU) No 604/2013 Establishing the Criteria and Mechanisms for Determining the Member State Responsible for Examining an Application for International Protection Lodged in One of the Member States by a Third-country National or a Stateless Person and on Requests for the Comparison with Eurodac Data by Member States’ Law Enforcement Authorities and Europol for Law Enforcement Purposes, and Amending Regulation (EU) No 1077/2011 Establishing a European Agency for the Operational Management of Large-scale IT Systems in the Area of Freedom, Security and Justice. Brussels: European Parliament and Council.

11 Refugees and Borders

223

Fiddian-Qasmiyeh, E., Loescher, G., Long, K., & Sigona, N. (2016). Introduction: Refugee and Forced Migration Studies in Transition. In E. FiddianQasmiyeh, et al. (Eds.), The Oxford Handbook of Refugee and Forced Migration Studies (pp. 1–19). New York: Oxford University Press. Gazit, O. (2018). A Simmelian Approach to Space in World Politics. International Theory, 10 (2), 219–252. Hall, S. (2015). Migrant Urbanisms: Ordinary Cities and Everyday Resistance. Sociology, 49 (3), 853–869. Jensen, O. (2006). ‘Facework’, Flow and the City: Simmel, Goffman, and Mobility in the Contemporary City. Mobilities, 1(2), 143–165. Karakayali, N. (2006).The Uses of the Stranger: Circulation, Arbitration, Secrecy, and Dirt. Sociological Theory, 24 (4), 312–330. Karakayali, N. (2009). Social Distance and Affective Orientations. Sociological Forum, 24 (3), 538–562. Kaufmann, V., Bergman, M., & Joye, D. (2004). Motility: Mobility as Capital. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 28(4), 745–756. Löw, M. (2016). The Sociology of Space: Materiality, Social Structures, and Action. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Malkki, L. (1992). National Geographic: The Rooting of Peoples and the Territorialization of National Identity Among Scholars and Refugees. Cultural Anthropology, 7 (1—Space, Identity, and the Politics of Difference), 24–44. Remy, J. (2015). L’espace, un objet central de la sociologie. Toulouse: Érès Editions. Salazar, N. (2016). Keywords of Mobility. What’s in a Name? In N. Salazar & K. Jayaram (Eds.), Keywords of Mobility: Critical Engagements (pp. 1–12). New York and Oxford: Berghahn. Sheller, M. (2018). Mobility Justice: The Politics of Movement in an Age of Extremes. London, UK and Brooklyn, NY, USA: Verso. Sheller, M., & Urry, J. (2006). The New Mobilities Paradigm. Environment and Planning A, 38, 207–226. Simmel, G. (1903). The Metropolis and Mental Life. In D. Frisby & M. Featherstone (Eds.) (1997), Simmel on Culture: Selected Writings (pp. 173–185). London: Sage. Simmel, G. (1908a). Exkurs über den Fremden. In Soziologie. Untersuchungen über die Formen der Vergesellschaftung. Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, S. 509–512. Translation by K. Wolff (1950). The Sociology of Georg Simmel (pp. 402–408). New York: Free Press. Simmel, G. (1908b). Exkurs über die soziale Begrenzung. In Soziologie. Untersuchungen über die Formen der Vergesellschaftung. Berlin: Duncker & Humblot.

224

I. Vieira and J. P. Nunes

Translation by U. Teucher & T. Kemple. (2007). The Social Boundary. Theory, Culture and Society, 24 (7–8), 53–56, Sage. Simmel, G. (1908c). Sociology of Space. In D. Frisby & M. Featherstone (Eds.) (1997), Simmel on Culture: Selected Writings (pp. 137–170). London: Sage. Škori´c, M., Kišjuhas, A., & Škori´c, J. (2013). Excursus on the Stranger in the Context of Simmel’s Sociology of Space. Sociológia, 6 (45), 589–602. Takemoto, A., Turci, E., & Vieira, I. (2013). Bello essere Habesha. Bologna: Independent Documentary Film. https://belloesserehabesha.wordpress.com. Tonkiss, F. (2005). Space, the City and Social Theory: Social Relations and Urban Forms. London: Polity Press. UN. (1948). Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Paris: United Nations General Assembly. UNHCR. (2010). Convention and Protocol Relating to the Status of Refugees. Geneva: The UN Refugee Agency. UN DESA. (2017). Trends in International Migrant Stock: The 2017 Revision. United Nations Database, POP/DB/MIG/Stock/Rev.2017. United Nations, Department of Social and Economic Affairs, Population Division. Urry, J. (2007). Mobilities. Cambridge, UK and Malden, MA, USA: Polity Press. Vertovec, S. (2007). Super-Diversity and Its Implications. Ethnic and Racial Studies, 30 (6), 1024–1054. Vieira, I. (2016). The Construction of the Mediterranean Refugee Problem from the Italian Digital Press (2013–2015): Emergencies in a Territory of Mobility. Networking Knowledge: Journal of the MeCCSA Postgraduate Network, 9 (4). Vieira, I. (2019). “Entre a seca africana e a utopia europeia”. A percepção do papel do ambiente na mobilidade de refugiados e migrantes etíopes e eritreus em Itália e cabo-verdianos em Portugal (Ph.D. thesis in Human Ecology). Lisbon: NOVA FCSH. Wirth, L. (1938). Urbanism as a Way of Life. American Journal of Sociology, 44 (1), 1–24.

12 The Use of Factor Analysis in Urban Research: The Case of the Metropolitan Area of Bilbao Iraide Fernández Aragón and Cristina Lavía Martínez

The way in which urban nuclei have been organised since their very inception and, particularly their unequal and diverse structuring has long been a central topic of study in the social sciences. Today’s urbanised and global panorama poses new challenges, turning cities into places that can at different moments welcome or reject newcomers. The urban mosaic, as Timms (1976) defines it, contains major inequalities that characterise both preindustrial and industrial cities, and also planned cities, be they capitalist or socialist. In the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, this differentiation has been even further accentuated, partly as a result of the globalisation of migration (Castles and Miller 1998) and the development of the neo-liberal city. The influx of individuals from many different places, each with their own I. Fernández Aragón (B) · C. Lavía Martínez University of the Basque Country, Leioa, Spain e-mail: [email protected] C. Lavía Martínez e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2020 M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al. (eds.), Inequality and Uncertainty, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1_12

225

226

I. Fernández Aragón and C. Lavía Martínez

cultural patterns, has turned today’s city into a melting pot of cultures and ethnic groups, yet also a fractured, polarised space generating inequality (Musterd 2005). At the same time, financial globalisation has established neo-liberal models of city production (Córdoba 2014), which have in turn intensified social inequality. Authors such as Harvey (2013) argue that the class struggle is particularly strongly manifested in the fight for space in the city. Although this approach has been criticised for its economic determinism, the intensification of spatial divisions that clearly objectify class divisions is a very specific feature of the problem of the struggle between rich and poor. From any perspective, the city is clearly a differentiating space and the metropolitan region of Bilbao (Basque Country, Spain) is no exception, as evidenced by its municipal structure. The current metropolitan area of Bilbao (which we shall henceforth refer to as the MAB) is the product of a historical development forged against the backdrop of industrialisation, which over the years has created differentiated and functionally specialised urban spaces. Although the economic activity of these areas has changed, they still preserve the same demographic, socio-economic and urban logic with which they were created. The metropolitan area comprises 32 separate municipalities with a total population of approximately 900,000, of whom 5.6% are foreign nationals. In addition to the central Bilbao area, the MAB also encompasses the two margins of the river estuary—the left bank (margen izquierda), historically the most industrialised area and the right bank (margen derecha), traditionally home to the city’s haute bourgeoisie. The largest municipalities in these two areas are, respectively, Barakaldo and Getxo. The purpose of this chapter is to detect and describe the settlement patterns of immigrants in the MAB, identifying the structural factors that influence any given residential location. This study therefore seeks to answer the following questions: Is there currently a residential differentiation in Greater Bilbao? How do foreign nationals integrate into this urban structure?

12 The Use of Factor Analysis in Urban Research …

227

We centre our analysis on three basic dimensions: urban, demographic and socio-economic, constructed using information from the 2011 population and housing census. We have taken the census tract1 as our unit of analysis, enabling us to make update and comparison compare certain features using the 2015 Municipal Register (Padrón Municipal ). The structural factors influencing residential location have been analysed using a principal components factor analysis. With the final solution of this analysis, we performed a K Means cluster analysis to build a socioresidential map of the MAB as the urban context of location patterns of the population living in this area. The study and, more particularly, the theory of residential differentiation was first initiated in the Chicago School in the 1930s with Park and his disciples. Research into spatial differences and inequalities has continued to be a major topic of study down to the present day. These studies received a significant methodological boost in 1955 with the Index of Dissimilarity (Duncan and Duncan 1955) as a basic indicator. After the segregation indexes, Social Area Analysis and Factorial Ecology made use of powerful newly developed statistical tools for handling large amounts of data, opening a more multi-dimensional line. The current debate on residential differentiation, especially in Europe, suggests that it is necessary to focus on explaining the causes of this differentiation, on the one hand, and the effects or consequences on people in these areas, on the other (Checa Olmos 2006; Musterd 2005; Kempen and S¸ ule Özüekren 1998; Wacquant 2001).

The Data and the Process of Selecting Variables Urban analyses—especially factorial analysis—depend almost entirely on the variables selected in designing the model. The process of selecting these variables is therefore of particular importance. The first step is to define the dimensions of the urban structure. This will depend on the specific research goals (Chart 12.1). 1 In

Spanish, sección censal, a sub-unit of a municipality with a population of between 1000 and 2500, unless the population of the corresponding municipality is less.

228

Chart 12.1

I. Fernández Aragón and C. Lavía Martínez

Dimensions, aspects and variables

Source Authors

12 The Use of Factor Analysis in Urban Research …

229

Using these suppositions, we initially selected three socio-spatial dimensions: residential, demographic and socio-economic. The variables were selected in a two-phase operation: in the first stage, we selected initial variables based on theoretical criteria previously used in the area and other newer ones (such as Internet access in the home). In a subsequent phase, we selected the variables that will form part of the final factorial model based on technical criteria (especially values of over 0.4 in the communalities,2 which indicates which variables are best represented). The residential dimension encompasses characteristics of the urban environment and housing that might influence urban differentiation. It includes aspects related to the quality and state of the building, type of dwelling and form of tenure. The demographic dimension provides basic information on the population structure in terms of sex, age and household composition. It includes classic aspects for analysis, such as those related to “Family Status”. This dimension commonly includes indicators related to “Segregation” or “Social Origin”, i.e. nationality. This is a central aspect of our work, which seeks to detect differentiation of foreign residents in the urban space of the MAB. It was therefore decided to exclude this aspect from the factor analysis—whose aim is to analyse the underlying urban structure—and then subsequently observe how foreign immigrants integrated into this structure. This decision was based on a number of technical and theoretical issues: firstly, the nationality variable did not reveal a different structure in the factor analysis, since it was not grouped together with other variables in a factor. Secondly, the communality of the variable fell below the desired level. And thirdly, by excluding the nationality variable from our analysis of the structure, we were able to make an a posteriori analysis of the influence of this structure on its urban distribution. Finally, the socio-economic dimension focuses on the characteristics of this population structure related to occupation and level of education. It includes classic aspects related to “Social Rank”, i.e. social stratification.

2 Of

the 36 variables initially included, 24 were selected for the final factorial solution.

230

I. Fernández Aragón and C. Lavía Martínez

As for the operating variables comprising the model, because this is statistical information based on the census tract, the sole source is the population census taken in 2011.3 The units of analysis are aggregate population data per census tract. Since these vary in size, expressing them in absolute terms would reproduce the effect of that size. The variables selected are therefore expressed as relative measurements—specifically, percentages and rates.

Factors Explaining Residential Differentiation Using the variables and dimensions described in the section above, we will summarise the information using the principal components technique to determine the most relevant factors influencing residential structure—in other words, the issues that may cause differentiation and characterise the 708 different census tracts forming the 32 municipalities in the MAB. This technique allows us to summarise a large quantity of census information in a few explanatory factors. It is therefore a fundamental tool for understanding the underlying structure of urban differentiation. After checking the contribution of the variables and the KMO and Bartlett indicators (more than 0.5 in the first case [0.634] and significant in the second), we then select the factors. Using the “eigenvalue > 1” criterion, we select a solution of 7 factors that explain 71.76% of the variance. The rotated component matrix, in our case with Varimax orthogonal rotation, is shown in Table 12.1. We thus obtain seven factors, although, given their scores, it is somewhat difficult to allocate some variables to a single factor.

Factor 1: Socio-Economic Status The first factor is the one with the highest explanatory power, explaining 22.6% of the total variance. It concentrates variables from the socio-economic dimension.This factor, SOCIO-ECONOMIC STATUS, 3The

most recent census available, which did not become accessible until 2014.

12 The Use of Factor Analysis in Urban Research …

Table 12.1

231

Rotated component matrix (Varimax)

Source Authors

places census tracts characterised by skilled and unskilled workers and unemployed persons on the one hand in opposition to those with workers from higher groups with higher studies on the other. It is, therefore, a fundamental factor in understanding residential differentiation, not only because of its major weight in the explained variance but because this is a classic factor in terms of social class. Indeed, the formation of this factor with variables linked to occupational status, labour classification, education and, residually, rental tenure, is reminiscent of the classic definition of “Social Rank” used by Shevky and Bell (1955) for their Social Area model

232

I. Fernández Aragón and C. Lavía Martínez

and later exported to ecological factor analysis. It is also a common factor in other studies conducted in the city of Bilbao and elsewhere in Spain. In the case of Bilbao, for example, Leonardo (1989) identified this same factor, which he termed “Social Rank”, as later confirmed by Antolín et al. (2010) using census data from 2001. The location of this factor in the MAB is interesting, since it characterises each of the component tracts in relation to socio-economic status. Tracts characterised by a high socio-economic status and higher studies (extreme negative position) are fundamentally found in the municipalities of Bilbao (65% of tracts), Getxo (25%), other right-bank municipalities such as Leioa and, residually, in some left-bank tracts such as Portugalete. Interestingly, tracts of these characteristics are either absent or scarce in some large municipalities such as Barakaldo, Basauri and Sestao, all on the left bank of the river. This confirms that there is a sociological gap between the two banks of the river, as discussed in the introduction.

Factor 2: Age Structure The second most discriminating factor (12.9%) refers to the demographic variables of population age. The factor differentiates between areas with a greater proportion of over-60s—and consequently, a higher rate of dependency—and those with a younger population profile (0–16 or 25–39). In conclusion, this factor differentiates areas of the metropolitan area with the largest population of elderly people. This factor, known as “Urbanisation” is commonly used and is part of the classic tradition. It is often combined with household size (although not in our case). It has also been used habitually in studies conducted in Bilbao, for example, Leonardo (1989), where it was Factor 3, “youth/old age” and Antolín et al. (2010) which also differentiated under-15s from over-65s. The factor was also identified in Marbella by Natera (2002), where it places under-35s in opposition to over-65s. In her analysis of social areas in the Basque urban system, Lavía (1995) also identifies five factors, of which the one that discriminates the municipalities of the Basque Autonomous Community to the greatest

12 The Use of Factor Analysis in Urban Research …

233

extent is the “Rural-Industrial Continuum”, essentially explained by differentiation between “Youth/Old Age” and “Agriculture/Industry” (Lavía 1995: 322).

Factor 3: Tenure, Old Building This third factor explains 10.7% of the total explained variance. However, it includes variables from the demographic and residential dimension, thus establishing an interesting differentiation. The positive side of this factor (TENURE, OLD BUILDING), shows the oldest buildings in the metropolitan area (50+ years), in rental and with few facilities (no central heating, no lift). This is probably housing that has received little investment, precisely it is intended for the rental market. In other words, this factor clearly differentiates (residentially) older areas with a high proportion of rentals from other more recently built areas where home ownership is more common. The homeownership contained in this factor does not correspond to newly built areas, but areas where large numbers of buildings were built in the 1970s and 1980s. This is a very useful factor for understanding residential differentiation in terms of ownership and building age. It is new with respect to the socio-spatial dynamics detected in other analyses conducted in Bilbao and its metropolitan area. This is probably due to the fact that the presence of rental accommodation was residual up until the pre-crisis period (before 2010) (Fullaondo et al. 2013). However, we find a very similar factor in the case of Barcelona, where Fullaondo (2008) identifies a third factor with an explanatory power of 13% which he calls residential space, differentiating rented homes in the city’s old quarter from owned homes in peripheral areas built in the 1960s and 1970s.

Factor 4: Shared Housing The fourth-most discriminating factor has an explanatory power of 8.9% and is made up of variables in demographic and urban dimensions. This factor, which we call SHARED HOUSING, is characterised by areas of housing with two or more bathrooms, with a household size of 5 or more.

234

I. Fernández Aragón and C. Lavía Martínez

It also shows considerable levels of saturation in the “higher studies”, “Internet connection” and “aged 17–24” variables. Indeed, in previous tests, this last variable has been grouped in this factor. This would suggest apartments shared either by students or foreign nationals. However, the saturation levels of other variables not assigned to this factor suggest that most are likely to be student apartments. As for the spatial location of this factor in the MAB, on the positive side (households of 5 or more, 2+ bathrooms) 85% of the tracts with these features are concentrated in 3 municipalities: Bilbao (45% of tracts), Getxo (32%) and Leioa (7.4%). The municipality of Leioa was historically divided between a rural and an urban area (the latter created close to the river estuary during the industrial period). It also houses the largest campus of the state university (University of the Basque Country), and this may partly explain the concentration of these types of tracts in this municipality.

Factor 5: Modernity, in Work The factor with the fifth-highest explanatory power of the variance (8%) is what we call “MODERNITY, IN WORK” and includes variables from the socio-economic and residential dimensions. It discriminates areas containing newer and recently completed buildings (0–19 years old), with Internet and persons in work from those with the oldest housing (30–49 years old). It therefore characterises the modernity of the building and its facilities— that people in work can afford. The age of the building, as well as its facilities, have not previously been considered in analyses of Bilbao and its metropolitan area, and there is therefore no precedent in this regard. However, some international studies show a relationship between home facilities and the “Social Rank” category (Shevky and Bell 1955; Weclawowiz 1979) or as an isolated factor, as in the case of Gittus (1965) in Liverpool.

Factor 6: Dwelling Status The sixth factor accounts for 5.8% of the total explained variance and includes variables from the urban dimension, all related to DWELLING

12 The Use of Factor Analysis in Urban Research …

235

STATUS, i.e. whether the dwelling is a second or unoccupied home. This factor differentiates urban areas with the highest proportion of this type of dwelling, although as the percentages show, they are still a minority. Few studies include this variable; however, because there are precedents for the case of Bilbao and because the analysis includes metropolitan areas of great diversity, we feel it is of interest to our analysis. In the case of Bilbao, Antolín et al. (2010) define a fourth factor with an explanatory power of 10% formed by empty dwellings and foreign population. This combination is not very common among analyses of this kind, which tend to associate the nationality variable with demographic variables (Díaz Muñoz 1989).

Factor 7: Population Aged 17–24 This last factor, which explains 4.2% of the variance, is not really a factor per se, since it centres exclusively on the demographic dimension, specifically on the “Aged 17–24” variable. It is related to Factor 2 “Age structure” and Factor 4 “Shared Housing” (the factor in which it was included in preliminary factor trialling).

Socio-Residential Map of Greater Bilbao Having reduced the information from the 24 variables to 7 factors, with an explanatory power of 73.3%, our next goal is to classify the census tracts into strata that are as internally homogenous and as mutually diverse as possible, based on the variables derived from the factor analysis. Thus, by combining our factors, which include variables from the three domains analysed (residential, demographic and socio-economic), we can define a socio-residential map of Bilbao and its metropolitan area. These tracts have been classified in a two-stage process. Firstly, using the hierarchical cluster technique, we determined the number of groups or strata. Secondly, by applying K Means clustering, we defined which different tracts belonged to a specific stratum. By combining the two techniques, based on factorial scores, we finally obtained the types of tract existing in the MAB according

236

I. Fernández Aragón and C. Lavía Martínez

to the three dimensions analysed, whose spatial location (i.e. the socioresidential map) we shall subsequently analyse. Firstly, by applying cluster analysis with the Ward method, we obtained a total of 5 strata, based on the clustering obtained in the dendrogram and the cluster history coefficient.4 Once the number of strata had been defined, a K Means cluster analysis was applied with mobile centres and 5 fixed groups to determine which stratum each tract belonged to. This analysis enabled us to determine the sociological characteristics of each group and subsequently define and locate them in the urban space. Table 12.2 shows the results of this analysis, with 5 groups that have an unequal distribution of tracts, ranging from Stratum 1 which contains 3.7% of all census tracts in the MAB (26) to Stratum 2 which contains 31.6% (224). The initial and final centres show the differences after application of the optimising sorting procedure, thus enabling us to interpret the final centres in relation to their position in the different factors. Thus, a cursory look at the strata gives us the main and summarised features of each one on the basis of its position and degree of polarisation in each factor. With the location and exploration of the mean percentages in the variables, we define the resulting strata. Chart 12.2 shows a summary of these 5 factors we have given to each one.

Stratum 1: New Working-Class Areas This stratum defines the new younger working class, living in areas of new housing. This is reflected in the position of this stratum concerning the central socio-economic status and in its extreme values with respect to the “Modernity, in work” factor. This is clearly the stratum with the largest average percentage of new housing. Although its position in the “Age Structure” factor is not entirely clear, it has above-average percentages of 0–16 and 25–39 year-olds, probably indicating the presence of young couples and families. Because the housing is new, the average scores for the 4 Due

to the size of the resulting dendrogram, it is not possible to reproduce it here. We based our decision on the conglomeration history, which shows the performance of the coefficient. It was decided to detain the classification at Stage 702, where the coefficient jumps from 1,725,473 to 1,936,364, thus giving 5 groups or strata.

26 224 131 159 167 708

Source Authors

n

1 2 3 4 5 Total

Tracts

3.7 31.6 18.5 22.5 23.6 100

%

F2 5.4397 −.3578 −.2937 .0792 3.4035 0

F1

−.7851 −1.053 .0832 .2562 3.0927 0

Initial centres

Results of K Means analysis

Stratum

Table 12.2 F3 .6351 −1.684 3.1437 1.2396 1.3033 0

F4 −1.491 .8833 1.3159 −3.644 .9674 0 1.3461 .3664 .6370 −.1711 −.9471 0

F1

2.5690 −.5329 −.4200 −.2433 .5952 0

F2

Final centres −1936 −.7152 1.4951 −.1974 .1263 0

F3

.0100 .5127 .0194 −1.237 .4275 0

F4

12 The Use of Factor Analysis in Urban Research …

237

238

Chart 12.2

I. Fernández Aragón and C. Lavía Martínez

Description of resulting strata

Stratum

Name

Description

Tracts

1

New working- class in new housing

131

2

Emerging young

3

Marginal areas

4

Elderly upper-class in old housing

5

Former working-class

Predominance of newly-built homes, with residential facilities and working population Young population, young families, with a large presence of people working in higher groups, higher studies and good residential facilities Predominance of homes over 50 years old, no lift, rented accommodation, apartments of 5+ people, unskilled workers and unemployed people Apartments over 50 years old, with facilities, with a strong presence of over-60s, higher studies and people working in higher groups Apartments built in the 1970s, elderly population, skilled and unskilled workers

159

26

167

224

Source Authors

“with heating” and “no lift” variables are very high and low, respectively. The stratum shows an occupational profile composed largely of skilled workers, with above-average values. These are therefore the new working class living in areas of new construction, and they are, logically, found in nearly all the municipalities in the metropolitan area.

Stratum 2: Emerging Young Areas This stratum stands out for its extreme location in the age factor (it is the only one with a strong youth trend) and its negative position in the socioeconomic factor, which indicates a high socio-economic status, exceeded only by Stratum 4. This stratum encompasses young upper-class people

12 The Use of Factor Analysis in Urban Research …

239

living in buildings dating from the 1970s and new homes, showing a pattern of relatively young households. With regard to the socio-economic status of the population living in these areas, there is an above-average level of people with higher studies, in work and in the higher groups in the working category, while the “skilled and unskilled workers” categories are below those for the MAB as a whole.

Stratum 3: Marginal Areas This stratum is comprised especially of people of a low socio-economic status and areas of rental accommodation in old housing with few facilities. If we examine the characteristics of this stratum in detail, it can be seen to have extreme percentages for the variables comprising these factors. As for building age, it has the highest percentage of homes of over 50 years old (67.8%), very much higher than the average for the metropolitan area as a whole (29.5%); it also has the highest rates of rental (16.5%), twice the general average. Similarly, there is a clear downward socio-economic trend with the highest percentages of unemployed and working-class definers and low percentages of higher studies. This stratum consists of areas with a moderate trend towards an elderly population and the presence of empty dwellings. It therefore includes working class, living in areas of old housing—the most underprivileged sector in our analysis and also the least numerous. These areas, which are shown in Map 12.1 at the end of this section, are located mostly in Bilbao, but also in Santurtzi, Sestao and Erandio. In Bilbao, they are concentrated in the slum areas of Otxarkoaga, builtin 1960 to accommodate people cleared from the shantytowns; nearly the entire area of Ibaiondo, which includes the districts of San Francisco, Bilbao La Vieja and Zabala; the working-class district of Rekalde and Uretamendi and the northernmost area of Basurto, Zorroza. The location of these areas reinforces our definition of the stratum, and we can therefore define them as demographically, urbanistically and socio-economically marginal. This is based not only on the underprivileged status of the population but also the urban degradation of these areas. This type of area has been identified in other similar research in Spain (Fullaondo 2008).

240

I. Fernández Aragón and C. Lavía Martínez

Map 12.1

Socio-residential map of the MAB (Source Authors)

Stratum 4: Elderly Upper-Class Areas This stratum stands at the extreme negative end of the socio-economic factor, indicating the highest socio-economic status. It also occupies one of the extremes in the age factor, indicating an older population. Indeed, this stratum has the highest rates of over-60s, higher studies and “higher group” employment, identifying it precisely as elderly upper class. Turning to the other variables, this stratum has a much higher-than-average proportion of buildings over 50 years old, 2 or more bathrooms—an indication of the size of the home—and households of 5 or more individuals. However, the “unemployed” and “workers” variables are very much below average. Based on these variables, we can define not only a demographically elderly upper class, but moreover one that lives in areas with a predominance of large, old housing. These areas (Map 12.1) are found only in 12 municipalities and usually in iconic parts of their respective municipalities, such as Abando, Casco

12 The Use of Factor Analysis in Urban Research …

241

Viejo and Castaños in Bilbao and the coastal area, with beaches and large detached homes in Getxo, from Aixerrota to Las Arenas and Neguri.

Stratum 5: Former Working-Class Areas In the selected factors, the scores for this stratum indicate a group with a medium/low socio-economic status and a predominance of over-60s. Based on our analysis of the average percentages of the variables, we can define this stratum as former working class. Firstly, we can see that the “building age between 30 and 49 years” variable is higher in this stratum than in any other; these are buildings constructed between the 1960s and 1980s. The “aged 60+” variable also scores highest in this stratum. The rate of (skilled and unskilled) workers is above the average for the MAB as a whole. However, other variables, such as higher studies, the “higher groups” occupational category and residential facilities are very much below average. All the evidence would seem to suggest that this is the working class formed in the 1970s and 1980s. The spatial location of these areas confirms this hypothesis, since they are in municipalities and areas of these characteristics, such as the large municipalities on the left bank and the mining area (Barakaldo, Santurtzi, Sestao, Portugalete and Ortuella) and areas of Bilbao previously categorised as “working-class outskirts” such as Otxarkoaga and Santutxu. We could therefore identify it as the former middle class of working-class origin or the traditional “working class”. Map 12.1 gives a very clear depiction of the socio-residential structure of the MAB based on its classification into these 5 types of area. Firstly, we can see that there are few marginal areas (the least numerous group), most of which are concentrated in the city of Bilbao. The region’s industrial stage is clearly reflected in the numerous traditional working-class areas scattered throughout Bilbao and many of the left-bank municipalities. The sections representing other newly constructed areas, populated by the new working class are also scattered. These patterns reflect, on the one hand, the depletion of building space in the large urban centres, which meant that construction was concentrated in small municipalities and, on the other, a period of economic and financial crisis that brought construction of new

242

I. Fernández Aragón and C. Lavía Martínez

homes to a standstill and thus ended the possibility for the population of accessing these homes. We can also see a general trend towards the uppermiddle classes, which could be identified with Strata 2 and 4, and which is concentrated especially in Bilbao and on the right bank. The sociological gap between Bilbao and the two banks of the estuary is clearly visible in Map 12.1, showing strongly differentiated areas. Nonetheless, an itemised analysis by census tract shows that each municipality has a microstructure in which various strata are often represented. Analysing the map at municipal scale, one sees, on the one hand, the towns that developed during the Industrial Revolution as a result of inward migration from other parts of the Basque Country and the rest of Spain between 1940 and 1975. Barakaldo, the chief example of this urban development boom, still contains many tracts of former working class, combined with some newly built tracts on the outskirts of the municipality, a residual upper class and a considerable emerging upper-middle class. In the case of Santurtzi and Sestao, these working-class areas are more numerous, although Santurtzi has more areas of new construction than Sestao. The so-called “mining area”, also includes municipalities of these characteristics, such as Trapagaran, Ortuella and Abanto. Although geographically part of this area, Muskiz displays distinguishing characteristics, with a large number of areas of new construction and upper-middle class areas located in areas of single-family dwellings. We also identified a large area including part of the municipalities of Sondika and Zamudio where the elderly upper class is located. The two municipalities are small (fewer than 5000 inhabitants) with a large proportion of single-family dwellings. However, the largest areas with elderly upper-class living in old housing are found in Bilbao and Getxo. The latter has large areas of emerging upper class and elderly upper class running as a continuum along the coast and its adjacent districts. Bilbao, because of its history, dimensions, location and status as the provincial capital, contains areas of all 5 types. The map also confirms a feature we have mentioned throughout the text; districts (distritos 5 ) are complex units of analysis due to their vast heterogeneity. This is the case of District 5 (Ibaiondo), where we find three highly differentiated areas: 5A

distrito is an administrative sub-division of the city. Bilbao is comprised of 8 distritos.

12 The Use of Factor Analysis in Urban Research …

243

on the left side of the river, there is a large marginal area adjoining another area of new housing in the Miribilla and San Adrián area. On the other side, we find the whole older upper-class area of the old quarter (Casco Viejo). The latter forms a quasi-continuum with the area of the Ribera and Abando, which are also part of this large upper-class area. The existence of a “working-class periphery” (as we previously referred to it), is confirmed, tracing a large former working-class area which stretches in the northern area of the city from Uribarri to Santutxu, and in the south from Rekalde to Basurto, in both cases skirting around the areas closest to the centre. The logic that broadly applied to the MAB as a whole would appear to be reproduced in Bilbao, whose geographical limitations enable it to change in population make-up and distribution, but not in size.

Immigration and Socio-Residential Areas Having established the factors that explain differentiation in the MAB and having drawn up a map of the region in terms of 5 types of area, in this section we shall analyse the immigrant foreign population in the urban context thus defined. In this investigation, we posed the hypothesis that settlement by this group is determined by features of the migratory process itself and the urban context. Therefore, having diagnosed and defined the urban context, we then needed to ascertain whether this context generates unequal patterns with respect to the areas and factors. Up until this point, we have performed the analysis separately. In this section, however, we will combine the results of the urban structure and the population of foreign nationality. As discussed in the introduction, the migratory phenomenon in Greater Bilbao has gathered pace over the last 20 years. Following a period in which migratory flows halted and were eventually reversed during the period of economic crisis (2011–2016), they have again resumed during the period of recovery of the economy and job market. Although the percentage of foreign nationals in Greater Bilbao still continues to be one of the lowest in Spain (8.8% in Greater Bilbao, 13.6% in Spain) the phenomenon is of great relevance in a social and political context, impacting the local agenda and drawing constant references in the media (Ikuspegi 2018). In parallel,

244

I. Fernández Aragón and C. Lavía Martínez

significant changes are occurring in the internal composition of this group; the proportion of Latin American nationals is falling while the percentage of immigrants from Africa (especially the Maghreb) is increasing, albeit the former group continues to be in the majority (51% in the case of Greater Bilbao) (Ikuspegi 2018). As a range of different investigations show, the different groups show uneven levels of integration in society, and for this reason, it has been decided to analyse them separately (Ikuspegi 2018; Fernández Aragón and Shershneva 2017; Cea d’Ancona and Valles Martínez 2010). For example, the Chinese population is conspicuous for its high level of labour integration and low social integration; the African population for its low social and labour integration and the Latin American population for its high social and labour integration. These differences are also reflected in their integration into the urban structure of Greater Bilbao, as we shall see. We shall first analyse the make-up of the areas in terms of nationality and determine the relative share of the different nationality categories. Because we use the census tract as the basis of analysis, we can employ data from the 2015 municipal register to provide an up-to-date snapshot. Table 12.3 shows the total and foreign populations of each of the five urban areas defined. As discussed in the previous section, each area comprises a different number of tracts, and consequently, each has a different population. The areas with the largest total populations are those Table 12.3

Population make-up of the urban areas of the MAB, 2015 New, workingUpper Former class Emerging Marginal elder, old workingareas young areas buildings class

Total population Foreign population Foreign population (%)

167,423

199,527

31,363

192,974

273,534

7818

10,394

2957

10,171

15,467

4.7

5.2

9.4

5.3

5.7

Source Authors. Data from 2011 Census and 2015 Municipal Register

12 The Use of Factor Analysis in Urban Research …

245

characterised as “former working class” (approximately 273,534) followed by areas of “emerging young” (199,527) and “elderly upper class in old housing” (192,974). The least populated are the new, working-class areas (167,423) and the so-called “marginal areas” (31,363). Based on the initial hypothesis of this investigation, one would expect that those areas in which the socio-economic status is lower or where there is more rental accommodation would have a greater percentage of foreign nationals, or at least higher than the average for the MAB (5.6%). Defining characteristics of the foreign population include rental accommodation (a result of the migratory process itself and their available economic resources); a somewhat lower educational profile than Spanish nationals; less access to employment and in worse conditions (in terms of wages and stability). These issues vary enormously depending on the group studied, but they do appear to indicate a certain vulnerability of the general group which should be over-represented in areas that are characterised by these indicators. Thus, we see in Table 12.3 that the areas with the highest percentage of foreign residents are precisely the “marginal areas”, which are particularly composed of people of a low socio-economic status and areas of rental in old housing with few amenities (9.4%). “Former working-class” areas also have a much higher proportion of foreign residents (5.7%). At the other extreme are the new, working-class areas, with a predominance of new owned properties; here only 4.7% of the population are foreign nationals. In areas where the socio-economic status is higher, the percentages are below average for the MAB as a whole—5.2% in the case of the “emerging young” areas and 5.7% in areas of upper-class in older housing. We performed a detailed analysis of the distribution of different nationalities by strata, comparing each to Spanish nationals, to see whether these distributions differ from one another and the majority category. Table 12.4 shows the socio-residential characteristics of the settlement areas of foreign and Spanish populations grouped by broad areas of origin. Firstly, the autochthonous Spanish population can be seen to be distributed very unevenly in different areas. Their presence in the so-called “marginal areas” is residual, and the highest proportion is found in the “former workingclass” areas. However, nearly half of the population live in areas of a high

246

Table 12.4

EU-15 EU-28 Maghreb SubSaharan Africa Latin America China Rest of Asia Spain

I. Fernández Aragón and C. Lavía Martínez

Distribution of nationality groups by areas, 2015 (%) New workingUpper class Emerging Marginal elder, old Working areas young areas buildings class

Total

17.9 18.4 16.9 14.0

25.1 23.8 19.7 16.5

4.6 3.3 9.6 12

26.5 21.1 22.6 24

25.9 33.3 31.3 33.5

100 100 100 100

15.3

22.3

4.6

29

28.8

100

15.3 14

15.8 21.9

7.6 4.9

35.2 32.5

26.1 26.8

100 100

19.6

23.2

3.5

22

31.7

100

Source Authors. Data from 2011 Census and 2015 Municipal Register

socio-economic status, indicating a trend for the autochthonous population to settle in these areas. The snapshot differs enormously if we look at the other nationalities in the same table. The distribution of EU-15 citizens—i.e. citizens of the EU countries with the highest economic level—is similar to that of the autochthonous population. People from the EU-28 group (especially Romania), are mostly located in the “Former working-class” areas (33.3%) with a very low presence in “marginal areas” (3.3%). The distribution of people of Maghrebi origin is very different; the largest proportion are in “Former working class” (31.3%), but the percentages are very much higher than the autochthonous population in marginal areas and below it in the “new working-class areas”. The Sub-Saharan African population differs most from the distribution of the Spanish population. There is a particularly high percentage of people from this group living in “marginal areas” (12%), while they have a very low presence in “new working-class areas” and areas of the highest socio-economic status. The largest group of people of Latin American origin is found in areas of “elderly upper class in old housing” (29%), followed by “former working-class” and “emerging young” areas. They have quite a low presence in “marginal areas” and in areas with large amounts of new owned housing. The Chinese population, on the

12 The Use of Factor Analysis in Urban Research …

247

other hand, shows a clear preference for upper-class areas with old housing (35.2%) and “former working-class” areas, although it is distributed throughout all areas in the MAB, with a notable presence in “marginal areas” (7.6%) but little presence in areas of new housing. Thus, we see that some nationality groups have a greater tendency to live in areas of the highest socio-economic level, such as the Latin American and Asian communities; while others have a larger presence in lower level areas, such as Africans and to a lesser extent, Chinese. Apart from EU citizens, all have a low presence in “new, working-class areas”.

Main Conclusions The key finding of this study is that there is a non-random urban differentiation and organisation of the metropolitan area of Bilbao, from which arises a structure based on social class and urban conditions that generates inequality. This socio-residential structure fragments the city into 5 types of area; areas of new working-class living in newly constructed housing; areas of emerging young people with a high socio-economic position; the marginal areas, with old housing and people of low socio-economic status; areas formed by elderly upper-class people, living in old housing; and the areas of the former working class, also older but with a lower socioeconomic status and in buildings dating from the 1970s. In this situation, a distinction is drawn between centre and periphery (in geographic and sociological terms), between upper and lower social classes, and between pleasant and run-down urban environments. This is the stage within which newcomers to the region have to forge a path for themselves, socially and residentially. This, in itself, is a relevant conclusion. Nonetheless, one might well ask, in consonance with the purpose of this study, how foreign immigrants integrate into this urban context. Is the differentiation that exists in their logic of residential integration a decisive one? The relative presence of foreign nationals in the so-called “marginal areas” and “former working-class” areas backs our initial hypothesis that immigrants integrate socially and

248

I. Fernández Aragón and C. Lavía Martínez

residentially in more underprivileged social classes and are not distributed according to the same patterns as the autochthonous population.

References Antolín, E., Fernández, J. M., & Lorente, E. (2010). Estrategias de regeneración urbana y segregación residencial en Bilbao: apariencias y realidades. Ciudad y Territorio: Estudios Territoriales (163), 67–81. Castles, S., & Miller, M. J. (1998). The Age of Migration. London: Palgrave. Cea d’Ancona, M. Á., & Valles Martínez, M. (2010). Xenofobias y xenofilias en clave biográfica. Madrid: Siglo XXI. Checa Olmos, J. C. (2006). La diferenciación residencial. Conceptos y modelos empíricos para su comprensión. Granada: Editorial Comares. Córdoba, R. (2014). El modelo de urbanismo neoliberal enfocado en el turismo y el ocio como ejemplo de insostenibilidad. Encrucijadas-Revista Crítica de Ciencias Sociales, 8, 189–203. Díaz Muñoz, M. Á. (1989). Hacia un modelo de diferenciación residencial urbana en España. La aportación del análisis de áreas sociales y la ecología factorial. Estudios territoriales (31), 115–133. Duncan, O. D., & Duncan, B. (1955). A Methodological Analysis of Segregation Indexes. American Sociological Review, 20 (2), 210–217. Fernández Aragón, I., & Shershneva, J. (2017). Convivencia en espacios de racismo institucionalizado. Empiria, 127–154. Fullaondo, A. (2008). Inserción y lógica residencial de la inmigración extranjera en la ciudad. El caso de Barcelona (Tesis doctoral). Universitat Politècnica de Catalunya, Barcelona. Fullaondo, et al. (2013). Variaciones residenciales y población extranjera. Leioa: Servicio Editorial de la Universidad del País Vasco. Ikuspegi. (2018). Panorámica de la inmigración. Leioa: Servicio editorial Universidad del País Vasco. Gittus, E. (1965). EW Burgess and DJ Bogue, “Contributions to Urban Sociology”(Book Review). Town Planning Review, 35 (4), 337. Harvey, D. (2013). Ciudades rebeldes: del derecho de la ciudad a la revolución urbana. Madrid: Ediciones Akal.

12 The Use of Factor Analysis in Urban Research …

249

Kempen, R., & S¸ ule Özüekren, A. (1998). Ethnic Segregation in Cities: New Forms and Explanations in a Dynamic World. Urban Studies, 35 (10), 1631–1656. Lavía, C. (1995). Areas sociales en el sistema urbano vasco. Oñati: IVAP. Leonardo, J. J. (1989). Estructura urbana y diferenciación residencial: El caso de Bilbao. Madrid: CIS. Musterd, S. (2005). Social and Ethnic Segregation in Europe: Levels, Causes, and Effects. Journal of Urban Affairs, 27 (3), 331–348. Natera, J. J. (2002). Heterogeneidad social y diferenciación residencial en Marbella. Málaga: Biblioteca Popular Malagueña. Shevky, E., & Bell, W. (1955). Social Area Analysis. Theory, Illustrative Application and Computational Procedures. Stanford University Press, 3, 125–139. Timms, D. (1976). Social Bases to Social Areas. Social Areas in Cities, 1, 19–39. Wacquant, L. (2001). Parias urbanos. Marginalidad en la ciudad a comienzos del milenio. Buenos Aires: Manantial. Weclawowiz, G. (1979). The Structure of Socio-Economic Space in Warsaw 1931 and 1970: A Study in Factorial Ecology. The Socialist City Spatial Structure and Urban Policy, 52, 387–423.

Part IV Answers for Urban Inequalities

13 From “Chabolas” to Invisible Squats: A Reflection on the Residential Informality Evolution in Madrid Noel A. Manzano Gómez and María Castrillo Romón

Squatting is an increasing practice in Europe (Martínez 2013) and particularly in Spain. Since the subprime crisis, in a context of the overabundance of empty buildings, job insecurity, and absence of social housing, squatting has become an extensive residential solution for the popular classes in Madrid (Manzano Gómez 2015). An object of a growing mass media and political debate the last years, a new legal frame is attempting to regulate and increase the repression over this practice on the whole country. However, if we read this phenomenon in historical perspective, the situation is not new. The attempts to regulate unauthorised housing in Madrid, as well as in many Spanish cities, started, at least, one century ago. The incapacity of the market to provide housing for popular classes (Engels [1887] 2006) has been historically structural in Madrid. Being overpassed by popular groups, in Madrid as in other Spanish cities, through This text comes from research funded by the European Union’s Horizon 2020 programme under the Marie Skłodowska-Curie grant agreement No. 721933.

N. A. Manzano Gómez (B) · M. Castrillo Romón Universidad de Valladolid, Valladolid, Spain © The Author(s) 2020 M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al. (eds.), Inequality and Uncertainty, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1_13

253

254

N. A. Manzano Gómez and M. Castrillo Romón

diverse unauthorised residential solutions that today we would qualify as “informal”.1 The unauthorised construction of shelters had been shortly mentioned as a historical precedent of housing squatting in Europe (Castells et al. 1978; Bouillon 2007; Prujit 2013). While the existence of poor, residential areas self-developed outside the State legality happened in the most part of European countries, mainly in the first decades of the twentieth century (Manzano Gómez 2018), the first tales of European housing squats seem to start after the Second World War (Friend 1980; Castells et al. 1978). This work aims to explore the genealogy (Foucault 1979) of the poor, illegal housing in Madrid. We will show the mutual adjustments between institutional legal frameworks and poor populations housing practices, discussing some analogies that could indicate the existence of historical, structural elements in this phenomena. Allowing us to provide elements for a serious debate in a current, highly controversial subject in Madrid and Spain.

Exploring a History of Residential Informality and Territorial Control In the present article, we will define residential informality as a housing solution based on the use of empty spaces illegally, arbitrarily repressed or tolerated by the State. These spaces, developed in the margins or in defiance of urban planning, have given rise in the last years to an enormous amount of scientific literature, an “informal turn” (Elsheshtawy 2011) inside urban sociology. However, most parts of the analysis have neglected the historical dimension of this phenomenon. The historical existence of informality would be inherent to the state’s regulatory action. “State law inevitably creates counterparts, zones of ambiguity and outright illegality. (…) when states forbid things, they create opportunities for illegal goods and services” (Heyman and Smart 1999: 1 Engels

himself explained the difficulty of solving the housing problem by only regulating the housing sector. In his own words, this kind of solutions “will be overpassed by the economic laws” (Engels 2006: 37).

13 From “Chabolas” to Invisible Squats …

255

1–5). However, the relationship between informal residential practices and the normative and institutional framework developed to control them is complex, requiring for its analysis to go beyond the simple concepts of legality and illegality (Mcfarlane 2008) The study of the influence of regulations on the evolution of illegal practices is not new. Weber himself considered that “what determines the validity of a prescription is not the fact that it is observed, but the fact that certain activities are oriented according to it” (Weber 2007: 322–323 in Maccaglia and Morelle 2013). In that sense, more than the definition of the rule, it is the “tolerance towards its possible transgression, which deserves an analysis, always with the aim of grasping the reality of a system of power, at the service of discipline and control of conduct” (Maccaglia and Morelle 2013: 3). These reflections are aligned with the concept of “nomotropism”, which mean “acting in light of rules”, but not necessarily “in conformity with rules” (Chiodelli and Moroni 2014). The Institutionalist Theory assumes the not real dichotomy between the spaces generated by the formal and informal sector. The complex character of this relationship has recently been described interrelating informal urbanisation and control institutions (Chiodelli and Tzfadia 2016). However, we consider that these interrelations would conform a “historical thickness”, requiring a representation similar to the following one (Fig. 13.1): The metaphor of a four-lane two-direction road linking the production of formal-informal space and the formal institutions (Chiodelli & Tzfadia, 2016) reinterpreted in historical terms, not as a circle but as a spiral: mutual influences make both fields evolve together along the time. Source: the authors, based on the figure “The complex nexus between formal institutions and the production of (formal and informal) space”. (ibid. 2016)

The introduction of a historical perspective allows us to show the relevance of concepts such as “path dependence” and “critical junctures” (Sorensen 2015) for the study of the evolution of formal urbanisation, “exogenous forces” (Collier and Collier 1991) to analyse the impact of informality in institutional adaptations, and “compliance” (Mahoney and Thelen 2010)

256

Fig. 13.1

N. A. Manzano Gómez and M. Castrillo Romón

Historical evolution

to describe the gaps between legal frameworks and public administration practices. The text that follows seeks to delve into this gap, discussing the evolution between the unauthorised settlements of Madrid in the twentieth century and the housing squats that emerged in the same city after 1970s to become, today, a fundamental housing solution for impoverished populations.

Methodology for the Study of the “Historical Thickness” of the Unprivileged Classes Residential Informality in Madrid This article is going to confront the institutional actions and popular practices of residential informality around two historical informal processes in the city of Madrid: • Chabolismo: unauthorised settlements of poor populations in the suburbs, metropolitan outskirts of Madrid whose expansion occurred mainly during the first half of the twentieth century.

13 From “Chabolas” to Invisible Squats …

257

• Ocupaciones or “invisible squats”: nowadays, an emerging practice of housing occupation from poor populations. The historical evolution of popular residential informality in Madrid, has never been the subject of a “longue durée” analysis to highlight their genesis, historical relationships, and connection to the present. This text, therefore, can only have an exploratory character. Its elaboration is based mainly on the synthesis of empirical materials about institutional/regulatory frames and housing strategies of adaptation of low-income populations. Collected by two independent research programmes, each one focused on a different historical expression of residential informality in Madrid. The first one was carried out between 2013 and 2015, concluding with a Master’s dissertation for the Département de Sociologie of Paris 8 University, in France. The fieldwork, started with a first exploration of PAU de Vallecas, a peripheral neighbourhood in Madrid. Subsequently, the participation in different housing social movements permitted carrying out 68 semi-structured interviews mainly with squatters, but also with local authorities, legal neighbours and social workers. Focusing on the adaptations of the population to the housing crisis, the emerging squatting practices and the social structures developed to make it possible. The second one, currently in progress, explores the history of informal urbanisation also in the periphery of Madrid, and the institutional regulations and spatial tools developed to control it. It is based on local, regional and national archives, as well as current historiography and historical press and articles. Clues of popular self-help housing practices are readable in these sources. This comparison between past and present expressions of residential informality will allow us to discuss their relationship with the legal frames that had tried to contain them, helping us to identify some historical structural patterns and to discuss the institutional path-dependence evolution. For this purpose, we will study three moments. In the first place (i) the historical development of popular neighbourhoods in the absence of urban planning, and their problematisation at the beginning of the twentieth century. In second place (ii) the implantation of systems of territorial control, and the illegal reproduction of this phenomenon. Finally (iii)

258

N. A. Manzano Gómez and M. Castrillo Romón

we will go deeper into the present-day mechanisms of illegal housing by populations without resources.

Background: The Growth of the Deregulated City Before the twentieth century, diverse alegal arrangements can be found in the periphery of Madrid to manage the city’s growth. However, it is in the first decade of the century when the City Council began to consider the necessity of administrative measures to regulate them. The problematised urban periphery is known locally as “Extrarradio”, a word that designates the territory that, being within the municipality of Madrid, is outside the urban centre (“Interior”) and the city extension (“Ensanche”), that is, outside the spatial scope of application of the urbanisation and building regulations (Vorms 2012). The combined effects of the arrival of low-income populations, with the high cost of land and housing in the city centre and the legally planned urban expansion leads to a large part of the popular classes of Madrid building their own homes on the outskirts in an alegal manner. Forming, since the mid-nineteenth century, settlements that would gradually become spaces for growing political contestation and demands for urban amelioration (Vorms 2012; Hernandez Quero 2017). From the 1910s onwards, both the press and the debates within the city hall and the national parliament reflect what will be known as the “Extrarradio problem”. An expression that designates an open conflict around the growth of this new popular periphery, which is both (i) cultural and political and (ii) economic. The cultural and political dimension of the conflict with these new, popular outskirts of Madrid is based on the difference between the dominant city promoted by social reformism (Castrillo Romón 2001), and the social, health and aesthetic characteristics of the real peripheries. This conflict is not only reflected by the press (Sierra 2018) but also in normative documents. The “problem of Extrarradio” legitimises the formation of the first city plans that, beyond the limits of the areas regulated in the

13 From “Chabolas” to Invisible Squats …

259

nineteenth century, proposes the eradication of a big part of the precarious housing areas in the name of the “beautiful city” (Nuñez Granés 1910). The economic conflict over land use has functional causes. On the one hand, the lack of regulation leads to speculative phenomena. The possibility of producing habitat indiscriminately increases the (private) expectations of obtaining land rents in the peripheral territories. Contributing, on the one hand, to accentuate the problem of the shortage of adequate housing. And on the other hand, hindering the development of new public infrastructures (mainly transport routes), since the legal framework charge that increase in property expectations to the price to be paid by public expropriations. In addition, the lack of regulation leads to a proliferation of housing and constructions that, precisely because they are not illegal, generate significant expropriation costs. In order to solve this “problem of the Extrarradio”, successive institutional adaptations were aimed at a set of solutions that included (i) establishing a set of rules that prescribe the urbanisation of certain parts of the territory, (ii) establishing minimum standards in the type of housing produced. Subject of different not implemented regulations (Bassols Coma 1973) finally in 1946, in a dictatorial context, the government effectively put in place, for the first time, a master plan. Known as the “Plan General de Ordenación de Madrid”, it imposes the zoning of land uses in the metropolitan area and prohibits the construction of housing in certain areas of the periphery, reserved as green spaces. However, at the end of the 1940s, a large number of precarious dwellings begin to emerge precisely on these future green spaces. Developed by countryside immigrants, by populations evicted from the city centre, and from repressed populations needing to escape the political control of the regime (Burbano 2015), an increasing part of the popular classes of Madrid concentrates in these areas. The 1946 Madrid plan will not achieve its stated aim—to restrict the production of new housing to the planned spaces—but it will have an important side effect: to undermine the legal status of those areas. The reproduction of the “housing problem” (Engels 2006), that is, the structural inability of the housing market to provide housing for the working classes had until then been offset by the production of small, often

260

N. A. Manzano Gómez and M. Castrillo Romón

self-built, homes. This dynamic will begin to contradict the increasing standardisation of the built space that urban planning implies.

Territorial Control and the Emergence of Illegal Housing: “Chabolismo” In Madrid, the construction process of illegal and very precarious housing—chabolas—associated to these underprivileged populations is known as “chabolismo”.2 This process takes place under the “repressive tolerance” of the authorities. The houses are often located on areas that, despite their normative status, have been illegally developed in private plots (de Lucio 1988) or occupied State land. These procedures generate, on the one hand, a black market for real estate and, on the other, an enormous diversity of housing tenure situations among their population; documented ownership of the dwelling and the land on which it is located, ownership only of the dweller, possession without any title, documented rent, rent without contract, etc.… (Montes et al. 1976). Although “chabolismo” seems to be initially build up with the tolerance of public authorities, in a context of the need of cheap labour for the industrial development (Burbano 2015), since the early 1950s, this reproduces in the new urban periphery conflicts similar to those which, decades before, had constituted the “problem of Extrarradio”. On the one hand, the descriptions of the documentary sources show the reproduction of the cultural and political dimension of the conflict between the “poor” city and the city prescribed by the urban planning. Which in Madrid also should be a symbol of the governmental success of the Franco dictatorship. In order to tackle this situation, the Ministry 2 We

use this term in its popular meaning, embracing all the heterogeneity of this phenomena, that could be translated in English as “shantytown”, or “slum” housing production. Although for several decades, the administrative designation of the housing unit of these spaces, the “chabola”, lacks an unequivocal definition (Vorms 2013), in 1969 the Spanish Ministry of Housing defined it as a “built area, about 18 m2 ; height less than 2.2 m, one floor; as a service only has electricity, which is supplied by private companies; number of people per dwelling, 1 to 4; living area per person, 5 m2 ; walls are reduced to half a foot of brick, partition or board; the roof is made of cane and stone with or without a ceiling, the pavement of rammed earth, ceramics or cement” (Valenzuela Rubio 1975).

13 From “Chabolas” to Invisible Squats …

261

of the Interior approves for the whole country the “Decree of August 11, 1953”, which attributes to the “Dirección General de Regiones Devastadas” (planning institution dependent on the central government) “the power to proceed with the demolition of caves, shacks, huts and other similar uninhabited constructions”, with the aim of “beautifying the entrance of some towns, as well as the borders of tourist transit roads”. This law also establishes the demolition of empty buildings and the relocation of the populations that may live in the destructed shelters. Secondly, economic aspects as the speculative land price increase on the periphery, the high costs of expropriation consequence of it, and the need to relocate populations without resources to achieve the urban projects, are again pointed out as problematic (Matesanz and Belmessous 2014). The approval by the national government of the “Plan de Urgencia Social de Madrid”3 and the “Plan de Absorción del Chabolismo”4 will lead to the construction in Madrid of 60,000 and 30,000 homes respectively (Valenzuela Rubio 1975). Despite their explicit purpose, to eradicate “chabolismo”, and the use of completely extraordinary means, both plans proved themselves insufficient. Since 1956, the newly created “Comisaría General para la Ordenación Urbana de Madrid”, a planning institution made up of members of different ministries and national and local administrations, acts against the construction of “chabolas” and systematically demolishes those already built (de Lucio 1988). The Land Law—Ley del Suelo—passed that same year for the whole of the national territory allows for the destruction of buildings erected without a licence and the easier expropriation of the land on which they are established. The following year, in 1957, a decree is approved against the “clandestine settlements” that prohibits immigrating to Madrid without already demonstrating “adequate housing” in the city and establishes strong sanctions for the owners of the land on which “chabolas” are built. The same

3 BOE

14 noviembre 1957. Jefatura del Estado. Ley de 13 de noviembre de 1957 sobre Plan de Urgencia Social de Madrid. 4 BOE 18 abril 1961. Decreto 656/1961 de 6 de abril.

262

N. A. Manzano Gómez and M. Castrillo Romón

decree establishes the creation of a specific police force to combat informal urbanisation: the “Servicio de Vigilancia del Extrarradio”, (Extrarradio Surveillance Service) dependent on various ministries of the central government. In the context of urban policies and police control of the territory, clandestinity seems to be the main strategy of cheap housing provision and resistance to demolition. If alegal construction before 1936 was based exclusively on the low cost of land and the proximity of transport, in the 1940s and 1950s, “invisibility” against police control began to be an explanatory variable of both the location and the characteristics of these areas (de Castro 1961). Archival documents show that although the “Servicio de Vigilancia del Extrarradio” does a lot of hard work in suppressing “chabolismo”, it is unable to avoid its reproduction. The “Comisaría General de Ordenación Urbana”, together with the “Extrarradio” police, sometimes use the expropriated “chabolas” as a sort of “social housing” relocating populations that they evict from other areas. Maintaining some informal urbanisations, like “Poblado de la Celsa” or “Pozo del Huevo” as spaces of confinement and police surveillance of “misfit” gipsy populations.5 These spaces will not be demolished, remaining in unclear circumstances until the 2000s. The control of the State over territory and, in particular, the intervention of the public authorities against “chabolismo” had a turning point with the implementation of the aforementioned 1956 Land Law. A new way of city production is articulated through this norm, making private initiative and real estate market motors of urban planning and land urbanisation. This new paradigm conditions the “Plan General de Extensión Urbana”, approved in 1963. This plan divides the entire metropolitan territory into sectors, urban fragments designed and executed by private developers. These projects will be subject to the approval of the urban administration. The 1963 plan includes a mechanism, “Juntas de Compensación”, groups together the owners of the land in an area subject to a detailed plan according to their ownership quota. It concentrates power in the largest

5 ARM

136918/1, correspondence of the General Luis Martos Lalanne.

13 From “Chabolas” to Invisible Squats …

263

landowners and sets out mechanisms for expropriating land in order to avoid obstacles in the progress of (private) development planning. Archival work attests some initial, silent outbreaks of discontent and rebellion against the “chabolas” demolition consequence of this planning development.6 However, the rise of the new mechanism leads the inhabitants to mobilise in a explicit and combative way since the end of the 1960s, resulting in incipient associativity among the “chabolas” population. The emergence of direct opposition to the renovation plans and the “chabolas” eradication has immense consequences not only for urban development, but for Spanish society as a whole. The “Asociaciones de Cabezas de Familia”, later renamed “Asociaciones de Vecinos”, emerged not only in Madrid but in the main cities of Spain. Constituting “breeding grounds” that allowed the formation of a clandestine political opposition in Spain and the end of the Franco regime (Valenzuela Rubio 1981; Ofer 2017). In 1973, official sources7 show the existence of 101,604 inhabitants in “chabolas” within the municipality of Madrid (Valenzuela Rubio 1975). After the arrival of democracy, at the end of the 1970s, an enormous operation of demolition and rehousing is carried out: the “Programa de Remodelación de Barrios” provides social housing to more than 149,000 Madrid “chabolas” residents between 1979 and 1986. However, a part of their population, mainly Roma, are below the socioeconomic criteria necessary to obtain the new social housing (Aguilera 2015). This population remains in more peripheral land, building “chabolas” with less solid materials, subject to a higher risk of being expelled. “Chabolismo”, from this moment on, persist in a much smaller dimension, being the object of specific policies against social exclusion (Aguilera 2015). The need for cheap housing, not provided by the real estate market to the poor and working classes, re-emerges in the next decades. However, the growing mechanism of spatial control makes the development of “chabolismo” more difficult. 6 Archivo

Histórico del Partido Comunista Español. Fondo Cartas de la Pirenaica 174/13, 177/3. Letters from different authors between 1963 y 1965. 7 Censo de chabolas del término municipal de Madrid 1973.

264

N. A. Manzano Gómez and M. Castrillo Romón

Invisible Illegal Housing: The Phenomenon of “Ocupaciones” Named by recent literature as “silent occupations” (Carabancheleando 2017), “precarious occupations” (PAH 2018), or “survival occupations” (Aguilera 2015), the occupations of empty houses by low-income populations have become in the last decade an emerging phenomenon, both in Madrid (Manzano Gómez 2015) as in other Spanish cities (Obra Social Barcelona 2018). However, unlike the phenomenon of “chabolismo”, whose spatial delimitation is relatively clear, occupations present strong difficulties both to quantify them and to identify them spatially. While in our archival research we have found public power discussions about “squatting problems” from the 1950s to the 1970s, building occupations appear to be marginal in relation to the importance of “chabolismo”. However, from 1976 onwards, individuals without resources supported by “Asociaciones de Vecinos” began to organise the occupation of empty houses by homeless populations. In 1978, demonstrations against speculation in Madrid demanded a solution for “chabolismo”, the expropriation of empty flats and the support to “ocupaciones” (Martínez López and García Bernardos 2014). In the early 1980s, the so-called “okupa” movement began to develop, influenced by European anti-capitalist urban movements, with the politically explicit aim of constructing alternative and communal ways of life in empty buildings (Martínez López and García Bernardos 2014). Despite the fact that literature describes the coexistence and interconnections between “ocupaciones” and “okupaciones”, the latter seems to become predominant during the 1980s, 1990s and 2000s (Martínez 2013; Bogado 2011). Although its influence is notable as a social movement, its quantitative importance as a housing solution does not seem crucial until the arrival of the global crisis of 2008, when begins a big increase of “ocupaciones” (Carabancheleando 2017: 133–134). The reasons are multiple. On the one hand, the real estate bubble has produced a huge stock of empty homes, concentrated in the hands of the financial sector. Although the available data is not very reliable, officially in 2011 there were more than 3,600,000 empty homes in Spain, of which more than 260,000 corresponded to Madrid. On the other hand, the strong precarisation of

13 From “Chabolas” to Invisible Squats …

265

work and the multiplication of evictions generates a social mass with great difficulties to pay for housing in the formal market, including the rental market. The population that occupies housing has hardly any other housing alternatives. The reduced historical presence of social housing in Madrid has been aggravated since 2012 by various privatisation operations of social housing owned by the city of Madrid—EMVS—and the autonomous community—IVIMA. The new owners, by means of diverse procedures of an alegal or illegal type, multiply the expulsions of families who lived there (Manzano Gómez 2015). The impossibility of obtaining social housing and the impossibility of self-constructing dwellings were spontaneously described in the fieldwork interviews (2015) as reasons for having started to occupy empty dwellings. This change of direction has also been picked up by various media, which would have placed the dismantling of the last “chabolas” settlements in the city as the origin of housing squats. The existence of “ocupaciones” is possible thanks to a certain legal tolerance. Although the occupation of empty houses has been considered a crime of “usurpation” since 1995, this practice is rarely punished in homeless people. The slowness of the justice system and the legal difficulty for the police to expel without judicial permission delay “ocupas” evictions sometimes for up to one or two years. Making them more difficult than an eviction for unpaid rent. The emergence of housing squats as a large-scale, popular solution is only possible through the acquisition of “precarious skills” on the part of the populations that would take part in them (Bouillon 2009). We refer to the set of legal and technical learnings necessary to access homes, make them habitable (connecting to electricity, water, etc.) and resist evictions. The high increase in this practice would have occurred thanks to the transmission of these skills through various forms of collective organisation. On the one hand, activists from social movements fighting for the right to housing8 have conducted workshops on these practices, supporting the occupation of houses belonging to banks and financial funds, and visibly organising collective occupations as a means of political vindication. 8 We

refer, among others, to “Obra Social de la Plataforma de Afectados por la Hipoteca”.

266

N. A. Manzano Gómez and M. Castrillo Romón

On the other hand, but frequently related to it, diverse “invisible” organisations of populations with scarce resources squatted empty houses in a non-explicit political way. These networks had an extraordinary capacity for collective organisation and housing provision. Our fieldwork showed that using different social networks as neighbourhood sociability, family ties or ethnic affiliation, a number of individuals occupied empty houses, avoiding eviction, or forcing owner-occupied investment funds to negotiate with them to take back control of the homes (Manzano Gómez 2015). Faced with the direct and politically explicit struggle of social movements, these “invisible” occupations have greater quantitative importance and exert a “subaltern resistance”, that is, a set of strategies to reverse a situation of domination, avoiding direct confrontation with power and its consequences (Scott 1985). However, some occupations do not seem to be exempt from mercantilisation. Small groups, known by the media and some of the squatters as “mafias”, are dedicated to locating, opening and renting empty houses, with different prices according to the security of the house against expulsions. Faced with “ocupaciones”, the position of public institutions and formal real estate agents is ambiguous. Financial groups are officially against it. However, the regularisation of squatters in empty dwellings through “social rents” has become a relatively common practice for such groups. The methodological difficulties of obtaining verifiable data on this matter make it impossible to establish certainties in this matter, which could be read as a victory for the social movements and the “ocupas” in their struggle for housing and their resistance to evictions. However, the fieldwork revealed that a number of “ocupas” who had negotiated “social rents” considered that, due to the banks’ inability to sell or rent empty housing at the desired price -that is, for speculative reasons—obtaining small rents with precarious contracts could suit financial interests. The spatial concentration of poor populations in “chabolas” was in the same time repressed and tolerated by public powers. The emergence of “ocupaciones” means an atomisation of residential informality, consistent with the hypothetical transition from a disciplinary society (Foucault

13 From “Chabolas” to Invisible Squats …

267

2004) to a control society (Deleuze 1990), in which social control technologies would no longer require the physical concentration of populations. The Spanish “chabolas” neighbourhoods, whose demolition process has accelerated in the last few decades until almost disappearing, could have ceased to be functional not only for poor populations, but for the spatial control of the “social risks” associated to them. The “ocupaciones” are a topic currently omnipresent in the media. The absence of social programmes for poor populations seems to be making the phenomenon chronic (Manzano Gómez 2015). The recent approval of Law 5/2018 of 11 June, known as the “anti-squat law”, is destined to increase the repression on the squats of small owners and to maintain a certain tolerance with regard to the squats owned by financial entities. Although we again lack reliable data, our hypothesis is that, on the one hand, this new law responds to a social demand of small homeowners frightened by a booming phenomenon. On the other hand, it seems to constitute a new expression of “repressive tolerance”, punishing but accepting residential informality instead of providing housing alternatives with full rights.

Conclusions. Structure and Evolution of Illegal Housing in Madrid The use of a “historical thickness” has allowed us to understand the different historical adaptations and interdependencies between legality and the residential informal solutions, and to identify certain historical elements that seem to have a structural character. The birth and development of institutions dedicated to regulating the land use—urban planning, in particular—and the repression developed by public administrations to make it possible, implied an increasing repression of poor, self-developed neighbourhoods until it became a practice today extremely marginal in Madrid (and also in the rest of Spain and Europe). Conducting to a progressive invisibilisation of self-help housing practices whose extreme would represent today the housing squats. It is possible to appreciate certain continuities and historical patterns in the

268

N. A. Manzano Gómez and M. Castrillo Romón

Cultural conflict

Fear to uncontrolled poor popula ons

Menace to desired city PUBLIC POWERS PROBLEMS WITH INFORMAL HOUSING

Challenge to legal order

Economic conflict

Private and public business threat

Black market

Fig. 13.2

CHABOLISMO

OCUPACIONES

Illegality as inductor of crime and social deviance

Illegality as an inductor to crime and social deviance

Diseases focus

Drugs focus

Poli cal subversion

Poli cal subversion

Unwanted construc ons in visible loca ons

Unwelcomed popula ons

Offence to urban planning regula ons

Offence to civil and penal law codes

Threat to land ownership (land squats) Obstruc on to land management By-pass to private capital gains (land squats)

Obstruc on to real state management By-pass to private capital gains (collabora ve housing squats)

Capital gains to "pirate" developers (lo fica ons)

Capital gains to “pirate” squa ers (mafias)

Threat to housing ownership

Historical patterns (I). Public powers problems with informal housing

discourses and institutional practices of this process from a “long-durée” perspective (Fig. 13.2). These processes would not, of course, be exclusive to the city of Madrid, but a part of a territorial control pattern historically developed by the State (Foucault 2004). The emergence and development of urban planning was a global process, resulting in a problematisation of diverse forms of poor city growth in Madrid, and in most of the European capitals (Manzano Gómez 2018). This historical process of precarisation would have entailed different strategies and adaptative practices of popular housing in relation to the evolution of the normative frameworks. The process of territorial regulation produced different borders of illegality beyond which the populations with less economic resources would be concentrated. The different attempts to repress the reproduction of “chabolismo” or other similar phenomena would clash with the “urban ecology” of these poor populations in a capitalist real estate market. Leaving them without spaces to shelter, in the absence of social housing alternatives. To confront it, populations without resources would have adopted, in the past and today, different forms of subversion in order to solve their housing needs. The interdependencies, solidarity and collaboration between disadvantaged populations would have allowed strategies of silent “subaltern resistance” (Scott 1985), as well as powerful social movements

13 From “Chabolas” to Invisible Squats …

269

that shook the political and institutional order to which they were subjected. However, unlike “chabolismo”, “ocupaciones” do not represent any obstacle to the expansive interests of urban growth. In addition, being a markedly “invisible” phenomenon, it is not feeding a great conflict of moral order to force public powers to propose in-depth solutions to it (Fig. 13.3). A “long-durée” perspective of the phenomenon makes it possible to find some critical junctures in this evolution. It is particularly interesting that in Madrid in the 1980s, the combination of social mobilisation and the production of public alternatives to social housing allowed a reduction of precarious residential informality to levels never known before. However, it did not disappear. The residential informality of the low-income populations would evolve since then in a double sense: towards “chabolismo” with a clearly residual character, on the one hand, and, on the other, towards the invisible housing squats that are booming today. Although it is difficult to draw a general perspective for the whole Spain, the available research allows us to appreciate clear convergences between the squatting practices conducted in Madrid and Barcelona (Obra Social Barcelona 2018). The current judicial reinforcement on a national scale, without social housing alternatives for populations excluded from the private market, could give rise to a new cycle of interdependent institutional

Invisibilisa on

POPULAR STRATEGIES TO DEAL WITH ILLEGALITY

OCUPACIONES

Illegal urbanisa on in distant areas

Squa ng houses without external signs

Collabora ve construc on of houses and connexion to services

Collabora ve iden fica on of houses and connexion to services

Solidarity-based aggrega on of individuals and expansion of communi es

Solidarity-based aggrega on of individuals and expansion of communi es

Evolu on from the passive resistance of individuals to explicit collec ve demands to poli cally explicit

Evolu on from the passive resistance of individuals to explicit collec ve demands to poli cally explicit

Groupal collabora on

Empowerment

Fig. 13.3

CHABOLISMO

Historical patterns (II). Popular strategies to deal with illegality

270

N. A. Manzano Gómez and M. Castrillo Romón

practices and informal adaptations. Is the reproduction of the already described repression pattern “ad infinitum” a real solution?

References Aguilera, T. (2015). Gouverner les illégalismes urbains: Les politiques publiques face aux squats et aux bidonvilles dans les régions de Paris et de Madrid Thomas. Gouvernement et action publique. Institut d’études politiques de Paris. Bassols Coma, M. (1973). Génesis y evolución del derecho urbanístico español (1812–1956). Montecorvo. Bogado, D. (2011). Movimento Okupa: Resistência e autonomia na ocupação de imóveis nas áreas urbanas centrais. Universidade Federal Fluminense. Bouillon, F. (2007). Le squat, forme contemporaine de bidonville? In V. Laflamme, C. Levy-Vroelant, D. Robertson, & J. Smyth (Eds.), Le logement précaire en Europe. Paris: L’Harmattan. Bouillon, F. (2009). Les mondes du squat. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France. Burbano, A. (2015). La autoconstrucción de Madrid durante el Franquismo: El pozo del Tío Raimundo. Carabancheleando. (2017). Diccionario de las periferias: Métodos y saberes autónomos desde los barrios. Madrid: Traficantes de sueños. https://doi.org/ 10.1017/CBO9781107415324.004. Castells, M., Cherki, E., Godard, F., & Mehl, D. (1978). Crise du logement et mouvements sociaux urbains. Enquête sur la région parisienne. Paris: Éditions de l’École des hautes études en sciences sociales. Castrillo Romón, M. A. (2001). Reformismo, vivienda y ciudad: orígenes y desarrollo de un debate, España, 1850–1920. Valladolid: Universidad de Valladolid. Chiodelli, F., & Moroni, S. (2014). The Complex Nexus Between Informality and the Law: Reconsidering Unauthorised Settlements in Light of the Concept of Nomotropism. Geoforum, 15, 161–168. Chiodelli, F., & Tzfadia, E. (2016). The Multifaceted Relation Between Formal Institutions and the Production of Informal Urban Spaces: An Editorial Introduction. Geography Research Forum, 36, 1–14. Collier, R. B., & Collier, D. (1991). Shaping the Political Arena. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. de Castro, C. (1961). El Pozo del Tío Raimundo. Estudios Geográficos (84–85). Deleuze, G. (1990). Post-scriptum sur les societes de controle. Pourparlers, 240–247. de Lucio, R. L. de L. (1988). Génesis y remodelación de una parcela marginal madrileña: El Pozo del Tío Raimundo (Vallecas). Ciudad y Territorio, 2(76), 55–70.

13 From “Chabolas” to Invisible Squats …

271

Elsheshtawy, Y. (2011). The Informal Turn. Built Environment, 37 (1), 4–10. Engels, F. F. (2006). Contribución al problema de la vivienda. Madrid: Fundación de Estudios Socialistas Federico Engels. Foucault, M. (1979). Microfísica del poder (J. Varela & F. Álvarez-Uría, Eds.). Madrid: Las Ediciones de la Piqueta. Foucault, M. (2004). Securité, territoire, population. Cours au Collège de France 1977–1978. Paris: Seuil/Gallimard. Friend, A. (1980). The Post War Squatters. In Squatting: The Real Story. London: Bay Leaf Books. Hernandez Quero, C. (2017). La vida en los márgenes de la ciudad moderna. Espacio, negociación y conflicto en los suburbos de Madrid. La calle de Bravo Murillo (1880–1920). In La rue dans tous ses ètats. Mondes ibèriques XIX–XXI. Université Paris Nanterre. Paris. Heyman, J. M., & Smart, A. (1999, February). States and Illegal Practices: An Overview. States and Illegal Practices (pp. 1–23). Oxford: Berg Publishers. Maccaglia, F., & Morelle, M. (2013). Introduction. Pour une géographie du droit : un chantier urbain. Geocarrefour, 88(3), 163–172. Mahoney, J., & Thelen, K. A. (2010). Explaining Institutional Change: Ambiguity, Agency, and Power. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Manzano Gómez, N. A. (2015). Casas sin gente, gente sin casas: Financiarisation urbaine et appropriations d’immeubles dans la nouvelle périphérie madrilène. Université Paris 8. Manzano Gómez, N. A. (2018). La urbanización informal en Europa en el siglo XX: una historiografía. O Social Em Questão, XXI (42), 23–44. Martínez, M. (2013). The Squatters’ Movement in Spain. In SEK (Ed.), Squatting in Europe: Radical Spaces, Urban Struggles (p. 113). Wivenhoe, New York, and Port Watson: Minor Compositions. Martínez López, M. A., & García Bernardos, Á. (2014). Okupa madrid (1985— 2011): Memoria, reflexión, debate y autogestión colectiva del conocimiento. Matesanz, Á., & Belmessous, F. (2014). Bidonville vs. habitat contraint: les lieux madrilènes de l’(in)hospitalité. In Y. Maury (Ed.), Les coopératives d’habitants, des outils pour l’abondance. CHAIRE–COOP. Mcfarlane, C. (2008). Urban Shadows: Materiality, the ‘Southern City’ and Urban Theory. Geography Compass, 2(2), 340–358. Montes Mieza, J., Paredes Grosso, M., & Villlanueva Paredes, A. (1976). Los asentamientos chabolistas en Madrid. Ciudad Y Territorio. Nuñez Granés, P. (1910). Proyecto para la urbanización del Extrarradio. Madrid: Imprenta Municipal.

272

N. A. Manzano Gómez and M. Castrillo Romón

Obra Social Barcelona. (2018). ¡La vivienda para quien la habita! Informe sobre okupación de vivienda vacía en Catalunya. Barcelona: Obra Social Barcelona. Ofer, I. (2017). Claiming the City and Contesting the State: Squatting, Community Formation and Democratization in Spain (1955–1986). New York: Routledge. PAH. (2018). Nuevo pack de documentos útiles—“Kit Dictamen DESC” para paralización urgente de desalojos. Retrieved February 17, 2018, from http://afectadosporlahipoteca.com/2018/01/17/documentos-utiles-paraparalizacion-urgente-de-desalojos/. Prujit, H. (2013). Squatting in Europe. In SEK (Ed.), Squatting in Europe: Radical Spaces, Urban Struggles (pp. 17–60). Wivenhoe/New York/Port Watson: Minor Compositions. Scott, J. (1985). Weapons of the Weak: Ever day Forms of Peasant Resistance. Yale University. Sierra, J. (2018). El Madrid que Madrid no conoce, 1927–1934. Sorensen, A. (2015). Taking Path Dependence Seriously: An Historical Institutionalist Research Agenda in Planning History, 30 (1), 17–38. Valenzuela Rubio, M. (1975). La pervivencia del chabolismo en Madrid. Temas de Madrid–1. Valenzuela Rubio, M. (1981). Renovación urbana y movimientos vecinal en barriadas de infravivienda. Pamplona: La experiencia madrileña. Vorms, C. (2012). Batisseurs de banlieues. Paris: Créaphis. Vorms, C. (2013). Madrid années 1950: la question des baraques. Le Mouvement Social, 4 (245), 43–57.

14 Urban Scenes, Cultural Context Exposure and Contemporary Health Lifestyles: A Multilevel Analysis of Spanish Sub-municipal Areas Ángel Ramón Zapata-Moya, Cristina Mateos-Mora and Clemente J. Navarro-Yáñez

Introduction Understanding how health-related lifestyles are generated, distributed and reproduced is a priority issue with regard to planning interventions, with the ultimate goal of improving population health and reducing contemporary health inequalities (Cockerham et al. 1997; Frohlich and Abel 2014). The objective in this chapter is to integrate recent theoretical insights from health sociology and urban sociology in order to analyse contextual influences on the social distribution of healthy lifestyles in urban environments. A great deal of research is currently available on how the characteristics Á. R. Zapata-Moya (B) · C. Mateos-Mora · C. J. Navarro-Yáñez The Urban Governance Lab, Centro de Sociología y Políticas Locales, Universidad Pablo de Olavide, Seville, Spain e-mail: [email protected] C. Mateos-Mora e-mail: [email protected] C. J. Navarro-Yáñez e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2020 M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al. (eds.), Inequality and Uncertainty, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1_14

273

274

Á. R. Zapata-Moya et al.

of urban areas and neighbourhoods influence health and health inequality. However, studies based on the symbolic nature of place and its role in structuring health-related practices remain scarce. In order to advance this research agenda, we reveal and analyse the relationship between two recent perspectives. First, the cultural scenes perspective, proposed by Silver et al. (2010), which offers a new analytical framework to explore the cultural dimension of place in a comparative perspective, and its influence on lifestyles. Second, the health lifestyle theory proposed by Cockerham (2005), which highlights the continuous interplay between agency and structure. The main argument in the theory is that structural opportunities, influenced by material and social class circumstances (social stratification by age, gender and race/ethnicity; collective social relationships based on shared norms, ideals and social perspectives), provide the social context that shapes an individual’s capacity to be reflective on the course of their own actions, interpret their own situations and make deliberate, specific health choices. In this chapter, we focus on the relevance of conceptualising place as a cultural context and on its interconnection with contemporary health lifestyles. In this regard, we present the results of a multilevel, cross-sectional study, the main purpose of which is to explore whether the symbolic dimension of cultural consumption opportunities in urban space contributes to shaping the adoption of healthy lifestyles in Spain.

Place as a Cultural Context: Urban Cultural Scenes and Lifestyles In traditional sociology, place is understood as a relevant context to explain an individual’s structural life chances, because it establishes different opportunity structures for social interactions and the development of different lifestyles. Place matters with regard to social life, because it ‘is a space filled up by people, practices, objects, and representations’ that affect social attitudes and behaviours (Gieryn 2000: 465). Specifically, place promotes the production and reproduction of social practices, because actors are historically and spatially situated (Giddens 1993). Space is part of a social

14 Urban Scenes, Cultural Context Exposure …

275

structure where social interactions take place, at least because it contextualises these interactions (Giddens 1989). Social practices—as routinised types of behaviour incorporating knowledge, activities and intentions— vary between different social groups. However, they are developed according to a spatial-temporal rhythm because they occur and reoccur at places in a predictable way (Bourdieu 1990). Thus, each place implies unique meanings and values, promoting particular expressions and/or actions as being less or more acceptable (Giddens 1985), so different places can promote different types of social practices as the key elements of lifestyles. Generally, urban sociology has tried to analyse this relationship, proposing at least three broad explanations. First, place as a ‘physical context’. Size and density—as well as land use patterns, the existence of different public spaces or city walkability—can influence the opportunities for contacts, promoting or inhibiting different types of social interactions and practices. For instance, the seminal work of Wirth (1938) about the ‘urban way of life’ focuses on the effect of size and population density on social interactions. The well-known contributions of the ‘new urbanism school’ also state the importance of urban design for social life (Jacobs 1961; Talen 1999). Second, place as a ‘social or socio-economic context’. The social composition of places according to socio-demographics, income, ethnicity or other characteristics of residents implies the existence of different resources, capabilities and capitals (economic, social and cultural) that explain the existence of different social practices in different places. For instance, contradicting the thesis of ‘urbanism as a way of life’, Gans (1962) maintains that lifestyles depend on social groups living in a place, and on their relationships, more than the physical traits of place. From this point of view, social composition explains differences in lifestyles existing across urban places. Third, place as a ‘cultural context’. Regardless of physical traits and social composition, places can also be distinguished according to the individual exposure to different symbols and meanings existing in them as social practices. From this perspective, places can be understood as offering opportunities to develop different meaningful interactions, social practices and lifestyles (Gieryn 2000). Specifically, contemporary urban studies recognise differences among cities and their neighbourhoods—as places

276

Á. R. Zapata-Moya et al.

for cultural consumption—that promote different lifestyles according to the cultural amenities available (Zuckin 1995; Glaeser et al. 2001; Clark 2003). Furthermore, opportunities for cultural consumption transform places into different cultural scenes; as a set of amenities that encourage the development of different cultural practices around a set of values, as reasons and motives that justify them and as criteria for mutual recognition and identification. This relates to the way places are shared with others, or to the feeling of authenticity that is found in them (Silver et al. 2010). Thus, the cultural scenes perspective understands places as providing opportunities to express and share different lifestyles through cultural consumption practices, which could also have a contextual influence on individual lifestyles depending on the ‘exposure’ to the meanings of different cultural scenes (Navarro 2016). To examine the meanings of opportunities for cultural consumption, the scenes perspective maintains that cultural amenities should be analysed on the basis of three main dimensions and a total of 15 sub-dimensions (as the ‘grammar of cultural scenes’). The main dimensions are the reasons or motives to develop a practice (legitimacy), the ways of appearance—of seeing and being seen—(theatricality) and the feeling of mutual recognition (authenticity). The sub-dimensions stress different specific types of legitimacy (traditional, expressive, egalitarian and charismatic), theatricality (transgressive, neighbourly, formal, glamorous, and exhibitionist), and authenticity (local, ethnic, corporate, rational, and state) of cultural consumption practices that could be developed by different cultural amenities. Thus, each of the amenities existing in a place can be ‘read’ through these dimensions, and all of them will provide the specific profile and orientation of places according to the relevance of each sub-dimension, so that specific combinations of them constitute different types of cultural scenes.1 Previous empirical studies have shown that cultural scenescapes in different countries are structured according to a continuum between conventional (or communitarian) and unconventional (or innovative). The first stresses traditional and egalitarian values, as well as neighbourliness or localism, as criteria of authenticity. By comparison, innovative scenes 1 More

details about how to analyse cultural scenes can be found on the scenes’ website: http:// scenes.en-linea.eu/en/presentacion-ciudad-2.html.

14 Urban Scenes, Cultural Context Exposure …

277

involve more unconventional cultural practices linked to expressiveness or transgression.2 Regardless of other contextual traits, or the individual characteristics of residents, innovative scenes attract more creative and artistic occupations (Silver and Miller 2013; Mateos 2015), and promote local economic development (Navarro et al. 2012). More innovative scenes also promote more liberal political attitudes (Miller and Silver 2015), votes for new parties (Mateos 2018) and the diffusion of unconventional cultural practices (Navarro and Rodríguez-García 2014). These analyses illustrate the ‘contextual exposure effect’ proposed by the scenes perspective (Navarro 2016). This implies that exposure to different urban cultural scenes can promote different social practices among residents—regardless of their individual socio-economic position—through direct, as well as indirect contextual effects. The former implies that exposure to innovative (or unconventional) scenes can promote the adoption of cultural practices linked to them. The latter suggests that the impact of scenes is different for different social groups. Three possible effects can be proposed. First, a ‘reinforcing effect’: the cultural scene in a locality promotes practices that are more common among groups normally involved in this scene (for example, groups with high cultural capital in unconventional scenes). Second, a ‘refusal effect’: the nature of cultural scenes inhibits those who do not develop cultural practices related to them (for example, people with low cultural capital in unconventional scenes). Third, an ‘assimilation effect’: social interactions in the cultural context of scenes encourage certain groups to develop cultural practices that are less common to them (for example, those with less cultural capital develop ‘high culture practices’ in the context of innovative scenes) (Navarro and Rodríguez-García 2014). Thus, the cultural scenes perspective offers an analytical viewpoint and methodological approaches to explore ‘places as cultural contexts’ and their influence on lifestyles, as well as different contextual explanatory mechanisms to those proposed in previous perspectives centred on places as ‘physical’ or ‘socio-economic’ contexts. Alternatively,

2 For illustrative purposes: among cities and neighbourhoods in the United States (Silver et al. 2010),

in Canada (Silver and Miller 2013), in Spain (Navarro 2012; Mateos 2015) or in Poland (Klekotko 2014).

278

Á. R. Zapata-Moya et al.

according to the cultural scenes perspective, the cultural-symbolic dimension of place is important for the diffusion of different lifestyles, regardless of the physical characteristics and social composition of places.

Contemporary Health Lifestyles To explain their social pattern, contemporary health lifestyles have been conceptualised by focusing on their collective dimension, and the role of contexts and their cultural dimension. In this vein, health lifestyles can be understood in relation to class circumstances that operate on the basis of social recognition and distinction through the routinised practical logic of daily life, and ultimately these lifestyles influence tastes and body notions (Williams 1995). This conceptualisation of health lifestyles is in contrast to the health belief model, which has dominated the field of epidemiological studies on health-related behaviours. Through multiple replications of the belief model, researchers have attempted to elucidate the way in which individuals do or do not engage in multiple health behaviours simply in terms of their own logic, knowledge and health beliefs (Janz and Becker 1984; Strecher et al. 1997). Taking the seminal work of Max Weber, Economy and Society (1978), as a starting point, Cockerham et al. (1997) also conceptualise the idea of a contemporary health lifestyle as opposed to the traditional individualist perspective.Their arguments are inspired by three important contributions from Weber: first, that lifestyles are associated with status groups; second, that lifestyles reflect consumption patterns, not production; and third, that lifestyles are the result of a dialectical interplay between individual choices and structural life chances. According to Cockerham (2005), structural life chances are determined by material and social class circumstances: The degree of social stratification by age, gender and race/ethnicity; collective social relationships based on shared norms, ideals and social perspectives (such as religion, cultural identity or ideology); and other living conditions such as the quality of housing, neighbourhood amenities and access to basic utilities. Moreover, all these variables provide the social context for the socialisation process and influence people’s experiences throughout life. This, in turn, shapes their capacity to be reflective on the course of

14 Urban Scenes, Cultural Context Exposure …

279

their own actions, to interpret their own situations and to make deliberate, specific health-related choices (capacity of agency). The theory proposed by Cockerham, as already stated, specifically highlights the interplay between the set of life opportunities and choices. This interplay is illustrated by the individual basic disposition (habitus) to develop actions related to health (alcohol use, smoking, diet, exercise, engaging in preventive check-ups, etc.), which ultimately define specific health lifestyles. Therefore, contemporary health lifestyles are defined as ‘collective patterns of health-related behaviour based on choices from options available to people according to their life chances’ (Cockerham et al. 1997: 337–338). In a similar vein, Frohlich et al. (2001) highlight the collective dimension of health lifestyles. Health lifestyles are conceived as patterns and ways of living in specific social contexts. Accordingly, these researchers propose that health lifestyles must be analysed as aspects of social contexts observable through individuals’ practices. They also posit that lifestyles are (re)produced by a recursive mechanism operating across intersubjective community relationships, individuals’ access to facilities and resources, and—more relevantly—what people can do with these resources in their social contexts. Therefore, Frohlich and colleagues introduced Amartya Sen’s capability theory into the analysis of the relationship between individual health and context, in order to complement explanations based on the importance of access to primary goods or resources. This leads us to the relevant question of how individuals can translate these primary goods and resources (personal or contextual) into actions or practices that acquire their own meaning in relation to the social context in which they take place (Abel and Frohlich 2012). There is currently a great deal of research showing how the characteristics of urban areas and neighbourhoods influence health and health inequality. However, studies based on the symbolic nature of place and its role in structuring healthy practices are still scarce (Frohlich and Abel 2014). Focusing on the cultural dimension of urban place and taking into consideration the previous conceptualisation of lifestyles, in this chapter our interest is to explore whether the symbolic cultural dimension of places contributes to understanding the social distribution of healthy lifestyles in Spain. More specifically, whether unconventional cultural scenes promote the adoption of

280

Á. R. Zapata-Moya et al.

healthier practices beyond individual socio-economic characteristics and contextual vulnerability. Our specific hypotheses are: H1. Socio-economic inequalities: a higher socio-economic status is associated with a greater likelihood of adopting healthier lifestyles. H2. Contextual effect of scenes: innovative cultural scenes promote the adoption of healthier lifestyles regardless of social composition and individual socio-economic status. H3. Contextual exposure effect of scenes: innovative cultural scenes promote the reduction of socio-economic inequalities in the adoption of healthier lifestyles.

Methods We performed a cross-sectional multilevel study, using data from two waves of the Spanish National Health Survey (SNHS 2006, 2011). Both waves offer representative information about the Spanish adult population. Our analyses are limited to sampled Spanish cities with more than 20,000 inhabitants in order to focus on urban places.3 Our dependent variables are indicators combining information about a set of health-related practices4 and a Healthy Eating Index.5 The main independent variable ‘unconventional cultural scenes’ is a composite indicator based on the 3 Given

that we use occupational social class and the highest level of education reached in order to operationalise individual socio-economic status, our analyses are restricted to adults aged between 25 and 65. This means that we only address the group of the active population likely to have completed their studies at the time of the interview. 4To compute this, one point was given for each of the following five positive practices that an interviewee stated he or she was involved in: intense physical activity two or more times a week, moderate physical activity three or more times a week, healthy diet, dental check-up in the last twelve months and tooth brushing at least three times a day. Similarly, one point was subtracted for each of the five negative indicators considered, which reflect unhealthy practices: daily soft drink consumption, daily consumption of sweets, smoking, being overweight and being obese. Our Healthy Practices indicator accordingly ranges from −5 to 5 points (¯x =−0.38; σ = 1.60), with higher scores indicating healthier practices. 5This is based on the ‘frequency of food’ questionnaire included in the SNHS and in line with the criteria proposed by Norte Navarro and Ortiz Moncada (2011). This index ranges from 0 to 100 (¯x =70.35; σ = 11.17), with higher values indicating a healthier dietary pattern.

14 Urban Scenes, Cultural Context Exposure …

281

sum of the most innovative dimensions of opportunities for cultural consumption6 (expressive, charismatic, transgressive and glamorous). This is based on the results of an exploratory factorial analysis used in other studies (Navarro 2012; Navarro et al. 2012; Navarro and Rodríguez-García 2014). This indicator has been validated in Spain for different territorial scales (Mateos 2015) and shows the degree to which each sub-municipal area analysed promotes opportunities for unconventional cultural consumption. The unconventional cultural scene indicator ranges between 2.33 and 3.52 (¯x =2.9 and σ = 0.15), with higher values indicating greater opportunities for unconventional cultural consumption. In addition, individual socio-economic status (SES) is operationalised as a combination of educational level and social class based on occupation.7 After excluding accumulated missing cases, the final sample includes 19,015 individuals for the analyses of health-related practices, and 20,004 for the Healthy Eating Index, all of them nested in 2397 census tracts. For each dependent variable, linear multilevel models were computed using the Restricted Iterative Generalized Least Squares (RIGLS) method included in the MLwiN 2.32 software package. First, we computed a null model to explore the distribution of variance at the census tract and the individual level. Second, we included all the individual variables in an initial model to explore the influence of SES, controlling for all the other independent variables.8 Third, to examine whether innovative cultural 6This is based on the following methodological process: the existing amenities in a given urban area are coded in line with how they fit each sub-dimension on a five-point scale, where 1 means that the sub-dimension completely opposes the essence of the cultural practice that promotes the amenity, 5 indicates that the sub-dimension is fundamental to capturing the meaning of such a cultural practice and 3 denotes neutrality in relation to the sub-dimension assessed. Hence, each amenity is coded based on 15 indices and an intensity indicator is obtained for each sub-dimension, which is the result of the weighting of the existing amenities in the territory by the score in each sub-dimension. Lastly, in order to capture the cultural specialisation of a specific urban area, a performance indicator is computed by dividing the intensity indicator by the total number of amenities in each territory. 7 In order to avoid problems of multicollinearity due to the inclusion of both educational level and social class in the statistical models, we decided to use a composite indicator of SES. To this end, we performed a principal component analysis including educational level and social class. This analysis yielded one extracted factor, which explains approximately 74% of the variance. The integrated metric indicator ranges between −1.43 and 2.18, with higher scores indicating higher SES. Therefore, SES is a standardised variable with x¯ =0 and σ = 1. 8 In our analysis, we account for age (ranging from 25 to 65 years), gender (female or male), work status (retired, student, homemaker or others), marital status (married, separated or divorced, single, or widowed) and survey period (2006 or 2011). In addition, at the census tract level we control

282

Á. R. Zapata-Moya et al.

consumption opportunities and vulnerability influence the likelihood of adopting healthy practices, we computed models including contextual information at the census tract level; that is, the unconventional cultural scenes indicator and the ISVUN-SE. Lastly, we computed multilevel models including an interaction term between the unconventional cultural scenes indicator and individual SES to explore whether the influence of individual SES on the adoption of healthy lifestyles is conditional on the contextual opportunities for unconventional cultural consumption.

Results and Discussion The primary aim of this study was to elaborate on theoretical insights from the urban scenes approach, as a way to conceptualise the symbolic cultural dimension of urban places and the theory proposed by William Cockerham (2005). These both stress the continuous interplay between agency and structural forces to explain the social patterning of contemporary healthy lifestyles. In line with the consensus in previous empirical studies, our results document a relevant influence of individual socio-economic status on the adoption of healthy lifestyles, independent of other individual and contextual variables (see Table 14.1). Specifically, people with a higher socio-economic status are more likely to adopt healthy practices (β = 0.36; p ≤ 0.001) and a healthier eating pattern (β = 1.05; p ≤ 0.001). This finding supports our first hypothesis and is in line with the argument that socio-economic conditions must be considered as fundamental causes of health inequalities (Phelan et al. 2010). Accordingly, health inequalities are continually reshaped by social forces, as we develop more control over disease and death. Health inequalities are rooted in the pre-existing social stratification, which produces a specific distribution of resources (knowledge, money, power, prestige, and beneficial social connections) among for socio-economic vulnerability as measured by the Urban Vulnerability Index—Socio-economic Criteria (ISVUN-SE) (Ministerio de Fomento 2015). The ISVUN-SE classifies each census tract at the national level using socio-economic information from 2001 (percentage of the population unemployed, percentage of the youth population unemployed, percentage of temporary workers, percentage of unskilled workers and percentage of the population without a formal education). This index ranges between 0 and 1, from less to more urban vulnerability (¯x =0.57; σ = 0.16).

14 Urban Scenes, Cultural Context Exposure …

283

Table 14.1 Direct influence of innovative cultural scenes on the adoption of healthy lifestyles

Intercept Socio-economic status (SES) ISVUN-SE Urban size (ref. 20,000–50,000 inhabitants) > 500,000 inhabitants > 100,000 inhabitants 50,000–100,000 inhabitants Unconventional Scene ICC Census tracts (%) Individual (%) −2*loglikelihood: Diff. −2*loglikelihood N Census tracts N Individuals

Healthy Practices indicator

Healthy Eating Index

β

Sig.

β

Sig.

−0.96 0.36 −0.70

*** *** ***

70.35 1.05 −2.68

*** *** *** *** *** *

*

−1.54 −0.77 −0.66 0.40

−0.09 0.05 −0.06 0.24 10.2 89.8 75228.778 2107.181 2397 19015

***

8.9 91.1 149122.297 3892.8 *** 2397 20004

***p < 0.001; **p < 0.01; *p < 0.05 Multilevel model controlled by age, gender, marital status, working status and survey period ICC = intraclass correlation coefficient indicating the percentage of variance remained unexplained at census tract and individual level Diff. −2*loglikelihood = differences from the model not including contextual information

social groups; thus those with greater access to flexible resources gain more benefits (and earlier) from new health-enhancing capabilities than those with fewer flexible resources. These arguments are based on the importance of the intentional use of individual flexible resources but are not able to completely account for how the actual benefits of these resources may vary according to different social contexts (Masters et al. 2015: 26–27). In this vein, if we examine the results of our null models (see Annex 14.1 “Healthy Practices” and Annex 14.2 “Healthy Eating”) the intraclass correlation coefficients indicate that approximately 13.9 and 9.7% of the variance of respectively engaging in healthy practices and having a healthy dietary pattern can be attributed to the level of the census area. This stresses the relevance of considering contextual factors in order to fully understand the social structuring of contemporary healthy lifestyles.

284

Á. R. Zapata-Moya et al.

With regard to the contextual influence of urban vulnerability on shaping health lifestyles, the results indicate that irrespective of individual characteristics, living in a vulnerable urban area according to socio-economic criteria seems to considerably limit the likelihood of adopting healthy lifestyles. This is demonstrated for both our Healthy Practices indicator (β = −0.70; p ≤ 0.001) and Healthy Eating Index (β = −2.72; p ≤ 0.001). In addition, a larger urban size seems to be negatively associated with the adoption of a healthy eating pattern. For example, people living in cities with more than 500,000 inhabitants have lower scores on the healthy eating index than those living in cities with 20,000–50,000 inhabitants (β = −1.54; p ≤ 0.001). Turning to our second hypothesis regarding the positive association between the spread of healthy lifestyles and urban areas characterised by more innovative cultural consumption, the results for the Healthy Practices indicator (β = 0.24; p ≤ 0.05) confirm a positive association. However, although the trend is also positive in the case of the Healthy Eating Index, the association here is not statistically significant (β = 0.40; p ≥ 0.05). We can therefore only partially confirm the direct influence of unconventional cultural scenes on the diffusion of healthy lifestyles for the whole population living in this type of urban space. To a degree, this supports the assumption that the symbolic dimension of cultural practices that are promoted in sub-municipal urban areas can shape contemporary healthy lifestyles. Specifically, people living in areas characterised by ‘innovative cultural scenes’ are more likely to engage in healthy practices independent of their individual socio-economic status, urban vulnerability, the urban size and other individual characteristics In Table 14.2, we present the results of our analysis of whether the differences among socio-economic groups in the adoption of healthy lifestyles are conditional on the symbolic cultural dimension of the context where these groups live (our third hypothesis). In order to test this, a cross-level interaction term between the individual SES indicator and the unconventional cultural scene indicator was added to the models. As can be noted, the results indicate that the positive influence of SES on the adoption of healthy practices and healthy dietary pattern is reduced in urban areas characterised by unconventional cultural scenes (β = −0.020; p < 0.05 & β = −0.97; p < 0.05, respectively). This suggests that inequalities in

285

14 Urban Scenes, Cultural Context Exposure …

Table 14.2 Unconventional cultural scenes and conditional influence of SES on shaping healthy lifestyles Healthy Practices indicator Intercept Socio-economic status (SES) ISVUN-SE Urban size (ref. 20,000–50,000 inhabitants) > 500,000 inhabitants > 100,000 inhabitants 50,000–100,000 inhabitants Unconventional Scene Unconventional Scene*SES ICC Census tracts (%) Individual (%) −2*loglikelihood: Diff. −2*loglikelihood N Census tracts N Individuals

Healthy Eating Index

β

Sig.

β

Sig.

−0.96 0.36 −0.70

*** *** ***

70.35 1.05 −2.72

*** *** *** *** *** *

** *

−1.53 −0.77 −0.65 0.44 −0.97

−0.09 0.05 −0.05 0.25 −0.20

10.1 89.9 75221.09 7.688 ** 2397 19015

*

8.9 91.1 149118.314 3.983 * 2397 20004

***p < 0.001; **p < 0.01; *p < 0.05 Multilevel model controlled by age, gender, marital status, working status and survey period ICC = intraclass correlation coefficient indicating the percentage of variance remained unexplained at census tract and individual level Diff. −2*loglikelihood = differences from the model not including an interaction term

the configuration of healthy lifestyles seem to be reduced in urban places that promote innovative opportunities for cultural consumption. The results presented in Table 14.2 are accompanied by Figs. 14.1 and 14.2, in which the predicted probabilities according to the model with the cross-level interaction term have been plotted. Both figures show that the influence of SES is conditional on the innovativeness of the cultural scene, which means that people with lower or medium level of SES living in urban areas offering greater innovative opportunities for cultural consumption are more likely to engage in healthy practices than those exposed to fewer such opportunities. Although the inequality in the adoption of practices related to healthy lifestyles also remains in those cultural scenes, looking

286

Á. R. Zapata-Moya et al.

Fig. 14.1 Conditional effect of SES on the Healthy Practices indicator according to the unconventional cultural scene

Fig. 14.2 Conditional effect of SES on the Healthy Eating Index according to the unconventional cultural scene

at the right-hand side of the graph, it can be seen that this inequality is moderately reduced in both the Healthy Practices indicator and the Healthy Eating Index. It is widely documented that the influence of socioeconomic status on the adoption of healthy practices is closely linked to

14 Urban Scenes, Cultural Context Exposure …

287

the social reproduction of contemporary health inequalities (Lynch et al. 1997; House 2002; Phelan et al. 2010). However, our findings add that the influence of SES on the adoption of healthy lifestyles seems to be conditional on the symbolic cultural dimension of the urban place, with the influence being less pronounced in urban areas characterised by more innovative cultural scenes. In other words, innovative cultural scenes seem to reduce socio-economic inequality in the adoption of healthy lifestyles in Spain. Therefore, the ‘nature’ and specialisation of cultural consumption opportunities as a different way of characterising urban places must be considered in greater detail to understand how health inequality arises and is socially reproduced. Our findings can be interpreted in relation to the contributions of the intersections between the diffusion of innovation theory and the fundamental cause theory. The diffusion of innovation theory summarises the process by which new health-related practices spread over time within a given social system through personal contacts, social networks and contextual influences (Rogers 2003). Early adopters generally differ from later adopters in terms of their personal characteristics, and the former tend to have a higher socio-economic status. As a consequence of these disparities among adopters, systematic health inequalities can emerge if different social strata vary in the pace at which they adopt new practices (Elstad 2013). This situation entails several intersections with fundamental cause theory, particularly with regard to the basic assumption that the access to and the use of flexible resources linked to socio-economic status can generate systematic differences in the adoption of healthy lifestyles. Accordingly, people with higher socio-economic status are likely to take advantage of new health-enhancing opportunities as they emerge and begin to be socially diffused. This highlights the fact that health-related practices spread from high-status to low-status positions in a social-hierarchical process (Lindbladh et al. 1997). It has been documented that health inequality is moderated by social contexts with a higher propensity for faster diffusion (Wang et al. 2012). In light of our empirical findings, we suggest that this hypothesis should extend beyond practices linked exclusively to the field of healthcare systems, and we postulate that a greater contextual propensity for innovative cultural consumption may be related to greater

288

Á. R. Zapata-Moya et al.

permeability to social changes that contribute to socially structuring individual health-related preferences (Freese and Lutfey 2011). In a context where the pursuit of health has become a highly valued activity in contemporary life (Crawford 2006), and discursive and political frameworks centred on the assumption of individuals’ responsibility for health as part of their personal life project are promoted (Rose 2009), unconventional cultural scenes may be examples of social contexts more open to these trends. In these trends, the symbolic power of ‘the innovation’ may facilitate the faster emergence of certain practices close to the ideal of healthy lifestyles. In this way, the collective expression of these practices could contribute to the shaping of individual health-related preferences, causing an ‘assimilation effect’ on the practices of those people with lower socioeconomic status in line with innovative social currents; in this case, the adoption of healthier lifestyles.

Conclusion As urban studies recognise, culture plays an instrumental role in urban economic innovation and has been considered as an instrument to promote the economic activity of a city (through innovation, creativity, the attraction of tourism, etc.). Previous studies have shown that innovative scenarios promote the dissemination of valuable economic knowledge to promote economic development. In other words, more opportunities for cultural consumption and more innovation mean a ‘premium scenario’ for cities in terms of economic development (Glaeser et al. 2001; Navarro et al. 2012). However, culture can also play a ‘planning’ role in terms of urban well-being, promoting change and disseminating cultural practices among citizens and across urban areas (Navarro and Clark 2012). In addition, our results suggest that urban research should also be concerned with investigating the effects of cultural consumption opportunities on well-being and health. Health is recognised as a crucial component of well-being, with social and spatial inequalities being one of the main determinants of well-being in cities. Our analysis has attempted to show the role of the symbolic dimension of cultural consumption opportunities on the social distribution of healthy practices. The main findings suggest that there is

14 Urban Scenes, Cultural Context Exposure …

289

an ‘assimilation effect’, since, in innovative cultural contexts, people with lower socio-economic status are more likely to adopt such practices. The current work adds to the research agenda concerning cities and the role of culture in the dissemination of other knowledge, meanings and practices that could help to improve the quality of urban life, as well as its potential benefits in relation to social inequality in health. In other words, in addition to urban economic development, ‘premium scenes’ also seem to be closely linked to increased well-being in urban space. From the perspective of policymakers and others involved in the implementation of urban policies, our main findings indicate that urban policies must pay attention to the influence of cultural settings. For example, although urban regeneration policies have conceived culture as being a resource to promote economic development, our results suggest that these policies could also improve the well-being of the population, depending on the type of cultural environment they promote. New opportunities for cultural consumption may attract economic activities and visitors, but by promoting social change, they can also contribute to the diffusion of different lifestyles, which may ultimately help to shape an equitable distribution of health in the urban space. Therefore, the design of urban policies needs to pay attention to the cultural scenarios that will be promoted, in order to anticipate their potential effects on urban inequalities and well-being.

Fixed part Intercept Age Women (ref. men) Civil status (ref. married) Single Widower Separate Divorced Working status (ref. employed) Unemployed Retired Student Housework Others Survey period 2011 (ref. 2006) SES ISVUN-SE

−0.369*** (0,017)

(0,027) (0,001) (0,029)

(0,035) (0,081) (0,070) (0,067)

(0,044) (0,054) (0,126) (0,048) (0,166) (0,030) (0,014)

0.105** 0.048 −0.120+ −0.079

−0.112* −0.002 0.359** −0.104* 0.129 0.537*** 0.386***

Std. Err.

−0.950*** 0.003** 0.604***

Coef.

Coef.

Std. Err.

Model 1

Null Model

Annex 14.1. Healthy Practices

0.362*** −0.697***

−0.123** −0.010 0.372** −0.097* 0.073 0.532***

0.109** −0.006 −0.110 −0.052

−0.957*** 0.002* 0.623***

Coef.

Model 2

(0,015) (0,100)

(0,045) (0,054) (0,124) (0,048) (0,166) (0,031)

(0,035) (0,080) (0,070) (0,068)

(0,037) (0,001) (0,029)

Std. Err.

0.362*** −0.702***

−0.123** −0.008 0.373** −0.097* 0.075 0.533***

0.109** −0.006 −0.107 −0.052

−0.959*** 0.002* 0.624***

Coef.

Model 3

(continued)

(0,015) (0,100)

(0,045) (0,054) (0,124) (0,048) (0,167) (0,031)

(0,035) (0,080) (0,070) (0,068)

(0,037) (0,001) (0,029)

Std. Err.

290 Á. R. Zapata-Moya et al.

ICC Census tracts (%) Individual (%) −2*loglikelihood: Coefficients Df Diff. −2*loglikelihood

Random part Census tracts Individual

Urban size (ref. 20–50 thousand inhabitants) > 500 thousand inhabitants > 100 thousand inhabitants 50–100 thousand inhabitants Unconventional scene Unconventional scene*SES

(continued)

13.9 86.1 81395.86 3

0.366 2.267

(0,022) (0,043) 10.4 89.6 77335.959 16 13 2464.833***

0.238 2.047

Coef.

Coef.

Std. Err.

Model 1

Null Model

(0,017) (0,040)

Std. Err.

(0,048) (0,098)

−0.055 0.241*

10.2 89.8 75228.778 21 5 2107.181***

(0,017) (0,041)

(0,038)

0.048

0.232 2.046

(0,048)

Std. Err.

−0.088+

Coef.

Model 2

10.1 89.9 75221.09 22 1 7.688**

0.231 2.045

0.253** −0.204*

−0.052

0.049

−0.085+

Coef.

Model 3

(0,017) (0,041)

(0,098) (0,093)

(0,048)

(0,038)

(0,048)

Std. Err.

14 Urban Scenes, Cultural Context Exposure …

291

Fixed part Intercept Age Women (ref. men) Civil status (ref. married) Single Widower Separate Divorced Working status (ref. employed) Unemployed Retired Student Housework Others Survey period 2011 (ref. 2006) SES ISVUN-SE

71.342***

(0,100)

(0,160) (0,008) (0,148)

(0,183) (0,403) (0,383) (0,333)

(0,237) (0,277) (0,805) (0,238) (0,966) (0,196) (0,072)

−1.417*** -0.991* −2.230*** −1.844***

−0.100 −0.034 1.931* 0.137 0.299 0.465* 1.112***

Std. Err.

69.686*** 0.298*** 3.501***

Coef.

Coef.

Std. Err.

Model 1

Null Model

Annex 14.2. Healthy Eating

1.045*** −2.683***

−0.192 −0.013 1.970* 0.107 0.621 0.502*

−1.399*** −1.046** −2.221*** −1.798***

70.352*** 0.294*** 3.543***

Coef.

Model 2

(0,076) (0,617)

(0,244) (0,278) (0,766) (0,237) (0,941) (0,201)

(0,187) (0,401) (0,382) (0,346)

(0,225) (0,008) (0,150)

Std. Err.

1.046*** −2.715***

−0.191 −0.009 1.977** 0.103 0.632 0.506*

−1.403*** −1.045** −2.215*** −1.798***

70.349*** 0.294*** 3.547***

Coef.

Model 3

(continued)

(0,076) (0,617)

(0,243) (0,279) (0,766) (0,237) (0,940) (0,201)

(0,186) (0,401) (0,382) (0,346)

(0,225) (0,008) (0,150)

Std. Err.

292 Á. R. Zapata-Moya et al.

ICC Census tracts (%) Individual (%) −2*loglikelihood: Coefficients Df Diff. −2*loglikelihood

Random part Census tracts Individual

Urban size (ref. 20–50 thousand inhabitants) > 500 thousand inhabitants > 100 thousand inhabitants 50–100 thousand inhabitants Unconventional scene Unconventional scene*SES

(continued)

9.7 90.3 159505.768 3

11.600 108.000

(0,830) (1,379) 9.2 90.8 153015.097 16 13 3337.317***

9.536 93.817

Coef.

Coef.

Std. Err.

Model 1

Null Model

(0,746) (1,222)

Std. Err.

(0,319) (0,622)

−0.663* 0.396

8.9 91.1 149122.297 21 5 3892.8***

(0,748) (1,243)

(0,233)

−0.767***

9.194 94.358

(0,308)

Std. Err.

−1.540***

Coef.

Model 2

8.9 91.1 149118.314 22 1 3.983*

9.190 94.340

0.436 −0.968*

−0.652*

−0.767***

−1.527***

Coef.

Model 3

(0,748) (1,243)

(0,619) (0,461)

(0,319)

(0,233)

(0,308)

Std. Err.

14 Urban Scenes, Cultural Context Exposure …

293

294

Á. R. Zapata-Moya et al.

References Abel, T., & Frohlich, K. L. (2012). Capitals and Capabilities: Linking Structure and Agency to Reduce Health Inequalities. Social Science and Medicine, 74 (2), 236–244. Bourdieu, P. (1990). The Logic of Practice. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Clark, T. N. (2003). Urban Amenities: Lakes, Opera and Juice Bars: Do They Drive Development? In T. N. Clark (Ed.), The City as an Entertainment Machine: Research in Urban Policy (Vol. 9, pp. 103–140). Oxford: Elsevier. Cockerham, W. C. (2005). Health Lifestyle Theory and the Convergence of Agency and Structure. Journal of Health and Social Behavior, 46 (1), 51–67. Cockerham, W. C., Rütten, A., & Abel, T. (1997). Conceptualizing Contemporary Health Lifestyles. The Sociological Quarterly, 38(2), 321–342. Crawford, R. (2006). Health as a Meaningful Social Practice. Health, 10 (4), 401–420. Elstad, J. I. (2013). The Hierarchical Diffusion Model and the Changing Patterns in Health-Related Habits in Norway Since the 1970s. In Research Review of Social Inequalities in Health in Norway. NOVA, Høgskolen i Oslo og Akershus. Freese, J., & Lutfey, K. (2011). Fundamental Causality: Challenges of an Animating Concept for Medical Sociology. Handbook of the Sociology of Health, Illness, and Healing (pp. 67–81). New York: Springer. Frohlich, K. L., & Abel, T. (2014). Environmental Justice and Health Practices: Understanding How Health Inequities Arise at the Local Level. Sociology of Health & Illness, 36 (2), 199–212. Frohlich, K. L., Corin, E., & Potvin, L. (2001). A Theoretical Proposal for the Relationship Between Context and Disease. Sociology of health & illness, 23(6), 776–797. Gans, H. J. (1962). The Urban Villagers. New York: Free Press. Giddens, A. (1985). Time, Space and Regionalization. In D. Gregory & J. Urry (Eds.), Social Relations and Spatial Structures (pp. 265–295). London: Macmillan. Giddens, A. (1989). A Reply to My Critics. In D. Held & J. Thompson (Eds.), Social Theory of Modern Societies: Anthony Giddens and His Critics (pp. 249–302). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Giddens, A. (1993). New Rules of Sociological Method. Stanford: Stanford University Press.

14 Urban Scenes, Cultural Context Exposure …

295

Gieryn, Th F. (2000). A Space for Place in Sociology. Annual Review of Sociology, 26, 463–496. Glaeser, E., Kolko, J., & Saiz, A. (2001). Consumer City. Journal of Economic Geography, 1, 27–50. House, J. S. (2002). Understanding Social Factors and Inequalities in Health: 20th Century Progress and 21st Century Prospects. Journal of Health and Social Behavior, 43, 125–142. Jacobs, J. (1961). The Death and Life of Great American Cities. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books. Janz, N. K., & Becker, M. H. (1984). The Health Belief Model: A Decade Later. Health Education Quarterly, 11(1), 1–47. Klekotko, M. (2014). Miasta bez charakteru? Polskie miasta w perspektywie “teorii scen”. Przegl˛ad Socjologiczny, 63(1), 171–196. Lindbladh, E., Lyttkens, C. H., Hanson, B. S., & Östergren, P. O. (1997). The Diffusion Model and the Social-Hierarchical Process of Change. Health Promotion International, 12(4), 323–330. Lynch, J. W., Kaplan, G. A., & Salonen, J. T. (1997). Why Do Poor People Behave Poorly? Variation in Adult Health Behaviours and Psychosocial Characteristics by Stages of the Socioeconomic Lifecourse. Social Science and Medicine, 44 (6), 809–819. Masters, R. K., Link, B. G., & Phelan, J. C. (2015). Trends in Education Gradients of ‘Preventable’ Mortality: A Test of Fundamental Cause Theory. Social Science and Medicine, 127, 19–28. Mateos, C. (2015). Escenas culturales: una aplicación al análisis de las ocupaciones creativas y las desigualdades territoriales en España (Doctoral thesis). Universidad Pablo de Olavide, España. Mateos, C. (2018). The Effect of Cultural Aspects on Electoral Behaviour. Toronto, ON: XIX ISA World Congress of Sociology. Miller, D. L., & Silver, D. (2015). Cultural Scenes and Contextual Effects on Political Attitudes. European Journal of Cultural and Political Sociology, 2(3–4), 241–266. Ministerio de Fomento, Gobierno de España (2015). Atlas de la Vulnerabilidad Urbana en España. Metodología, contenidos y créditos. http://cort.as/-A4Rz. Accessed 10 September 2018. Navarro, C. J. (2012). Las dimensiones culturales de la ciudad. Madrid: La Catarata. Navarro, C. J. (2016). Types and Dynamics of Scenes Growth. Some Explorations on the Role of Cultural Context in Urban Change. International Conference on Building Arts Scenes for Cultural Placemaking. The Neubauer Collegium for Culture and Society, The University of Chicago.

296

Á. R. Zapata-Moya et al.

Navarro, C. J., & Clark, T. N. (2012). Cultural policy in European Cities. European Societies, 14 (5), 636–659. Navarro, C. J., & Rodríguez-García, M. J. (2014). The Contextual Effect of Local Scenes on Cultural Practices. In T. N. Clark (Ed.), Can Tocqueville Karaoke? (pp. 251–268). Emerald: Bingley, UK. Navarro, C. J., Mateos, C., & Rodríguez, M. J. (2012). Cultural Scenes, the Creative Class and Development in Spanish Municipalities. European Urban and Regional Studies, 21(3), 301–317. Norte Navarro, A. I., & Ortiz Moncada, R. (2011). Calidad de la dieta española según el índice de alimentación saludable. Nutrición Hospitalaria, 26 (2), 330–336. Phelan, J. C., Link, B. G., & Tehranifar, P. (2010). Social Conditions as Fundamental Causes of Health Inequalities: Theory, Evidence, and Policy Implications. Journal of Health and Social Behavior, 51(suppl. 1), S28–S40. Rogers, E. (2003). The Diffusion of Innovations (5th ed.). New York: The Free Press. Rose, N. (2009). The Politics of Life Itself: Biomedicine, Power, and Subjectivity in the Twenty-First Century. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Silver, D., & Miller, D. L. (2013). Contextualizing the Artistic Dividend. Journal of Urban Affairs, 35 (5), 591–606. Silver, D., Clark, T. N., & Navarro, C. J. (2010). Scenes: Social Context in an Age of Contingency. Social Forces, 88(5), 2293–2324. Strecher, V. J., Champion, V. L., Rosenstock, I. M., & Gochman, D. S. (1997). Handbook of Health Behavior Research (I): Personal and Social Determinants (pp. 71–91). New York: Plenum Press. Talen, E. (1999). Sense of Community and Neighbourhood Form: An Assessment of the Social Doctrine of New Urbanism. Urban studies, 36 (8), 1361–1379. Wang, A., Clouston, S. A., Rubin, M. S., Colen, C. G., & Link, B. G. (2012). Fundamental Causes of Colorectal Cancer Mortality: The Implications of Informational Diffusion. The Milbank Quarterly, 90 (3), 592–618. Weber, M. (1978 [1922]). Economy and Society (G. Roth & C. Wittich, Eds.). Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Williams, S. J. (1995). Theorising Class, Health and Lifestyles: Can Bourdieu Help Us? Sociology of Health & Illness, 17 (5), 577–604. Wirth, L. (1938). Urbanism as a Way of Life. American Journal of Sociology, 44 (1), 1–24. Zuckin, S. (1995). The Culture of Cities. Oxford: Blackwell.

Part V Environmental Turn in Urban Politics

15 Urban Climate Governance in the Amazon Fronika de Wit

Introduction The Earth System is facing boundaries to high anthropogenic pressures and, to create a safe operating space on Earth, the Planetary Boundary (PB) Framework has estimated nine global boundaries1 (Rockstrom et al. 2009). Although this framework, provides us with a “planetary playing field”, Raworth (2012) points to its missing “social dimension”: It describes a safe, but not necessarily a just operating space. With the adoption of the UN Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) in 2015, Steffen et al. (2015) updated the PB Framework and placed it into the social context of the SDGs but did not provide pathways for just development inside 1The

nine planetary boundaries are: Stratospheric ozone depletion; Loss of biosphere integrity; Chemical pollution; Climate Change; Ocean acidification and the release of novel entities; Freshwater consumption and the global hydrological cycle; Land system change; Nitrogen and phosphorus flows to the biosphere and oceans; and Atmospheric aerosol loading.

F. de Wit (B) Institute of Social Sciences, University of Lisbon, Lisbon, Portugal © The Author(s) 2020 M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al. (eds.), Inequality and Uncertainty, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1_15

299

300

F. de Wit

the boundaries. Related to the planetary boundaries are tipping elements: subsystems of the Earth system that can be switched into a different state by small perturbations (Lenton et al. 2008). The Amazon is a tipping element: a combination of global warming and local land use change threaten its future and might turn the tropical forest into dry savannah (Nobre et al. 2016). Because of their potentially large impacts on the ecosystem and human well-being, planetary boundaries and their tipping points are of concern for policymaking and require a restructuring of governance arrangements to increase the resilience of socio-ecological systems (Folke et al. 2010). Responding to climate change requires actions at multiple scales and the exploration of new governance mechanisms to deal with increased complexity and uncertainty (Biermann et al. 2010). Ostrom (2010b) points to the importance of polycentric governance, facilitating benefits at multiple scales and highlights the role of local efforts to help solve climate change problems. She highlights the failure of international and top-down climate governance and stresses the need for a more bottom-up, inclusive climate governance with polycentric patterns and shared responsibility. Polycentric systems “have multiple governing authorities at different scales rather than a monocentric unit. Each unit… exercises considerable independence to make norms and rules within a specific domain” (Ostrom 2010a). Continuing Ostrom’s work on polycentric climate governance, Jordan et al. (2018) devote attention to the important role of cities in polycentric climate governance and make three statements on local climate governance: (1) cities often set higher climate governance ambitions than the nation-states they are in; (2) cities are increasingly becoming sites and actors of experimentation with innovative governance instruments, including eco-financing and ‘urban laboratories’ (see Nevens et al. 2013); and (3) cities have begun to break out of traditional top-down, nationalregional-local hierarchies and act in trans-local networks (see van der Heijden 2016). However, urban climate governance is a nascent policy field and there is a need for more comparative research on local climate adaptation (Vogel and Henstra 2015). Bulkeley (2010) reviews cities and the governing of climate change and highlights two gaps. Firstly, most of the literature on cities and climate governance focusses on cities from the Global North. However, the challenges

15 Urban Climate Governance in the Amazon

301

posed by climate change for cities in the Global South have been identified as more acute (Anguelovski et al. 2014). Secondly, the literature on urban climate governance lacks a more holistic perspective of urban governance. Bulkeley (2010) points to the fact that most studies on climate change and the city look, use an environmental management perspective. However, climate change is a complex problem that needs the involvement of urban governance. Especially in cities in the Global South, political tradeoffs between economic development and environment priorities make for a completely different context compared to Northern cities (Chu et al. 2017). Broto (2017) states that the main contribution of combining the debates about climate change and urban governance has been the idea that a city should not only be low-carbon, but also a just one. Both research on global climate governance and the Amazon (see Nepstad et al. 2008, 2009; Davidson et al. 2012; Nolte et al. 2013; Arima et al. 2014) and urban climate governance (see Nevens et al. 2013; Bulkeley et al. 2014; Aylett 2015; Bulkeley and Betsill 2016) has been rapidly expanding. Nevertheless, Amazonian cities are ‘the elephant in the room’ when it comes to urban climate governance and have received very little attention (Brondizio 2016). This chapter adds to the growing body of literature on climate governance and cities in the Global South, by examining Amazonian cities. The objective of this chapter is to apply the literature on urban climate governance to the Amazon and describe its characteristics and context. Firstly, we interpret data on urban development in the Brazilian and Peruvian Amazon. Secondly, we zoom in on one Peruvian and one Brazilian Amazon city and analyse their climate policy content, paying special attention to how they frame the climate change problem. Thirdly, we look at the implications of these climate policies for equity and inclusive development. The results show that despite their rapid growth, Amazonian cities fail to integrate their climate policies with urban development policies, as well as placing them in a broader justice perspective.

302

F. de Wit

Urban Development in the Amazon The Amazon, shared by nine South American countries,2 sustains about 40% of the world’s remaining tropical rainforests, making it an essential provider of environmental services, including biodiversity conservation, carbon storage, and the regulation of regional hydrological cycles, among others (Fearnside 2008). However, the Amazon is in transition and the pressure on the forest has drastically increased in recent years (Davidson et al. 2012). Drivers of Amazon deforestation are diverse and complex, including socio-economic, political and demographic factors (Perz et al. 2008). Examples of socio-economic drivers of deforestation include expanding urban, energy and transport infrastructures (Malhi et al. 2008). An economy based on agricultural expansion and logging— instead of forest maintenance—also rapidly increases deforestation rates (Fearnside 2008; Davidson et al. 2012). Political factors that increase deforestation include: a lack of cooperation in forest governance (Nagendra and Ostrom 2012) and limited enforcement to monitor deforestation (Gibbs and Rausch 2015). Lastly, rural-urban migration, often related to land tenure problems and inequality in land ownership, fuels deforestation (Lapola et al. 2013). Literature on urban climate governance in the Amazon is almost nonexisting, as the core of researchers looks at the region from a more natural science perspective (see for example Malhi et al. 2008; Nobre and Borma 2009; Davidson et al. 2012). An exception was the late Brazilian geographer Berta Becker. In her last work Forest and the City (2013), Becker looks at the dialectic relation between the city and the forest and attempts to answer the question why Amazon cities did not bring the regional development their countries had hoped for. She highlights how Amazon cities are at the margin of their countries and with a relationship of hierarchical subordination to the external demands of world metropoles. Moreover, the focus in the Amazon is on the geopolitics of territorial control and the creation of new administrative institutions without social development.

2The nine countries that share the Amazon are: Brazil, Peru, Colombia, Bolivia, Venezuela, Guyana, Suriname, Ecuador and French Guiana.

15 Urban Climate Governance in the Amazon

303

The region still suffers from a lack of complete productive chains, structuring and integrating the production sectors, with a predominance of informal economy and great dependency on the Brazilian State. In her work on the role of Brazil’s Amazonian municipalities in global climate governance, Inoue (2012) describes two dynamics: (1) the national Brazilian policy to ‘name and shame’ municipalities with the highest deforestation rates, forcing a reaction in the form of multilevel arrangements to help the cities decreasing their rates; and (2) municipalities getting involved in the international climate negotiation process, strengthening their role in climate networks. Malhado et al (2017) highlight the autonomy and critical role of Brazilian municipal administrations to develop environmental policies as well as regulating agricultural expansion and urban development but conclude that their low level of institutional capacity prevents them from taking proactive measures to reduce their environmental vulnerability.

Urban Development in the Brazilian Amazon With 64% of the Amazonian rainforest inside its borders, Brazil holds the largest share of the Amazonian rainforest (Global Forest Atlas 2018). Brazil is geographically divided into five regions,3 with the Amazon mainly situated in the Northern region, including seven federal states.4 It is important to point out that the Brazilian Amazon—also known as the Legal Amazon (Amazonia Legal )—is shared by nine Brazilian states, and also includes Mato Grosso (Central West) and Maranhão (Northeast). Table 15.1 contains demographic data for the Brazilian States that are situated in the Amazon and shows how almost all Amazonian states have a low density, compared to the national density. We can also see that, except for the state of Amapá, all other Amazonian States have a lower relative percentage of urban population for 2010 than the national value of 84.36%. Table 15.1 also provides data on the Amazonian capital cities, with three ‘over-a-million-inhabitants’ cities: Manaus, Belém and São Luís. For the 3 Brazil’s

five regions are: North, Northeast, Central West, Southeast and South.

4The seven federal states that form the Northern region are: Acre, Amapá, Amazonas, Pará, Rondônia,

Roraima and Tocantins.

304

Table 15.1

F. de Wit

The Brazilian Amazon states and their capital cities

Amazon state

% urban pop.

Density inhab./km2

Acre Amapá Amazonas Pará Rondônia

72 89 79 68 74

4.47 4.69 2.23 6.07 6.58

Roraima Tocantins Maranhão Mato Grosso Brazil North

77 79 63 82

2.01 4.98 19.81 3.36

84 73

22.43 4.12

Capital city Rio Branco Macapá Manaus Belém Porto Velho Boa Vista Palmas São Luís Cuiaba

Inhab. 2010

% living in capital

336,038 398,204 1,802,014 1,393,399 428,527

46 59 52 18 27

284,313 228,332 1,014,837 551,098

63 17 15 18

Data source 2010 Brazilian National Census (IBGE 2011)

Amazonian states of Acre, Amapá, Amazonas and Roraima, we can see the importance of their respective capital cities with over 40% of their population living in the capital.

Urban Development in the Peruvian Amazon With 10% of the Amazon on Peruvian territory, it holds the second largest share of the Amazonian rainforest (Global Forest Atlas 2018). Peru’s latest national census was conducted in 2017 and therefore with more recent data in comparison to the Brazilian census. It is important to point out that Peru’s census does not provide data on inhabitants per city, but per province and district in accordance with their administrative division. As of 2017, Peru is divided into 24 departments, 196 provinces and 1874 districts. The country is divided into three natural regions: the coast (costa), the Andes (sierra) and the Amazon (selva). Out of these, the coast is the most populated (58% of the total population), followed by the Andes and lastly the Amazon.

305

15 Urban Climate Governance in the Amazon

Table 15.2

Department Amazonas Loreto Madre de Dios San Martin Ucayali Peru

Peruvian Amazon departments and their capital cities Annual growth rate % pop. 2007–2017 urban in % 2017 Capital city

Inhab. 2017

Variation % inhab. 2007–2017 department (%) in capital

0.1 −0.1 2.6

42 69 83

55,506 479,866 111,474

12 −3 42

15 54 79

1.1 1.4 0.7

68 81 79

122,365 384,168

6 15

15 77

Chachapoyas Iquitos Puerto Maldonado Moyobamba Pucallpa

Data source 2017 Peruvian National Census (INEI 2018)

Out of Peru’s 24 regional departments, five belong to the Amazon.5 Table 15.2 illustrates that three out of the five Amazon departments have a higher annual growth rate of their population in comparison to the national rate: Madre de Dios, San Martin and Ucayali. Also, compared to the national percentage of urban population of 79%, two departments show a larger urban population than the national percentage for 2017: in Madre de Dios, 83% of the inhabitants live in urban areas, and in Ucayali 81% of its total inhabitants. The Peruvian Amazon, compared to its Brazilian counterpart, does not have cities with over a million inhabitants. Looking at capital cities in the Peruvian Amazon (Table 15.2), we see that except for the city of Iquitos, all other capital cities are rapidly expanding. The city of Puerto Maldonado, capital of the department of Madre de Dios, grew by 42% between 2007–2017. In three of the five Amazonian departments (Loreto, Madre de Dios and Ucayali), more than 50% of its inhabitants live in the capital. With respectively 79 and 77% of its inhabitants living in the capital, Madre de Dios (Puerto Maldonado) and Ucayali (Pucallpa) show the extreme importance of and dependency on the departments’ capitals.

5The five regional departments that make up the Peruvian Amazon are: Amazonas, Loreto, San Martin, Ucayali and Madre de Dios.

306

F. de Wit

Methods In order to analyse the implications of urban climate governance in the Amazon, we chose two capital cities with more than 200,000 inhabitants, as our case studies: Rio Branco in Brazil and Pucallpa in Peru. Both cities are situated in the southwestern Amazon, which falls within the altitudinal gradient that defines the ecological transition from the Amazonian lowlands to the Andean highlands, making it highly biodiverse (Myers et al. 2000). The biodiversity of its forests makes the southwestern Amazon an important region for timber and non-timber forest products (Perz 2016). Rio Branco, capital of the Brazilian State of Acre, was chosen because of its State System of Incentives for Environmental Services: one of the world’s most advanced statewide programmes in low-emission rural development (Stickler 2014). Pucallpa, the capital of the Peruvian department of Ucayali, is an interesting case study, because of the department’s land conflicts with its indigenous populations and climate governance structures (Leal et al. 2015). Although Acre-Brazil and Ucayali-Peru share borders and their capital cities are geographically close to each other,6 there is no means of transportation connecting them. Using MaxQDA qualitative coding software, we conducted a twofolded policy analysis for the two case study Amazonian cities, a qualitative content analysis on: (1) the main objectives with relation to climate change, and (2) the implications of the policies to justice and equity. The analysed policy documents include: the regional climate strategy, the regional development strategy and the ecological and economic zoning strategy (ZEE) for both Rio Branco-Acre and Pucallpa-Ucayali. With regard to the local policies, it is important to note that neither Rio Branco in the Brazilian Amazon, nor Pucallpa in the Peruvian Amazon, have local climate policies, but rely on their regional climate plans and strategies, respectively from the state of Acre and the department of Ucayali. Therefore, the local policies that were used for this analysis are both cities’ urban development plans. Table 15.3 shows the eight regional and local policy documents that were qualitatively analysed: four policy documents from Rio Branco-Brazil and four documents from Pucallpa-Peru. 6The

distance between the two capital cities is approximately 750 km in a straight line.

15 Urban Climate Governance in the Amazon

Table 15.3

307

Regional and local policy documents qualitatively analysed

Rio Branco-Brazil

Pucallpa-Peru

Policy

Year

Policy

Year

Acre State System for Incentives of Environmental Services (SISA) Ecological and Economic Zoning Acre, Phase II (ZEE)

2012

Regional Climate Change Strategy Ucayali

2014

2010

Ecological and Economic Zoning of the Ucayali Region (ZEE) Regional Development Plan Ucayali 2011–2021 Urban Development Plan of Coronel Portillo

2017

Pluri-Annual Plan 2016–2019 Acre (PPA) Directive Plan of Rio Branco

2015 2016

2011 2017

Following the framework for comparative climate policy analysis by Vogel and Henstra (2015), we applied theoretical prepositions on climate change framing and climate justice to the regional and local policies. We used a coding system to describe if climate change was mentioned and how climate change in the urban areas was framed in the policy documents. Vogel and Henstra (2015) sort climate adaptation framing into four different categories: (1) a hazard frame: emphasising the future threat of climate change; (2) a risk frame: looking at climate as a potential but uncertain risk that can be managed; (3) a vulnerability frame: focusing on reducing the core determinants of vulnerability, such as poverty and inequality; and (4) a resilience frame: emphasising a community’s capacity to deal with climate related stresses and learn from them. Depending on the way climate change was framed, secondly, we used sub-coding to look at if and how the climate change challenge was linked to justice and equity. Okereke and Dooley (2010) describe three forms of injustice in climate governance, injustice related to: (1) contributions to climate change, (2) impacts of climate change, and (3) participation in climate governance. We used the three forms of injustice in climate governance as sub-codes in our qualitative content analysis of the policy documents.

308

F. de Wit

Results Framing Urban Climate Governance Regional and Local Policy Analysis for Rio Branco-Brazil Analysis of the climate policies in the Brazilian state of Acre and its implications for its urban areas in general and the state capital Rio Branco in specific, show a focus on climate change as a hazard and a risk. Climate change is discussed in relation to natural resources, biodiversity, possible natural hazards and the need to create low-emission development. Climate change is framed in direct relation to local land use and deforestation and therefore high importance is given to the policies of the United Nations Reducing Emissions of Deforestation and Degradation (UN-REDD). Acre’s State System for Incentives of Environmental Services (SISA) has as its main objective “to promote a progressive reduction of the greenhouse gas emissions coming from deforestation and forest degradation” (Acre 2010). Acre’s Pluri-Annual Plan for 2016–2019 (PPA) describes global climate governance as an opportunity to receive international funding, in the form of innovative mechanisms that finance a low-carbon economy. It highlights Acre’s role as a pioneer in forest conservation. Acre is a partner in the REDD for Early Movers (REM) programme and has received financing from the German development bank KfW. In its policy document on ecological and economic zoning (ZEE), Acre highlights its Policy for Valuing Forest Environmental Assets, which comprises different state programmes and projects that promote forest-dependent livelihoods by a certification system and payment for ecosystem services, such as carbon storage and biodiversity conservation. Regarding its urban areas, Acre’s sustainable policies highlight the peculiarities of the State’s cities as being forest cities and the importance of breaking the barriers between the urban and rural dimension. It also highlights the importance of participation and Florestania (Forest Citizenship) in an Amazonian twenty-first-century city. An important first step of Acre’s Florestania was the implementation of ZEE in 2010. ZEE divides the state of Acre into different territorial zones depending on their land use activities, such as agriculture, forest preservation, indigenous territories and forest

15 Urban Climate Governance in the Amazon

309

production. Its strategy to create a balance between rural, urban, forest areas is focused on making the rural and forest areas more attractive to the population. The Municipal Director Plan for Rio Branco does not mention mitigation nor adaptation to climate change on the city level, although one of its five objectives is related to sustainable development, defined as: socially fair, environmentally balanced and economically viable local development, as well as ensuring the quality of life for present and future generations (Rio Branco 2016). It describes the mechanisms of environmental compensation as well as the importance of urban afforestation.

Regional and Local Policy Analysis for Pucallpa-Peru Climate policies of the department of Ucayali also frame climate change as a hazard and risk and highlight that the city of Pucallpa has the highest vulnerability for extreme events such as landslides, floods and gales. The regional climate strategy points to poor sanitation and health problems related to heat waves, because of rapid urbanisation. However, there are no programmes of rehabilitation or urban renewal, inducing overcrowding, especially in the department’s capital city Pucallpa. One of the objectives mentioned in Ucayali’s regional climate policy is to develop urban development plans with a focus on climate change and risk management on the provincial and district level. The main vision for 2030 of the regional climate policy is a region less vulnerable and with increased resilience towards climate change on the regional and local level, leading to productive sustainable development. The climate policy, divided into a mitigation and adaptation component, has two main objectives: (1) decreasing vulnerability through increasing the adaptive capacity of the population, the economic sectors and all government levels; and (2) conserving carbon storage and contributing to the reduction of greenhouse gas emissions through the promotion of sustainable development (Ucayali 2014). Ucayali’s regional development plan for 2011–2021 does not mention climate change and shows a strong focus on socio-economic potential, GDP and private sector involvement, especially for timber extraction and

310

F. de Wit

agricultural expansion, but lacks information on the social and cultural perception of the changing environment. One of its five strategic dimensions is related to natural resources and the environment, but its focus is on the commodification of the region’s natural resources. Pucallpa’s urban development plan mentions climate change and frames it as a risk, relating it to possible environmental degradation. It is mentioned as a threat to the degradation of agricultural land. Therefore, it recommends evaluating climate change in Pucallpa in relation to crops, livestock, productivity and production costs. Climate change is described in relation to its possible impacts on economic growth and production and the importance of integrating climate change policies with spatial planning. Lastly, the policy mentions the physical infrastructure of the city and its unpreparedness in relation to possible disasters. It recommends identifying appropriate technologies for climate change in the construction of buildings and urban management.

Climate Justice in Amazonian Cities Climate Justice in Rio Branco-Brazil In relation to injustice in climate policies, the policies’ main focus is on addressing injustices in participation. The analysed regional and local policies for Rio Branco, all mention the importance of civil society participation in the formulation, management, monitoring, evaluation and review of the policies. Especially Acre’s pioneering State System for Incentives of Environmental Services shows great concern in relation to civil society participation. Its governance structure includes a Commission for Validation and Accompaniment (CEVA—Comissão Estadual de Validação e Acompanhamento), comprised of four civil society organisations and four governmental organisation and responsible for monitoring the state system. An important component of CEVA is the Indigenous Working Group, representing the needs and demands of Acre’s 15 ethnic groups. Acre’s Pluri-Annual Plan 2016–2019 also emphasises its focus on linking sustainable development with social inclusion but does not explicitly mention climate change.

15 Urban Climate Governance in the Amazon

311

Injustices related to the impacts of climate change are not mentioned by all policy documents. Acre’s PPA points to the importance of using environmental education to raise awareness on environmental impacts among the most vulnerable groups of its population. ZEE mentions the impacts of droughts and forest fires and highlights the importance to act for future perspectives of the Amazonian societies. SISA does not mention injustices related to the impacts of climate change. On the municipal level, in relation to adaptation to climate change, the city of Rio Branco has created its Cidade do Povo (City of the People), a programme that has constructed social housing for around 50,000 inhabitants, who were living in areas vulnerable to flooding of the Acre river. The policy documents do not explicitly mention climate injustices related to contributions to climate change.

Climate Justice in Pucallpa-Peru Like in the Brazilian case, the Peruvian policy documents all mention the importance of civil society participation in all stages of the policy circle. Ucayali’s climate strategy mentions the value of stakeholders in the document’s preparation and implementation, “generating a creative atmosphere of reflection and an analysis on the beliefs, attitudes and practices that are part of reality” (Ucayali 2014). The policy documents highlight the need for more decentralisation and increased local participation, as most decisions are taken in Peru’s capital Lima, where they lack a more ‘Amazonian’ and intercultural viewpoint. The input of different local indigenous ethnic groups and the creation of a regional working group on indigenous peoples, shows the importance given to a more intercultural perspective. With respect to injustices regarding the impacts of climate change, Ucayali’s climate strategy focuses on the impacts on different economic sectors and not on the impacts on the most vulnerable populations. Pucallpa’s urban development plan has the promotion of urban social equity as one of its objectives, including a programme of environmental education and civil defence.

312

F. de Wit

The policy documents do not explicitly mention climate injustices related to contributions to climate change.

Discussion and Conclusions Our results show that cities in both the Peruvian and Brazilian Amazon are rapidly growing, which is increasing their vulnerability towards climate change and increases already existing structures of inequality (Bulkeley et al. 2013). Urban climate governance involves much more than CO2 and is actually about governing other things than the climate; It is not merely a technical or accounting issue, but a political project which carries far-reaching implications for both the powerful and the powerless (Hulme 2017). Although working on the local level can enhance societal participation, transparency and accountability, it might also increase inequality and injustice, by not framing climate change as a systemic, socio-technical problem. Both case studies show how climate change is framed as a hazard and risk, and not inside a vulnerability or resilience framework, which explains their lack of policy integration between climate policies and equity related policies. Cities in the Amazon show particular characteristics that are of importance for their governance system. In the first place, they challenge the division between urban and rural and can be described as Forest Cities. The Brazilian case study, with its Forest Citizenship, shows the dynamic interaction between the city and its surrounding forests. However, the analysed policy documents showed a very external viewpoint, looking at the forest as possible carbon credits, not taking the local viewpoint into consideration. The policy documents do not explicitly mention climate injustices related to contributions to climate change. However, Acre’s SISA is based on international financing of low-emission development in the Amazon. This means that high carbon emission countries in the Global North finance low-carbon development in the Global South. Another characteristic of Amazonian cities is their intercultural diversity. The climate policies mention the importance of civil society participation, social inclusion and intercultural development, but do not explicitly state how they take indigenous knowledge and worldviews into

15 Urban Climate Governance in the Amazon

313

consideration. Both the Peruvian and the Brazilian case study have created indigenous working groups, but it remains unclear how the input of these working groups is being used. Also, there is a lack of intercultural dialogue on the framing of climate change and its implications. The multilevel governance of climate change in the Amazon is a great challenge. Local, regional and national governments might have different political viewpoints and there is a lack of cohesion between their climate documents. Also, as shown by our case studies, on the local level there is often no local climate strategy, making the Amazonian cities dependent on their regional governments. In their work, Malhado et al. (2017), demonstrate that municipalities in the Brazilian Legal Amazon are generally poorly prepared to deal with the challenges of biodiversity conservation and environmental change, and one of their recommendations is on the need for further efforts by federal and state governments, environmental NGOs and private organisations to more effectively engage Amazonian municipalities. We also want to add the importance of the capacity building of local Amazonian governments on a more systemic approach towards climate change and a new standard of regional development, with a more internal and Amazonian focus, capable of improving the life conditions of Amazonian populations and overcoming the threats to their sustainability. UN REDD policies highlight the importance of the standing forest as a compatible commodity, to face the energy, climate and economic crises and leads to the concept of Amazonian forest cities, and the recovery of Amazonian cities as logistical knots in networks and the creation of complete productive chains. Instead of looking at the Amazonian cities and urban development as a threat to sustainability, we need a paradigm shift towards Amazonian cities as an opportunity for a more just and effective climate governance.

References Acre. (2010). Sistema de Incentivo a Serviços Ambientais. Rio Branco. Anguelovski, I., Chu, E., & Carmin, J. A. (2014). Variations in Approaches to Urban Climate Adaptation: Experiences and Experimentation from the Global South. Global Environmental Change. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.gloenvcha. 2014.05.010.

314

F. de Wit

Arima, E. Y., Barreto, P., Araújo, E., & Soares-Filho, B. (2014). Public Policies Can Reduce Tropical Deforestation: Lessons and Challenges from Brazil. Land Use Policy. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.landusepol.2014.06.026. Aylett, A. (2015). Institutionalizing the Urban Governance of Climate Change Adaptation: Results of an International Survey. Urban Climate, 14, 4–16. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.uclim.2015.06.005. Becker, B. K. (2013). A urbe amazônida: a floresta e a cidade. Garamond. Biermann, F., Betsill, M. M., Gupta, J., Kanie, N., Lebel, L., Liverman, D., et al. (2010). Earth System Governance: A Research Framework. International Environmental Agreements: Politics, Law and Economics, 10 (4), 277–298. https:// doi.org/10.1007/s10784-010-9137-3. Brondizio, E. (2016). The Elephant in the Room: Amazonian Cities Deserve More Attention in Climate Change and Sustainability Discussions. The Nature of Cities. Available at: https://www.thenatureofcities.com/2016/02/ 02/the-elephant-in-the-room-amazonian-cities-deserve-more-attention-inclimate-change-and-sustainability-discussions/. Accessed 10 August 2018. Broto, V. C. (2017). Urban Governance and the Politics of Climate Change. World Development, 93, 1–15. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.worlddev.2016.12. 031. Bulkeley, H. (2010). Cities and the Governing of Climate Change. Annual Review of Environment and Resources. https://doi.org/10.1146/annurevenviron-072809-101747. Bulkeley, H., & Betsill, M. (2016, May). ‘Rethinking Sustainable Cities : Multilevel Governance and the ‘Urban’ Politics of Climate Change. Environmental Politics, 37–41. https://doi.org/10.1080/0964401042000310178. Bulkeley, H., Carmin, J., Broto, V. C., Edwards, G. A. S., & Fuller, S. (2013). Climate Justice and Global Cities: Mapping the Emerging Discourses. Global Environmental Change, 23(5), 914–925. https://doi.org/10.1016/j. gloenvcha.2013.05.010. Bulkeley, H., Edwards, G. A. S., & Fuller, S. (2014). Contesting Climate Justice in the City: Examining Politics and Practice in Urban Climate Change Experiments. Global Environmental Change, 25 (1), 31–40. https://doi.org/ 10.1016/j.gloenvcha.2014.01.009. Chu, E., Anguelovski, I., & Roberts, D. (2017). Climate Adaptation as Strategic Urbanism: Assessing Opportunities and Uncertainties for Equity and Inclusive Development in Cities. Cities. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cities.2016.10.016. Davidson, E. A., de Araújo, A. C., Artaxo, P., Balch, J. K., Brown, I. F., Bustamante, M. M., et al. (2012). The Amazon Basin in Transition. Nature, 481(7381), 321–328. https://doi.org/10.1038/nature10717.

15 Urban Climate Governance in the Amazon

315

Fearnside, P. M. (2008). Amazon Forest Maintenance as a Source of Environmental Services. Anais Da Academia Brasileira de Ciencias, 80 (1), 101–114. https://doi.org/10.1590/S0001-37652008000100006. Folke, C., Carpenter, S., Walker, B., Scheffer, M., Chapin, T., & Rockström, J. (2010). Resilience Thinking: Integrating Resilience, Adaptability and Transformability. Ecology and Society, 15(4). https://doi.org/10.1038/nnano.2011. 191. Gibbs, H., & Rausch, L. (2015). Brazil’s Soy Moratorium, Science AAAS, 23(347). https://doi.org/10.1126/science.aaa0181. Global Forest Atlas. (2018). The Amazon Basin Forest. Available at: https:// globalforestatlas.yale.edu/region/amazon Accessed 8 February 2018. Hulme, M. (2017). Weathered: Cultures of Climate. London: Sage. IBGE. (2011). Sinopse do censo demográfico: 2010. Rio de Janeiro: IBGE. INEI. (2018). Censos Nacionales 2017. Lima. Inoue, C. (2012). Governance of Global Climate Change in the Brazilian Amazon: The Case of Amazonian Municipalities of Brazil. Revista Brasileira de Política Internacional. Instituto Brasileiro de Relações Internacionais, 55 (spe), 170–189. https://doi.org/10.1590/s0034-73292012000300010. Jordan, A., Huitema, D., van Asselt, H., & Forster, J. (Eds.). (2018). Governing Climate Change: Polycentricity in Action? Cambridge University Press. Available at: https://www.cambridge.org/pt/academic/subjects/earth-andenvironmental-science/environmental-policy-economics-and-law/governingclimate-change-polycentricity-action?format=HB&isbn=9781108418126. Accessed 15 December 2018. Lapola, D. M., Martinelli, L. A., Peres, C. A., Ometto, J. P., Ferreira, M. E., Nobre, C. A., et al. (2013). Pervasive Transition of the Brazilian LandUse System. Nature Climate Change, 4 (1), 27–35. https://doi.org/10.1038/ nclimate2056. Leal, D. P., Salisbury, D., Fernández, J. F., Pezo, L. C., & Silva, J. (2015). Ideas cambiantes sobre territorio, recursos y redes políticas en la Amazonía indígena: un estudio de caso sobre Perú. Journal of Latin American Geography. https:// doi.org/10.1353/lag.2015.0018. Lenton, T. M., Held, H., Kriegler, E., Hall, J. W., Lucht, W., Rahmstorf, S., et al. (2008). Tipping Elements in the Earth’s Climate System. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 105 (6), 1786–1793. https://doi.org/10. 1073/pnas.0705414105. Malhado, A. C., Costa, M. H., Correia, R. A., Malhado, A. C., de la Fuente, M. F. C., da Costa, A. M., et al. (2017, September). Are Capacity Deficits in Local

316

F. de Wit

Government Leaving the Amazon Vulnerable to Environmental Change? Land Use Policy, 69, 326–330. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.landusepol.2017.07.035. Malhi, Y., Roberts, J. T., Betts, R. A., Killeen, T. J., Li, W., & Nobre, C. A. (2008). Climate Change, Deforestation, and the Fate of the Amazon. Science, 319 (iv), 169–172. https://doi.org/10.1126/science.1146961. Myers, N., Mittermeier, R. A., Mittermeier, C. G., Da Fonseca, G. A., & Kent, J. (2000). Biodiversity Hotspots for Conservation Priorities. Nature. https:// doi.org/10.1038/35002501. Nagendra, H., & Ostrom, E. (2012). Polycentric Governance of Multifunctional Forested Landscapes. International Journal of the Commons, 6 (2), 104–133. https://doi.org/10.18352/ijc.321. Nepstad, D., Soares-Filho, B. S., Merry, F., Lima, A., Moutinho, P., Carter, J., et al. (2009). The End of Deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon. Science, 326 (5958), 1350–1351. https://doi.org/10.1126/science.1182108. Nepstad, D. C., Stickler, C. M., Filho, B. S., & Merry, F. (2008). Interactions Among Amazon Land Use, Forests and Climate: Prospects for a Near-Term Forest Tipping Point. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society of London. Series B, Biological sciences, 363(1498), 1737–1746. https://doi.org/10.1098/ rstb.2007.0036. Nevens, F., Frantzeskaki, N., Gorissen, L., & Loorbach, D. (2013). Urban Transition Labs: Co-creating Transformative Action for Sustainable Cities. Journal of Cleaner Production, 50, 111–122. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jclepro.2012. 12.001. Nobre, C. A., & Borma, L. D. S. (2009). “Tipping Points” for the Amazon Forest. Current Opinion in Environmental Sustainability, 1(1), 28–36. https:// doi.org/10.1016/j.cosust.2009.07.003. Nobre, C. A., Sampaio, G., Borma, L. S., Castilla-Rubio, J. C., Silva, J. S., & Cardoso, M. (2016). Land-Use and Climate Change Risks in the Amazon and the Need of a Novel Sustainable Development Paradigm. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 113(39), 10759–10768. https://doi.org/10. 1073/pnas.1605516113. Nolte, C., Agrawal, A., Silvius, K. M., & Soares-Filho, B. S. (2013). Governance Regime and Location Influence Avoided Deforestation Success of Protected Areas in the Brazilian Amazon. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 110 (13), 4956–4961. https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1214786110. Okereke, C., & Dooley, K. (2010). Principles of Justice in Proposals and Policy Approaches to Avoided Deforestation: Towards a Post-Kyoto Climate Agreement. Global Environmental Change. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.gloenvcha. 2009.08.004.

15 Urban Climate Governance in the Amazon

317

Ostrom, E. (2010a). Beyond Markets and States: Polycentric Governance of Complex Economic Systems. American Economic Review, 100 (3), 641–672. https://doi.org/10.1257/aer.100.3.1. Ostrom, E. (2010b). Polycentric Systems for Coping with Collective Action and Global Environmental Change. Global Environmental Change. https://doi. org/10.1016/j.gloenvcha.2010.07.004. Perz, S. G. (2016). Crossing Boundaries for Collaboration: Conservation and Development Projects in the Amazon. Lanham: Lexington Books. Perz, S., Brilhante, S., Brown, F., Caldas, M., Ikeda, S., Mendoza, E., et al. (2008). Road Building, Land Use and Climate Change: Prospects for Environmental Governance in the Amazon. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences, 363(1498), 1889–1895. https://doi.org/10.1098/rstb. 2007.0017. Raworth, K. (2012). A Safe and Just Space for Humanity: Can We Live Within the Doughnut? Nature, 461, 1–26. https://doi.org/10.5822/978-1-61091458-1. Rio Branco. (2016). Plano Diretor Participativo Municipal. Rio Branco: Prefeitura Municipal de Rio Branco. Rockström, J., Steffen, W. L., Noone, K., Persson, Å., Chapin III, F. S., Lambin, E., et al. (2009). Planetary Boundaries: Exploring the Safe Operating Space for Humanity. Ecology and Society, 14 (2). https://doi.org/10.5751/es-03180140232. Steffen, W., Richardson, K., Rockström, J., Cornell, S. E., Fetzer, I., Bennett, E. M., et al. (2015). Planetary Boundaries: Guiding Human Development on a Changing Planet. Journal of Education for Sustainable Development, 9 (2), 235. https://doi.org/10.1177/0973408215600602a. Stickler, C. (2014). Fostering Low-Emission Rural Development from the Ground Up. San Francisco. 36pp. Available at: http://earthinnovation.org/wp-content/ uploads/2014/12/Fostering_Tropical_LED-R.pdf. Accessed 2 June 2017. Ucayali. (2014). Estrategia Regional de Cambio Climático de Ucayali. Pucallpa. https://doi.org/10.1638/2008-0080.1. van der Heijden, J. (2016). Experimental Governance for Low-Carbon Buildings and Cities: Value and Limits of Local Action Networks. Cities. https://doi.org/ 10.1016/j.cities.2015.12.008. Vogel, B., & Henstra, D. (2015). Studying Local Climate Adaptation: A Heuristic Research Framework for Comparative Policy Analysis. Global Environmental Change, 31, 110–120. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.gloenvcha.2015.01.001.

16 Greening Urban Politics: Conflicts Over Tree Felling in Warsaw Renata Putkowska-Smoter

Introduction Decision-making about urban greenery has typically been incorporated into sophisticated urban planning processes driven by particular social, economic, and political circumstances. The nineteenth-century garden city movements were driven by utopian ideals of a perfect synthesis between nature and built urban environments (Gandy 2006). Later, public green spaces were introduced as a remedy for disastrous health conditions in highly industrialised cities (Hise 2002). In contemporary urban development, greenery is often perceived and promoted as fulfilling various functions, which are known as ecosystem services (MEA 2005). The treatment of urban greenery as human-constructed and functional means that urban nature does not fit into the standards of nature conservation that are often perceived as ‘wilderness’ protection (Sörlin 2013). However, R. Putkowska-Smoter (B) Institute of Philosophy and Sociology of the Polish Academy of Sciences, Warsaw, Poland e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2020 M. Smagacz-Poziemska et al. (eds.), Inequality and Uncertainty, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-32-9162-1_16

319

320

R. Putkowska-Smoter

more than half the global population is already living in cities, and for these people, urban nature is ‘living space’ (Dunlap and Marshall 2006). Thus, the protection of urban nature is a vital issue. Furthermore, the rich history of conflicts over urban greenery shows that urban nature can steer individuals to take environmental action. Interestingly enough, a number of research studies exploring such conflicts suggest that they addressed various inequalities produced by urban policy rather than environmental issues per se. For instance, these conflicts often emphasise inequalities in particular decision-making, such as in the fight for People’s Park in Berkeley in the late 1960s (Allen 2011) or the case of Fort Lawton in Seattle in the 1970s (Sanders 2008). Other studies indicate a call for a radical ‘open space’ as a site of contestation and visibility of marginalised groups, as during the occupation of St. James Park by Occupy Toronto (Kohn 2013) or in the struggle for Gezi Park in Istanbul (Selvelli 2016). Yet, these studies are often based on one particular conflict and to a lesser extent explore the potential of such struggles to provide an ongoing evaluation of urban environmental politics. As such conflicts began to appear in various Polish cities more frequently, they brought to the surface questions about what drives people to preserve urban nature and to what extent those struggles can contribute to the ongoing critical analysis of urban politics towards complex environmental issues such as climate change or air pollution. Thus, the aim of this study is to analyse the broader socio-ecological contexts of 18 conflicts over tree felling that appeared in Warsaw in the years 2010–2017 in the form of a collective case study and to look for a more universal pattern of these claims in the contemporary city. This research was focused on three questions: Who are the people involved in such conflicts over tree felling? What are the main claims about environmental decision-making made by tree felling opponents? To what extent do different conflicts share similar alternative claims about urban politics towards the environment? The article firstly articulates already existing findings about the role of local struggles in the critical evaluation of urban environmental politics and justifies the realm of this research. Next, the concept of socio-ecological flows has been used to outline different ways in which urban greenery functions in the contemporary city. Finally, postulates and actions towards threatened

16 Greening Urban Politics: Conflicts Over Tree …

321

green areas are analysed as a critical evaluation of environmental decisionmaking that address its missing point and the role of environmental public administration in such decisions. The study is based on qualitative analysis of approximately 100 documents pertinent to the topic (press releases, letters, petitions). This analysis has been triangulated with 20 interviews and participant observation of three open public debates about greenery (arranged in 2015, 2016 and 2017). The interviewees were representatives of tree felling opponents identified through snowball sampling. Qualitative data was analysed using MAXQDA 18 via inductive coding.

Urban Nature Revisited Why does urban environmental politics matter? The complex and dialectic relation between a city and nature has been already considered a high priority in the agenda of scholars influenced by political ecology. Their research is focused on the interplay of the environment with various political, economic, and social factors. According to this perspective, a city is a result of permanent and circulated flows and networks of both humans and non-humans (e.g. animals, greenery, water, climate conditions, energy), which Swyngedouw (2006) termed ‘city metabolism.’ One of these processes is urbanisation of nature, in which the natural environment is socially mobilised, economically incorporated (commodified), and physically metabolised/transformed (Kaika and Swyngedouw 2014: 463) in order to sustain a particular political-economic configuration (Swyngedouw 2006), for instance in the form of the ‘competitive,’ ‘global,’ or ‘sustainable’ city. The interconnections between the environment and other forces can particularly be observed in the case of urban planning. Land for parks and trees can be evaluated as asset allocation over other land use such as roads, housing, or industrial facilities (Haaland and van den Bosch 2015). Thus, this type of decision-making manages both market relations and local economic priorities. Such environmental policy is also about the strategic distribution of wealth among districts and various social groups. Both greenery development and tree felling can be treated as matters of

322

R. Putkowska-Smoter

environmental justice because they can provide or limit ecosystem services for entire neighbourhoods (Heynen et al. 2006a). Finally, environmental decision-making needs to reconcile social tensions and different expectations connected with both the positive and negative side effects of greenery (Braverman 2008), which can influence the build-up of political capital at the local level. Thus, the effects of urban environmental politics are far more extensive than one might expect. They affect most citizens, regardless of those citizens’ approach to the state of environmental affairs. Why are there struggles over urban greenery? As urban scholars claim (Swyngedouw 2006; Mostafavi 2010), no environmental politics can be fully equal and just because of their complexity and focus on dominant socio-economic arrangements. One measure aimed at ensuring equality and justice in the contemporary city is public participation. However, this has undergone its own critique, which asserts that such public participation can be used to exclude unwanted struggles and to prevent real change (Swyngedouw 2005) or introduce disempowerment (Morison 2017). This brings attention to acts of contestation regarding urban environmental management as ‘real’ public participation—a tool of ongoing political evaluation and bottom-up empowerment of various social groups. Thus, it would be worthwhile to briefly evaluate relevant findings based on theories of environmental social movements and research about environmental conflicts. In reference to general politics, social movements are valuable mainly for providing alternatives to mainstream politics. They are often evaluated as being made up of those citizens who are looking for new arrangements that will empower individuals to conquer an existing system (Castells 1983; Habermas 1987). For instance, Offe claimed that so-called ‘new’ social movements, including environmental ones, were trying to ‘repoliticise’ issues that had been assigned to the domain of private affairs (such as human-nature relationships) but in a different manner—outside of traditional public and institutional politics. The expected result was a change in the dominant political paradigm in a direction to reconstitute a civil society that is no longer dependent upon (…) regulation, control, and intervention (Offe 1985: 820). Even if those claims were formulated in a different political context (under the criticism of a Western welfare state and massive bureaucracy in the 1970s and 1980s), they remain in force as

16 Greening Urban Politics: Conflicts Over Tree …

323

reformulated by contemporary leftist anti-neoliberal criticism. The postulate of ‘new politics,’ which will challenge the domination of neoliberal rules and empower more egalitarian and direct democratic procedures, was the driving force of urban social movements such as Indignados and Occupy Wall Street. Environmental versions of such ‘new politics’ that can challenge environmental degradation resulted from market-driven pressures and addressed environmental injustice—e.g. a postulate of already introduced conflicts over urban greenery in Toronto (Kohn 2013) and in Istanbul (Selvelli 2016). Similar to the social movements perspective, general findings about environmental conflicts also indicate a number of conflicts’ ‘functions’ for overall environmental politics. Lach (1996) distinguishes various ways in which environmental conflicts can support social change, such as by providing social control and introducing environmental innovations. According to Martínez-Alier (2002), conflicts can help in resolving environmental problems by providing a critical reflection on dominant social values and by empowering marginalised and/or discriminated social actors. However, the evidence for the effectiveness of social movements in providing major changes is still rather weak, and some criticism towards their real independence from dominant political and economic powers emerges (Robbins 2012). Also, the long-term results of environmental conflicts are difficult to measure; there are arguments that persistent conflicts can negatively influence social trust and arrest necessary reforms. Despite such debate over their results and drawbacks, it is clear that the appearance of urban struggles challenges the very grounds of local environmental decision-making. Even if arguments for tree removal sometimes appear as well, this research is limited to protests over tree felling as they are more organised in the case of Warsaw. From this perspective, the set of conflicts over tree felling in Warsaw can be evaluated as aimed at the reformulation of the already existing socio-ecological structures and power relations among dominant political actors, local citizens, and urban nature. The concept of city metabolism will help to track such reformulations at various layers of urban environmental policy.

324

R. Putkowska-Smoter

Socio-Ecological Warsaw Informed by the concept of city metabolism, this study examined an area that can be described in the form of various ‘flows’ of the city’s elements (e.g. real space, the city’s image, data, economy, etc.) and its greenery. According to the city’s main land use planning documents, more than 25% of Warsaw’s surface is covered with greenery. Around 15% of this green canopy comes from urban forests. Another 5% is composed of unmanaged fields covered by greenery. The remaining 5% includes parks, green squares, and public gardens. The greenery of the last category is mainly located in central districts, while suburban areas are rich in urban forests. The city celebrates this ‘green’ image in the majority of its strategic documents as an element of the ‘sustainable development’ of the city. Additionally, according to a quality-of-life assessment conducted in 2015, citizens of Warsaw appear to appreciate the amount and quality of urban greenery found within close proximity of their places of residence. However, opinions differ among districts. In terms of economic flows, Warsaw’s average annual budget for maintenance of urban greenery amounted to approximately 10,000–20,000 EUR. New investments in greenery are often covered by additional funds from national or EU sources. Still, it is challenging to provide a detailed overview of urban politics regarding tree felling in particular because some crucial data is not easily accessible. For instance, there are only aggregated and fragmented data sets about tree felling and tree replanting for the years 2007–2016. These show that, in total, around 205,000 trees were removed and around 245,000 trees were planted. No corresponding data at the district level is widely available. As the socio-ecological city of Warsaw includes various natural and human processes, the state of urban greenery is rather labile, with a ‘gain and loss’ dynamic. In order to characterise this dynamic as the background of conflicts over tree felling, some general trends in decreasing and increasing urban greenery can be identified as ‘outflows’ and ‘inflows.’ One of the important outflows observed by the city is investment pressure on green areas, especially on urban forests in suburban districts. Such pressure increased after the 1989 system transition driven by neoliberal reforms and then again after the 2004 accession of Poland to the European Union, which brought new funds for public and private investments. This threat

16 Greening Urban Politics: Conflicts Over Tree …

325

should be analysed within the context of the Polish spatial planning system, which has already been heavily criticised by experts as ineffective in protecting public and green spaces against investment pressure (SCoC 2014). Some misfits of the spatial planning system to urban greenery management will be elaborated in detail in the next chapter as a bone of contention in various conflicts over tree felling in Warsaw. Interestingly enough, the city of Warsaw itself is a large investor. Investment expenditures in 2010 and 2017 represented, respectively, 21.4 and 17.8% of the city’s total expenditure. The majority of public expenditure went to transport and road-related projects which caused controversy in the past and issued a threat to urban greenery. Moreover, around 500,000 urban trees grow on private lands, which are virtually out of the public administration’s control and may be under investment pressure. The second diagnosed issue was the poor quality of many parks and street trees resulting from poor care standards, underinvestment, difficult urban conditions, and anthropogenic pressure. To deal with those challenges, some ‘inflows’—mechanisms for increasing urban greenery were proposed. Between 2010 and 2013, an inventory of street trees was implemented, and in 2015 the Warsaw City Council enounced a programme of planting one million trees. In 2016, the Warsaw tree care standards were established in order to counteract the loss of greenery. Moreover, in 2016, eleven new parks were created in seven districts, while in 2017 the city gained approximately 4.5 million EUR in EU funds for the creation of three additional green spaces. A focus on preserving green areas was among the city’s priorities in the actualisation of a master spatial management plan for Warsaw in 2018. Distribution of ‘outflows’ an ‘inflows’ of urban greenery among districts and residents takes places through various administrative procedures. They all together determine possible public participation in urban greenery management. In 2016, the Warsaw City Council decided to establish a new institution, the Warsaw Greenery Authority, which will gradually replace a dozen district institutions in the management and development of urban green areas including street trees and surface waters. Despite this, administrative decisions about tree felling are still based on different legal procedures depending on where the trees are located within a spatial system, such as in historical parks vs. non-historical parks vs. street or

326

R. Putkowska-Smoter

private land vs. public land or land covered by the local spatial management plan (in 2018, 37.23% of total land area) vs. land that is not. A variety of procedures leads to divergence in possible public participation. For instance, regarding tree felling in historical parks, and on private land, there is almost no legally binding public participation. In terms of investments that require environmental impact assessment procedures (EIA) or under the procedure of local spatial plan preparation, there is a legal obligation of public participation, but the procedural arrangements for that participation depend on the administrator’s will and competence. Along with a range of spatial planning tools, other procedures for greenery management are closer anchored in consultation with the public. In 2009, the Commission on Social Dialogue about the Environment was established. This is an NGO-based consulting and advising body that drives ongoing dialogue and environmental monitoring in cooperation with major city institutions. The issues of both tree planting and tree removal are occasionally addressed by the Commission, but this body has no decision-making power to ensure any major changes. Moreover, in the years 2010–2017, the city administration carried out around 20 local consultations dedicated mainly to planning new greenery. Finally, a significant number of the projects proposed and chosen for implementation by the citizens in the annual Warsaw participatory budget in the years 2014–2017 were associated with new greenery. As a result, the city’s policy towards urban greenery is rather top-down (especially in terms of greenery outflows) and is a formalised structure aimed at reconciliation between private and public investment pressures and a ‘green’ image of the city. Spatial planning procedures are the dominant point of reference in this form of urban greenery management, and public participation has been mainly targeted at public consultations on greening the city. The side effects of such a system are repeated struggles over tree felling.

Right to the Green City In the years 2010–2017, Warsaw was the site of at least 18 conflict events in which groups of local citizens opposed planned or already executed

16 Greening Urban Politics: Conflicts Over Tree …

327

tree felling. Ten of the conflicts were about public or private investments, six about historical park revitalisation, and two about street renovation. In general, the opponents were informal groups of individuals and local associations, in some cases supported by local or city NGOs that served as formal representatives in administrative procedures. The adversaries were district and city public administration as well as private landowners who planned new investments. Many of those conflicts drove media interest and involved additional actors—external experts, scientific institutions, and district authorities. Nevertheless, relevant city departments often defied their postulates, e.g. as belated, inadequate or driven by particular local interests. However, a detailed evaluation of postulated and actions involved in those conflicts shows that they focused on more than local discontent with already existing procedures, as they shared an understanding of the dysfunctions at work in urban green politics and the possible alternatives. Generally, struggles over tree felling are a classic example of local environmental conflicts. Actions taken by protestors were often described as group actions (‘we’), acceptable and justified by others around (‘it’s not just my opinion’) and in behalf of what is important to locals or, even more broadly, city inhabitants. These individuals termed their actions ‘monitoring,’ ‘social control over local government,’ and ‘responsibility.’ To describe their actions, protestors used words such as ‘fight,’ ‘opposition,’ and ‘defence.’ Why did these individuals decide to stand up for their communities? Mainly because the unwanted tree felling was perceived as a sign of citizens being omitted from the decision-making process. For instance, some protestors cited a lack of information: After all, if a tree needs to be cut out for some reason, then you have to do that. Only first it has to be proved to us and other residents (Interview 7). Other protestors felt that citizens are left alone with their emotions: People should not be surprised by such decisions so that they could express their sense of responsibility for this place and the attachment to it (Interview 13). In two cases of tree felling in a district less rich in urban greenery, opponents addressed the issue of environmental injustice and argued that they were fighting for the last pieces of greenery and public space in their neighbourhoods. Apart from these reasons, a problem often cited by protestors was the decision-making process itself: We do not protest against investment as such, because, firstly, it

328

R. Putkowska-Smoter

must arise, and secondly it is not our area of expertise; we protest against the fact that this investment is scandalously processed (Interview 18). Thus, the core of the allegations was connected with the drawbacks of the spatial planning system in urban greenery management: limiting participation and underrating the importance of greenery. For instance, the opponents claimed that long-term procedures for spatial management were too difficult to follow and to participate in without having professional administrative knowledge, which limited participation by individuals and informal communities related to local green areas. The protestors also shared a quite consistent image of urban greenery as a valuable source of various ‘positives’ not reflected in spatial planning procedures, such as aesthetics and landscape, oxygen and shade, city experiences of ‘another kind,’ place attachment, and habitat for non-humans. Therefore, according to the conflict participants, every urban tree has its own intrinsic value as ‘living,’ ‘breathable,’ and simply ‘green,’ and this should be taken into account in the overall valuation of a particular space. Moreover, according to the opponents, new investments (both private and public) had been given undeservedly higher priority in spatial planning procedure than the maintenance of greenery, so in some cases the trees were removed even in violation of other existing regulations or ‘in advance’ to not prevent investments on a particular site in the future. Furthermore, the opponents argued that, according to local spatial plans, already green suburban districts are treated as a ‘reserve’ for future investments and these might be made without proper compensation in the form of new greenery. Finally, the replacement of greenery implemented on the basis of administrative procedures was negatively evaluated as ‘no approval for one-for-one rule,’ ‘too small trees were planted,’ and ‘compensation was made far away from place of removal.’ Additionally, conflict participants claimed that contemporary urban greenery management should address serious challenges such as air pollution or climate change. In line with observations made by Beck (1992), opponents of tree felling seemed to doubt contemporary urban institutions and their capacity to effectively deal with such complex issues. General allegations were made about deficiencies in expert knowledge (arboreal,

16 Greening Urban Politics: Conflicts Over Tree …

329

ornithological) and the ecosystem perspective necessary to deal simultaneously with different environmental problems. Furthermore, the opponents criticised the lack of available detailed data about tree inventories and planned tree felling as a source of doubt and contrary to a holistic, strategic approach towards future greenery management. So, conflicts revealed a problem much like that defined by Lewicki et al. (1998) as simultaneous low trust and high distrust. This situation often reflects the cumulative experiences of negative interactions from the past. Under such conditions, interaction between parties may involve monitoring the other’s behaviour, preparing for the other’s distrusting actions, and attending to potential vulnerabilities that might be exploited (Lewicki et al. 1998: 446). Indeed, the opponents characterised urban decision-making about greenery as arbitrary and hidden behind complicated, formal procedures in favour of tree felling. For instance, they observed that administrative decisions mostly allowed for felling in line with planned investments or park and street renovation. Thus, arguments about diseases and poor condition of trees used in such decisions were evaluated as an excuse for felling. Moreover, some protestors shared a rumour-type negative perception of tree felling procedures as corrupted by bribes and various private interests of individual local decision-makers, external experts, or tree felling companies. According to Kapferer (2013), beyond other socio-economic and personal needs, the presence of rumours can also be anchored in ‘a demand for information’ (Kapferer 2013: 93). Thus, rumours can be a response to some structural deficiencies in information-sharing that rely on secrecy (restriction of information, censorship, conspiracy of silence) or an uncertain future (ibid.). The source of low trust/high distrust seems to lie in past negative interaction as well as in limited communication between conflict parties consisting of media releases, formal correspondence, and highly emotional clashes in conflict-related meetings. However, opponents also pointed to positive examples of individual civil servants who were ‘caring,’ ‘listening,’ ‘cooperating,’ and ‘open.’ Some opponents observed that there had been significant and promising changes in the City’s overall attitude towards greenery over the past few years. Other opponents were more cautious and preferred to wait for the effects of those changes. When considering all the deficiencies and shortcomings in the existing processes, the ‘expected response’ of conflict participants was an alternative

330

R. Putkowska-Smoter

urban policy dedicated to nature preservation and based on more inclusive and transparent procedures including wider public participation. To achieve this change, various conflict strategies combined activities focused on protecting threatened greenery in line with administrative procedures (such as involvement in spatial planning processes and official public consultations) with those which were challenging already functioning rules towards outflows of urban greenery and decision-making procedures in that. One popular strategy was to bring local actors and greenery importance to the procedures of tree felling. Thus, opponents of tree felling try to cultivate or recreate the local community around the threatened green area through local informal meetings, collecting signatures for petitions, and demonstrations on the spot. Various online discussion forums and social media profiles proved to be suitable for bottom-up discussions and direct postulate negotiations. Sometimes, the aim of the meetings was to confront the adversaries; in this case, they took place during city/district events and public consultations. Other conflicts over greenery in Warsaw were recognised as a source of information, cooperation, and inspiration for further actions. Taking this into account, opponents acknowledged the importance of spreading information about their own struggle through both traditional and social media. Invented or promoted names for a given green space or even for a particular tree helped in strengthening visibility and social recognition. Also, some artistic and tree-hugging activities during local meetings and demonstrations supported an image of conflict participants as the advocates of another stakeholder—nature itself. Finally, in order to directly overcome losses in urban greenery, the participants in many conflicts were simultaneously involved in grassroots gardening initiatives. Some of the actions were aimed at taking urban greenery out of spatial planning by enlarging the sphere of public involvement and extending the scope of public debate on this subject. Thus, the protestors’ main postulates often advocated carrying out public consultation or, when such a process had been completed already, modifying the scope of the process and improving its quality. Moreover, in four of these conflicts, the opponents proposed alternative spatial or investment plans that rendered stronger protection for urban greenery. Another action type was a call for

16 Greening Urban Politics: Conflicts Over Tree …

331

enabling wider public participation in local decision-making processes and establishing watchdog activities at the local level. In two cases, in response to ineffective social mobilisation against tree felling, the opponents formed local associations and successfully participated in local elections. This category of actions also included the creative use of participatory budget funds to force desirable changes to greenery. Moreover, some struggles involved actions focused on limiting tree felling by filling recognised gaps in greenery management through the application of extra environmental knowledge. In five cases, in order to stop or at least limit the loss of greenery, the participants sought voluntary ornithological studies and non-profit phytosanitary diagnosis. Those bodies of expert knowledge proved to be a source of argument against felling, if the felling was questioned by the appointed experts. However, if a requested diagnosis confirmed the necessity of a particular felling, that felling was often accepted as legitimate. Furthermore, some conflict participants were involved in citizen inventories of threatened greenery and bottom-up notifications via social media about illegal felling or the inappropriate care of newly planted trees. Also, participants disseminated best practices from other Polish and foreign cities in order to inspire better and more strategic greenery management in Warsaw. Those practices were often aimed at ecosystem services recognition and their measurement. In summary, most of these activities can be understood as a manifestation of ‘the right to the city’ (Lefebvre 1996; Harvey 2008), which has a certain environmental undertone. As Domaradzka (2018) argues, one interpretation of this famous slogan is as a claim for more democratic urban politics with greater involvement of city residents in the decision-making process and with respect to the quality of urban life (Domaradzka 2018: 613). Indeed, the above-mentioned postulates and actions of the protestors confirm that the state of urban greenery stands for their actual quality of life. Moreover, despite the fact that local actions did not manage to challenge all recognised dysfunctions in urban greenery management, they did bring social attention to a number of those issues and tested some alternative procedures. Some of the propositions were actually implemented by the Warsaw Greenery Authority. These actions also revealed two strategic challenges of urban environmental governance. Firstly, they showed that

332

R. Putkowska-Smoter

urban nature is not a simple profit-and-loss account; all environmental elements are socially and ecologically connected to their place and surrounding communities. This reveals that preventive measures against environmental losses need to be more adequately addressed. Secondly, providing participatory measures might not be enough to address the complexity and uncertainty of urban nature, which seriously influence relations between public administration and local citizens. Building mutual trust seems to be a missing variable in this equation and should be critically evaluated in future environmental politics.

Conclusion Analysis of these conflicts suggests that struggles over urban greenery can consist of two parallel dimensions. The first is a conflict over urban greenery preservation. In the majority of these events, participants were simply calling for nature in the contemporary city to be deemed as high a priority as that greenery that was lost for new investments and top-down beautification of green areas. In this context, struggles over greenery can be seen as a critical evaluation of the urban sustainable development promise to balance between ecological, social, and economic priorities. To some extent, the conflicts also transgress the anthropocentric perspective by calling for more urban spaces without human interference and by recognising the importance of urban greenery as a habitat for urban species other than humans. Importantly, the conflicts over greenery in Warsaw make it clear that urban environmental management consists of both inflows and outflows of urban greenery. Actions taken by the city of Warsaw addressed inflows—greening the city and replanting trees—rather than outflows— loss of greenery. From this perspective, conflicts over tree felling can be understood as complementary and (to some extent) necessary to the city’s activities in addressing the whole landscape of urban greenery management. The second observed dimension is a conflict over decision-making regarding urban greenery. In line with Swyngedouw (2009), critical assessment of decision-making was about both ‘policy’ and ‘politics.’ The first term encompasses the ways and modes of governing urban greenery,

16 Greening Urban Politics: Conflicts Over Tree …

333

while the latter can be understood as the struggle over the foundations of decision-making—core principles that drive the entire city metabolism. When evaluating policy, it is the role of conflicts rather than cooperation to assess existing procedures for urban greenery removal. The conflict is an opportunity to ask if these procedures are clear and transparent enough to ensure trust. How effective are these procedures in managing any discrepancy of interests and resources between involved parties? To what extent do these existing procedures take into account the local context and social importance of particular greenery? As a source of disagreement, conflict over greenery activates opposing parties and reveals contradictory opinions, interests, and values about this particular environmental resource. Moreover, Warsaw’s struggles suggest that these conflicts can animate local ties and strengthen the ability of citizens to constructively deal with administrative procedures. In assessing general urban principles more broadly, it appears that conflicts over greenery critically evaluate the role of governing structures in the contemporary city and (in)dependence of these structures from (or on) the city’s inhabitants. As Fisher (2000) and Swyngedouw (2005) have observed, the current environmental debate seeks to redefine the role of public administration in response to that administration being criticised, for instance, for being too far removed from citizens’ needs and illegitimate in replacing democratically elected representatives (Fisher 2000) or as replacing democratic struggles, debates, and antagonisms as ‘postpolitics’ (Swyngedouw 2005: 615). Thus, it is expected that reformed environmental public administration will be facilitators of citizens’ deliberation in order to [set] up or structur[e] public contexts that help citizens organise their own discourses (Fisher 2000: 231). Indeed, in contrast to urban social movements’ ambitions of creating totally ‘new politics,’ conflicts over greenery in Warsaw prefer improvements and adjustments to already existing structures of public administration. Participants in these conflicts proposed to add some new procedures and sources of local and expert knowledge in order to support more inclusive public debate around urban greenery. Thus, ‘repoliticisation’ proposed by Offe as a rejection by the empowered civic society of top-down control, can be translated as a regaining of control by a civic society that is empowered by its public administration. The biggest question mark is how to combine in practice

334

R. Putkowska-Smoter

such an expected, facilitating the role of public administration with the already diagnosed problem of the opponents’ distrust in this structure. In order to deal with this challenge, it would be worthwhile to enlarge the scope of future research concerning urban environmental conflict by incorporating the perspective of local administration, such as by drawing from already existing ‘street level bureaucracy’ studies. Finally, the variety of actions taken by opponents of tree felling in Warsaw could serve as a starting point for further debate about the complexity of the relations between conflictual and consensual modes of collective action. All these conclusions suggest that analysing conflicts over urban environmental threats (e.g. urban greenery loss, air pollution, climate change) may need a more complex perspective that goes beyond already existing urban social movements and environmental conflicts paradigms.

References Allen, P. (2011). The End of Modernism? People’s Park, Urban Renewal, and Community Design. Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians, 70 (3), 354–374. Beck, U. (1992). Risk Society: Towards a New Modernity. New Delhi: Sage. Braverman, I. (2008). Everybody Loves Trees: Policing American Cities Through Street Trees. Duke Environmental Law & Policy Forum, 19 (1), 81–118. Castells, M. (1983). The City and the Grassroots: A Cross-Cultural Theory of Urban Social Movements. Berkeley: University of California Press. Domaradzka, A. (2018). Urban Social Movements and the Right to the City: An Introduction to the Special Issue on Urban Mobilization. Voluntas, 29 (4), 607–620. Dunlap, R. E., & Marshall, B. K. (2006). Environmental Sociology. In Clifton D. Bryant & Dennis L. Peck (Eds.), 21st Century Sociology: A Reference Handbook (Vol. 2, pp. 329–340). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Fischer, F. (2000). Citizens, Experts, and the Environment: The Politics of Local Knowledge. Durham: Duke University Press. Gandy, M. (2006). Urban Nature and the Ecological Imaginary. In N. Heynen, M. Kaika, & E. Swyngedouw (Eds.), In the Nature of Cities: Urban Political

16 Greening Urban Politics: Conflicts Over Tree …

335

Ecology and the Politics of Urban Metabolism (pp. 62–72). London and New York: Routledge. Haaland, C., & van den Bosch, C. K. (2015). Challenges and Strategies for Urban Green-Space Planning in Cities Undergoing Densification: A Review. Urban Forestry & Urban Greening, 14 (2015), 760–771. Habermas, J. (1987). The Theory of Communicative Action, Vol. 2. Boston: Beacon Press. Harvey, D. (2008). The Right to the City. New Left Review, 53, 23–40. Heynen, N., Perkins H. A., & Roy P. (2006a). The Political Ecology of Uneven Urban Green Space: The Impact of Political Economy on Race and Ethnicity in Producing Environmental Inequality in Milwaukee. Urban Affairs Review, 42(1), 3–25. Heynen, N. C., Kaika, M., & Swyngedouw, E. (2006b). In the Nature of Cities: Urban Political Ecology and the Politics of Urban Metabolism. London: Routledge. Hise, G. (2002). Industry and the Landscapes of Social Reform. In M. Dear (Ed.), From Chicago to L.A.: Making Sense of Urban Theory (pp. 95–130). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Kaika, M., & Swyngedouw, E. (2014). Urban Political Ecology: Great Promises, Deadlock… and New Beginnings? Documents d’Anàlisi Geogràfica, 60 (3), 459–481. Kapferer, J.-N. (2013). Rumors: Uses, Interpretations, & Images. New Brunswick: Transaction. Kohn, M. (2013). Privatization and Protest: Occupy Wall Street, Occupy Toronto, and the Occupation of Public Space in a Democracy. Perspectives on Politics, 11(1), 99–110. Lach, D. (1996). Introduction: Environmental Conflict. Sociological Perspectives, 39 (2), 211–217. Lefebvre, H. (1996). The Right to the City. In E. Kofman & E. Lebas (Eds.), Writings on Cities: Henri Lefebvre (pp. 147–159). Oxford: Blackwell. Lewicki, R. J., McAllister, D. J., & Bies, R. J. (1998). Trust and Distrust: New Relationships and Realities. The Academy of Management Review, 23(3), 438–458. Martínez, A. J. (2002). The Environmentalism of the Poor: A Study of Ecological Conflicts and Valuation. Cheltenham: Edward Elgar. Millennium Ecosystem Assessment (Program). (2005). Ecosystems and Human Well-Being. Washington, DC: Island Press.

336

R. Putkowska-Smoter

Morison, J. (2017). Citizen Participation: A Critical Look at the Democratic Adequacy of Government Consultations. Oxford Journal of Legal Studies, 37 (3), 636–659. Mostafavi, M. (2010). Why Ecological Urbanism? Why Now? Harvard Design Magazine, 32. Ochrona drzew w procesach inwestycyjnych w miastach (inspection report). (2014). Najwy˙zsza Izba Kontroli—Supreme Chamber of Control of the Republic of Poland (SCoC). Offe, C. (1985). New Social Movements: Challenging the Boundaries of Institutional Politics. Social Research, 52(4), 817–868. Robbins, P. (2012). Political Ecology: A Critical Introduction. Chichester, West Sussex: Wiley. Sanders, J. C. (2008). The Battle for Fort Lawton: Competing Environmental Claims in Postwar Seattle. Pacific Historical Review, 77 (2), 203–236. Selvelli, G. (2016). Inscribing a New Space. Written Expressions of Utopia and Resistance During the Gezi Park Protests in Istanbul. Etnološka Tribina, 46 (39), 94–125. Sörlin, S. (2013). Preservation in the Age of Entanglement STS and the History of Future Urban Nature. In D. Jørgensen, F. A. Jørgensen, S. B. Pritchard, & K. C. Armitage (Eds.), New Natures: Joining Environmental History with Science and Technology Studies (pp. 212–224). Pittsburgh, PA: University of Pittsburgh Press. Swyngedouw, E. (2005). Urbanization and Environmental Futures: Politicizing Urban Political Ecologies. In T. A. Perreault, B. Gavin, & J. McCarthy (Eds.), Routledge Handbook of Political Ecology (pp. 609–619). Abingdon, Oxon: Routledge. Swyngedouw, E. (2006). Metabolic Urbanization: The Making of Cyborg Cities. In N. C. Heynen, M. Kaika, & E. Swyngedouw (Eds.), In the Nature of Cities: Urban Political Ecology and the Politics of Urban Metabolism (pp. 20–39). London: Routledge. Swyngedouw, E. (2009). The Antinomies of the Postpolitical City: In Search of a Democratic Politics of Environmental Production. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 33(3), 601–620.