Cities have become a cause celebre among urbanists the world
over, scaling ever new heights of hyperbole in industry and political
adulation. The management and planning of cities – once left largely to market
forces – is now recognised as a field of specialist expertise, requiring extensive
regulatory intervention. This has spawned the global careers of any number of
speakers whose main job, it seems, is to lecture rapturous audiences of city
planners, developers, political and policy leaders on the best ways to manage and
grow their cities for sustainability, liveability and resilience, among other
things.
The language of cities and their management has similarly
evolved in recent history. No longer does city management mean a local
government focus primarily on “rates, roads, and rubbish” – cities are now
described as “complex ecosystems” or “living organisms” with a “metabolism” all
of their own. Some of them are “smart” and “intelligent” and all of them we are
told – like a collection of fine arts – need to be carefully “curated.”
Urban design and city management is accordingly becoming
more meticulously studied, planned and stage-managed than ever before. Spurred
on by forecasts that half the world’s population will soon be living in cities
(mostly - as it turns out - in the suburbs of those cities) the pressure is on
for city planners to deliver growth without sacrificing amenity or delivering
lower standards of living or quality of life than previous generations. This is
a challenge of Sisyphean proportions.
Ironically however, many of the qualities of cities and the
celebrated places within them now enjoyed by many were not the result of
carefully managed or planned urban development, but accidents of history. 18th
and 19th Century urban growth in the US, Europe and Australia
revolved around industry – well described in Eric Hobsbawn’s classic “Industry
and Empire.” Rivers were for the transport of goods to cities where
wharves were constructed and where factories sprung up. Rail was mainly (in
many centres) for freight. Power stations, goods yards and industrial lands
were developed around these transport connections. Workers lived in cramped and
unhealthy conditions close to these places of industrial employment because
their form of commuting was mostly walking or - if lucky - by austere and
perfunctory public transport.
While no city experienced the same patterns of growth or the
same economic drivers, many did enter the 20th century with legacies of their
past in the form of housing, industrial, administrative and transport systems
which were largely developed without the careful supervision of today’s modern
urban planner. Post-war prosperity in the mid-20th Century heralded for many
the move away from cramped inner-city housing to new, expansive and healthier
suburban domains. Older style industries and work practices changed, many
moving to newer transport facilities such as modern seaports, airports and
intermodals, or to other more convenient locations. Some shut down altogether: the
collateral damage of industrial and technological change.
Both residents and businesses left behind a legacy of mostly
accidental urban development. And ironically, it’s that very accidental quality
of urban development and built form heritage which many cities now seek to
protect - through various preservation laws, via support of adaptive re-use
(finding new ways to use old buildings designed for a different purpose
altogether), or via attempts to emulate that accidental quality in prescribed
regulation.
There is a paradox in this. It was the very lack of
regulation that helped make many places or buildings or urban features worthy
of preservation. Think of the inner-city
terrace houses of Sydney, Australia, once home to the working poor. Or the
timber and tin workers’ cottages of Brisbane, Australia – built from the only
readily available (and low cost) materials at the time. These are now highly
prized – not just for their location but also their typology and heritage
qualities.
A similar story can be told in many cities which now
celebrate converted warehouses, factories, hospitals, ports, and even power
stations. These structures weren’t the result of careful planning but originally
designed and located out of necessity and opportunity. Many are now prized
community assets, accommodating entirely different activities to their original
design.
Similarly, in modern cities there are places that are
praised as clusters of cultural, ethnic, social, artistic or community value.
Places where people gather willingly, but in way that wasn’t planned - it just
‘happened.’ Think of the haphazard laneways of Melbourne’s inner city or the
many cultural, food or entertainment centres which have sprung up not because
they were planned, nor were they encouraged, but because they escaped the
watchful eye of regulators or over-zealous inspectors. Having secured their
place in the life of the city (by virtue of their popularity), their “accidental”
existence isn’t just condoned but celebrated. The same can’t be said for the
carefully managed environments of the modern shopping mall which - although commercially
successful - are unlikely to ever reach the same levels of community adulation
or sentiment.
Could a rule book of building codes, access, regulatory and
other permissions foster planned urban creativity in the same way as the
accidental outcomes? Perhaps not. The work of the artist Banksy isn’t legal or
officially sanctioned. But his works are highly prized. They are accidents of
urban life incapable of official emulation of recreation. There’s only one
Banksy.
None of this is to suggest that a well-managed urban
environment can’t be “curated” to support a range of positive urban outcomes.
Modern urban planning is fast evolving and many technologies in particular are
giving urban planners and city managers new, highly advanced tools to
understand how the community uses their urban spaces, and how to design places
for even more positive outcomes. Nor does it suggest that the absence of
regulation is the answer to anything. Unregulated urban development in the
manner that early cities developed would invariably lead to regrettable
outcomes – environmentally, socially and economically.
But we need to remind ourselves of the limits of regulation
and prescription. There are forces at work which in the evolution of cities
that can still be left to accident, by ensuring we don’t become overly
prescriptive.
“Accidental cities” is used in some quarters as a derogatory
term or as a tale of caution. Failing to meticulously plan every detail, we are
warned, leads to inefficiencies and to cities not performing at their peak. But
leaving room for accidents is also important. The surprise start-up hub. The surprise
retail success story working from a location no one thought credible. The
artists, foodies, businesses and industries adapting faster to new technologies
than any set of planning regulations could possibly keep pace with.
There is a difference between the real and the
reconstituted. We can tell the difference, without really thinking about it.
For cities to remain real, it could be wise to recognise the limits of their
“curation” at the hands of experts. There are places beyond the reach of
regulatory control where accidents could – and should – be encouraged to continue
to happen.
Very true, the much loved Gerbinos Italian Patisserie on Ashgrove Ave, with no off street parking, but much loved by tradies and sales reps popping in in their runs couldn't happen under current town planning rules
ReplyDeleteYou starting your career as a "Bill Bryson"?
ReplyDeleteHi Ross - marvellous insight as always. Through planning regulation and over-prescription, you cannot now build or re-build a warehouse in large parts of Rocklea, Brisbane, an industrial zone since the 1970's.
ReplyDelete