What We See: Advancing the Observations of Jane Jacobs

By Greg

In 1962, a journalist wrote of Jane Jacobs, “She has made a career of chopping city planners and urban renewal experts … into small pieces, which she feeds to cats.” After the publication of her landmark book, The Death and Life of Great American Cities (Random House, 1961), and subsequent tour across the nation – where she excoriated the latest trends in urban planning – Jane Jacobs has never fallen victim to a lack of interest or attention.

Jacobs famously kept a low profile and seldom spoke about herself to journalists and would-be biographers. Yet, during her lifetime a number of books and an endless pool of articles featured the housewife from Greenwich Village and her approach to urbanism that valued street smarts and informed observation over expert analysis and the will of powerful bureaucrats.

Since her passing in 2006, several important books have come out about Jacobs’ life and work. Two notables, Anthony Flint’s Wrestling with Moses: How Jane Jacobs Took On New York’s Master Builder and Transformed the American City (Random House, 2009), and Roberta Brandes Gratz’s The Battle for Gotham: New York in the Shadow of Robert Moses and Jane Jacobs (Nation Books, 2010), recall Jacobs’ battle of ideas with New York’s urban development czar, memorializing a triumph of Vox populi and the value of the human city over the sterile, mega-scale ideas of the Corbusian Ville Radieuse.

Without a doubt, the implications of Jacobs’ ideas, gleaned from her New York experience and expressed so well in Death and Life, continue to influence much contemporary urban thought. It is for that very reason that What We See: Advancing the Observations of Jane Jacobs (New Village Press, 2010) resonates so powerfully. In the book, over 30 authors reflect – in short and readable chapters – on the modern relevance of Jacobs’ ideas, explaining how Jacobs’ work influenced their own. These are not all academics, architects or urban designers; far from it. These voices refreshingly reflect Jacobs’ own disdain for compartmentalization of disciplines, with chapters by a theater company founder, bloggers and journalists, community activists, and elected officials, as well as the expected thought leaders, professors, and practitioners.

What We See provides a clear picture of the broad range of Jacobs’ influence – focusing not just on her New York years, but on her more numerous Toronto years, and the significance of her other books, namely The Economy of Cities (Random House, 1969). Much of What We See connects Jacobs’ work with contemporary urban ideas, such as environmental sustainability and buying local. The authors trace Jacobs’ impact to places as diverse as Missoula, Toronto, Germany, and Mumbai, capturing the breadth of her ideas as well as a smattering of biographical reflections from those who knew her and learned directly from “Jane.” The book tries to do many things, and amazingly generally succeeds.

After a foreword by Michael Sorkin (former architecture critic for The Village Voice), the book’s editors, Stephen A. Goldsmith and Lynne Elizabeth, describe the volume’s main theme: “What we see is largely who we are and what we have learned to see. There is no such thing as an objective observer.” The book then unfolds in six sections, and some of its un-objective observers are very engaging.

In “Jane Jacobs and the “Battle for the Street,” journalist Ray Suarez lays out an excellent and concise discussion of urban renewal, focusing on the rift between intentions of building a better society and the reality of the destruction that it caused. Mindy Thompson Fullilove embarks on a fascinating exploration of the psychology of social disruption and violence, resulting from the events of urban renewal. She analyzes the impacts of America’s “catastrophic urban policies,” which contributed to conditions that can be better understood, she argues, by studying the psychology of Japanese internment camps, prisons, and other places with severe social isolation.

The 2008 recipient of the Jane Jacobs Medal, Alexie M. Torres-Fleming, recounts her parallel Jane Jacobs story. As a Latina in the Bronx, she worked from the grassroots to empower a violence-plagued and disenfranchised community to carry out a robust and successful resident-led planning process. While Jacobs’ own story is often characterized by efforts to kill proposed highways and stop the demolition of neighborhoods, Torres-Fleming talks about the value of rebuilding – of engaging communities in planning a bright future. She writes, “Communities are not just streets and buildings: they are the sacred spaces made up of living, breathing people whose hopes and dreams are wrapped up in those same streets and buildings. Planning can elevate or diminish that reality.”

Perhaps the most provocative piece is Matias Echanove and Rahul Srivastava’s “The Village Inside,” which profiles the Dharavi slum of Mumbai. They portray Dharavi as a place that exemplifies the essence of Jane Jacobs’ philosophy and progressive urban ideology – mixed-use, creative communities, with live-work spaces, and vibrant locally sustained economies. The authors note that like many disinvested American urban neighborhoods, Dharavi is looked down upon by the government, which seizes on its “messy and makeshift appearance” as a rationale for redevelopment. Yet, this informal settlement exemplifies models of sustainable development that are sought after in wealthy, industrial cities.

Another notable piece is by Jaime Lerner, the firebrand former Mayor of Curitiba, Brazil, who famously reclaimed his city for pedestrians. Lerner challenges urban leaders to take decisive steps to improve our urban places, and asserts in the spirit of Jane Jacobs, “The idea that action should only be taken after all the answers and the resources have been found is a sure recipe for paralysis.”

Several of the authors creatively extend Jacobs’ ideas to broader concepts. Pierre Desrochers and Samuli Leppälä discuss the economics of “Jacobs spillovers,” the phenomenon that results from “…individuals who move frequently between different lines of work and/or regularly borrow ideas from fields other than the one they are working in.” Roberta Brandes Gratz talks about Jacobs’ “web thinking,” focusing on the way that issues are interconnected, debunking the allure of simplistic arguments. In one example she writes, “Yes, more electric cars and hybrids will help clean the air we breathe, but it won’t do anything to tame traffic, minimize the amount of land devoted to blacktop, limit sprawl, regenerate pedestrian-oriented places, or rebuild communities.”

Ironically (or perhaps appropriately) the most interesting chapters are the ones that have the least to do with Jane Jacobs. Janine Benyus’ chapter on biomimicry, and economist Saskia Sassen’s chapter on the intersection of the knowledge economy and 21st-century urban industry focus on themes that are, in one sense, related to Jacobs’ overall message, but on a broader level represent entirely independent scholarship.

While many chapters are highly enjoyable, and a handful are gems, some are less successful – overly simplistic, semantic, or jargony to the point of being nearly unreadable. A few seem to completely miss the essence of Jacobs’ message, like Clare Cooper Marcus’ chapter that encourages developments with cul-de-sacs and “privacy ‘buffer[s]’ such as a fenced yard or patio.” One weak point of What We See is its failure to adequately discuss the complexity of the Jacobs’ legacy. A few authors note criticisms of Jacobs – like her praise of the forces that ultimately led her beloved Greenwich Village to become hypergentrified – but overall the book reads like a Jacobs lovefest. Still, with so many different voices, and so much of the volume inspired by (rather than about) Jacobs, it holds together and feels satisfying by the end.

The book concludes with a lovely epilogue by Mary Rowe, recounting her personal interaction with Jacobs over tea, discussing the recovery of New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. Jane tells her at one point, “You’re thinking like a bureaucrat. The people of New Orleans will decide what to do about their city – not you.” Thus, the book ends with Jacobs’ never-ending faith that communities will take care of themselves through grassroots, self-motivated, incremental progress – that top-down thinking can only do harm.

Yet this conclusion contrasts with the underlying message of many of the writers, who seem to believe that through innovation and a more accurate understanding of how cities really function (informed by Jacobs’ wisdom, of course), we can build healthier, more sustainable, more vital places for all kinds of people. It is a new, entrepreneurial, 21st-century outlook. Indeed, the true message of What We See is that we have a fresh generation of urban thought leaders who have learned from Jane Jacobs, but are intelligent, passionate, and innovative enough to develop their own ideas, messages, and strategies for action.

Jane Jacobs, Robert Moses, Affordable Housing, and Gentrification

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By Greg

For some time I have wanted to share my thoughts on a book that came out in 2009 called “Wrestling with Moses: How Jane Jacobs Took on New York’s Master Builder and Transformed the American City,” by Anthony Flint. The first thing worth noting is that Flint is not an academic. Rather he is the director of public affairs at a Cambridge-based think tank. The fact that Flint is involved in contemporary urban thought and policy is clear in the book. While it recounts historical events, Flint laces the book with references to modern ideas and events – tying the lessons of the past to the challenges and trends of the present and the future.

Most of us involved in urban development and planning are familiar with the work of Robert Moses and the way that Jane Jacobs contributed to permanently transforming the dialogue around urban redevelopment. This book provides a good refresher on the events surrounding several key “battles” in which Jacobs was involved in derailing urban renewal plans that Moses had a heavy hand in. For the general public who may not be familiar with this period of American urban history, Flint’s book is very accessible, recounting complex stories in a fairly concise (199 pages), engaging, and readable volume.

For folks who are already very familiar with these events, I urge you to read the book nonetheless, so you can get to the Epilogue. “Wrestling with Moses” is like a puzzle, selectively choosing elements out of the work of Jacobs and Moses, and building them together into a set of ideas that lay the groundwork for the Epilogue, which steps out of the historical and puts everything into its place in our modern context. By the end it is clear that the lessons the book brings to light are ones that are not just rooted in history, but that we need to address and discuss right now.

Flint spends a few pages explaining how profoundly Jane Jacobs shaped contemporary urban thought. He credits Jacobs’ work with a generation of “freeway revolts,” leading to halted highway projects and, more recently, highways torn down in cities across the U.S. Flint explains that “a new generation of citizen activists” saw Jacobs as “a kind of folk hero.” He recounts how professional organizations like the American Planning Association are incorporating Jacobs’ ideas into their core tenets. He discusses how her ideas influenced areas outside but related to planning, like crime prevention through environmental design.

Flint even goes beyond the planning profession (making a bit of a stretch, in my opinion) stating that “Everything from the design of workplaces to social media—the online networks of Facebook, YouTube, and open-source software—owes a debt to Jacobs and her original analysis of how decentralized, diverse, and ground-up systems function best.” He frames Jacobs as one of the seminal figures in American history leading to our current ideas about grassroots democracy.

Flint does not take the time to similarly clarify Moses’ contributions, perhaps because Moses’ work remains so obvious in physical development projects. Still, Flint points out that there has been some recent commentary on the need for a balanced philosophy that merges the best of Jacobs and Moses – the importance of investing in major infrastructure and also in community development and the human side of the city. He cites New York Times architecture critic Nicolai Ouroussoff, who wrote “A city, to survive and flourish, needs both perspectives.”

Doubtless, Jane Jacobs played an important role in asserting a mandate for citizen participation in urban planning and development, and for creating a methodology whereby organized citizens can successfully fight powerful government and private-sector actors. There is something so essentially American about the notion of people in a neighborhood rising up in their own best interest and fighting City Hall.

Yet, it is too easy to frame this story as one of a dictatorial Moses trying to impose his will over the defenseless citizens. To his credit, Flint does not quite tell the story this way. While Moses was a powerful public official and Jacobs was a Greenwich Village housewife, the title of the book indicates that the battle between them was not one-sided. One blogger remarks on this point “Flint’s book really isn’t about planning. It’s about power. Pure and simple. … No question, Moses was a bully. But so, in her way, was Jacobs.”

Jacobs became a role model for active citizens, showing how they could put the kibosh on just about any development they did not like. While Jacobs’ own ideology was more multi-faceted, Flint acknowledges, “… the kind of thoughtful citizen involvement Jacobs envisioned has evolved into mere NIMBYism—the protest of ‘not in my backyard.’” Today, with very little federal money going into urban redevelopment, and generations of citizens studying Jane Jacobs and her followers, public and private actors across the nation often struggle to get any major projects built. Jane Jacobs wrote about a proactive view of urban development, but she practiced a reactive one that now shapes our urban context perhaps as profoundly as urban renewal did fifty years ago.

On the flip side, public-sector administrators in the urban renewal era of the 1950s and 1960s focused on affordable housing as a critical goal. The problem was the reliance on modernist, high-rise towers as the template for how to best house the poor. Jacobs was a critic of this type of housing, and today, urbanists universally acknowledge that this architectural and planning decision was misguided.

However, we often bundle the urban renewal together, rather than looking at the diversity of ideas that emerged from the public sector in this period. Not all affordable housing of the era was built this way. For example, in Philadelphia’s Germantown section, a significant amount of affordable housing was produced through historic rehabilitation, while the fabric of the neighborhood was restored around it with infill development. Jane Jacobs loved this approach, on one trip to Philadelphia admiring how “intermingled with the new, were old buildings, which were being restored, and corner stores.”

Perhaps more important than recognizing the diversity of approaches in the urban renewal period is the overall concept of what the public sector was trying to do. What receives far less attention is the basic notion that a generation of public officials were trying to figure out how to build a significant amount of housing for the poor. Some of that housing got built, but much did not. Today we are seeing the consequences of not building nearly enough.

Urban America went through a racially explosive period in the 1960s, and then an overall era of decline in the 1970s. New York famously was on the brink of bankruptcy. However, the 1990s saw the start of a new resurgence of interest in urban living, and today a number of U.S. cities are booming, while many others are steadily climbing back. As Flint explains, in places like New York, “urban neighborhoods have become so wildly popular that only the wealthy—and predominantly white—can afford to live there.” Flint continues, “Jacobs was convinced that the city was the best possible place for people to live, and in many ways gentrification proved her right.”

Jane Jacobs’ writings and persona have become a major force in re-defining the city as a livable place for middle-class working professionals. However, this same philosophy arguably laid the groundwork for the hyper-gentrification of many urban areas, and the pricing out of the individuals and businesses that created the diversity that initially attracted her to Greenwich Village — the same diversity that attracts so many city lovers to urban neighborhoods across the U.S. today. Now there is even such a strong image of thriving, upscale urbanism that whole cities and parts of cities are practically devoid of economic diversity. Jane Jacobs, personally, was in favor of affordable housing, but the public sector that she vilified was for affordable housing too – and on a much larger scale. We often forget this.

In his book, Anthony Flint retells the story of the interaction between two figure who significantly shaped our contemporary urban issues of redevelopment, affordable housing, gentrification, the need for infrastructure, and the role of citizen participants. He concludes with an Epilogue that ties these historical events to modern-day challenges, and leaves us with a number of unanswered questions. The story of Jane Jacobs and Robert Moses is not about good and evil, but about the complexity of solving urban problems. The major question is: can we learn from the urban renewal era and apply its lessons to a contemporary world that is so different, and at the same time so much unchanged?