Urbanus

Beyond a critical point within a finite space, freedom diminishes as numbers increase. This is as true of humans in the finite space of a planetary ecosystem as it is of gas molecules in a sealed flask. The human question is not how many can survive within the system, but what kind of existence is possible for those who do survive.

Frank Herbert, Dune


I recently discovered an "In Depth" feature on the BBC News website on the topic of Urbanisation. As someone with both a professional and personal interest in the design of the built human environment, I found the various articles to be good insight into what is going on in the rest of the world. I live in a city where new development is primarily achieved through surveying farmers' fields, bulldozing off the bulk of the existing ecosystem, and constructing many inefficient cookie-cutter boxes. As such, the greater part of my fight is to promote and support dense urban, walkable, transit-oriented communities. Many cities have shown that it is possible to do this in a very pleasant manner, perhaps most popularly exemplified by the City of Vancouver.

What is easy to forget is that this is really a 'lesser of two evils' solution. It makes the tacit assumption that population growth is inevitable. Obviously, maintaining a technological society requires cities - the word 'civilization' itself defines societies that build cities. But what is not so clear is how many cities, and of what size and density. However much our innovative and 'smart' designs may be sustainable, the hard reality is that our paradigm of endless growth is not. Sustainable design only serves to mitigate population pressure.

I could argue, on the basis of aesthetics, or happiness, or whatever subjective concept, that there are limits to what is acceptable in terms of city density, or the amount of 'countryside' remaining free. The problem is that these concepts are particularly sensitive to cultural values, never mind personal opinion. What I would argue, as Frank Herbert does above, is that something is lost in the process. Having been raised in an essentially rural community, I have felt first-hand the loss of freedoms inherent to high-density living, perhaps none more harshly than the curbs to creative expression.

I live in an apartment in a tower that I had no hand in designing, whose design I wouldn't understand if I weren't a civil engineer. I work in a cubicle whose layout, colours, and textures I can't change on a floor where I cannot breath fresh air. I have access to "public" park spaces, where I can see and touch trees and grass, but I can't interact with them in any creative manner. That's what it really comes down to - an inability to interact. I cannot interact creatively with the spaces that I live and work in. In our efforts to provide 'public' spaces for everyone, we have instead created cities that belong to no-one.

In some cases, you see an overt reaction to this restriction. Graffitti is an excellent example of such an expression of pent-up creativity. However, I would consider community gardens and farmers' markets to be similar expressions of the same urge. These reactions are the exception.

So it remains to be asked: What effects on the psychological health, happiness, and creative potential of human societies does such a restriction on creative interaction have?