This piece was originally posted on the polis blog.

In lieu of the recent publicity of the Jugaad Urbanism exhibition it is hard for those of us who frequent South Asia not to chuckle at the incredible ingenuity that every visitor observes in the households, businesses and corners of cities and villages across the subcontinent. ‘Jugaad’, which is a Hindi word referring to an ‘innovative fix’, can be seen throughout Indian streetscapes in various capacities, from shanty houses held together with large Bollywood billboard posters to creatively rigged vehicles that carry goods and people down the main road. While the term and its associated practice may be comical for outsiders, those who are well experienced in jugaad are held in good regard by their peers.



It isn’t difficult to locate an example of the infamous ‘quick fix’ in almost any average Indian business or household. Power connections may be fused and held together in a tangle of knots, while a truck may be assembled out of an old horse cart and a salvaged motor. In most instances the solutions are incredibly clever and useful, while in other cases they can border on the side of ‘life threatening’. In any event, jugaad is a widespread practice across India and a useful skill to harness, considering the social circumstances.

Cities are exciting. They allow us to imagine, hope, dream, and realize. They also present us with oppression, struggle and complexity, but tend to provide those of us who are lucky with countless opportunities. In my travels to cities around the world I’ve always managed to keep one particular place in my heart that exemplifies all of these things: my birthplace, Toronto.

Toronto shares many attributes with other North American cities - its scale and layout resemble similar urban fabrics of postwar-maturing cities around the continent. And yet Toronto holds a distinct identity of its own, playing host to a particular aura of Canadiana that is difficult to define, and yet noticeably present. There is an unavoidable sense of politeness and solidarity mixed in with a flavour of multicultural fusion and a family of chique high streets. The city hosts a flourishing artisan community with a distinct love for music. For those of us who have lived in larger, more anonymous cities like London, Tokyo or New York, you can’t help but feel as though Toronto is just big enough to give you access to what you want, all the while being small enough to maintain its strong sense of community.

Transforming Battersea Power Station

The death of Fulton Mall, Brooklyn? Original article from Alex Schafran.

This article was first published on The Polis Blog and has since been distributed through several other online outlets.

In my recent readings I’ve come across a growing pile of fascinating articles on the city. Blogs and social networks have allowed us to access information from the furthest corners of the globe, and now both you and I can read about the latest development plans in New York before glancing at the progress of slum redevelopments in India or South Africa. With the ‘Rise of the Network Society’ we have seen an unprecedented exchange of knowledge across social, political and cultural boundaries. The growing breadth of writing on urban space and the people that live within it is a testament to this exchange of knowledge, and more subliminally, a commentary on the inspirational qualities that cities have sketched onto a growing number of writers.



This free-flowing arena of knowledge is comprised of different people from different places, each one holding an identity with an institution, collective, household, bedroom desk or table at a cafe. Some are practitioners while others are creators of knowledge and theory. Others simply wish for their opinions to be heard, or for their social concerns to be echoed to larger local and international audiences. These writers have formed an ‘urban society of intellectuals’ that share their deepest of thoughts and concerns with the public; an audience that has become increasingly interested in the functionality and development of their own cities and other cities around the world.

This ‘urban society of intellectuals’ may choose to engage with ‘specialized producers’ of knowledge, whether it be at a conference or through an appraisal of academic writing. These ‘specialized producers’, the elite experts on the city, may choose to participate in the conversations of this larger urban society, offering personal insights and challenges as they see fit. However, these elites play a more integral role in city-building, as they are called upon to investigate the concerns of practitioners and publics, advising governments and businesses on long-term strategies and solutions while taking part in a constant self-criticising process of reflection and refinement. This elite knowledge is produced with rigor. It has been peer-reviewed and therefore it will stand the test of time in academic circles. This gives it the credibility it needs in order for it to be used in practice.  But is all of this incredibly well-formulated, well-researched work actually consumed by anyone in this new ‘urban society’? For that matter, is it actually used in practice?

In the increasingly globalised economic climate, Mumbai, along with many other cities in South Asia, has taken on the ‘world city’ agenda, in aspiring to generate greater foreign investment and higher international economic status (Shatkin, 2007). The economic growth discourse packaged with increasing population sets Mumbai’s development agenda on an increasingly fast course. 

There are, however, major complications in regards to development patterns within Mumbai. Although development is legally directed through a traditional hierarchy of government agencies, corruption and widespread poverty have led to irregularities and unorganised illegal developments (Patel et al., 2002). Non-transparent land-use laws provide opportunities for bureaucrats to partake in shady dealings with developers, many of which are tied to criminal organisations (Weinstein, 2008). The 1990’s compounded this problem with an underground agenda of development, where local mafias entered the domain of real-estate construction through illegal land acquisition and bribes (Weinstein, 2008). After years of establishing themselves in the lucrative land development industry, government has developed a dependency on these groups to carry out basic development objectives (Weinstein, 2008).

Perhaps the most interesting pattern has been the ultimate successes of these criminal organisations to monopolise on the local development agenda. As Weinstein (2008) has established, it is in fact the globalisation agenda and the proliferation of global crime networks that have led much of the current development within Mumbai. Interestingly enough, the identifiable TCC that has emerged within Mumbai is associated with what Weinstein (2008) calls ‘organised crime groups’ (OCGs).

In the latest attempt to exert Canada’s claim to its northern lands and waters, Canada’s Prime Minister, Stephen Harper, has completed a five-day tour through several northern communities. In an era of speculative resource economics, flexing one’s sovereign muscle in the contested North has become more of an issue of economic security than that of militaristic advantage or nationalism. Harper’s latest trip to the North has reopened an age-old conversation that has existed in one form or another since the Hudson’s Bay Company took its root almost 350 years ago.

Sitting beneath the debate on what Canada’s future will hold for the North are the citizens that have lived, worked, and struggled in the demanding climate, unstable economy, and socially chaotic communities that scatter the country’s vast and mostly empty northern territories.

In a bid to bolster northern support, Harper’s trip focused on the generation of jobs through the exploitation of Canada’s enormous and largely untouched natural resources. Alongside hard sovereign measures to increase military presence in the region, the Conservative government has proposed that a series of new natural resource maps will ‘boost arctic sovereignty’. Although this has left Albertan oil barons ecstatic, individuals who live in the North are less sure of the implications of such exploration. 

I find myself once again travelling through the Canadian North, currently visiting the town of Fort Smith, which is located along the 60th parallel north. The talk of the town has been centred on a controversial study that was released yesterday, confirming that Oilsands mining has been linked to high levels of toxic pollutants in the nearby Athabasca River. Local citizens, First Nations & Inuit communities, and transient workers are all too aware of the implications of the findings, as much of the local economy relies heavily on the health of the local environment. 

Naturally, Harper’s agenda sits heavily on communities like Fort Smith. With many downstream northern residents already dealing with inconsistent health problems potentially related to Oilsands mining, the idea of further oil-related development is accompanied by great concern. Bringing economic development and prosperity to the North is something that many residents welcome, but few have faith that their interests are being considered. 

At noon today, somewhat to my surprise, Canada’s progressive New Democratic Party (NDP) leader, Jack Layton, arrived to a warm northern welcome in Forth Smith. I had the opportunity to meet Mr. Layton and the Western Arctic NDP MP, Dennis Bevington.

Here is a fascinating video entitled the ‘Augmented City 3D’ by Keiichi Matsuda, shared by Ali Madad. ’The architecture of the contemporary city is no longer simply about the physical space of buildings and landscape, more and more it is about the synthetic spaces created by the digital information that we collect, consume and organise; an immersive interface may become as much part of the world we inhabit as the buildings around us.’

As I prepare to head off on an adventure tomorrow morning, I find it appropriate to repost this article that I wrote several months ago for thepolisblog. This trip will aid in illustrating the pluralism associated with Northern living, where accessibility follows winter, and seclusion emerges with the summer thaw. 

Recent headlines have captivated governments and northern communities around the Arctic Ocean as word of ongoing military surveillance missions has rekindled images from a Cold War pastime. Increasingly, it seems as though the world’s northern nations have re-entered into an era of resounding tension, exercising tools of soft power in order to stake their respective claim to the north. This comes at a time when an ever-growing interest in arctic resources has emerged as a focal point for politicians, oil-barons, and development financiers. The Arctic itself has become the latest victim in the growing dialogue on ‘contested space’.

Amidst a relatively uncertain era of Canadian politics, the national response has been to increase the emphasis on northern development, both economic and ‘social’. But what exactly does this type of development entail? What are the repercussions?

Compact cities are defined as high-density mixed-use developments, where care is taken to maximize the efficient use of land while intensifying activity in urban areas.  In the historical context, this style of urban form was dominant for the simple reality of transportation (i.e. pedestrian traffic).  It is evident that densities in developing countries are significantly higher than those in the developed world, however explanations for their ‘compactness’ have little to do with planning or design.  They may be rooted in basic issues of accessibility (namely to alternative modes of transport, either private or public), or in the rapid growth of population, but nevertheless there is an element of ‘spontaneity’ in their creation.  Regardless of causation, the dominant contemporary compact form provides some clear opportunities in promoting the ideas of the compact city.

A great problem facing the developed world in the context of the compact city is the current infrastructure and urban fabric. Much of the damage, per-se, has already been done in the form of vast low-density suburban developments and road construction. The reversal of such development introduces a number of complicated challenges, both socially and physically.  In drawing upon the elementary characteristics of the compact city, the existence of such urban form in the developing world provides a great advantage for sustainability initiatives within local urban centres.  This, along with the shear magnitude in terms of population, offers a great scope of impact within the developing world city context.

The compact city narrative includes a great deal of discussion on sociology, economics, and environmentalism, all of which play a fundamental role in the sustainability paradigm. There are, perhaps, two clear areas of interest; firstly, the premise of the compact city provides insight into the effective management of resource consumption and allocation in an era where the uncertain price of commodities is proving to be of great concern; secondly, the tensions of social, economic, and environmental interests contribute to a formidable implementation agenda of compact city concepts.  In simply evaluating the potential for success and improvement, the compact city model does provide a programme where sustainability, with some inevitable difficulty, can provide a built environment where social, economic and environmental integrity can be pursued. The alternative suburban spatial arrangements are proving to be too costly to our environment.

Ultimately, the popularised compact city argument sits somewhere between two realities, one where success is determined by personal economic and social achievements, and the other where environmental truth suggests that the former is a contemporary mirage where ignorance is bliss.