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  The Help-Yourself City

  THE HELP-YOURSELF CITY

  Legitimacy and Inequality in DIY Urbanism

  Gordon C.C. Douglas

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  Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press 198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America.

  © Oxford University Press 2018

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  You must not circulate this work in any other form and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Douglas, Gordon C. C., author.

  Title: The help-yourself city : Legitimacy and Inequality in DIY Urbanism /

  Gordon C.C. Douglas.

  Description: New York, NY : Oxford University Press, [2018] |

  Includes bibliographical references.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2017013747| ISBN 9780190691325 (pbk.) |

  ISBN 9780190691332 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780190691356 (updf) |

  ISBN 9780190691363 (epub)

  Subjects: LCSH: City planning-Citizen participation. | Community development.

  Classification: LCC HT166 .D66424 2018 | DDC 307.1/216-dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017013747

  To my parents, for making it all possible.

  To Emily, for making it all infinitely better.

  To Isla and Oolina, for making it all worth it.

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgments

  1 Introduction

  2 Constructive Deviance: What Is DIY Urban Design? And What Is It Not?

  3 Individualizing Civic Responsibility: DIY Urban Design in the Help-Yourself City

  4 “I’m an Expert on Public Space”: Professional Knowledge at Work in DIY Urbanism

  5 The Spatial Reproduction of Inequality: Social Privilege and Hubris in Creative Transgression

  6 Pop-Up Planning: From Park(ing) Day to Parklet Dining, DIY Goes Official

  7 Conclusions: Inequality, Legitimacy, and the Momentary Potential of Participation

  Appendix 1 List of All Projects in the Study for Which Interviews Were Conducted

  Appendix 2 Research Design and Methodology

  Notes

  Bibliography

  Index

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Like all books, and especially works of ethnographic and interview-based social science, this book owes its very existence to an enormous number of people. It’s hard to know where to start; it’s almost tempting to try to construct a table of the sort that collects all my interviewees here. Indeed, every name in that list of interviewees would also appear in a new table of thanks! So, I’ll start with them.

  My sincere and heartfelt thanks go to the do-it-yourself urbanists and planning and design professionals with whom I spoke, and everyone else who participated in my research. From anonymous sign-makers to well-known (and in-demand) public figures, the individuals who took time out of their days to speak with me, despite concerns about the nature of their activities or their jobs, are very literally the heart and soul of this project. These pages are filled with their exciting and innovative ideas—some of which I have rather ignobly picked apart or used as less than admirable examples—and the study would have been inconceivable without them. If I am wary of the intentions or impacts of some interventions, the truth is I am filled with hope for their potential and for the dynamism that they represent. And I’m heartened to reflect on just how many of these inspiring people have become my friends.

  Next, while I have been deeply privileged to spend so much of my life learning in formal educational settings, to equate learning, knowledge, even scholarship only with schooling is to undervalue the essential role of family and community in these things. I can say with certainty that I would not be where I am without the unflinching support of my parents, Kathy and Gordon Douglas. They have tirelessly nurtured my curiosity and encouraged my passions, academic and otherwise. They retired from fulfilling and inspirational careers just as I in many ways began my own (this coincidence is a fun side effect of having spent three decades in school), and it became only clearer to me how much I owe my parents for showing me how life ought to be lived, not to mention how to pass that on to a child. Academia can be an all-consuming occupation, yet my dad exemplifies balance across his passions as not only a committed scientist but also a loving father, voracious traveler, and ceaseless creator of beautiful things. My mom instilled in me creativity, imagination, and persistent inquisitiveness as foundational values and remains a wellspring of love and guidance to me and now to my children. My parents set me on my path and have emboldened me along it every step of the way. (They also chose to raise me in a richly intellectual, communitarian, and urban design-obsessed college town, which probably has something to do with this book too.)

  If my parents set me on the path to my academic career, it is my friends who have actually kept me on it against doubts and obstacles, while helping keep everything in perspective. Over beers and long journeys, on balconies, rooftops, and bike rides, they encouraged and validated my pursuits and critiqued, prodded, debated, and improved my work. You guys. You are brilliant and passionate and if what I’m doing doesn’t matter to you then it doesn’t matter. Anyone who knows me knows how strongly I believe that scientific research, and especially social science, must speak to people beyond the academic paywall. My friends—in California, in New York, and in kick-ass towns and cities all over the map—are that critical audience; they keep me honest and ask the toughest questions, and I have tried to write this with them in mind.

  The same goes for the rest of my family. My brother Alex and his wife, Abby, are models for living well, with conscience and without pretentiousness. My second set of parents, Jon and Susan Art, have done more for me than many people could hope for from their own parents and made Chicago home. Steve, Julia, Chris, and Hannah likewise welcomed me into a growing family without a moment’s hesitation. Extended families around the United States and the United Kingdom have all taken me in, often at the dear cost of having to listen to a considerable volume of babble about urban inequality, the contradictions of hipster culture, and amateur architectural criticism. Each of these people sets a standard for love and generosity, and I am so grateful for their unconditional support.

  Of course, as foundational as these informal role models are, after nearly three decades in the classroom you’re going to have had some pretty important formal teachers too. I was fortunate to have the opportunity to learn from a series of exceptionally motivating, inspiring, and challenging individuals, all of whose impacts are felt in the pages of this book. David Andrus, Steven Lamy, and Geoffrey Cowan at the University of Southern California taught me not only to be a scholar but also to be a critical one. At the London School of Economics, I first met Saskia Sassen and Ed Soja, luminous thinkers who offered their generously sincere interest in my ideas and turned a half-interested student of globalization into an insatiable student of cities, space, and urban culture. This process continued back a
t USC Annenberg under the inspiring tutelage of Manuel Castells and Christopher Holmes Smith, who nurtured kernels of ideas that are now very present here.

  By the time I arrived at the University of Chicago, I was primed to seek out and connect the dots between the thinking of geographer Michael Conzen on “reading the city as a cultural text” and the artist Theaster Gates on “intervention and public practice,” and of course numerous influential sociologists. I had never even taken a sociology class before arriving at Chicago, but thoughtful teachers like Lis Clemens and Andreas Glaeser quickly inspired a love for the discipline. Terry Clark, Omar McRoberts, and Richard Taub shaped my love for urban sociology. These names read like a greatest hits list of the sort of research I hope to contribute to. I am incredibly fortunate to count them all not only as inspirations but also as mentors and friends. All influenced me greatly.

  And then, there is the study itself that became this book. My sincerest thanks to my dissertation committee: Mario Luis Small, Andrew Abbott, and Kristen Schilt. Throughout my seven years under Mario’s tutelage at Chicago, his always tough but highly generative questioning made me think and work harder than I ever had before. Andy draws out new connections and insights for the project every time we discuss it, while never ceasing to offer a graceful reminder that the life of the mind is a noble and joyful one. Kristen has provided ceaseless enthusiasm for my research and demonstrated a catholic approach to the study of culture and subculture that gave me courage to pursue my topic at UofC in the first place. This study is immeasurably stronger for all of their involvement and to them I am forever grateful.

  The dissertation began its transformation into a book at New York University’s Institute for Public Knowledge, where Eric Klinenberg generously supported my work while encouraging my engagement with new research as well. Eric also provided the best example of what it means to be a public sociologist—a serious scholar with a popular impact on issues of real importance to cities and communities. This also describes my friend Gianpaolo Baiocchi, a passionately committed activist scholar at NYU and always a ready ear on topics of both work and life, who also offered valuable comments on the manuscript.

  My new colleagues at San José State University were likewise instrumental. Their sincere enthusiasm and astute local connections for my research have helped me to place it back in Northern California and in the world of academic planning. Their accommodation of my family and me in my first year after joining the department was incredibly supportive, and made it possible for me to finish the book. And I am thrilled to be in the company of so many others who share my feeling that academic pursuits are worth little if they do not connect to real life and at least try to improve it. I am thrilled to call SJSU home.

  My sincere gratitude also to James Cook at Oxford University Press for his quick enthusiasm for this book and for maintaining that enthusiasm over time, despite having many more important things going on! He gave superb advice that made this a far better book, while allowing me to write the book I dreamed of writing. Believing in a first-time author’s hopes for producing a (slightly) more accessible and relevant work of urban studies is something of a leap of faith, I suspect, and I owe him for taking it with gusto.

  Innumerable others aided in the project in some way or another. In Los Angeles, the indomitable Serafina Costanza and Andy Rybicki provided, as ever, a welcoming home away from home on multiple occasions, sometimes for weeks at a time. John Pick lent a crucial bicycle; James Rojas, Steve Cancian, and Father David O’Connell—all interviewees—even drove me around, as did many friends. In Vancouver, Ryan and Naomi McCormick played host and found bikes. Sarah Clifford did the same in New Orleans, where Carey Clouse also put me up and spent hours driving me around the city. Ramona Corey, Shaun Slifer, and John Givens and Debra Lam all opened their homes to me multiple times in Pittsburgh, as did Dan Huebner and Bob Wiley in Baltimore, Oli and Davina Bird in London, and Justin and Becky Alarcon in Oakland. Christopher Art and the Isla Urbana project helped fund my time in Mexico City, where Jimena Veloz and Oscar Montiel showed me around the metropolis by bicycle and found me a couch to crash on. Wonderful people like these hosted me and sometimes my whole family time after time. I also want to thank Cathy Lang Ho, Anne Guiney, and everyone involved in Spontaneous Interventions for the opportunity to connect my research with the exhibition and all of its amazing participants.

  Brian Cody, Jan Doering, Lizzy Kate Gray, Dan Huebner, Naomi McCormick, Abi Ocobock, Danielle Raudenbush, Michaela Soyer, Chris Takacs, and Alicia VandeVusse—all members at one point or another of the University of Chicago’s finest diasporic international virtual writing group—provided invaluable feedback and camaraderie throughout the writing process. So too did members of the workshops on Social Theory and Evidence and City, Society and Space at the University of Chicago, the Politics and Protest Workshop at the City University of New York, and the NYLON Workshop at NYU. Special thanks in particular to Chad Borkenhagen, Daniel Aldana Cohen, Ugo Corte, Francesco Findeisen, David Grazian, Max Holleran, Brian Hracs, Liz Koslov, Jeffrey Parker, Michael Seman, and Richard Sennett for constructive input over the years. Siera Dissmore, Matt Wolfe, Sophie Ouahbi, Josh Jelly Schapiro, Garnette Cadogan, Sophie Gonick, Tom Sugrue, Ingrid Ellen, Becky Amato, Eric Banks, Gwynneth Malin, Simeon Hutner, Judith Helfand, Eyal Press, Lawrence Weschler, and many other colleagues at NYU all have my deep gratitude for insightful conversations about the project and support during the writing process. Many thanks also to Linnea Martin at the University of Chicago, and with her countless other incredibly knowledgeable and hardworking university staff members who help students and faculty immeasurably every single day for far too little credit.

  More than anything, this entire endeavor was made possible by my partner, Emily Art. In addition to keeping us financially stable while I lived a life of travel, flâneurie, and academic dragon-chasing, Emily has been a rock of companionship, emotional support, and critical insight. She did all the hardest work in bringing our daughters Isla and Oolina into the world during the several years over which a dissertation was finished only to be wholly reengaged as a book, and has been a faithful hand-holder, whip-cracker, and cheerleader through it all. She also read every single chapter multiple times, clarified hundreds of thoughts and run-on sentences, and at one point copy-edited line-by-line. All this while working long hours to actually make life better for thousands of students and their teachers. The book has vastly improved as a result of her help, and our family’s lives are vastly improved by her presence and love. And Isla and Oona, who went from mere thoughts to the singing, dancing, running, smiling reasons to live that they are today, were right by my side in our small apartment the whole way. Thanks, goons.

  Some of the research and findings described in this book found the light of day in two academic journal articles. Much of Chapter 2, in particular, appeared in earlier form in my article “Do-It-Yourself Urban Design: The Social Practice of Informal ‘Improvement’ through Unauthorized Alteration” in City & Community (Douglas 2014). (Thanks go to Hilary Silver for her enthusiasm for the research!) Some of my writing about the presence of technical and scholarly knowledge in DIY urbanism (e.g., in Chapter 4) was first published in the Journal of Urbanism in a piece called “The Formalities of Informal Improvement: Technical and Scholarly Knowledge at Work in DIY Urban Design” (Douglas 2016). I also presented earlier versions of these results at annual meetings of the American Sociological Association, the Association of American Geographers, the Royal Geographical Society, the Urban Affairs Association, the Chicago Ethnography Conference, and the Exploring the Creative Economy Conference at Toronto’s Martin Prosperity Institute.

  I took most of the photos in the book, but any and all of the images by other photographers that are included here are used with their expressed permission, for which I am extremely grateful. Please see the image captions for photo credits throughout. (Also, more of my own photos of DIY urbanism can be found on my website.) The same goes for any
errors contained herein: I certainly made most of them too.

  The Help-Yourself City

  1

  Introduction

  New York’s Hell Gate Bridge is a monument to the sheer scale of urban infrastructure and regional planning. Spanning part of the East River between Queens and Wards Island, it was the world’s longest steel-arch bridge when it opened in 1916 and the centerpiece of a 3.2-mile complex of viaducts that, in connecting the Pennsylvania Railroad through New York City to New England, provided uninterrupted rail service between Boston and Washington for the first time. It was more than two decades from conception to completion, a result of multiple design iterations and innovations by the engineer Gustav Lindenthal and several other giants of bridge-building. These men were supported by an engineering staff of 95 and, during construction, hundreds of workers every day. The final design involved calculations that had never been applied in practice, inspiring great interest and voluminous reporting on its achievements, producing what can rightly be described as scientific progress.1 And the bridge itself was truly a marvel of engineering practice: heaped with redundancies of strength and capacity to anticipate heavy train traffic, yet so precisely designed that when its two independently constructed halves were brought together by hydraulic lifts, the connection required adjustments of a mere five-sixteenths of an inch. Nonetheless, by the late 1980s the Hell Gate Bridge had gained a reputation for dropping crumbling steel and concrete onto underlying homes. A hard-won repainting in 1992 was, with the exception of plentiful graffiti, the first in some 60 years. And, in 2009, a section of the railroad viaduct was leaking.

  The leak, from a pipe under the viaduct crossing 33rd Street in Queens, was probably not the biggest of concerns for the indefatigable bridge itself (in fact, it has been noted that if humans suddenly disappeared from New York City, the Hell Gate could stand a thousand years without maintenance, twice outlasting any other East River bridge). But for passersby in the middle-class Astoria neighborhood, forced to circumnavigate the strangely colored and at times dangerously slippery effluence, it had been a daily obstacle for more than two decades. To some, in fact, the drainage oozing across the sidewalk amounted to what they called the Scum River—a “river” that two locals decided ought to have a bridge of its own.