2014 Shaping the Future of New York Fridays: 11:00-1:45 Boylan Hall, 2231

David Stuckler and Sanjay Basu’s work, The Body Economic, is the latest reading that attempts to tear away the wool covering–or more accurately, enswathing—our eyes. The crux of their argument, at least according to my understanding, is the idea that by adopting strict measures of austerity during a financial crisis, the public health of the greater population is placed in harms way. Though the idea of spending and saving wisely, especially during hard times, is a deeply respected value, the fact that frugality and thriftiness are proven to work on an individual and communal level should not imply that the same practices would be effective on an administrative plane. Rather the two authors assert, quite convincingly, that  “austerity” as a nationwide economic policy is not a sound practice, it is merely  an ill-advised attempt at repairing an economy on the fly.

Though my opinion does not mean much, their claims seem to hold water.  As far as I understand, an economy gets “fixed” when citizens are able to pour their hard-earned dollars back into the multitude of businesses, large and small, that comprise that country’s populace. If austere government policies lead to the physical debilitation of the general public, then the victims of the policies are rendered incapable of contributing to the “fixing” of the economy in any manner. Cutting-back is counterproductive.

The essence of “planned shrinkage” is so fundamentally contrary to everything public service has come to represent. City services like fire protection and police patrols are meant as the means towards improving and ensuring the health and safety of a community. The departments were not intended to be used as leverage to target and exile poverty-stricken, minority populations. As the first “core value” of its mission statement, the New York City Fire Department proclaims: “The Department continues its unwavering call to protect and serve.” Apparently, the writers of the statement are guilty of lying by omission. In its entirety, the declaration should read: “The Department continues its unwavering call to protect and serve the best interests of whatever massive and corrupt corporation is currently “invested” in our city government.”

From a capitalist perspective the concept of “planned shrinkage” makes perfect sense. From a humane perspective it is simply mind-boggling. Though the copious amount of numbers and statistics did much to dull my response to the sheer cruelty implied by the public policy, at its core, “planned shrinkage” is repugnant.  It might as well be labeled “premeditated murder.” The sudden removal of fire patrols from the South Bronx, the neighborhood seemingly most desperately in need of the protection, appears like nothing more than a deliberate attempt to inflict as great a population loss as possible on the blighted community. As a city, you should probably recognize you’ve gone a bit off the deep end when your public policy most closely resembles that of a Batman villain. “Gotham’s time has come…It is beyond saving and must be allowed to die.”- Liam Neeson, Batman Begins

Though it has essentially become a fundamental and characteristic staple of urban living, urban renewal is still accompanied by conflict each and every step of the way. The conflict so inherent to urban renewal is most often propagated by two groups intrinsically at odds with one another: local community residents and big businesses.  Their clash often seems to stem from a basic difference in perspective. Urban renewal projects are generally embarked upon with the intention of both personal and communal enrichment, yet, simultaneously, the politicians and businessman usually driving the project tend to ignore the thoughts and needs of the community already in place.

Interestingly enough, this struggle was more or less exemplified in recent years by the uproar over Forest City Ratner’s Atlantic Yards Project in Downtown Brooklyn.  The project began with a brief promise by Frank Gehry, the architect-in-chief, to “build a neighborhood from scratch,” apparently brushing off the existence of the well-rooted community already there. Community activists soon got up in arms and implored Forest City Ratner to develop the neighborhood, not destroy it. Aided and subsidized by the New York City government, the developers eventually, and inevitably, prevailed.

The circumstances in Downtown Brooklyn typified the general conditions of many urban renewal projects. Forest City Ratner poured obscene amounts of money into developing the neighborhood, and they paid displaced residents nearly 2.5 times the market value for their homes. But the subsequent gentrification forced out many other community members as well, including those not accounted for by the city politicians and developers. The neighborhood development drove rent through the roof and tore apart many tight-knit, decades-old communities.

At its core, urban renewal has become a trade-off between money and prestige, and the fostering of protective, united communities that can prove instrumental in the development of our children’s minds and ideals. It is a sad, unfortunate truth, but, as we have all come to learn, money talks. And everyone else remains silent.