Once again Robert Moses’ name is  extolled–this time in chapter three of Matthew Gandy’s  Concrete and Clay. It credits him with the successful reconstruction of the New York metropolitan area during the New Deal era, during which he aimed to create an “integrated, car-oriented urban form” of NYC. His efforts ultimately paved way for the construction of many new parks and highways in New York. Moses was therefore undoubtedly an important figure in the development of a more modern and technology-fueled New York.

According to the book, New Deal construction projects were brought to life in hopes of generating “greater social harmony” and to enlarge “the meaning of ‘the public.’” By transforming NYC into a land of parks and highways, however, Moses and company did not fully meet either promise on either account. This is in the sense that their acts of modernization unintentionally worked to alienate large portions of the City’s population, namely the lower class (or those too poor to afford a car). The development of the new roads coupled with the creation of Jones Beach State Park, for example, allowed “affluent New Yorkers the chance to escape the city” and enjoy the new public recreational facilities in tranquil Long Island. Although the park and roads had been formed for the benefit of the entire public, in the end only the rich were able to enjoy them. The automobilization of the City therefore narrowed the definition of “the public” instead of broadening it to incorporate more of the masses. This instance therefore illustrates the notion that technological advancements have the potential of favoring some social groups over others.

Another example of technology unwittingly favoring the upper class is discussed in chapter five of Concrete and Clay. It involves the conflict that arose due to the proposed building of a massive waste incinerator within one of the poorest communities in New York City: the Brooklyn Navy Yard site in the heart of Greenpoint-Williamsburg. The construction of the incinerator, which had been suggested due to the looming garbage crisis in NYC, spurred the formation of several unlikely alliances, including one between the neighborhood’s two primary ethnic groups, Latinos and Hasidic Jews. They had been locked in bitter discord for many years, however agreed to unite against the common threat of a supposedly helpful technological advancement that would, in actuality, serve as a dangerous new source of air pollution in their own backyard. Though the incinerator would serve as an effective temporary solution to the City’s growing garbage issue, its negative effects would undoubtedly outweigh its benefits in the long run. With NYC’s wealth and authority concentrated far away from the area that would be most affected, however, most of those who had a vote in the matter of the incinerator could care less about the negative effects of its implementation. After all, those who had that power were rich enough to live elsewhere, in the much cleaner and more manicured neighborhoods of New York.

Other such examples of community mobilization that have been made in response to an unwanted “invasion of technology” include the Harlem battle against the North River sewer plant, as well as the South Bronx conflicts over sewage treatment works, medical waste incineration, and paper production. In every case, minority groups fought to combat the establishment of modern and novel technological methods: methods that had been brought to the table by inconsiderate superiors lacking empathy towards the New Yorkers living in the affected (and already dilapidated) neighborhoods.

It was therefore interesting when I was assigned to the incinerator’s “pro side” during class, being so opposed to the notion of the incinerator in real life. There were many valid points made by my group and the “city’s government” group, however, and in the end I was left wondering whether or not the incinerator really was such a terrible idea. When the notion of having personal garbage heaps in individual’s backyards got brought up, I cringed–I like the fact that I can put my garbage on the curb and have it whisked away the subsequent day, not really thinking about where it ends up or the people its dumping may affect. It sounds absolutely selfish, but it is an attitude that many people share. Would individuals truly be willing to have miniature trash composts stinking up their properties? Is it really better to spread the garbage all over the City (an act that would negatively affect the majority of the population, to some extent) instead of concentrating it in one place (an act that would negatively affect a small portion of the population, however to a lesser degree)? Originally the matter of the incinerator seemed like a no-brainer…but now, I beg to differ.

It is curious how though the two main examples that support the idea of technology sometimes favoring some social groups over others had, in another sense, opposing outcomes. While Moses’ urban parkway worked to increase the divide between the upper and lower classes, the proposal of the incinerator ultimately united two previously warring ethnic clusters. In a way, then, the proposal of the incinerator served as an unexpected catalyst for peace (to some degree): it ultimately helped bridge the void between two clashing communities. So maybe the idea of the incinerator isn’t so bad after all…for strangely, in the end, its proposal worked towards building a “greater social harmony” than Moses’ urban parkway ever did.