In Thomas’ Burn, Gilboa, Burn, the author’s sense of bias quickly becomes apparent within the first few paragraphs. His anecdotal account of how Gilboa, “a Goliath amid a sea of Davids,” was condemned to flames paints his blatant disapproval of the burning, asserting his belief that “the impact on individual lives was incalculable” and supporting such by quoting equally opinion-pumped articles (“there is a note of sadness in the business transactions occurring at Gilboa…the separation and scattering of the big family of village residents, people who for long years have lived together, means a whole lot, for sentiment and friendship are more than commonplace terms…”; this quote in particular, like many others, is meant to tug at a reader’s conscience and ultimately generate sympathy for those so harshly affected by the hamlet’s destruction). Thomas facts are therefore somewhat unreliable, as they are presented in an overly biased sense. He fails to provide equal representation of all sides of the story, focusing solely on one blinding aspect that has him emotionally charged. Although the numbers mentioned in his piece may be accurate, the way they are integrated into and presented in the article are completely biased, as they are not only meant to inform readers, but persuade them to perceive the Gilboa burning event through the same lens as Thomas, who poignantly asserts that the completion of the dam ultimately signaled the “final destruction” of Gilboa. He laments his mammoth disapproval of the Schoharie Reservoir’s birth being rooted in the death of a well-established and close-knit community in his final paragraph, making New York appear monstrous by taking advantage of its surrounding small towns: “As for New York City, the dam was filled, new trees were planted on the hillsides, and Gilboa was nothing more than another supply of water.”

Ascher’s presentation of NYC’s water system therefore seems more accurate, not because it is purely objective, but because it demonstrates a less biased picture overall. The manner in which she relays her data is much more factual, and way less anecdotal and conjectural. Her tenor is far from Thomas’ critical and solemn tone; it incorporates some degree of subjectivity, however still manages to tame her own opinion and insert it using a much more subtle approach. Ascher’s discussion of the creation of the reservoirs, for example, is not nearly as fervent and one-sided as Thomas’. She acknowledges the fact that the process entailed “the partial flooding of some 30 separate communities” and that “over 9,000 people were displaced in the process,” however does not really elaborate beyond such facts. You can still pick up on Ascher’s bias, however, by reviewing her choice of words: she uses less harsh vocabulary in describing the overall incident, selecting less poignant adjectives (she expresses that the communities affected were only partially flooded and that people were simply displaced—not rendered tragically homeless, as dramatically implied by Thomas’ article). This therefore reveals her bias, which favors anything beneficial towards New York (even if it means the decimation of a few thousand homes).

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.

What have I learned in class so far? I have learned that environmental sustainability means more than just having enough resources for today, but that it also entails being considerate of the needs of future generations. I have been introduced to notions I would have never been able to fathom myself. For example—I had always believed that cities to be central hubs for cultural and social mixing, since they are so densely populated and seemingly close-knit.  It would have never occurred to me that cities could stifle interaction between varying peoples, as argued by Rogers.

Recalling our brief Central Park escapade, I remember the new perspective I acquired from suddenly becoming aware of the impact mankind has had on nature. In my mind it was if someone had taken a highlighter and used it to accentuate the many aspects of the park I had never taken notice to before: the way the trees were strategically positioned to produce shade, and how some of their trunks showed signs of branches having being severed; the nest situated behind a metal traffic sign, and the “wild” animals that had become so accustomed to humans that they dared to inch closer instead of scamper away. It made me question whether or not Central Park could really be considered a piece of “nature,” seeing as it is so manmade.

And then there was our excursion to Black Rock Forest, where I witnessed the strength of the wilderness and the wonder of a much less disturbed nature. I will never forget the sight of that manmade metal sign being swallowed by the trunk of the tree it was nailed to. Without the aid of paved steps and pathways, I felt quite defeated by nature’s might at the end of the day, having been taken out of my technologically fueled urban element.

Speaking of trips, the one to the Center for Architecture was also an eye-opener. The building’s modern and energy-efficient heating and cooling system was fascinating, and it was interesting to find that despite the immense initial cost to install it, the system paid itself back within just three years. That reminds me of the human-waste-turned-fertilizer process in Black Rock—the notion was a tad too unconventional for my taste, however still exceptionally intriguing. Both instances are just two examples of the many ways individuals can implement to reduce mankind’s carbon footprint. It goes to show that with a bit more consideration, conscientiousness, and willingness to invest, alternative, eco-friendly methods can really make a difference if society cares to apply them.

PlaNYC was news to me, despite its already three-year old existence. Prior to taking this course, I was completely unaware of the City’s efforts to reduce its carbon emissions, increase housing, improve energy consumption levels, and so forth. I knew our population was growing, but I didn’t expect it would soar that much over a short 25-year span. More importantly I had been clueless as to how poor a state New York City is in now. With a swelling population, a crumbling infrastructure, and such high levels of energy consumption, it was great gaining insight on the issues the City currently faces and how it is attempting to combat them. I look forward to researching the hypothetical ways wind and solar energy may help transform New York into a more energy-efficient city, and hope that someday some of the cool structures displayed in the diagrams at the Center for Architecture will come to life (i.e. parks integrated with transportation hubs and gardens on roofs).

My ideas about science and technology have definitely shifted to some extent; I was definitely in the dark prior to taking this course with regards to the immense progress that has been made in both fields, and the incredible effect their mergence has had on modern society. I knew that the two subjects were related, however I had not known how deeply intertwined they are in actuality. In the modern world, it is difficult to separate technology from science; even supposed “natural” areas such as Central Park have been impacted by humans’ technological touch in one way or another. In this age, many people have grown  increasingly dependent on technology to maneuver through their everyday lives; it is not uncommon for a person to say that they “need” their cell phone, or air-conditioning, or public transportation in order to survive. Therefore many scientific aspects of human lives (biological, environmental, and psychological) have become governed by technology, and in a way people now use digital devices as crutches in order to sustain themselves in an otherwise natural world.  It is no doubt that science and technology walk hand-in-hand.

The thought is somewhat frightening; the more we allow technology to govern our societies, well–let’s just say the fantastical notion of robots taking over the planet one day come to mind. But granted that phenomenon doesn’t happen in my lifetime, the deepening relationship between technology and science is extremely thrilling as it continues to generate a fascinating array of possibilities and a more promising future for mankind’s sustainability.

In “Growing Greener, New York Style,” Rachel Weinberger attempts to widen support for PlaNYC 2030 by offering a lucid and thorough analysis of, specifically, the City’s transportation system, which she asserts is the “lynchpin” of New York City’s success. She asserts that because New Yorkers depend so greatly on public transit, it is crucial for the City to develop ways to counter the strain it will endure due to the ten percent increase in population expected to occur in twenty years. The aim is to find a way for the already stretched system to further expand its capacity, while simultaneously lowering carbon emissions. Weinberger cites three negative externalities of transport that the City took into consideration while mapping its transportation system: pollution, congestion, and land. Motorized transportation lowers air quality and is harmful to people’s health so much that in 1994, the EPA found the act of driving a car as the “single most polluting activity of most Americans.” With regards to congestion, Weinberger argues that once a transportation system reaches its full capacity, delays caused by frazzled commuters ultimately impose an unnecessary additional expense on the City’s economy. Such delays also slow down deliveries, making them more costly as well. She also discusses the large influence land has on the efficiency level of a public transit system.

Weinberger does not make baseless claims, however; she also backs her assertions with credible facts and statistics that are easy to understand and relate to, providing a plethora of simply presented data to help demonstrate her claims. For example, when she aims to show just how immense the amount of space necessary to move and store automobiles in NYC, she goes beyond supplying readers with a large number (coupled with a unit many people—especially those in an urban setting—are unfamiliar with). As daunting as “23,000” sounds, many people would not have been able to fathom the exact immensity of the figure if it were not for the little anecdotal fact in parentheses stating that this equated to about the same size as the Bronx. She goes on to compare 5,500 acres (the amount of space the cars New Yorkers own would fill) to “seven times the size of Central Park” and 11,000 acres to nearly all of Manhattan. Such comparisons therefore serve as valuable aids in demonstrating her points. Besides using such anecdotal bits, she also utilizes various numerical graphs to help persuade the reader into adopting her view. Two particular graphs that struck me were figures 4 and 5, the former of which displays the fact that the number of daily transit riders in New York amount to more than that of the next five largest transit systems combined. According to its caption, it was derived from the American Public Transit Association in 2006. Because she has taken the graph from an apparently reliable source, readers are further swayed to agree with her assertions.

Although one may be prompted to question the credibility of data derived from presumably biased sources, one must also take into consideration the fact that because such organizations have taken an interest in the topic at hand also works to increase the probability that the information is indeed accurate. This is in the sense that because of the organization’s immense interest, they most likely acquired their data through extensive research and experimentation. After all, immense curiosity leads to a desire for specialization, which denotes a greater amount of focus poured into one specific field. In truth, it is this sense of specialization and specificity of interest that makes an organization authoritative. The more specialized an organization is, the more people seem to trust its data, despite the fact that it may be blatantly biased in its presentation. So long as one knows how to separate such bias from fact and is willing to gather information from a multitude of sources and intertwine them in an objective manner, such sources can still be deemed reliable. In truth, the “unreliability” of such organizations stems from the fact that many times, though their data is 100% accurate, they only display the figures that support their cause. It is therefore crucial for one to explore every facet of a given topic, strip them all of their original biased natures, and then meld them together to create one detailed and objective piece. The product of such would, theoretically, be a perfectly unbiased source; but in reality, it is impossible for any source to be completely unbent. This is due to humans’ natural tendency to inject some degree of their own viewpoints or beliefs in everything that is said and done. Even an author hoping to compose a completely objective book on insects will unknowingly insert some level of his or her own opinion within it by failing to leave out certain bits of information that he may not have found appealing. Within Ascher’s book, for example, lies a line that hints towards the author’s own personal opinion, though at a glance one may judge the text to be completely objective: “While it is true that individual appliances may be getting more energy efficient, their rapid proliferation outweighs any energy savings that better manufacturing has achieved.” This statement is clearly subjective, as Ascher provides little proof to support the claim and instead inflates it with her own personal confidence in order to make it sound more believable. The wording and strategic presentation of Ascher’s works therefore shed immense light on her bias, though quite discreetly. She masks such with a strew of impressive numbers and figures, however in truth she simultaneously manages to interject her own self into the text. Her use of words such as “fabulous,” “marvelous,” “beautiful,” and “grand” in describing some of the City’s anatomical aspects illustrates her awe and admiration for New York; if she were truly aiming to create a purely objective book about the inner workings of NYC, she would not have utilized such opinionated vocabulary.

Ascher’s work provides readers with a glimpse into the inner workings of New York’s power system, while simultaneously suggesting ways to improve the City’s capacity for sustainability. Such methods include the consumption of more green power, or electricity derived from natural, renewable sources, as opposed to energy generated by fossil fuels. Biomass fuels, for example, are produced from the decomposition or burning of organic matter. Hydroelectric energy, or electricity generated by water-powered turbines, accounts for 4% of New York City’s power consumption, and nearly one-fifth of New York State’s. In order to become a “greener” city, Ascher proposes that New Yorkers invest in alternative energies, despite the fact that the production of green power may cost significantly more. Central Park’s NYPD precinct is powered by a fuel cell, which combines gas and steam to produce hydrogen and ultimately, a direct current. Although the 200-kW fuel cell was expensive to install, it creates much less pollution and makes the police station immune to any interruptions to the New York State power grid. The fact that housing is responsible for the most energy consumption in the City sheds light upon the need for New Yorkers to become more aware and considerate of how much energy they burn as individuals. With the cooperation of citizens (and a little coaxing by the law), the amount of electricity consumed by New York on a regular basis may decrease, in the end lowering the City’s carbon footprint and improving the environment for future generations.

Andreatta argues that the globalization of the agrofood industry has had a significant negative impact on producers and consumers alike. She asserts that due to the homogenization and industrialization of the food system, society has become more reliant on fast food in its convenience. It has freed people from their kitchens (formerly “centers of pleasure, culture, and conviviality”), and left them ignorant of the origins of the easy meals that land on their plates. Andreatta states that because of standardization and the infinite number of “middle men” involved in the modern day food process, there has been an immense loss of the quality, diversity, authenticity, culture, and integrity associated with food. Quoting Axelrod, she believes that “efficiency, biotechnology, and other global forces erode our abilities to savor our food, but not only our lives…”Andreatta evidently feels it is crucial that society strengthens its interconnectedness with nature, so as to ensure the good health of both humans and the environment. Consequently, her chapter discusses the growing awareness amongst people in European nations and the United States of the need to change the overly industrialized agricultural world, so as to emphasize the importance of maintaining the integrity, diversity, and authenticity of food. Over time many urban movements have formed for this purpose, including Slow Food International, an organization dedicated to “bringing back the kitchen” and “supporting local, authentic cuisine and artisan food makers.” Its members protest the act of eating fast, eating without consciousness, and eating without recognizing taste or respect for local cuisine. Andreatta also talks about how direct marketing outlets give urban consumers the chance to aid farmers in maintaining their livelihoods, while simultaneously fortifying environmental sustainability and cultural diversity.

Much like PlaNYC, many of the possible actions outlined in Urban Connections to Locally Grown Produce consumers may do in order to help battle the effects of “McDonaldization” involve a bit of sacrifice, consideration, and contribution. Both the site and article support their respective, researched claims with a great deal of evidence stemming from the opinions and thoughts of the masses, taking into consideration not only the voices of field specialists, but those of ordinary citizens as well. Andreatta’s survey, which she conducted in a North Carolinian farmer’s market on a busy Saturday, revealed that many shoppers were willing to travel out of their way just so that they could buy purchase produce from the farmer’s market, citing freshness and an appreciation for an atmosphere that generated a sense of intimacy, community, and wholesomeness unavailable at a chain grocery store. Andreatta also cites statistics from secondary sources such as academic journals, historical material, government documents, weblogs, and organizations, such as the Organic Trade Association. I found it interesting that over recent years, the OTA has found that organic agricultural food commodities have generated a whopping $10.8 billion. I never thought organic goods would turn out that much revenue, believing the people almost always opted for the cheaper, more standardized and homogenized options. If everyone began to appreciate the true value of authentic food, strived to build connections with the farmers who produce them, and  re-recognized the sacredness of the kitchen, it would undoubtedly benefit the environment and society as a whole.

I personally found PlaNYC’s sources to be a bit less credible than Andreatta’s, mainly due to the fact that many of its sources are not explicitly stated. The website provides a plethora of information, however much of it comes from the City’s own governmental archives and research (for example the NYC Department of City Planning), unaccompanied by other sources to back up all the reports’ claims. Much of the information was therefore gathered from city organizations, along with a few national ones (such as the U.S. Census Bureau). I like the fact that Andreatta’s sources are more readily available, and that she used a variety of sources from several different mediums, as opposed to only obtaining her information from government associations. The fact that she cited more independent organizations as well as academic journals makes her presentation seem much more trustworthy than PlaNYC’s as well. I do not question PlaNYC’s facts, however,  so much as I wish they presented a wider range of sources in order to back up their claims. The facts mentioned on the PlaNYC site are probably accurate, but it wouldn’t kill for it to offer more reassurance in terms of the data’s credibility (…beyond the fact that it originates from the nation and city’s exceptionally trustworthy government).

Richard Rogers’ desire to transform London into a more humanist city by millennium was highly ambitious for his given time frame, however not completely impractical concept-wise. It was interesting to learn that London was at one point the worst slum city in the world, but thanks to public outcry, press-covered campaigns, and an “irrepressible [surge of] Victorian self-confidence,” the London County Council was created and London became the first city to form a civic administration able to coordinate a “complex matrix of modern services” for its people. London then spiraled downwards once again when the elected council was abolished and the planning of the city became divided amongst a hoard of separate group entities, including five different government departments. This phenomenon illustrates a humanist city’s crucial need for an elected authority—an administrative body that will spur positive change by enabling all citizens to voice their opinions and ideas, so that they may contribute to the development of the city’s present and future. Rogers argued that in order for a city to be truly “for the people,” the masses should be active participants in city planning. I enjoyed his idea of building “architecture centers” which would provide more hands-on venues for citizens, architects, and planners to interact. As put by Rogers, “realizing the untapped wealth of knowledge and ideas which lie within the citizenry is key to solving urban problems.” Such centers would therefore act as a cumulative brainstorm, ultimately serving as powerful tools that will help shape a better future for the city. In order to effectively plan a brighter future for London (and any other city), there are three necessities: strong government direction, active involvement of the citizenry, and talented specialists and designers who can make the visions of the people come to life.

Prior to the new millennium, New York City was far from a humanist city. Much like London, the City is greatly market driven, making it less prone to being considerate of its citizens’ long-term needs. After Bloomberg’s announcement of PlaNYC in 2006, however, New Yorkers were given the opportunity to offer their thoughts and suggestions during a four-month public outreach event. This process entailed the government meeting with over a hundred advocacy organizations and holding a number of town hall gatherings with various neighborhood leaders. Similar to the “multi-media forums” suggested by Rogers in Cities for a Small Planet, these events allowed New Yorkers to have a say in the development of the City’s future. With the input of the people, government officials were able to draw a better sense of the challenges and obstacles the City will have to face over the next twenty-five years. This in turn made clear the goals NYC must aim to achieve in order to become more green and sustainable.

Besides calling for the participatory planning of citizens, many of Rogers’ other suggestions on how to improve London are echoed in PlaNYC, such as the idea to “streamline the metabolism” of the city in order to reduce its massive levels of consumption. If New York City manages to even reach its goal of dedicating 10% of the city’s annual energy bill to funding energy-saving investments in City workings, it will become that much more humanistic, for reducing the amount of waste generated by NYC will benefit its own citizens (through helping the environment) in the long run. If PlaNYC is executed as written, it will be a giant step in New York becoming a true humanist city—one that is considerate of its citizens, thanks to the joint efforts of its leaders and inhabitants alike.

There’s a fine line between humanism and sustainability, making it difficult to distinguish the difference between the two. Though both deal with the upkeep of human race, they possess definitions that are dissimilar to some extent. Humanism deals with the social aspect of humans–it champions the voice of the public, aiming to produce a system that incorporates the masses in the planning and construction of a city’s inner workings. The more humanist a city is, the more mindful it is of its citizenry. On the other hand, sustainability is a measure of a city’s ability to maintain and replenish natural resources essential to mankind’s survival, so as to ensure that future generations are not left without. One may then argue that humanism has to do with being considerate of people’s wants (convenience and efficiency, fairness and equality, and general smoothness of city operations for the sake of social order), in contrast to sustainability, which deals a bit more with their absolute needs (food, water, land, energy, etc.). Both are undeniably interconnected and overlapping, however, since it is impossible to have one and not the other; a city cannot be labeled humanistic if it is unable to deliver its society’s even most primitive needs. It also cannot argue its sustainability without admitting that, by working to preserve resources by implementing “greener” systems, it is automatically committing a humanist act.

In the process of bettering a city’s sustainability, however, sometimes authorities deem it necessary for its citizens to make some sacrifices. It is due to this that PlaNYC, though greatly humanistic in its quest to ameliorate the City’s deteriorating infrastructure, may also be seen as non-humanistic as well. The site’s list of Energy Initiatives, for example, calls for the creation of a NYC Energy Planning Board along with an energy efficiency authority. The establishment of such organizations would limit the participation of the masses in the decision-making on energy matters, as the introduction of such authorities would narrow the connection between ordinary New Yorkers and the officials put in power. Also, the list mentions usage of a series of mandates to reduce the demand for energy in the City. Stricter enforcement may be for the greater good, but it still “hurts” people to some degree with its limitations, in the sense that people will have to get rid of their habit of using immense amounts of energy, or else face the consequences of the law. In hoping to make NYC a more sustainable place, PlaNYC therefore does slightly contradict its otherwise seemingly wholly humanistic nature.

Being in the heart of New York City, Central Park is clearly far more influenced by the presence of humans than Black Rock Forest is. The park is very accommodating towards humans in many senses, especially with regards to safety and recreation. There were a lot of methods for containing nature evident in Central Park, such as the great rock walls that enclose the entire rectangular structure, as well as the metal railings that fence in the grass, and the manicured stone surrounding the lake that keeps its waters well contained and defined. There were visible signs of trees having had some of their branches labeled excessive and consequently chopped off for the sake of reducing, what I can only imagine to be, “natural congestion.” This observation shows that mankind intended the Park’s function and aesthetic to be more considerate of humans’ needs and desires. The effect humans have had on Black Rock Forest is much less impacting, as it is not as contained or restricted. It is a much lesser disturbed form of nature, one that accommodates humans in a much milder degree, as does Central Park. In Black Rock Forest, the rocks and trees and life forms of the ecosystem rule over human visitors, not the other way around. Hiking through the woods, marks of a trail are barely present, and as a human I had to adapt to nature in order to get through. The forest had not been polished prior to my arrival in order to suit my needs. At most, there were traces of paint on some tree trunks and a lone, rusty metal sign. The sign had been drilled into a tree, whose trunk had then proceeded to grow in a manner that seemed to swallow it—retaliation against mankind’s attempt to disturb nature’s wild.

The relationship between nature and sustainability is quite apparent. It is clear that without nature, mankind would not be able to sustain itself. Humans require many natural resources in order to operate even the most modern technological inventions: we depend on plants and animals as sources of energy; in order to build new structures, we use raw materials from plants and the earth; for transportation we require rivers and oceans for our ships and crude oil to run our cars; we need either wind, water, and solar energy to power most of our modern day mechanisms. These are only several examples of how mankind relies on nature in order to sustain itself. In truth, every thing us humans use has a natural origin.

Sustainability also calls for the need to ensure that there are enough natural resources for future generations as well. Presently, the rate at which mankind is consuming the planet’s nonrenewable resources is incredibly rapid, endangering the welfare of those yet to be born. It is difficult to be mindful of how gravely the consequences of our actions will affect people in the future, because in reality we have very little incentive to care. After all, we will not be alive long enough to suffer the negative outcome of living so rashly and inconsiderately. We do not spend much time fretting over how our children and grandchildren will get by many decades from now. Yet it is crucial that we spread awareness regarding the importance of preserving nature’s resources, to guarantee that the human race will be able to continue to sustain itself. Nature is the foundation for our entire existence, and without it we would not survive. Surely not even the most superior technological discovery in the world will ever free us from being dependent on raw, natural resources.

It was interesting to read Gandy’s recount of Central Park’s background, which reveals those who originally advocated its creation, their reasons for wanting a grand public space in Manhattan, and how the park was ultimately conceived and constructed. Aside from the aesthetics of a public garden and the desire to emulate Europe’s luxuriant and picturesque nature-filled spaces, people also felt that the park would possess valuable “curative and circulatory powers.” They believed that the massive streak of green would work as “urban lungs” for the City’s working class, on top of serving as “a symbol of both political and aesthetic achievement” for the wealthy.

There is immense truth in the statement that “air is disinfected by sunlight and foliage.” Ultimately, the park’s history clearly ties back to the discussion of the relationship between nature and sustainability, as many saw the creation of a public green as an essential element in maintaining a “healthy functioning” city such as New York.

A final thought that ran through my mind while perusing Concrete and Clay involved the fact that rich Republicans were responsible for the birth of Central Park, meaning many of the poor and working class were displaced due to its formation. It is therefore interesting to contemplate the scenario of the grand park’s creation occurring in present day as opposed to in the mid-1900s, since the City today is indubitably primarily Democratic. Would the wealthy still be able to overpower the will of the masses? Lastly, to what extent has Central Park really helped relieve the high levels of pollution found in NYC today? Were the livelihoods of those who were flushed out by its construction worth it in the end?

New York City is quite the concrete jungle, yet on a map there are still some shades of green situated strategically among the five boroughs. The most noticeable one, Central Park, is a perfect evergreen rectangle, located smack dab in the middle of Manhattan, the most urban borough of them all. Though Central Park may arguably be considered a fine example of nature, the fact that it is manmade and sits in the midst of so much coal and grey makes its so-called natural state somewhat questionable.

Prior reading the introduction to Concrete and Clay: Reworking Nature in New York City, I would have probably laughed at the suggestion that the “naturalness” of NYC extended beyond the infamous park. But author Matthew Gandy has a very valid point of view: though the rough and artificial elements of NYC may seem far from “natural” at a glance, New York City could not have been built without raw materials from nature. In my mind it paints the image of a once large, unrefined rock being chiseled and polished to produce something else—a structure meant to serve as more than just a honed stone. But that does not mean that the finished product stops being a rock, just because it underwent a process that altered its visible appearance. Similarly, the raw, natural materials used to construct New York City as we know it do not fully shed their identification with nature just because they took a drill and hammer at the hand of man.

Yet still, it is undeniable that New York City is not purely natural. In fact, it appears as though the forces of urbanization mask its organic origins. The immense application of mankind’s knowledge and skills to nature has made it nearly unrecognizable. As Gandy points out, however, nature has not been completely flushed out of New York; instead it has been “reworked” into its rapidly evolving and technologically submersed environment, making “the transformation of the experience and perception of nature in New York City intersec[t] with a series of social, political, and economic developments.”

As discussed in class, humans have come a long way in terms of defining what is elemental. Mankind has morphed “nature” into something very complex, shaping it to accommodate modern society’s needs, wants, and perceptions. Ask a primitive being such as a caveman what he needs to live, and he’ll simply give you the basics: food, water, and shelter. Ask a 21^st Century New Yorker what he requires, and the list is ten times as long. When we got into groups during class to contemplate the question ourselves, we regarded an education, a source of heat and cooling, government, a sufficient transportation and communication system (which involved largely the use of technology), and money—among other things—as great necessities. Yet despite all the huge technological advancements accomplished by the human race, we are still dependent on nature’s basics—namely water, animals, earth, wood, and fire (plus all other natural sources of energy)—to survive. So we have devised a method of integration, one that blends together elements of the manmade metropolitan with the organic complexities of nature. Ultimately, it is difficult to answer the question of whether or not New York City can be considered “natural.” It all depends on how you look at it…the City’s multifaceted existence prevents there from being only one right answer.

As mentioned in class, community gardens are a wonderful of example of a harmonized blend of nature and urbanization. Beyond acting as aesthetically pleasing green spaces in a land of concrete and tar, they help promote sustainability by providing a place for communities to unite and cultivate fruits and vegetables in an intimate setting.