Spatial segregation is a feature of metropolises from San Diego to Boston, from Santiago to Cape Town, from Belfast to Bangalore. In some places the segregation is associated primarily with racial groups, in other places, ethnicity or religion, while in still other places, income status. In our experiences with the Americas, we find that international comparative research allows researchers and policy analysts to see both unique and shared characteristics in sharp relief. For example, in Latin America, the public debate around urban spatial segregation typically focuses on socioeconomic issues, whereas in the U.S. and many developed countries the debate centers more on racial or ethnic disparities.

Residential segregation also has different meanings and consequences depending on the specific form and structure of the metropolis, as well as the cultural and historical context. In North America, social and ethnic minorities tend to be segregated in less desirable inner-city locales while the upper- and middle-class majority disperses into small, socially homogeneous urban neighborhoods or suburbs across the metropolis. By contrast, in Latin American cities it is the elite minority that tends to concentrate in one area of the city.

The Forces

The forces that contribute to spatial segregation are many and varied. The apartheid laws of South Africa were one extreme case of large-scale, government-sanctioned spatial segregation. Other cases have garnered less international attention, such as the Brazilian government’s destruction of favelas in the 1960s, when the poor inhabitants were removed to other segregated locations. On a smaller scale, in Santiago, Chile, between 1979 and 1985 during the Pinochet regime, more than 2,000 low-income families were evicted from high- and middle-income residential areas with the stated objective of creating neighborhoods that were uniform by socioeconomic group.

While government evictions and legal frameworks are explicit mechanisms for creating urban spatial segregation, more subtle mechanisms also have been used to create or enforce spatial segregation. In Colombia, the contribución de valorización (a kind of betterment charge) was imposed on inhabitants of an informal settlement in Bogotá located on the edge of a new circumferential highway. Officials knew the charge was higher than most inhabitants could afford to pay and would likely lead them to “choose” relocation. By setting land use standards that the poor could not meet, the government virtually forced them toward the informal, peripheral areas. The U.S. is no stranger to such mechanisms to create segregated housing markets. For example, some real estate agents shun racial and ethnic minorities or persons from lower social classes who do not fit their target markets, and many small landlords rely on informal networks to find the kinds of tenants they prefer.

Voluntary segregation has become a new force, with the proliferation of gated communities in both northern and southern hemispheres. This trend seems to have several motivations, including both supply and demand factors. On the demand side, residents might be attracted to the perception of security or a new lifestyle. On the supply side, builders and developers find tremendous profitability with the large-scale internalization of externalities in these highly controlled developments.

The complexity that stems from the combination of coercive and voluntary segregation leads us to a deeper question: What is the relationship between social differences and spatial segregation? It is commonly assumed that the former are “reflected” in the latter. Social groups sometimes resort to segregation in order to fortify their weak or blurred identity, as in the case of emerging middle-income groups or immigrant communities in search of social recognition. To a great extent, the post-war suburbanization process in U.S. cities can be interpreted as a means of homogeneous sorting to strengthen social identity.

The Consequences

In the U.S., spatial segregation is a serious policy issue because of the complex interactions between land and housing markets on the one hand, and their connection to local revenues and the distribution and quality of local services on the other hand. Disparities in school quality may be one of the more dramatic examples of the variations in public services between places.

The combination of residential segregation by class and by racial or ethnic groups and the systematically uneven spatial distribution of quality schools results in poor inner-city enclaves where children attend substandard schools, which in turn limits their life chances. Other services, such as access to transportation and health care, also vary spatially, as do such measurable factors as air quality and neighborhood infrastructure.

In other countries, spatial segregation of the poor often occurs within informal settlements. These areas once were viewed as aberrations, but scholars increasingly understand informality as a result of the normal functioning of land and housing markets, not as part of a duality of formal versus informal economies. In this view, illegal, irregular, informal, or clandestine activities to access and occupy urban land are the way that the market provides housing for poor people. Nevertheless, these arrangements are not always “chosen” for their low price or relative conveniences, but rather because they are one of an extremely limited set of choices available to the poor.

Traditional segregation patterns in Latin American cities are changing due to the proliferation of new gated communities for expanding high- and middle-income groups and the emergence of shopping centers and office complexes in more “modern” areas beyond the former urban enclaves. In São Paulo, Santiago, Buenos Aires and Mexico City, to name a few of the biggest and most dynamic cities, these developments are appearing even next to lower-income areas. Segregation of uses and access is becoming more intense, making the growing social inequalities of the last decades more apparent. Yet, at the same time, these changes in the patterns of segregation are reducing physical distances among socioeconomic groups, and are bringing “modern” commercial facilities and improved public spaces closer to the poor.

The consequences of segregation are probably changing due to this reduction in its geographical scale. Some of the negative effects of large-scale segregation of the poor (i.e., their agglomeration in the periphery of the cities) could be fading in this new, more diverse urban landscape. Recent empirical studies carried out in Santiago support this contention.

Policy Responses

Spatial segregation is both a reflection of the existing social structure and a mechanism to enforce that structure, thus raising the question of how and when segregation should be addressed. Is the problem in the U.S. context that poor minority children live among others of the same income and racial group, or is it that by living in poor, segregated areas the children’s life opportunities are limited because of their inaccessibility to good schools? Is the answer to improve the schools, to integrate the neighborhood, or to initiate a combination of these and other responses? In the context of developing countries, is the problem of informal settlements that they are often dangerous (due to risky environmental conditions or street violence) or that the residents are isolated from good jobs, transit and other services? Is the answer to reduce or eliminate the danger, to improve transit, to bring jobs to the neighborhood, or to try all of these programs?

We need to improve our understanding of the social problems in these segregated areas in order to adequately design and implement appropriate policy responses that are necessarily multidimensional. Should change come in the form of corrective programs (e.g., regularization or upgrading of informal settlements) or more fundamental policies that would involve the massive provision of serviced land at affordable prices? One “corrective” option contrasts the informalization of formal arrangements (e.g., deregulation) with the formalization of the informal (e.g., the redefinition of zoning codes or the regularization of alternative tenure systems).

A more fundamental solution would be either piecemeal implementation or mandatory designation of social housing developments in high-income areas. A different sort of tool is to open up decision making around the allocation of public investment, as in the successful orçamento participativo process used in the municipality of Porto Alegre, Brazil, where the budget is determined with extensive public participation. Other responses could address the radical upgrading of existing low-income peripheral settlements, more extensive use of linkage fees, or the elimination of land markets altogether, as was done in Cuba. However, we need more information regarding the efficacy of these varied programs and tools, and careful analysis of the necessary conditions to increase the chances of success.

Globalization has fostered the movement of labor and capital, bringing both the positive and negative experiences of developed and developing countries closer together. Immigrants to the U.S., particularly undocumented ones, tend to settle in urban enclaves, but their lack of legal status reverberates beyond those settlements. Access to jobs and credit is limited, which in turn restricts the immigrants’ mobility and reinforces existing spatial segregation.

On the other hand, as U.S. financial and real estate corporations extend their operations overseas, they introduce U.S. protocols, conventions, expectations and ways of operating. The exportation of such U.S. norms to developing countries may lead to new patterns of geographic discrimination (e.g., redlining) by race and/or ethnic group, where such practices previously were less explicit.

We know from past research and experience that segregation can increase land revenues for developers and landowners. We also know that the profitability of housing development is dependent upon public investments in roads, facilities and services. At the same time, we acknowledge that segregation has both negative and positive impacts on city life, ranging from social exclusion that makes life harder for the poor to strengthened social and cultural identities that contribute to the city’s diversity and vitality.

The face of segregation varies both within and between metropolises. However, comparative international work has demonstrated that there are important trends of convergence between U.S. and Latin American cities. We have much more to understand regarding the effect of interacting land and housing markets and the regulatory structure on spatial segregation and the life chances of urban residents.

Rosalind Greenstein is senior fellow and director of the Lincoln Institute’s Program on Land Markets. Francisco Sabatini is assistant professor in the Institute of Urban Studies at the Catholic University of Chile in Santiago. Martim Smolka is senior fellow and director of the Lincoln Institute’s Program in Latin America and the Caribbean.

The proliferation of informal and illegal forms of access to urban land and housing has been one of the main consequences of the processes of social exclusion and spatial segregation that have characterized intensive urban growth in developing countries. Given the absence of adequate housing policies and the failure of the land market to offer sufficient, suitable and accessible housing options, millions of urban poor have to create their own shelter, either by invading private or public land or by buying land illegally and constructing their own housing. This phenomenon has attracted the attention of many researchers, policy makers and others worried about the grave socioeconomic, environmental and political implications for the urban poor and society at large.

Peruvian economist Hernando de Soto is one of the most influential contemporary ideologues addressing this complex issue. His ideas and proposals regarding large-scale regularization programs, most recently presented in his book, The Mystery of Capital, have received extensive media coverage and have raised the level of public debate. His influence can be measured by the fact that an increasing number of countries and cities, in Latin America and elsewhere, have introduced regularization policies based on his ideas, and these programs have already had a significant impact on international and institutional approaches to property reform and good governance. In many countries, politicians who were never particularly interested in urban development concerns have now become vigorous defenders of de Soto’s ideas. Why?

A Review of Urban Settlement Trends

Before addressing de Soto’s work directly, a brief summary of the current situation is in order. In Latin America, the urbanization process has been especially significant: 380 million people, some 75 percent of the total population, lived in urban areas in 2000, making it the most urbanized region in the world. While the globalization of urban land markets has intensified in Latin America, the region has also seen poverty escalate. It is estimated that between 40 and 80 percent of the population lives illegally because they can neither afford nor gain legal access to land near employment centers. As a result, illegal tenure arrangements have become the main form of urban land development.

The violent evictions and forced removals of the 1970s have been gradually replaced by a relative tolerance of illegal occupations, culminating in some cases with the official recognition of such settlements. Responding to growing social mobilization, public administrators and policy makers in several countries have struggled to formulate regularization programs aimed at both upgrading informal areas and recognizing the land and housing rights of the dwellers, thus legalizing their status.

Most land tenure regularization programs have been structured around two intertwined objectives: to recognize security of tenure and to promote the sociospatial integration of informal communities within the broader urban structure and society. The definition of what constitutes security of tenure has varied in both theory and practice. The UN Global Campaign for Securing Tenure for the Urban Poor, for example, seeks to protect dwellers against eviction and achieve other basic objectives, such as contributing to sustainable livelihoods; improving access to basic services; securing urban citizenship; producing certainty and incentives for investment; mobilizing disparate communities; and empowering women.

Generally speaking, regularization programs in Latin America have been more successful in upgrading settlements through public investments in urban infrastructure and service provision than in legalization programs. The definition of the nature of the rights to be attributed to dwellers has varied greatly, ranging from titles (such as freehold and leasehold) to contracts (such as social rent and other rental mechanisms) and precarious administrative permits (such as temporary licenses and certificates of occupancy). Experiences based on the transfer of individual freehold titles have been largely unsuccessful, given the many existing legal, technical and financial obstacles.

de Soto’s Contributions to the Debate

Although he has claimed that he initiated the debate, de Soto instead has made an undeniably important contribution to a long-standing discussion of the need to confront the phenomenon of urban informality and illegality through public policies aimed at legalizing informal settlements and other extralegal economic activities. Since the 1970s, this debate increasingly has involved planners and policy makers, but de Soto has repackaged the discussion and, to some extent, contributed to widening its scope and reach.

What makes de Soto’s ideas so appealing is that, perhaps better than anyone else, he has been able to emphasize the economic dimension and implications of urban illegality. Most of the academic research, social mobilization and policy-making on the matter of informal settlements and land regularization have been supported by a combination of humanitarian, ethical, religious, sociopolitical and environmental arguments. de Soto’s approach, on the other hand, has stressed the significant impact that comprehensive regularization programs could have on the overall urban economy by linking the growing informal extralegal economy into the formal economy. Moreover, he has argued that such public policies can be instrumental in reducing social poverty.

In his view, small informal businesses and precarious shanty homes are essentially economic assets, “dead capital,” that should be revived by the official legal system and turned into liquid capital so people could gain access to formal credit, invest in their homes and businesses, and thus reinvigorate the economy as a whole. He has estimated the amount of dead capital in the developing world at about US$9.3 trillion, a staggering figure that has drawn the attention of many influential politicians, land developers, government officials and financial organizations (Bourbeau 2001). His argument has been summarized as follows:

“Most of the poor already possess the assets they need to make a success of capitalism…But they hold these resources in defective forms…They lack the process to represent their property and create capital…They have houses, but not titles…. It is the representation of assets in legal property documents that gives them the power to create surplus value” (Mammen 2001).

In his first book, The Other Path, de Soto advocated the formalization of informal settlements. In his new book, The Mystery of Capital, he has taken this argument one step further, advocating that property ownership is the reason “why capitalism triumphs in the West and fails everywhere else,” which is also the subtitle of the book. de Soto offers a three-part argument:

• People need to feel secure of their legal tenure status so they can start investing in housing and business improvements;
• Security of tenure and resulting access to credit can only be provided by the legalization of informal settlements and businesses;
• The way to proceed is to provide universal title ownership through individual freehold titles, with clear titles and enforceable rights, to enable third world countries to leverage themselves and thus eradicate poverty.

The recognition of property ownership in de Soto’s proposal is important because it would entail access to credit and finance. He argues that European countries and the U.S. improved their property systems, allowing economic actors to discover and realize the potential of their assets and thus to be in a position to produce the kind of noninflationary money necessary to finance and generate production. Following that logic, national and international organizations have proposed, and even imposed, the full legalization of businesses and the unqualified recognition of individual freehold titles for urban dwellers in some informal settlements as the “radical” way to transform decaying urban economies.

Critiques of de Soto’s Assumptions

Appealing as his ideas are, there are many flaws in de Soto’s arguments. Now that the dust raised by the initial media attention to his book has started to settle down, the debate has become increasingly critical. Such an appraisal is especially important because the regularization programs inspired by his ideas have had a significant impact on the daily lives of millions of people.

To begin with, there has been increasing criticism of de Soto’s methodological approach that led to the highly unlikely estimated figure of existing dead capital. Some analysts have pointed out that his grasp of the role and social construction of individual property ownership in European and U.S. economic history is not entirely correct (Payne 2001). Others have criticized de Soto for oversimplifying, if not totally misunderstanding, the complex dynamics of both informal and formal urban land markets (Bourbeau 2001). I have stressed the specific, perhaps unique, role of land ownership in developing countries, especially in Latin America, where historically the combination of weak capital markets, highly inflationary economies and deficient social security systems has turned land value appreciation into a fundamental capitalization mechanism, thus generating a culture of speculation that has long supported a heritage of patrimonialism and political clientilism. This process has, in its turn, deeply affected the conditions of access to urban land and housing and the spatial distribution of public equipment and services, as well as generating urban illegality.

Another related critical argument is that de Soto has failed to recognize that the poor, despite their poverty, have already amassed assets through access to credit, albeit not from formal institutions. In fact, de Soto has failed to provide evidence that banks and other official financial and credit institutions would be prepared to give systematic credit to the poor, even though there is historical evidence to the contrary. For example, in de Soto’s country of Peru very few people have been able to access official credit following a massive regularization program (Riofrio 1998; Calderon 2001). Moreover, existing research in Colombia and other Latin American countries has indicated that the poor would not even be interested or willing to obtain official credit, given the socioeconomic and fiscal implications of this process (Gilbert 2001). Recent studies also have questioned the urban and socioeconomic sustainability of settlements in Mexico, Peru, El Salvador and elsewhere that have been legalized by programs inspired by de Soto’s ideas (Duhau 2001; Kagawa 2001; Zeledon 2001). Such programs have focused exclusively, and artificially, on the formal legalization of informal settlements and have not included adequate upgrading and other socioeconomic programs, thus failing to promote any sociospatial integration.

From my perspective as a legal scholar, I see three main flaws in de Soto’s argument. First, while discussing the importance of legalizing informal settlements, he has failed to question the very nature of the legal system that has generated urban illegality in the first place. I believe that the discussion of laws and legal institutions has to be supported by a critical understanding of the nature of the law-making process, the conditions for law enforcement, and the dynamics of the process of social construction of urban illegality. In particular, I have argued that the legal treatment of property rights should be taken out of the narrow, individualistic context of civil law so the matter can be interpreted from the socially oriented criteria of redefined public urban law (Fernandes 2001).

In this context, far from being radical, de Soto’s argument is a very conservative one. His work has failed to qualify the discussion on property rights, and he seems to assume that there is a universal, a-historical, “natural” legal definition of such rights. However, in Latin American countries and elsewhere in the developing world, the state has treated differently the different forms of property rights (financial, industrial, intellectual, etc.) and the social relations around them, allowing for varying degrees of state intervention in the domain of economic property relations. It is only for a very specific form of property rights, land and real estate, that the state has failed to affirm the notion of the social function of property versus the dominant individualistic approach given to such rights by anachronistic civil legislation (Fernandes 1999). The historical and political factors that have allowed classical legal liberalism to survive in Latin America have to be addressed before any comprehensive legal reform, such as that proposed by de Soto, can be implemented. The intimate though dialectically contradictory relationship between legality and illegality cannot be ignored (Fernandes and Varley 1998). Such a critical approach to law would certainly serve to dismiss de Soto’s claim that formal, unqualified individual ownership can be used against crime and terrorism.

A second flaw is that research in many developing countries has indicated that, given a combination of certain social, political and institutional conditions, residents in informal settlements can share an effective perception of security of tenure, have access to informal (and sometimes formal) credit and public services, and invest in housing improvement, even without having legal titles (Payne et al. forthcoming).

Third, and more important, existing research has shown that while the recognition of individual freehold titles can promote individual security of legal tenure it does not necessarily entail sociospatial integration. Unless titling is undertaken within the context of a broader set of public policies that address urban, politico-institutional and socioeconomic conditions, legalization programs may actually aggravate the processes of exclusion and segregation. As a result, the original beneficiaries of the programs might not be able to remain on the legalized land, although that should be the ultimate objective of regularization programs, especially on public land.

Moreover, regularization programs have had little impact on social poverty, in part because the traditional banking and financial mechanisms have not embraced them, as de Soto has claimed. The root of the problem runs deeper because regularization programs have a remedial nature. They can only have a more direct impact on urban poverty if they are part of a broader set of preventive public policies aimed at promoting overall urban reform and supported by socioeconomic policies aimed at generating job opportunities and income. There is a fundamental role for the market economy in this process, but it also requires systematic intergovernmental relations, public-private partnerships, and above all renewed social mobilization. Furthermore, de Soto has failed to consider the essential gender and environmental implications of land legalization.

To prevent the production of these perverse effects, we must identify and understand the factors that have contributed to the phenomenon of urban illegality. These include not only the combination of land markets and political systems but also the elitist and exclusionary legal systems still prevailing in Latin America. To legalize the illegal requires the introduction of innovative legal-political strategies to promote the articulation of individual land tenure with the recognition of social housing rights compatible with keeping dwellers in their existing settlements. Housing rights cannot be reduced to individual property rights.

New tenure policies need to integrate four main factors: legal instruments that create effective rights; socially oriented urban planning laws; political-institutional agencies and mechanisms for democratic urban management; and inclusionary macro-socioeconomic policies. The search for innovative legal-political solutions also includes the incorporation of a long-neglected gender dimension and a clear attempt to minimize the impacts such policies have on the land market. The benefits of public investment should be captured by the urban poor, not by traditional and new private land developers, as has happened frequently in settlements regularized according to de Soto’s proposals.

In conclusion, I would argue that regularization programs should be group specific, taking into account the local historical, cultural and political contexts as well as the existing forms of tenure arrangements, both legal and customary and formal and informal. Public administrators and lawmakers should refuse the pressure to homogenize land and property laws. Individual property ownership will always be an attractive option that should be considered, but there are many other legal-political alternatives.

Hernando de Soto is absolutely right when he questions the legitimacy of exclusionary legal systems. However, while he has uncritically assumed that legitimacy would result from the widespread recognition of individual ownership, other research has proved that this is not necessarily the case. He is generally right when he says that lawyers lack an understanding of the economic process. However, many observers believe that his own understanding of the economic process may be deeply flawed, and that he could also learn a thing or two about the legal process.

Edesio Fernandes is an attorney, urban planner and lecturer in the Development Planning Unit of University College London. He is also coordinator of IRGLUS-International Research Group on Law and Urban Space. This article is based in part on his ongoing research and a lecture he presented at the Lincoln Institute in October 2001.

References

Bourbeau, Heather. 2001. Property wrongs: How weak ideas gain strong appeal in the world of development economics. Foreign Policy (November/December):78-79.

Calderon Cockburn, Julio A. 2001. Comparative analysis of the benefited and non-benefited population by the national formalization plan, in Has the well-being of the population improved?: A balance of the main social policies and programs. Lima: National Institute of Statistics and Information (INEI): 65-92.

Duhau, Emilio. 2001. Impacts of regularization programs: Notes on the Mexican experience. Paper presented at the Lincoln Institute workshop on Informal Land Markets: Land Tenure Regularization and Urban Upgrading Programs (October).

de Soto, Hernando. 1986. The Other Path. London: I.B. Tauris & Co Ltd.

_____. 2001. The Mystery of Capital. London: Bantam Press.

Fernandes, Edesio. 1999. Redefining property rights in the age of liberalization and privatization. Land Lines (November) 11(6):4-5.

_____. 2001. Law and the production of urban illegality. Land Lines (May) 13 (3):1-4.

Fernandes, Edesio and Ann Varley, eds. 1998. Illegal Cities: Law and Urban Change in Developing Countries. London: Zed.

Gilbert, Alan. 2001. On the mystery of capital and the myths of Hernando de Soto: What difference does legal title make? Paper presented at the N-AERUS Workshop in Leuven, Belgium (June).

Kagawa, Ayako. 2001. Policy effects and tenure security perceptions of Peruvian urban land tenure regularization policy in the 1990s. Paper presented at the N-AERUS Workshop in Leuven, Belgium (June).

Mammen, David. 2001. Roundtable discussion for the International Division of the American Planning Association. Interplan (June):2-9.

Payne, Geoffrey. 2001. The mystery of capital: Why capitalism triumphs in the west and fails everywhere else. Habitat Debate (September) 7 (3):23.

Payne, Geoffrey, et al. Forthcoming 2002. Land, Rights and Innovations: Secure Land for the Urban Poor. London: International Technology Development Group (ITDG).

Riofrio, Gustavo. 1998. Why have families mortgaged so little? Paper presented at the Lincoln Institute workshop on Comparative Policy Perspectives on Urban Land Market Reform in Latin America, Southern Africa and Eastern Europe (July).

Zeledon, Aida. 2001. De facto and legal regularization programs in El Salvador. Paper presented at the Lincoln Institute workshop on Informal Land Markets: Land Tenure Regularization and Urban Upgrading Programs (October).

In the United States we are used to thinking about the university within the context of its host city. The University of Wisconsin in Madison, the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill and the University of Illinois in Urbana play major roles in driving the economies of those traditional college towns. Stanford University and Massachusetts Institute of Technology are examples of research universities that have served as incubators for new industries that have had significant economic and industrial impacts in Silicon Valley, California, and metropolitan Boston. The Julliard School in New York City, the Chicago Art Institute, and the film departments at the University of California (UCLA) and University of Southern California (USC) in Los Angeles also have had a significant effect on their local cultural landscapes.

After more than five years of focusing on the real estate development activities of U.S. colleges and universities, Lincoln Institute researchers are now investigating the roles that universities play in their host cities around the world. Will the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM), a 733-hectare campus in the middle of one of the world’s largest cities, be able to maintain autonomy from the federal government through its land policies? Can a university that serves Northern Ireland’s Catholics and Protestants succeed in building a new campus in an area known for poverty and intractable political violence? What lessons can we learn from the redevelopment of a German military barracks by the University of Lueneburg that might be applicable to other universities’ development efforts?

Universities are major players in many activities not traditionally associated with the ivory tower. They are employers, purchasers, engines of economic growth, innovators, cultural meccas, branders of place and, increasingly, major real estate developers. This last role creates a web of opportunities and challenges that are not only important to the future of universities but also extend throughout the politics and economics of cities.

Formal examinations of the university’s role in acquiring, managing, selling and developing real estate have not been a topic of academic and professional inquiry in the U.S. until recently, but these issues are even less frequently discussed in international circles. There are few comprehensive case studies and literally no multi-continent examinations of how urban universities operate in real estate and land development, even though there is widespread agreement over its growing importance. The contributions of universities to their cities, the nature of state higher education policy and the increasing role of private market actors in university expansion are all important features of urban land development today, although they are realized differently in various places.

To facilitate further exploration and comparison of these issues, a dozen international scholars from Europe, South America, Asia and Africa gathered at the Lincoln Institute in March 2004 to present papers and engage in a critique of their work. They quickly moved the discussion beyond the case studies into a broader conversation about the role of the university in the history and the future of national policy toward cities and how such policy is affecting and is affected by the global economy.

The Role of the State

Outside the U.S., the university is almost always a public institution; therefore university land development is closely intertwined with and often an integral part of local and/or national planning and development policies. The levels of autonomy in real estate development decision making experienced by international universities are also dramatically different from those of U.S. universities, because of their relative attachment to the state as both an agency and public institution.

Anne Haila of the University of Helsinki pointed out the strong history of planning in Finland, for example, where plans are laws that carry great weight and supply clear direction to university land use planning. All university real estate in Finland is owned and managed by the national real estate company, which strives for efficiency in all of its real estate strategies. Conflicts between universities and the property manager became especially prevalent after 1999, when university departments were ordered to pay the full price of rent for their premises; if departments increased their space they had to pay more, but if they decreased it they were compensated. The reasoning behind the policy was to abolish the idea of “free space” and to make university departments aware that bringing in new research and other revenue-generating projects would help them pay for additional space.

Carlos Morales-Schechinger presented another example of the relationship between university land policies and the state in his review of UNAM in Mexico City. UNAM has been autonomous from the federal government for more than 50 years and has “abandoned any intention of becoming a developer.” Instead, UNAM considers the land’s use value as a sanctuary, an area secure from government intervention, and a place for study, natural spaces and public art. Approximately 29 percent (212 ha) of the land has been declared an ecological zone due to its unique flora and fauna.

Morales-Schechinger suggests that UNAM’s reluctance to engage in current real estate development is related to its past history, when some of its land was acquired from the territory granted to the peasants after the 1910 Revolution. The university serves nearly 260,000 students from all socioeconomic groups and thus views itself as an independent and often vocal critic of the federal government.

Shifting City Growth Patterns

Changes in the nature and structure of the nation-state brought on by economic restructuring, new political alliances, changing demographics, and the decentralization of governmental responsibilities and mandates can bring about radical changes in the real estate development policies of universities. Three participants focusing on universities in Portugal, Germany and Finland described the conditions of student demand and changes in the technology of work that were forcing both expansions and relocations of universities (or parts of them) in an increasingly decentralized urban environment.

Isabel Breda-Vazquez, speaking about the University of Porto (UP), noted the demographic shift in the city center, where UP was originally located, when it decided to expand and relocate its engineering and science facilities outside of the city, due to increasing demand for those courses of study and changing employment patterns. Problems associated with the subsequent decline of the city center included physical degradation, social vulnerability problems, functional obsolescence of buildings and spaces, reduced economic activity and consumption, and relocated student housing.

Changes in political alliances and the fall of the Iron Curtain reduced Germany’s need for military barracks, according to Katrin Anacker, and this has resulted in the large-scale conversion of one such facility to university property in Lueneberg. Increased student enrollment, a shortage of classrooms and the fact that university buildings were scattered throughout the city were important factors in the University of Lueneburg’s decision to take advantage of the military’s abandonment of a nearby barracks. Although dealing specifically with the conversion of military property into university buildings, Anacker’s paper may be read for its insights into the reuse of other types of obsolete or abandoned industrial buildings.

The growth demands on public universities and the decentralization of governance are occurring in the face of competing issues of demographic shift out of the city and revitalization efforts focusing on older parts of cities. Many workshop attendees identified the theme of abandonment during these discussions, in the contexts of either the state or local government or the university abandoning the city. Universities almost everywhere are placed in critical positions as they actively develop land themselves, and thus can be seen as agents of urban change—to both the benefit and the detriment of the city.

David Perry argued that to discuss the university as an engine of growth may be only part of the picture. The modern university may be an engine of the city’s development by dint of attrition, becoming even more important to central city renewal by filling the vacuum created by the withdrawal of once dominant agents in both the public and private sectors.

University Development Zones

Several papers addressed universities that are their own “zones of development” or “cities unto themselves.” Abner Colmenares presented the case of the Central University of Venezuela, a public institution in Caracas, and its Rental Zone (Zona Rental) Plaza Venezuela project dating from the 1940s. The notion of the Zona Rental dates back to 1827, when Venezuelan President Simon Bolivar granted real estate properties and farms to the university, to support its faculty and provide for its upkeep.

Adopting as its model Columbia University’s approach to the development of Rockefeller Center in New York City, Central University created and transferred the land to an independent foundation (Andrés Bello Fund Foundation for Scientific Development of the Central University of Venezuela–FFABUCV), which was mandated to promote scientific research by generating financial resources through the development of rental zone properties. By late 2004, more than 40 million square feet of construction had been completed, creating public spaces for the city, a subway center and numerous rental income sites, including a mall.

Wilmar Salim presented a similarly expansive project, the relocation of four universities in Indonesia to rural land formerly occupied by a rubber plantation. The government’s decision to relocate the universities from the capital city of Bandung to the Jatinangor area 23 kilometers distant resulted in the development of a new town to service the large campus. While the planning for the university was carefully conceived, such was not the case for the town that grew up alongside it. Salim notes several serious problems resulting from this relocation: environmental deterioration of the rural area due to the increased population and construction; lack of adequate planning in terms of infrastructure; and negative effects on community institutions caused by the influx of a population much larger than and culturally different from the indigenous residents.

Contested Space

The topic of the university as a contested space was addressed by Haim Yacobi of Israel and Frank Gaffikin of Northern Ireland, both of whom spoke of the challenges for urban universities located in places of conflict. In the Northern Ireland case, an attempt was made to set up a branch of the University of Ulster in an embattled area of Protestant-Catholic conflict and economic deprivation in Belfast. Although U.S. President Bill Clinton and British Prime Minister Tony Blair were present at the groundbreaking, the project faltered due to the lengthy development time and turnover of leadership, coupled with the existing problems associated with a historically contested space. The result was a distinct loss of credibility for the university in the community. Gaffikin stressed that when universities enter into these kinds of situations, they have to see the projects through with strong civic leadership.

Yacobi discussed the siting of Hebrew University on Mount Scopus in Jerusalem, a decision made by the government rather than the university, as was the case in Belfast. According to Yacobi, relocating the university after the 1967 war had a fundamental role in judaizing Jerusalem.

Fabio Todeschini of South Africa also examined the roles and responsibilities of the university in shaping urban space in a place that was already contested. He noted that the University of Cape Town has undergone enormous change since the apartheid era; currently more than one-half of the student population is black, although the majority of professors are white. The development and real estate practices of these and other universities have both created and been affected by significant symbolic, economic and cultural changes in their countries.

The workshop participants agreed about the seeming contradiction between the importance of universities to their cities and political economies and the lack of formal study of this phenomenon. The meeting confirmed that, both locally and globally, universities have enduring, indeed even increasing, levels of importance in their cities and regions. It is also clear that land development policies are equally important to the universities, to the development futures of cities and to the policy relationship with the private market.

Barbara Sherry is a doctoral candidate at the University of Illinois at Chicago in the Department of Urban Planning, a research assistant at its Great Cities Institute (GCI), and an attorney.

The City and the University Project

The Lincoln Institute of Land Policy launched The City and the University Project five years ago, to study the changing relationships between universities and their immediate neighborhoods, cities and the society at large. The Lincoln Institute shares this interest in the role that universities play in their cities with many other organizations. However, our attempt to understand this role is motivated by questions regarding urban assets and the use of those assets.

According to the currently dominant paradigm of enlightened self-interest, universities engage the city with the realization that the economic well-being of the abutting community is directly correlated to its own health. Through this project we are attempting to articulate a philosophy that universities should serve society as a whole, not just their abutters. Our goal is to extend the thinking, conversation and actions of university-community-city relations beyond this paradigm.

Under the leadership of Rosalind Greenstein of the Lincoln Institute, David Perry of the Great Cities Institute (GCI) of the University of Illinois at Chicago, and Wim Wiewel of the University of Baltimore, key actors from every conceivable side of university real estate development practices (including university administrators and faculty, developers, city planners and managers, journalists, nonprofit groups, and members of federal and state agencies) have been invited to participate in workshops sponsored by the Lincoln Institute. Perry and Wiewel have edited a book of U.S. and Canadian case studies contributed by some of these participants. Titled The University as Urban Developer: Case Studies and Analysis, this book is being published this spring by M.E. Sharpe, Inc., in association with the Lincoln Institute.

As a natural outgrowth of their work in North America, Perry, Wiewel and Greenstein expanded their research collaboration with an international seminar built on case studies from several continents. The workshop in March 2004 generated papers that will become part of a new edited volume, tentatively titled The University, the City and the State: Comparative Studies of University Real Estate Development.

In 2005 the Institute will convene a roundtable of practitioners and scholars to examine the university-city relationship in a variety of dimensions, including political, historical and philosophical. Another course is intended for neighborhood groups located near universities that face impressive challenges because of the particular role universities play in their district and their city. The course offers such groups the opportunity to learn how to best use their resources, relative to their university neighbors, to improve their urban environment.

The Institute will also offer a professional training opportunity for private-sector developers who work with and for universities that are extending their boundaries as demand increases for new laboratories, residential spaces, athletic facilities and other amenities. In addition, we are developing a special Web site for the urban university project that will facilitate communication among and between practitioners, policy makers and scholars.

Este artículo es una adaptación de la introducción a Nature and Cities: The Ecological Imperative in Urban Design and Planning (La naturaleza y las ciudades: El imperativo ecológico en el diseño y la planificación urbana), una compilación de ensayos e imágenes realizados por arquitectos paisajistas, arquitectos y planificadores internacionales de reconocido prestigio, de quienes se presentan aquí algunos trabajos. La publicación de este libro por el Instituto Lincoln de Políticas de Suelo, en asociación con la Facultad de Arquitectura de la Universidad de Texas en Austin y la editorial George F. Thompson, está programada para junio de 2016.

Todo parece tan claro desde el aire, donde los detalles no estorban. A 10.000 metros de altura podemos ver los resultados de nuestra obra por todo el suelo que se abre bajo nosotros, como si el paisaje fuera nuestro reflejo en el espejo. Como sabemos, los paisajes no mienten; son la expresión de todo lo que hacemos aquí en la Tierra.

Algunos caminos corren paralelos a los ríos y valles: no hace falta mucho ingenio en este caso. Otros caminos convergen sobre asentamientos, como si de sendas de vacas que llevan al depósito de agua se tratase, o pueden seguir los pasos de ciervos y otros senderos de animales o contornos topográficos, y pronto se asemejan a la majestad orgánica de una tela de araña. Imaginen la ciudad donde El Greco (1541–1614), se estableció y trabajó, Toledo, España, vista desde el aire: perfección en forma urbana orgánica.

La vieja pradera norteamericana, virgen hasta hace dos siglos, muestra ahora las cuadrículas de grandes granjas que no dejan espacio para ninguna otra vegetación que no sean los cultivos, y una fina línea de árboles a lo largo de riberas de los ríos y las orillas de los arroyos, como si fuera el diezmo simbólico a la naturaleza y la vida silvestre. Y los círculos de pivote central de 16 hectáreas de maíz, soja o alfalfa (la trifecta de la agricultura industrial) se ven como si alguien hubiera lanzado, en perfecta simetría, enormes monedas sobre el suelo. Como pavimentos de cultivos que se extienden hasta el horizonte, incluso de un estado a otro, toda esta obra humana es consecuencia de una política agrícola federal en completo desequilibrio con la naturaleza. No es de extrañar entonces que las mariposas y un sinnúmero de otras criaturas y plantas tengan que luchar contra estos paisajes tan fuera de toda lógica.

Nuevos sitios de extracción de gas natural han aparecido de manera tan súbita y generalizada, permeando gran parte de las Grandes Praderas y el interior del Oeste de América del Norte, como si enormes perros de pradera alimentados con esteroides hubieran excavado estas grandes extensiones de terreno. Es como estar reviviendo los Viajes de Gulliver. Mientras tanto, minas a cielo abierto generan depresiones inmensas en el suelo como si allí hubieran chocado meteoritos del espacio exterior. Las espectaculares tonalidades rojizas, rojas, doradas y arenosas de estas minas contrastan fuertemente con el terreno circundante, como si ellas, también, fueran obras de arte grabadas, pobres intentos de recreación de un Coliseo romano subterráneo o de un Gran Cañón del Colorado en miniatura. Al tiempo, nuevos aerogeneradores de color blanco brillante, algunos con una envergadura de 126 metros y 90 metros de altura, aparecen como si un cirujano gigante hubiera aplicado puntos de sutura de diferentes longitudes y formas en el suelo y el mar, a pesar de que un sinnúmero de pájaros mueren por el impacto.

Pueblos y ciudades se concentran a lo largo de la costa frente al mar, con pocas defensas para proteger a las comunidades de unas marejadas que probablemente dentro de un siglo serán por lo menos 90 centímetros más alta que ahora. Este mismo riesgo es aplicable a los pueblos y ciudades que se encuentran a lo largo de los ríos, ya sean de caudal grande como pequeño, que por supuesto desean bajar y subir como la marea, desbordándose y, de tanto en tanto, anegando las calles. Aun ciudades de categoría mundial, como Chicago, Sídney, Tokio o Toronto, vistas desde el aire parecen construcciones de LEGO, y, desde el suelo, códigos de barras, por las que automóviles y camiones circulan como hormiguitas atareadas, y los trenes se deslizan como serpientes por el cemento.

Los desiertos, durante largo tiempo avanzadillas yermas de bíblica desolación, están ahora moteados de oasis en forma de pueblos, ciudades y centros turísticos nuevos, con sus casas anidadas entre piscinas azul marino, como si estas fueran un requisito de entrada al vecindario. Lagos relucientes son absorbidos por embalses gigantes, y el agua se evapora en el cielo seco y sin nubes. Un rompecabezas de jardines de un verde improbable destaca entre extensos campos de golf de un verde aún más absurdamente exuberante. Se podría pensar que una nueva escuela de arte llamada “cubismo paisajista” hubiera realizado dibujos torcidos sobre el suelo.

Sin embargo, también hay extensiones excepcionales de suelo sin desarrollar. Caminos como el de los Apalaches, el Continental, el de la Edad de Hielo, el Grande Randonnée, el de la Gran Patagonia, el Natchez, el del Macizo del Pacífico, el Te Araroa y el Tokai brindan la oportunidad de adentrarse durante largas distancias en el corazón y el alma de sus respectivos países. Hay bosques que cubren miles y miles de kilómetros cuadrados, aliviando a un planeta con urgente necesidad de nuevos pulmones para procesar los crecientes niveles de dióxido de carbono (CO₂). Cuencas y humedales todavía intactos conservan su lugar natural entre la tierra y el agua, de un valor incalculable como suministro de agua a los pueblos y ciudades corriente abajo, y un hábitat para peces, insectos, pájaros y otras formas de vida silvestre. La agricultura de cercanía prospera en armonía con el terreno y los principios vivificantes de la Ley de Conservación del Suelo del 27 de abril de 1935. Y cada vez más ciudades hacen alarde de sistemas integrados de parques, espacios abiertos y vías verdes, demostrando que la naturaleza puede volver al escenario urbano y mejorar las comunidades tanto biológica como socioeconómicamente.[1]

El suelo nos dice tantas cosas. Y la arquitectura de paisajes, la planificación y el diseño urbano, y la arquitectura tienen que continuar con su tarea pionera de ofrecer un enfoque ecológico al diseño, la planificación y la gestión de nuestros distintos paisajes: urbano, suburbano, rural, regional, social y silvestre. Todo comienza en el suelo, en la naturaleza y en nuestras comunidades, en las múltiples ecologías y economías y culturas que encapsulan nuestro propio terreno, dondequiera se encuentre.

Pero gran parte del suelo ya es urbano, y ese patrón extendido y en expansión de asentamientos no parece tener fin. Así que, ¿cómo podemos hacerlo mejor? Este escenario y estas cuestiones constituyen el tema de La naturaleza y las ciudades: El imperativo ecológico en el diseño y la planificación urbana.

Aun cuando el uso del suelo parece relativamente claro y simple desde el aire, desde el terrero el panorama se hace más complicado, debido a los inevitables detalles. Todos los aspectos de la vida —seres humanos entrelazados con la naturaleza, con mayor o menor éxito— aparecen ante nuestros ojos, penetran en nuestros oídos, se depositan en nuestra piel y nuestra ropa en forma de punto de rocío, humedad, aire seco, luz del sol, brisas vespertinas y temperaturas frescas o cálidas. Esta es mucha información para comprender, incluso dentro del alcance limitado de nuestros sentidos.

Quizás este panorama abarque su jardín o su calle; el único pozo de agua del que usted y su comunidad obtienen agua; un lugar predilecto de reunión; el lugar de vacaciones favorito; una región devastada por sequías, inundaciones o incendios; un lugar que se está recuperando de un terremoto, un desprendimiento, de la delincuencia o la guerra. La imaginación nos puede transportar a cualquier lugar que queramos, pero hay un balance final para esta indagación. Al imaginarse o caminar o viajar o manejar por el paisaje que lo rodea, absorba todo lo que contiene: cada brizna de césped que adorna su jardín o sobrevive en la grieta de una acera; cada campo, plaza o pradera que puede formar parte de su vida cotidiana; cada choza, condominio o mansión que le da albergue; cada árbol, vía verde o parque que embellece su espacio; cada entidad y actividad económica que se le presenta; cada aroma que emana de una panadería o fundición; cada aliento que inspira, que inevitablemente es un cóctel inhalable de los elementos naturales de la Tierra (arena, polen y polvo) y todos los productos químicos provocados por el ser humano, demasiado numerosos para poder enumerarlos.

Ahora que ha visto, escuchado y sentido ese paisaje, imagine que repentinamente está a cargo de la escena. Toda su familia, todo su barrio, aldea, ciudad, región y país dependen de usted. Primero, para que explique cada aspecto de lo que percibe y le dé sentido, ya sea en una asamblea, en un aula o, incluso, en un consejo de dirección de empresa. Y segundo, para vislumbrar, comunicar, planificar y diseñar mejoras a lo que está viendo. ¿Por dónde empezaría? ¿Qué haría? ¿Bajo qué circunstancias haría o podría implementar cambios? ¿Y cómo? ¿De abajo arriba, o de arriba abajo? ¿De manera diplomática, democrática o dictatorial? ¿Cómo piensa mantener, nutrir y quizás cambiar con el tiempo su visión y su cadena concomitante de acciones? ¿Y quién lo hará, bajo qué circunstancias o autoridad?

Este es el terreno que hereda el arquitecto paisajista, el arquitecto y el planificador. Vuelva ahora a su “visión” de lo que quiere que sea el lugar, y considere un proceso por el cual el cambio se busca y concreta prestando atención a tres temas fundamentales y dominantes: la necesidad humana de agua limpia, comida abundante y segura, y cobijo; la necesidad humana de bienestar económico; y la necesidad natural de cuidar y sanar el suelo, la naturaleza en sí. ¿Cómo se puede trabajar con estructura, propósito y significación para brindar satisfacción, valor y bienestar público? ¿Cómo se agrega valor al lugar, las comunidades, ciudades y regiones con diseños y planes que nos liberen del pensamiento único, y nos permitan adquirir una guía de referencia en sus múltiples manifestaciones? De gran importancia también: ¿Qué hacemos, como ciudadanos, como parte de una población urbana cada vez mayor, para reconectarnos con el mundo natural del cual seguimos dependiendo, y cómo adaptamos los beneficios de la ecología a la vida biológica y socioeconómica?

Aunque la naturaleza es el centro de nuestro ser y de cualquier otra forma de vida —planta, árbol, suelo, agua y roca— sobre la Tierra, con demasiada frecuencia nuestras conexiones humanas con la naturaleza pasan a segundo plano frente a los intereses preponderantes de todo tipo que compiten por obtener ventajas sociales y económicas sin estar sujetos a una ética del suelo, como la promovida por Aldo Leopold.[2] Cuando miramos los variados paisajes del suelo, nos preguntamos cómo es nuestro desempeño como seres humanos en el cuidado de este generoso planeta.

Si uno viaja lo suficiente en tiempo y distancia, todavía puede encontrar comunidades y culturas antiguas que viven en contacto íntimo con los sistemas naturales que las rodean Las casas en el Amazonas siguen construyéndose sobre pilotes para permitir las fluctuaciones anuales y estacionales del segundo río más largo y la cuenca hídrica más grande del mundo. Las casas sureñas de los Estados Unidos han usado tradicionalmente los porches delanteros y laterales para proporcionar sombra y cierto alivio del notable calor y la humedad de la estación estival, permitiendo al mismo tiempo la socialización entre vecinos, como se puede observar cualquier día de la semana en Vicksburg, Mississippi, en cuyas calles se alinean las tradicionales “casas escopeta” con umbríos porches delanteros animados por la conversación. Muchos escandinavos todavía usan ingeniosamente la madera y la fina artesanía del tallado para construir unas de las cabañas-casa térmicamente más eficientes del mundo, aun cuando los inviernos nórdicos son de los más duros del planeta. Y cada vez más, las iniciativas LEED (sigla en inglés de Liderazgo en el Diseño Energético y Medioambiental) están ayudando a transformar la nueva arquitectura del mundo en estructuras térmicamente eficientes, desde el Centro Aldo Leopold en Baraboo, Wisconsin, alimentado por energía geotérmica y ganador del Premio LEED de Platino, hasta la revitalización del Área de Mejores Prácticas Urbanas (UBPA) de Shanghái Expo, primer proyecto fuera de América del Norte en recibir un Premio LEED de Platino al Desarrollo Vecinal.

Además de LEED, los arquitectos paisajistas, planificadores, ecólogos y otros diseñaron la Iniciativa de Sitios Sostenibles (SITES). SITES, ahora administrado por Green Building Certification Inc., fue concebido como LEED para el aire libre. SITES fue desarrollado por medio de proyectos pilotos, como los de Andropogon, OLIN y James Corner Field Operations. Entre los proyectos piloto que recibieron certificación se encuentran Shoemaker Green de Andropogon, en el campus de la Universidad de Pensilvania y el Centro Phipps de Paisajes Sostenibles en Pittsburgh, Pensilvania, el Canal Park de OLIN en el Distrito de Columbia y Woodland Discovery Playground de James Corner Field Operations en Shelby Farms, Memphis, Tennessee.

Sin embargo, con el paso de cada generación, cada vez más urbana, las conexiones directas con la naturaleza y sus beneficios se reducen a toda velocidad. En demasiadas ciudades del mundo, la naturaleza se deja para el final. La siguiente historia es más que común:

Hace no mucho tiempo, diez años más o menos, leí en un periódico un artículo que me llamó la atención: Se le pedía a un niño de Harlem, en la ciudad de Nueva York, su opinión sobre la naturaleza. El niño dijo que la brizna de césped que crecía a sus pies, emergiendo de una grieta en la acera de cemento, era para él la encarnación de la naturaleza. Era todo lo que él necesitaba del mundo natural. He aquí un signo de vida silvestre en su calle, su lugar en el mundo. La brizna de césped verde, que de alguna manera se las arreglaba para sobrevivir ocho cuadras al sur del Central Park, proveía de la presencia elemental de la naturaleza en el mundo urbano que era su zona de confort.[3]

Incluso en ciudades agraciadas por representaciones más exuberantes de naturaleza, estos espacios verdes parecen con demasiada frecuencia zonas aisladas para el uso diario o el visitante ocasional, como pequeños museos o zoológicos. No es necesario que sea así, no hace falta que esta sea una aspiración no intencional o una consecuencia de la ignorancia de los múltiples beneficios que la naturaleza nos concede cuando se integra más plenamente en la trama urbana de cualquier pueblo o ciudad, ya sea en Jerusalén o Medellín o Stuttgart, Arkansas. Sabemos cómo hacer mejor las cosas. Los arquitectos paisajistas, arquitectos y planificadores nos han mostrado frecuentemente el camino.

Entonces, ¿cómo es posible que pueblos, ciudades y condados sigan ignorando las llanuras inundables y el nivel del mar, y permitan a propietarios, emprendedores y centros turísticos construir y reconstruir en áreas que sufren regularmente los embates de inundaciones crónicas y marejadas ciclónicas? ¿Cómo es posible que una empresa de servicios públicos viole las reglas de planificación más elementales y de sentido común, y se le permita construir un gasoducto de gas natural de 900 kilómetros por una ruta que no sólo penetra y divide el hábitat crítico de especies raras y en peligro de extinción en bosques nacionales, sino que también atraviesa un área conocida por su soberbio paisaje cárstico y profundas dolinas, poniendo en peligro el acuífero que se encuentra bajo su trayectoria, fuente de capital importancia para el suministro de agua fresca de ciudades, pueblos y granjas de toda la región? ¿Cómo es posible que las compañías mineras no estén obligadas a cerrar el ciclo, contemplando la restauración ecológica y la recuperación de las áreas de proyecto como parte de su negocio? ¿Cómo es posible que se haya elegido a Rio de Janeiro como sede de los XXXI Juegos Olímpicos (agosto de 2016), sabiendo a ciencia cierta que los eventos acuáticos se van a llevar a cabo en la Bahía de Guanabara, cuyas condiciones a veces son equivalentes a aguas residuales sin tratar? Obviamente, quienes han tomado estas decisiones no tienen en cuenta los principios y prácticas del diseño y la planificación ecológica en su visión del mundo, y cuidado con las consecuencias de haber optado por ignorancia y codicia.

La promesa de un diseño y planificación ecológica para beneficiar la salud y el bienestar de nuestras comunidades y ciudades en todo el mundo es suficiente para que nos pongamos en acción, la pongamos en práctica, comencemos a cuidarla. Pero con demasiada frecuencia, al concebir como ciudadanos el diseño y la planificación urbana, dejamos de lado lo obvio: nosotros, los seres humanos, por nuestra mera presencia en casi todas las esferas de la Tierra, somos los participantes esenciales no sólo de la danza eterna con la naturaleza que es parte de la vida y de la condición humana, sino también de la salud y el bienestar general de nuestro propio suelo.

Los ensayistas de La naturaleza y las ciudades revelan que se ha realizado, y se sigue realizando, una labor monumental en el diseño y la planificación ecológica de nuestras ciudades y comunidades en general. Puesto que los arquitectos paisajistas, arquitectos y planificadores lo han hecho repetidamente y en todo el orbe, nosotros, como sociedad, podemos afirmar que sabemos cómo trabajar colaborativamente con todos los demás participantes para proporcionar agua potable, comida y cobijo; reducir la escorrentía en las calles de la ciudades; adaptar áreas propensas a inundaciones y marejadas ciclónicas; ubicar en forma segura un corredor para servicios públicos y diseñarlo para otros fines que no sean sólo un gasoducto de gas natural obtenido por medio de la descontrolada práctica turbulenta del fracking

Pero hace falta progresar aún más, sea cual fuere el lugar donde vivamos, porque el mundo se está haciendo más urbano y las consecuencias del cambio climático y la pobreza, enfermedades, conflictos y guerras son reales. Aquí también, los arquitectos paisajistas, arquitectos y planificadores se han dedicado históricamente al proceso de comprender el mundo natural a nuestro alcance y sus múltiples manifestaciones prácticas, donde los detalles y las interconexiones son importantes. Y con sus diseños y planes, algunos ya centenarios, podemos ver ejemplos de trabajos terminados que han mejorado este mundo. Los paisajistas, arquitectos y planificadores han ofrecido históricamente visiones alternativas a la práctica fallida de la serendipia y el pensamiento único que ha dominado durante demasiado tiempo el punto de vista público y privado.