Cities are complex systems. We should analyse them as such

They don't get more complex than this: Lower Manhattan. Image: Getty.

The way we design our cities needs a serious rethink. After thousands of years of progress in urban development, we plateaued some 60 years ago. Cities are not safer, healthier, more efficient, or more equitable. They are getting worse on these measures. The Conversation

The statistics on chronic disease, rising road tolls and congestion in our urban environments paint a bleak future. The clues to why lie in how we think about and design our cities.

Cities are highly complex, yet we are not thinking about them that way. We argue cities are complex and sociotechnical in nature. This means that, stripped back, they comprise people and communities interacting with one another and with objects (such as roads, buildings and parks) within a range of urban settings or contexts.

Complex sociotechnical systems (urban, transportation or warfare) are difficult to analyse. However, ergonomics and human factors methods such as cognitive work analysis allow an understanding of the whole system rather than the parts.

Cognitive work analysis was originally developed to support the analysis and design of complex engineered systems. We are using it to analyse and design cities.

The quest for better cities

Theoretical and practical efforts to create better cities have a long history. Before Walter Christaller’s “central place theory” and Charles Lindblom’s exploration of the “science of muddling through”, there was Ebenezer Howard’s utopian “garden city movement”, the enduring “concentric zone model” of Ernest Burgess, and the “multiple nuclei model” of Chauncy Harris and Edward Ullman.

More recent approaches provide guidance on good city structures relating to quality of life, infrastructure efficiency and city futures. The Congress for the New Urbanism advocates for quality of life through “walkable” urban neighbourhoods. Transit-orientated developments seek to have commercial, residential and community facilities close to public transport.

In the 21st century we recognise and conceive “creative”, “smart” and “knowledge” cities. These focus on the use of human resources, social capital, education, innovation, communication and digital technologies.

We argue that the limitation of these approaches is their reliance on sets of standards and guidelines. They provide reductionist principles for how cities “should” be designed and developed.

While useful for articulating the goals and values we would like for cities, their consequences within the broader city system are not well considered.

Cities as complex sociotechnical systems

The priority of sociological and technological systems is to optimise the interactions between people, technology and environments.

Cognitive work analysis is concerned with constraints rather than goals. It is based on the notion that by making constraints explicit, and exploiting them, we enhance system performance. It comprises interrelated phases including work domain analysis.

This approach allows us to model the city system across five hierarchical levels. This detailed model describes and links the purposes, values and priorities, the activities that are performed, right through to the physical objects that make up the city and the functions they serve.

Work domain analysis in action – tracing how public art contributes to a footpath design.

The findings are compelling. For example, we can show that public art on a footpath has the function of both a landmark and a form of communication, in the same way signage does. This is then linked to improved way-finding, legibility and social interaction in the street. And that, in turn, results in greater levels of perceived and actual safety, user comfort and a sense of community.

Ultimately, this supports both the technical intention of a footpath, as a pedestrian right of way, and its urban design contribution, as an important social place. As it is now possible to understand the system-wide implications of including or excluding key elements, we can start to design better cities.

Additional analyses have focused on: the design of active transport corridors; public space; main streets; school zones; playgrounds; and urban design and CCTV. The findings demonstrate the complexity in these environments and show how existing design approaches may not be fit for purpose.


Exploring a new approach

In a rapidly changing world in which smart cities are desired and urban megacities are a reality, we need to explore new knowledge and new approaches. Current descriptive and disparate approaches to the review, analysis and design of our cities need to be challenged.

The profession and politics of the built environment continue to operate within discipline silos. Planning, architecture, engineering, transport, water, power, commercial and retail development, urban design, community services and more are all dealt with in relative isolation. The links between them are only examined as necessary, or as legislatively required.

As a result, our cities are a legacy of incremental solutions, fragmented decision-making and competing urban priorities.

Managing complexity in city design is challenging. There are very few ways to examine all of the parts of urban development. We contend that ergonomics, human factors and sociotechnical systems methods offer a way forward.

While it may seem far-reaching to apply the methods used to design work, transportation and warfare systems to urban development, it has been shown to have significant value.

Our approach allows decision-makers, designers and the community to understand the complex nature of humans, technology and their environments. It is possible to create cities that cope with complexity rather than collapse under the weight of it.

Nicholas Stevens is senior lecturer & researcher in urban design, and Paul Salmon is professor of human factors, at the University of the Sunshine Coast.

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

 
 
 
 

Can you have capitalism without capital? Brighton, Ankara, Ghent and the intangible economy

The Fusebox, Brighton. Image: WiredSussex.

As you head north out of Brighton on the A23 things take a distinctly granular turn. The cool bars and trendy eateries give way to second-hand shops and nail bars.

Looming over the area, New England House, an eight-storey brutalist office block, is home to Wired Sussex, a collection of digital and media companies, as well as its offshoot The Fusebox. Here, a collection of entrepreneurs, tech visionaries and creative technologists are seeking to transform their ideas into successful businesses. This island of cutting-edge thinking, surrounded by the evidence of the glaring consequences of austerity, could stand as a synecdoche for the suddenly vogueish concept of the “intangible economy”.

Towards the end of last year, on Radio 4’s Start The Week, Jonathan Haskel, author of Capitalism Without Capital, laid out the features of this brave new economy. The ideas are scalable, have sunk costs, their benefits spill over, and they have synergies with other intangible assets. All of these things are, to a greater or lesser extent, attributes featured in the virtual reality games, apps for care home workers, and e-commerce ideas mapped out by the bright sparks in the Fusebox.

Its manager, Rosalie Hoskins, explains that it exists to support the work of small companies doing creative work. Within these clean white walls they can bounce their ideas off each other and reap the fruits of collaboration. “We’ll provide the doors,” she says. But “it’s up to them to open them.”

One innovative thinker hoping to make her entrance is Maf’j Alvarez. She tells me she studied for a masters in digital media arts at the University of Brighton, and describes herself as an ‘interactive artist’. “Right now I am playing with virtual reality,” she tells me. “There’s a lot of physics involved in the project which explores weight and light. It definitely has a practical application and commercial potential. VR can be used to help people with dementia and also as a learning tool for young people.”

The Fusebox, she says, is “about collaboration. The residents of the Fusebox are in all a similar situation.”

The willingness to work together, identified by Haskell as a key element of the intangible economy, is evident in the Fusebox’s partnership with like minded innovators in Ankara. Direnç Erşahin from İstasyon, a centre for “social incubation” based in the Turkish capital, visited the Fusebox toward the end of last year.

“It was a good opportunity to exchange knowledge about the practice of running a creative hub – managing the place, building a community and so on,” he says.

Erşahin and his colleagues have launched a fact-checking platform – teyit.org – which he believes will provide “access to true information”. The co-operation between the Fusebox in Brighton and İstasyon in Ankara  is “a good opportunity to reinforce a data-oriented approach and university and society interaction,” he argues.

But the interaction between wider society and the denizens of the intangible world is often marked by friction and, ironically, a failure of communication.

This point is underlined by Aral Balkan, who runs a company called indie.ie which aims to develop ethical technologies. “There’s a good reason we have a trust problem,” he says. “It’s because people in mainstream technology companies have acted in ways that have violated our trust. They have developed systems that prey upon individuals rather than empowering them.”

A former Brighton resident, Balkan is almost a walking definition of Theresa May’s “citizen of nowhere”. He is a regular speaker on the TED and digital circuits, and I crossed paths frequently with him when I covered the industry for Brighton’s local newspaper. He left the city last year, chiefly, he tells me, in protest over the UK government’s overweening “snooper’s charter” laws.


He has Turkish and French citizenship and is now based in Malmö, Sweden, while working with the city of Ghent on a radical redevelopment of the internet. “Ghent is a beautiful example of how location affects the work,” he tells me. “They don’t want to be a smart city, they want to encourage smart citizens. We are exploring alternatives.”

Karl-Filip Coenegrachts, chief strategy officer at the City of Ghent, is another believer in the synergies made possible by the intangible economy. “The historic perspective has impacted on the psychology and DNA of the city,” he says. “The medieval castle built to protect the nobility from the citizens not the other way around. People in Ghent want to have their say.”

Left out of this perspective, of course, are those who cannot make their voice heard or who feel they are being ignored. The fissures are easy to find if you look. The future of Belgium’s coalition government, for example, is threatened by Flemish nationalists in the wake of a scandal over the forced repatriation of 100 Sudanese migrants. In Ankara, President Recep Tayyip Erdogan has purged local government and continues to stamp on any dissent.

In the UK, the gig economy makes headlines for all the wrong reasons. Back in the area around the Fusebox, the sharp observer will notice, alongside the homeless people curled up in sleeping bags in charity shop doorways, a stream of gig-worker bikers zooming from one order to another.

The intangible economy throws up all-too tangible downsides, according to Maggie Dewhurst, vice chair at the Independent Workers Union of Great Britain. She gives short shrift to the idea of ‘capitalism without capital’.

“It does get a bit irritating when they muddy the waters and use pseudo academic definitions. They pretend tangible assets don’t exist or are free.”

In fact, she adds, “The workers are a human resource.”