Jane Jacobs’ Déjà Lu Thoughts and Notes on Jane Jacobs, Dark Age Ahead, 2004 by Shoukry Roweis§ Dark Age Ahead is Jane Jacobs’s latest book (released in the spring of 2004). This is forty-three years after the first publication of her Death and Life of Great American Cities in 1961. Although Jacobs has written more than seven books since 1961, it was Death and Life …, almost single-handedly, that made her a star. Most of her other books are too ‘technical’ to appeal to the general reader, and not scholarly enough to interest academics. In Dark Age Ahead, Jacobs (and/or her marketing advisors) seems intent on re-creating the popular hype of the early sixties. I am very doubtful that this book will succeed in doing that. What you are about to read is not a review, nor a summary. This is why I call it “thoughts and notes”. I will start by sketching the structure of Dark Age Ahead and will follow up with thoughts on seven sets of issues: The weak connection between the title and the contents; The ‘tired’ contents (what I call déjà lu); The uselessness of the analytical framework; The rambling, disjointed and haphazard text (despite Jacobs’s reputation for crafty English); o The inappropriateness of her extreme empiricism; o Matters of method, logic and evidence. These are covered in an appendix in order to avoid interrupting the main document with lengthy ‘technical’ discussions. As well, this is meant to give readers a choice of how much time and energy they wish to devote to Dark Age Ahead. o The author and the publisher: apportioning responsibilities. o o o o To the best of my ability, I have tried to focus on informing readers rather than on polemicising. This has not been easy, and probably I have not always succeeded. § shoukry.roweis@utoronto.ca. Please send me your comments. Structure of the Book: Dark Age Ahead is composed in eight chapters. The first chapter outlines what Jacobs sees as the hazard we face. It also lays out what is ostensibly the analytical perspective Jacobs wishes to bring to bear on our impending decline. Here, she introduces us to her notion of “mass amnesia,” the alleged cause and dynamic by which societies drift into a dark age. The next five chapters discuss what the author calls ‘ominous signs of decay’ in five key pillars of North American culture: community and family, higher education, science and technology, government responsiveness and taxing practices, and the self-policing of the learned professions. Jacobs thinks that her choice of these five pillars, as opposed to numerous other possible ones, is not arbitrary, but she does not explain or defend that view. Then, in Chapters Two through Six, she gives examples of signs of decay without, however, referring to the analytical perspective woven in Chapter One around the notion of “mass amnesia.” I will return to this later. Chapter Seven contains what Jacobs describes as “practical suggestions for reversing some intractable deteriorations” (p. 25)1. The purpose of the last chapter is not clear. It returns to a diffuse and wideranging discussion of the ‘history’ of dark ages and tries to link this to the shift beyond agrarian economic structures. Jacobs ends the book by urging us to uphold and hold on to the core value of democracy, a theme sadly conspicuous by its absence in Dark Age Ahead. The Title vs. the Contents: It is hard to believe the extent to which the title of the book is unrelated to its contents. Dark Age Ahead is mostly an extended attack on the automobile and low-density suburban environments. The five core chapters — Two through Six — contain hardly any references to the theme indicated by the title. In and of itself, this may be considered as no more than an oddity. Marketing and other considerations frequently result in such weak connections between titles and contents. In the present context, however, this disconnection is part of an array of puzzling and frustrating discrepancies. Therefore it cannot be set aside as ‘just’ an unfortunate choice of title. Déjà lu: In the First Chapter, Jacobs leads the reader to expect the next five chapters to discuss ‘ominous signs of decay’ in her chosen five pillars of contemporary culture. This expectation does not materialize. Instead, Jacobs takes the reader through her old, and tired, attacks on the automobile, highways, traffic engineers, planners, economists, and, of course, suburbs. Chapter Two, “Families Rigged to Fail,” does not in fact discuss the perils facing families and communities. It talks instead about housing shortages and the 1 Throughout, I simply cite the page number when referring to Dark Age Ahead. 2 importance of informal neighbourly relations, and gradually veers off into the familiar attack on the automobile. “Not TV or illegal drugs but the automobile has been the chief destroyer of American communities” (p. 37). And while she is at it, Jacobs does not miss the chance to hurl insults at Robert Moses2 (the public works baron in New York City during the 1940s, 50s, and 60s). This ‘naturally’ leads her to an equally familiar lament about how General Motors, Firestone, Standard Oil and “the likes of Moses and La Guardia” (p. 41) conspired to kill urban public transit in order to safeguard the monopoly of the automobile. As in Death and Life …, this is followed by the standard criticisms of suburbia. Chapter Two ends abruptly with some observations whose intent is to draw parallels between our times and those of the failing Roman communities. Families and communities in our times are obviously facing serious troubles and traumas. It would be folly to imagine that these are primarily caused by housing shortages, automobiles, highways, and suburbia. If anything, it is probably the other way around. Unemployment results in inadequate family incomes leading directly to housing difficulties. Easy exposure of teenagers to drugs and crime in the inner city prompts families to move to the suburbs. And so on. Chapter Three, “Credentialing Versus Educating”3, actually discusses education only in the last three pages. The first seventeen pages give us more déjà lu : the story of the US Interstate Highway System (in the 1950s); the way the automobile was made into an all-American cultural icon; and the way highways destroy viable communities. When Jacobs finally does start writing about credentialing vs. educating, she does no more than re-assert the position with which she started: “[t]he more successful credentialing became … the more it dominated education” (p. 62). This is an important statement. It makes a demonstrable claim. But researching the matter, providing evidence and making a case, does not seem to interest our author. I leafed through the pages of Dark Age Ahead before I bought it. The title of Chapter Four, “Science Abandoned,” struck a chord with me – a lifetime spent in academia has convinced me that this is true. I looked forward to reading this chapter. I was, again, thoroughly disappointed. Jacobs uses three examples to show that science has been compromised. Let us set aside the question of whether anything resembling an adequate case for such an awesome thesis can be made on the basis of only three examples4. 2 Robert Moses died in 1981. His ‘era’ had died long before. Neither of these facts spared him Jacobs’ characteristically vicious, and at times uncivilized, insults. See pp. 37- 41. It is worth noting that cities like Boston, Chicago, Newark, St. Louis, and Seattle did almost exactly what was done in New York in the 1940s, 50s, and 60s. Yet they did not have Moses. 3 The title of Chapter Three, “Credentialing Versus Educating”, foretells the chapter’s failure. There is no inherent contradiction between credentialing graduates and educating them. Jacobs tries to show that institutions of higher learning engage in credentialism and assumes that this ‘proves’ that they have undermined or abandoned the goal of education. It does not. See also page xiv of the Appendix. 4 See the Section on extreme empiricism below. 3 Let us also forget for now the equally important question of what criteria may reasonably be used to judge the standards of scientific production in a given society or era. If we must settle for Jacobs’ extreme empiricism, her near fixation on making grand generalisations on the basis of a few anecdotes, we would at least expect her to select examples that match the scope and weight of the thesis at hand. The author could have discussed counter-insurgency ‘research’ and how it was, and probably still is, secretly conducted and used to sabotage legitimate political change in other countries5. She could have analysed the interference of pharmaceutical companies in medical research whose conclusions go against, or threaten to go against, the interests of these companies6. NASA’s two unthinkable disasters, and the ‘science’ underpinning them, might have provided yet other examples suitable in scope and seriousness7. Instead, Jacobs uses two virtually identical cases of street closures, a case of a severe heat wave that resulted in tragic loss of life in Chicago, and a ‘discussion’ of import-replacement vs. export-promotion economic expansion. One may justifiably ask: What in these examples is especially illustrative of the abandonment of scientific standards? In my view, none of the three examples the author chose provides anything particularly revealing. Their only merit is that they offer a pretext for rehashing old convictions and surprisingly lasting grudges. The two anecdotes regarding road closures permit Jacobs yet another opportunity to insult transportation planners — she calls them traffic engineers — as well as the entire field of ‘traffic engineering’. She writes: “It is popularly assumed that when universities give science degrees in traffic engineering … they are recognizing aboveboard expert knowledge. But they aren’t. They are perpetuating a fraud upon students and upon the public when they award credentials in this supposed expertise” (p. 72). This is more déjà lu. Regardless, 5 See, for example, Horowitz, 1967 on the ill-conceived and ill-fated ‘Project Camelot’, a project launched and financed by the US Defence Department in the early 1960s. Many universities and research organizations took grants and for years conducted secret counter-insurgency ‘research’ — nothing more than sophisticated espionage — in countries where popular uprisings threatened US interests. These included Chile, Colombia, Laos, Nigeria, Senegal, Venezuela, Vietnam, and Uruguay, to mention just a few. The project was cancelled in 1965 when the Department could no longer contain the controversies that erupted internationally when information about the ‘research’ and about some of the researchers leaked to the public. 6 See, for example, Valenstein 1998 on how the Boots pharmaceutical company pressured and intimidated Dr. Betty Dong of the University of California at San Francisco in 1990 when her nearly completed research yielded results that were unfavourable to Boots. The company tried to pressure top administrators at the University to terminate the study. As well, see Chernavsky 2004, for documentation and additional references on the Nancy Olivieri case (1998) in Toronto’s Hospital for Sick Children. Ms. Olivieri was similarly harassed and threatened by the pharmaceutical company Apotex when her research did not show what the company wanted to see. The company wanted to gag the research and when Ms. Olivieri went public, in order to safeguard public safety, the company threatened to sue her. Some of her ‘honourable’ academic colleagues and superiors acted criminally in their attempt to discourage her supporters. Ms. Olivieri was vindicated in 1999. 7 On the Columbia disaster, see Langewiesche 2004. On the Challenger disaster, see Vaughan 1996. 4 what evidence do the examples offer to justify this blanket condemnation? Here it is in a nutshell: two ‘traffic engineers’, one in New York in the mid-1950s, and another in Toronto in the late 1980s, told the public that “traffic is like water: if it is dammed up or diverted from its course in one place, it will find other outlets where it meets less resistance”8 (p. 72). That is it. Supposedly, the empirical invalidity of the traffic-as-water metaphor is evidence that science as a whole has been abandoned. The second example is a tragedy that occurred in Chicago in the summer of 1995. A severe heat wave claimed more than seven hundred lives, mostly among the elderly in inner-city neighbourhoods. Seven years after the disaster, a book (Klinenberg 2002a) linked the Chicago deaths to specific neighbourhood factors: the presence or absence of local stores and other gathering places; of neighbourly relations and friendships; of intermixed residential, commercial, industrial, and institutional land uses; of dense pedestrian traffic on local streets; and of (perceived) neighbourhood safety. This, more than anything else about the Chicago heat wave, draws Jacobs’ attention, because it furnishes yet another opportunity for more déjà lu about good and bad neighbourhoods. The stuff is almost line-by-line from her Death and Life … of forty-three years ago. How is this related, one may ask, to the issue of science and its abandonment? Here is how. Jacobs compares a four-page report released immediately after the disaster by the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention to help local officials develop immediate emergency responses (Semenza 1996), to the 300page book I just mentioned. She judges the findings of the former “worse than useless” (p. 82), and those of the latter “much more fruitful” (p. 85). She concludes that even if his discoveries may not result in policy changes, Klinenberg at least “spoke up with fresh truths drawn from the real world, and that is a beginning. If that is lost, all is lost” (87). This is more evidence, she thinks, that science is abandoned or is at great risk of being abandoned9. In the third and final example, Jacobs talks about Brampton (a fast growing town within the regional orbit of Toronto). She reviews lots of facts, and quotes newspaper reports at length, to show that Brampton’s success is due to the great number of ‘import-replacement’ jobs created there. Import-replacement (as opposed to export-enhancing) jobs, she says, are not even recognised by economists “[s]ince such jobs don’t fit into [their] preconceptions of how economies behave” (p. 88). The point? Economists have abandoned the ‘scientific state of mind’ in their unwillingness to ‘see’ the secret of city economic expansion. She fears that the Brampton case “will be forgotten, lost to memory, like the episode of city import replacement that occurred in the early 1990s in Vancouver at a time when the rest of Canada, including Toronto, was in recession. The Vancouver event slid by without being identified or studied, it seems. As for the public, it gets about as much enlightenment from all the professors of economics it supports as from the 8 For an analysis of the problems associated with Jacobs’s handling of this example, see pages viii and ix in the Appendix. 9 See also pages ix and x in the Appendix. 5 professors of traffic engineering” (p. 98). Leaving aside the question of whether these insults are fair or justified, the notion of import-replacement is entirely déjà lu. Jacobs wrote a whole book — Cities and the Wealth of Nations — about this (Jacobs 1984) in which she expounded at length the notion that cities and their hinterlands will prosper only if they produce more and more of the goods and services they used to import. The Brampton example offers little support to the ‘science abandoned’ thesis, but an ample chance for Jacobs to make us read again what she wrote twenty years ago10. Chapter Five is supposed to deal with the tendency of senior levels of governments to tax and govern the localities without adequate responsiveness or accountability. The bulk of the chapter is spent cataloguing the known ills of Canadian municipalities, with most of the examples drawn from Toronto. More than fifteen pages of cataloguing and digressions do not produce a shred of evidence that municipal governments are being gypped fiscally or in terms of power11. But they do create yet another forum for telling us again about housing problems12, the demise of public transit systems, and the marvels of local autonomy13. There is a great deal of déjà lu but few ‘ominous signs of decay’ in this chapter as well. Chapter Six, the last of the five key chapters, discusses the ways in which the learned professions regulate their own members, or fail to do so. This is the ostensible focus. A long introduction, taking up more than half the chapter, covers the basic rationale for self-regulation and self-policing. The other half, however, drifts badly off-topic. It begins with a discussion of corporate scandals and the role of accountants in fabricating figures and covering up fraud. This discussion has hardly begun when it digresses into Central Intelligence Agency tactics for concealing evidence and protecting superiors, false-image making, the 10 Quite apart from the technical and conceptual ambiguities involved in deciding which jobs are ‘import-replacement’ and which are not, there is a serious flaw in the notion of import substitution. Applied at the city or city-region levels, it begs the question of what happens to scale economies and positive agglomeration effects if more and more cities seek to replace their imports with ‘domestic’ goods and services. Applied at the national level, this approach has been virtually rejected after a short period of experimentation in most Latin American countries during the 1950s and 1960s. See, for example, Bruton 1998. 11 See pages i and ii in the Appendix for a discussion of the issue of municipal finance. 12 I cannot resist commenting on this passage from Chapter Five. Jacobs writes: “When I go to our neighbourhood shopping street, I am asked by a well-spoken, shabbily dressed man … to write that he and others in his fix need rooming houses, but rooming houses are gone. ‘please tell it, spread the word’ he says. I promise I will; he thanks me, and I don’t have heart to tell him that spreading the word does no good” (p.110). This should be very embarrassing to Jane Jacobs. At least in the neighbourhood where she lives (the Annex, near the University of Toronto central campus), the disappearance of rooming houses resulted directly from prolonged agitation and lobbying by Jane Jacobs zealots in the name of ‘neighbourhood quality,’ based on the principles elaborated in Death and Life … Second, it is ironic that she professes that “spreading the word does no good” while clearly unable to restrain her urge to spread and re-spread the same words over and over again. 13 From the beginning of her career as an author about urban affairs, Jacobs expressed infatuation with ‘self-government’. Her ideas in this regard are mostly metaphorical, and ignore issues of agglomeration effects, inter-municipal externalities, redundant and overlapping services, fiscal zoning, and more. See, for example, Jacobs 1961, pp. 114-117. 6 distinction between capital assets and operating expenses in accounting, and so on. The chapter ends without much déjà lu, but also without any discussion of ‘ominous signs of decay’ in the fifth and final jeopardized pillar of our culture: selfpolicing by the learned professions. As I mentioned in the beginning of this Section, Jacobs delivers little by way of ‘ominous signs of decay’. The five key chapters of the book take the reader through old ideas that are as familiar as they are unsuitable, in terms of scope and weight, to support the view that we are rushing headlong into a Dark Age. It is hard to resist the thought that Jacobs did not really want to write a book about the danger of a dark age ahead, but just wanted another chance to communicate old thoughts that she thinks have not been taken seriously enough. She sounds as if she is saying: listen to me or else! The last words in this section go to her: “Some men tend to cling to old intellectual excitements, just as some belles, when they are old ladies, still cling to the fashions and coiffeurs of their exciting youth” (Jacobs, 1961, p. 371). Mass Amnesia: a Flawed and Unused Notion: In the opening chapter, Jacobs elaborates a notion of “mass amnesia”. The onset of mass amnesia and forgetfulness, we are told, is a self-perpetuating mechanism that causes civilizations to decay. The death of formerly vigorous cultures “is caused not by assault from outside but by assault from within, … by internal rot in the form of fatal cultural turnings, not recognized … while they occur or soon enough afterward to be corrected. Time during which corrections can be made runs out because of mass forgetfulness” (p. 14, emphasis is mine). In short, drifting towards a dark age can potentially be halted, and even reversed, if not for “mass amnesia.” When people forget their previously vigorous cultural practices, serious troubles begin. Domino effects take over; decay begets more decay. In this manner, Jacobs makes the credibility of her book dependent ultimately on showing evidence of mass amnesia or forgetfulness14. But Jacobs does not do that. She does not use the notion of mass amnesia at all, which makes most of the opening chapter irrelevant. Not once in the five core chapters do we see any hint that signs of “mass amnesia” or “forgetfulness” accompany the promised but undelivered ‘ominous signs of decay’. For example: Does the author give us any indication that we have forgotten, or come very close to forgetting, what non-decaying family and community life is (was) like? Has she given us examples to show that we no longer remember clearly the difference between educating and credentialing? Has she provided evidence that our scientists, and/or the rest of us, no longer ‘remember’ the characteristics of viable science, or are about to forget them? I could continue, 14 In the Appendix, I discuss some serious flaws that make this notion of mass amnesia conceptually and methodologically untenable. In addition, the notion of mass amnesia seems particularly inappropriate in the contemporary context given the unprecedented magnitude of detailed records our culture keeps of almost anything and everything. Jacobs’s assertion that “living cultures are transmitted neither in writing nor pictorially … [but] through word of mouth and example” (p. 5) is just that: an assertion. 7 but I think the point is clear. Jacobs does not use the notion of “mass amnesia” that she laboured so hard to construct as an analytical framework for thinking about the dynamics of decline of civilizations. Cut adrift from an organizing framework, the bulk of the book wanders about without much structure, organization, or concern for relevance. This is the focus of the next section. Rambling, Disjointed and Haphazard Text: The text is rambling, disjointed and haphazard despite the fact that author had a copy chief, a production editor, a research and fact checker, and six editors helping her with this book (pp. 223 and 224). Rambling and unnecessary digressions are strewn all over this book. The extent of this is astounding – on a very conservative estimate, 50 pages of about 170 could have easily been eliminated. The text is generally disjointed, with elements of might-have-been arguments getting separated and scattered because of Jacobs’s tendency to meander. The result is a text that is painful to read, particularly if one wishes to take it seriously. The storyline is frequently lost. This happens usually, but not solely, when Jacobs uses the work of others to bolster her positions. Instead of getting to the point, citing the relevant evidence, and moving on, she reviews the work, comments on it, gets enmeshed in its merits and demerits, passes judgements on its plausibility, and interprets it to suit her purposes15. Rather than strengthening her positions, the resulting mess often weakens them. The Inappropriateness of Jacobs’s Extreme Empiricism: Empiricism is the belief that knowledge comes from experience. There is, of course, nothing wrong with this view. But extreme (or naïve) empiricism poses serious problems. Extreme empiricists believe that observations automatically lead to hypotheses (the facts speak for themselves), and forget, or fail to realize, that observations can have no meaning, relevance, or significance unless they are made on the basis of some prior hunches or hypotheses regarding the phenomenon or phenomena under investigation. Throughout her writing career, Jacobs has exhibited a near fixation on extreme empiricism as defined here. On the basis of a limited number of cases or examples or anecdotes, she has always been ready to make brave generalizations. The assumptions that underpin such leaps are hardly recognised and almost never spelled out. Similarly, the factors that limit, or should limit, one’s ability to generalize are typically ignored as well. Death and Life … (1961) was basically a polemic against so-called modernist urban planning principles. Because it was a polemic, and because it was written in the activist and ‘radical’16 atmosphere of the 1960s, it did not meet with much scholarly scrutiny. In addition, the book’s observational terrain was 15 See the Appendix, pages vi to ix, for a discussion of Jacobs’ use of sources. Saul Alinsky, the guru of radical community organizing in the 1950s and 1960s, is among the first acknowledged in Death and Life … 16 8 confined mainly to the neighbourhood scale, where it appeared that Jacobs’ extreme empiricism was not very problematical17. But the phenomenal success of Death and Life … seems to have lured Jacobs into more ambitious projects. Every subsequent book took on more and more global and multidisciplinary issues: The Economy of Cities (1970); The Question of Separatism: Quebec and the Struggle Over Sovereignty (1980); Cities and the Wealth of Nations … (1984); Systems of Survival … (1992): and so on. Throughout, she never modified or moderated her extreme empiricism, and never realized that a method that was partly suitable for a discourse on neighbourhoods might be unsuitable for one on, say, the moral foundations of commerce and politics (1992). Dark Ages Ahead is even more ambitious in scope. The spatial and temporal scales it seeks to compass are immense. The range of substantive fields it covers is equally large. Its conclusions are about an entire civilization. Yet Jacobs ploughs through all this in the same manner she approached her previous books. This time, however, the inadequacies of extreme empiricism are glaring, often embarrassing. The text hops back and forth from local anecdotes to global conclusions. Nothing much paves the way from the former to the latter: no formulation of testable hypotheses, no discussion of the comparative merits and demerits of rival interpretations of facts, and surely no cautions, qualifications or provisos. Here is an example. “One can drive today for miles through American suburbs and never glimpse a human being on foot in a public space, a human being outside a car or a truck. … This is a visible sign that much of North America has become bereft of communities” (p. 36). This kind of ‘argument’ may be acceptable in some ‘casual’ journalistic contexts, but it is not serious analysis. The conclusion, “this is a visible sign …”, simply does not follow from the empirical observation that “one can drive for miles …”. At most, the absence of pedestrians may draw attention to differences between inner city communities and suburban ones. Beyond that, conclusions regarding the eclipse of communities require far more robust methods18. Here is another example. “Declining voter turnout and increasing disdain … for politicians … are evidence that people … have concluded that voting is a waste of effort. That increasing numbers of voters act this way … indicates popular disconnection from Lincoln’s government ‘of the people, by the people, for the people’. Pigeonholing that ideal as irrelevant or unattainable means losing it. That is how weakening of cultural webs leads to further weakening” (p. 122, emphasis in the original). Jacobs seem to think that the observation (declining voter turnout and increasing disdain for politicians) leads to an all-encompassing conclusion about the weakening of cultural webs. It does not necessarily do so. The phenomenon of weakening (of certain cultural webs) leading to further 17 The points of view elaborated in Death and Life … were inapplicable to young cities (e.g., Los Angeles), or to most urban situations outside of the United States. This did not put a dent in the legendary popularity of the book. 18 See the Appendix, page i, for more on this matter. 9 weakening is overdetermined: it lends itself to numerous plausible interpretations or explanations. Factors such as class interests, institutional frameworks, culture, economic organisation and even geography and demography may play a role. But which ensemble of these factors promise ‘the most’ plausible interpretation? Answering this question requires going far beyond Jacobs’s extreme empiricism. I do not think I need to cite more and more examples. The point is already clear. Extreme empiricism may be tolerated in some casual or polemical contexts, but it is not suitable in the present one. Matters of method, logic and evidence: In addition to the issues I discussed in the preceding sections, Dark Age Ahead suffers from a wide range of methodological problems: faulty logic, inconsistencies, largely fictional history, questionable use of sources, rudimentary understanding of how knowledge works, self-destructing statements, simplistic notion of science, and unsubstantiated claims. These matters are discussed in the Appendix. The author and the Publisher — Apportioning Responsibilities: Under normal circumstances, it is generally understood that an author assumes full responsibility, and takes full credit, for the work. But this is not a normal circumstance. How did Random House allow such a breach of standards to occur? Did management merely want to get one last book out of the lustrous name of Jane Jacobs? Is it just a case of making some more money? Why did they not refuse a manuscript that is obviously not of publishable quality? Did they not see the problems? Did they have no respect for an author whose name they risk tarnishing by their disregard for standards? How about Ms. Mary Ann Code, the “resourceful researcher and fact checker” (p. 224)? Did she look at the references cited by Jacobs to ensure that they actually contain evidence? I am perplexed and deeply disturbed by all this. I cannot escape the sense that Random House acted irresponsibly in allowing this book to be printed and distributed. Concluding Remarks: Our contemporary civilization has serious problems indeed, which call for serious and careful study. The dangers of deterioration are real. We need to understand these dangers and to assess their likely consequences. Dark Age Ahead is sadly disappointing because it fails even to take the issues seriously, let alone teach us something new and useful about them. Despite all this, Random House has hailed the book as Jane Jacobs’s “crowning achievement” (Random House 2004). If we take this as anything other than a crass and cynical sales pitch, we must consider it an insult to Jane Jacobs, who has written much better books. 10 Bibliography Bruton, Henry J. 1998. "A Reconsideration of Import Substitution." Journal of Economic Literature 36, Issue no. 2 (June): 903-936. Cairns, Sally, S Atkins, and Phil Goodwin. 2002. "Disappearing Traffic? The Story So Far." Municipal Engineer 151:13-22. Cairns, Sally, Carmen Hass-Klau, and Phil Goodwin. 1998. Traffic Impact of Highway Capacity Reductions: Assessment of the Evidence. London: Landor Publications. Claremont, Graduate University, Writing Center. 2004. "Ethical Use of Sources." Claremont California. Available from: http://writecenter.cgu.edu/students/ethical.html Diamond, Jared. 1997. Guns, Germs, and Steel: the Fates of Human Societies. New York: W. W. Norton and Company. Duby, Georges, and Robert Mandrou. 1964. A History of French Civilization. New York: Random House. East, Robert. 2003. The Effects of Advertising and Display: Assessing the Evidence. Boston: Kluwer Academic Publishers. Feynman, Richard P. 1999. The Meaning of it All: Thoughts of a Citizen Scientist. Reading, Massachusetts: Perseus Books. Foster, Kenneth R. 1997. Judging Science: Scientific Knowledge and the Federal Courts. Cambridge, Massachusetts: The MIT Press. Gans, Herbert J. 1967. The Levittowners: Ways of Life and Politics in a New Suburban Community. New York: Pantheon Books. Goodwin, Phil. 1998a. "The End of Equilibrium." in Theoretical Foundations of Travel Choice Modeling, edited by Tommy Garling, Thomas Laitila, and Kerstin Westin. New York: Elsevier, pp. 103-132. Goodwin, Phil, Carmen Hass-Klau, and Sally Cairns. 1998b. "Better Use of Road Capacity." Public Transport International 5:30-33. Hood, Clifton. 1993. 722 Miles: the Building of the Subways and How They Transformed New York. New York: Simon and Schuster. Horowitz, Irving Louis. 1967. The Rise and Fall of Project Camelot; Studies in the Relationship between Social Science and Practical Politics. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press. ITE, Institute of Transportation Engineers. 1992. Traffic Engineering Handbook. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice Hall. Jacobs, Allan, Elizabeth Macdonald, and Yodan Rofé. 2002. The Boulevard Book. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press. Jacobs, Jane. 1961. The Death and Life of Great American Cities. New York: Vintage Books. —. 1970. The Economy of Cities. New York: Random House. 11 —. 1980. The Question of Separatism: Quebec and the Struggle Over Sovereignty. New York: Vintage Books. —. 1984. Cities and the Wealth of Nations: Principles of Economic Life. New York: Random House. —. 1992. Systems of Survival: a Dialogue on the Moral Foundations of Commerce and politics. New York: Random House. —. 2000a. The Nature of Economies. New York: Modern Library. —. 2000b. Toronto: Considering Self-Government. Owen Sound, Ontario: Ginger Press. —. 2004. Dark Age Ahead. New York: Random House. Klinenberg, Eric. 2002a. Heat Wave: a Social Autopsy of Disaster in Chicago. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. —. 2002b. "Dying Alone: an Interview with Eric Klinenberg." Interview posted by the U. of C. Press: University of Chicago Press. Available from: www.press.uchicago.edu/Misc/Chicago/443213in.html Kuhn, Thomas. 1970. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Langewiesche, William. 2004. "Columbia's Last Flight." in The Best American Science Writing 2004, edited by Dava Sobel and Jesse Cohen. New York: Ecco. New York, Commission on Building Districts and Restrictions. 1916. "Final Report." New York: Board of Estimate and Apportionment, Committee on City Plan. Pagden, Anthony. 2001. Peoples and Empires. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson. Petty, Richard, and John Cacioppo. 1986. Communication and Persuasion: Central and Peripheral Routes to Attitude Change. New York: SpringerVerlag. Random House, Inc. 2004. "About This Book." Book Review. Available from: http://www.randomhouse.com/catalog/display.pperl?1400062322 Reese, K. M. 1998. "British Study Finds Less Traffic When Roads Close." Chemical and Engineering News 76:56. Semenza, Jan C. 1996. "Heat-Related Deaths During the July 1995 Heat Wave in Chicago." New England Journal of Medicine 335:84-90. Valenstein, Elliot S. 1998. Blaming the Brain; the Truth about Drugs and Mental Health. New York: Free Press. Vaughan, Diane. 1996. The Challenger Launch Decision; Risky Technology, Culture, and Deviance at NASA. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Weber, Adna Ferrin. 1899. The Growth of Cities in the Nineteenth Century; a Study in Statistics. New York: Columbia University. 12 Appendix Issues of Method, Logic, and Evidence This appendix focuses on a range of concerns regarding method, logic and the use of sources and resources. It excludes substantive matters to the extent that it is possible to separate form from content. I will use examples selectively. Despite their seriousness and importance, I decided to relegate these concerns to an appendix. As mentioned before, there are two reasons for this decision: first, I wanted to leave the readers with a choice of whether or not to go into the more ‘technical’ matters covered here; second, I wanted to keep the main text as brief as possible. There is an additional consideration: by omitting these methodological concerns from the main text, I hoped to underscore how seriously flawed Dark Age Ahead is, even without considering the problems discussed here. I have organized the materials for this appendix under eight headings (categories). These are arranged alphabetically, and not necessarily in order if importance. I. Faulty Logic: Here, I restrict myself to the simplest of all logical principles – that conclusions should be derivable from premises. In Chapter Two, the author restates her familiar view that automobiles destroy communities. In support of this, she says: “One can drive … for miles through American suburbs and never glimpse a human being on foot in a public space, a human being outside a car or truck. … This is a visible sign that much of North America has become bereft of communities” (p. 36). This is not necessarily so. Yes, community involves interactions and encounters among diverse people who share a neighbourhood. But the absence of people outside cars and trucks is not a sign, and not even a heuristic proxy, that such interactions are non-existent, as Herbert Gans1 (1967) has shown. In Chapter Four, Jacobs accuses mainstream economic theories of blinding economists to daily realities. She says: “Since [import-replacement] jobs don’t fit into economists’ preconceptions …, they don’t recognize these jobs as respectable evidence of economic expansion, and thus fail to recognize the process [of expansion through import-replacement]” (p. 88). The premise that importreplacement “jobs don’t fit into economists’ preconceptions”2 may and may not be true. Be that as it may, it does not logically entail the conclusion that “economists don’t recognize these jobs as … evidence of economic expansion”. In the course of arguing in favour of more local ‘autonomy’, Jacobs criticizes senior government policies for insensitivity to local problems and local solutions. She 1 Jacobs praised Herbert Gans in her Death and Life … (Jacobs, 1961, p. 272), but disregarded his findings about suburban communities. To her, ‘community’ seems to mean only one thing: neighbourhoods like Greenwich Village, New York, in the 1960s. 2 The statement is an unsubstantiated assertion. This does not mean that it is false. writes: “Instead of learning from innovations and encouraging them to spread [the reference here is to Toronto’s assisted housing initiatives], the senior governments killed them” (pp. 109-110). The reasoning here is faulty. The failings and shortcomings of centralization do not provide evidence in support of the desirability of more local ‘autonomy’ or ‘independence’. In other words one may, with no inconsistency, criticise the operations of central authority without seeking to reduce or eliminate it. In Chapter 7 the author advocates residential ‘densification’. In this context, she reiterates her familiar objections to modernist urban design principles. “Planning fads … of the [1950s and 1960s] emphasized the desirability of empty, open spaces; thus replacement buildings usually provided fewer affordable dwellings than the numbers destroyed” (p. 143). The conclusion does not follow logically from the premise (although it may be factually correct). Leaving empty open spaces does not impose limitations on the total number of dwelling units built, because the number of storeys can, in principle, be increased. In the same context: “Standards and regulations accompanying the government-guaranteed mortgages … mandated suburban sprawl … It is no wonder, given this history, that homelessness has increased in North America …” (p. 145). Just how guaranteed mortgages caused suburban sprawl, or how suburban sprawl increase homelessness, is left unexplained. II. Inconsistencies: Inconsistency arises when premises used to buttress an argument are contradicted elsewhere to support other arguments. In her opening Chapter, the author says, “… living cultures are transmitted neither in writing nor pictorially. Instead, cultures live through word of mouth and example” (p. 5). However, the fact that she chose to write this book implies the belief that writing may make a difference, and hence presupposes the falsehood of this claim3. As part of a criticism of credentialism, the author maintains that since the 1950s, full employment and jobs have become key American values, indeed “the purpose of life” (p. 57). Later, the author scorns this sacred cow and retorts that it has become an excuse to justify otherwise undesirable projects and policies (p. 59). On the last page of the book, the author urges us to avoid the hazard of drifting towards a dark age “by tenaciously retaining the underlying values responsible for the culture’s nature and success” (p. 176). Should Americans include the value of full employment and jobs? In a discussion of what the author sees as tax-related irrationalities, she points out that Canadian “[f]ederal budget figures are lumped into Canada-wide expenditures, making it impossible to learn how much goes to specific localities and for what purposes” (p. 112). Even a task force appointed by the prime minister could not find this information, according to the author. 3 This claim (regarding word of mouth, etc.) is unnecessary, except to pre-empt the obvious criticism of the notion of ‘mass amnesia’ on grounds of its clear irrelevance in an information age. ii On the next page, she acknowledges that tax rich jurisdictions should not expect to get back everything they contribute, because there is a legitimate need to support “poor regions … that are unable to pay their way”. The author then adds: “all that, however, does not alter the fact that not enough resources return for municipal reinvestment” (p. 113). If the former claim (p.112) that nobody knows where the money goes is a fact, then the latter claim (p. 113) that not enough of it goes to the municipalities cannot also be called a ‘fact’. How can one assert that “not enough” is returned when the information is not available? III. Largely Fictional History: The author’s idea of how to use history as a source of evidence is peculiar. What she tells us is almost always a combination of fiction and history. The phrase “mass amnesia” appears on the first page as a metaphor, a ‘manner of speaking’, or an ‘image’. Gradually it becomes an analytical construct – “During the Dark Age, the mass amnesia of survivors becomes permanent and profound” (p.7). By the end of the same page4, it has become an empirical entity – “So much had been forgotten in the forgetful centuries …”. How does she know that? No historian can know that. At best, a historian may find evidence that some bodies of knowledge and skills and practices are no longer used. This does not necessarily entail that they “have been forgotten”. There is more. Cultural wrong turnings, we are warned, must be recognised – “Time during which corrections can be made runs out because of mass forgetfulness” (p. 14). What was initially a manner of speech, a mere phrase, having become an empirical entity (potentially observable), is now a cause of historical change. In any case, the Dark Ages did not involve “mass amnesia” as Jacobs alleges. During the centuries following the collapse of the Roman Empire, the European monasteries preserved and copied vast amounts of Latin and Greek manuscripts. They kept alive many cultural and technical practices including winemaking, pottery, textiles, stone cutting and carving. They developed horticultural techniques and implements (the three-field system, the metal plough, the horse collar). They even contributed to the preservation of reasoned modes of governance (the Benedictine Rule). Even this most cursory sketch of monastic history casts doubt on the ‘abyss of forgetfulness’. As another presumed example from ‘history’, the author briefly relays the story of a small population (on the island of Tasmania) that was separated over 10,000 years ago from a larger aboriginal people on mainland Australia (according to Diamond, 1997). About 4,000 in number, these people regressed into extreme primitiveness compared to their condition before being separated. From this extreme case of isolation, Diamond concludes that the regression of the Tasmanians “may stem in part from the effects of isolation and population size” (1997, p. 313). Jacobs renders this story as if Diamond thought that it showed “how cultures lost their 4 On this same page, the author invokes the authority of three historians (Pirenne, Duby and Mandrau). What they wrote and what she quoted are entirely unrelated to the claim of “an abyss of forgetfulness”. See also Section IV below on the questionable use of sources. iii memories”. Nowhere does Diamond go near these notions of ‘forgetfulness’, ‘mass amnesia’, or ‘cultures losing memory’. Like us, Jacobs says, the Ancient Romans “needed strong communities to assimilate and cushion the many people experiencing unprecedented circumstances [shortly before the collapse]…” (p. 42). But: “The failing and failed Roman communities were not equal to the responsibility …” (p. 42). Nothing further, and no references either. We have no idea what evidence may conceivably have led her to this ‘conclusion’ about the failing and failed Roman communities. The author’s use of ‘history’ is also characterized by key indeterminacies. With regard to the central issue of human agency in the making of history, the author is seldom clear on who the actors were/are behind this or that development or change. Thus, “… new knowledge entered a fundamentalist and feudal framework …” (p. 6). Who brought it? What were the real interactions — conflicts, alliances, etc. — provoking the “new” knowledge? Or, “… ethnic awareness came to the fore …; the embryos of nation-states were forming” (p. 8). What were the specific human interests behind these transformations? “People get used to losses …” (p. 23). ‘People’? Any? All? It is not just remote history that is ‘edited’ and presented as ‘history’. Relatively recent developments on this continent and even in this City, Toronto, are too. In attempting to show that tax money would be most effectively spent if policies and projects were developed locally, Jacobs paints a glorious picture of Toronto’s assisted housing initiatives during the 1970s (p. 109). The picture blurs or completely omits several important aspects. First, the shift from public housing (a lá Regent Park in Toronto) to non-profit assisted housing (mixture of market and assisted units) was not unique to Toronto, and was far more than just a matter of a courageous mayor (David Crombie) and a genius alderman (Michael Dennis). It involved complex and nation-wide issues including Federal and Provincial policy redirection. Second, the goal of increasing the supply of affordable housing was frequently thwarted by the city itself. Toronto’s own Land Use Committee frequently voted against proposals submitted by Cityhome (Toronto’s own non-profit housing company) under pressure from small yet vocal groups of young professional gentrifiers. Under the leadership of mayor John Sewell in 1978, the City launched an attack on ‘illegal’ bachelorette apartments in south Parkdale (a low income neighbourhood west of downtown). No attempt was ever undertaken to work with non-conforming owners to upgrade and preserve the scarce supply of low-rental housing units. Here again, city government bowed to pressure from a small minority of ‘Victorian’ single-family homeowners in the area and abandoned its own talk about low-income housing. So much for Toronto’s “constructive innovations” (p. 109) in the field of assisted housing. In her penultimate Chapter, ostensibly about proposals to avoid sliding into a Dark Age Ahead, the author continues her long-standing criticism of zoning. In North America, she says, three “big ideas” shaped zoning: “High ground coverages are bad”; “High densities (number of people or number of households per acre) are bad”; and “The mingling of commercial or other work uses with residences is bad”. She iv adds: “To this day, the three assumptions [big ideas] remain the principal tools of planners and zoners” (p. 153). Without exception, all these claims are contradicted by the same very urban history that the author should know inside out. Let us start by clearing up a confusion in Jacobs’s understanding of density. Density may refer to the number of people per acre of land (this is how the author uses the word). But density may also refer to the number of people per square foot or square metre of habitable space or per room. This is an index of crowding. The author does not seem to realize that what the Progressives of the early 20th Century (e.g., Adna Weber 1899) were combating was overcrowding, not a high density of people per acre. The construction of the Interborough Rapid Transit Subway in 1904 was followed by massive land speculation, shoddy development, and construction of ‘new’ tenements5 in districts like Washington Heights6. The same reformers and the same reforming spirit that the author praises in her third Chapter started to agitate for zoning ordinances to combat the unacceptable impacts of the new transit lines. As with other subsequent zoning ordinances, the 1916 New York City zoning resolution regulated the height, the area, and the use of buildings. The target was overcrowding and not, as the author claims, high ground coverage. Let us look at the issue of mixed land uses. In the case of New York, the subway line intensified the northward movement of commercial districts and their encroachment on established residential areas in midtown Manhattan. Reformminded advocates at the time saw zoning as a protector of neighbourhoods. It is in this sense that “mingling of commercial … uses with residences” was considered “bad”. But what they considered bad was the mingling of incompatible land uses, not, as the author states, any set of different uses. Finally, the author asserts that these three aversions — to high ground coverage, to high densities, and to mixed land uses — “remain the principal tools of planners and zoners” to this day. This claim too flies in the face of recent planning realities. In Toronto, for example, the 1969 Official Plan of the City of Toronto contained lavish high coverage and high-density allowances in the City’s core area and other strategic nodes7. Regarding the claim that zoning discourages mixed land uses “to this day”, the author should look at Toronto’s Railway lands (regarding which the author was involved in the late 1990s as a pro bono advisor). She might also look at mixed-use developments like the London Docklands, the Battery Park district in New York, and the South Boston Waterfront District, to name just a few examples. 5 These were multi-storey buildings aimed at the lowest income tenants. They presupposed extreme levels of overcrowding. See, e.g., Hood 1993. 6 Testifying before the City Commission on Building Districts and Restrictions, the Chief Engineer of the Board of Estimate and Apportionment stated: “I remember the sensational development of the Washington Heights districts on the completion of the present subway... Unless there is some restriction on kind of development which can occur, I think we will have a serious problem for the city to deal with” (New York, 1916, p. 147). 7 The so-called reformers of 1970s — including Crombie, Dennis, and Sewell — fought against these high densities and high coverage allowances (hypocritically in the name of preservation of neighbourhoods). v The point of this discussion of zoning is neither to defend traditional zoning doctrines and practices nor to oppose Jacobs’ well-known views on coverage, density, and mixed-use. The point rather is to highlight the distortive consequences of using fiction as evidence. IV. Questionable Use of Sources: One does not expect an experienced author to miss or compromise basic — one might say, elementary — guidelines regarding the proper and prudent use of sources. Most standard writing manuals contain the basic guidelines. The ones listed here are summarized and rephrased from a version at the Claremont Graduate University Writing Center (Claremont 2004). First: “Never use information in a way that is contrary to the author’s intentions”. To this one may add: when in doubt, alert the readers by reviewing alternative reasonable ‘readings’. Second: “Although it is not always necessary to quote an entire passage to make your point, make sure that you have not changed the author’s main idea through selective quoting or use of ellipsis”. Third: “It is not ethical to prove your thesis by ignoring well-known information that conflicts with or refutes it. A well-argued paper confronts such evidence”. To these, I would like to add an equally obvious guideline: do not use a source whose credibility you could not, or have not, evaluated. The following are examples of what I consider violations of one or more of these relatively noncontroversial guidelines. The author spends nearly half of her first Chapter re-presenting various parts and passages from a world-history book by Jared Diamond (1997). Diamond’s broad-brush analysis — covering more than 10,000 years of history — poses a ‘simple’ question: why are some nations rich and others poor? Why do some nations lose ground? China is one of the many examples Diamond uses as he tries to pin down the ‘causes’ of decline. Jacobs covers Diamond’s analysis of China at some length. “Diamond asks himself why Chinese ships didn’t colonize Europe before Vasco da Gama’s … ships launched Europe’s colonization of East Asia? … Why did China lose its technological lead to formerly so backward Europe?” (p. 18). She sums up Diamond’s description of some 15th Century political rivalries in China that led, amongst other things, to a halting of long-distance navigation and overseas trade. She follows this by the following statement: “Loss of charts and records from the archives ended medieval China’s interest in the outside world …” (p. 19). Most readers would assume that this last claim is from, or is at least based on, Diamond’s book. Not so. It is only in the endnotes that Jacobs cites Anthony Pagden’s Peoples and Empires (2001) in support. There she references this claim — with no page numbers — as if Anthony Pagden made it. But Pagden makes no such claim. He merely indicates, in the course of a discussion of navigation, the use of the sea, trade, and conquest, that “the vice-president of the [Chinese] Ministry of War, Liu Daxia, confiscated Zheng He’s documents from the archives and either hid or burned them” (66 and 67). He adds later: “China had turned its back upon any further expansion …It was a decision which, in the long run, was to prove calamitous” (67). In short, the claim that China lost interest in the outside world because of the loss of charts is Jacobs’. Leaving aside the plausibility of her claim, the way in which vi she slips it into her references to Diamond and Pagden raises concerns about her use of sources. Back to the claim itself. Hiding or burning documents may well have been the result, not the cause, of Daxia’s decision to cease long-distance overseas trade. The author fails to present this alternative to the readers despite its plausibility. There is more. Diamond’s overarching intent is to show that “the striking differences between the long-term histories of peoples of different continents have been due not to innate differences in the peoples themselves but to differences in their environments” (Diamond 1997, p. 405). He wants to oppose the self-serving Euro-centric histories that seek to account for recent European domination over the rest of the world by reference to the presumed superiority of the Europeans. “Sound evidence for the existence of human differences in intelligence that parallel human differences in technology is lacking” (Diamond 1997, p. 19). Jacobs does not seem to respect that broad intent or to recognise that the purpose of his narrative has nothing at all to do with her notion of mass amnesia. She makes no effort to place her fragmented re-presentations in the context of Diamond’s intentions. Hence she denies her readers the opportunity to judge, for themselves, the appropriateness of her use of sources. It is also necessary to draw attention to Jacobs’ confused treatment of Diamond’s analysis. At first (p. 11) we are introduced to Diamond as a “brilliant twenty-first-century historian and scientist” who has meticulously analysed the “unequal contests between conquering invaders and their victims”. Two pages later we are told that Diamond “hoped he had created the foundation for a genuine science of human history …”. “It seemed to [Diamond]”, the author tells us, “that only a couple of loose ends [in the project of human history as a science] needed tying”. Jacobs does not mention that Diamond included a lengthy Epilogue8 in which he spelled out the limitations of his project and articulated his reservations about it. Instead of clarifying this for her readers, Jacobs merely uses the reference to Diamond’s hope to thrust her pet notion of ‘mass amnesia’ inexplicably onto his analysis. One of the “loose ends,” we read, is “how cultures lost their memories” (p. 13). Not so! I find such writing games, whose purpose is to camouflage gaps in evidence, quite reprehensible. There is still more. The fact that she uses Diamond’s book so many times as a source of supporting evidence implies that she considers his analysis reliable. Yet she announces: “Diamond’s analysis … turned mushy and unreliable as soon as human decisions entered the equation” (p. 20). Why did she take her readers through this long detour if she thinks Diamond’s work is unreliable? Unsettling questions arise here with respect to her seriousness as an author. What becomes of all the ‘evidence’ she ‘found’ in his work? Should we consider it “mushy and unreliable” as well? And what reason did she have for describing him as “brilliant” a few pages earlier? Perhaps she wrote her text as she leafed incrementally through Diamond’s book, and never bothered to restructure, indeed rewrite, her Chapter when she later 8 The example of China’s abrupt halting of her fleet’s activities in the 15th Century is part of this epilogue, and is used, in part, to show some of the areas that Diamond considered to be weak in his own research. vii ‘discovered’ that he was “unreliable”. This whole muddle becomes all the more perplexing when we realize that human decisions entered Diamond’s equation from the outset9, not somewhere towards the tail end of his book as Jacobs implies. Near the end of her first Chapter, still working with, and on, Diamond’s history, Jacobs proposes to turn his question upside down. Rather than ask: What makes winners win? Let us ask: “What dooms losers?” Then she delivers a casual but fatal blow to the notion of mass amnesia that she laboured so hard to construct as a way to explain the decline of civilizations. For she now says: “The answer to the new question, cast in the form of a principle10, runs something like this: Losers are confronted with such radical jolts in circumstances that their institutions cannot adapt adequately, become irrelevant, and are dropped” (p. 20, italics in the original). No fatal amnesia, then, just something on the order of an asteroid hitting the earth. I personally think that she would have written a better book had she followed through with this ‘principle’, and used it as an analytical framework. But she did not. She goes back to the feeble notions of mass amnesia, forgetfulness, and loss or memory, as if she has never thought this thought nor written this ‘principle’. The next example of Jacobs’s questionable use of sources can be discussed much more briefly. In Chapter 4 — ‘Science Abandoned’ — the author describes two traffic-related cases about which she had first hand information. Both cases involved traffic engineers who tried to convince local citizens that “ … traffic is like water: if it is dammed up or diverted from its course in one place, it will find other outlets where it meets less resistance” (p. 72). In both cases, the traffic engineers resisted residents’ demands to close certain local roads, and in both cases the engineers’ predictions did not come true. On the basis of this evidence, the author concludes that “the water hypothesis to explain traffic flow had been discredited by the real world”. Then she takes this a step further and issues a more general indictment of traffic engineering as “… a fake science that cares nothing about evidence …” (p. 74). The author could have simply moved on. Instead, she confuses the readers, and undermines her own point, by citing a 350-word clipping about the effects of road closures that her brother sent her (Reese 1998). This is a summary of a summary of a draft report that never made it into any library catalogue, including WorldCat. The report, commissioned in the UK in the late 1990s, was subsequently published as a full-length book (Cairns et al. 1998). Members of the same research team subsequently published additional findings on the phenomenon of ‘disappearing’ or ‘vanishing’ traffic (Goodwin 1998a; 1998b; Cairns et al. 2002). Jacobs does not reference any of this material, only her brother’s clipping, and so she is at a loss to interpret what is meant by ‘missing or vanishing traffic’11. Reading research materials before citing their results on hearsay basis would have spared the readers some confusion and the author some embarrassment. 9 On page 39, he is already writing about jewellery, careful burial practices, revolutionary aesthetics and spiritual developments. 10 She probably means ‘hypothesis’, or ‘thesis’. 11 “By the time I read the clipping, I had begun to wonder whether missing traffic — meaning cars and their occupants — actually did vanish or if, instead, only some of their travelling on the roads vanished” (p. 76). viii More importantly, this ‘third-hand’ citing also keeps her from realizing that the metaphor that likens traffic to water may be a red herring. Goodwin explains that the metaphor acts “as the counter-factual against which individuals compare their current situation” (1998a, p. 134). In a hypothetical situation where there are literally only two roads people can take from point A to point B, and where all those who travel from A to B must continue to make these trips (inelastic travel demand), closing the first road would transfer all of the trips to the second road. In this admittedly unrealistic scenario, traffic would behave like water. In real-life cases, the metaphor functions differently. It does not predict directly what would happen, but provides a benchmark for estimating what may happen. The traffic engineers who used it to discourage citizens from pursuing their demands stand accused of manipulating or of misinforming the public. This, however, does not discredit the metaphor itself. What it does is to discredit Jacobs’s grounds for insulting the whole of traffic engineering. Cairns and her colleagues surveyed about 400 professionals who work on road space reallocation and analyzed over 140 responses. They report that “[o]ver 90% of respondents knew of a road space reallocation scheme which had ‘apparently’ or ‘definitely’ been implemented without causing any significant problems for general traffic” (Cairns et al. 2002 p. 14). By implication, this same high percentage of traffic engineers knew better than to take the traffic-as-water metaphor literally. There is nothing really peculiar in all this. Gravity, equilibrium, and intervening opportunity models (to cite just a few types) all function in the same manner, and not even entrylevel engineering students imagine that these models describe reality. My point is simple: using sources properly is not only a matter of ethics; it is also a practical precaution against unnecessary confusion. The last example in this Section comes from the same (fourth) Chapter, where the author compares two different studies dealing with an unusual heat wave that hit Chicago in 1995 and resulted in over 700 deaths in inner city neighbourhoods. The first is a four-page report. In format, it is a standard ‘disaster reporting and response’, conducted under the auspices of the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, for purposes of immediate administrative action. It was released right after the disaster and published in the following year (Semenza 1996). The second study is a 300-page book that took over six years in preparation (Klinenberg 2002a). The author does not provide the basic information I just summarised. Thus, when she contrasts these two studies, she obscures the fact that she is in fact comparing apples and oranges. She accuses the former of being “worthless,” and praises the latter for its socio-spatial emphasis. She concludes implicitly that the former is the predominant way ‘science’ is currently conducted, that the latter is the exception, and that this example illustrates the “alarming abandonment of a scientific state of mind” (p. 81). Incidentally, Eric Klinenberg, the author of the second study, uses the risk factors identified in the first study, which he describes as “thorough” (Klinenberg, 2002b). These are the same findings that Jacobs describes as “worse than useless” (p.82). She may know better than the researcher whose work she praises so highly! I find Jacobs’ use of sources wanting. The main point of documenting sources is to guarantee what she hinders through distortion and obfuscation: the ability of ix the readers to reach their own judgment about the credibility of evidence and the plausibility of conclusions. A quotation attributed to Andrew Lang12 can be very slightly paraphrased to describe Jacobs’s use of resources: “She uses sources as a drunken uses lamp-posts … for support rather than illumination”. V. Rudimentary Understanding of How Knowledge Works: This Section discusses the author’s tacit conception of how knowledge works in the realm of human choices, decisions, and actions. How does knowledge come to influence practices? Why does it often fail to have an influence? Does validity promise effectiveness? Clearly there are vast differences, in this present context, between individual choices, decisions, and actions on the one hand and public, structured, and institutionalised practices on the other. How does knowledge function in the realm of institutionalised practices? 13 I suspect that the author does not have coherent and reasoned views regarding the issues I just outlined. Here are some of the examples that led me to this conclusion: In the opening Chapter, the author describes the social and cultural changes that engulfed Europe around the turn of the 16th Century, and says that “Copernicus’s stunning proofs forced14 educated people to realize that the earth is not the centre of the universe …” (p. 6). Does knowledge ‘force’? Did it ever? Let us briefly revisit the author’s rendering of how China came to halt her long distance navigation and overseas trade. “Loss of charts and records from the archives ended medieval China’s interest in the outside world …” (p. 19). As I indicated earlier, this claim is not from Diamond (1997) or Pagden (2001). It is the author’s, and it indicates a rather green notion of how knowledge (or its absence in this case) produces material effects in the world. Towards the end of her introductory Chapter, the author describes the purpose of her book. “… I have written this cautionary book in hopeful expectation that time remains for corrective action” (p. 24). Like Copernicus’s stunning proofs, the knowledge in her book may “force the educated people” to stop the drift15. She adds: “Following my discussion of the decay …, I attempt practical suggestions for reversing some intractable deteriorations” (p. 25). Here, we see clearly a key characteristic of the author’s understanding of how knowledge works: knowledge Æaction suggestions Æ implementation Ædesired outcome attained. This prompts 12 Andrew Lang is an English poet, writer, and collector of fairy tales, 1844-1912. The original quotation reads: “He uses statistics as a drunken… etc.”. 13 The way science is used in the courts (at least in the United States) provides a straightforward, and fascinating, example that can teach us a lot about most of these issues. See Foster 1997 for a readable and extremely informative study. 14 The point here is not about the empirical validity of Jacobs’s claim. However, compare her description to that of Thomas Kuhn: “Copernicanism made few converts for almost a century after Copernicus’s death” (1967, p. 150) 15 The hope that truth may save is a keystone of Enlightenment rationalism. Few of us can claim to have fully moved beyond it. The question is whether the author gives any signs of being aware of what is at issue here. In judging her awareness, we can use the standard against which she proudly assesses her own thoughts: “I have learned yet again (this has been going on all my life) what folly it is to take anything for granted without examining it sceptically” (p. 179). x one to wonder if the author ever paused to think about her enormously popular Death and Life … of forty-three years ago. How did the knowledge and the practical suggestions offered in that previous book function in real life? Did the events of the last forty-three years support the simple notion of knowledge Æ action suggestions Æ implementation Ædesired outcome attained? Towards the end of her penultimate Chapter — the one with the practical suggestions — the author calls for proper and patient mentoring (in the education system). She explains why she thinks this is crucial. “At some point in their mentoring, accountants, priests and other learned professionals who achieved the careers of their dreams, but who then failed to meet their ethical and professional responsibilities, were not sufficiently educated to adhere to civilized standards expected by the culture. Like children, professionals need to be taught right and wrong, and why” (p. 158). This example highlights the precarious nature of Jacobs’s understanding of how knowledge impacts human choices, decisions, and actions16. VI. Self-Destructing Statements: A device is self-destructing if it contains a mechanism causing it to destroy itself. Similarly, a statement is self-destructing if some of its elements must be untrue in order that the whole statement be considered true. Many key propositions in Dark Age Ahead are self-destructing. Here are two examples. On the first page, the author talks about North American aboriginal cultures, “many of which were decisively finished off by mass amnesia in which even the memory of what was lost was also lost”. How can anybody assert that: a) X was lost, and, b) the memory of lost X was also lost? If (b) is true, (a) cannot be found true or false. The statement is self-destructing17. In the course of a vicious attack on traffic engineering, the author accuses the whole field of being “… a fake science that cares nothing about evidence …” (p. 74). The truth of this accusation requires that the author herself care “nothing about evidence”18. If we believe the accusation, we must, because of the author’s disregard 16 The author’s ‘innocence’ is, in an interesting way, evidence in favour of her claim that contemporary science is in trouble (Chapter 4). 17 Yet, ‘normally’, most of us continue to read. It seems that in such cases we tend to grant the author a ‘stance’ from which we imagine that she or he can ‘see’ or ‘realize’ things that we cannot. We do this heuristically. Heuristic responses are ones in which we use only some of the information given to us in texts, sounds, or images to process what we read, hear, and/or see. We use simplifying ‘procedures’ that are socio-culturally conditioned. East (2003, p. 71) gives some examples of these heuristic ‘shortcuts’: previously encountered information is perceived as more probable; longer arguments are believed to be more reliable (partly because of the assumption that length implies strength, and partly because longer arguments encourage slippage into low levels of cognition); expert pronouncements are granted more validity; and if people agree on something we are more likely to think that it is correct. At low levels of cognitive response, this can happen. Petty and Cacioppo (1986) researched the processes of low levels of cognition. They analyse two different “routes to attitude change”. What they call the central route is a more formal, attentive, and non-pre-emptive cognitive route. The peripheral route uses more ‘automatic’ or ‘preconceived’ methods of assessing the persuasiveness of communications. 18 See also page ix of this Appendix. xi for evidence, promptly disbelieve it. This is the way with self-destructing statements19. VII. Simplistic Notion of Science: In Section V above, I dealt with the author’s understanding of how knowledge works. Here, I discuss a related, but different, issue: her understanding of science. She sees it as a method of revealing truths20. “Its aim is to get at truths about how reality works” (p.65). Beyond that, it is difficult to pin down any specifics. Two things, however, are clear by their absence. First, the author does not seem to know that much of contemporary science seeks not to establish truths, but rather to determine or estimate the degree of uncertainty (unreliability) of this or that hypothesis, theory, or body of knowledge. Second, the author gives no sign of realising that science is an enterprise that occurs within intuitional and organizational frameworks, and more importantly, within scientific communities whose members share certain beliefs, habits and goals without which there can be no science. The lack of awareness of these two dimensions of science derails her criticisms of science in Chapter 4. There is also a crucial ambiguity regarding ‘reality’. The indicative (what is) and the imperative (what ought to be) are both aspects of ‘how reality works’. The author recognises this distinction explicitly: science “doesn’t guarantee we will avoid … mistakes or correct them, but that is owing to failure to heed what science uncovers” (p. 65). What she does not recognise is that science — qua institutionalised practices — hardly ever charts its research agendum coherently, or in conformity with established societal goals and policy issues. Science can, and does, veer away from existing policy priorities; it can, and does, bias, strain, and/or distort them. Jacobs is silent on these matters. Her only concerns are whether scientists respect the weight of evidence, and use previously unsuspected anomalies to frame new and useful questions. This narrow focus made it almost impossible for Jacobs to reach any novel or important insights in Chapter Four. Near the beginning of the Chapter, the author paints an idealized picture of the ‘scientific state of mind’. This is a prelude to giving examples of how this “major marvel … has been betrayed and … abandoned, while those carrying out the ugly deeds pretend that nothing of the kind has happened …” (p. 70). During that prelude, she draws on a widely cited book, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (1970)21 by Thomas Kuhn22 in support of her view that science discards failing approaches when actual observations disconfirm them. Here is how she interprets Kuhn: “If a paradigm23 is truly obsolete, it must finally give way, discredited by the testing of the real world” (Jacobs, p. 70). This is not 19 But see footnote 17 on how we, the readers, sometimes respond sloppily to such statements. Richard Feynman (1999) popularised a similar notion. 21 Jacobs references the 3rd edition, 1996. 22 Kuhn died in 1996 at his home in Cambridge, Massachusetts. He was 73. 23 For Kuhn, a paradigm is a collection of beliefs shared by members of a scientific community. Paradigms — qua shared theoretical and methodological beliefs — guide the development of theories, the conduct of research, and the pursuit of debates and improvements within a given field of scientific inquiry. Few terms have been so misused, overused, and abused as the term ‘paradigm’. Kuhn realised this. He even offered an alternative — ‘disciplinary matrix’. But in a way, it was too late. 20 xii Kuhn. One of his book’s goals, in fact, is to show that the discrediting that Jacobs hails as the touchstone of science does not occur much in ‘normal science’24. Kuhn makes this point explicitly: scientists “do not … treat anomalies as counter instances, though in the vocabulary of philosophy of science that is what they are" (Kuhn, 1970, p. 77). Jacobs may have missed Kuhn’s point in part because of her lack of awareness of the institutional and cultural dimensions of scientific pursuits. Here again, Kuhn is explicit: “Like the choice between competing political institutions, that between competing paradigms proves to be a choice between incompatible modes of community life. … As in political revolutions, so in paradigm choice — there is no standard higher than the assent of the relevant community” (1970, p. 94). Jacobs has expectations that only revolutionary science, in Kuhn’s terms, fulfils, and only during the ferment of a scientific revolution. She thinks science should constantly test its ‘predictions’ against real life evidence. Only during periods of ‘paradigm shifts’ does this happen, says Kuhn. “[T]esting occurs as part of the competition between two rival paradigms for the allegiance of the scientific community” (p. 145). Jacobs wants discrepancies between facts and theories to be taken seriously. She wants scientists to use anomalies inquisitively and creatively to generate new research questions and new discoveries. It doesn’t happen, says Kuhn. “Normal science does not aim at novelties of fact or theory and, when successful, finds none” (1970, p. 52). In short, Jacobs’s simplistic, and idealized, notion of science leads her to set untenable expectations of normal science. Chapter 4 — ostensibly a critique of contemporary scientific practices — suffers accordingly. Even if we accept her inductive generalizations, we must still reject the criteria by which she judges, and criticises, normal science. None of this should be construed as an apology for contemporary science. What passes as science today is seriously flawed; my point here is that Jacobs’s simplistic notions divert her attention away from these serious flaws. VIII. Unsubstantiated Claims: This last Section deals with failure to support non-self-evident claims. Unsubstantiated claims are not necessarily false. They are, however, weak links that cumulatively erode the credibility of a chain of argument. A very key claim in Dark Age Ahead is left implicit and totally unsubstantiated. It is the claim that things have been getting worse in our times: “we show signs of rushing headlong into a Dark Age” (p. 4). We may ask, for example, if we have indeed been experiencing ‘loss’ of community. Is there evidence in Dark Age Ahead that community life was better or stronger in earlier times (whatever those may be)? Similarly with higher education: Is the emphasis on credentials something new? And science: are current scientists less respectful of the marvel of the ‘scientific state of mind’ than their counterparts forty or fifty years ago? Similar questions can be raised about the other pillars Jacobs discusses. Nowhere (that I could find) does the author 24 Kuhn insisted that mounting discrepancies between theories and facts are only treated as grounds for rejecting a paradigm by supporters of a competing, ‘revolutionary’ paradigm-in-the-making. xiii give evidence that our culture has been drifting towards ‘collapse’ — at least with respect to community and family life, higher education, science, taxation and representation policies, and the professions. There are many more specific, but equally important, claims that are also left unsupported. Chapter 3 provides an example. It is entitled “Credentialing Versus Education”. Taken as a polemical gag, this title is fairly clever. As a substantive foundation for a whole Chapter, it lacks weight. Credentialing and education are not inherently in conflict. One must show evidence that they are. The author gives evidence that credentialing is pervasive, thinking that this will serve to show, as well, that education as such is being compromised or sacrificed. The latter may be the case, but we are not given independent evidence to show that this is indeed so. In Chapter 7, Jacobs laments the near impossibility, in North America, of using a particular kind of road — the boulevard. Boulevards can provide walks for pedestrians, lanes for bicycles and roller-skating, parallel lanes for public transit vehicles, and separate lanes for automobile traffic. However, says Jacobs, they are outlawed by traffic engineering dogmas. My concern here is not with the merits of boulevards. It is with the claims Jacobs makes but fails to substantiate while discussing them. Jacobs’ main contention here is that North American traffic engineering standards ‘outlaw’ boulevards on grounds of safety, but that these standards are “based on wholly unsupported dogma, nothing more” (p. 150). She says that this conclusion is supported by Allen Jacobs (no relation to Jane Jacobs) and two other architects in their 2002 book entitled The Boulevard Book. The only information Jane Jacobs gives about this book is a cryptic reference in her endnotes (p. 219): “[t]he quotation about the lack of traffic and safety data is from p. 247 of the book [The Boulevard Book]”. As it turns out, page 247 of The Boulevard Book is also a page of endnotes. It is where the reader of The Boulevard Book is sent to find support for the following statement on their page 92: “… street standards appear to have been based on unproven assumptions and rationalizations about danger and safety rather than on actual data …”. If you are patient and methodical and actually follow their endnotes, you find two things. But neither of these gives any supporting references. Endnote 32 is a reference to “Institute of Transportation Engineers, Traffic Engineering Handbook, p. 154”. Endnote 33 is a longer version of the statement that the traffic engineering standards (in the Traffic Engineering Handbook) are arbitrary and without basis. So far, then, there is no evidence to back up the claim. If you are patient and really dogged, you may go to the Traffic Engineering Handbook (ITE 1992), and look at page 154 in the hope of finding some evidence at last. None. The page is the introduction to a Chapter on Roadway Geometric Design. It contains brief background notes and definitions. If anything, it contains some counter-evidence: “Policy revisions [in the Handbook] are prepared in response to the continuing operational and safety experience, direct and applied research, changes in vehicle fleet characteristics, and other factors”. In short, this long, and traveller-unfriendly, trail does not lead to any evidence supporting Jacobs’s claim that the traffic engineering standards discouraging the construction of boulevards are “based on wholly unsupported dogma, nothing more”. xiv Let me give one last example of the author’s tendency to assert and her failure to support consequential claims. In the same Chapter 7, the author suggests that we replace rigid zoning designations (which stipulate what people can and cannot build) with flexible and adaptable performance codes (which specify performance outcomes that people agree to satisfy). This is an interesting, though hardly a novel, suggestion. As part of her comments on the practicalities of implementing such performance codes, Jacobs offers this: “The object of a good performance code should be to combine the greatest degree of flexibility … with the most germane and direct protections needed …” (p. 157). She continues: “The training and credentialing of planners and zoners does not equip them for this task, nor does their work experience”. Those who know Jacobs’ record would not be shocked or surprised by such derisive comments25. Most likely they would not find anything newsworthy either in what I am about to say; namely, that Jacobs offers nothing in support of her opinion. A Concluding Thought: As I tried to show in the main text, Dark Age Ahead is not a praiseworthy book even if it did not have any of the methodological problems discussed in this appendix. By the same token, these problems would, on their own, call into question the author’s credibility. Together, the substantive and the methodological problems make this book an embarrassment. 25 She obviously does not believe in Nizer’s adage that “a graceful taunt is worth a thousand insults”. Louis Nizer is a 20th Century American Lawyer. xv