Reading about cities

The essays in Patrick Keiller’s [amazon_link id=”1781687765″ target=”_blank” ]The View From The Train[/amazon_link] will appeal to anyone who enjoys the psychogeography genre – Iain Sinclair’s [amazon_link id=”0141014741″ target=”_blank” ]London Orbital[/amazon_link] etc – and I do. They are more interested in the economics of cities, and particularly inequality and public space, than many of the other psychogeography books, however. There is overlap for example with Anna Minton’s [amazon_link id=”0241960908″ target=”_blank” ]Ground Control[/amazon_link] and Lynsey Hanley’s [amazon_link id=”1847087027″ target=”_blank” ]Estates[/amazon_link]. Yesterday I wrote about the observations Keiller makes on ports and on housing. Although I don’t agree with all he says, it’s very interesting.

[amazon_image id=”1781687765″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The View from the Train: Cities and Other Landscapes[/amazon_image]   [amazon_image id=”0141977396″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Floating City: Hustlers, Strivers, Dealers, Call Girls and Other Lives in Illicit New York[/amazon_image]

I must be in a cities mood, as I picked up and have now started reading Sudhir Venkatesh’s [amazon_link id=”0141977396″ target=”_blank” ]Floating City[/amazon_link], which is an ethnographic approach to globalised, financialised, unequal New York City. As I’ve got flights today and tomorrow, I should be able to report back soon.

Shabby housing and shiny skyscrapers

I had been waiting ages for Patrick Keiller’s [amazon_link id=”1781687765″ target=”_blank” ]The View From The Train[/amazon_link] to come out in paperback, and it hasn’t disappointed me. There’s even a chapter about ports and containerisation! It’s a very interesting one. Among other points, Keiller notes the transfer of jobs from ports to haulage – ‘logistics’:

“Not only do ports and shipping now employ very few people but they also occupy surprisingly little space. Felixstowe is the fourth-largest container port in Europe but it does not cover a very large area. The dereliction of the Liverpool waterfront is a result not of the port’s disappearance, but of its new insubstantiality. The warehouses that used to line both sides of the river have been superseded by a fragmented, mobile space: goods vehicles moving or parked on the UK’s roads. The road system as a publicly-funded warehouse.”

[amazon_image id=”1781687765″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The View from the Train: Cities and Other Landscapes[/amazon_image]

He’s interesting too on the shabbiness of housing compared to the shininess of new corporate spaces. I read elsewhere this week that a quarter of the UK’s housing stock was built before 1910. “Under advanced capitalism it is increasingly difficult to produce and maintain the dwelling,” Keiller writes. This chapter notes the relative increase in house prices and absence of automation in construction. I think this is only partly true – there is far more use of technology in major construction projects even if housebuilding and repair is still mainly done the old fashioned way with (immigrant) labour. And the relative price increase is due far more to land values than the price of construction, which in turn is due to planning restrictions and the limited supply. But that the housing situation in the UK deserves the description ‘crisis’, there is no doubt.

I’m about half way through, will review the whole book when finished.

 

20 years on and still in a state

The subtitle of Will Hutton’s new book [amazon_link id=”1408705311″ target=”_blank” ]How Good Can We Be?[/amazon_link] conveys the message very concisely: ‘ending the mercenary society and building a great country’. It is the heartfelt product of the times we’re in, the post-crisis, mid-austerity, fractured-politics state of the UK. Readers of Will Hutton’s Observer columns will not be surprised by his diagnosis of the country’s ills. Nor will readers of his first bestseller, [amazon_link id=”0099366819″ target=”_blank” ]The State We’re In[/amazon_link], which was published in 1995.

[amazon_image id=”1408705311″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]How Good We Can Be: Ending the Mercenary Society and Building a Great Country[/amazon_image]   [amazon_image id=”0099366819″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The State We’re In: (Revised Edition): Why Britain Is in Crisis and How to Overcome It[/amazon_image]

[amazon_link id=”0099366819″ target=”_blank” ]That first book[/amazon_link] caught the mood of the nation. We had had enough of Thatcherism, of the short termism of finance and the divisiveness of class in Britain, the inequalities of opportunity and outcome. The book became a sort of handbook for people on the left of politics working to bring about what turned out to be Tony Blair’s landslide first general election victory in 1997. Hutton is clearly disappointed by how Britain turned out after three Labour terms in office, as well as by the post-2010 coalition. For the [amazon_link id=”B00S9NF64U” target=”_blank” ]new book[/amazon_link] – although quite measured in how it says so – clearly sees New Labour as misguided in its adherence to the Thatcherite insistence on the pre-eminence of markets, markets, markets. “Craven attitude to private is best notion,” goes the index summary of one of the passages about New Labour. The Blair governments turned out to have no interest in the kind of ‘stakeholder’ capitalism advocated in [amazon_link id=”0099366819″ target=”_blank” ]The State We’re In[/amazon_link]. It was seen as too close to the traditional Labour approach to the economy, perhaps. New Labour was very keen – understandably – to ensure it was seen as business-friendly.

[amazon_link id=”1408705311″ target=”_blank” ]How Good Can We Be?[/amazon_link] uses different terminology and of course notes the different political context – the devolutionary forces, the impact of austerity, the  fragmentation of support for the major parties and rise of UKIP. But it insists on essentially the same analysis and approaches. The book emphasises the importance of the institutional fabric of the economy and society in between ‘state’ and ‘market’, and on the fact that government and private sector have to work in harmony in any successful advanced economy, rather than seeing each other as incompatibly opposite ways of organising economic activity.

My sense is that many voters have strong reservations about the role of markets, and big business is hardly admired these days; but the simplistic Thatcherite approach to economics still has a far, far stronger grip on officialdom and the public policy conversation than it has inside the economics profession. It’s dispiriting to read, after two decades, that many of the same long-term British economic problems (skills, infrastructure, short-termism in finance) have not abated.

I hope it will be widely read during the election campaign. Hutton has plenty of interesting policy suggestions – if anything, they add up to quite a modest programme. Even people who disagree with his politics ought to be willing to consider with an open mind proposals that might help address some of the glaring issues such as the need for economic devolution around the UK including English regions, or the fraught question of corporate taxation. It remains to be seen whether [amazon_link id=”1408705311″ target=”_blank” ]this new book[/amazon_link] catches the national mood as [amazon_link id=”0099366819″ target=”_blank” ]the first one did [/amazon_link]20 years ago.

Famine, hunger and markets

Cormac Ó Gráda knows more than most people about famines, historical and modern, and his short book of essays, [amazon_link id=”0691165351″ target=”_blank” ]Eating People is Wrong[/amazon_link], is superb. It encapsulates in five chapters some key messages.

[amazon_image id=”0691165351″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Eating People Is Wrong, and Other Essays on Famine, Its Past, and Its Future[/amazon_image]

First, that cannibalism – ‘famine’s darkest secret’ – does occur, occasionally. Most often when it does, desperate people eat the bodies of those who have already died. Occasionally, people are murdered to be eaten. But the taboo is strong so cannibalism is rare even in terrible famines. Yet Ó Gráda concludes that we cannot assume ‘some silent cultural shift or civilizing process’ has made it a thing of the past.

The second chapter takes a careful look at the Bengal famine of 1943-44, and broadly agrees with [amazon_link id=”0198284632″ target=”_blank” ]Amartya Sen[/amazon_link]’s famous conclusion that it was a famine of policy rather than nature. “The famine was made inevitable by the authorities’ failure to recognize publicly that there was a shortfall, abd by the extra demands on food imposed by the war effort. The famine was the product of the wartime priorities of the ruling colonial elite.”

The third chapter interested me the most. It looks at several famines to test whether free markets make them worse (because food is shipped out of the famine region); or better (because higher prices induce higher food supplies); or worse because of information failures and uncertainty. Another, related issue is how well markets work in normal times – if they are not competitive normally, perhaps profiteering by middlemen and landowners is worse during a famine. The empirical work described in the chapter points to the importance of context: the response of markets to price signals does not function well in conflict zones – in Somalia, for example, the conflict segmented markets for grain. However, during other episodes, “markets worked more smoothly than might have been expected on the basis of a reading of qualitative and fictional accounts.” A key piece of evidence is the reduction in variation in food prices linked to greater integration of different regional markets due to increased flows. Movements in grain prices seem to have prompted supply responses and trade flows. Recent examples include Malawi and Niger in the 2000s. The same mechanism – greater integration, via mobile phones in these cases – has led to reduced variation in food prices in contexts ranging from Indian fisheries (Rob Jensen) and crops in Niger (Jenny Aker). This is a fascinating chapter. The important issue it doesn’t address is the strong sense so many people have that markets should not be allowed to operate at times when fairness matters more than efficiency – reflected in those ‘qualitative’ accounts. Wartime rationing is a clear example. I think it would help to make clear the efficiency/equity trade-off in these extreme contexts.

The fourth chapter is about China’s Great Famine. It is a critical account of some recent books, including Frank Dikötter’s [amazon_link id=”1408810034″ target=”_blank” ]Mao’s Great Famine[/amazon_link], which Ó Gráda regards as too ‘engage’ and insufficiently dispassionate. However, he does not dispute the huge scale or human costs. The chapter is really about the role of human agency in causing famine. It also raises the question of how at the time the famine was so invisible to the rest of the world, and also to many in China but outside the worst-affected areas.

Finally, the book discusses the problem of famine – rare, now, outside conflict zones – and that of hunger, not at all rare. It is critical of NGOs whose raison d’être was urgent famine relief for switching to their own self-perpetuation. They do not leave a country after a crisis, and the book points to the adverse effects imports of foodstuffs have on local supplies, once a food crisis has ended. The intrusion into the operation of local markets is in this kind of context very damaging. “Food aid in a crisis situation may avert famine; granted continuously in ‘normal’ times it may simply injure or destroy an already vulnerable domestic agricultural sector.” Non-famine malnutrition now causes far more death and disease than does famine. Eliminating hunger is proving far harder than eliminating (mostly, for now) famine.