Abstract
In an era marked by unprecedented urbanisation, where concrete jungles sprawl across landscapes, the story of Detroit emerges as a poignant narrative echoing the challenges faced by cities worldwide. The City after Property (Safranski, 2023) extends beyond the boundaries of a single metropolis, inviting readers to delve into the intricate tapestry of urban life and its transformation. At the core of this exploration, I read a crucial examination of urbanisation as a global phenomenon, unravelling the threads that bind cities in their struggle with abandonment, inequality, and the legacy of historical forces.
The complexities of urban life transcend local confines. The experiences of Detroit, once an industrial powerhouse, now grappling with the aftermath of abandonment, resonate as a microcosm of broader challenges faced by cities globally. The City After Property beckons us to contemplate the profound act of repair in the city, extending beyond bricks and mortar to address deeper wounds within society. This is the story of how a city haunted by the ghosts of industrial decline and racial inequalities navigates the intricate paths of property, personhood, and belonging. Sara Safransky explores this urban labyrinth in which every abandoned building holds a story. In a world where urban landscapes often mirror the inequalities embedded in social relations, can a city's future be forged by confronting its past, one empty lot at a time?
In the academic literature, a well-crafted book is more than words on paper; it becomes a guiding light, illuminating solutions to specific challenges and opening new avenues of thought. The City After Property does no less: it offers a comprehensive exploration of land and property issues in Detroit, providing valuable insights into the city's urban planning and development landscape in the early 2010s. It expands to the historical context of race and property relations in America, shedding light on the connections between land, race, and personhood. It also presents counter-narratives of Detroit's redevelopment trajectory, offering perspectives from residents on the front lines of everyday resistance. It examines the tensions between experiential attachments to land and political aspirations, contrasting them with the spatial imaginaries and practices reflected in policy and planning documents. Finally, the book does not refrain from addressing key issues in contemporary urbanisation, such as the subprime mortgage crisis, the COVID-19 pandemic, and social movements calling for land and housing justice. It explores the enduring questions of building a more just world and decommodifying land and social relationships.
As a doctoral student of sociology and geography, the book inspired me for it addresses a nuanced examination of social and spatial dynamics, providing a real-world case study for theoretical concepts. As a social scientist, I have been intrigued by the way in which the book deals with the entanglements of historical context, community engagement, and urban landscape. More specifically as an urban studies scholar, I found fertile ground for contemplating effective and equitable solutions by observing the interplay between top-down policies and societal resilience in post-industrial Detroit. Finally, as an environmentalist and community activist I gained insights into the potential for urban repair to contribute to ecological resilience through the book's exploration of grassroots efforts and alternative development models. The book's ethics of research has particularly attracted my interest. I found thought-provoking the ways in which the author deals with issues of community engagement and the responsibilities of researchers in studying challenging urban issues.
My research interests revolve around the topic of urban voids (Lopez-Pineiro, 2020), and in reading The City After Property I could not help linking it to issues of my own interest. In a world where cities often wear the scars of economic downturns and inequality struggles, The City After Property raises compelling questions: can abandoned spaces be the canvas for a city's rebirth, or are they destined to remain relics of decay? Can a city redefine itself by reclaiming its forgotten spaces? And can the revitalisation of those neglected spaces serve as a metaphorical stitch, binding communities and landscapes into a more vibrant whole? Sara Safransky delineates a transformative vision for urban spaces, embodying a conceptual shift from the conventional understanding of cities as mere collections of buildings and parcels of land to a more holistic and community-centred perspective. But what is a city after property? ‘After’ property here suggests moving temporally and ideologically beyond the narrow confines of individual ownership and market-driven interests. This entails moving away from the conventional property regimes that often contribute to inequalities, exclusion, and the neglect of certain communities. The term encapsulates a vision where the city becomes a shared space, fostering a sense of collective responsibility, and community caretaking. It envisions a city where abandoned buildings are not just physical structures but repositories of stories waiting to be acknowledged and integrated into the collective narrative.
In reading this book, I can see Safransky brilliantly envisioning a city after property through a narrative that urges a profound exploration of abandoned spaces and their potential impact on urban dynamics. I hear the resonance with Donna Haraway's idea of ‘staying with the trouble’ (2016) for how the book amplifies the echoes of Detroit's past, challenging conventional perceptions of neglected urban areas. Haraway's philosophy urges engagement with the complexities of our troubled Anthropocene era, and Safransky's exploration of abandoned spaces extends beyond their physical neglect. What I am trying to say, drawing inspiration from Bruno Latour's perspective on non-humans (Latour, 2005), is that Safransky transcends anthropocentric and capital-oriented views of the city. The envisioned collaboration between human and non-human elements aligns with the understanding of urban voids of Detroit as more than physical gaps but as repositories of societal stories and consequences of systemic issues. This prompts a re-evaluation of the emergence and persistence of voids as results of urbanisation dynamics, which are left unresolved and often challenging to navigate. Expanding on this argument, in Seeing Like a City, Ash Amin and Nigel Thrift (2017) underscore the pivotal role of infrastructures in shaping urban dynamics. Envisioning a city after property entails redefining the significance of infrastructures, viewing them not merely as physical utilities but as vital contributors to the overall urban fabric. This perspective shifts the focus from individual property lines to a more materialistic understanding of urban dynamics, emphasising the interconnected elements within the city. The concept involves reimagining ownership structures and resource access, prioritising collective well-being over individual property ownership. Amin and Thrift's exploration of the political dimensions of urban life suggests that envisioning a city after property requires considering how political frameworks shape property ownership and, reciprocally, how reimagining property could influence the city's political dynamics – ultimately the dynamics of urbanisation itself. When considering how to do this, in my mind there is a direct link to Michel de Certeau's concepts of ‘voyeur’ and ‘marcheur’ (1984): envisioning a city after property involves acknowledging the spatial metrics of everyday life, by understanding how individuals navigate and interact with urban spaces on a daily basis; moreover, it involves recognising the agency of inhabitants in shaping the city's narrative, challenging dominant structures, and engaging in practices that can contribute to a more inclusive and participatory urban environment.
In conclusion, the book not only serves as a beacon for understanding the intricacies of urban voids but also as a catalyst for reimagining the very foundations of our urban experience. I answer and re-propose Safransky's call to embark on a journey of exploration and innovation in urban research: a journey that goes beyond the pages of her book and challenges us to actively contribute to the project of a city after property. How can we, as researchers, practitioners, and community members, collaborate to breathe life into neglected spaces and foster urban environments that are not just resilient but deeply interconnected and inclusive? The answers lie in our collective efforts to redefine, reimagine, and rebuild the cities of tomorrow.