Diversity and planning education: a Canadian perspective.
Rankin, Katharine N.
|Publication:||Name: Canadian Journal of Urban Research Publisher: Institute of Urban Studies Audience: Academic Format: Magazine/Journal Subject: Social sciences Copyright: COPYRIGHT 2004 Institute of Urban Studies ISSN: 1188-3774|
|Issue:||Date: Winter, 2004 Source Volume: 13 Source Issue: 2|
|Topic:||Event Code: 360 Services information; 290 Public affairs|
|Organization:||Organization: American Planning Association|
|Geographic:||Geographic Scope: Canada; United Kingdom Geographic Name: Canada; Canada; Canada Geographic Code: 4EUUK United Kingdom; 1CANA Canada|
Planning has not kept up with the changing demographic and political character of cities. Leading scholars as well as practitioners point out that this lag is most starkly evident with respect to the rapidly increasing ethno-cultural diversity and attendant political questions of 'global cities.' This paper sketches a specifically Canadian perspective on this problem, by examining current practices intended to enhance diversity in Ontario planning programs in the context of Canadian multiculturalism policy. With particular reference to feminist theories of difference, this analysis of actually existing pedagogical practices then suggests a framework for critical self-reflection and institutional reform within planning education. In so doing the paper also offers some reflections on the political role planning education can play in preparing planners to engage effectively with the social and cultural diversity in our cities.
Key words: Diversity; difference; planning education; politics of planning; politics of representation
L'amenagement urbain n'est pas encore adapte aux changements demographiques et politiques des villes canadiennes. Les specialistes s'accordent pour dire que ce decalage est des plus evident en ce qui concerne l'accroissement rapide de la diversite ethnique et culturelle et les questions qui decoulent des politiques inherentes aux cites globales. Cet article reflete une perspective sp6cifiquement canadienne du probleme. L'article consiste en un examen des pratiques actuelles concernant l'incorporation de la diversite ethnique et culturelle au sein des programmes d'amenagement ontariens et ce, dans le contexte de la politique, sur le multiculturalisme canadien. L'analyse adopte tout particulierement les theories feministes de la difference. Cet examen, des pratiques pedagogiques existantes, conduit a la proposition d'une evaluation critique des pratiques en cours eta une reforme institutionnelle des programmes d'amenagement. Ainsi, cet article offre egalement quelques reflexions sur le role politique que l'education a l'amenagement urbain peut jouer dans la preparation des urbanistes vis-a-vis la diversite sociale et culturelle de nos villes.
Mots cles: Diversite, education a la planification, politique d'amdnagement
The rapidly increasing diversity of major Canadian cities today presents a pressing challenge to the profession and pedagogy of planning. Diversity, to be sure, is not only a classic virtue of the urban, as exemplified in Richard Sennett's (1974) famous definition of the 'city' as a 'human settlement where strangers can meet,' but also constitutes, thanks to the official state policy of multiculturalism, a vital aspect of Canadian national identity. It is, in other words, a good thing that also constitutes the very essence of urbanity; something that no one involved in the life of cities can afford to ignore. Yet, this same diversity--manifested not only in the form of celebrated ethno-cultural identity but also unjust socio-economic difference--often lies at the heart of the most urgent social and political conflicts of our time, especially the ones that planners routinely encounter at the urban scale. Recognizing in this challenge of diversity also the promise of the city, in the spirit of Henri Lefebvre's (1968) forceful theorization and advocacy of the right to the city, we would like to raise here a question, specifically concerning planning schools: what role can planning education play in preparing planners to engage effectively--with a vision for social justice--the social and cultural diversity in Canadian cities?
To begin with, we can note two intertwined avenues along which this question has been--and still remains to be--explored. The first concerns, essentially, demograpnic, and asks: what can be done to ensure that the students and faculty in planning schools resemble the forms of social and cultural diversity found in the urban regions in which they are located? Planning schools have no option but to address this question, given the glaring discrepancies that exist between the profession and the population in terms of diversity--ethno-cultural and other kinds. But the purpose of recruiting the best talent from a wide range of communities is not merely to ensure that the demographic composition of, first, the planning schools and, then, the profession reflects that of its urban environment. It is also to enrich planning education substantively by creating an intellectual environment within which a true diversity of variously informed views on what planning is and should be may thrive. The second avenue of investigation focuses on a range of initiatives dealing with the form and content of planning education itself, especially the evolving structures of planning curricula appropriate for contemporary urban realities. Here too, the point is not simply to provide tools of research that can measure or even increase desirable kinds of diversity. Rather the objective is to examine how engaging diversity substantively--as students, teachers, professionals or activists--introduces new and critical 'ways of knowing' that can eventually transform the very institutions and practices of planning.
Our own thoughts and research on these ways of exploring diversity and planning education stick closely to a pedagogical question: what kinds of knowledge do planners need today in order to perform effectively in diverse cities and how can such knowledge be produced in planning schools? We would therefore like to acknowledge at the outset a wealth of critical Canadian scholarship on diversity issues, especially in the field of education. Indeed, our approach in this paper shares much with the works of leading anti-racist scholars in education and related areas such as George F. Sefa Dei (1996), Carl E. James (1999) and Rinaldo Walcott (2003), as well as Himani Bannerji's (1993, 1995, 2000) exemplary writings spanning the politics of class, race and gender. This body of scholarship alerts us to the articulations of cultural diversity with social inequality, by probing beneath popular but vague conceptions of 'difference,' and highlighting the complicity of some contemporary practices of educational institutions in the processes of racialization and other forms of marginalization. In addition, these and other writers of kindred spirit help us present a specifically Canadian perspective on diversity and planning education, especially by contextualizing the politics of diversity confronting planners in relation to Canadian multiculturalism policy.
To highlight further the specificity of Canadian planning, we must bring in a comparative dimension as well, because we trust that current pedagogical strategies in Canadian schools can also be viewed critically in relation to the U.S. context, where discourses about difference are rooted in specific histories of slavery, official discrimination and the profoundly influential Civil Rights movement. In contrast to the U.S., Canada certainly has had a more peaceful if not a better record of institutionalizing equitable principles of diversity in federal policy, although the country is marked by distinct regional variation in processes of marginalization. Yet multiculturalism in Canada, which was first advanced at least in part as a political response to Quebec separatism, also comes with important costs that have a bearing on the role of planners in promoting the 'public interest.' First, solutions to the problems posed by diversity have been crafted here typically in a top-down manner, by those in dominant socio-cultural groups; they were not born out of 'struggle from below' and as such do not necessarily represent the will of marginalized groups. Second, as anti-racist scholars mentioned earlier have demonstrated, the cultural-politics of multiculturalism often serves to obfuscate 'racism' and 'discrimination' from public discourse, along with the more insidious intersections of class, race and gender, even as these practices continue to persist in multicultural Canada just as they do in the U.S. after Civil Rights.
These contextual parameters form the backdrop for the review offered in this paper of critical theories of difference relevant to understanding diversity and for the discussion of how those theories might inform planning pedagogy and practice. We draw especially from feminist theories that have recently concentrated on the relationship between socio-economic and cultural forms of difference and their potentially contradictory implications for pursuing social justice. Thus it is important to note that several dimensions of diversity are addressed in this paper: not just socio-economic (class)--the domain of difference on which planners have historically concentrated--but cultural forms of difference (identity). We examine both of these forms of difference in relation to the core planning principles of 'equity' and the 'public interest.' Based on research conducted by the Planning Program at the University of Toronto, we then examine briefly the strategies currently in place to address diversity within Ontario's seven planning schools, noting the relatively modest nature of these interventions when compared with the more substantial initiatives underway in several leading U.S. planning schools. With due respect to the diversity of Canadian planning schools and their various urban and regional contexts, our Ontario-based comparative study concludes with a critical and pro-active standpoint for addressing diversity in planning education across Canada. It does so by offering a rationale for demographic change and curricular reform in planning programs, as well as specific recommendations for implementing these measures, without losing sight of the location of planning within the contested political terrain of diversity.
2. Conceptualizing Diversity in the City
The city is the home of diversity--now more than ever, in our era of globalization marked by unprecedented transnational flows of peoples and cultures, technologies and commodities and their concentration in urban centers. This intensifying diversity renders the urban lifestyle appealing and desirable for many; yet, the excitement and vitality made possible by diversely populated cities is too often accompanied by inequity and injustice. In Justice and the Politics of Difference Iris Marion Young (1990) sketches how 'difference' is integral to idealized notions of the urban experience: 'In the city persons and groups interact within spaces and institutions they all experience themselves as belonging to, but without those interactions dissolving into unity or commonness' (237). Young thus identifies four potential virtues of urban living, each associated fundamentally with the desirable dimensions of diversity:
1. Social Differentiation Without Exclusion
'In the ideal of city life freedom leads to group differentiation, to the formation of affinity groups, but this social and spatial differentiation of groups is without exclusion.... In this ideal, groups do not stand in relations of inclusion and exclusion but overlap and intermingle without becoming homogeneous' (239).
The variety of urban spaces intermingled residences, workplaces, leisure spots and green spaces--can provide safety, interest and interactions for diverse city residents.
Difference in the city has an erotic dimension: 'the wide sense of an attraction to the other, the pleasure and excitement of being drawn out of one's secure routine to encounter the novel, strange and surprising' (239).
Finally, the city fosters public spaces where diversity can be made visible and multiple perspectives can be expressed. Ideal city life 'provides public places and forums where anyone can speak and anyone can listen' (240). As such, the city creates the potential for a well-articulated 'public sphere'--where citizens can gather freely to engage in democratic debate about matters of common interest (Habermas 1989).
Young's formulation of the virtues of ideal city life sheds light not only on the appeal of the city and its relationship to diversity, but also on the extent of their absence in today's cities--characterized by the privatization of public space (e.g., Sorkin 1992), a growing fear and intolerance of difference (e.g., Davis 1990), and structures of inequality that render some voices stronger than others in determinations of the public interest (e.g., Sandercock 1998). Young identifies two aspects of city processes that can contribute to inequality, and indeed oppression, in the city. First is the decision making process within which interest groups vie for and bargain over the distributive effects of city projects: 'Because some interests are better able to organize than others, have easier access to the major decision makers and their information and so on, this political process usually either reproduces initial distributions or increases inequalities' (244245). Second, structural residues of urban form unevenly distribute opportunity and maintain dominant social ideologies. For example, to the degree that they retain primary responsibility for children and other dependent family members, 'working women ... suffer from the spatial separation of urban functions, which often limits their work opportunities to the few usually low-paying clerical and service jobs close to residential locations.... The separation of functions and the consequent need for transportation to get to jobs and services also contributes directly to the increased marginality of old people, poor people, disabled people, and others who because of life situation as well as limited access to resources are less able to move independently in wide areas' (246). Young thus notes that oppression in the city can assume many forms; violence is its most overt expression, but, prior to violence, oppression can manifest as exploitation on the one hand, and cultural imperialism, marginalization and powerlessness on the other. As such it can be embedded in built form and decision making processes.
Engaging in debate with Young's work, feminist political philosopher Nancy Fraser (1997) has cast these issues in a broader political context by arguing that injustice can assume both socio-economic and cultural forms. Exploitation, economic marginalization and deprivation differ qualitatively from cultural domination, non-recognition and disrespect because they require two different kinds of political remedy: redistribution or political-economic restructuring for the case of economic disadvantage and recognition or culturalsymbolic pluralism for the case of cultural injustice. The social ills of our cities stem both from socio-economic inequality and from authoritative constructions of norms that privilege dominant ethnic groups; thus neither political-economic redistribution nor cultural recognition alone can alleviate the oppression of marginal groups. Yet conjoining remedies of redistribution with those of recognition can pose formidable challenges, because the former approach seeks to abolish difference by establishing equal access to resources, while the latter aims to affirm the value of ethnic difference and resist cultural homogenization. Remedies of distribution can, moreover, exacerbate cultural misrecognition--as in the case of targeted assistance programs that stigmatize the poor and marginal. Acknowledging such problems, Fraser (1997) argues that a politics of recognition can be effectively compatible with a politics of redistribution only if both are 'transformative'--if they both aim to remedy inequitable outcomes by radically restructuring the underlying socioeconomic and cultural frameworks.
Feminist philosophers have also pioneered in exploring how these concepts could translate into principles for constructing a democratic polity. Anne Phillips (1996, 1991), for example, argues for a 'politics of presence' over a 'politics of ideas.' She notes that liberal democracy has grappled with the issue of difference since its inception--the American polity in particular was built around the principle of keeping the 'tyranny of the majority' in check. Yet liberal democracy has dealt with difference, both theoretically and programmatically, as 'difference of ideas, opinions, and beliefs,' to be accounted for through a politics of representation. Writes Phillips, 'the role of the politician is to carry a message: the messages will vary, but it hardly matters if the messengers are the same' (1996: 141). An awareness of cultural forms of injustice, however, suggests that we need a more nuanced understanding of the relationship between knowledge and experience (Mohanty 1997; Moya and Hames-Garcia 2000). Large-scale struggles for recognition, such as the women's and Civil Rights movements in North America, for instance, have historically shifted the emphasis in political processes:
Phillips cites several precedents for reconciling liberal democracy with a politics of presence: such as the quota systems adopted by some Asian and European political parties to achieve greater gender parity in elected assemblies; redrawn electoral districts that raise the number of minority politicians elected in the US, and 'power-sharing practices of European consociational democracies that have distributed executive power and economic resources between different religious and linguistic groups' (1996: 147). Within a Habermasian framework of communicative rationality, the underlying principle for a politics of presence is that differences in social position and identity are a vital resource for the critical articulation of public reason (Young 1990:127). In 'communicative democracy,' then, (to borrow Young's expression), democratic deliberation depends crucially on the development of 'subaltern counterpublics.' Without such enclaves of resistance for example, politicized ethnic minorities--the democratic process would 'privilege the expressive norms of one cultural group over those of others, thereby making discursive assimilation a condition for participation in public debate' (Fraser 1997: 84) and narrowing the range of issues and perspectives that could enter public deliberation.
3. Canadian Concepts and Realities of Diversity
In order to clarify the relevance of such reflections for planning pedagogy, we now turn to some salient Canadian concepts and realities of diversity. Images of diversity in Canada, for better or worse, are difficult to distinguish from the discourse of multiculturalism. Multiculturalism in the Canadian context refers not only to a demographic reality, but also to an official state policy dating back to the early 1970s that has since become constitutive of a proud and enviable national identity--in spite of its tense relationship to the super-ordinate doctrine of (English-French) bilingualism and the two-nation notion of citizenship it actualizes in practice, including the colonial First Nations policies of the Canadian state. 'When Canadians were asked in 1999 about what contributes to their sense of identity and makes them different from Americans,' reports an influential government document, 'multiculturalism came in second after the health care system' (Department of Canadian Heritage 1999-2000: 9). (1) If social democracy (which accounts for health care and other social services now threatened by neoliberalism) and multiculturalism are indeed the primary ingredients of Canadian identity, then what does the latter mean? In the liberal political imagination, there is a clear image about it: here multicultural Canada is seen as a nation-state (more precisely, a multination-state) without one dominant 'culture' (understood in ethno-national terms) to which everyone is expected to assimilate. Moreover, as a 'multinational' (like Switzerland) as well as 'polyethnic' (like the United States) state, it appears as one that seeks to treat all 'nationalities' (Anglo, French and Aboriginal) and admit all 'ethnic groups' (immigrants from other nations) on equal terms, while preserving and promoting the valuable variety of its 'national' and 'ethnic' cultures, not least those of the 'visible minorities,' as spelled out in the multiculturalist policies adopted by the Canadian state since the early 1970s and enshrined in the Canadian Multiculturalism Act of 1988. (2)
This Act of 1988, in conjunction with a myriad of national, provincial and local policies (of immigration, settlement, public education, cultural production, etc.), now champions 'ethnic' (i.e., non-English, non-French) immigrant cultures. As a result of social struggles that have attempted to contest and deepen what was essentially a folklorist notion of heritage in the 1970s, moreover, the 1988 Act currently includes a sprinkling of recommendations to promote the equality and participation of all Canadians in all aspects of life, (3) even as its scope remains restricted to a cultural realm defined in ethnicized and racialized terms (Department of Canadian Heritage 1999-2000: 10). The conception of difference incorporated into the Act, though framed primarily in ethno-cultural terms, therefore points beyond the restricted realm of culture to encompass the social, especially the political and the economic, as its mandate explicitly recommends 'working to achieve the equality of all Canadians in the economic, social, cultural and political life of Canada' and 'ensuring full participation in Canadian society, including the social and economic aspects, of individuals of all origins and their communities.' (4)
Yet the performance of the Canadian government's Multiculturalism Program falls short of the promise of the Act. For whereas the Act speaks liberally of social, economic and political equality, the 'Multiculturalism Program is specifically mandated to address ethnic, racial, linguistic and religious diversity within Canadian society,' that is, to restrict its scope of operation to a more narrowly conceived cultural realm (Department of Canadian Heritage 19992000: 10). Herein lies the main reproach to be made against 'official multiculturalism,' often missed by the both liberal and conservative critiques. The standard critique of multiculturalism--usually launched from the political right--holds that as a government policy 'it ghettoizes minorities and impedes their integration into mainstream society;' the commonplace liberal defense of multiculturalism says 'that this concern for integration reflects cultural imperialism' (Kymlicka 1995: 10). A radical response to the socio-cultural diversity in Canada and Toronto, by contrast, could be better articulated as an immanent critique of the 1988 Act, by pointing to the gap between the hopes provoked by multiculturalism--citizenship beyond ethnocentrism as well as broader social and economic equality and their limited actualization in reality. Such a critique should highlight in particular the pitfalls--if not the dubious political agendas--involved in the culturalism of not only 'official multiculturalism' but also its 'critics.'
The best example of this kind of critique in fact comes from Ambalavanar Sivanandan (1990), long-time editor of Race and Class and London-based veteran of anti-racist struggle, in his sharp expose of the philosophy and practice of the British equivalents of Canada's Multiculturalism Program--especially the Racism Awareness Training (RAT) program and the Race Relations Act of 1976. Sivanandan tells the story of how the British state co-opted and neutralized into harmless 'cultural politics' a radical urban-based struggle against racism and economic injustice. By emphasizing 'cultural diversity' as the main issue, the British state orchestrated the disintegration of the 'black community,' the political-cultural community, not of ethnicity and nationality, but of class-based resistance against racism. The state's 'strategy of promoting individual cultures, funding self-help groups and setting down anti-discriminatory and equal opportunity guidelines [a la RAT] ... deflected the political concerns of the black community into the cultural concerns of different communities, the struggle against racism into the struggle for culture' (84). The result was a 'divisive culturalism that turned the living, dynamic, progressive aspects of black people's culture into artifact and habit and custom and began to break up [the] community [of resistance]' (85).
The kind of radical black politics encountered by Sivanandan in Britain, made possible in part by a consolidated political culture of class consciousness and traditions of local socialism, never came to pass in Canada. In this vast, white settler colony and country of immigrants marked by weak national cohesion and deep territorial and linguistic divisions, class politics has often been refracted through regional or 'ethnic' divides long before multiculturalism became national policy. As such, Canada was predisposed, much more than the imperial metropole Britain, to develop a comparatively early form of multicultural diversity management. (5) Indeed, the latter emerged not as a response to a challenge of 'black politics' but as a reaction to the aspirations of Quebec nationalism and European immigrant groups. This much said, Canada has developed important socialist-feminist and anti-racist currents. The sharpest exponent of these is Himani Bannerji. Bannerji's critique has much in common with that of Sivanandan, but her feminist orientation has brought vital critical dimensions to an analysis of multiculturalism that are secondary in Sivanandan's perspective on 'race and class.' Just as Sivanandan does, Bannerji levels a double critique against, on the one hand, reductive and objectivist versions of 'socialism' in the 'white' Canadian left, and, on the other hand, the conservative culturalist nationalisms that have thrived within the 'ethnicized,' state-sponsored institutions of Canadian multiculturalism. What concerns her in particular about the latter form of 'ethnic" communitarianism is its persistent--yet rarely noted--anti-feminist tendency.
If the task of criticism here is to note the disjuncture between the promise and reality of multiculturalism, what does this gap actually look like from a 'visible minority' perspective? In a recent study entitled Canada's Creeping Economic Apartheid, Galabuzi (2001) found a significant and persistent gap between the economic performance of racialized and nonracialized groups in Canada. (6) In 1998, the median income before tax of racialized group members was 28% lower than that of other taxpayers in Canada, and their median after-tax income was 25% lower. Other indicators also show that racialized groups are consistently disadvantaged in Canadian society. For example, they have higher general poverty rates, child poverty rates, and unemployment rates and are more likely to have low-end jobs. Galabuzi's study specifically underlines the concentration of disadvantaged racialized groups in urban centres, a condition that applies to both immigrant populations and Canadian-born racialized groups. The conclusions of And We Still Ain't Satisfied." Gender Inequality in Canada--A Status Report for 2001 likewise find that women's over-representation among the country's poor is intensified if they are women of colour, aboriginal, or with disabilities: women experience a poverty rate of 20%, whereas women of colour and aboriginal women experience rates of 37% and 43% respectively (Hadley 2001).
These Canadian realities manifest themselves most acutely in cities. Consider, for instance, the findings of Michael Ornstein's Ethno-racial Inequality in Toronto, a report based on the 1996 Census. Whereas the adult unemployment rate for Torontonians of European origin is under 7%, for non-Europeans it is 12.5%; while 14% percent of European-origin families live below the LICO (Low Income Cut Off), the poverty rate ranges from 32% for Aboriginals, 35% for South Asians, 41.4% for Latin Americans, 45% for Africans, Blacks and Caribbeans to 45% for those of Arab and West Asian origin; Sri Lankans (51%), Somalians (62.7%), Ethiopians (69.7%) and Ghanaians (87.3%) suffer most from poverty as well as police harassment; although non-European families make up less than 40% of all families in Toronto, they account for nearly 60% of all poor families; and their family poverty rate is 34.3%, which is more than twice the figure for the Europeans and Canadians (Ornstein 2000). The prevalence of all this (and more) in a city that delights so many with the cultures of ethnic and national minority groups--and in a country so proud of multiculturalism--certainly puts the issue of diversity at the heart of our thinking concerning planning pedagogy. It also highlights the problems of understanding diversity in purely ethno-cultural terms--as urged in some of the culturalist approaches described in the following section--at the expense of socio-economic questions.
4. Planning and Diversity
What are the implications of such cultural and social realities of diversity for planning? At the core of planning's identity as a profession lies its claim to temper the seemingly objective rationality of the market and the veritably subjective rationality of self-serving politicians beholden to electoral cycles, with a social rationality based on a comprehensive and long-term view of the city-region and the expert use of technical knowledge (Friedmann 1987). A defining characteristic of the profession, that is to say, is the notion that planners act in the 'public interest,' beyond the partisan interests of politicians and interest groups and the typically short-term profit-orientation of the market. Historically, the idea of the 'public interest' emerged from liberal political thought, specifically in an expectation that disinterested experts analyzing problems objectively within (benign) state institutions (and thus at a remove from social processes) could best decide what is good for society (Sandercock 1998). The 'advocacy' and 'equity' traditions within planning challenged the possibility that technical reason could be objective, let alone benign. Beginning in the 1960s, they asserted that planning is political and that planners should explicitly deliberate not only the means, but also the ends of planning (Davidoff 1965, Krumholz 1982). In so doing, they identified a role for planning in representing the interests of marginalized groups and redistributing power and resources away from elite institutions toward poor and working class residents. They thus viewed justice primarily in socio-economic terms, favoring a role for planners in conceiving and implementing redistributive solutions to urban as well as social problems. Their intervention retained a belief in the planner's expertise, in many instances committing the cultural injustice of non-recognition by failing to involve marginal groups directly in the planning process.
For the Canadian context in particular, Beth Moore Milroy and Marcia Wallace have suggested that planners are subject not only to the general requirements of acting 'in the public interest,' but also to the specific demands of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms to guarantee the right of all individuals to be treated 'equitably' (Wallace and Milroy 1999, Milroy and Wallace 2002.). This injunction raises interesting procedural and substantive issues for the profession in relation to our concern here with diversity. Planners have conventionally operated within a framework of equality; that is, in keeping with a socio-economic approach to injustice, they have generally assumed the 'public interest' can be best served by treating all people equally. The principle of equality invoked in this context derives from the commonplace liberal political view of society as an undifferentiated collection of individuals, within which a generic person could stand in for any other person in planning decisions. (7) For advocacy and equity planners, the focus on equality derives from a more politically progressive concern with socioeconomic difference and its remedy in redistribution. The objective here has been to identify the barriers of access to urban services and opportunity for the city's most socio-economically marginal groups, and to marshal the tools of land-use planning--zoning, density bonusing and so on--to eliminate socio-economic differences. As Fraser's work reminds us, however, there are some (specifically cultural) forms of difference that are desirable to retain rather than eliminate, and that cannot therefore be adequately addressed within an equality framework. Here is where the notion of equity, rooted in the principle of fairness as opposed to sameness, can play a vital role. Treating people equitably does not necessarily require that they be treated the same. In fact, it is possible to justify treating some groups differently on equity grounds--in order to correct for past histories of injustice, for example, or in order to accommodate, and indeed valorize, distinctive cultural practices. In fact, in some instances treating all groups the same could result in inequitable treatment for some people.
Let's take the case of land-use, still the predominant domain within which planners work at the urban scale. In Canada, the U.S. and many other countries, land-use planning dictates a focus on the use, not the user, of the land. The approach is generally to treat all citizens of the city equally through uniform zoning and building codes, and to accommodate difference only on a case-by-case basis through the procedural framework of an appeals process and site-specific modifications to the building code--for example in the form of granting 'parking' privileges to horse carriages in recognition of the cultural restrictions on motorized forms of transport among the Amish (Wallace and Milroy 1999). An equity-based approach would instead operate from the premise that people are not all the same, and that planning procedures ought to be flexible enough to incorporate into their modus operandi the concept of cultural difference (i.e., those forms of difference that could contribute to the 'virtues' of urban living). To start, this might take the form of a review of the assumptions underlying existing land-use policies with an eye to expanding the range of 'normal' behaviours codified in land-use regulations (Wallace and Milroy 1999).
The apparently contradictory demands of equality and equity, and their underlying foundations in socioeconomic and cultural interpretations of injustice, would seem to present a conundrum for planners: how to discern which principle should predominate in any given planning situation? Nancy Fraser adds another layer of complexity to her analysis of injustice that can help resolve this question. She argues that some remedies--whether of socioeconomic or cultural injustice--are affirmative, in the sense that they maintain underlying structural frameworks that generate injustice. For example, Canadian multiculturalism policy promotes cultural difference, as Bannerji argues, in a way that affirms fundamental structures of racism embedded within society. Likewise Canadian social welfare programs offer remedial assistance to the poor in a way that creates dependency and affirms a fundamental class structure, rather than aiming to transform it. A transformative approach, by contrast, aims to 'correct inequitable outcomes by restructuring the underlying generative framework'--racism, sexism, homophobia and other forms of cultural injustice, as much as urban poverty, racial segregation and the capitalist market structures that generate these.
Now, planning theory has made its own attempts to imagine what a progressive approach to cultural recognition might look like. Leonnie Sandercock in particular has written prolifically in this area through her exploration of 'the theory that difference makes' (1998:108-125). She argues that 'voices from the borderlands'--of those who are marginalized or oppressed in the multicultural city--offer important lessons for planners, in the form of local knowledge about controversial planning issues, alternative cartographies of social life, oppositional worldviews that can challenge planning's most misguided assumptions, and experiences of coalition-building within which differences are encouraged to thrive even as they are bridged in pursuit of shared objectives. Her work demonstrates that the increasing diversity of cities demands a re-evaluation of the 'public interest', in favour of the notion of 'multiple publics' (Sandercock 1998)--or, a 'heterogeneous public,' to use Young's lexicon, 'in which persons stand forth with their differences acknowledged and respected, though perhaps not completely understood, by others' (Young 1990: 119, cited in Sandercock 1998: 197). In sum, the emphasis in Sandercock's work seems to be on valorizing difference through a 'politics of inclusion,' one focused on the provision of 'institutional mechanisms and public resources supporting the self-organization of groups so that they achieve collective empowerment and a reflective understanding of their collective experience' (198). Such a politics of inclusion, the argument goes, would nurture a civic culture within which culturally different groups mutually call one another to account within an overarching, shared principle of justice. On the pragmatic and procedural side of planning, it also suggests that in addition to schooling in the conventional social scientific and design tools, planners also require training in facilitating participation, popular education, negotiation and mediation.
Certainly the emphasis on cultural difference in the context of an inclusive politics harbours the potential to transform deep-seated cultural values and worldviews underlying racial and other forms of discrimination. It is true that people often change their ideas about one another, the more their differences are demystified. A politics of inclusion also recognizes that a full range of ideas about the ends and means of planning can only be expressed if the people engaged in planning processes reflect the diversity of the multicultural city (a la Philips's 'politics of presence'). Yet it is not enough, as Bannerji so forcefully argues, to valorize difference in the absence of socio-economic redistribution. The possibility of multiple publics rests upon the absence of domination and oppression, not only in their cultural forms, but also in the form of poverty and deprivation. It is especially important for planners to acknowledge the necessary relationship between transformative levels of recognition and redistribution in Canadian contexts, where there have not been wide-scale social movements combating the dual injustice of racism and poverty--where, as Bannerji suggests, multiculturalism policy functions as a divide-and-rule tactic that obscures the racism of the Canadian state. To return to the apparent conundrum posed by the competing core planning principles of equality and equity: at the transformative scale of action, planning is never a choice between redistribution and recognition; both are equally important and mutually reinforcing pillars of justice.
5. Diversity and Planning Education
It follows from the preceding discussion of diversity that planning programs have an obligation to address diversity issues for two reasons. First, based on their recruitment and admissions practices, planning schools determine whether their graduates--future practicing planners--reflect the diverse demographics of the cities in which they will practice. The purpose of diversifying the demographics of planning programs is not merely to ensure that they better reflect the urban region, but to enrich those programs substantively by creating an intellectual environment that welcomes a true diversity of opinions about the nature and role of planning. Planning, like electoral politics, requires a 'politics of presence' to challenge its most entrenched assumptions and inject the profession with alternative worldviews informed by the lived experiences of diverse communities, especially those that have been routinely excluded from the privileges of urban planning. Second, universities train and educate planners who will be engaged in planning diverse cities; whether they can do so in a way that seriously challenges both socio-economic and cultural forms of injustice will depend on how well planning curricula can provide analytical capabilities to grasp urban issues in relation to the multiple dimensions of diversity.
Ensuring the representation of urban populations in planning programs involves, at the most basic level, an understanding of the nature of diversity of the region or city in which these programs are located--including a critical awareness of the relationship between socio-economic and cultural forms of injustice associated with regionally specific forms of difference. A second order of commitment would involve examining existing recruitment, admissions and retention practices in order to discover who gains admittance to and succeeds in graduating from planning programs and who might be systematically excluded or discouraged from applying. Reasons for exclusion include prohibitive costs of attending university, recruitment strategies that do not reach students from underrepresented groups and the lack of advising or curriculum that appeal to diverse needs and perspectives. Students may also be discouraged from applying to planning programs if they do not perceive a diverse program environment--on a website, in program brochures or during in-person visits--in which they feel comfortable. Attempts to diversify the student body, needless to add, ought to be complemented by Faculty recruitment policies, above all by formulating job descriptions for new hires with due attention to diversity. This requires the consideration not only of the applicants' ethnicity and gender, but also their capacity and willingness to address diversity issues substantively in teaching, curriculum development, community service and research.
The issue of training planners to respond effectively to the diversity in Canadian cities can be addressed especially through curriculum development and considerations of the planning program's relationship to the wider community. The active engagement of students and faculty with diversity must occur on both a theoretical and a practical level. Theoretically, students 'need to be provided with a solid grounding in various approaches to understanding and analyzing diversity and inequality' (Forsyth, 1995: 60). This grounding must not be limited to a simple acknowledgement of the existence of diverse groups, as is often the case in planning curricula as much as in official public discourse. Rather, diversity must be explored in a more analytically rigorous manner, as has been proposed in this paper's exploration of the relationship between diversity and socio-economic and/or cultural injustice, as well as of the inequities that may be obscured by Canadian multiculturalism. Here again, the objective is not only to 'appreciate' diversity, but also, in the search for remedies to injustice, to open up planning institutions themselves to critical self-reflection--and an examination of their role in perpetuating the status quo.
Our research on planning education in Ontario reveals several findings pertinent to the themes of curriculum development and student recruitment. First, however, it must be noted that the Canadian Institute of Planners, the professional association of planners in Canada, makes no mention of diversity in its accreditation standards. This is in contrast to the U.S. Planning Accreditation Board (PAB), which has comprehensively incorporated diversity criteria in its review process, The PAP, asserts that 'central to the mission of academic planning programs is the preparation of students to understand and serve a diverse society' (PAB, 2001: 17). Accordingly, U.S. planning departments are required to incorporate diversity criteria into their programs, and the PAB is required to assess progress toward these goals during each accreditation review. Certainly, these diversity standards must be seen in the context of remedying a particular history of overt racism in the U. S. Yet the more covert forms in which racism persists in Canada--through multiculturalism policies as much as through concentrations of poverty within racialized groups--deserve the attention of the profession's regulatory agencies, through similar measures to asses individual schools' commitment to enhancing diversity in planning education.
Our research on planning programs within Ontario universities suggests that initiatives to address diversity within Canadian planning programs remain modest relative to some of their U.S. counterparts, and concentrate on the demographic rather than the curricular dimensions of change. (8) Thus, for example, in the area of recruitment, one university routinely places advertising materials in newspapers, radio programs and other media that target specific ethno-cultural groups, while another sends recruitment materials to undergraduate Aboriginal Studies programs. Another approach mentioned by two separate universities involves depicting visible minorities in promotional material, such as web sites and pamphlets, in order to paint an appealing picture of the program to prospective applicants from racialized groups. Still another planning program explicitly notes a commitment to enhancing diversity on its website. In the area of admissions, two universities reported aggressive post-admissions recruitment strategies, and one university has developed a flexible admissions system that allows for 'special cases,' admitted on the basis not of conventional academic criteria, but of prior experience that could contribute to a diversity of perspectives on planning issues within the program. One university noted that retention seems to be a bigger factor for students from racialized groups, and that it had responded by efforts to ease the transition to graduate training in planning by modifying the curriculum.
Only two universities reported curricular reform geared specifically to addressing diversity issues. They had compiled bibliographies of literatures in the various planning sub-fields with an explicit focus on diversity; these were then distributed to faculty with the suggestion that their courses take up some of this material. Curricular change, of course, always depends on the willingness of individual faculty to take advantage of such resources; in both instances, some courses were enhanced with added readings, altered assignments and new sections. One of these schools has also proposed a visiting scholar position to bring more visibility to diversity issues in planning education (through a course and a conference). One planning program noted that improved communications between planning faculty and students had resulted in a greater responsiveness toward the diversity of the student population and the diversity of society. Finally, three universities reported that they address diversity in the way they structure relations with communities external to their planning programs: two through workshop courses that take on under-represented groups as their 'clients;' and one through a visiting speaker series that targets women scholars.
These efforts to enhance diversity in Canadian planning education pale in comparison to the initiatives underway in some of the major U.S. universities. (9) Here, too, the emphasis has been on demographic transformation of planning programs, but the tactics have been more aggressive, creating greater opportunity for institutional self-reflection and curricular change to follow. For example, American programs, too, have used the web to portray a climate favourable to diversity, but their statements have been more explicit about their programs' commitment to fostering a climate of diversity. Four planning programs have links on their websites to students-of-color organizations or multicultural affairs offices. The home web page of the New School University, PhD Program in Public and Urban Policy asserts that '[t]he PhD program is designed to develop highly trained specialists with expertise in urban public policy, particularly from those groups (for example, African Americans and Latinos) which are still largely under-represented in academic institutions and in the higher levels of public policy professional fields.' Likewise, the mission statement of the University of Illinois at Chicago, College of Urban Planning and Public Affairs reads: '... [C]ultural diversity in the composition of faculty, staff and students, as well as in the nature of its substantive work, is a founding principle of the College.' Such explicit policies on diversity that are easily located on program websites make a strong statement about the importance given to a diverse student population and substantive program content. They ensure a prospective student's first impression of the program registers its commitment to diversity.
Recruitment strategies are also more proactive at several American planning schools. Harvard University's Graduate School of Design has a full-time recruitment associate who works with the Office of Admissions to develop recruitment strategies for reaching minority and other applicants with a particular emphasis on diversity. Its Masters of Public Policy Program sends out students, faculty or staff from underrepresented minority groups to various fora to recruit prospective students. In addition, the Program expects faculty members to communicate closely with students expressing interest in the program, rather than assuming that prospective planning students will naturally want to apply to Harvard because of its reputation. A faculty member noted that adopting this approach has resulted in a more diverse student body. Likewise, University of California--Berkeley hosts a 'Diversity Recruitment Day' organized by a student group called 'Students of Color in Planning.' Participating departments include: Architecture, City and Regional Planning, Landscape Architecture and Environmental Planning, Master of Urban Design Program. Planning programs at UC-Irvine, University of Texas at Austin, Harvard and State University of New York--Albany all ensure that some recruitment sessions are held in area schools with large numbers of underrepresented minority students. Finally, as a minority recruitment measure, the Department of Urban and Regional Planning at UC--Irvine contacts faculty listed in the ACSP Guide to Planning Programs under the 'Race, Ethnicity, and Planning' label and requests them to direct good minority undergraduate students to UC--Irvine's literature and website.
In some instances minority recruitment is supported with a serious commitment of resources targeted toward minority students. The Department of Urban Studies and Planning at M.I.T. provides fellowships for minorities, based on merit and need, which cover full tuition for two years. The planning program at State University of New York--Albany benefits from a school-wide policy of targeted assistantships for minorities. And the Cornell University Department of City and Regional Planning has hired a Minority Affairs Specialist to coordinate with the Minority Affairs Office of the College of Art, Architecture and Planning in the recruitment and retention of minority students. In the U.S. context, too, there is less focus on curriculum--given the perennial obstacle that individual faculty members may be reluctant to alter course content. We were able to find only a few instances of program-wise curricular reform geared specifically toward enhancing diversity. At the University of Cincinnati, a professor and student assistant worked with all members of the planning department faculty to (1) analyze current syllabi, (2) use library resources to identify materials that covered the same content while, addressing issues of diversity, broadly defined, and (3) track resulting changes to syllabi over the 1995/96 academic year (Looye and Sesay 1998). (10) The Undergraduate Program in Metropolitan Studies at New York University and the Urban Planning and Design Program at Harvard University have consciously tried to globalize their curriculum, expanding beyond a nearly exclusive focus on New York, Boston and American cities. The City and Regional Planning Department at Cornell University has proposed a faculty seminar on diversity issues in the planning profession. The seminar is geared towards curriculum development and scholarly publication. Cornell planning also routinely subjects the content of existing courses to student scrutiny specifically in relation to diversity criteria, by incorporating questions about race, gender and class in course evaluations.
To the extent that these kinds of initiatives on diversity--focused on demographic, curricular or other issues--seriously entertain systemic changes in the way planning schools go about their business, they accord well with the political prescriptions offered by Fraser in a recent extension of her earlier reflections on socio-economic and cultural injustice. In Justice Interruptus (1997) she identified the shift in dominant conceptions of justice from politics of redistribution (class) to politics of recognition (identity) as a hallmark of our 'postsocialist condition,' while arguing against the very choice often presented to us between redistribution and recognition in her call for transformative rather than affirmative remedies to both forms of inJustice. In 'Rethinking Recognition,' Fraser (2000) refines her earlier theorization of the 'displacement' of redistribution by recognition with an incisive account of the 'reification' of identity. The most significant upshot of this new analysis, for our purposes, stems from the point that identities are 'reified' by means of "institutionalized significations' (110; original emphasis), not the indiscretions of the signifier as such. To transcend the nefarious consequences of 'reifications' of identity, then, a politics of transformation must above all address precisely those institutions that are engaged in the production of reified significations of identity. As far as diversity in the city is concerned, schools and professional associations of planning strike us as prime sites for such politics.
We have argued here that planning programs in North American universities face a particularly strong imperative to address the ethno-cultural diversity of modern city-regions. They train planning professionals who must ply their trade among diverse communities that will not likely be well served by conventional rational-comprehensive paradigms, a singular public interest, or uniform standards intended to treat all people equally. We have suggested two domains of reform: demographic and curricular. The former involves recruiting and retaining prospective students and faculty from racialized groups, not only to better reflect the demographic composition of urban regions within the planning profession, but also to infuse the profession with alternative visions about the role of planning in multicultural societies. The latter involves incorporating fundamental principles such as have been introduced in this paper--the socio-economic and cultural dimensions of injustice, affirmative and transformative scales of remedy, the politics of presence, an equity-based approach to planning--into planning curricula, so that planning professionals become well equipped to analyze urban diversity and promote justice.
Ontario planning programs have taken modest steps to address the demographic dimension of enhancing diversity within planning education. They have taken fewer steps to review and transform their curricula to incorporate diversity issues across the sub-disciplines, especially in light of recent developments in feminist theories of difference. On the one hand, curriculum change is certainly more difficult to implement, as it depends on the will of individual professors to examine their own assumptions about the means and ends of planning. On the other hand, the danger of tinkering with demographics in the absence of institutional self-reflection and pedagogical openness is that programs will avoid the real issue of how racism, sexism and other forms of discrimination operate within the planning profession. Ultimately, efforts to enhance diversity will simply support the status quo unless they lead to a critical examination of the profession's most cherished assumptions and to an explicit commitment to anti-racism. As Bannerji suggests, there is ample precedent in Canada for 'increasing diversity' in a cosmetic manner (Fraser's 'affirmative recognition'), while leaving racist and sexist structures and values in tact.
Oddly and appropriately, it is in the U.S., with its overt history of racism, where planning programs have developed clearer insights concerning steps needed to transform institutional culture. There demographic strategies exist alongside explicit policies designed to allow a diversifying student body to infuse their institutions with substantive change in the way they view the scope and content of planning. In a context where racism is routinely named within the public domain, planning educational institutions face stronger cultural demands for accountability around diversity issues.
Together, the U.S. experience and the contributions of feminist theories of difference suggest several steps the profession might take in Canada to institutionalize the principles of justice and equity at the core of planning practice. Certainly there is an important role for the professional associations. At a minimum, the Canadian Institute of Planners could incorporate diversity criteria into accreditation standards for academic planning programs, and undertake comprehensive monitoring and evaluation. Currently, the CIP regards its accrediting role as follows: 'the Institute, as the voice of the profession, has a duty to identify the knowledge and skills that professional planners require, and to require that degree programs include these as a condition of recognition' (Membership Manual, Volume 3--Recognition of University Degrees, 3). Issues of ethno-cultural diversity and racism demand rigorous analytical tools and practical skills which must become part of the official bundle of 'knowledge and skills that professional planners require.' Diversity criteria in accreditation standards should include both demographic as well as curricular dimensions. Progress towards addressing diversity in these areas should be evaluated during accreditation review procedures. In the domain of ethics, CIP could also take a leadership role by ensuring that its 'Statement of Values' and 'Code of Professional Conduct' acknowledge the existence of socio-economic and cultural forms of injustice and the different, sometimes contradictory, role for planning in addressing each.
The Association of Canadian Urban Planning Programs (ACUPP), too, must play a part. Three potential strategies for promoting diversity are indicated by this research. First, ACUPP should formulate policy statements regarding diversity and planning education. As the central body representing all planning programs in Canada, ACUPP can advocate the need for planning schools to comprehensively address diversity issues and for Canadian accreditation standards to include diversity criteria. Second, ACUPP could conduct research on the demographics of Canadian Planning Programs. Comprehensive research on the actual demographics of student and faculty populations would provide more detail as to which groups are systematically excluded from planning education. Such research would be helpful in documenting empirically the extent to which planning programs reflect the demographic variability of Canadian city regions. Third, ACUPP could take a leadership role in systematically documenting diversity initiatives within Canadian planning programs and showcasing best practices.
The real onus, however, lies with individual Canadian planning programs: to assess the extent to which their students and faculty reflect the surrounding demographics, to adjust their curricula to examine the implications of ethnocultural diversity for planning practice, and to open themselves to institutional self-transformation that may result from any serious confrontation with racism, sexism and other forms of discrimination. Some progress towards these ends has been made, as we have noted; but the extent of the challenge we as planners face concerning diversity in all of its forms also requires that we regard our achievements with a measure of humility, and a sober sense of what remains to be done. We can say we have succeeded in our efforts to address diversity only when we will no longer be able to recognize either the pedagogy or the practice of planning as we know them now.
Could you please describe any strategies (informal or formal) that have been implemented or proposed in your Planning Program to enhance diversity in the following four categories?
Note: The focus of this research is ethno-cultural, gender and class diversity but please include strategies that address all other types of diversity as well.
1a) Recruitment--These strategies may be targeted to students or faculty and may include recruitment visits, website content, nature of advertisement for faculty positions, etc.
1b) Admissions and Retention--This category may include admissions requirements, financial resources available to under-represented groups, the kinds of information solicited in statement of purpose/interest, content of program website, etc.
1c) Curriculum--Strategies may relate to courses offered, specific attempts to address diversity issues in planning sub-fields, explorations of the implications of diversity to the production of knowledge, etc.
1d) External Relations Internship opportunities, job placement, visiting speakers and lecturers and other forms of fostering relationships between your program and planning practice in diverse communities.
Did you encounter any difficulties in pursuing the strategies you have described above? Please describe.
Do you have any additional thoughts or experiences relating to diversity and planning that you feel would be instructive for planning educators?
(1) In addition, an increasing proportion of Canadians (in 1999 more than 83%) agree that 'the multicultural make-up is one of the best things about Canada,' suggesting according to the Report that '[t]here is evidence of a stronger connection between multiculturalism and Canada's sense of identity' (Department of Canadian Heritage 1999-2000: 9).
(2) The Canadian Multiculturalism Act (1988) also asserts that unequivocally that 'multiculturalism is a fundamental characteristic of Canadian heritage and identity.'
(3) The Canadian Multiculturalism Act, according to which 'multiculturalism is a fundamental characteristic of Canadian heritage and identity,' can be accessed at: http//laws.justice.gc.ca/en/C-18.7/29493.html#rid-29500. On the contested history of multiculturalism policy, see Abu-Laban (1995) and Satzewitch (1999).
(4) The Act also recognizes for its part that 'diverse cultures of Canadian society' are 'evolving expressions,' not static entities--contrary to the commonplace accusation made by careless critics of 'official multiculturalism.'
(5) On the distinction between imperial and republican citizenship regime of Britain and the multicultural model in Canada, see Castles and Miller (1993).
(6) In this study, conducted for the Centre for Social Justice, Toronto, the term 'racialized groups' is used in place of the more common term 'visible minorities.' The report's summary explains this choice: 'In presenting his findings the report's author, Grace-Edward Galabuzi, a political scientist at York University, rejects the term visible minorities used by the federal government to define persons, other than Aboriginal peoples, who are non-Caucasian in race or nonwhite in colour. The old term [visible minorities] categorizes people as a minority when in some urban areas such as the City of Toronto the people in this category outnumber whites. Nor does it convey the fact that racism acts as the dominant force setting people apart.'
(7) In a recent study of planning practices in the Greater Toronto Area, Milroy and Wallace (2002) document the extent to which this view of planning still prevails. For example, one rationale offered by their respondents for not collecting ethno-racially specific data is that planners are bound by the definition of 'good planning' to 'treat everybody equally under the planning process' (21); a similar rationale was argued for rejecting practices of 'targeting in favor for or against' certain groups of people.
(8) The findings discussed here illustrate a variety of strategies that have been used by planning programs to enhance diversity both in the demographic makeup of their student populations and in the substantive content of their curricula. They were compiled by Sarah Weinstock as part of her Masters thesis research, by means of questionnaires mailed to the directors of the seven planning programs in Ontario. (See Appendix for questionnaire.) Schools were asked to describe any strategies (informal or formal) that have been implemented or proposed in their planning programs to enhance diversity in four categories: Recruitment, Admissions and Retention, Curriculum, and External Relations. The initiatives listed here certainly do not provide an exhaustive picture of diversity-enhancing approaches undertaken in Ontario, as they are limited to only those strategies identified on the questionnaires. Since the goal here was not to compare or rank specific Ontario universities in terms of the quantity or quality of their strategies for enhancing diversity, specific strategies have not been credited to individual schools.
(9) Diversity-enhancing strategies of major US planning programs were compiled by the Diversity Committee of the Planning Faculty at the University of Toronto. Sarah Weinstock analyzed telephone interview transcripts and emails between University of Toronto faculty and their contacts at American planning schools. She also examined the web pages of American planning programs. The strategies compiled in this section were previously documented in a report titled 'Ethnocultural Diversity and Planning Education: Lessons from North America' by Kanishka Goonewardena, Katharine Rankin and Sarah Weinstock).
(10) For other bibliographies that have compiled sources related to diversity issues, see Sandercock and Forsyth (1992), Ritzdorf (1993-94), Metzger (1996) and Sen (1999).
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Metzger, J.T. 1996. The Theory and Practice of Equity Planning: An Annotated Bibliography. Journal of Planning Literature 11 (1): 112-130.
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Katharine N. Rankin
Department of Geography/Program in Planning
University of Toronto
... from an objectively defined set of interests (that just needed more vigorous pursuit) to a more exploratory notion of possibilities thus far silenced and ideas one had to struggle to express. In this latter understanding of the processes that generate needs and concerns and ideas, it is harder to sustain the primacy of ideas over political presence. If it is simply a question of representing a given range of ideas and interests, it may not much matter who does the work of representation. But if the range of ideas has been curtailed by orthodoxies that rendered alternatives invisible, there will be no satisfactory solution short of changing the people who represent and develop the ideas (Phillips 1996: 142).
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