Wednesday, July 20, 2022

Clues to a District

 I have spent much of the last few weeks travelling. For two spells, I have had the joy of helping our children to settle into new lives. In Utrecht, our daughter had already started her job and selected her apartment, and my role was the practical one of moving her stuff from the other side of the country and embellishing it with a few purchases from IKEA. Now, in Los Angeles, my wife and I are helping our son. In his case, his job starts imminently, and together we have had to find an apartment and then assist with the same moving process. Thank goodness for IKEA!

 

It has been an instructive few days in downtown LA. The office of our son is in an iconic modern building in the heart of the city, and he made the smart move of deciding to live initially without a car and concentrating the apartment search very close to his work. So we booked a hotel less than a mile away, half way between downtown and a gentrifying district called Koreatown, with the intention of viewing several places on foot.

 

My mental model for Koreatown was Flushing, a bustling Asian district near us in Queens with bursts with chaotic energy twenty-four hours per day. As soon as we started walking on Sunday morning, that illusion required rapid adjustment. There was the office, towering ten blocks to the east, and I assumed there was Koreatown, a few taller buildings ten blocks or so to the west. But where was the bustle? Even when we made it to Koreatown, the streets were wide and most buildings low-rise, and there were few people, except those passing by in the cars and parking in the many lots for shops. True, Sunday morning is hardly the busiest time of the week even in New York. But this was not Flushing. This was Anytown, USA.

 

Then we spent two days getting to know a whole series of micro districts, all within three subway stops or fifteen minutes on the bus from each other, all walkable, though maybe not comfortably in the midday heat. We had an immediate need to understand these micro districts as potential places for our son to live. We had to use all our senses and to look out for important clues.

 

Perhaps the most useful clue of all has been the density of Starbucks locations. Near our hotel there are no Starbucks at all. In Downtown itself there are many Starbucks, but the density tails off very quickly after a few blocks in any direction. One way to define the gentrified part of Koreatown is to map out where there are Starbucks and where there are no Starbucks. By this definition, Koreatown has clear boundaries; Western avenue to the west, Vermont to the east, a block north of Wilshire to the North and eighth avenue to the south.

 

Within the Starbucksified area, people walk with confidence rather than loiter. Other retail establishments are branded, have attractive shopfronts, but also security. There is garbage on the street, and also a few tents where homeless people sleep, but the prevalence of both is lower. The clearest sign of gentrification (apart from Starbucks) are the number of blocks that have been converted into apartments by developers and are advertising for new tenants.

 

Once you leave this area, the signs for tenants are still there but are haphazard and hand-written. Apart from a few fortresses of fast food chains, the retail establishments are bodegas, or thrift shops, pawn shops, or simply boarded up. Many cars are very old and look like they have been parked in the same spot for a long time. The clearest sign of a lank of gentrification (apart from the absence of Starbucks) is that everywhere seems to close at 8.30pm, even the liquor stores, bodegas and food outlets. This is not an area to be outside alone after dark.   

 

Then there is downtown itself, a place of extraordinary contradictions. There are many high-rise office buildings a few high-end malls and some swanky restaurants. The corporate community is well served, but it is also noticeable that these establishments all employ security and do not open late. The developers have been even more active here than in Koreatown, perhaps taking advantage of some zoning changes or simply of depressed prices during the worst of the pandemic.

 

But there is little feel of destination or community. The grid of wide streets works against pedestrians, and for some reason the sidewalks are populated by hundreds of apparently dead e-scooters, giving the impression that a bomb has gone off and everybody has scarpered. There are also blocks surprisingly near the heart of the city with vacant lots and offering cheap parking. The rents for lots here must be miniscule compared with Manhattan.

 

I can’t imagine that the corporates and the high-end developers will allow the place to remain so marginally safe for very long. But how did they allow it to go so far downhill in the first place? The impression is that the corporate citizens all arrive by car and depart by the same means, using the local facilities during the day but anxious to escape within their automotive fortresses after their working days have finished. Hopefully an influx of young professionals into the newly renovated apartments will change that dynamic.

 

I cannot help but compare the centre of LA with the centre of Utrecht. There are clues in Utrecht too. In the less affluent areas, most retail establishments are unbranded, many offering cheap fast food, and the supermarkets are smaller and sell necessities rather than luxuries. But everywhere stays open until midnight, the streets are well-lit, and it feels safe to walk everywhere. The dividing lines seem to be more a result of careful urban planning than of wealth attracting wealth and poverty attracting neglect. I am sure that once we rent a car, we will find gated enclaves within LA of unimaginable opulence. Utrecht’s opulence is unstated and humdrum. But Utrecht’s poorer areas still have some civic pride, and the denser ones might even attract Starbucks.

 

We will fulfil our mission, guided by the abundant clues and thankful that our son has a budget that allows him to cluster with the up-and-coming rather than the down-and-out. There will be many advantages for him in LA, and, thanks to Uber, he might be able to enjoy them without needing to buy a car.

 

But there is something sad about this city, and for me it does not reflect well on its residents, its politicians, or its nation. Our hotel has a few European tourists in it. What will they say about America when they go home, after having worked out the need to retreat to their room after 8.30pm (and hopefully having not learned that the hard way)? Even the LAPD seem to have given up on this district, resorting to helicopters for any patrolling that we have seen.

 

Searching for root causes, an important culprit is the car. The centre of Utrecht was built before cars existed. New York has such constrained land that the car has not been allowed to dominate. But in LA the needs of the car determine the city. It has sprawled and sprawled, and hence segregated and segregated. Because of cars and roads, nowhere has the human density to build a true community (like Flushing). And the car has enabled most residents to become blind to the misery around them. They can simply drive around the worst districts, or in the worst case drive through them with the car doors securely locked. As a concept for a city, I can imagine little worse. 

Tuesday, July 12, 2022

More Economist Leaders

 Over the last couple of months, I have endured a new experience. For the first time since I started writing the blog, I find myself short of inspiration. I started the discipline of writing three times per month nearly ten years ago and it has served me well, forcing me to develop a pipeline of ideas while emphasising execution. In all these years I have found that maintaining a balance has been quite straightforward. Rarely has the list of ideas become so long that I have had to ignore topics of interest to me. And rarely have I been scratching around looking for copy.

 

I am wondering whether the current drought might be significant in some way. Perhaps it is about the season, with its lack of interesting news and energy sapping humidity. Perhaps an overriding factor is my weariness with the USA, which I try not to allow to dominate the blog but which does consume a lot of my thoughts. Perhaps my brain is slowing down somehow, or I am not doing enough to stimulate it. Or perhaps it is just chance.

 

In the meantime, I am pleased today to be able to go back to a new staple, that of The Economist leaders. I am more than ever grateful to The Economist. To me, its writing seems to get better and better, while little else in media seems to inspire me at all: as an example, my opinion of the PBS Newshour is becoming rather jaundiced. Last month I was travelling and missed out on The Economist for a single week, and I felt its absence keenly.

 

As usual this week, the six leaders cover a wide space, but part of the value can arise from looking for themes and connections. One rather sad point to note is the absence of any leader about the war in Ukraine. Has this become an unremarkable part of everyday life now, just like the war in Syria did before? It is does portend well for the Ukrainians if that is true.

 

As usual this week there is one leader about money, and as usual it is the least interesting. The topic is the future of private equity. Having ridden a boom using leverage and cost cutting to make a quick buck, and then another one using zero interest rates and an ocean of capital to bid up tech valuations, the article wonders where the next opportunity will come from, noting that the smart owners of private equity firms have already diversified to increase their chances.

 

If this article has any wider relevance, it might be about how wealth and finance drive US policy these days. The economy needs debt leverage and optimism to thrive, and policy makers know that they cannot turn off the taps. One place fed by the flood of capital has been China, which poses a key dilemma to the US, given that, having milked the place for decades, it seems to have declared an unofficial war on the Chinese.

 

The other seeming outlier among the leaders is a scornful rebuttal of Chile’s proposed new constitution, as hopelessly complex, utopian, and left leaning. Sadly, The Economist is probably right. The forces of the left do have a habit of squandering their opportunities, becoming mired in factional agendas and struggling to turn laudable but vague goals into effective policy.

 

One wider relevance of this might be to link back to US politics. In the world of microscopic attention spans and sound bites, a well-funded machine can succeed only with something to rail against, and the woke left falls into that trap time and again.

 

Not surprising for a London based periodical, the opening leader celebrates the fall of Boris Johnson. A rather dull piece argues that Britain, and the Conservatives, have deeper problems than the obvious ones removed by the defenestration of a serial liar with no agenda beyond power. David Brooks on PBS made the interesting point last month that politics nowadays tends to be more about celebrity than policy, and Boris Johnson is the epitome of that trend. He leaves behind chaos, a complete absence of vision, and the continuing wreckage of post-Brexit Britain.

 

The third leader was the strongest condemnation of today’s USA that I have read in The Economist, a magazine that has always played up America’s strengths, notably its economic dynamism. All the claims of US exceptionalism are refuted, leaving only its ungovernability as its remaining unique trait. In my current anti-USA mood, I happily lapped up every word. On my trip to Europe, a series of bemused Brits asked me whether the USA could be in as hopeless a mess as the news headlines indicate and asked me if I saw any hope. My replies were consistent: yes; and none. The article supports my view that things have to get a lot worse in the USA before they might be able to improve, and that politics can only hinder matters – which leaves war or revolution as the remaining solutions.

 

Two articles later in the magazine only support this negative prognosis. The excellent Lexington returned in despair from a visit to flooded Miami, observing how even a wealthy enclave cannot act in its manifest interest. There was also an article noting how the “new right” is becoming entrenched in key institutions, so that the next Trump might be able to have more impact than Donald. I tried to work out what the guiding principles of this “new right” might be, beyond a cynical use of power to pursue corrupt personal interests. I failed.

 

These depressing tracts about the West set the context for a fascinating leader sandwiched between them, about Tiktok. The growth path of Tiktok is truly astounding, and, predictably enough, it is now looking to turn followers into advertising dollars and to diversify into e-commerce and news feeds.

 

The first lesson here is how China always wins in the end. Their first attempts to copy Western technology and business are ridiculed, but the educated, humble, and commercial Chinese learn and come back stronger. Facebook has been eclipsed already.

 

Then there is the debate about whether Tiktok is dangerous and how the West, and China itself, may react. The article points out the two obvious dangers, before discounting privacy concerns as overblown. But the concern that the Chinese censors could influence the global news feeds is real and immediate.

 

In one way this gives me cause for schadenfreude. Western news feeds have been bought by Rupert Murdoch. People like me hate that, and Trump too, but don’t complain when “our” Jeff Bezos buys The Washington Post and heave a sigh of relief when maverick Elon Musk pulls out of a deal for Twitter. We have given our brains over to the super-rich: could the Chinese communist party be any worse? Sadly, it probably can. And perhaps the stage is set for Tiktok to be the defining battleground of the new Sino-US cold war. Here is my guess at the outcome. China wins. And we all lose. The 2022 lost opportunity for reconciliation may be the last one for a long time.

 

The fourth leader offers the ultimate context for all this. Starting with a lovely HG Wells quote that history is a race between education and catastrophe, the leader looks at the state of education around the world. The good news is that many more kids are now in classrooms. The bad news is that they do not seem to be learning much, and in many places lost education is a horrible legacy of Covid. With such technological riches available, this is one challenge that should be soluble, and indeed this is a reason for much needed optimism.

 

The leader does not offer data, but I think I read that China is where education has improved the most, while Europe has a growing lead over the USA, with other developing nations advancing only slowly.

 

In the context of the miserable picture elsewhere in the leaders, it is good at least to see a topic that might ultimately turn things around. The politics of China, the USA, Britain, and leftist Chile don’t seem to have much chance, though China’s great run will continue for a while, dragging more generations out of poverty. And at least the scions of private equity will still be able to find ways to get even richer.                  

Wednesday, July 6, 2022

Civic Pride

 I have finally returned to New York after a full month in Europe, spending time in Portugal, Italy and The Netherlands. I have to confess to being in a rather negative frame of mind about the USA just now. I expect that has something to do with the broken politics and the steady stream of awful headlines relating to gun violence or Supreme Court rulings. Then there is the bias that comes from places always appearing at their best while we are on holiday and surrounded by family and conviviality. And July, with its humidity, is hardly the most conducive of times to make judgements about New York.

 

No doubt these factors all play a part. I am probably also influenced by a sub-conscious affirmation bias. Having decided with my wife to leave the USA next year, I am probably looking out for ways to make that choice appear smart, either by building up where we will be going or knocking down where I am. Recently I made a list of what I will miss when I leave. Apart from family and friends (and there are other family and friends in Europe), the list had precisely one item. Our New York Sunday mornings are like an oasis to me; they will be irreplaceable where we are heading. But I can’t think of anything else.

 

I keep trying to explain my relative preference towards Europe in different ways, to others and to myself. I sense that there has to be more to it than all these biases. The politics, horrible as they are, hardly affect our daily lives, at least most of the time. It is true that I am seeing Europe in a positive context, but I can argue that my life in New York is almost like a holiday too. I keep coming back to the notion of liveability, but have struggled to pinpoint exactly what factors contribute to the differences I sense.

 

So I decided to dig one level deeper, by directly comparing everyday experiences. Over the last week I have spent a lot of time walking in Dutch cities and towns. This morning I took a walk through Queens. By noting differences, my goal is to identify what might one place more liveable than the other.

 

To my surprise, it all started with tidiness. I am not a neat freak at all. I do the minimum to keep my environment tidy, my hygiene is poor, and I dress lazily. I don’t think I notice these factors very much. But in comparing my walk this morning with the ones in Holland, I conclude that the Dutch streets are clean and tidy while the American ones are anything but. In Queens, there is garbage everywhere. Some is legally left in bin bags by the roadside, but much else is just casually tossed away and seems to fester without ever being picked up. The result includes lots of unpleasant smells, especially at this time of year. I can’t help but feel that the New York rats must thrive on the filth too.

 

As well as the trash, the streets are just ugly. The few trees are not tended, and the pavements are of an ugly concrete, full of holes and weeds and rough surfaces that we must navigate carefully to avoid tripping.

 

In contrast, Holland is clean and organised. It is far from beautiful Unlike Austria, for example). The houses tend to be of austere dark brick and very functional. Nobody cares much for plants. Pathways are narrow. But all areas are tended. It is clear where pedestrians are supposed to be. There is very little trash. There are plentiful bins (segregated for recycling), and people take the time to use them properly, even for their domestic trash.

 

Then I made a link between the streets and the people. The Dutch people are clean as well. They are far from elegant and are known for poor dress sense (unlike Spaniards or Italians), but people turn themselves out decently. In Queens, in contrast, folk are often wearing ill-fitting track suits and look like slobs, with unkempt hair and flesh protruding from places where fashion would not indicate. In many cases, their gait is also rather lazy. I have never noticed this before today, but the difference was clear once I made the effort to observe it.

 

There is plenty of diversity in Holland, though not quite as much as in Queens. Between Amsterdam, Utrecht and Doesburg, I covered old and young, urban and rural and tourist and local. But everywhere people were neater. It helped that a smaller proportion seemed down on their luck or exhausted or physically impaired. In Queens there is sickness, obesity and obvious poverty to deal with.

 

Is it possible that the issue is Queens rather than the USA generally? I don’t believe it is. I think that all the cities and towns I have visited are similarly run down, dirty, ill-designed and full of people putting little effort into their appearance. If anything, Queens has more energy and less sickness than most places.

 

I suspect that transportation choices play a role here. More Dutch than US people walk; vastly more cycle; and those that drive use smaller cars. The cities have been designed to reduce car traffic and minimise street parking. There are plentiful green spaces, small and large. The public transport is great and the hubs are a delight to visit. Speed limits are low and are adhered to: that may be due to the efficiency of fines or simply that people are more respectful of each other and fewer are angry. In Holland I got a strong sense that everybody felt a part of a shared environment. In the USA (even more outside New York), the residence and the car are personal fortress and interactions with others are minimal.

 

Putting all this together, I wonder if what the Dutch have managed to create is something that can be described as civic pride. The local environment that people live in is decent and improving, and people feel motivated to play their part towards progress. There are written and unwritten rules (and the Dutch are not shy about sharing their opinions), but most people comply out of choice and from their own interest. While technology is used extensively to enforce the rules, often it is not really needed. By contrast, the streets in the US are manned by a police force acting more like an armed urban militia than as a community resource.

 

Civic pride sounds like a woolly sort of goal, but perhaps it can be the key to unlocking a happier and more effective society. It is possible to suggest some policies that could work to engender civic pride.

 

Urban planning is critical, and the Dutch are world leaders, stemming from their need to house a dense population on land prone to flooding. Utrecht is a good example of a city that has worked step by step to improve living conditions. Decent housing is a constant focus. The ancient centre has been restored intelligently. Transport and zoning initiatives have led to gradual progress over many decades towards a liveable blueprint.

 

That is for the physical infrastructure. Just as important is the human infrastructure. You cannot go around telling people to look after their environment and dress neatly. But you can work to make sure everybody has a place to live that they can feel pride in and an education to give them a chance of making a fair living. You can ask those with more wealth or salary or a wish for fast cars to contribute a bit more in tax. Well-funded public services can offer help to those with mental health issues.

 

Politically, have many parties keeps the agenda lively and compromise essential, as well as creating energy among the people and a sense of accountability for politicians. Genuine devolution to a local level is helpful. And a small country with a minority language that is part of the EU has every incentive to learn and to collaborate.

 

The result may be a country with civic pride, whether in city, town or village. Such a society engenders its people to pull in a common direction to make things better, rather than to hide behind the wheel or an SUV. Holland was the clearest example, but I can see something similar happening in Portugal too. Sadly, what I see in the USA is very different indeed.