Sunday, May 4, 2008

Much ado about property

The topic of property has been a back burner interest of mine throughout this semester. It began while I was reading Shadow Cities by Robert Neuwirth and continued with various experiences throughout the semester. First a brief discussion of what Shadow Cities says. There are three quotes from the book that really got my interest when I read them a couple of months ago. First Neuwirth mentions a quote by Joseph Proudhon, a French socialist who wrote in the middle of the 19th century. Neuwirth writes "[Proudhon] suggests that there's a difference between property and possession. Property turns land into a commodity: people own land not to use it or because they need it for survival, but simply as an investment. Possession guarantees personal use and control rather than profit. For Proudhon, property, not money, is the root of all evil" (page 289). Henry George, an American egalitarian theorist, is discussed with "Simply put, he argued that the things of the world were truly created by labor and could be bought and sold, while land was created by nature and therefore should not be turned into an economic value. 'The equal right of all men to the use of land is as clear as their equal right to breath the air. For we cannot suppose that some men have a right to be in this world and others have no right'" (page 290). Finally the work of journalist Ambrose Bierce in Devil's Dictionary is mentioned. "'The theory that land is property subject to private ownership and control is the foundation of modern society. Carried to its logical conclusion, it means that some have the right to prevent others from living'" (page 290).
These interesting quotes were floating in my head, coupled with the facts that I was labeled as a micro-communist last semester as well as my interest in putting the environment above human interests. So I was generally under the opinion that the idea of property had gotten out of hand. Then an interesting quote was made during a discussion in studio. Our project is in a housing subdivision named Colonia Hector Caballero which is largely composed of indigenous decedents that initially settled illegally in the Monterrey area and were moved to this neighborhood by the government. In recent years people have moved to the outskirts of this neighborhood and have illegally set up meager houses. We were discussing whether to focus on the housing needs of these illegal settlers or to take the bigger picture and do a neighborhood redevelopment program. During the discussion, which was in English (a little rare, but I was thankful), a classmate stated "why should we help the people who have settled illegally? Why should we give them a free ticket when they are breaking the rules?"
I found it very interesting that the approach taken to this problem was not the unfair economic circumstances that people face, or the fact that traditional agricultural practices are becoming nearly impossible due to development and disappearing resources, or the fact that these indigenous migrants probably did not speak much Spanish. The question instead focused on the concept of property. The idea that the system was above the human. I did not think of this at the time, but later I thought why do architects question helping out situations such as these but have no problem designing for a large corporation or factory which might harm the quality of adjacent properties or even practice shady business operations? Architecture rarely uses the word property, at least in the educational sense. It is always "the site" and property lines are simply borders with which to enforce or lessen. But in this instance property became the focus.
Changing gears, another property related observation I had was the types of housing that are in certain areas of the city. First was the stark difference between houses on flat, level, easily divided land and those on the rolling small hills that run throughout the city. The houses on these hills, which are a bit steep to develop, are covered with houses of the poor. They are similar to the favelas in Brazil that are described in Neuwirth's book and in the films Cidade de Deus and Tropa de Elite. These hills were first inhabited illegally and over the years have been developed with one house or wall, or roof at a time. I assume that most of these residences are legal now, but I'm not sure. The point is the stark contrast between the communities on these hills and the communities that surround the hills. Most people would never go up on these hills due to the perception that they are unsafe. Along the same lines are houses that inhabit Cerro de la Silla, the landmark mountain of Monterrey. On the side of the mountain that faces downtown, campus, and most of the Monterrey metropolitan area, basically the areas that wealthy or middle class people and tourists see, contain expensive houses. Building here is difficult and the land is expensive. And the houses are usually interesting to look at. Travel around the other side of the mountain, just a few kilometers away, and it is a completely different story. In earlier posts I have talked about 10x10 work that has taken place in a very poor community. This community is on the exact same mountain, but out of view of the downtown area. This side of the mountain is obviously less valued than the other. If this is the case then that means the view of the mountain from the Guadalupe and Benito Juarez municipalities is less important than the Monterrey, Santa Catarina, and San Pedro communities. This closely echoes the sentiments of the quotes I first mentioned.



Now, I agree that property has benefits. For example, in the sense of control and entitlement, it encourages people to make their property look attractive. Many housing communities even have rules which make each owner keep their property in an attractive state. But there are also many problems that come from property. When the property line ends, so does the care. Parks, streets, rivers all have a very good possibility of collecting litter and pollution because it has no definite owner. The lack of property creates a sense of disorder, which derives from the order of property. A few weeks ago I drove by a river and saw some people washing their clothes in the water. This same river is probably used as a dumping point for a factory and a runoff point for storm water. This shared property is used for good and bad, by rich and poor. To take it a step further: one Saturday I helped in collecting rocks from a dry river to be used as a patio for a project. Did the fact that this was no one's property give us the right to take those stones? They technically belong to everyone, why did we have the right to take them? In regards to property, we sometimes ask why should we help those who take property, but we have no problem taking resources from collective property to use on private property. (Technically the project was a community building so the project was still community owned, but the principle still applies).
One more aspect to look at. In Mexico there are different types of property that I have experienced. First there was the property of my host family. This was what I was used to, a family owns the land they live on and they control what happens to it. Next was the property of the school. The school is completely surrounded by a 10 foot tall metal fence to keep people out. A very exclusive property. A third is the apartment I currently live in. None of the residents own the property, but it is some off site owner. Small amounts of litter line the walkways occasionally and it takes awhile for it to be picked up. All of this was familiar. Then came the ejido, the place where the rural village is that I have written about previously. The ejido concept was set up in the 1930s in Mexico as a response to land reform needs. The land is owned by the federal government, but the people who live on it use it collectively. No one owns the property, but there are clear definitions of territory with fences. In the two months I lived with my host family, not once did I speak with a neighbor or did I see my family speak with a neighbor. In the apartment building we occasionally see neighbors and have brief conversations. In the ejido, where there is no property, but rather the concept of possession, there is interaction galor. Yes it is a small village, but people communicate vigorously. What is even more interesting is the fact that ejidos occasionally get together to have parties. Our neighboring apartment complexes do not get together to have block parties.
After writing all this I still don't know if it was worth it to anyone to read, but I feel that it is time to at least put it down in writing a description of some thoughts and observations I have had. Is there a real question I have to ask? I don't think so, but the idea of property is so quiet in architectural education, when it is precisly what we deal with. It is odd that I feel so out of my element trying to write about it logically. I feel I must come to a conclusion, but I'll leave that for another time.