Local capital

A property market that shuts out most people, and delivers poor quality living environments for many isn’t necessarily evidence that capitalism doesn’t work.

The issue is scale. Distance. Connection. It turns out, location matters.

When the owners live in another community from where their wealth is located, they’re less likely to care about the social capital that comes about from being seen to be generous in their community. They become more focused on maximising returns on their wealth.

The most obvious example of this is publicly listed companies. Most shareholders are less concerned about the salary of the lowest paid staff member than they are on their quarterly returns and capital gains.

An owner who is part of the same community they use to generate the return on their capital (not much happens without people!), they are more inclined to share their gains with the community, Because, lets face it, who doesn’t want to be known as a generous, helpful person.

There’s two pieces to this picture: Proximity, and presence. The owner, the capital holder, needs to be close to their community, and have relationships with the people in their community in order to be generous, and be seen to be generous.

Have we amplified the commodification of property simply by seeking upward mobility and individualism?

The cost of belonging

When we know someone, we miss them when they're gone.

When we are known, we're missed when we're gone.

Imagine if our neighbourhoods were places of knowing and being known. 

Places where we were missed.

Places we belong.

Where we belong because we live there.

Belonging and community are buzzwords these days, and are held up as attractive ideals for our lives. But let's not gloss over the cost of belonging, the cost of community. Let's not imagine that it comes for free, forms without deliberate action, is created on purpose.

Designing for impact

So you want to make a difference. You have a dream for a better future. You want to make an impact.

The next step is to try and make it happen within our sphere of control.

While positive personal, individual responses are necessary, it turns out that trying to convince others to "do what I did" isn't a particularly effective way to achieve a large-scale impact.

Attempting to control the situation based on your frame of reference isn't is not the determining factor in creating impact.

Collaboration might be.

This isn't to say that individual stories don't matter. They matter because they are all different. But listening and sharing is more important than convincing and justifying.

Collaboration, not co-opting.

Coordination and cooperation by communication, not command.

Imagine the solutions for housing we might arrive at if we wove our stories together:

• Simpler living in smaller spaces designed for neighbours, not purchasers.
• Coordinated, activated and populated public areas that are accessible to all.
• Households who know households. Neighbours who know neighbours.
• Cross-generational and cross-cultural living within a neighbourhood rather than demographic segregation.
• Shared facilities for making, fixing, growing, playing and being.
• Literal, and potentially common ownership of local commercial activities.
• Educational environments that extend outside the institution into our streets, parks, back yards, garages and kitchens.
• Urban design dominated by spaces for people, not cars.

Building bump spaces

Bump spaces have been around as a concept for a while, so if you're new to the idea, a quick google search should bring you up to speed. Or you can jump to this article I found written by a local public property genius.*

There's a general acceptance that micro-collisions between people and the connections that result are what makes up the 'net' in a community network.

Small, simple, spontaneous interactions are both a fruit of, and a creator of, connection. 

So in a community seeking to grow connection, we're caught in a catch-22: How to make bump spaces work without a culture of connection, while trying to use bump spaces to build the culture by creating connection.

The answer, as often happens with many organic people-systems, is to do it deliberately, intentionally, and with purpose, for a while. And eventually, it'll just be what we do around here.

Don't wait for the Council to redevelop the local park. Go and sit on the seat with a cup of tea every Sunday morning at 10am.

Don't wait for the local cafe to set up outdoor seating. Start buying fish and chips every Friday night at 6.30pm. And don't order over the phone.

We don't need to wait for the Council, the Urban Planners, or the Parks Department to make these spaces for use. We can use the ones that are there, and create our own on the dirt we can control.

Cut down a section of the front fence and make a bench seat. And sit on it sometimes.

Set up a book swap fridge next to the letterbox.

Set up a herb garden along the front fence. Or in front of the front fence.

Do any of these things at the local park. Or school.

And perhaps along the way we might figure out how to get bump spaces put into city planning public space design, or a requirement for new subdivisions.

*Disclaimer: This is my own definition based on judgements from a distance. I don't know the guy and I've never met him, although I'd like to.