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31 August 2020 | Story André Damons | Photo Supplied
Prof Ivan Turok
Prof Ivan Turok

The number of people infected by the coronavirus is linked to the density of urban living. South Africa’s townships and informal settlements are bearing the brunt of the disease, on top of all their existing problems of unemployment, poverty, hunger, and crime. This is a disturbing situation and demands greater attention across society.

This is according to Prof Ivan Turok from the Human Sciences Research Council (HSRC), the Department of Economics and Finance, and the Centre for Development Support at the University of the Free State (UFS), who has recently been awarded a Research Chair in City-Region Economies at the UFS by the South African Research Chairs Initiative (SARChI).

Prof Turok was part of a webinar discussion on ‘Urban Living Post-COVID-19’ with Dr Geci Karuri-Sebina – who manages the research programme at South African Cities Network and who has two decades’ experience working and publishing in the fields of urban development, innovation, and foresight – and Mr Thireshen Govender, architect and founder of UrbanWorks. They analysed how COVID-19 challenges urban living, social distancing, and the de-densification of cities as South Africa heads towards 70% of its population living in urban areas.

According to Prof Turok, urban density has been blamed for the spread of the virus. “The fear of people crowding together has caused negative reactions from government, from business, and from households. This is unlikely to be a short-lived, temporary phenomenon. It will be with us for some time to come.”

“The virus poses an ongoing risk to society, with the prospect of second and third waves taking hold. A lockdown could be re-imposed and further efforts could be made to enforce distancing and de-densification of cities, particularly our densest settlements,” said Prof Turok.

 

De-risking urban density

There was a simple but compelling idea at the heart of his presentation, which should also be “at the heart of a more effective and inclusive response to the pandemic”. At the moment, the government’s response to the crisis facing our poorest communities is uninspiring. “We need a more positive vision for the future than wearing masks and washing our hands.”

“We need to be bolder and more imaginative about de-risking urban density. In other words, making crowded neighbourhoods safer and more secure for people to live in. Density poses multiple risks to residents. How do we reduce these risks in ways that generate wider benefits, rather than business as usual – forcing people to change their behaviour and follow protocols?”

With reference to New York, which was severely affected by the virus, Prof Turok showed that it was not density per se that was the problem, but rather the type of density. The densest part of the city (Manhattan) was far less affected by the virus than poorer outlying communities. “This gives us a clue that more floor space in taller buildings helps to prevent crowding and makes density more liveable,” said Prof Turok.

The reality in South Africa is also different when you drill down and distinguish between different kinds of places. Big cities have been affected worse than towns and rural areas – in terms of the incidence of infections and the number of deaths. Within cities, there have been far more problems in the townships and informal settlements than in the suburbs. In Cape Town, for example, the southern and northern suburbs and the central city have been barely affected by the virus. However, infections have been very high on the Cape Flats, including Khayelitsha, Langa, Gugulethu, Philippi, and Mitchells Plain.

“Population densities in some of these areas are more than 100 times higher than in the affluent suburbs. The differences are very striking.”

“Incomes on the Cape Flats are also much lower than elsewhere in the city. So, there is a correspondence between density and the disease, unlike New York,” says Prof Turok.

All the discussions about the pandemic so far has focused on the negative aspects of urban density for the risk of transmission. This ignores all the benefits of dense urban living. Intense human interaction fosters learning and creativity, which raises productivity and innovation. Concentrated populations generate economies of scale in the provision of infrastructure and institutions such as universities. Cities give firms greater choice of workers and vice versa.

 

Pure population density and economic density

Prof Turok continued by saying that physical distancing can be socially and economically damaging. “Attempts to force people apart through de-densification undermine all kinds of personal networks, weaken the social fabric of communities, and erode the economic advantages of proximity that are so important for cities.”

“We need to understand that people crowding together in dense informal settlements is a symptom of something more fundamental, namely poverty. The pressure on land reflects the fact that low-income households can’t afford the space standards of middle- and upper-income groups. Forcing people apart (or to stay home) to reduce the risk of transmission just treats the symptoms of the problem. It cannot be a lasting solution. It doesn’t build resilience to confront the multiple challenges facing poor communities,” said Prof Turok.

A key part of a lasting solution can be summed up as building economic density. This involves increasing investment in two- or three-storey buildings to give people more living space and to free up land at ground-floor level to accommodate essential infrastructure and more public space for markets and social interaction. A better living and working environment would strengthen community resilience to public-health problems and promote all-round development. The idea of economic density offers a practical vision that can inspire hope in a better future, rather than the status quo of wearing masks in crowded places.

“We need to de-risk urban density through tangible investment, rather than forced distancing or dispersal. This will help to bring about far-reaching improvements to people’s lives in cities. At the moment, the lack of economic density in impoverished communities is a much bigger problem than excessive population densities.”

News Archive

Media: Sunday Times
2006-05-20

Sunday Times, 4 June 2006

True leadership may mean admitting disunity
 

In this edited extract from the inaugural King Moshoeshoe Memorial Lecture at the University of the Free State, Professor Njabulo S Ndebele explores the leadership challenges facing South Africa

RECENT events have created a sense that we are undergoing a serious crisis of leadership in our new democracy. An increasing number of highly intelligent, sensitive and committed South Africans, across class, racial and cultural spectrums, confess to feeling uncertain and vulnerable as never before since 1994.

When indomitable optimists confess to having a sense of things unhinging, the misery of anxiety spreads. We have the sense that events are spiralling out of control and that no one among the leadership of the country seems to have a definitive handle on things.

There can be nothing more debilitating than a generalised and undefined sense of anxiety in the body politic. It breeds conspiracies and fear.

There is an impression that a very complex society has developed, in the last few years, a rather simple, centralised governance mechanism in the hope that delivery can be better and more quickly driven. The complexity of governance then gets located within a single structure of authority rather than in the devolved structures envisaged in the Constitution, which should interact with one another continuously, and in response to their specific settings, to achieve defined goals. Collapse in a single structure of authority, because there is no robust backup, can be catastrophic.

The autonomy of devolved structures presents itself as an impediment only when visionary cohesion collapses. Where such cohesion is strong, the impediment is only illusory, particularly when it encourages healthy competition, for example, among the provinces, or where a province develops a character that is not necessarily autonomous politically but rather distinctive and a special source of regional pride. Such competition brings vibrancy to the country. It does not necessarily challenge the centre.

Devolved autonomy is vital in the interests of sustainable governance. The failure of various structures to actualise their constitutionally defined roles should not be attributed to the failure of the prescribed governance mechanism. It is too early to say that what we have has not worked. The only viable corrective will be in our ability to be robust in identifying the problems and dealing with them concertedly.

We have never had social cohesion in South Africa — certainly not since the Natives’ Land Act of 1913. What we definitely have had over the decades is a mobilising vision. Could it be that the mobilising vision, mistaken for social cohesion, is cracking under the weight of the reality and extent of social reconstruction, and that the legitimate framework for debating these problems is collapsing? If that is so, are we witnessing a cumulative failure of leadership?

I am making a descriptive rather than an evaluative inquiry. I do not believe that there is any single entity to be blamed. It is simply that we may be a country in search of another line of approach. What will it be?

I would like to suggest two avenues of approach — an inclusive model and a counter-intuitive model of leadership.

In an inclusive approach, leadership is exercised not only by those who have been put in some position of power to steer an organisation or institution. Leadership is what all of us do when we express, sincerely, our deepest feelings and thoughts; when we do our work, whatever it is, with passion and integrity.

Counter-intuitive leadership lies in the ability of leaders to read a problematic situation, assess probable outcomes and then recognise that those outcomes will only compound the problem. Genuine leadership, in this sense, requires going against probability in seeking unexpected outcomes. That’s what happened when we avoided a civil war and ended up with an “unexpected” democracy.

Right now, we may very well hear desperate calls for unity, when the counter-intuitive imperative would be to acknowledge disunity. A declaration of unity where it manifestly does not appear to exist will fail to reassure.

Many within the “broad alliance” might have the view that the mobilising vision of old may have transformed into a strategy of executive steering with a disposition towards an expectation of compliance. No matter how compelling the reasons for that tendency, it may be seen as part of a cumulative process in which popular notions of democratic governance are apparently undermined and devalued; and where public uncertainty in the midst of seeming crisis induces fear which could freeze public thinking at a time when more voices ought to be heard.

Could it be that part of the problem is that we are unable to deal with the notion of opposition? We are horrified that any of us could be seen to have become “the opposition”. The word has been demonised. In reality, it is time we began to anticipate the arrival of a moment when there is no longer a single, overwhelmingly dominant political force as is currently the case. Such is the course of history. The measure of the maturity of the current political environment will be in how it can create conditions that anticipate that moment rather than seek to prevent it. We see here once more the essential creativity of the counter-intuitive imperative.

This is the formidable challenge of a popular post-apartheid political movement. Can it conceptually anticipate a future when it is no longer overwhelmingly in control, in the form in which it is currently, and resist, counter-intuitively, the temptation to prevent such an eventuality? Successfully resisting such an option would enable its current vision and its ultimate legacy to our country to manifest in different articulations, which then contend for social influence. In this way, the vision never really dies; it simply evolves into higher, more complex forms of itself. Consider the metaphor of flying ants replicating the ant community by establishing new ones.

We may certainly experience the meaning of comradeship differently, where we will now have “comrades on the other side”.

Any political movement that imagines itself as a perpetual entity should look at the compelling evidence of history. Few movements have survived those defining moments when they should have been more elastic, and that because they were not, did not live to see the next day.

I believe we may have reached a moment not fundamentally different from the sobering, yet uplifting and vision-making, nation-building realities that led to Kempton Park in the early ’90s. The difference between then and now is that the black majority is not facing white compatriots across the negotiating table. Rather, it is facing itself: perhaps really for the first time since 1994. Could we apply to ourselves the same degree of inventiveness and rigorous negotiation we displayed leading up to the adoption or our Constitution?

This is not a time for repeating old platitudes. It is the time, once more, for vision.

In the total scheme of things, the outcome could be as disastrous as it could be formative and uplifting, setting in place the conditions for a true renaissance that could be sustained for generations to come.

Ndebele is Vice-Chancellor of the University of Cape Town and author of the novel The Cry of Winnie Mandela

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