Planning begins with learning from the past

I invited one of the leading scholars of Philippine urban planning history, Ian Morley, to write this week’s edition of Mobility Matters. Ian is an associate professor of urban history at the Chinese University of Hong Kong and the vice president of the International Planning History Society. He is the author of the 2023 book “Remodeling to Prepare for Independence: The Philippine Commonwealth, Decolonisation, Cities and Public Works,” c. 1935-46.

WE should learn from the past to understand how the present has been formed and to know where the future will go. It is broadly acknowledged that a fundamental reason for learning history is not to repeat the mistakes made in the past. This is due to the belief that knowing the past supplies the wisdom to grasp the experiences and decisions of those who came before us. It is also thought that if we fail to learn lessons from the past, we are doomed to repeat the mistakes made earlier.

With respect to urban planning, its history is rich and accordingly, there is much to learn.

Knowing what urban designing occurred in the past offers a tangible means to recognize how, at different times, the physical form and use of urban environments were constructed and regulated. Likewise, it lets us know what planning ideas and practices worked well and what did not.

Such empirical comprehension is even more necessary when coming to terms with what urban planning is today and the vast numbers of people it can affect.

Planning is not an easy subject to learn and practice, and even when armed with the same knowledge, planners can establish manifold interpretations of how best to design an urban fabric. Hence, strategies to regulate the character and function of built environments vary from era to era and from place to place.

Having awareness of the complexity of urban planning is no excuse for historical ignorance, nor is the putting forward of alleged “solutions” that will ultimately harm the natural environment, negatively impact heritage structures, and benefit some citizens rather than all in society, etc.

Given, thus, that nothing attracts cars like a new road, any modern-day planner worth his or her salt should have cognizance of the concept of induced demand. In other words, they should know that building more or bigger roads actually makes traffic worse.

With this in mind, and against the backdrop of Manila now being one of the world’s slowest cities for traffic movement, it is pleasing to see the proposed sixlane, near 20 km-long Pasig River Expressway (Parex) has come, literally and metaphorically, to a dead end.

While many celebrate, and some deride this actuality, what can be learned from the Parex episode? More specifically, as an important event in Manila’s planning history, what can planners and the public of today learn as to how well-being can be improved tomorrow for all?

There are, maybe, three ways to consider this question.

First, there is a need to think about the Pasig River. For eons, life has been lived along its banks. This is not accidental and the significance of the waterway to human betterment was realized by the American Daniel Burnham when he composed his grand plan for Manila in 1905.

As a scheme that kickstarted modern city planning in the Philippines, Burnham understood the value of the Pasig, its esteros, and the nearby bay to Manila’s future development. Without the natural environment, Manila could not be “a unified city equal to the greatest of the Western world.” Without the natural environment, the city plan could

not assist national development.

Second, as an articulation of the City Beautiful planning paradigm, one expanded in the Philippines by Burnham so as to subsequently enrich numerous cities in North America, waterways and waterfronts were treated as environmental assets.

With 85 grand city plans having been put forward in the US between 1905 and 1917, many drew attention to the value of rivers, lakes, and bays. In the case of St. Louis, the City Plan Commission Report (of April 1913) recommended municipal ownership of land along miles of the Mississippi riverbank. Such would allow for the improvement of the riverfront and the establishment of a playground and park system. The scheme was “to make St. Louis a greater and more beautiful city.”

Third, there is a need to consider what the rudiments of road planning are, how they are conceptualized, and how, in turn, road planning is practiced. In this regard, with reference to lessons from the past, a small but arguably unknown book in the Philippine context can be cited.

In the United Kingdom, during the early 1940s, the book “Town Planning and Road Traffic” was published. Authored by Alker Tripp, a police commissioner, it helped reshape the nature of urban planning following the social upheaval of World War 2.

Putting forward the perspective that traffic flows must be considered like poison in a body, Tripp explained that if no concord was found between the principles of urban planning and the practice of traffic control, communities would inevitably become clogged with vehicles. Therefore, to ensure that traffic problems are avoided, the planner must undertake detailed scientific studies. The work must start by breaking down what life actually is.

As a major influence upon British planning thinking, Tripp’s work affected Patrick Abercrombie who, before World War 2’s end, composed the groundbreaking 1944 Greater London Plan.

Building upon Tripp’s viewpoint, Abercrombie’s 1944 scheme underscored that road planning had, where large populations were concerned, to be undertaken from a regional perspective. Only with regional planning could there be integration among various modes of transportation and full coordination between land use and transport facilities. The alternative was to piecemeal the layout of new roads and hope that induced demand would not arise.

As to why the history of urban planning matters, knowledge of past planning ideas and exercises can aid scholars and practitioners to rethink what planning is, how it functions, and for whose benefit.

Historical knowledge cannot only identify lessons from the past, it can position them in the larger settings of societal continuity and change. Surely, if nothing else, to better know planning history is to help reduce the risk of repeating past mistakes and pushing forward flawed planning policies and approaches. Does Parex not expose this?