Improvised Thoughts on Planning Theory #1
Note: The following set of reflections was written for my Advanced Planning Theory Seminar at Cornell University, and it’s inspired by the readings done for class.
Of the many forms of knowledge generation, theory making ranks among the most creative ones. Whereas practice is necessarily constrained by real-worldliness — that is, by mundane limitations ranging from material aspects (space, budget) to social questions (relationships, cultural norms) — theory seems to be, at least in essence, limitless. When engaging with the universe of ideas and imagination, theorizing, like thinking, can become a creative performance of human freedom.
While such detachedness of theory from the real-world renders simultaneously exciting and overwhelming, a closer approach to theory quickly brings us back to the mundane. Because theories deal with the explanation of existing phenomena — which are experienced through our human engagements with the world — similar types of constraints to those limiting practice also guide the realm of theory making.
Social theories in particular not only are informed by the very real, social world we inhabit — but they also can affect how we inhabit it by influencing the ways in which we perceive it and informing particular actions to be taken. That is, social theories are not independent from what actually happens in our surrounding materiality, nor should be considered harmless intellectual exercises. Much the contrary, theorizing about the social world is, indeed, an act of responsibility.
Among the social theories, planning theory is, by definition, the one more directly seeking to influence the world. While most social disciplines, one could argue (not without risk of inappropriate generalizing), engage with the social processes that have led so far to the world as it is today, planning theory, as a future-oriented intellectual field, is concerned with what to do about it. In this regard, the creativity and responsibility associated, respectively, with theory making in general and social theory in particular, gain even more weight when it comes to planning theory. Theorizing about the social future sounds surely appealing — it may seem like envisioning new possible worlds — but one must be consequential with what is proposed.
Precisely because planning theory is inherently consequential — that is, it follows from and can significantly influence the social world — this subset of social theory is also inevitably normative. Planning theorists are preoccupied with what the world ought to be, and therefore must be conscious and explicit about their own commitments to the social world. What are the guiding values, biases, blind spots, and social expectations underpinning our theorizing? Is this driven by the belief that a better social world is possible? If so, what do we dislike about the current state of affairs and how can planning theory contribute to overcoming the social reality that, we defend, could and should be different?
Stating that planning theory is normative and that it aspires to challenge the social status quo also implies recognizing the innate political character of the field of planning — at least in its theoretical branch. Whereas planning practice, as a discipline dealing with immediate interventions in the social world, is often described as being policy oriented, planning theory, proposed from an epistemological distance to the immediate world, can and must be explicit about the political systems and structures that have prevented us from building the social world we envision. (Not being explicitly political may itself be a tacit support of the social system we have inherited, which also reflects a particular political stance.) In short, planning theory is an epistemology of social change.
Theorizing on what the world ought to be is also an opportunity to go beyond the symptoms and investigate the roots of societal challenges. The higher one addresses the chain of “wicked” social problems, the wider the significance of the theory and deeper its possible consequences. Concerned as we are with pressing challenges that require everyone’s attention, we risk not paying enough attention to the structures and underlying social behaviors that have produced those same challenges. For instance, we can design new policies and technologies that mitigate the effects of climate change — and we must, of course. But should we not be equally concerned, if not more, with the social and political system(s) that keeps on “changing the climate” in the first place? Are not climate change and some other huge societal challenges symptoms of unsustainable ways of producing and reproducing the current world — namely, capitalism, colonialism, and patriarchy? Such are the conundrums that planning theory aspires to elucidate.
Dealing with the (rotten) roots of societal problems makes it impossible for planning theorists to remain coldhearted in their work: planning theory is an emotional endeavor. When thinking about a better possible social world, one cannot remain neutral and objective, but there is always a particular kind of feeling — call it excitement, passion, obsession, or what have you — that informs our arguments. Why would we engage anyway in such an intellectual task if it does not spark some sort of driving sentiment inside ourselves? (As occurred with the political stance, not being emotional in appearance reflects a particular kind of emotion. The same logic applies to normativity and ethical dilemmas in the act of theorizing. These qualities only seem to emerge when they challenge the established social orders.)
Lastly, planning theory would be meaningless if it did not arouse some sort of reaction, which can range from provocative understandings of our current social world that expand our collective imaginary, to a very specific policy or intervention that alters the material reality in the short term. In other words, planning theory must be socially stimulating.
To conclude, it is worth reflecting back on the beginning of this train of thought. It may seem that the freedom which, in principle, characterized the practice of theory making has now become constrained by a series of norms that limit the creativity of planning theorists. But this partial unfreedom is indeed the consequence of a particular thinking path chosen freely by me for this theorizing exercise — a path guided by the belief that an approach to planning theory built on the qualities mentioned here can humbly contribute to our social emancipation.
Continue reading: Improvised Thoughts on Planning Theory #2 / Improvised Thoughts on Planning Theory #3 / Improvised Thoughts on Planning Theory #4
