Urban Planning

A town ninety miles north of the Arctic Circle does not need two city halls, two high schools, and two fire stations. To establish a new city, the old one must die, and this project to destroy and rebuild central Kiruna—known as the “urban” or “social transformation”—has now been ongoing for more than two decades.

In a majority-homeowner nation, the rental crisis alone cannot explain Harris’s defeat, especially since the concentration of renters in cities means that as a group they likely still tilted toward her. But the demographic overlap between tenants and those who moved away from Harris cannot be ignored. Moreover, the failure to adequately address the housing crisis exemplifies the fecklessness that doomed Harris’s campaign. Any effort to challenge Trump and the reactionary forces he spearheads must not make the same mistake.

The Grand Hyatt may have been achieved through blackmail, but once Trump and his enablers set the precedent, it became the paradigm still practiced in this city and many others. In the 1970s cities needed money, and rather than pursuing revenue by taxing the rich, many mayors—sometimes grudgingly, sometimes enthusiastically—embraced the idea that it would be better not to tax them outright, and instead inaugurate a race to the bottom between cities for who could create the climate most friendly to the rich (and, almost by definition, most hostile to the poor).

The dual messages felt scrambled by that dialectic of trauma—the pain of remembering, the need to move on; the need to have it remembered, the pain of others forgetting. And what about the name? Memorials typically commemorate the dead for something they did heroically or that tragically befell them. This one played with time. Dedicated to the memory of all survivors—by definition alive—in the past, present, and future.

In media and popular culture, Newark has long appeared as irredeemably unsexy, violent, destitute. “Queer Newark reclaims Newark,” Strub declares defiantly, “as a place of desire, love, eroticism, community, and resistance.” The book snuffs out the dominant view of the city, one ethnography and endnote at a time.

Snoop Dogg was our everyman everywhere all at once. One day he was taking a dunk with Michael Phelps, joking about his lung power; the next he was with Martha Stewart at Versailles, teaching us the difference between “piaffe” and “passage.” For an amateur among experts, his commentary ended up as some of the best of the stretch, with his freestyle riffs voiced over BMX highlights (“you mean he’s two-wheelin’ and dealin’ and gold-medal fulfillin’?”) and out at the Stade de France for the steeplechase (“we’re about to get to dippin’, rippin’, ride and slippin’”).

Pinning the blame on Moses, or celebrating Jacobs, or vice versa is a way out of a big question that neither the political left or right in the United States has many clear answers to: how to resolve the tension between the benefits and pitfalls of large-scale planning and local control.

Though we were in a braking zone, which meant we would get to see the cars for an extra second as they slowed into the turn, my view of their approach was mostly obstructed by bleachers draped in a Jack Daniels ad. Still, I found myself waiting with anticipation for the cars to scream by in a blur every minute and a half. A group of twentysomethings looking for the concert stage where the Chainsmokers were playing postrace ended up staying to watch. A couple of cops nodded along to P.O.D.’s “Boom” blasting from speakers nearby.

As Kimmelman’s employer keeps reminding us with googly-eyed headlines, rent is soaring. The city’s pandemic-era eviction moratorium has been lifted. Our new mayor is a cop who seems to disdain unhoused people. And the architects of the largest residential transformation in the city today—the supposedly radical campaign to close Rikers Island—insist that incarcerated New Yorkers should be in a better jail, not in apartments.