Part I 1
Planning in the âinformation ageâ
If, as was argued in the Introduction, information is the most valuable commodity in the conduct of environmental planning, our next questions must surely be: how do we determine what information is âlegitimateâ in arriving at planning decisions?; and how might that information then be gathered and subsequently converted into knowledge? The first issue â how widely we interpret what constitutes âlegitimateâ information â is of critical significance for environmental planning for several reasons. First, it exposes a clear divide between the two principal academic ways of thinking about planning practice. Indeed, their varying attitude to what types of information might be appropriate with which to furnish planning practice has often been understood to be the core distinction between planning theories derived from an almost unreconstituted Comtian positivism and an inherently normative version drawn from Habermasian sociology. Second, for a discipline such as environmental planning, with a close association to a world of professional practice, the likely correspondence between the quality of policy outcomes and the quality of the information used in the decision-making process makes the question of what types of data are held to be admissible the most fundamental question. Finally, it forces us to confront epistemological questions about how we derive knowledge from information â for example, how do we translate environmental impact studies or community consultation exercises into knowledge? This prompts us to consider what sources of data might exist and how the data that is collected is used to devise an evidence base for planning practice.
In beginning to address these questions this chapter is principally concerned with setting them in historical context, considering the development of planning theory from its first modern expression in the early part of the twentieth century through to the beginning of more recent post-positivist developments such as communicative theory, which will be the subject of Chapter 2. In taking this chronological focus the purpose is to consider the enduring influence of the positivist rationalist school, particularly on practice, and of the Habermasian sociologists, especially on theory, before diagnosing the potential epistemological shortcomings with both, and proffering an alternative, in Chapter 3.
Planning, information and evidence-based policy
The potential for public policy to be influenced by information, particularly scientific research, stretches back to the Enlightenment (Sanderson, 2003) and, more distantly, to the âPhilosopher Kingsâ of Platoâs Republic (Lee and Lee translation, 2003). Its more recent history has been understood as coinciding with the earlyâmid-twentieth-century heyday of modernism (for a review, see Nutley et al., 2002; see also Lasswell, 1951; Lindblom, 1959). In environmental planning this is perhaps best dated, following Hall and Tewdwr-Jones (2010: 6) to, approximately, the period 1920â60 and understood as exemplified in the work of Geddes; in particular the identification of the âsurvey-analysis-planâ approach, which has been understood as entirely consonant with the principles of high modernismâs faith in progress through science (Faludi and Waterhout, 2006a). Such is the standing of Geddes as the forefather of urban and environmental planning that there now exists a vast corpus of work, both biographical and analytical, devoted to cataloguing the methods of planning advocated in his writings, all of which emphasise his role in transforming planning into a âscientificâ endeavour, as Dehaene (2002: 48) argues:
Discussions about survey in urbanism introduced models of scientific thinking into a profession which was still dominated by architects. The introduction of scientific methods was believed to grant the profession greater authority, and expanded the scope of its activities. On the surface, the introduction of scientific methods seems to constitute a radical redefinition of urbanism, turning it overnight from a liberal art into a positive science.
Critically this revolution, here portrayed as the transition of planning from art to science, was perhaps more complex. For Geddes the âscienceâ of the survey in generating fine-grained information about the nature of the place for which a plan was being prepared was understood to be a necessary, but preliminary, stage upon which the subsequent art and design of planning as an outgrowth of architecture were incumbent. This idea of science first, art later can be seen in much of Geddesâs work, where âinformationâ, understood as the quasi-scientific modelling of human kindâs relationship with the urban and natural environments, is constructed as precursor to imagining the possible:
The corresponding constructive endeavour is now no mere School of traditional learning or of useful information. It is one of science in a new and reorganised sense; one of philosophy also, one of ideals above all ⌠The mere observations of the senses and their records in memory become transformed into the images of the poet, the imagery too of the artist, for art proper is only thus born.
(Geddes, 1905: 59)
For many authors the planning that this approach spawned went on to become the dominant paradigm for both the theory and practice of urban and environmental management throughout the middle years of the twentieth century (for a review, see Muller, 1992). Moreover in the 1960s and 1970s the continued trajectory of this conception of planning, rooted in an a priori judgement about what types of information are of most use to the planner, can be seen in the subsequent development of the ârationalâ (see Meyerson and Banfield, 1955; Faludi, 1973) and âsystemsâ (see McLoughlin, 1969) theories of planning. Whilst recasting the activity as a goal-orientated, problem-solving exercise, echoing the âmanagement by objectivesâ literature popular at the time, to some extent distinguishes these theories from Geddesâs conception of planning as well-informed creativity, in other respects the parallels between earlier and later positivist theories are significant. For example both incarnations draw on pseudo-scientific analogy: evolutionary biology in the case of Geddes (Muller, 1992) and cybernetics in systems theory (McLoughlin, 1969) and, to a lesser extent, in the rationalist school of thought (Thomas, 1979). In the case of Faludi (1973: 25), responsible for the seminal articulation of the comprehensive/procedural-rationalist conception of planning, this supports an understanding of planning that echoes strongly that of Geddes, based upon the ârational process of thought and action which ultimately aims (as science does) at promoting human growthâ. As this notion of rationality carries with it a compulsion to base decision-making processes on reason, it follows that information is no less central to fulfilling the positivist epistemological requirements of this theory than that of the survey-before-plan approach of Geddes.
With information of this quasi-scientific nature understood to form the orthodox basis of planning in many contexts by the 1970s (or in some cases before), the subsequent years, it might be argued, have not seen a significant diminution in the reification of positivist data, particularly amongst policy makers. The emergence in the 1980s of tools such as Geographical Information Systems software has paved the way for more refined geodemographic analyses and the construction of more detailed indicators, models, forecasts, projections and geographically weighted regressions (Brunsdon and Fotheringham, 1996), the reliability of which is fundamentally dependent on the quality of the data upon which they are predicated. The result is that by the 1990s the use of quantitative indicators and metrics had become a staple part of planning practice around the globe. Indeed, as the computational tools at the disposal of the planning profession have become ever more sophisticated it is clear that, by the new century, information and communications technologies have come to play an increasingly prominent role in how planning policy is designed and implemented. The dawn of a mass-communication âinformation ageâ makes this a role forecast to grow, not diminish (Drummond and French, 2008).
Understanding the longevity and persistence of this trend is accomplished by reference to a wider movement in public administration that emphasises the desirability for policy to be unequivocally based on ostensibly apolitical, objective evidence. This has been particularly relevant in planning where the value of impartial evidence might be twofold: first, to legitimise policy choices as consistent with an objective construction of the âpublic interestâ and, second, to quell the controversy that would accompany a more conspicuously political decision-making process. The resultant conception of planning as part of a public sector designed to collect and respond to information has given rise to a vast corpus of academic literature that has variously understood this type of evidence-based policy as either a progressive activity associated with the New Public Management movement (Newman, 2001; Nutley and Davies, 2000; Nutley et al., 2000; Pawson, 2002a, 2002b) or else the elision of independent research with policy activism (Bridges, 1998; Harris, 2002; Solesbury, 2001). In addition, for some, the political impulse behind this drive to connect policy with evidence has been understood as part of a âpost-ideologicalâ (Painter and Clarence, 2001: 1215) strain in the progressive movements that dominated politics in those nation states where evidence-based policy has enjoyed most prominence since the 1990s: Clintonâs Democrats, Die Neue Mitte in Merkelâs Germany and the New Labour project of Blair and Brown. On this account, the idea that policy could be led by evidence rather than conviction has been neatly summarised by the aphorism, âwhat matters is what worksâ (Southern, 2001: 264; see also Davies et al., 2000; Perri 6, 2002).
Extending this line of thought, others (Newman, 2001; Stoker, 1999) have seen evidence-based policy as inextricably bound up with the transition from government to governance (for instance, Rhodes, 1997). The erosion of state power by the forces of trans-national economic organisation, it is argued, necessitates organs of the state at all territorial scales to recognise the multiplicity of stakeholders with a de facto involvement in the design and delivery of policy and so forge partnerships that acknowledge and mirror this diversity (Pawson, 2006). Across the globe in areas as wide ranging as education policy (Pirrie, 2001; Simons et al., 2003), healthcare (El Ansari et al., 2001), social work (Humphries, 2003) and urban policy (Dobbs and Moore, 2002) the necessity for evidence to instil a shared purpose and sense of coherency by which partnership-based governance might be sustained has been identified (see Young et al., 2002). For instance Nutley et al., (2002: 4; see also Laycock, 2000; Nutley et al., 2000) advise that:
gaining consensus or even widespread agreement will not be easy. The need to secure some common ground between diverse stakeholders does, however, point the way to more positive approaches. The traditional separation between the policy arena, practitioners communities and the research community has largely proven unhelpful. Much of the more recent thinking in this area now emphasises the need for partnerships if common ground is to be found.
This logic is easy to see: if policy â such as that in urban and environmental management â is to be made and implemented by complex networks of actors, some public, some private, some hybrid, some third sector, it follows that a binding rationale for action is essential to realise coherency and coordination. More simply, as Powell and Moon (2001: 48) argue, what is required for this style of governance to work is âan evidence base for partnershipâ.
Making evidence count
In addition to the argument that evidence binds together the partnerships needed to devise and deliver joined-up policy, an alternative view has emphasised a loss of public confidence in political process, politicians and policy makers across the globe as explaining the move towards public policy supported by ostensibly impartial, objective evidence (Norris, 1999; Stoker, 2010). If decisions can be made that rely purely on hard facts, political wilfulness and bias might be nullified, so the argument goes. When added to the simultaneous austerity in public finances encountered in many states following the international financial crisis of 2007 onwards, this perhaps explains increased scrutiny of public spending on activities such as urban regeneration and regulatory practices like environmental planning and a corresponding demand to justify decisions on the grounds of being âusefulâ and ârelevantâ (Solesbury, 2002). But what is useful or relevant is itself an inherently subjective matter.
With respect to environmental planning this throws into sharp relief the issue of normative information. Whilst it is clear that planning might need to take into account positivist research across a whole range of areas â geodemographic change, environmental assessments of various types, transport patterns, changes in the demand for different types of housing, to name only a few â much of the daily work of a planner (Healey, 1992a) is concerned with weighing judgements. Sometimes this might be testimonies, for example, about the aesthetic value of historic built environments and the quality of life implications of access to green space; these are important issues that are not easily captured by the positivist framework. However, they might equally well be subjective interpretations of what is ostensibly objective data. Just as in all aspects of the social sciences where the variables under consideration are inherently complex, deciphering a coherent evidence base when confronted by information of such differing types is inevitably fraught with difficulty (Martin and Sanderson, 1999).
It is from this perspective that many have come to criticise the positivist conception of what counts as information. Specific to environmental planning, in commenting on the work of Taylor (1980), Faludi (1986: 38) describes the approach pioneered by Geddes as informed by a âcrudely positivist view of scientific methodâ, an assessment echoed by McLoughlinâs (1969: 125) critique that the rationalist approach is pregnant with the âtendency towards collecting information for its own sake, unselective and uncritical wallowing in facts and figuresâ. Sharing this perspective, the first articulations of communicative planning theory in the 1980s (Forester, 1980, 1989) date the beginnings of a post-positivist wave of planning theory that has ever since urged academics and practitioners alike to take normative information seriously and ensure that plans respond effectively to the subjective aspirations and preferences of communities. For such communicative theorists the information derived from the testimonies of residents and representative groups is just as vital in framing good planning policy as that of experts. In short, the opinions of the people who have to live with planning decisions should feature at least as prominently in the policy- and decision-making processes as the bureaucratâs understanding of what constitutes the public interest, premised frequently on technical analyses conducted at city hall, remote from the site of any intervention.
The effects of this agenda on practice have been profound. For example, in reflecting on these ideas Nadin (2006: 21; see also Box 5.1, Chapter 5 of this volume), using the example of the English system of planning, urges a reconsideration of the types of information that might be useful to planners. In identifying connections that run between different types of information within an evidence base, the author suggests something much more expansive than the narrow definition of information identified by the positivist nexus in planning thought:
The finding that responses from community consultation are sometimes referred to as âevidenceâ deserves further comment. Material arising from community and stakeholder engagement is different from what is indicated in PPS12 [Planning Policy Statement 12] as âevidenceâ âŚ. Its use in developing and evaluating alternatives and as part of the justification of choices that are made is normal and appropriate however. The material that emerges from the engagement of stakeholders and the community can add real knowledge about the place and the community, because of the authoritative bodies involved and because of the familiarity with the area.
⌠There is a reciprocal relationship between other types of evidence and community responses however. Information provided to those engaging in the process â through the issues and options consultation stage for instance â enables people to understand better what the local development framework is seeking to do or needs to do. This enables them to make informed representations that are likely to be more useful to the local planning authority, or more effective in influencing the emerging plan.
The underlying theme is a distinction between information derived from research of a positivist nature â housing and labour market studies, environmental impact assessment and habitats regulations â and that gathered through the participation of stakeholders and communities in consultation processes. On this account best practice for planners is constructed as gathering a wide range of information that can be attuned to local circumstances through community participation. To reinforce this point Nadin (2006: 21) concludes that:
A wide and inclusive view needs to be taken of what constitutes evidence. Anything which assists in understanding ...