Infrastructure is an important part of the contemporary urban fabric, as background technological networks and systems that support urban life. A quick search on google would define infrastructure as the “basic physical and organisational structures and facilities (e.g. buildings, roads, power supplies) needed for the operation of a society or enterprise.” However, the idea of infrastructure and what counts as such has been challenged and expanded over time from “physical infrastructure”, to even notions of “people as infrastructure”.
What is Social Infrastructure?
The concept of “social infrastructure” is a result of the expansion of this understanding of infrastructure, as popularised by sociologists such as Eric Klinenberg. To put it simply, social infrastructure refers to networks of spaces, facilities, institutions, and groups that create affordances for social connection. In Sri Lanka, social infrastructure is largely tied to health and education–but the concept is much more complex and nuanced than this.
Key among the qualities of social infrastructure is its ability to facilitate sociality, and as Klinenberg highlights–address some pressing issues of contemporary urban life such as social isolation. Latham and Layton (2019) in their work, provide list of spaces of social infrastructure, which include public institutions such as schools and parks; commercial spaces such as markets, street vendors; recreational spaces such as gyms and sports fields; places in which you can practise your religion; as well as spaces and infrastructures of mobility such as bus stops and walking trails. While the list is non-exhaustive, they draw on the work of sociologists, anthropologists, social and urban geographers etc., providing a guide to understanding different types of social infrastructure.
Social Infrastructure under the Urban Regeneration Project
The Urban Regeneration Project (URP) by the Urban Development Authority (UDA) is a key post-war infrastructural project in Colombo, that sought to relocate communities living in wattes (also called settlements) to high-rise buildings, in a bid to “liberate” land for development purposes. With the URP, the government’s primary intention was to provide “seemingly” better infrastructure facilities for low income communities, in exchange for commercially viable land on which most wattes have existed/exist. In doing so, little to no attention has been given to people’s social lives and how they lived their lives in the watte. While communities were promised better access to social infrastructure such as schools, parks etc., these promises have not materialised, leaving communities with feelings of disappointment and isolation.
One of the biggest challenges of the URP is catering to the varying social needs of communities that are unique and different from each other. The way communities interact with each other, the way they use and negotiate spaces, are far from homogeneous. So, when different communities from different wattes are relocated to one high-rise building – most span 12 to 14 floors – , with low levels of social infrastructure or spaces that facilitate sociality, it only exacerbates the feelings of loneliness and isolation residents may already feel–especially as high-rises are often criticised for their negative social impacts, such as social isolation and low levels of interaction and social cohesion.
Our research has shown that social infrastructure provision and maintenance is not consistent across all high-rises built under the URP. For example, in many of the high rises under the URP, children don’t have access to open spaces where they can play. In instances where it is available within the high-rise, it has sometimes gone into disrepair or is considered unsafe for children to play in unsupervised. As these spaces are typically located downstairs, parents who live on the upper floors are left with no choice but to accompany their children if they were to go out to play. Although it may not be immediately perceptible, this places a burden, and that too, a gendered one, on the time of the women in the family. In the wattes, the community had a sense of safety and security and could leave their children to play by themselves, while spaces for leisure often spilled over to passageways and streets. The lack of safe, open spaces where children can play without the supervision of their parents, has meant that children’s play is now confined to the narrow corridors of their high-rise buildings and parents–especially mothers, have to sacrifice time they could utilise for themselves or other work.
A recent study on intentional and adaptive outdoor play spaces in housing schemes in Colombo, highlighted the importance of taking into consideration the social factors that influence childhood play behaviour. Adaptive outdoor play spaces such as those found in Mihindusenpura–a high-rise under the URP, were found to attract male children or older age groups due to safety reasons. The study concludes that it is important to acknowledge social factors (for example, societal norms and community dynamics) when designing play spaces for children, so that the spaces are not only architecturally sound but also socially responsive.
Looking Beyond Sri Lanka
In Iztapalapa, a borough in Mexico City, UTOPIA’s or Units for Transformation and Organisation for Inclusion and Social Harmony, were introduced as large community centres operated by local government, providing a variety of services, mostly free of charge. UTOPIA’s were created with the intention of reducing widespread inequality, and offers a space for recreation and socialisation. Most UTOPIA’s offer services such as laundromat services, spas where women can practise self care and even centres that deal with addiction. Today, these spaces serve as collaborative spaces that promote community well-being.
These UTOPIA’s were inspired by Manzanas del Cuidado or CARE blocks in Bogota, Colombia, which was an innovative solution to address time poverty experienced by women–the main caregivers in the community. The CARE blocks allow women to pursue education, training, sports etc. while having CARE block staff members take care of their loved ones like their children or elderly parents. The blocks were also established in close proximity to their neighbourhoods (i.e., walking distance), eliminating the need for transport. Interestingly, there were different variations of the CARE blocks, such as, for example, CARE buses–a mobile alternative for those that could not access the CARE blocks and CARE home delivery for those that may not be able to leave their homes at all.
As the above examples show, in both Iztapalapa and Bogota, the cities have come up with innovative solutions to pressing urban issues–one addressing inequality and the other addressing the time poverty of caregivers. They are good examples of incorporating social infrastructure into communities, because they have taken into account community needs and addressed it in a way that is sensitive to the context of the community. Their approaches are complemented by the collaborations they have with different stakeholders including academia, civil society, NGOs and even volunteers.
Conclusion
As our recent report on the URP shows, the standard of social infrastructure in many high-rises is poor, and unlike what was promised to residents at the outset of their relocation process. While the latter phases of the URP (SCURP funded by the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank for instance), have taken steps to remedy some of the issues of the previous high-rises through community consultations, it is important that development projects, especially those that include housing and public spaces, mainstream the idea of social infrastructure. It must go beyond its physical manifestations like parks or even community centres and look at the social needs of a community, drawing from aspects such as community dynamics that are crucial for creating liveable spaces that contribute to higher levels of social cohesion, and improving the overall well-being of communities.
