132 23 1005KB
English Pages 136 [125] Year 2023
Best Masters
Daniel Weissenrieder
Exploring Platform Urbanism Using Counter-Mapping Opening the Black Box
BestMasters
Mit „BestMasters“ zeichnet Springer die besten Masterarbeiten aus, die an renommierten Hochschulen in Deutschland, Österreich und der Schweiz entstanden sind. Die mit Höchstnote ausgezeichneten Arbeiten wurden durch Gutachter zur Veröffentlichung empfohlen und behandeln aktuelle Themen aus unterschiedlichen Fachgebieten der Naturwissenschaften, Psychologie, Technik und Wirtschaftswissenschaften. Die Reihe wendet sich an Praktiker und Wissenschaftler gleichermaßen und soll insbesondere auch Nachwuchswissenschaftlern Orientierung geben. Springer awards “BestMasters” to the best master’s theses which have been completed at renowned Universities in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland. The studies received highest marks and were recommended for publication by supervisors. They address current issues from various fields of research in natural sciences, psychology, technology, and economics. The series addresses practitioners as well as scientists and, in particular, offers guidance for early stage researchers.
Daniel Weissenrieder
Exploring Platform Urbanism Using Counter-Mapping Opening the Black Box
Daniel Weissenrieder Tübingen, Germany
ISSN 2625-3577 ISSN 2625-3615 (electronic) BestMasters ISBN 978-3-658-40647-9 ISBN 978-3-658-40648-6 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-658-40648-6 © The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Fachmedien Wiesbaden GmbH, part of Springer Nature 2023 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors, and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations. This Springer VS imprint is published by the registered company Springer Fachmedien Wiesbaden GmbH, part of Springer Nature. The registered company address is: Abraham-Lincoln-Str. 46, 65189 Wiesbaden, Germany
Abstract
In recent years, the world witnessed the rise of big digital platforms like Amazon, Airbnb, and Uber. As a result, not only various sectors of the economy have been turned upside down, but the experience of platforms also impacts everyday life. Whether at work, shopping, or commuting, we encounter platforms everywhere. Private and intimate areas of people’s lives are no exception. Even social life, dating, or housing environments are being reshaped by platforms. This everyday experience with platforms has recently developed into a research area on its own—platform urbanism. As platform urbanism focuses on many, even intimate, areas of daily life, the field of research is far-reaching and promising, which is evident in the current strong scholarly interest. Nevertheless, scholars who examine platforms and their effects and processes in more detail are repeatedly confronted with the same problem: the opacity as well as the difficult accessibility of facets of the research field. Given this context, scholars refer to platform urbanism as a black box and call for action. In a recent article, the research group Fields et al. (2020) proposes the use of counter-mapping, an approach from critical cartography, which they claim will provide a more detailed look at platform urbanism. This thesis takes up this call and examines as a research question the applicability of counter-mapping in the context of a closer examination of platform urbanism. Therefore, based on the current state of research, five urban dimensions were identified, where platforms affect urban life (food and consumption, logistics, work, mobility, and housing). In order to explain how counter-mapping practices can be used for a closer examination of these categories, several examples of counter-mappings have been included for each of those five areas. Since there are currently no counter-mapping projects with an explicit focus on platform urbanism, this thesis utilized already existing practices focusing on other topics.
v
vi
Abstract
These existing approaches were classified into the five urban dimensions and then, through adjustments, starting points for their respective application in the context of platform urbanism were elaborated. As a result, several projects have proven that they are suitable for use in the context of platform urbanism, sometimes requiring only minimal adjustments. In this way, numerous starting points could be worked out. In addition, the results also indicate that not only countermapping practices, but other participatory mapping approaches or approaches related to critical cartography as well can be beneficial to explore the topic of platform urbanism. This thesis thereby initially establishes the connection between countermapping and platform urbanism. By providing numerous starting points, the work offers much potential for future research, which must now put this approach into practice. Keywords: Platform urbanism · Platform capitalism · Smart city · Critical cartography · Participatory mapping · Counter-mapping
Contents
1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
1
2 Method . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.1 Starting Point: the Black Box . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.2 Method: Opening-up . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.3 Limitations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
5 5 7 8
3 Approaching Platform Urbanism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.1 Understandings of Platforms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.1.1 Platforms as Intermediaries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.1.2 Platforms as Corporations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.1.3 Platforms as Spatial Arrangements . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.1.4 Platforms in a Core and Periphery Model . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.1.5 Platforms as Gatekeepers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.1.6 Synthesis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.2 The variety of Platforms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.3 Platform Economics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.3.1 The Gig-economy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.3.2 The Sharing Economy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.3.3 Platform Capitalism & Platform Economy . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.4 Smart Cities . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.5 Infrastructure Studies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.6 Platform Urbanism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.6.1 Locating Platform Urbanism Between the Disciplines . . . 3.6.2 Inputs From Related Fields . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.6.3 Choosing Urban Space . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.6.4 Defining Platform Urbanism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.6.5 Criticism of Platform Urbanism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
11 11 12 12 13 14 15 16 17 19 20 22 22 24 28 29 29 31 33 34 36 vii
viii
Contents
4 Impact of platforms on urban space . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4.1 Food and Consumption . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4.2 Logistics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4.3 Work . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4.4 Mobility and Transportation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4.5 Accommodation and Housing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4.6 Overview . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
39 40 42 44 47 52 54
5 Critical Cartography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5.1 Theoretical Shifts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5.1.1 J. Brian Harley . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5.1.2 Pioneers of Critical Cartography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5.1.3 Principles of Critical Cartography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5.2 Critical Mapping Practices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5.2.1 Technological Shifts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5.3 Participatory Mapping . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5.4 Counter-mapping . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5.4.1 Understandings of Counter-mapping . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5.4.2 Challenging Cartographic Ties . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5.4.3 Criticism of Counter-mapping . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5.5 Beyond Counter-mapping . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5.5.1 Vernacular Mapping . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5.5.2 Social Cartography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
57 58 59 61 63 66 66 70 71 72 75 77 79 80 81
6 Counter-mapping platform urbanism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6.1 Food and Consumption . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6.2 Logistics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6.3 Work . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6.4 Mobility . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6.5 Accommodation and Housing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6.6 …and Beyond . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6.6.1 Beyond urban categories . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6.6.2 Beyond categories… . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6.6.3 Beyond maps… . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
83 83 84 85 86 88 91 92 93 93
7 Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
99
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
105
Abbreviations
3cs aaa AEMP AI AK API B2Bs B2Cs C2Cs CEO COVID-19 EU GIS GPS IBM ILO MTurk NDR P2P PGIS SSRN US VGI XML
Counter Cartographies Collective Atelier d’architecture autogérée The Anti-Eviction Mapping Project Artificial Intelligence Arbeitskreis [working group] Application programming interface Third-party business-to-businesses Third-party business-to-consumer Consumer-to-consumer platforms Chief Executive Officer Coronavirus disease 2019 European Union Geographic information system Global Positioning System International Business Machines Corporation International Labour Organisation Amazon Mechanical Turk Narratives of Displacement and Resistance Peer-to-Peer Participatory GIS Social Science Research Network United States of America Volunteered geographic information Extensible markup language
ix
List of Figures
Figure 5.1 Figure 5.2
Locating Counter-mapping . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Areas of tension of counter-mapping . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
72 79
xi
List of Tables
Table 4.1 Table 6.1
Areas of platform urbanism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Counter-mappings outside urban dimensions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
55 92
xiii
List of Textboxes
Textbox Textbox Textbox Textbox Textbox
3.1 3.2 3.3 4.1 5.1
Textbox 5.2 Textbox Textbox Textbox Textbox Textbox
5.3 5.4 5.5 5.6 5.7
Power and platforms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Examples of platforms in various sectors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Precarious work . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The impact of social media . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Theoretical influences for the critique of critical cartography and critical GIS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . From a critique of critical cartography to post-critical cartography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Critical everything? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . New era—new notions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Participatory research . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Counter-mapping as part of the activist toolbox . . . . . . . . . . Community mapping . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
15 17 20 49 60 64 67 69 70 73 76
xv
1
Introduction
“Google Maps guides people through the city, modifying its geography; Amazon affects consumption and delivery vans clog the streets. Practices and spaces of dating and going out are changing through apps like Tinder and Grindr. ShareNow, Lime, and many others rent out electric scooters, bikes, and cars through their apps, aiming to revolutionize urban mobility. Airbnb offers holiday flats, Uber taxi rides, TaskRabbit set-up help for the new Ikea furniture, Deliveroo provides lunch, Helpling cleans the flat, Care.com provides childcare, and so on” (Altenried et al. 2021: 75).
This overview by Altenried et al. (2021) shows various ways in which digital platforms impact a variety of very different and sometimes intimate segments of daily life. Platforms are often perceived as making life easier, such as the increasing home delivery of groceries and goods or the use of ride-sharing services for getting around. However, the downsides associated with these developments have also increasingly come to the public’s attention in recent years. Reports and studies about precarious working conditions at Uber (Isaac 2014), Amazon (Ghosh 2018; Boewe et al. 2021), or Deliveroo (Altenried 2021a), as well as rising rents and gentrification processes in connection with Airbnb activities (Haar & Ainger 2018; Nieuwland & van Melik 2020), paint an ambivalent, almost grotesque picture of life in the platform era. These developments have also left their mark on academia. From a variety of different terms and research areas such as sharing economy (Frenken & Schor 2017), gig-economy (Woodcock & Graham 2020), platform capitalism (Srnicek 2017), or smart cities (Lee et al. 2020), a new research field, with a particular focus on urban life in the platform age, has emerged in recent years, the so-called platform urbanism (Rodgers & Moore 2018; Barns 2020a). Platform urbanism is not only dealing with the economic power and impact of platforms in cities and their capacity to change material aspects of them (Sadowski 2020), but also with © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Fachmedien Wiesbaden GmbH, part of Springer Nature 2023 D. Weissenrieder, Exploring Platform Urbanism Using Counter-Mapping, BestMasters, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-658-40648-6_1
1
2
1
Introduction
the impact on the everyday life of its inhabitants (Barns 2020a; Leszczynski 2020). And as already shown in the introductory quote, the scope of platform urbanism is neither small nor narrow. Platform giants such as Airbnb in the tourism and housing sector, ridesharing platforms such as Uber which operate in the mobility sector, or the logistics and retail colossus Amazon are best known, but there are countless other also smaller examples. This large and diverse scope of the field already indicates why there are still so many unknown facets of platform urbanism. But that is not the only reason. Various platforms are also programmed to be as non-transparent as possible, as this is part of their operating as well as profit model (Scholz 2016; Fields et al. 2020). Furthermore, “many platform activities occur in private spheres (i.e. homes and companies) and in hybrid (digital and physical) spaces” (Webster & Zhang 2021: 3) which also complicates gaining insight into certain platform activities. Consequently, a recurring problem in the academic discussion of platform urbanism is the opacity of associated processes and effects. Although scholars are also trying to take a closer look at platform urbanism, many scholars find themselves confronted with an opaque black box, which leaves them dissatisfied (Scholz 2016; Caprotti & Liu 2020; Fields et al. 2020). To gain access to these hidden mechanisms and effects, the research group Fields et al. (2020), called in an article for the use of counter-mapping, an approach that can be located in the field of critical cartography. Critical cartography is understood as a sub-field of cartography, which evolved in the 1980s, challenging the until then in the academic discipline dominant assumption that maps are a reflection of reality (Glasze 2009). Instead, critical cartographers draw their insights from critical social theory, i.a. Foucault & Derrida; Frankfurt School (Crampton & Krygier 2006; Kitchin & Dodge 2007), and consider maps as never neutral and embedded in power (Harley 1989; Wood 1992). Consequently, maps are understood as effects of social structures, as well as producers of social realities (Glasze 2009). Together with new technological opportunities, these theoretical shifts also led to new critical mapping practices (Schranz 2021). Among them is counter-mapping (Peluso 1995), a form of participatory mapping with a distinctive focus on “mapping against dominant power structures” (Hodgson & Schroeder 2002: 79). Counter-mapping is attributed with different capabilities. Above all, the approach is credited with rendering invisibilities and hidden things visible plus enabling new perspectives (Alvarez León 2018; Bryan 2018; Fields et al. 2020). Best summed up by Alvarez León:
1
Introduction
3
“counter-mapping not only deals with spatial objects that are immediately visible; it can also help excavate them from places that are hidden from plain view, or re-enact them through different perspectives” (2018: 12)
For this purpose, counter-mapping employs various techniques and methods and is already applied in many different contexts (Dalton & Stallmann 2017)… …but not yet in the field of platform urbanism… This thesis takes up the call of Fields et al. (2020) and deals with the applicability of counter-mapping in the context of platform urbanism. This approach is a novelty, as there is currently no research project that explicitly combines counter-mapping with platform urbanism. In order to bridge this gap, an explorative approach is chosen to look at the applicability of already existing counter-mapping in the framework of platform urbanism. The research goal and question of this thesis are to first clarify whether countermapping is applicable to platform urbanism in general, and second, to identify starting points for future research. In doing so, the aforementioned link between counter-mapping and platform urbanism will be explored and work will be undertaken to close the research gap. In addition, the elaboration of further starting points will create the basis to gather further knowledge about platform urbanism in the future. The procedure of the thesis is as follows. In the next chapter, the thesis begins with a closer examination of the chosen method. This may appear early at this point, but it is advantageous because, apart from the theoretical contextualization, the work has two analytical parts that build on each other. The interaction of these parts must therefore be explained in advance and not in between. Afterward, in Chapter 3, the topic of platform urbanism is approached theoretically. Since the understanding of platforms varies greatly, various understandings will be discussed first. On this basis, three different research approaches are then chosen with which to approach platform urbanism from different perspectives. These are platform economics, smart cities, and to a minor extent infrastructural studies. They provide important inputs for platform urbanism and are helpful to situate this new research field in the academic landscape. After locating the platform urbanism, the actual research field is then characterized in detail. Based on this theoretical introduction, the current state of research on the topic of platform urbanism is used in Chapter 4 to define its scope and identify the most important urban areas in which platforms influence urban life. Subsequently, in Chapter 5, the thesis approaches critical cartography. The background of critical cartography is highlighted, which is fundamental for
4
1
Introduction
understanding critical cartographic practices such as counter-mapping, which is explained as the result of theoretical and technical shifts in the discipline. Different understandings of counter-mapping and related approaches, as well as critiques of the approach, are then presented to illustrate its possibilities and limitations. With this theoretical knowledge about critical cartography, the thesis proceeds to the exploration of counter-mapping and platform urbanism in Chapter 6. Based on the urban dimensions presented in Chapter 4, each will present countermappings that have already been carried out, as well as possible adaptations of these practices, which will then highlight possible starting points for future research. In addition, further starting points beyond the in Chapter 4 established categories are presented, as well as examples that transcend counter-mappings and maps per se, again to provide further starting points. In the conclusion at the end of the thesis (Chapter 7), the results are then briefly summarized, integrated into the state of research, and reflected upon, together with a brief outlook.
2
Method
This thesis deals with a novel approach to open up the black box platform of urbanism. Before explaining the approach of this thesis in more detail in this chapter, it is first necessary to explain why platforms are considered black boxes, as this metaphor rests on certain underlying assumptions. This lays the foundation for answering the question of why it is necessary and relevant to deal with this new opening mechanism at all.1
2.1
Starting Point: the Black Box
Among academics, there are different approaches to platforms. However, many scholars have one thing in common: they sometimes reach a point in their studies where certain facets of the research field are left in the dark. For instance, Scholz examines platforms from an economic standpoint and focuses on platform capitalism. Accordingly, platforms are considered very exclusive entities, which are shaped in a “top-down” manner and run by “black box algorithms”(2016: 26). This is shared by other scholars, like for example Caprotti & Liu,who describe platforms as black boxes because, they are “designed, proposed and authorised
1
It is also the reason why the starting point for this work is explained in a rather unusual way already at this point. The starting point can also be seen as the state of research, which is based on the state of research of the not yet explored linking potentials of the two research fields of counter-mapping and platform urbanism. Therefore, the starting point is initially presented to show the shortcomings of the linkage, which underlines the relevance of this work, before the two research states are elaborated in later chapters still in detail.
© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Fachmedien Wiesbaden GmbH, part of Springer Nature 2023 D. Weissenrieder, Exploring Platform Urbanism Using Counter-Mapping, BestMasters, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-658-40648-6_2
5
6
2
Method
by networks of elite techno-economic and policy actors” and “urban citizens effectively remain outside the ‘black box’” (2020: 11).2 The elitist creation and control character of platforms as well as their exclusivity can be derived from this understanding. However, it does not stop there. The question inevitably arises as to what is still in the dark. What processes and effects caused by platforms are also still unknown? This secrecy attracts the interest of scholars who are appealed in deciphering hidden processes and effects and therefore want to open the black box. The research group Fields et al. (2020) is thus no exception. They refer to the notion of Bucher (2016), who describes platforms as “black boxes: ‘secret, hidden, unknown’” (Bucher 2016 as cited in Fields et al. 2020: 463). They are also dissatisfied with the opaqueness of the black box which raises “concerns about transparency and accountability” (Fields et al. 2020: 463). Drawing from this initial point the research group pushes for further engagement with platform urbanism and highlights the importance of “bottom-up approaches” to address those issues and to be more precisely the need for methods “that seek to change the world through changing cartographic practice” (Fields et al. 2020: 464). Fields et al. (2020) are therefore proposing a specific approach of critical cartography—counter-mapping. The potential for a deeper engagement with platform urbanism stems from the perspective that counter-mapping enables: “Countermapping offers potentials for subversion and transgression of the workings of platform urbanism by situating digital platforms in the experiences of those who both help comprise platform urbanism and are its potentially unwilling subjects” (Fields et al. 2020: 465).
Accordingly, the change of perspective is the reason why counter-mapping offers a unique opportunity to study platform urbanism (Fields et al. 2020). Metaphorically speaking, this is to enable the black box to be opened by situating the research within the entity. This novel approach receives approval through, for example, Webster and Zhang who also emphasize the importance of precisely such “creative methods” 2
Case studies on platform urbanism are predominantly located in Northern America/Europe. The evaluation of Caprotti and Liu (2020) regarding black box aspects of platforms is interesting because while Scholz (2016) research cases are located in the US Caprotti & Liu (2020) focus, happens to be on Chinese smart cities. While their cases are in great distance from each other, their understanding of platforms as black boxes is almost identical.
2.2 Method: Opening-up
7
(Webster & Zhang 2021: 4). Understood as a call for action, this thesis takes up the direct appeal of Fields et al. (2020), who endorse the use of this approach for further exploration of platform urbanism. In the context of this thesis, this connection will be further explored in order to gain further insights into whether counter-mapping is suitable for a more detailed exploration of platform urbanism and what starting points it offers. The following sub-chapter deals with counter-mapping as a potential opening mechanism for this black box and explains how the suitability of this approach has been explored.
2.2
Method: Opening-up
The method of this thesis is not based on an academic template, which is why no theoretical explanations are to be expected in the following. Instead, the undertaken examination relies on a qualitative literature review that brings together the current state of research from two research areas: platform urbanism and counter-mapping. Besides the theoretical contextualization, the methodological approach of this thesis consists mainly of two steps. 1. First, based on the current state of research, a qualitative-inductive categorization of essential areas of impact of platforms on urban space (areas of platform urbanism) was conducted. 2. Second, these urban categories were then used as a grid for classifying counter-mapping cases that had already been carried out. Counter-mapping projects were then presented for each of the different urban areas, which, adapted to the framework of Platform urbanism, show potential for future application in terms of possible starting points for further counter-mapping projects. The first step was to identify the scope of platform urbanism and build categories. The most important areas of impact of the platforms in the urban space were thereby elaborated. To extract those key areas of influence of platforms on urban spaces this thesis relies on existing academic literature. The most influential works were identified based on pertinent articles and other publications.
8
2
Method
For this purpose, the academic citation database Google Scholar assisted. In addition, a snowball system was applied with the help of another academic citation database—Connected papers. Important and relevant papers thus led to other relevant sources, and so on. Based on this, a qualitative inductive categorisation was carried out based on the current state of research on this topic. This means that the relevant literature was examined for connections and context. When these connections and links were found and repeated in other literature, categories were formed and linked based on the existing literature. After identifying the most important categories of platform urbanism the second step was to connect it to counter-mapping. Already undertaken counter-mapping cases were searched for and classified into urban categories with the help of the previously established grid. As there were no counter-mapping projects specifically for platform urbanism, projects and practices were used that deal with similar effects or issues and that can be adapted to the platform urbanism context. For future application in the context of platform urbanism, possible modifications and ideas were developed to adapt the existing approaches to this new framework. This laid the foundation for possible starting points for further counter-mapping projects within the framework of platform urbanism. As a previously unanticipated additional result, counter-mapping cases were also identified in the course of this explorative approach that goes beyond the categories abstracted in this thesis and point to possible adaptations and consequently future starting points for an examination of platform urbanism. This approach is intended to contribute to opening, broadening, and expanding the potential field of application of counter-mapping for platform urbanism. It is therefore not to be understood as a strict analysis of already existing projects but is intended to take up their ideas and approaches to explore possible adaptations, point out starting points, and stimulate further scientific discussion of this topic.
2.3
Limitations
It is also important to address the limits of the approach of this thesis since it is limited in reach in four ways. First, depicting a complete overview of all possible effects of platforms on urban space is not possible, therefore the results will only represent an abstract overview of the most crucial effects and are interpreted heuristically.
2.3 Limitations
9
Second, due to limited resources (time as well as access), it is not possible to study all works on platform urbanism. In addition to reference figures from scientific websites (which also need to be critically questioned), a personal evaluation and pre-selection are necessary to choose between vast amounts of literature. Due to the pre-selection, the limited examination of all available sources, and the limited resources, bias may therefore occur. Third, the outlining and classification of the areas of platform urbanism is ambivalent. On the one hand, it leads to graspable and helpful categories that can assist in classifying and locating issues within the overall framework of the topic. On the other hand, the result has been abstracted and therefore subsumes certain areas. In addition, many areas are also strongly interwoven, which is why disentangling them when looking at individual examples makes sense, but otherwise abbreviates the complexity of the whole interrelated fabric. Fourth, providing ideas for possible adaptions and starting points for further counter-mapping projects is limited by the author’s imagination. An unlimited number of ideas for future counter-mapping projects in a variety of environments, places, and contexts are possible and can hold enormous potential but are difficult to predict. Therefore, the elaborated starting points for future research are to be understood only as impetus and not as fixed defaults. Before this thesis provides the starting points for the future use of the chosen approach, the theoretical foundation must first be laid to outline the research area of platform urbanism.
3
Approaching Platform Urbanism
In order to explore the complex topic of platform urbanism, it is important to first show how platforms1 are understood differently. This helps to show the diverse roles and tasks that platforms are assigned and carry out. An overview of the variety of platforms then helps to get an impression of how comprehensive the field of research is. With this in mind, then the topic of platform urbanism can be approached from three different research directions that provide important inputs. The first approach, platform economics, will give insights into how platforms operate and what drives them. The second approach, smart cities, explains the rise of platforms in the context of urban development and establishes the urban connection. As a third input, infrastructure studies then serve to rethink the roles and tasks of platforms in cities as new infrastructure. In a final step, a novel more comprehensive understanding of platform urbanism can be derived from these three fields.
3.1
Understandings of Platforms
Trying to clarify what platforms2 are in the first place proves to be a challenging endeavor. The definitory issue is already located in the center of competing perceptions (Lee et al. 2020: 117). Several different understandings are presented below. They all provide something from which this thesis will benefit. With all
1
Due to the digital nature of platforms digital platform is often used as a synonym. For the sake of simplicity and to save space, only platform is used in this thesis. 2 For a detailed etymology of the term platform see Bratton (2015) or Gillespie (2010). © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Fachmedien Wiesbaden GmbH, part of Springer Nature 2023 D. Weissenrieder, Exploring Platform Urbanism Using Counter-Mapping, BestMasters, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-658-40648-6_3
11
12
3
Approaching Platform Urbanism
these different perspectives to choose from, it’s helpful to start with a rather common understanding.
3.1.1
Platforms as Intermediaries
“What are platforms? At the most general level, platforms are digital infrastructures that enable two or more groups to interact. They therefore position themselves as intermediaries that bring together different users: customers, advertisers, service providers, producers, suppliers, and even physical objects” (Srnicek 2017: 43).
Based on this understanding, the most important task of a platform is to function as an intermediary for connecting different parties. But according to Srnicek (2017), this intermediation function does not come without the self-interest of the platform itself.
3.1.2
Platforms as Corporations
Srnicek is one in a line of scholars who move beyond the solely understanding of platforms as an intermediary and put the self-interest of the platform in the foreground of their research. The focus is on the business model of platforms and the tensions resulting from this (Lee et al. 2020: 118). This already shows that the idea of the independent intermediary function of the platform is changing. Previously unproductive elements and processes are capitalized by platforms to extract value (Sadowski 2020). Consequently, the exchanges are commercialized, or as Schwarz put it Platforms “facilitate complex multisided market exchanges” by means of “digital automation” (Schwarz 2017: 377). This capitalization3 of platforms results in a research field on its own— called platform capitalism (elaborated in Section 3.3). In this sense, Platforms are understood as: “a distinct mode of socio-technical intermediary and business arrangement that is incorporated into wider processes of capitalisation — at the centre of the critical analysis of digital economic circulation” (Langley & Leyshon 2017: 11).
3
Capitalization refers to the process of turning something into money, synonymous with the process of monetizing something.
3.1 Understandings of Platforms
13
The focus of analysis concerning platforms shifts to this capitalization. The understanding of platforms is summed up briefly by famous French social geographer Henri Lefebvre, as a “milieu of accumulation, of growth, of commodities, of money, of capital” (Lefebvre 1991 as cited in Sadowski 2020: 450). For followers of platform capitalism like Frenken & Fuenfschilling (2020), or Srnicek (2017), in order to analyze platforms and their consequences, platforms are equated with corporations. Frenken & Fuenfschilling (2020) even claim that this view of platforms as companies is rarely used in the field. However, this view is strongly contradicted by Richardson (2020), for example. Richardson disputes the approach of Frenken & Fuenfschilling (2020) and opposes an alleged predominant view in academia that platforms should be considered as single companies. With explicit reference to Srnicek (2017), the view on platforms as companies is criticized, which according to Richardson (2020) is based on an oversimplified derivation of behavior from the capitalist modus operandi.
3.1.3
Platforms as Spatial Arrangements
Richardson claims there is a risk of subsuming the understanding of platforms as a single, limited firm and presents an alternative understanding, which instead, points to the “urban manifestation of the platform” as the crucial feature of a platform (Richardson 2020: 459). Consequently, “rather than simply being an actor—a company—is a collection of differently networked actors operating in concert” (Richardson 2020: 459). Therefore, Richardson proposes a broader understanding of platforms: “the platform can be understood as flexible spatial arrangement whose action arises through coordinating networked entities acting with differing degrees of independence” (Richardson 2020: 459–460).
The manifestation of platforms happens through the urban environment, which means that platforms have an impact on cities in terms of a “reorganization of urban operations (such as transport, housing, and so on)” (Richardson 2020: 460). In this context Richardson (2020) has to admit that, in urban contexts platforms are predominantly commercial—i.e. companies.
14
3
Approaching Platform Urbanism
This evaluation is also shared by Lee et al. (2020: 122) who after analyzing approximately 100 platforms in smart cities conclude that those are mainly corporate.4 Independently from the focus of analysis on platforms, it can be stated that platforms have a not inconsiderable economic dimension. Nevertheless, the most important insight from Richardson (2020) for this thesis is the aspect of the urban manifestation of platforms, as in this understanding the focus moves away from mainly economic aspects and moves towards the connection to urban space. Besides the perspective with the economic focus and the understanding of platforms as spatial arrangements, this thesis builds on another perception by Lee et al. (2020) who offer fertile insight with a spatial reference.
3.1.4
Platforms in a Core and Periphery Model
This perspective is based on the computational understanding of platforms which is summed up by Lee et al. as: “an interoperable system comprising a set of stable core components or services, linked to an evolving set of peripheral or external components that have high variability” (Lee et al. 2020: 117)
Lee et al. (2020) connect this to the geographic understanding of the “core/periphery relationship” (Lee et al. 2020: 117) something they consider as crucial for understanding platforms (Lee et al. 2020: 118). The relationship between the platform as the core and the surrounding periphery is inherently asymmetrical. Platforms control access through the application programming interfaces (APIs) and are therefore acting as gatekeepers who control other involved parties (Lee et al. 2020). This means that platforms have the upper hand.
4
In light of this Richardson refers to Langley & Leyshon (2017) and their critic on the economic strive of platforms and their goal of generating value in particular in the form of network effects. The criticism of Richardson (2020) therefore remains inconsistent. It continues to be unclear why Richardson is so reluctant to the analysis of platforms as companies, only to endorse the capitalist foundations of platforms in the next breath.
3.1 Understandings of Platforms
3.1.5
15
Platforms as Gatekeepers
As a result of this asymmetry, the platform is no longer an independent middleman as it was stated above. Platforms are actively involved in the process and are, therefore, as Latour put it “not an intermediary carriage service without influence, but rather a mediator that actively shapes content and relationships linked to it” (Latour 2005 summed up by Lee et al. 2020: 118). Inevitable, this shows another vital feature of platforms the question of power. Scholars like Gillespie (2010), Kenney & Zysman (2020), and Lee et al. (2020), even though they have different understandings of platforms, agree on the claim that power is crucial for understanding the character and the operating mode of platforms. Textbox 3.1 Power and platforms
Power and platforms
Since power is considered a crucial element in understanding the motives, functioning, and character of platforms (Gillespie 2010; Kenney & Zysman 2020; Lee et al. 2020), it is vital to explain what exactly is inferred by the term. In this thesis, power is understood in terms of Castells (2011) network theory of power. Castells general context is the “network society”, which examines developments related to networked, digital information, and communication technologies (Castells 1996). In general, Castells understands power as followed: “Power is the relational capacity to impose an actor’s will over another actor’s will on the basis of the structural capacity of domination embedded in the institutions of society” (Castells 2011: 775).
Within network societies, power is exercised via networks. Given these social and technological conditions, Castells further distinguishes four different forms of power (Castells 2011: 773): 1. Networking Power: power of the actors within a network towards actors not included 2. Network Power: power arising from the norms/ standards generated by these networks
16
3
Approaching Platform Urbanism
3. Networked Power: power of actors in the network over other actors of the same network 4. Network-making Power: power to create specific networks according to their own interests as well as to switch networks and form strategic network alliances Examples of these forms of power can be observed in various ways on platforms. Networking power refers to the power that emanates in the networks, from the core (in our case the platform), over those that are not included in these global networks. In this context, Castells mentions in particular “gatekeeping strategies” (Castells 2011: 774) an approach which Lee et al. (2020) also observe in the tactics of platforms, as well as exclusion dynamics which for example are examined by Bauriedl & Strüver (2020) in the mobility sector. The network power refers to the norms and rules that are set in the network (Castells 2011) and in this case, is determined by the platform that dominates the network. The networked power is evident in the domination of platforms over other parties involved and the establishment of a dynamic that can be considered “asymmetrical” according to Lee et al. (2020: 117). The network-making power can also be observed in platforms, as platforms have the ability to establish and shape networks according to their own interests, often in correspondence with other platforms establishing what van Dijck et al. (2018) call “platform ecosystems”. In summary, Castells understanding of power is exemplified in many approaches to platforms and is therefore suitable for this thesis.
3.1.6
Synthesis
The previous chapters have shown that the perspectives and the analytical focus on platforms vary greatly. Instead of following a particular approach, this thesis attempts to summarize and synthesize the different views. Therefore, rather than developing an own definition, this thesis presumes the following features and characteristics of a platform. A Platform, • is not an independent intermediary, but rather an active gatekeeper, who exercises power over other actors involved, such as connected companies, customers, users, etc.,
3.2 The variety of Platforms
17
• is part of the capitalist system and therefore, even if it is not necessarily a company, it must adapt to the capitalist logic of the pursuit of profit, • steers (commercial) market exchanges, • is of digital nature, offers technological/automated solutions, • is manifested through spatial arrangement/urban environment, • forms the core of a network of other actors. The various characteristics of platforms indicate a complex area of research. Depending on the research objective and analytical focus, individual access points may serve as ways to approach the particular subject. In order to concentrate on individual examples, it is useful to first illuminate the variety and size of the research field to generally outline the scope and to become aware of the different segments in which platforms operate.
3.2
The variety of Platforms
An important aspect in the understanding of platforms is the great variety of different platforms. They differ in many different aspects, e.g., business model, target groups, general approach, business sector, etc. There are many approaches and ideas on how to categorize platforms. One of them is to sort them according to the sector they operate in (see Textbox 3.2) This is helpful because it already indicates the area of influence of these platforms. Textbox 3.2 Examples of platforms in various sectors
Examples of platforms in various sectors
Overview by Gawer & Srnicek (2021: 3–4) [emphasis added] • Ad-supported Internet search (Google, Baidu) • Social media (e.g., Facebook, WeChat, Twitter, Microsoft LinkedIn) – Ad-supported general social media: Facebook, WeChat – Ad-supported microblogging: Twitter – Ad-supported photo/video sharing: Instagram, Flickr, TikTok, YouTube
18
3
Approaching Platform Urbanism
• App stores (Apple App Store, Google Play, Amazon Appstore for Android) • Third-party business-to-businesses (B2Bs) (Alibaba) • Third-party business-to-consumer (B2Cs) (Amazon Marketplace, MercadoLibre Classifieds, Rakuten, Tmall) • Ad-supported music streaming (Deezer, Spotify) • Ad-supported print media (National Geographic, ParisMatch) • C2Cs (Consumer-to-consumer platforms) (MercadoLibre, Taobao) • Maps (Baidu Maps, Bing Maps, Google Maps) • Repositories for scholarly research (SSRN) • Labour freelancing/crowdsourcing (Freelancer, Amazon Mechanical Turk, Ikea/TaskRabbit, Upwork) • Crowdsourcing – Competitive (TopCoder) – Non-competitive (Google Waze) • Food delivery (Deliveroo, UberEats) • Language education (Duolingo) • Gaming (Amazon Twitch, Huya) • Fintech, including – Currency exchange platforms (CurrencyFair), crowdfunding (Indiegogo, Kickstarter) – Mobile payments (AliPay, PayPal, WeChat Pay) – Online brokers (Fidelity, RobinHood, SaxoBank) • Transportation – On-demand ride services (Uber, Lyft, Kapten) – Long-distance car-pooling (BlablaCar) • Travel booking – Rental cars, air flights and hotels (Booking.com, Expedia, Opodo) – Cruises (Vacationstogo.com) – Short-term rentals (Airbnb, Atraveo, Homeaway) • Mobile payments (WeChat Pay, AliPay) • Dating (Meetic, Tinder, Grindr)
The sheer number of different platforms makes it difficult to categorize all platforms uniformly. Another issue is the connection and composition between many different platforms, which van Dijck et al. (2018) call “platform ecosystems”. All in all, these conditions lead to an intransparent, far-reaching
3.3 Platform Economics
19
interconnected field of study. Rather than analyzing and mapping a whole landscape of platforms, similar to what has been undertaken by Lee et al. (2020) in connection with smart city technology, this thesis pursues another approach. For the research process, the existence of a multiplicity of platforms is not denied as it is assumed that the ecosystem of platforms is a diverse and interconnected network. However, primarily the effects of the platforms are examined. Attributing the consequences and influences on the respective platforms and identifying possible connections goes beyond the scope of this paper but offers potential for further individual research. Having identified the core characteristics and the diversity of platforms, this thesis continues to approach the discipline of platform urbanism. Platform urbanism is a very interdisciplinary field with many connected disciplines. Barns names several disciplines within the realm of platform studies, originally a part of digital media studies, it nowadays includes “perspectives from internet studies, new media, infrastructure studies, digital political economy, surveillance studies, microeconomics and, increasingly, geography” (Barns 2019: 2).
For this thesis, three different theoretical approaches are used: platform economics, smart cities, and infrastructure studies. They all serve as important access points for understanding and approaching the core of platform urbanism from different sides. The first discipline analyses platforms from an economic point of view.
3.3
Platform Economics
In the aforementioned debate about the understanding and perspective towards platforms, it has already become apparent that economic motives are of decisive importance for the understanding of platforms. Without the economic motives of the platforms, it is impossible to understand how they are located in, manifest themselves in, and affect urban space. According to Barns (2020a) platform economics (or platform economy) is a part of microeconomics and evolved after the dot-com bubble in the early 2000s. The discourse within this research area is impacted by a tangle about terminology. Terms such as gig economy, sharing economy, platform economy, platform capitalism, etc., are circulating around the room. Therefore, it is necessary to clarify what we are talking about.
20
3
3.3.1
Approaching Platform Urbanism
The Gig-economy
The gig-economy5 focuses on a particular aspect of platforms: labor. The term gig, similar to colloquial language when used to talk about a music event, refers to short-term arrangements. Accordingly, these short-term arrangements are, by definition, mostly temporary but also volatile and particularly precarious, which latter is the crucial element (Woodcock & Graham 2020). Textbox 3.3 Precarious work Precarious work
Precarious work is often referred to in the context of gig-work. Precarious work is also a key feature of many areas of platform urbanism, so it is important to clarify it briefly. The understanding of the International Labour Organisation (International Labour Organization (ILO) 2012) is used for this purpose. The definitions of precarious work are often vague and complex, also due to different contexts, as well as the continuous formation of new forms of precarity, due to the eagerness of employers to constantly develop new ways to create precarious working conditions at the expense of their workers (International Labour Organization (ILO) 2012). When employers profit from precarious working conditions and take advantage of workers, this is also referred to as labor exploitation. In a general sense, the ILO considers precarious work as a “means for employers to shift risks and responsibilities on to workers” (International Labour Organization (ILO) 2012: 27). Consisting of “variable levels and degrees of objective (legal status)” as well as “subjective (feeling) characteristics of uncertainty and insecurity” (International Labour Organization (ILO) 2012: 27). As characteristics of this uncertainty and insecurity the ILO names, two categories of contractual agreements featured by four precarious working conditions (International Labour Organization (ILO) 2012: 29):
5
For comprehensive discussions about the nature of the gig-economy see Woodcock & Graham (2020) or Morgan & Nelligan (2018).
3.3 Platform Economics
21
“Contractual arrangements: i. The limited duration of the contract (fixed-term, short-term, temporary, seasonal, day-labour and casual labour) ii. The nature of the employment relationship (triangular and disguised employment relationships, bogus self-employment, subcontracting and agency contracts) Precarious conditions: i. Low wage ii. Poor protection from termination of employment iii. Lack of access to social protection and benefits usually associated with full-time standard employment iv. Lack of or limited access of workers to exercise their rights at work.” This compilation includes the categories that cover the majority of workers most affected by precarious work (International Labour Organization (ILO) 2012). Chapter 4 will demonstrate that many of these faces of precarious work can be found in platform/gig-work.
Correspondent to gig-work, the gig-economy describes the economic transformation of different sectors of the labour market where developments characterized by gig-work take place (Woodcock & Graham 2020). So, what is the role of the platforms in this sense? Through platforms the whole gig-work is organized and steered, or as Woodcock & Graham put it, the gig-economy “happens through, via, and on digital platforms” (2020: 9). According to Webster & Zhang (2021) a definition of gig-economy consists of two parts: first, “the use of digital technologies and platforms” and second “the reordering of labour relations” (Webster & Zhang 2021: 3). In this context, however, it should also be mentioned that the gig-work and gig-economy tend to have negative connotations. The gig-economy was coined by critics of the partly flatulent excesses of gig-work. According to Kenney & Zysman (2016) advocates of the benefits of platforms rather label it as creative economy or sharing economy and often use “socially progressive feel-good rhetoric to do so” (Frenken & Schor 2017: 3).
22
3.3.2
3
Approaching Platform Urbanism
The Sharing Economy
The sharing economy itself is also a contested term, with varying definitions and understandings6 . It incorporates a broad range of sectors, many of which can also be found within the framework of platform urbanism (Geissinger et al. 2020). While the gig-economy puts short-time work arrangements ‘gigs’ in the foreground, the sharing economy is all about sharing goods and services facilitated through platforms (Frenken & Schor 2017). The exchange, framed as sharing is the crucial element: “the term ‘sharing economy’ refers to a peer-to-peer (P2P) exchange of resources for use, mediated through a digital platform” (Artioli 2018: 2). Regardless and sometimes especially because of its self-proclaimed sharing nature and rhetoric, the sharing economy is heavily criticized. Belk (2014) for example distinguishes between true sharing and pseudo sharing and contemplates the sharing economy to be more of a focus on the latter. Instead of sharing Frenken & Schor (2017: 4) consider the term “renting” as often more appropriate for explaining the exchange of goods and services within the sharing economy, for example Airbnb. Compounding on this, Belk notes that within the sharing economy it is hard to distinguish “where sharing ends and commerce begins” (2014: 8). Kenney & Zysman are more definitive about this, stating that the term sharing economy is only an “attractive label” without genuine sharing processes but a monetization of human labor and consumer goods (2016: 62). Another critic is Sascha Lobo, a German journalist, and blogger who criticizes the term sharing economy as inadequate because it is “merely a euphemistically named aspect” of a greater and “new digital economic order: platform capitalism” (Lobo 2014). According to Olma (2014) and Langley & Leyshon (2017), this initial critique of the sharing economy gave rise to the neologism platform capitalism.
3.3.3
Platform Capitalism & Platform Economy
Platform capitalism is often used as a synonym for platform economy (Kenney & Zysman 2020). Kenney & Zysman (2016) advocate the term platform economy because it is more comprehensive than for example the description sharing economy and, moreover, it is also a more “neutral” description that involves “a growing number of digitally enabled activities in business, politics, and social interaction (Kenney & Zysman 2016: 62).” 6
For a detailed theoretical discussion about sharing economy see Schor (2014); Frenken and Schor (2017).
3.3 Platform Economics
23
The notion of platform economy may be more comprehensive and therefore suitable to describe the general evolving economic dimensions of platforms. Nevertheless, the concept of platform capitalism has its strengths by its opportunity to situate, explain and criticize the developments of the economic system through the capitalist system and the developments that descend from it. Within platform capitalism, platforms do not come out of anywhere. They are understood as the result of the capitalist economic order and especially the developments during some events of the last 50 years. Srnicek (2017) explains the rise of platforms through the history of various economic crises (global financial crisis 2008), booms, and bubbles (dot-com boom/bust 1990–2000). Accordingly, these crises and the conditions which led to them as well as the ways they were dealt with created the framework for the advent of today’s platforms. To explain the rise of platforms as part of bigger economic events and developments within capitalism and breaking with the notion, that platforms are disruptive agents out of nowhere as well as the rejection of technology-optimistic ideas, such as the sharing economy, is what Altenried (2021b) considers the most important contribution of Srnicek to the debate. However, another contribution by Srnicek (2017) is of almost even greater importance. In addition to the general economic environment in which platforms emerged, Srnicek (2017) deems one factor as crucial for the whole operating of platforms— data. Depending on it, platforms develop efficient mechanisms to “monopolise, extract, analyse, and use the increasingly large amounts of data that were being recorded” (Srnicek 2017: 42–43). According to Kenney & Zysman, this is due to the position of platforms as an intermediary that makes “data hubs and data aggregators” (2020: 58). The use of massive data resources (big data) coupled with the latest techniques of algorithmic analytics, machine and deep learning techniques and artificial intelligence (AI) enables platforms to go way beyond the pure extraction of data and offers new ways of business opportunities. According to Barns, these “data harvesting capabilities”, which produce “data capital” also determine the platforms’ future developments (in terms of acquisitions and services, etc.) (2020a: 15–16). Furthermore, they offer the possibility of being used as a kind of financial reserve for possible future events or in particular running out of venture capital (Altenried 2021b). In sum, data is considered a crucial element of platforms by supporters of platform capitalism. Barns (2020a) even goes as far as stating that data is the distinctive feature for platform capitalism (2020a: 113). Following this, platform capitalism and the use of data makes way for two other research areas: surveillance capitalism (Zuboff 2019) and informational
24
3
Approaching Platform Urbanism
capitalism (Fuchs 2010). Despite different terms and labels Sadowski (2019)7 finds that those areas share commonalities in their critiques related to the power of data. This chapter has shown that platform economics provides fruitful insight into platforms. Not only the rise and the drive behind platforms can be explained, but also current processes and procedures can be analyzed. However, it also became clear that the debate about the functioning of platforms and their potential and effects is very ambivalent. Critics on the one hand voice their concern about the working conditions of the gig-economy, while proponents hail the sharing economy for its supposed sustainability. Despite this debate, platform economics offers important inputs for platform urbanism. Working conditions, the importance of data, and the motivation behind certain processes as well as other important aspects are already touched upon here. However, platforms are not only analyzed from a purely economic perspective, many researchers approach platforms from the perspective of their main field of action—the city. Platforms also play an important role in urban research, especially in connection with smart city research.
3.4
Smart Cities
Smart city research differs from platform economics in many respects, but not in the turmoil and disputes over the definition of certain aspects of it. For orientation, an outline by Lee et al. (2020: 117) will serve as a rough description of what the smart city concept encompasses and is understood by various scholars. The smart city concept is concerned with: “how data technologies such as the Internet of Things […], Big Data analytics […], sensors […] and pervasive Wi-Fi […] create what Kitchin (2014) calls ‘the datafied city,’ an urban space that is progressively constituted by processes of data capture and analysis” (Lee et al. 2020: 117).
This rough overview already shows that the concept is not only broad but also difficult to grasp. The current state of the scientific literature agrees that there is no single, authoritative definition of the smart city (Albino et al. 2015; Engelbert 7
Sadowski (2019: 2) summarises three recurring views in contemporary literature regarding data in today’s capitalism: firstly, the value of the data as well as its own creation of value. Secondly, data collection has crucial influence on the operations of the collecting company or government, and thirdly, inequity and exploitation go hand in hand with data systems.
3.4 Smart Cities
25
2019; Lee et al. 2020). Engelbert (2019) claims there are two different academic approaches to dealing with this absence of a unified definition. First, there is one side that sees this absence as a problem, expressing the need to find a clear definition. Secondly, the side that considers the discourse on the absence and the diversity of smart city descriptions itself as part of critical smart city research. This thesis follows the latter side and agrees with Engelbert (2019) by stating that the understanding of smart cities can never be neutral. Therefore, in this thesis smart cities are conceives by means of the discourse about them, without committing to a definition. Accordingly, to elaborate on smart cities, one must look beyond definitions. The smart city as well as its perceptions is a constantly changing concept. The concept is not new, in fact, it is over 25 years old (Kitchin 2014; Albino et al. 2015; Robinson 2016). Three periods can be distinguished. In the mid-1990s it started as a way to define completely newly built cities in Australia and Malaysia. These cities had a so-called intelligent ICT (information and communications technology) infrastructure, designed to govern the functioning of the city in its entirety (Niebler et al. 2020). The second period began in 2008 after the global financial crash when private IT companies decided to invest in city services to emerge out of the global recession (McNeill 2015b; Niebler et al. 2020). IT heavyweights like IBM actively pushed campaigns on smart cities worldwide8 inter alia to expand further in the market for municipal services. Therefore, experts have been sent around the world to offer free consultancy services. And finally also as an aftermath of the global financial crisis, the increasing investment of financial capital in the digitalization of the city’s technological and informational infrastructures (McNeill 2015b; Niebler et al. 2020). In the context of this digitalization of the city infrastructures it shows that data is “viewed as essential constituent material to realising a smart city vision” (Kitchin 2014: 2–3). In the resulting “datafication”9 (Kitchin 2014) of the city, Niebler et al. (2020) point to the importance of economic aspects which are becoming once again valuable. This in turn leads back to Srnicek’s insights on the relationship between data, (smart) cities, and platforms (2017, 2019). Following this understanding, the rise of smart cities is understood by many scholars in 8
Although Niebler et al. (2020) identify smart cities as a global phenomenon, the authors see different patterns and concepts comparing the global north and the global south. 9 Datafication has different interpretations. In general it can be understood as “simply, the process of using technologies to record and archive information about socially relevant action” (Wagner 2021: 3). Nowadays this is evident in “how digital devices (e.g. smart phones) and platforms (e.g. Amazon, Facebook) capture and process ‘big data,’” (Wagner 2021: 3).
26
3
Approaching Platform Urbanism
the context of neoliberalism (Morozov & Bria 2018; Engelbert 2019), reinforced by the continuing “attract[ion of] capital […], intensified inter-urban competition and urban entrepreneurialism” (Harvey 1989: 92). Accordingly, this neoliberal context shapes the different understandings, expectations, and narratives of smart cities10 . That is why according to Engelbert (2019) smart city understandings can never be neutral, it is because they are embedded in the neoliberal political and economic interests of different actors and institutions. Thus, Engelbert sums up the results of different analyses and distinguishes between three different actors. First, big technology consultancy firms, start-ups, and other corporate actors stress “smart cities as technology-enabled progress” which can be achieved precisely with the help of these actors (Engelbert 2019: 44). Morozov & Bria (2018) and Kitchin (2014) share the evaluation of Engelbert (2019) and in particular stress that there is a whole industry behind the pushing of the smart city narrative or, how Söderström et al. (2014) call it, “corporate storytelling”. Second, city administrations, who highlight “the smart city as a celebration of urban creativity” which, coincidentally, also benefits the “municipal budgets” (Engelbert 2019: 44). As well as national and supra-national actors, especially the European Commission (Bauriedl & Strüver 2020), who push the idealizing narrative of smart cities as “avant-garde laboratories for social innovations and use urban spaces and residents in public-private projects whose outputs are ‘scaled up’ for competitive gain” (Engelbert 2019: 44).
Connecting thereto, in the discussed academic debate about smart cities it can be distinguished between two areas of research according to Follmann et al. (2021). The first research area focuses on technology-oriented aspects as well as on the transformation to sustainability (Barton & Manning 2017; Bibri 2018; Gassmann et al. 2019). The second research area deals with the deficits of the smart city (Barns 2020a; Follmann et al. 2021). They encompass discrepancies concerning sustainability (Trivellato 2017; Evans et al. 2019) as well as with questions of spatial production and the legitimation of the smart city with regard to the influence of the private sector (Söderström et al. 2014; McNeill 2015a; Shelton et al. 2015; Bauriedl & 10
Datta and Odendaal (2019) even go one step further and argue “the smart city is in itself a territorial colonisation of the digital age” which is “constructed through the geopolitical relations of colonialism, capitalism and globalisation, produced by the legacies of colonial instructions, their knowledge systems, norms, practices and discourses, and thus emerges as a new colony of capital accumulation” Datta and Odendaal (2019: 389–390).
3.4 Smart Cities
27
Strüver 2017; Engelbert 2019; Srnicek 2019); data, privacy, and surveillance issues (Morozov & Bria 2018; Srnicek 2019) and the participation and inclusion of citizens (Hill 2013; Stollmann et al. 2015; Pollio 2016; Kitchin 2018; Morozov & Bria 2018; Datta & Odendaal 2019; Marinelli & Parisi 2020). Especially the last question regarding the inclusiveness of participation is a crucial topic for critical scholars. Drawing from Lefebvre’s (1996) notion of the “right to the city”, and striving for Harvey’s (1973: 314) idea of “a genuinely humanizing urbanism”, Kitchin (2018: 2) raises the question if it is possible to “harness the power of smart technologies to create an emancipatory and empowering city”.11 Is it possible to “reframe, reimagine and remake the smart city so it really is ‘citizen-focused’, rather than predominately driven by profit and the needs of states?” (Kitchin 2018: 2). Kitchin directly predicts that it will not be simple, since it encompasses political, social, and cultural work and practice, as well as ideological and normative questions (2018: 10).12 In the light of the elaborated criticism, Barns (2020a) raises the question of why smart city ideas continue to be a focus for urban policymakers and decision-makers around the world. The answer to this question becomes even more important when looking at the critical literature on the results of smart cities. Shelton et al. (2015) for example, illustrate that many smart city projects fall short of their expectations and fail to develop as planned. Also, there are Rick Robinson and Dan Hill, both working in smart city programs and criticize the failures of smart city investments and initiatives (Hill 2013; Robinson 2016). But also, more recent literature shares this assessment. For example, Barns concludes “that despite some high-profile projects, relatively little has really been achieved” (2020a: 168). But why is the interest in smart cities unabated? This can also be explained by the self-interest and distinct expectations of policy and urban policymakers which was elaborated by Engelbert (2019) and Morozov & Bria (2018) as well as the active influence and “corporate storytelling” (Söderström et al. 2014) of big IT-companies like IBM (McNeill 2015b) and involvement of supranational actors (Bauriedl & Strüver 2020). At this point, it is important to stress the changing nature of cities. An analysis of approximately one hundred smart city projects and initiatives undertaken by Lee et al. (2020) has shown, that smart cities are characterized by great diversity 11
In this debate, in addition to Harvey (1973) and Lefebvre (1996) also Edward Soja’s (2010) insights on spatial justice are discussed, see for example Taylor and Hall (2013). 12 On concrete ideas on how to change smart cities towards more participation and inclusiveness see for example Morozov and Bria (2018).
28
3
Approaching Platform Urbanism
and strong transformation. Following this, Barns concludes: “cities are constantly being imagined, redrawn and rebuilt through rapidly evolving technologies of urban representation”(2020a: 69). This transformative process tends toward platforms and in particular platform urbanism, which will be discussed in Chapter 4. Before that, another field will be introduced from which platform urbanism can be approached.
3.5
Infrastructure Studies
Closely related to smart cities and also with a focus on the composition of the city is an approach by Plantin et al. (2018) who try to bring infrastructure studies and platform studies together. It was shown that since the 1970s a neoliberal trend of crumbling infrastructures due to deregulation and privatization led to the abandonment of the “modern infrastructural ideal” (Graham & Marvin 2001), the understanding since the mid-19th century that cities are “coherent units responsible for providing certain services to all citizens, for example, roads, sewers, emergency services, and public transportation” (Plantin et al. 2018: 300). This rise of neoliberalism, including the deregulation and privatization of the early internet infrastructure, set the stage for the rise of platforms. This context enabled digital technologies to establish themselves as alternatives to state or quasi-state monopoly infrastructures. As a result, private companies were able to expand into more and more infrastructure segments, taking over tasks formerly performed by the state and generating considerable wealth in the process. Plantin et al. call this the “platformization of infrastructures.” (Plantin et al. 2018: 306). Vice versa this also led to an “infrastructuralization of platforms” (Plantin et al. 2018: 306) since the platforms established themselves as “the modern-day equivalents of the railroad, telephone, and electric utility monopolies of the late 19th and the 20th centuries” (Plantin et al. 2018: 307). While combining infrastructure and platform studies this “theoretical bifocal” (Plantin et al. 2018: 306) places the development of platforms within a larger historical development of the transformation of infrastructures. This conception is supported by Rodgers & Moore (2018) who consider this understanding as a possible entry point to deal with the intersections between platforms and the urban: “This means thinking about the degree to which platforms are parasitic on different kinds of urban infrastructure, but it also means taking things one step further, and
3.6 Platform Urbanism
29
thinking about platforms per se as new forms of urban infrastructure” (Rodgers & Moore 2018).
These understandings also show the relevance and role ascribed to platforms in the urban realm. Together with the other theoretical inputs, this solidifies the understanding of platform urbanism that will now be explained in the following.
3.6
Platform Urbanism
The previously elaborated perspectives are in some way connected to platform urbanism. What exactly the disciplinary landscape looks like and where platform urbanism can be located is discussed in the next sub-chapter.
3.6.1
Locating Platform Urbanism Between the Disciplines
Altenried et al. (2021) state that a coherent theoretical framework of platform urbanism is yet to be made. Consequently, the field of research is still too young to be able to make a definitive disciplinary placement. To provide input to this debate, the understanding of platform urbanism on which this thesis is based will be contextualized between the related disciplines. Platform economics, as well as concepts such as the gig-economy and, in a broader sense, the sharing economy, can be understood as an inherited part of platform urbanism. Infrastructure studies offer several connecting points but can be considered a separate discipline. But the connection between smart cities and platform urbanism regarding the scientific and disciplinary placement of the concepts is less clear. In critical urban research, there have been extensive debates on the topics of smart cities and platform urbanism, with different differentiations between these terms (Bauriedl & Strüver 2020). There is no consensus on whether platform urbanism is part of a specific development within smart cities or smart urbanism (Stehlin et al. 2020; Bauriedl & Wiechers 2021) or a new concept that distances itself from it and develops an own understanding (Lee et al. 2020; Sadowski 2020; Söderström & Mermet 2020). A distinction between platform urbanism and smart urbanism13 is undertaken by Sadowski: 13
According to Verrest and Pfeffer (2019: 1329): “As an emerging academic field, smart urbanism examines how Smart City policies operate in contemporary cities”.
30
3
Approaching Platform Urbanism
“In short, smart urbanism is primarily about optimizing oversight of city systems through state procured, corporate provided ‘solutions,’ whereas platform urbanism aims to transform and/or take over the operations of city services that tend to be more market or consumer oriented. These two models don’t necessarily supersede or even compete with each other, but rather work simultaneously in different spaces” (Sadowski 2020: 449).
Furthermore, the character of platform urbanism according to Barns (2019) and Langley & Leyshon (2017) paraphrased by Sadowski is more directed as: “rapid scaling up via network effects and venture capital, and more antagonistic to government regulations and incumbent industries” (Sadowski 2020: 449).
Another differentiation is undertaken by Barns, who elaborates on this so-called “pivot14 towards a platform-ed urbanism” (Barns 2020a: 19). Accordingly, platform urbanism does not only display a shift “away from ‘sharing,’ denoted by the sharing economy” but also in distance from the “smart” narrative “as the predominant logic shaping digital urbanism” and more in the direction “towards the specific dynamics of platform economies” (Barns 2019: 3). This shift is also elaborated by Altenried et al. (2021) who claim that, although platforms play an important role in the development of the smart city, platform urbanism shifts the spotlight on the analysis of spatialization of platforms as well as following Srnicek (2017) the geographies of platform capitalism. Moreover, platform urbanism focuses not only on the platforms but also on the relationship between the platforms and everyday life. According to Bauriedl & Strüver (2020), this provides a strong empirical basis that is distinct from the narratives of neoliberal capitalism that surround the concept of the smart city. This thesis shares the assumption that platform urbanism is still closely related to the concept of the smart city, but with a changed and explicit focus on platforms and urban space and can and should therefore be considered a distinct concept. Nevertheless, this specific concept also benefits from the different insights of the related fields.
14
In academic literature, platform urbanism is sometimes referred to as platform pivot (Barns 2019, 2020a; Lee et al. 2020) in order to highlight the central and transformative nature of platforms. This thesis considers this description too generic and vague and therefore retains the term platform urbanism to emphasise the urban feature.
3.6 Platform Urbanism
3.6.2
31
Inputs From Related Fields
Important insights for platform urbanism can be derived from the previously elaborated research areas. The gig-economy is predominantly concerned with issues relating to the nature of employment as well as its conditions. But this gig-work does not take place in an empty space. According to Webster & Zhang (2021) and Bauriedl & Strüver (2020), the gig-economy is part of platform urbanism. Within cities, the gigeconomy rearranges labour as well as consumption relations (Webster & Zhang 2021: 3). Cities are predestined for gig-work. Platforms in general benefit from cities in terms of “the population density and spatial proximity of users/workers in cities” (Sadowski 2020: 450). This makes hiring, deploying, and replacing gigworkers fast and easy. Therefore, the gig-economy as part of what Bauriedl & Strüver call “urban platform economy” (2020: 270), is crucial to understand the changing labor processes in the context of platform urbanism. The sharing economy shows another important aspect: the dispute over the rhetorical framing of platforms. This “ideological pursuit” (Lee et al. 2020: 118) occurs usually between supporters and critics of platforms, but also involves the attempt by companies to push their own positive narrative about their platform (Schor 2014). This is closely related to the insights on platform economy. Of particular note is the work of Srnicek (2017) who explains platforms with the help of locating them in a bigger economic framework, and showing the economic, social, and political outcomes of that, instead of uncritically accepting the idea of the positive disruptive effects of platforms (Schor 2014). This location of the development of platforms in a wider economic development, in particular the post-crash landscape of 2008, as an emerging ground for platforms and consequently the beginning of platform urbanism, is also shared by Sadowski (2020). Sadowski considers the strategy of platforms in cities as the following: “surge into cities, spread like wildfire, subvert any regulation, supplant all competition, and secure their position as an aspiring monopoly” (2020: 450).
Data in the understanding of platform capitalism does not only play a crucial role for platform operations, it also affects their impact on cities and therefore also shapes platform urbanism (Söderström & Mermet 2020). Srnicek (2019) elaborates on the importance of cities:
32
3
Approaching Platform Urbanism
“Cities are being reimagined, quite literally, as an extension of the data extraction apparatus of the larger platforms” (2019).
Srnicek names three main reasons why platforms strive for access to the city. Besides “data extraction” and “geopolitical competition”, “it is the infrastructure of the city” that “offers major new opportunities for profit and power” (Srnicek 2019). This shows that platforms are not only useful to illustrate the economic drive and the approach of platforms but also the impact of platforms on the foundation of cities. Platforms adapted their design to capture urban data and accordingly determine how “urban data are produced, consumed, and monetized” in a broad field of tension in modern cities (Barns 2020b: 2). The concept of smart cities helps approaching platform urbanism from the perspective of urban development. It is therefore helpful in many ways. Especially various areas where smart cities are at the center of massive criticism (influence of the private sector, data, surveillance, inclusion, participation etc.) are all issues where similar developments can be observed within platform urbanism. Like the narratives around the sharing economy, the concept of the smart city is also vulnerable to the hijacking of the narrative by certain actors, especially from the private sector (Engelbert 2019). In relation to this, platform urbanism offers the possibility of a more neutral concept (Bauriedl & Strüver 2020) as well as shifting the focus primarily on platform activities. The reflections of Plantin et al. (2018) on infrastructures and platforms are also beneficial. It provides fruitful ideas about how platforms can overtake (material) infrastructures within cities as well as become infrastructures themselves, and thus is of relevance for platform urbanism. Furthermore, it also highlights the invisible character of platforms which, as social and technological forces, have a decisive influence on public action (Barns 2019). This goes not without tensions. Benvegnù et al. (2021), for example, elaborate different areas of conflict within this “platform battlefield”, which starts from the idea that urban space is the ground on which platforms function as infrastructures. Thus, it becomes clear that platform urbanism takes up various assumptions from related fields. However, it is worth explaining in more detail why cities are generally the most important place for platforms.
3.6 Platform Urbanism
3.6.3
33
Choosing Urban Space
According to Rodgers & Moore (2018)), there are “emergent, irreducible, co-generative dynamics between platforms and the urban”. Artioli considers platforms as “urban phenomenon” (2018: 2). Altenried et al. argue there are many reasons why cities have become “the primary field of action” for platforms (2021: 75). Indeed, platforms and urban space are intertwined. Also, because platforms benefit from different urban conditions. One reason is the increasing utilization of data, the so-called “data-fication” which is “the presumption that all meaningful flows and activity can be sensed and measured” (Mattern 2013). In this context, Kitchin (2014: 3) perceives a “data explosion” since the early 2000s. Kitchin considers cities as key production sites of data and stresses that this data “is being used to re-imagine and regulate the urban life” (Kitchin 2014: 3). But by whom is this data used? Following Kitchin’s assumptions about the datafied space, Bauriedl & Strüver highlight that it is especially platforms that “increasingly shape and intermediate urban life” (2020: 270). The impact of data is therefore not only limited to the influence of the operation of the platforms but also concerns the consequences for urban space and hence for platform urbanism. Rabari & Storper (2015) go one step further and suggest that platforms benefit not only from data but also from the entire digital infrastructure which can be found in cities. In addition to (big) data, they identify, for example, sensors in urban and domestic environments and mobile broadband communication technologies as elements of what they call the “digital skin” of cities. Moreover, many platforms depend on this digital skin, as it makes their functionality possible in the first place. For example, digital maps connected to smartphones (Artioli 2018) are the basis for platforms such as google maps or Uber. Besides increasing data flows Artioli names “population density, spatial proximity and socio-economic specialisation of urban agglomerations” (2018: 2) as factors how urban residents play a key role for platforms. Population density simplifies attraction, pooling, and coordination between different people (Rauch & Schleicher 2015) which often facilitates the operation of platforms. Proximity enables the circulation of innovations, new patterns of consumption and production, and changing lifestyles (Artioli 2018), thus the faster expansion of platforms. Besides those two aspects, Platform development strategies are adapted to the preferences and behaviors of city dwellers and consumers also due to socioeconomic reasons. Urban areas tend to have higher incomes and higher levels of
34
3
Approaching Platform Urbanism
education than rural areas. These two socio-demographic factors, among others, determine participation in platform activities (Andreotti et al. 2017). Within those city conditions, platforms can not only develop their “network effects” (Altenried et al. 2021: 88) but also benefit from the labor conditions (Artioli 2018; Sadowski 2020; Altenried et al. 2021). The population density and spatial proximity also lead to the availability of mobile, precarious, and flexibilised (gig-)labor (Sadowski 2020; Altenried et al. 2021). When looking for workers, Platforms can pick from, what Sadowski calls, the “pool of precarious ‘freelancers’ who are shuffled from gig to gig” (Sadowski 2020: 450). It is therefore not surprising that cities are prone to platform-related activities.
3.6.4
Defining Platform Urbanism
Using assumptions from related disciplines and reasons for the occurrence of platforms in urban spaces, an understanding of platform urbanism can now be derived. A distinction can be made between two different dimensions that constitute platform urbanism. The first dimension is of economical nature and comes from platform capitalism: “The neologism ‘platform urbanism’ has arisen within geography and urban studies as a way of, first, pointing to the changing relationship between technology, capital, and cities; and, second, naming a still evolving movement centered on the growing presence and power of digital platforms in cities” (Sadowski 2020: 449).
The second part is further illuminated by Barns, who writes: “platforms, too, govern our spaces—not only by ‘hacking’ existing regulatory conditions governing the spatial contexts in which populations live and work” (Barns 2020a: 56). Important for this perspective is that platform urbanism is not only the analysis of platform capitalism in urban space (Sadowski 2020). Essential to this perspective is the focus on everyday life and experiences (Barns 2019; Lee et al. 2020; Leszczynski 2020). In accordance with Kitchin’s datafied space (Kitchin 2014), data and platforms affect more and more aspects of urban life (Bauriedl & Strüver 2020). Information, goods, and services are exchanged via platforms that transform private and public life via data streams and algorithms (Bauriedl & Strüver 2020). This emphasizes again the importance of the utilization of data (datafication) for platform urbanism (Wagner 2021). For Barns, platform urbanism does not
3.6 Platform Urbanism
35
refer to one specific service of a platform, but rather the composition of different data-driven tactics, which more and more seek to transform urban life. Platform urbanism is based on this ensemble, which is spatialized “through the temporal, reproductive dynamics of urbanization” (Barns 2020a: 129). This “urbanisation of platforms” is understood by Barns as “the re-encoding or remediation of urban socio-spatial relationships into territories for platform intermediation” (Barns 2019: 7). Platform urbanism can be experienced in an everyday, habitual atmosphere composed of “environmental and relational connectivity”, (Barns 2020a: 130). Accordingly, it has the potential to change people’s “sense of space and knowledge of the urban” in various ways (Barns 2020a: 130). In other words, platforms are transforming existing forms of socio-spatial encounters with urban space and recalibrating the way citizens experience them (Barns 2019). But not only increasing aspects of daily life and experience being affected, also the socio-spatial conditions in cities are changing (Barns 2019; Lee et al. 2020). This “platformisation of everyday life” continues to increase (Bauriedl & Strüver 2020: 267) so that researchers already speak of a “platform society” (van Dijck et al. 2018). This is where the interactions between platforms, cities, and citizens come into play. Drawing from Barns (2019) and Lee et al. (2020), Bauriedl & Strüver sum this relationship up and describe platforms as “socio-technical ties between cities, companies and citizens, platforms are based on the relational dynamics between code, commerce and corporealities in technology-driven everyday life” (2020: 270).
As consequence, the consumption, perception and production of material urban space are changed. But not only because of platform economics (Bauriedl & Strüver 2020). The change is likewise carried out by citizens who, for example, help to shape urban environments from their smartphones while pursuing their daily activities (Barns 2019; Bauriedl & Strüver 2020). In this aspect, the transformative nature of urban environments comes into play again. Citizens feed platforms with information and data and in return platforms affect the production of urban knowledge and social relations and influence the choices and behavior patterns of citizens. Consequently, not only social interactions and daily experiences change but also the material urban environment, since platforms are pushing into new segments of accumulation for example in the housing or mobility sector (Artioli 2018). To recapitulate the two dimensions of platform urbanism it can be distinguished between two dimensions:
36
3
Approaching Platform Urbanism
1. Platform urbanism deals with the analysis of the impact of platforms in a material sense and to assess the relationships between technology, capital, and cities, as well as critically reflect the power of platforms (Sadowski 2020). 2. Furthermore it covers the impact and effect of platforms on everyday practices of citizens and therefore the socio-spatial transformations of the experiences and conditions of daily urban life (Barns 2019) and, in reverse, the resulting consequences for the material substance of the city15 . Given such a potential for change in many and far-reaching areas of urban life, it is therefore not surprising that the research field finds itself in a constant field of tension between citizens, cities, and the platform’s own interests. Expressions of this tension and general fields of action are presented in Chapter 4. However, this large field of activity of platform urbanism also offers the possibility to criticize the concept.
3.6.5
Criticism of Platform Urbanism
One point of criticism of platform urbanism is that there is not yet a coherent theoretical framework or consensus on assumptions and definitions, let alone a strong analytical framework (Leszczynski 2020; Altenried et al. 2021). However, this is also because it is a rather young field of research that combines different disciplines and research approaches. More precisely with their criticism are Webster & Zhang, who see the analysis of the platforms as a big challenge because “many platform activities occur in private spheres (i.e. homes and companies) and in hybrid (digital and physical) spaces” (Webster & Zhang 2021: 3). The question of accessibility is an important argument, as a large part of these activities remains hidden. This is a problem that has already been pointed out and was the driving force behind this work. Another concern is the diversity of different platforms, which are summarised under the umbrella term platform urbanism. Platform urbanism comprises a large number of different platforms. The function of these different platforms and their influence and impact on urban space are very different (Gillespie 2010; Altenried et al. 2021). This subsumption and homogenization of different applications and 15
Other scholars like Söderström and Mermet (2020) claim that platform urbanism has three distinct dimensions: “materiality, its impact on everyday life and its actual effects” Söderström and Mermet (2020: 2), the latter being the result of a combination of the first two dimensions. This paper disagrees with this categorization, as all three dimensions are inextricably linked and an isolated analysis could lead to a short-sighted analysis.
3.6 Platform Urbanism
37
companies under the term platform (and platform urbanism) leads to vagueness of the term and a loss of its analytical clarity (Altenried et al. 2021). However, Altenried et al. (2021) also defend the terms, as they provide a broader perspective that can be very helpful in understanding the far-reaching transformation processes, such as the resulting immense global power of companies like Amazon or Facebook. Another point of criticism states Leszczynski (2020) while suggesting to break with the general assumption of urban platforms as part of neoliberal capitalism and focusing instead on everyday practices. Leszczynski uses the concept of a “glitch” as a characterisation of platforms to explain that the concept simultaneously offers potential for “both error (malfunction, failure) and erratum (correction to a system)” (Leszczynski 2020: 191). Not only does this approach highlight the glitchy concept of platform urbanism, but it also provides a starting point for innovative and emancipative potentials of platforms (Leszczynski 2020). Another rather broad point of criticism is pointed out by Artioli (2018), who highlights the very controversial nature of the platform economy and related concepts. Accordingly, the discourse is influenced by extensive normative input from think tanks, consultants, intellectuals, and public regulators, as well as by platforms themselves. This criticism also touches platform urbanism. As the field is relatively young, it depends on insights from related approaches such as platform economy, sharing economy, gig-economy. And since these topics are often normatively charged this problem can also be transferred to platform urbanism. Despite these criticisms, platform urbanism proves to be a viable field of research, as the next chapter illustrates, where numerous dimensions and aspects can be identified.
4
Impact of platforms on urban space
Many scientists are not shy when asserting how far-reaching the influence of platforms is on cities and life in general. For example, Bauriedl & Strüver claim that platforms push forward into “all areas of urban life” (Bauriedl & Strüver 2020: 267). Altenried et al. state that “there is almost no area of work and life in which digital platforms do not play a role” (Altenried et al. 2021: 75). Also, Platforms touch different realms as they penetrate digital and hybrid spheres (Ash et al. 2018; Graham 2020; Benvegnù et al. 2021). In conclusion, the general scope of the impact of platforms on urban space is very broad This is also related to the different types of platforms, as illustrated in Section 3.2. In recent years, large platforms such as Airbnb, Uber, and Amazon have increasingly become the subject of academic research. However, the impacts of such prominent platforms are only the “tip of the iceberg”, as Artioli (2018: 2) puts it, and indicates that there is an even wider range of affected urban areas that fly under the radar. Accordingly uncovering all affected urban sectors seems to be a challenging endeavor. The essential ones will be presented in the next subchapters. Therefore, the connection between the effects of platforms on the one hand and the urban dimension of everyday practices, on the other hand, has to be examined in more detail. In this sense, it is useful to refer to Barns emphasis on the importance of the different analysis access points to examine how platforms shape cities. Accordingly, the analysis depends fundamentally on how the nature of the city is conceptualized. As examples of this distinct understanding of the city Barns considers “labour markets, housing conditions, transit environments or perhaps places to (no longer) get lost in” (Barns 2020a: 20). In summary, in portraying the different spheres of the impact of platforms on cities, the different
© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Fachmedien Wiesbaden GmbH, part of Springer Nature 2023 D. Weissenrieder, Exploring Platform Urbanism Using Counter-Mapping, BestMasters, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-658-40648-6_4
39
40
4
Impact of platforms on urban space
natures of the urban are also depicted. Thus, the spheres of the impact of platforms on cities also represent spheres of the urban. In this chapter, an overview of different areas is compiled and explained in more detail.1
4.1
Food and Consumption
Bicycle couriers wearing waistcoats with colorful labels of the associated platforms such as Deliveroo or Lieferando or UberEats have become an integral part of the cityscape. Pizza delivery services have been around for quite some time, so the question arises as to what is actually new about them. Platforms capitalize on technological advances and changing consumer habits, consequently, the food sector is in transition (Colpaart 2019). This is expressed in different ways. The food sector in cities has seen a rise in platform-enabled food delivery services in the past few years (Shapiro 2022). One expression of this development are so-called “ghost kitchens” also known as “cloud kitchens”, “shared kitchens”, “virtual kitchens” (Colpaart 2019), or “dark kitchens” (Altenried et al. 2021: 86). One definition of ghost kitchens comes from Ashley Colpaart (2019), currently CEO of The Food Corridor, a corporate player in this sector. Colpaart describes this new development as “commissary kitchens […] with the delivery-only food brands operating within them called virtual restaurants” (2019). Those “commercial food production facilities” can be imagined as large warehouses with numerous “mini-restaurants” next to each other, preparing the incoming orders of customers individually at the respective preparation tables (Colpaart 2019). Old depots or factory buildings are often used as locations, hence, those virtual kitchens benefit from large capacities, low rents, and costeffective operations (Altenried et al. 2021). The food production site which Shapiro describes as often “windowless, crowded, and hot” as well as “operated by low-wage line-cooks and delivery-runners” (2022: 3) who work in a “panic mode” (Loizos 2019) do not only show the precarious working conditions, but also that these commercial food production facilities have nothing more in common with traditional restaurants. One does not have to be a romantically inclined gastronomic critic to recognise this alienation from conventional evening 1
This overview does not claim to be exhaustive but is merely intended to provide an overview of the most important areas that are repeatedly discussed in the scientific literature. Particular attention will also be paid to areas that have received little attention to date and have therefore not yet been adequately addressed, i.e. which, figuratively speaking, are still in the dark.
4.1 Food and Consumption
41
restaurants. Nevertheless, cloud kitchens pushed by big platforms like Uber and Deliveroo (Altenried et al. 2021) are gaining more ground in cities, also in the light of the fact that meal delivery is the fastest growing sector in the restaurant industry (Shapiro 2022). Alongside the growing influence of bigger platforms, this development is also supported by a new generation of technology start-ups that have invested heavily in the food sector in cities around the world (Rossi 2019). Those trends have several impacts on urban space. The increase of platform mediated delivery services and ghost kitchens affect the material substance of the city since empty warehouses are reused as well as containers for erecting food production facilities called ghost-kitchens. This industrial food production also raises questions about working conditions and the impact on local restaurants (Altenried et al. 2021). Beside material changes on the fabric of substance of the city, like for example, restaurants make space for virtual restaurants (Altenried 2021a), it also affects other dimensions. The production and consumption of food can be considered a defining factor for urban space and its culture and sociality (Altenried et al. 2021). The loss of food culture is therefore also accompanied by a loss of urban culture and sociality. The impact of a growing delivery sector should therefore be critically assessed in terms of cultural aspects as well as social reproduction. But it does not end here. After production, delivery drivers swarm through the city and bring the food to people’s homes. This new crowd of cyclists and scooter riders in the uniforms of the associated delivery services is already a new feature of the urban landscape (Rossi 2019). It might already be described as a rather marginal change in the urban environment, but the whole development is part of a larger picture. Although this cannot be considered a new development, the growing food-delivery sector stands deputy for increasing delivery of more and more goods. The constant availability of food and goods on demand not only changes eating behaviour but also consumption (Altenried et al. 2021). As far as platform-based delivery is concerned, one player is essential to mention— Amazon. Besides being active in the food sector, after buying the US organic supermarket chain Whole Foods, the platform giant is also one of the major forces in e-commerce. This leads to the next area that platforms are fundamentally changing—logistics.
42
4
4.2
Impact of platforms on urban space
Logistics
Currently, Amazon plays a leading role in the logistics sector. Kenney & Zysman (2020) aptly trace Amazon’s development. Starting as an online bookseller Amazon soon evolved into a sales platform that offered a marketplace to thirdparty sellers and charged a commission for it. As this marketplace grew, so did the need for warehouse and distribution hubs. With the introduction of Amazon prime in 2005, and the accompanying free and more rapid delivery, logistics became even more important for Amazon. As a consequence Amazon established a complex worldwide distribution and logistics system (Kenney & Zysman 2020). Alimahomed-Wilson (2020) stresses that Amazon’s dominance in retail is based on its sophisticated logistic concept. For urban space that is most noticeable in big fulfillment centers2 , the central logistics and warehouse facilities of Amazon. However, it only becomes relevant for logistics when analyzed in connection with other parts of the supply chain. The fulfillment centers are supported by a dense network of sorting centers and delivery stations. This level is called the middle mile. But in particular, on the last mile, which is the “final step of the delivery process from a delivery station to the customer” (Boewe & Schulten 2021), Amazon logistics is competing with other players. For that purpose, Amazon uses a network of dependent subcontractors supported by a gig-workforce: Amazon Flex (Boewe & Schulten 2021). The Amazon logistics model is also reliant on the utilization of these gig-workers, who are no different from other gig-workers such as Uber (see the following sub-chapter on platform work) in terms of precarity, exploitation, and violation of labor rights (Boewe et al. 2021). In general, the working conditions on the last mile are poor. “Labour on the last mile is increasingly characterised by intense time pressure, standardisation, algorithmic management and digitally enabled surveillance on the one hand, and platform-driven precarisation and flexibilisation on the other” (Altenried 2019: 114).
Shapiro (2022) connects the struggle of different actors about the last mile to platform urbanism. In terms of logistics, two developments cannot be overlooked. First the already elaborated ghost kitchens and second, so-called dark stores in general. Dark stores are small local fulfillment centers. These are usually remodeled retail shops that are closed to customers and only handle e-commerce (Rudra 2
The Amazon fulfilment centres also became known for the inhumane working conditions that came to light recently, see for example Ghosh (2018): “Undercover author finds Amazon warehouse workers in UK ‘peed in bottles’ over fears of being punished for taking a break”.
4.2 Logistics
43
2020). Shapiro (2022) also emphasizes the impact of the Covid-19 pandemic that has propelled the development of those stores. On the one hand, because of the pandemic-related shutdowns of shops, but also due to the low barriers to setting up these dark stores. Only modest investment is required since new space is usually not necessary (Rudra 2020). The warehouse display of already existing retailers can be shifted to online platforms and the back-of-house area is optimized for picking, preparation, and execution of delivery orders (Shapiro 2022). That shows a development that coincidences with what Alimahomed-Wilson calls “Amazonification of logistics,” which accordingly is a “structural paradigm shift in global logistics and supply chain management” (2020: 69). This development is illustrated by the struggle and the emphasis on the last mile. The dark shops are part of this competition for the last mile, which is considered the “most important and most expensive points of supply chains” (Altenried 2019: 115). Dark shops can be located in residential areas. They do not necessarily have to erect new facilities in key areas, they are already among their customers. Thus, the biggest advantage of dark shops is their proximity to customers’ homes, as a result, they can save considerable costs (Shapiro 2022). Shapiro refers to ghost kitchens and dark shops as representatives of “a novel convergence in the urbanization of Amazon-style logistics and the platformization of urban space” in short “the logistical-urban frontier” (2022: 3). What does this new platform-logistic nexus mean for urban space? The increasing number of dark stores or ghost kitchens has severe social implications. The loss of accessible physical retail spaces and their shift to the digital sphere is not only changing consumption3 and mobility patterns, but also the character of the urban. Social exchanges no longer take place in accessible shops or restaurants. The places where people meet, and exchange socialize are being lost. Furthermore, there is also an economical dimension. The increasing platform mediated home deliveries, lead to changing consumer habits by guaranteeing quick and easy delivery of any product, regardless of proximity and availability at the local corner store. In short, it affects local retail. Whether in academia, in public, or in politics, the discourse about Amazon’s influence on (local) retailers is fiercely conducted, for years (Mandelbaum 2018; Marks 2019; Mitchell 2021). Further fuelling the debate is the Covid-19 pandemic, which led to the closure of some retail shops but gave Amazon a record profit (Shapiro 2022). Whether 3
Another rather niche area affected by platforms is fashion. Although the literature on this topic is scarce, it would be interesting to know the impact of second-hand platforms like Vinted on local (second-hand) clothes shops or on urban fashion in general.
44
4
Impact of platforms on urban space
Amazon means “the destruction of local retailing” as Kenney & Zysman (2020: 69) argue, this thesis cannot answer conclusively but agrees with them that spatial inequalities can arise in this context and the potential for significant changes to cities, in general, is there. Kenney & Zysman (2020) portray a dark picture with decreasing local employment, further erosion of the retail sector in the center of cities as well as the decrease of suburban shopping centers. The loss of the local retail trade then in turn affects the social and cultural life of urban space. Furthermore, this is deeply connected to another important aspect of urban life, which was mentioned in the context of Amazon– work.
4.3
Work
Work is an essential feature of platform capitalism (Langley & Leyshon 2017) and plays a crucial role in platform urbanism. Work determines the life of every city dweller, their income, their consumption, their mobility, and generally their living habits. If work changes, people’s lifestyles change and with them their interaction with urban space. Platforms have been heavily criticized for their supposed role in the deterioration of working conditions (Langley & Leyshon 2017). With a perspective on the US van Doorn for example points out that platforms or in particular gigeconomies “are historically constituted by class, racial, and gender inequalities” (van Doorn 2017: 900). Accordingly, “in the world of platform labor, inequality is a feature rather than a bug” (van Doorn 2017: 907). van Doorn (2017) describes that platform work is based on the capitalist value-form, and benefits from the gendered and racist subordination of low-wage workers, the unemployed, and the unemployable. As a mechanism to maintain and create these conditions, platforms use the immunity, control, and exchangeability of their workers (van Doorn 2017). Besides inequalities, the volatile and precarious nature of gig-work is put at the center of the criticism (Langley & Leyshon 2017; Woodcock & Graham 2020; Altenried 2021a). At this point, a remark of van Doorn (2017) is of particular importance. Accordingly, it is vital to distinguish here between the different types of platforms and their respective workforces, as the scholarship here has only just begun and there is still a need for further investigation into the multiple realities of platform work. Therefore, various examples are given in this sub-chapter to show the different working conditions within the framework of platform urbanism. The first example is the previously mentioned delivery gig-workforce of Amazon on the last mile. Alimahomed-Wilson (2020) highlights that the company has
4.3 Work
45
negatively impacted unions with both the Amazon Flex program and the Amazon Delivery Service Provider (DSP) program, even introducing “new levels of exploitation, contingency, racialization, and precarity for thousands of package delivery drivers” (2020: 69). A recent case study from Germany also shows systematic violations of labor rights, e.g. excessive working hours, lowering of the legal minimum wage, passing on of liability risks to workers, etc. (Boewe et al. 2021). Another prominent platform can also list such problematic working conditions—Uber. Uber operates as a middleman that takes its share of the fares from private drivers who offer their services to customers via the platform operated by an app. While licensed taxi companies must comply with far-reaching regulations, Uber does not fall under this categorization and can underpin both prices and safety standards (Langley & Leyshon 2017). This lack of quality assurance raises concerns about safety and the operating model raises concerns about tax evasion (Dotterud Leiren & Aarhaug 2016). As a consequence of these developments not only the livelihood of regular taxi drivers is at stake (Langley & Leyshon 2017; Barns 2020a) but also the drivers for Uber are suffering from the labor conditions. Isaac (2014: 16) also points out that these darker sides of Uber and other similar platform mobility services, contradict the image of flexible micro-entrepreneurship that is praised for creating jobs. Instead, weaker protection laws lead to a lack of protection and income security for workers. Flexible gig-work becomes precarious employment with dumping wages. The lack of workers’ rights enables cost-cutting and the exploitation of workers and allows Uber to make high profits (Isaac 2014). Another example is the working conditions of food delivery platforms. Altenried (2021a) shows the relationship between migration and the gig-economy with Deliveroo in Berlin4 and highlights how platforms are prone to exploit migrant labor. Deliveroo attracts migrants because of the ease of access. In addition to a fast and unbureaucratic application process with a minimum of formal requirements for qualifications, documents, or skills, the app also offers several languages to choose from. This accessibility, coupled with flexible working hours, provides migrants with an easy opportunity to work shortly after arrival in new countries (Altenried 2021a). In turn, migrants form a pool of precarious labor ready for use and exploitation by platforms. Due to the algorithmic organization of the applications, workers require little training but receive a high level 4
In 2019, Deliveroo withdrew from its German operations. However, the working conditions described can also be replicated in other countries and other delivery services and are therefore useful for this thesis.
46
4
Impact of platforms on urban space
of surveillance and control. Because of this algorithmic management workers are easily interchangeable which enables labor fluctuation. Furthermore, the kind of employment plays an important role. Since most workers are self-employed or independent contractors, platforms can cut down costs. Workers have to pay for their own means of production, such as bicycles, and only receive money for deliveries made, which leads to volatile wages. In addition, equipment, insurance, and other forms of social protection are slashed as much as possible (Altenried 2021a). In short, “the standard of employment is characterised more often than not by instability, precarity, and over-exploitation”(Altenried 2021a: 11).
These insights on Deliveroo from Altenried (2021a), together with insights on the illustrated working conditions of Uber as Isaac (2014) or Langley & Leyshon (2017) described it, reveal the image of several desolate platform work environments.5 In academia, the working conditions of Uber and Deliveroo are the subject of a lot of research. As a result, other platforms fall out of sight. For one reason, not all platform work is as apparent as the delivery drivers or rideshares in city centers. Some areas are more hidden. For example, the crowdsourcing platform TaskRabbit offers individual everyday tasks (Langley & Leyshon 2017), Altenried et al. name here e.g. assembly help for Ikea furniture (2021: 75). This work often happens in private places and is therefore not that obvious. Another example is Amazon Mechanical Turk (MTurk), one of the most popular crowdsourcing platforms. The platform facilitates small micro-tasks of different clients online. Such tasks vary greatly, for example, small translation tasks or the categorization of pictures and videos (Milland 2019). The nature of this work is characterized by Bergvall-Kåreborn & Howcroft: “The micro-tasks of ‘clickwork’ are tedious, repetitive and poorly paid, with remuneration often well below minimum wage” (2014: 213). More than 100,000 people are working for MTurk (Milland 2019), but due to the online-only nature of the work, it is barely visible. This gives little voice to concerns about inequalities, lack of social protection, or wages. BergvallKåreborn & Howcroft (2014) and Milland (2019) both chose the example of the widespread attention of Amazon fulfillment centers in contrast to the low interest in the fate of MTurk workers. In short, the fate of an Amazon worker in an 5
In addition to the platform-mediated work itself, the working conditions of workers employed directly by the platforms have been the subject of numerous reports of atrocious working conditions. For example, traumatised Facebook moderators (Newton 2019) or workplace inequalities between different contract workers at Google (Sainato 2021).
4.4 Mobility and Transportation
47
Amazon fulfillment center is more obvious, easier to grasp, and therefore closer to Western academics than that of an Indian MTurk worker doing micro-tasks for a pittance6 . The direct impact of this development on the urban space is difficult to determine. But it has an effect on the working world in particular in terms of “automation, robotization, and AI” especially since MTurk workers often train AI (Milland 2019). But the question of how much the increasing automation of work will change urban spaces cannot be accurately predicted in this thesis. However, the Covid-19 pandemic has already indicated that cities have the potential to change as more remote work is performed (Shapiro 2022). Invisibilities of certain platform areas are also critically reflected by Ticona & Mateescu (2018). According to them, while large platforms such as Uber, Airbnb, or Amazon receive the most attention from scholars, care work platforms, which have seen significant growth in recent years, are only marginally considered. This also leads to a “gendered bias” (Ticona & Mateescu 2018: 4384) in academia and public attention. Ticona & Mateescu (2018) claim that while male-dominated activities in the public space such as Uber are largely spotlighted, femaledominated platform work, especially care activities, receive little attention. Ecker et al. (2021) are hitting the same notch when illuminating the invisibility of platform care-work. They argue that the established structures of gendered and spatialized reproductive work are a central precondition for platform-mediated care work. Thus, the lack of visibility and socio-economic recognition of care work reinforces its inequality. Consequently, a challenge for the study of platform urbanism is to shed light not only on overt (male) platform work in public spaces, such as food delivery services but also on female-dominated platform work, such as care work, which is hidden in private spaces (Ecker et al. 2021). In summary, it can be stated that in the area of platform work, in particular, many areas are not sufficiently captured and analyzed. Another area of platform urbanism also deals with questions regarding equality- mobility.
4.4
Mobility and Transportation
“Physical mobility is a mundane aspect of daily life” (Taylor & Hall 2013: 65)…
…and platforms heavily impact this aspect of life. 6
Which also raises concerns about platform work in non-Western countries, which receives little attention in academia.
48
4
Impact of platforms on urban space
Platform urbanism is not only evident in colorful delivery drivers swarming through the cities, but also in all the other citizens who move through the urban space. Nowadays, this usually doesn’t happen haphazardly; supported by the smartphone, people like to be guided through the day by platforms. One example is Google Maps, which serves as a traffic and navigation manager, and is one example of a mobility platform (Riemens et al. 2021). Kenney & Zysman argue that Google Maps not only has an economic impact on a variety of sectors but is more importantly “transforming the lived experience of geographic space” (2020: 69). Simply put, Google Maps can influence people to choose a certain way to commute, where to buy new clothes, or, for example, highlight certain sights or places to give leisure recommendations. In general, the extensive influence of this platform is according to Kenney & Zysman (2020) still underestimated. Especially since maps have become indispensable in the smartphone era, for both users and service providers (Kenney & Zysman 2020). Due to the importance of the smartphone for the engagement of people and platform urbanism (Barns 2020a) Google Maps becomes even more relevant. Google Maps is, therefore, more than a navigation service, in the process, it alters the geography of urban space and how people experience it (Kenney & Zysman 2020; Altenried et al. 2021). Besides Google Maps, social media platforms such as Facebook or Instagram also have the potential to attract people to certain places. But this goes far beyond the boundaries of pure mobility (see Textbox 4). For prominent examples of mobility platforms, it is essential to look first at the general relevance and grievances of mobility in urban space. Mobility and transportation are considered a very important sector for the notion of smart mobility (Docherty et al. 2018) in the smart city context (Albino et al. 2015) as well as for the sharing economy, shown for example in ride services like Uber, Lyft or Bolt (Schor 2014; Geissinger et al. 2020). Mobility platforms, in the form of ride services often result from changing mobility needs due to the densification of cities or in response to the climate crisis (Riemens et al. 2021). Mobility is crucial for people in platform urbanism because according to Riemens et al. (2021: 2) it determines access to travel and thus enables the booking and planning of trips. But it is not limited to simplifying travel bookings it also influences commuter traffic and, in a much broader sense, the way people move through urban space.
4.4 Mobility and Transportation
49
Textbox 4.1 The impact of social media
The impact of social media
Social media platforms like Facebook or Instagram have the potential to steer people to specific places. This is most evident at selfie spots in particular locations where people pose for pictures to upload on social media. However, the impact of social media platforms on cities goes far beyond mere mobility. Taking the example of Instagram, local stores can use the platform for advertising to attract customers and can influence consumption habits. Facebook is more directly doing this via its online e-commerce marketplace called Facebook marketplace. Additionally, all kinds of different groups (sport, political, social, etc.) are organizing and mobilizing via Facebook affecting social behavior, interests, or hobbies, and consequently where people spend their time and money in the city. This is a good example of the “platform society” (van Dijck et al. 2018), in which large areas of private and public life are determined by platforms. In urban space, these developments do not go undetected. Matchar (2017) describes that Instagram is part of a bigger development and shows how public and private actors in cities are very aware of the (economic) potentials of platforms which is why public and private spaces are adapting and being designed to be attractive to social media users. Such as restaurants that rearrange their interiors so that they are more photogenic or offer better lighting conditions for good food photography. As a consequence this is changing the “visual landscapes—on the streets, in restaurants, in stores, in museums and more” a development what Matchar (2017) calls the “‘Instagramization’ of the world”. But it is not only restaurants that make their premises more photo-friendly (Matchar 2017), or other people advertise their business also decision-makers in cities are using Instagram for destination marketing to promote their cities, specific activities, etc. (Barns 2020a). In summary, social media is changing the way people move in urban space, how they interact with other people, how they socialize, how they shop and consume, and how they interact with different places, communicate, and share them.
The normative dispute about the interpretative sovereignty of the influence of platform, cities, and mobility is fiercely fought, like the smart city narratives. While mobility platforms, such as Uber themselves stress the sustainable potential
50
4
Impact of platforms on urban space
as well as accessibility and efficiency of their new mobility services (Pangbourne et al. 2018) there are also numerous areas of criticism7 . In addition to issues of labor, as in the case of Uber (Isaac 2014; Langley & Leyshon 2017), an increase instead of the promised reduction in traffic congestion (Erhardt et al. 2019), and the inclusivity of and the access to mobility platforms are being strongly questioned (Dotterud Leiren & Aarhaug 2016; Martens 2017; Pangbourne et al. 2018). This already indicated that accessibility is a key aspect: “Mobility platforms have the ability to change how and to what extent people have access to transport and travel” (Riemens et al. 2021: 2).
Especially since in our interconnected world and our “highly mobile society”, the degree of economic and social inclusion also depends on access to mobility (Riemens et al. 2021: 10). According to Martens (2012: 1039) the “potential mobility” which can be understood as access to mobility “refers to the ease with which a person can move through space”. For Martens (2017), this determines whether a person experiences injustice in terms of access to mobility. According to Riemens et al. (2021), different factors can affect accessibility. Firstly, the context: “spatial distribution of activities and transportation system” as well, and secondly, socio-economic and general person-related factors “income, gender, knowledge, place of residence, household composition, physical ability” (Riemens et al. 2021: 10). The mobility sector was already composed of many forms of exclusion twenty years ago (Church et al. 2000). But nowadays, platforms reinforce these inequalities. In particular, the interplay between social exclusion and mobility needs to be highlighted. The discussion about the term “transport poverty” (Lucas 2012: 106) comes into play here. It is part of an intensive debate in western transport and mobility research about the poor access to transport for socially marginalized groups (Groth 2019; Bauriedl & Wiechers 2021). Transport poverty results from a combination of social exclusion and transport disadvantages. This is also reflected in transport surveys, which show that the poor and vulnerable in society are usually disadvantaged in transport as well (Lucas 2012). Similar developments can be seen when dealing with mobility platforms and socially disadvantaged 7
For an overview of the different dimensions in which mobility platforms touch and sometimes affect public values, see Riemens et al. (2021). According to this framework, four theoretical dimensions can be identified: mobility service, well-being, climate impact and democratic control, as well as several sub-dimensions (Riemens et al. 2021).
4.4 Mobility and Transportation
51
groups. According to Bauriedl & Strüver (2020)), these social groups do often not belong to the focus group of mobility platforms and are therefore subject to exclusion. This is connected to further exclusion. It takes place based on the possibility of digital participation. According to Groth, social groups that face transport poverty are also facing a “digital divide” (Groth 2019: 25). The digital divide in general is experienced by socially marginalized people who, for example, also struggle with a lack of internet access (Groth 2019). In terms of mobility, this means a lack of participation in mobility services, due to no access to smartphones and mobility apps, etc. As a result of this combination the so-called “transport poor” face what Groth (2019: 25) calls a “multimodal divide”, the lack of digital opportunities for multimodal behavior in relation to connected mobility services. Bauriedl & Wiechers (2021) place these findings once again in the platform context. Accordingly, platforms have less interest in addressing this multimodal divide, since: “Platform-based mobility services are targeted at a technology- and digitisation-savvy, employed group of people” (Bauriedl & Wiechers 2021: 104).
Furthermore, because platforms require access to personal data for use of those services, people are excluded from using this service who refuse this access for political or technology-critical reasons (Bauriedl & Wiechers 2021). All these different levels of exclusion can build on each other. Bauriedl & Wiechers (2021) add another layer which they call “gendered multimodal divide” which deals with gender-based inequalities in the mobility sector. With the example of carsharing in European cities, Bauriedl & Strüver (2020) show different gender inequalities which are further enforced by platforms. A study of car sharing platforms in Europe (Alonso-Almeida 2019) and Germany (Giesel & Nobis 2016) show different gender gaps in the use of transportation. Giesel & Nobis (2016) for example showed in a 2016 study of the carsharing platforms DriveNow (free-floating) and Flinkster (station-based) in the cities Berlin and Munich, that almost 80% of users are male, academically educated, and fulltime employed. Based on these findings, Bauriedl & Strüver (2020), argue that due to this exclusive focus on a specific male target group, women are excluded, since labor areas which are generally considered women’s labor are not addressed. For example, these services are not suitable for commuting to caregiving jobs. Accordingly, Bauriedl & Strüver (2020: 273) claim that car sharing is contributing to what they call a “gendered platform mobility divide”- the reinforcement of inequality structures instead of the dismantling of gendered mobility patterns.
52
4
Impact of platforms on urban space
This is based on the assumption that urban mobility is gender-specific and thus produces socio-spatial inequalities. However, it also raises the important general question of whether platform mobility concepts have the potential to address all users or continue to favor already privileged groups and thereby reproduce urban inequalities (Bauriedl & Strüver 2020). This question becomes even more relevant when recalling the ideas of Plantin et al. regarding the “platformization of infrastructures.” and. the “infrastructuralization of platforms” (Plantin et al. 2018: 306). When platforms have changed the mobility sector to such an extent that they form a contemporary kind of mobility infrastructure, the question of inclusivity becomes increasingly important. Inclusion is also an issue when it comes to affordable and liveable housing in the platform era.
4.5
Accommodation and Housing
Platform urbanism penetrates wide areas of citizens’ life and does not even stop at people’s own homes. Quite the contrary. Accommodation and housing is a constant area of conflict in the urban space of the platform age. As elaborated before areas of platform work such as caregiving activities touch people’s homes (Ecker et al. 2021). But this area also incorporates aspects of for example tourism like in the case of Airbnb and related effects of these developments. Again the sharing economy comes into play which propagates that almost anything can be made available for peer-to-peer exchange—even such private areas as people’s homes (Artioli 2018). As a result, rooms, apartments, even whole houses are shared or to put it more clearly, rented out via short-time rental platforms like for example Airbnb (Frenken & Schor 2017). According to Artioli accommodation is an essential entry point for scholars who deal with the development of the urban, because it is among the sectors that provide “the most obvious urban implications” and consequently is rich of empirical studies (2018: 5). Some of these implications will be highlighted subsequently. Together with Uber, Airbnb is the flagship model of the sharing economy. But although it is hailed as a new authentic way of traveling (Nieuwland & van Melik 2020) critical urban researchers acknowledge the negative effects of this platform in terms of affordable and liveable housing.
4.5 Accommodation and Housing
53
Altenried et al. (2021) cite significant impacts of Airbnb on real estate markets, housing and rental practices, as well as gentrification processes. Although Airbnb has been the subject of numerous surveys, definitive conclusions about the ultimate impact of Airbnb on housing markets fail due to varying city contexts and conditions. Furthermore, Housing problems and in particular gentrification are also often linked to other pre-existing conditions and problems in the respective cities, as there are many factors at play here, e.g. inadequate housing market policies or other regulatory issues (Gant 2016; Oskam 2019). Nevertheless, many scholars claim that Airbnb affects housing markets in terms of housing prices and rents (Haar 2018; Haar & Ainger 2018; Garcia-López et al. 2020) and contributes at least to certain gentrification and displacement processes (Gant 2016; Wachsmuth & Weisler 2018; Nieuwland & van Melik 2020). According to Holm (2016), the influence of Airbnb in cities can be best described as a vicious circle. According to Nieuwland & van Melik (2020), it usually follows the same steps: It often starts with commercial investors discovering Airbnb as an investment. Then, a large-scale buy-out of residential properties takes place. As a next step, properties are withdrawn from the housing market and converted into permanent Airbnb accommodation for tourists. The availability of affordable housing is shrinking, and rents are rising. And as a result, residents can no longer afford the rent and are displaced from the neighborhood—direct displacement takes place. In addition, neighborhoods also become unaffordable for newcomers. Displacement through exclusion is happening (Nieuwland & van Melik 2020). However, the impact of Airbnb is not only seen in rising rents, but also the encroachment on the liveability and cultural character of cities. The quality of life of urban districts is generally vulnerable to increasing tourism. Nuisance, traffic problems, waste management concerns, and safety issues are linked to the increase in tourism and are also associated with Airbnb activities (Frenken & Schor 2017; Nieuwland & van Melik 2020). But while tourism-related issues to are not per se a new and unique feature of platform urbanism, platforms such as Airbnb are new in that they penetrate new segments. Renting out flats in less touristy parts of the city allows Airbnb to enter these formerly less frequented areas and thus influence residential areas without tourist infrastructure. Furthermore, Airbnb is able to further enhance already existing tourism effects in areas that are already frequented by tourists (Nieuwland & van Melik 2020). This can lead to “overtourism” (Oskam 2019; Such-Devesa et al. 2021) which contributes to what Oskam (2019: 19) calls the “depletion of a city’s immaterial resources”.
54
4
Impact of platforms on urban space
This is sometimes also accompanied by the so-called “disneyfication effect”, meaning that the huge increase in tourists enabled by short-term rental platforms such as Airbnb risks transforming parts of urban space, such as historical centers “from key places of local cultural and political life, into real consumption citadels” (Bernardi 2018). This decay of urban culture is particularly evident in Italian cities with famous historic centers (Bernardi 2018) or Airbnb hotspots such as Barcelona (Lambea Llop 2016; Garcia-López et al. 2020; Nieuwland & van Melik 2020). Those debates and findings regarding this far-reaching impact of platforms or Airbnb on cities show why accommodation is often used as an “entry-point for urban scholars” (Artioli 2018: 5). However, the housing and accommodation sector is exposed to more platforms than just Airbnb. Review platforms such as TripAdvisor or Yelp are also connected with gentrification issues (Zukin et al. 2017; Payne 2018). This shows that accommodation and housing are under strong pressure from platforms. The cultural loss of a neighborhood and the associated loss of life value as well as a potential existential displacement from the private living environment is an immensely far-reaching effect of platform urbanism and shows how platform urbanism is able to turn people’s center of life completely upside down.
4.6
Overview
To conclude with a summary of all the examples of the influence of platforms on urban space, Table 4.1 serves as an overview. In the following chapter, the approach will be presented that is intended to make it possible to illuminate these areas more closely.
Increasing home delivery Increasing number of ghost kitchens (potential) closure of local restaurants
Competition on the last mile Adaptation to the Amazon model of logistics Increasing home delivery Increasing number of dark stores (potential) closure of local stores
deteriorating working conditions Automation of work
Increasing number of platform-based means of transport such as ride-sharing changing mobility behaviors
Rising house prices and rising rents gentrification/ displacement processes cultural transformation of districts overtourism
Logistics
Work
Mobility and Transportation
Accommodation and Housing
Signs and indicators
Food and Consumption
Urban dimensions
Table 4.1 Areas of platform urbanism. (Own illustration)
Amazon Flex Amazon DSP Amazon MTurk Uber Deliveroo TaskRabbit Helpling Care.com Google Maps Instagram/ Facebook Uber Lyft Bolt Airbnb TripAdvisor Yelp
Amazon
Deliveroo Lieferando UberEats
Platform examples
Affordable housing Liveable housing cultural transformations of districts (Disneyfication)
Influencing navigation through urban space exclusive target groups of platforms Accessibility of mobility platforms Exclusion based on socio-economic status or gender
class, racial, and gender inequalities violations of labor rights exploitation of vulnerable groups Focus on male platform work Invisibility of the different labor sectors and types of workers
Competition between home delivery services and local shops/ retail sector in general Loss of urban culture and social life through the erosion of meeting spaces
Changing eating and consumption habits Reuse of old buildings (change of townscape) Competition with local restaurants Potential loss of local food culture/ urban culture in general and sociability
Affected areas/ conflict areas
4.6 Overview 55
5
Critical Cartography
Maps have been created for thousands of years1 . Ideas and philosophies about space have evolved, as has the way people have mapped the world2 (Kitchin et al. 2009). The process behind mapping, the creation of maps, is of particular importance. “Map-making and cartography have been central to the history of Geography” (Harvey 2001: 219).
As summarised by Harvey (2001), the creation of maps has always been and still is the most crucial instrument of geographers. However, as Crampton & Krygier (2006: 12) argue “mapping throughout its history has been continually contested”. This is also evident in the academic field of cartography, which is likewise in constant flux. The 1980s marked a major turning point in the discipline, the beginning of the end of the traditional approach towards cartography, which until then had 1
It is uncertain what is considered the earliest example of a map. Some alleged claims about the supposedly first prehistoric maps are questionable or cannot be proven (Wood 2014) For example, several specimens have been falsely identified as such (Meece 2006). Perhaps the earliest example of a map is the prehistoric map of an area around Pavlov in the Czech Republic from the period 24000–25000 BC (Wolodtschenko and Forner (2007), which shows the long history of creating maps. 2 The centuries-old history of maps and cartography will not be discussed in detail here due to its abundance. This thesis picks up the scholarly debate that began in the 1970/80s towards the notion of critical cartography, as this approach is the basis for contemporary (critical) cartography and mapping practices.
© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Fachmedien Wiesbaden GmbH, part of Springer Nature 2023 D. Weissenrieder, Exploring Platform Urbanism Using Counter-Mapping, BestMasters, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-658-40648-6_5
57
58
5
Critical Cartography
been the mainstream in the field. The so-called critical cartography emerged that threw overboard the standards, approaches, and norms that had prevailed until then and established a new approach to cartographic practice (Crampton & Krygier 2006; Kitchin & Dodge 2007; Glasze 2015). The academic discipline is still in flux. There are already calls for a so-called post-critical cartography (Kühne 2021), as will be elaborated on at the end of this chapter. In the following, the changing field of cartography and changing mapping traditions, which are based on theoretical and technological changes, are discussed. These developments led to the critical mapping practice of counter-mapping, which is presented at the end of this chapter. This theoretical approach thus forms the foundation for the later exploration of counter-mapping in connection with platform urbanism.
5.1
Theoretical Shifts
Until critical scholars began to challenge the mainstream approach, cartographers considered maps to be objective and neutral, quantifiable products of science (Kitchin & Dodge 2007). Cartography had to follow this perspective, aiming at creating maps that represent parts of the earth’s surface as true to the original as possible. The task of the cartographers was therefore to survey and display the corresponding features as accurately as possible. Academic cartography consequently mainly theorized about how spatial data could be represented even better and more accurately (Kitchin & Dodge 2007). Particularly influential after the second world war were the writings of Robinson, who sought to scientifically substantiate the design rules for maps—based on empirical findings on inter alia the perceptibility and legibility of fonts and colors (Robinson 1952). The understanding of maps as a reflection of reality is described by Glasze (2009: 182) as the first grand paradigm of cartography. Accordingly, the starting point of critical cartography3 is the overcoming of this paradigm of realistic representation. This understanding of cartography was increasingly challenged from the 1980s onwards. Critical cartographers, who draw from critical social theory, confronted the basic principles of cartography that had been valid until then (Crampton & Krygier 2006; Kitchin & Dodge 2007). Schranz considers these changes within the discipline as “conceptional shifts” (Schranz 2021: 24). 3
Critical cartography is the term used in this thesis to describe the critical debate and approach of the cartographic discipline, since Harley’s ground-breaking publication “deconstruction the map” (1989). The following discussion is limited to the social and cultural studies perspective on cartography and mapping.
5.1 Theoretical Shifts
5.1.1
59
J. Brian Harley
“the map is never neutral” (Harley 1989: 14)
Generally regarded as one of, if not the most influential scholar of critical cartography is British academic J. Brian Harley (Crampton & Krygier 2006; Kitchin & Dodge 2007; Glasze 2015; Kühne 2021). According to Glasze (2009), Harley contributed significantly to establishing the second paradigm of cartography which understands maps as effects of social structures, as well as the third paradigm which understands maps as producers of social realities. Harley emphasized that mapping and mapping processes are not neutral but are embedded with power (Harley 1989). Inspired by Foucault and Derrida (see Textbox 5.1), Harley applied a deconstructionist approach to challenge the epistemology of cartography. In doing so, Harley breaks with the notion of the value-free or neutral map being an accurate representation of reality. Instead, the seemingly neutral science of cartography is concealing power dynamics. To better understand maps, Harley suggests considering them as a cultural text. Accordingly, this allows a greater number of possible interpretations. And since all texts make use of certain rhetoric, all maps can be considered rhetorical texts and the creational process a rhetorical endeavor. Thus, the implicit rules of cartography can be inferred from the regularities in the maps. An example of this is the principle of ethnocentricity of maps (Harley 1989). map are “representations of power” (Harley 1989: 1)
Especially maps provided by the state or other authoritative bodies are prone to Harley’s criticism. It is in this sense that the power dynamics are most evident. Harley sees maps authorized by the state as a way to “reinforce the legal statutes, territorial imperatives, and values” which are “stemming from the exercise of political power” (Harley 1989: 12). Accordingly, this is external power, all power that is exercised “with the help of maps”, used by “monarchs, ministers, state institutions, the church” initiated for their own purposes (Harley 1989: 12). This top-down approach to map-making contributes to maintaining the status quo and favors monitoring and control—fostering the judicial system of power (Harley 1989). In addition to this external power, internal power is vital. It evolves in the cartographic process while creating the map emanating from the cartographer who produces this power while weaving it into the map text. In various ways, internal power can be exercised, for example, how maps are compiled, categories
60
5
Critical Cartography
selected, how they are generalized, how rules of abstraction and hierarchies are formed, etc. This is not necessarily done consciously. The categories between intended and unintended become blurred here (Harley 1989). This highlights the importance of the cultural backgrounds in which maps are produced. The production of maps is influenced by “values, such as those of ethnicity, politics, religion, or social class” (Harley 1989: 5) and is therefore far from being neutral or a product of science. This paves the way for an examination not only of the question of the representation of reality and maps but also of the process behind it. Textbox 5.1 Theoretical influences for the critique of critical cartography and critical GIS Theoretical influences for the critique of critical cartography and critical GIS
Important influences for Harley (1989) are Michel Foucault and Jacques Derrida. From Foucault, Harley deduced the ubiquity of power in all knowledge, even invisible or tacit, and applied this to the particular knowledge encoded in maps. From Derrida, Harley translated the rhetoricity of all texts to maps, as well as the deconstructionist approach to breaking the alleged link between reality and representation in maps. Two other not less important scholars Crampton & Krygier (2006; Crampton 2010), also draw their critique from Foucault but as well refer to the ideas of Kant and the Frankfurt School (namely Max Horkheimer, Theodor Adorno, Walter Benjamin, Herbert Marcuse, Jürgen Habermas). From Kant derive considerations to strive for knowledge and to question authority. From the Frankfurt School, the emancipatory philosophy towards power structures is deducted. And similar to Harley in embedding, Foucault is referred to concerning the power of knowledge as well as the emphasis on historical conditions (Crampton & Krygier 2006). It is important to point out that these different theoretical contributions do not necessarily all align with each other. Some even contradict each other, such as Kant or Foucault, about the essence of critique (Crampton & Krygier 2006). Critical cartography invokes these critical reflections but adapts and reinterprets them for its own critique of traditional cartography to develop its own core principles.
5.1 Theoretical Shifts
5.1.2
61
Pioneers of Critical Cartography
Although regarded as a key influential figure in critical cartography, Harley is by no means the only scholar to have addressed concerns of the discipline. On the contrary, cartography is a distinctly diverse and transdisciplinary field (Blomley 2006; Crampton & Krygier 2006), that has also produced many critical voices. And even though, it is widely recognized that the discipline started to shift toward critical cartography in the 1980s, the theoretical roots of this transformation have a much longer tradition, as Crampton & Krygier (2006) pointed out4 . This is not only apparent in the theoretical roots of the critique (see Textbox 5.1) but also in certain developments in the discipline. To give one example, German historian Arno Peters caused an uproar in the scientific community in the 1960s (Crampton 2010), when calling for maps to be interpreted as social products because they reflect and at the same time reproduce social (power) structures (Glasze 2009). Furthermore, Peters sharply criticized the common projections of world maps as well as eurocentrism and created a novel projection (Peters 1974). While Peters was initially strongly attacked by the academic community for this, Glasze (2009) concludes that the emerging debate ultimately led to a demonstration of the contingency and changeability of maps. This example is representative of other developments that show that the potential for reform in this area has been there for a long time. Driven by a new view of cartography based on social science thinking and criticism, various new approaches of critical cartography developed. What they all had in common was that they no longer sought to improve supposed representations of reality, but to explore how maps produce a reality just as much as they represent one (Crampton & Krygier 2006). Pickles for example illustrated this shift: “Instead of focusing on how we can map the subject, I want to focus on the ways in which mapping and the cartographic gaze have coded subjects and produced identities” (Pickles 2004: 12).
Crampton & Krygier (2006) summarize this understanding of Pickles by outlining the corresponding outcome. Accordingly, Mapping changes everything from space, geography, place, and territory to the identities of people within 4
The change in the field of cartography is also part of a larger historical development in the discipline, see e.g. Crampton and Krygier (2006). This paper is limited to elaborating the main theoretical aspects of the scientific debate and only briefly mentions the most important historical data, as the historical discussion is beyond the scope of this work.
62
5
Critical Cartography
these spaces. Maps are no longer passive, they are creating knowledge and as a consequence power which can lead to social change (Crampton & Krygier 2006). Another influential person in terms of power must not remain unmentioned— Denis Woods. Woods emphasized the “power of the map” (Wood 1992), early on, and illuminated the hidden interests behind it, thus providing a reason for how maps serve certain purposes and interests and can contribute to prevailing power structures5 (Glasze 2009). In general, the understanding of maps as instruments of power is not necessarily novel. The French Marxist geographer Yves Lacoste already noted in the 1970s: “the map, perhaps the central referent of geography, is and has been, fundamentally an instrument of power” (Lacoste 1973: 620).
Power is a crucial element for critical cartography (Wood 1992; Pickles 2004; Kitchin & Dodge 2007), critical cartography, however, pursues a power shift. According to Crampton & Krygier: “In the last few years cartography has been slipping from the control of the powerful elites that have exercised dominance over it for several hundred years” (2006: 12).
Critical cartography intends to accelerate this development. The goal is not only to show the hidden power interests but to extract the power from the hands of the traditional cartographers (Harley 1989) and technocratic experts, that possess and exert this power, and make it accessible to those who have been denied access by these very people (Kühne 2021). This “emancipatory claim” (Kühne 2021: 134) is key for critical cartography and what will be shown in Section 5.1.3, also for critical mapping techniques. However, it is questionable to what extent this emancipatory claim can be fulfilled (Kim 2015). More recent works are using insights from fields outside geography or cartography, such as components of science and technology studies (Glasze et al. 2021). Critical cartographers such as Kitchin et al. (2009) or Glasze (2009), like to refer to French sociologist Bruno Latour (1987), who has shown the extent to which cartography has played in the production of scientific knowledge and consequently of authority in European centers of power since the modern era. Latour outlines how the theoretical approaches of cartography and mapping techniques paved the way for international trade, territorial expansion, and colonialism. Only 5
Other approaches build on this theoretical foundation. One example of an ideology-critical approach that aims to uncover the ideologies behind the maps is the approach of Belina (2007).
5.1 Theoretical Shifts
63
one example of how elements of assemblage theory, as well as actor-network theory, are incorporated into critical cartographic research (Glasze 2009). As a relatively new development in (critical) cartography, Kühne (2021) and Schranz (2021) point to the increasing use and provision of cartographic data by companies such as Google or Facebook. From the cartographic discipline, this is traditionally viewed critically. This is of particular importance for the present thesis, as it already points to the growing interest and relevance of critical cartography towards platforms.
5.1.3
Principles of Critical Cartography
Building on a great variety of influences, a multifaceted field of critical cartography has been established, which is still in transformation. However, in order to show common features, this thesis makes use of an outline of critical cartography by Crampton (2010). For that purpose, Crampton draws a connection to another overview by Blomley (2006), who identified general principles of critical geography, which is briefly summarized by the former: “1. It is oppositional: it targets dominant forms of oppression or inequalities. 2. It is activist and practical: it wishes to change the world. 3. It is theoretic: it rejects positivist explanation and embraces critical social theory.” (Crampton 2010: 16)
Critical cartography as a sub-discipline of critical geography (Schranz 2021) builds on those principles. Drawing from that, Crampton (2010: 17) provides four principles of critical cartography, which are summarized here: 1. Maps are particularly useful tools to organize and produce knowledge about the world. However, unexamined assumptions behind these knowledge orders must always be critically questioned. 2. Challenging these orders of knowledge means placing them in a historical perspective (historicization of knowledge). Moreover, engaging with different historical approaches and reflection on one’s own and others’ knowledge to grow beyond one’s own limitations. Critical mapping also stresses varying ways in which maps and spatial knowledge are used, depending on culture and place (spatialization of knowledge). 3. Geographical knowledge is shaped by a whole spectrum of social, economic, and historical forces, i.e. knowledge exists only in connection with power.
64
5
Critical Cartography
This relationship between knowledge and power is what is meant by maps as political. 4. The presence of an activist, emancipatory orientation. For example, questioning the influence of official knowledge (e.g. government or state), or feminist approaches in the field of critical GIS, or community activism in the field of participatory GIS. These principles, especially the last one, which sets a more democratic and emancipatory cartography as its objective, hint at the moral principles that the critical cartography imposes on itself. The latter is one of the reasons why critical cartography, although it defines itself as critical, is not free of criticism. As a result a new development towards a post-critical cartography, which criticizes, among other things, an excessively moralized orientation, is emerging (Kühne 2021) (see Textbox 5.2). Textbox 5.2 From a critique of critical cartography to post-critical cartography
From a critique of critical cartography to post-critical cartography
The post-critical cartography according to Kühne (2021), can be understood as an approach to overcoming various criticisms of critical cartography. One key point of criticism is the allegedly abbreviated perspective of critical cartography on traditional experts, who are accordingly not only keeping certain worldviews intact but also enabling the power structures of rulers and consequently the status quo. In addition, the ideological pitfalls of critical cartography’s emancipation and democratization efforts as well as its categorical rejection of all contributions of positivist “traditional” cartography are critically questioned. As a response to these and other theoretical issues, Kühne (2021) presents post-critical cartography as a counter-proposal to the approach of critical cartography, which is perceived as overly moralizing and pathologizing. Drawing on Karl Popper’s notion of the open society and science, which advocates maintaining openness and a wide variety of theories, and Ralf Dahrendorf’s concept of life chances, the choices or options of individuals that depend on participation, the existing alternatives, and social contexts, Kühne outlines a post-critical cartography approach. The improvement of those life chances is used as the new normative focal point and thus attempts to continue to pursue the
5.1 Theoretical Shifts
65
core concerns of critical cartography without ideological constraints. In sum: “A post-critical cartography takes up the concerns of critical cartography, such as the socially manufactured nature of maps, viewing cartography as a process, the power immanence of cartographic practices as well as the empowerment of non-experts for cartographic activities, but without drawing moral demarcation lines between the representable and the non-representable, without a moral devaluation of perspectives not their own or their subordination to one’s own theoretical-worldview framework” (Kühne 2021: 136).
In this sense, Kühne (2021) wants to open up the discipline to new inputs outside the presumed critical dogma, which accordingly is too closely linked to neo-Marxist theoretical foundations. Also, the approach offers reconciliation with traditional cartography and tries to incorporate it into the concept of potential increasing life chances. Similarly, in terms of the separations between expert- and non-expert cartographers, the postcritical agrees on the difference but is primarily interested if it increases life chances. In general, Kühne (2021) outlines a very inclusive approach with the help of life chances, which not only wants to open up the critical cartography for other inputs but also tries to close old rifts and thus offers an attempt at reconciliation with traditional cartography. Regardless of the success of this attempt at mediation or the reception of the new approach, it can be seen that the discipline of (critical) cartography is still in motion.
However, it should be emphasized that advocates of critical cartography are not necessarily dogmatic or uncritical. Within critical cartography, constantly new approaches emerge that challenge assumptions and common practices to advance the development of the discipline. For example, Kim emphasizes greater reflection on the critical mapper’s own position and choices, as well as other possible ways to increase participation and democracy in new mapping practices to bring forward critical cartography (Kim 2015). This also shows that the progress of critical cartography is closely interwoven with new mapping techniques, which are based on technological changes which will be discussed in the following sub-chapter.
66
5
5.2
Critical Cartography
Critical Mapping Practices
Critical cartography is more than a theoretical paradigm change in the discipline, it is also accompanied by new mapping practices6 (Crampton & Krygier 2006). These two developments cannot be considered separately. Crampton & Krygier (2006) emphasize that the theoretical critique and conceptional change has enabled space for alternative mappings, making it accessible to practitioners outside the academic world. In particular, the artistic community participated in the development of new innovative cartographies7 (Crampton 2010; Wood 2014). One of the most important contributions was to address the question of how maps and mapping are political endeavors (Crampton & Krygier 2006; Wood 2014). But not only artists were welcomed as new participants in the cartography. In the spirit of abandoning the dominance of traditional cartographers, critical cartography aimed to make mapping technologies accessible to everyone. What was formally a strictly academic and regimented discipline was about to become a “people’s cartography” (Crampton & Krygier 2006: 18). Nowadays, anyone can map, not just cartographers. But how did it slip out of the hands of the powerful elites? How did they lose their “map sovereignty”? (Crampton 2010: 26). Besides conceptional shifts in the discipline of cartography, technological shifts are what Schranz (2021) considers to be crucial for changing cartographic practices. This change is also a central theme within critical studies (Perkins 2004).
5.2.1
Technological Shifts
The 1960s mark the beginning of Geographical Information Systems (GIS) (see Textbox 5.3). GIS can be understood as “a set of tools and technologies through which spatial data are encoded, analyzed, and communicated” (Thatcher et al. 2016: 817).
Other developments such as the advent of satellite remote sensing and georeferenced statistics have further facilitated broader access to spatial data (Glasze 2009). Further accelerating the increase of access and distribution of maps is the advent of the internet and broadband communication (Goodchild 2007).
6
Hereafter also referred to as critical mapping practices following Crampton and Krygier (2006). 7 For the influence and history of map art see for example Wood (2014).
5.2 Critical Mapping Practices
67
Textbox 5.3 Critical everything?
Critical everything?
In the 1990s, a heated debate broke out within the geographic discipline about neutrality, the positivist approach, and the social implications of GIS (Kitchin & Dodge 2007; Bittner & Michel 2018b), also referred to as “GIS wars” (Crampton 2010: 98). Harley’s criticism was adapted from scholars like Pickles or Goodchild (Pickles 1995) and applied to GIS (Kitchin & Dodge 2007). This theoretical debate as well as practices that use GIS critically, such as public participatory GIS (Glasze 2009), are also referred to as “critical GIS” (Crampton & Krygier 2006; Kitchin & Dodge 2007; Glasze 2009; Thatcher et al. 2016). Here it is necessary to emphasize how Crampton & Krygier, point out: “The terms critical GIS and critical cartography overlap but do not coincide” (2006: 16). Even though they originate from the same critical theory (Crampton & Krygier 2006; Kitchin & Dodge 2007),( see Textbox 5.1), Crampton & Krygier distinguish between critical GIS, which is mainly limited to GIS and its social implications of itself, and critical cartography which is “a broader term referring to maps, mapping and mapmaking more generally” (2006: 16). Depending on the understanding of this relationship, there are also different interpretations. This thesis follows Crampton & Krygier (2006: 16) and assumes that mapping is significant for both GIS and cartography. This is also because GIS is often used for critical mapping practices.
According to Glasze (2009), an even more fundamental change happened through web 2.0, the geo-web, which refers to virtual globes such as Google Earth, digital maps like Bing Maps, Google Maps, and OpenStreetMap. Leszczynski shares this view: “The geoweb represents a profound shift within regimes of the production, dissemination, and institutionalization of geographic information” (2012: 72).
Furthermore, Leszczynski (2012) highlights another important aspect, the rise of the geo-web originated from developments outside the academic discipline of geography. The aforementioned developments of internet and broadband communication laid the foundations for new web businesses and rising computing communities (Leszczynski 2012). With application programming interfaces
68
5
Critical Cartography
(APIs) and extensible markup language (XML), it became possible to connect different software and applications. In the geo-web context, this led to the so-called map hacks or mashups8 , the manipulation of digital maps, and online applications by non-professional cartographers (Crampton & Krygier 2006; Crampton 2010). This was one of the first examples of the simplified and ever-increasing participation of amateurs in cartographic processes. Now not only cartographic elites were able to work with maps but now it was also accessible and used by “peasants” (Crampton 2010: 25). Building on these developments, prosumers (fusion of producers and consumers in Web 2.0) entered the field (Glasze 2009). This is connected to a development, which Goodchild coined volunteered geographic information (VGI) (2007: 212). Best defined by Elwood who highlights the altered nature of spatial data production. VGI9 can be understood as: “digital spatial data that are produced not by individuals and institutions formally charged as data producers, but rather, are created by citizens” (Elwood 2008: 173).
The new tools and technologies that made the collection and processing of this data possible can be explained best with the example of OpenStreetMap. Like Wikipedia, OpenStreetMap relies on a crowd of volunteers, sometimes referred to as crowd-sourcing (a neologism based on crowd and outsourcing) which is helpfully defined by Leszczynski as “the practice of harnessing the ‘power of the crowd’ to create collective resources” (2012: 72). To create a free digital world map, a crowd of volunteers adds features to it or insert geo-referenced data. The latter was made possible by the fact that many new products had now access to the Global Positioning System (GPS), which allowed direct measurement of position on the Earth’s surface (Goodchild 2007). This had a huge impact since now everybody was able to accurately locate their own position. Furthermore,
8
“Map hacking is the practice of exploiting open-source mapping applications or combining one site’s functionality with another’s. These are known as “mashups.” A mashup is a website or web-based program that combines two or more sources of content into one tailor-made experience” (Crampton 2010: 27). 9 Elwood (2008) describes that the rise of VGI triggered another debate in cartography, similar to the Critical GIS debate in the 1990s (see Textbox 5.3). On the one hand, privacy and surveillance concerns but also the danger of producing new inequalities and exclusion forms were part of this debate. On the other hand, VGI was discussed as a possible way to a more active and democratic civic life (Elwood 2008). Since the 1990s, a broad field of participatory mapping has developed, combining feminist, activistic elements with VGI and GIS methods (Bittner & Michel 2018a) see for example Elwood (2008).
5.2 Critical Mapping Practices
69
it was now possible to geotag (add a geographic location to information) wide areas of online content (Goodchild 2007; Elwood 2008). Textbox 5.4 New era—new notions New era—new notions
According to Glasze (2015), the transformation of geodata and cartographic practices in the digital era is also accompanied by the use of new terms like for example neo-cartography, neo-geography but also VGI. Neo-cartography describes the changing nature of cartographic representation as well as social aspects e.g. the absence of a traditional cartographic background of neo-cartographers and the blurring of traditional boundaries between mapmakers and map users (Glasze 2015). This is a valid description of the new critical cartographers but according to Glasze (2015) not widely used. Occasionally used as a synonym, but broader and more widespread is the term neo-geography (Glasze 2015). After Turner (Turner 2006) introduced the term, it was subject to debate within the discipline (Wilson & Graham 2013; Leszczynski 2014). A rather broad understanding is provided by Wilson & Graham (2013). For them, neogeography encompasses almost all geographic practices that take place in the digital age, or as Glasze (2015) summarises it, it deals with digital geographies in general, which includes not only neo-cartography practices or VGI but also involuntary processes such as tracking of data or noncartographic analysis of geodata. Since, as Glasze (2015) points out, the terms often overlap and are partly ill-defined, they will not be used in the following. But it is worth mentioning that the advancing theoretical and technical changes within the discipline in the digital age have also been accompanied by new descriptions and attributions.
VGI as an early form of a participatory approach already indicates the new possibilities offered by the new technological environment. This new starting position paved the way for new ways of mapmaking, which Rekacewicz summarises as follows: “Technology’s recent evolution has challenged this exact aspect of the cartographic domain, as it is now possible to create maps, completely independent of the authorities and with minimal financial investments. While cartographic production was the
70
5
Critical Cartography
privilege of a small handful of over-powerful actors for centuries, today anyone can ‘make their own maps’” (Rekacewicz 2021: 212).
From this starting point, a rich field of participatory mapping practices has flourished.
5.3
Participatory Mapping
Participatory mapping10 can be understood as a result of the changing theoretical and technological conditions of cartography (Schranz 2021) (see Figure 5.1). Participatory mapping is rich in different approaches, from artistic approaches to simple sketches and projects including complex GIS applications (Bittner & Michel 2018a). This shows the connection to GIS since participatory mapping is often connected to or makes use of participatory GIS (PGIS) (Dunn 2007; Elwood 2008). Textbox 5.5 Participatory research
Participatory research
Participatory research, also known as Action Research or Participatory Action Research, is a multifaceted field of social science approaches that has been emerging since the 1940s (Bittner & Michel 2018a). Since there is neither a uniform theoretical background nor uniform methods employed, it is difficult to define its methodology and approach (Unger 2014; Schweizer et al. 2022). Despite that Unger provides an overview of common features [summarised and emphasized]: “1) participation of non-scientific actors as co-researchers in the research process; 2) strengthening of these partners through learning processes, competence development and individual and collective (self-)empowerment; and
10
Bittner and Michel (2018a) emphasize that participatory research in geography occurs in different forms and is based on different theoretical and conceptual backgrounds. It is therefore important to emphasize that this thesis refers to participatory mapping practices, which are based on the developments and theoretical background of critical cartography that has emerged since the 1980s.
5.4 Counter-mapping
71
3) the dual objective of researching and changing social reality and the associated intervention character and action/application orientation of research”(2014: 10).
According to Bittner & Michel (2018a), another focus of participatory research is on communities and their local identities, local knowledge, and local action. In this way, participatory research also breaks with the classical notion of scientific knowledge production (Bittner & Michel 2018a). The latter in particular also leads to criticism of, inter alia, the allegedly unscientific or de-professionalized approach, the question of whether the expectations of participation, democratization, and empowerment are not being met, or the exploitation, commercialization, and appropriation of local knowledge and labor (Bittner & Michel 2018a). Nonetheless, participatory research is recognized within the social sciences as a useful way to gain and create new insights and knowledge (Unger 2014).
Examples of participatory mapping range from the aforementioned map mashups to VGI in the sense of OpenStreetMap (Goodchild 2007), or the deployment in humanitarian aid and disaster response (Goodchild & Glennon 2010; Lang et al. 2020) but also practices that understand maps more as a form of opposition and resistance towards dominant power structures (Crampton & Krygier 2006). The latter practices can be described as counter-mapping and as shown in Figure 5.1, were made possible through the theoretical and technical shifts that have taken place in the rise of critical cartography. More precisely, counter-mapping can be classified as a distinct form of participatory mapping. The following chapter will explain why they play such a distinctive role.
5.4
Counter-mapping
“make the invisible visible”—a claim of counter-mapping (Bryan 2018: 263)
Counter-mapping is a changing concept, but with unique assumptions that sets it apart from other participatory approaches. In the following, the concept is first classified and delimited within critical cartography before the critique of the concept is elaborated and concepts that challenge the established boundaries are discussed.
72
5
Critical Cartography
Figure 5.1 Locating Counter-mapping. (Own illustration)
5.4.1
Understandings of Counter-mapping
Counter mapping is sometimes used as a synonym for participatory mapping (Bittner & Michel 2018a) or alternative mappings (Peluso 1995; Crampton & Krygier 2006). In this thesis, counter-mapping is recognized as a child of the theoretical ideas of critical cartography and critical GIS with a decisive emphasis on resistance and opposition to prevailing power structures, which characterizes it as a unique kind of participatory mapping (see Figure 5.1). Counter-mapping is therefore understood as “mapping against dominant power structures, to further seemingly progressive goals” (Hodgson & Schroeder 2002: 79) Consequently, maps become a form of resistance (Crampton & Krygier 2006; Cobarrubias & Pickles 2008; Maharawal & McElroy 2018; Barbosa Jr. & Burns 2021). Often embedded in activist settings counter-mapping aims to challenge or change existing structures. Bliss summed it up best: counter-mappings,”[are] by and for the people who want to see reform” (Bliss 2019).
5.4 Counter-mapping
73
Textbox 5.6 Counter-mapping as part of the activist toolbox
Counter-mapping as part of the activist toolbox
In activist settings, counter-mapping is rarely a stand-alone method. Best summarized by the Argentine mapping activist group Iconoclasistas: “We conceive “mapping” as a practice, an action of thought in which the map is only one of the tools promoting an approach and deep analysis of social, subjective, and geographic territories” (Risler 2016: 11).
Accordingly, mapping is understood as “part of a wider process” (Risler 2016: 11). Also because as an isolated method it “does not lead to transformations by itself” (Risler 2016: 11). That’s why Schweizer et al. (2022) describe counter-mapping as part of a toolbox of methods. Consequently, in activist settings, other elements and methods are used in combination with counter-mappings (Schweizer et al. 2022).
The term counter-mapping was already coined in 1995 by American sociologist Nancy Peluso (1995), who used it to describe a map-making process of indigenous peoples in Kalimantan, Indonesia, to map forest resources. This description of a grassroots-oriented mapping practice hints at the contrast to the long-standing top-down approach in the cartographic discipline. Harris & Hazen highlight this opposition best, when explaining countermapping as “any effort that fundamentally questions the assumptions or biases of cartographic conventions, that challenges predominant power effects of mapping, or that engages in mapping in ways that upset power relations” (2006: 115).
This is important because even though counter-mapping consists of a variety of cartographic ideas, can involve analog and digital practices (namely PGIS), and can also be conducted by diverse people in completely different environments and contexts, it can be pinned down on the common denominator of resistance to power relations and the realization of these practices outside of dominant and powerful institutions such as corporations and governments (Dalton & Stallmann 2017).
74
5
Critical Cartography
Nevertheless, Dalton & Stallmann (2017) underline that the emphasis on the counter element of this practice should not obscure that counter-mapping offers a multitude of innovative and creative ways to explore, open up and generate alternatives to the status quo. In this context, Hodgson & Schroeder (2002) note that the only thing more diverse than the different methods employed are the goals of these various counter-mapping efforts. As a result of varying objectives, methods, and cultural as well as political conditions, Dalton & Stallmann distinguish between three schools of thought on how counter-mapping is conceptualized: 1.) “counter-mapping as a straightforward tactic for confronting asymmetrical power relations, 2.) as a kind of linguistic proposition, 3.) and as an intentionally creative, practiced social formation” (2017: 96).
Thereby, the approach is constantly evolving. Peluso (1995) and Harris & Hazen (2006) have endorsed counter-mapping as a way of addressing power effects and injustices and for nature conservation, involving indigenous people in the mapping process. Asymmetric geographical power relations are challenged and attempts are made to achieve local political goals such as indigenous land claims and land conservation (Dalton & Stallmann 2017). However, the field of counter-mapping continued to develop from the initial “ethnocartography”11 (Chapin & Threlkeld 2001: 3). Dalton & Stallmann (2017), for example, consider the work of Wood (2010) as a refinement of this approach. Wood emphasizes cartographic rhetoric in map making and relates mapping and counter-mapping historically. Accordingly, counter-mapping is understood as a reaction to modern cartography, which is closely linked to the rise of modern state governments. But for Dalton & Stallmann (2017), this understanding misses an important point. It focuses exclusively on government power and considers counter-mapping solely as a reaction to it. But that no longer corresponds to today’s conditions. Nowadays, maps also support the neoliberal practices of corporations inter alia platforms like Google, GIS software giant ESRI or big data analytics companies like Palantir (Dalton & Stallmann 2017).
11
According to Chapin and Threlkeld (2001: 3), “ethnocartography” refers to practices in which indigenous peoples are the authors of maps, drawing on local knowledge of local areas. However, accordingly, professional cartographers are allowed to assist in the creation of these maps.
5.4 Counter-mapping
5.4.2
75
Challenging Cartographic Ties
Some approaches go even further and change their approach so that the end products, their illustrations, only remotely appear like ordinary maps. Cobarrubias & Pickles (2008) deal with several examples of that. Their examination of new cartographic practices within social movements can be considered either as an extension of the concept of counter-mapping or as a detachment from countermapping in the sense of decoupling the cartographic ties (Gerlach 2010; Dalton & Stallmann 2017). Regardless of this, these new practices challenge the need for cartographic constraints on counter-mappings. This is also based on another theoretical foundation: Cobarrubias & Pickles (2008), refer to the theoretical foundations of Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari (Deleuze & Guattari 1987). Accordingly, new social movements are benefiting from the theoretical shifts in the context of critical cartography. “If traditional cartography sought to represent the real, the new mapping practices seek instead to expose a new kind of real” (Cobarrubias & Pickles 2008: 40).
This alternative reality can be produced either by uncovering it, using mapping to make it visible, or even by creating completely different (sometimes utopian) spaces than those provided by the state or transnational actors (Cobarrubias & Pickles 2008). Those new mapping practices break away from the previous logic of tracing and the representative role of traditional cartography and explore new conceptions of space through mapping (Cobarrubias & Pickles 2008), following Deleuze & Guattari’s call of “make a map, not a tracing” (1987: 12). The difference here is: “What distinguishes the map from the tracing is that it is entirely oriented toward an experimentation in contact with the real. The map does not reproduce an unconscious closed in upon itself; it constructs the unconscious” (Deleuze & Guattari 1987: 12).
In this new approach, Dalton & Stallmann (2017) recognize the detachment of counter-mapping from the effort to depict merely a representation of current conditions. Instead, “The [new] purpose is to map in new ways, producing new worlds of social and material relationships. What alternatives, overlooked or ignored in top-down initiatives, could stakeholders discover and make real through mapping practice?” (Dalton & Stallmann 2017: 96).
76
5
Critical Cartography
This thesis follows Dalton & Stallmann, as it assumes that these new techniques can be considered an extension but part of counter-mapping. They exemplify that counter-mappings can transcendent merely map making, and are able to use “truly innovative practices that open new possibilities, relations, spaces, and subjects” (2017: 96). Alvarez understands this in a similar way and attributes to counter-mapping the “generative potential” which enables that the approach “transcends the realm of spatial products (and processes) narrowly defined as ‘maps’” (Alvarez León 2018: 12). As a result of this broadening of the approach, the process, the participants, and the focus change, too. New types of participants become involved in mapping projects. There are no longer only indigenous people who create maps together with researchers, as it was the case with Peluso (1995). Cobarrubias & Pickles, find a diverse range of participants in mapping projects including “unemployed, academics, flexible production producers, artists, designers, community and housing specialists, chain stores (retail) workers, intellectual workers” etc. (2008: 41).
This change is also observed by members of the Counter Cartographies Collective (3Cs) (2012) who emphasize that counter-mapping is also used by community members in the context of urban planning and development. Elements of PGIS are also being incorporated in this context. In this area, counter-mapping also has contact points with community mappings, see Textbox 5.7 (Lydon 2003; Elwood 2006; Gangarova & Unger 2020). Textbox 5.7 Community mapping
Community Mapping
The boundaries between community mapping and counter-mapping are very vague. Gangarova & Unger (2020) consider counter-mapping as well as PGIS as a specific type of community mapping following the understanding: “Community Mapping is a participatory process that visualises and analyses the experiences, characteristics, resources, problems, relationships and relations of communities in a group process” (Gangarova & Unger 2020: 152).
5.4 Counter-mapping
77
Given the community character of this mapping process, this categorization appears feasible, as (local) communities also play an important role in counter-mapping. Also, there are parallels to the historical development of counter-mapping as Lydon (2003) shows that community mapping was inspired by historical and modern indigenous community mappings. Perkins (2007), on the other hand, locates counter-mappings predominantly in contexts in the global South in the sense of ethnocartography and otherwise uses community mapping more as a synonym for participatory mappings in the global north. However, this thesis refrains from using community mapping, participatory mappings, and counter-mapping as synonyms. The decisive element here is again the confrontational character regarding power asymmetries that counter-mapping possesses but community mapping does not necessarily entail. Instead, community mapping and counter-mapping are both allocated as a type of the broader concept of participatory mapping.
This aligns with observations of Cobarrubias & Pickles (2008), who stress that the focus of the examined new mapping processes is changing. Not only traditional power hierarchies are questioned, but also “the global economy, new transnational identities, and a changing urbanism” (Cobarrubias & Pickles 2008: 42). This is also consistent with Bryan’s observation that counter-mapping is a means of “making visible the ways in which familiar forms of power and economy expand and intensify” (2018: 263).
This shows that many areas are prone to counter-mapping, not only the lifeworlds of indigenous peoples (Alvarez León 2018). Chapter 6 explores approaches on how counter-mapping can be adapted to the field of platform urbanism. Before this, however, the counter-mapping must be critically evaluated to set the framework for later application.
5.4.3
Criticism of Counter-mapping
In general, the critique of participatory approaches (Textbox 5.5) can also be partially tied to counter-mapping, including falling short of emancipatory and democratic objectives as well as concerns of exploitation, commercialization,
78
5
Critical Cartography
and appropriation of local knowledge and labor (Bittner & Michel 2018a). Nonetheless, countermapping also contains its very own critique points. A particularly sensitive and critical terrain is indigenous counter-mapping, whose history is rich in failures, dilemmas, or controversies (Hodgson & Schroeder 2002; Johnson et al. 2006; Bryan 2018; Sletto 2020). For example, the production and use of western techniques in such contexts are critically questioned (Hirt 2012; Sletto 2020), since even though western maps or GIS can be a source of political and economic empowerment, there is the danger of cultural and technical assimilation. A restructuring of colonial power relations can be the result, due to inter alia “misinterpreting Indigenous world views, knowledge and territorial conceptions”, which can lead to or at least add to “increased Western cultural hegemony and greater state control of indigenous lands” (Hirt 2012: 108). Moreover, Sletto (2020) has summarised further concerns, namely the support of imperialist and military ambitions and the facilitation of capitalist expansion in indigenous lands. According to Bryan (2018), counter-mapping also neglects to some extent historical and contextual realities e.g. colonialism or capitalism. However, criticism has also been voiced outside indigenous frameworks. One area of criticism concerns the distinction from familiar mapping practices. In some cases, it is not so easy to develop truly alternative mapping practices. For example, Elwood (2006) points out that in the context of GIS (counter-) mapping, mapping practices of the state, e.g. surveillance, have simply been reproduced. This indicates that a real oppositional dynamic, completely detached from familiar top-down approaches, is not so easy to develop12 . Moreover, there is always the danger of reinforcing or consolidating the status quo of power relations, which is in dire contrast to the aim of counter-mapping (Bauer 2009). Further problems particularly with the view on counter-mapping in the context of activist movements are summarized by the Counter Cartographies Collective (3Cs). Issues include i.e.: “conflicting priorities, how to practice community organization, integrating mapping into larger movements and the limitations of Cartesian mapping in representing local geographic knowledges” (Counter Cartographies Collective (3Cs) et al. 2012: 442). 12
This assessment underestimated the innovative potential which can be seen in a variety of all kinds of new counter-mapping practices, which have been developed since Elwood (2006) raised those concerns. Regardless of a reflexive repetition of habitual practices, there are new and innovative ideas, such as impulses emanating from artists, similar to those during the upheaval of critical cartography (Crampton 2010; Wood 2014) who hold the potential for the development of truly detached, new critical practices. For an overview see for example Cobarrubias and Pickles (2008).
5.5 Beyond Counter-mapping
79
This suggests that in an activist context, external factors related to activist aspirations and objectives can also affect the mapping process. Since platforms are often part of a larger activist or academic research process (Risler 2016; Schweizer et al. 2022), the linkage with other methods used in this context must also be critically examined to assess the scope and limitations of the counter-mapping practice employed. Together with the aforementioned criticisms of the role of science, a field of tension can be derived in the area of counter-mapping. Between the three a: academia, activism, and art, counter-mapping struggles to find its place (see Figure 5.2). As a result, there is an ongoing debate about the role of the different a’s for countermapping
Figure 5.2 Areas of tension of counter-mapping. (Own illustration)
Another point of criticism concerns one of the basic features of countermapping the assumption of an oppositional or resistant dynamic of countermapping. This is criticized as being too narrow to capture the multi-layered dimension of diverse phenomena (Elwood 2006; Gerlach 2010). For this reason, approaches have emerged that attempt to break out of this tightly knit theoretical corset.
5.5
Beyond Counter-mapping
As previously pointed out, counter-mapping is a dynamic field that is in constant flux. Nevertheless, there are developments where it is difficult to distinguish
80
5
Critical Cartography
whether they can be considered as contributions or new currents of countermapping or as separate approaches. Even if they are partly considered distinct concepts, it is still useful to discuss them at this point, because they also offer starting points for a deeper examination of platform urbanism, which will be shown in Chapter 6.
5.5.1
Vernacular Mapping
One example is the contribution of Gerlach, the so-called vernacular maps (2010, 2014), which developed from an explicit critique of counter-mapping. Gerlach contests the premise of a binary conflict between different actors in counter-mapping. Following this, the narrative especially in indigenous mappings is primarily understood as a “David and Goliath tale” (Gerlach 2010: 166). Accordingly, the asymmetry of power thus becomes too blatant, which is why Gerlach considers such representations as foreseeable as well as outdated. Furthermore, Gerlach argues that mapping is “a little more complex, a little messier, and a little more micro-political” (Gerlach 2010: 166). As a counter-draft, vernacular mappings are proposed. According to Gerlach, they are not limited to mere confrontation cases; they do not necessarily follow a resistance cause; they also do not prioritize the question of who counts as a counter-mapper or what counts as indigenous mapping. Moreover, vernacular mappings seek to contribute to our abstractions of the world, and in doing so they also make use of everyday mappings (Gerlach 2010). This understanding is summed up as followed. “Vernacular mappings are non-statist, extra-institutional, participatory, cartographic practices, either digital or analogue in their composition, in which such performances are not taken to be technologies of capture, but as techniques of addition; of adding more to the world through abstraction; of adding to the riskiness of cartographic politics by proliferating yet more renders of the world” (Gerlach 2014: 23).
With vernacular maps, Gerlach provides a very broad mapping concept or as Barbosa Jr. & Burns put it: “Vernacular maps expand the conceptual limits of what can be captured in cartographic products” (2021: 48). The general idea that the goal is primarily to add more and more is certainly beneficial for providing alternative interpretations of space. Nevertheless, with its departure from the contrarian character of the mapping process, vernacular maps also lose the congruence with counter-mappings.
5.5 Beyond Counter-mapping
5.5.2
81
Social Cartography
Another development is the so-called social cartography, which emerged from fierce criticism of counter-mapping experiences in indigenous contexts predominantly in Latin and South America and pursues an explicit demarcation from it (Bryan 2018; Sletto 2020). Social cartography criticizes the ontological understanding of countermapping, which allegedly aims “to transpose alternative ontologies onto dominant understandings of space through cartography in what amounts to a kind of unidirectional or monolingual translation that leaves hierarchies of knowledge and power intact” (Bryan 2018: 268).
Social cartography pursues to fundamentally change the claims regarding power and partly builds on the “ontological turn” (Bryan 2018: 268). That means some approaches break with “the dominant understanding of abstract space as a unified thing” (Bryan 2018: 268). Consequently, “the dominance of maps as means of understanding and seeing space (Bryan 2018: 268) are challenged. Bryan (2018) describes social cartography as an approach that goes beyond the notion of mapping as the sole practice of mapmaking. Social cartography explores new, different types of mapping which transcend the common media of depiction like for example body mappings (Risler 2016; Bryan 2018). The potential of this approach is summarized by Sletto: “This new phase is characterized by a much wider diversity of purposes and techniques, taking us beyond the view of participatory mapping as merely a tool to contest dominant state-endorsed and state-produced maps. These diverse mappings represent the radical edge of a new social cartography with significant lessons for marginalized communities across the globe” (2020: 1).
The examples of vernacular maps and social cartography show the very dynamic field of a range of participatory approaches in which counter-mapping unfolds. As a result, not only are the boundaries of counter-mapping constantly being tested, but cartographic ties are also increasingly being questioned, similar to what has already been shown in Section 5.4.2. In the next chapter, counter-mapping approaches will be examined to work out their application for the analysis of platform urbanism. In order to also show where the theoretical corset of counter-mapping might be too tightly knit and where alternative practices like the last two mentioned might also be useful, the next chapter will provide first insights.
6
Counter-mapping platform urbanism
In chapter 4, the urban domains of platform urbanism were outlined. This chapter provides examples of counter-mapping practices and possible adaptations that serve as starting points for analyzing platform urbanism in these areas. At the end of the chapter, some additional practices are presented that transcend these urban categories in different ways, but still offer further starting points for future studies on platform urbanism.
6.1
Food and Consumption
A changing food and consumption landscape in the context of platform urbanism does not offer as many entry points for counter-mapping as in other urban domains. One of the reasons for this is the difficulty of mapping individual eating and consumption habits and pinning it to platforms. It is easier to capture the outcomes or consequences of such behaviors. These include changes in the urban fabric, such as the establishment of ghost kitchens and the displacement of local restaurants or grocery shops. Various projects offer starting points here. One idea can be derived from the “Berliner Gartenkarte” (Berlin garden map) which was created by “a collective mapping initiative, formed by local students and researchers in collaboration with the urban agriculture community, that intends to visualize the gardens’ spatial distribution” (Orangotango n.y.a).
© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Fachmedien Wiesbaden GmbH, part of Springer Nature 2023 D. Weissenrieder, Exploring Platform Urbanism Using Counter-Mapping, BestMasters, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-658-40648-6_6
83
84
6
Counter-mapping Platform Urbanism
The Berliner Gartenkarte gives an overview of planned, current, and former urban gardening projects in Berlin. The projects are illustrated with apple symbols according to their status at the corresponding locations in Berlin (Dörr n.y.). This simple approach could also be used in platform urbanism. For example, to display and make visible where new ghost kitchens or delivery services have popped up or where formal local restaurants were once located. This simple approach could serve as a first step toward identifying where the urban fabric concerning food and consumption is changing in the wake of platform urbanism. Another approach, which focuses more on changes taking place in the neighborhoods could also be used. One example is a counter-mapping project conducted in Singapore. Organized in a Facebook group the “On a little street in Singapore” project was developed (Liew & Pang 2015). The procedure was rather simple. Liew & Pang describe it as followed: “‘On a little street in Singapore’ – features informal curatorial efforts by individuals to exhibit old photos of places and trades in Singapore, many of them no longer in existence. To a certain extent, the resurrection and showcasing of the maps and photographs of buildings posted speak about the politics of spatial and temporal erasure from the politics of development” (Liew & Pang 2015: 337).
Due to the combination of maps and photos, it was possible to identify areas that underwent redevelopment and changes in the past (Liew & Pang 2015). This also bears connecting points for platform urbanism. This approach could be used to map changes that take place within the framework of platform urbanism, such as the arrival of ghost kitchens and the departure of local restaurants or shops.
6.2
Logistics
The analysis of the logistic part of platform urbanism has a similar result. In terms of logistics, the “On a little street in Singapore” project (Liew & Pang 2015) or the Berliner Gartenkarte (Orangotango n.y.a) could also function as a blueprint to map dark stores, increasing home delivery and displacement of locals shops. In addition to changes in the area of consumption and food, changes in relation to housing can also be mapped. Since some dark stores are located in the middle of residential areas, there are various overlaps with the area of housing. The latter area offers many starting points for counter-mapping which
6.3 Work
85
will be elaborated on in detail in one of the next sections. However, since the main focus is on housing, only the cross-sectional potential will be emphasized at this point. Other interesting starting points are offered by the area of work.
6.3
Work
As elaborated in Section 4.3, platform work is often characterized by precarious working conditions (Langley & Leyshon 2017) often undertaken by vulnerable groups such as migrant workers (Altenried 2021a). Moss & Irving (2018) provide an idea for how such working conditions can be mapped: “Imaging Homelessness in a City of Care was a participatory mapping project undertaken with 30 single homeless people in Newcastle-upon-Tyne (UK) in 2014” (Moss & Irving 2018: 271).
Homeless people were asked to map their individual perceptions of the city. As a result, brief descriptions above locations on the map show the associations of homeless people with these spaces. The authors understand that as “a series of counter-readings of the use of city spaces and forms” (Moss & Irving 2018: 271). Furthermore, it uncovered several issues and challenges which are hardly imaginable for not-homeless people. Following the claim of counter-mapping “to make the invisible visible” and “producing a new, more accurate understanding of space through popular participation” (Bryan 2018: 263), this project helps uncover grievances and issues that are difficult for the uninvolved to grasp. Similar projects were undertaken together with drug users in different German and French neighborhoods (Germes & Klaus 2021); people in Mexican migration prisons (Manek & Ahedo 2022); or Mexican refugee routes (Campos-Delgado 2018). Those projects represent ways to map the perceptions and experiences of vulnerable or marginalized groups. Accordingly, workers in the delivery sector, ridesharing, or care could use such practices to create alternative mappings of urban space that include malpractices in working conditions. This could also help expose various invisibilities that gig- or platform work often entails, especially with regards to platform care work. Similar to the elaborated project, platform workers in precarious employments could enlighten the public about their experiences and perceptions of their work.
86
6
Counter-mapping Platform Urbanism
This would also make it possible, for example, for care workers who work in private environments and are thus even more invisible, to reveal to the public where platform work takes place in the first place and how those conditions are. Another example is one of the mapping projects of the Argentinian activist duo Iconoclasistas in a neighborhood in a suburb of Buenos Aires. Organized by academic scholars, community members and workers from the neighborhoods collectively mapped and portrayed the work and experiences of urban waste collectors, including different types of their daily challenges as well as developments in this part of the city (Iconoclasistas 2013). The potential for platform urbanism here also comes from rendering work visible, which was already mentioned in the previous example. A similar project within the framework of platform urbanism could also benefit from the inclusion of neighbors and workers, as was done by the project of Iconoclasistas. This combination would allow several and possibly also divergent perceptions of space to be mapped and possible conflicts and problem areas to be worked out. These two examples exemplify how counter-mapping practices can be used to expose platform work in urban contexts. Also, in terms of mobility, already applied counter-mapping practices offer leads for the analysis of platform urbanism.
6.4
Mobility
Maps play an important role in mobility. In the past, even more so than today, hardly anyone goes anywhere without Google Maps. Nevertheless, in the mobility sector, a large number of maps are traditionally still made available by authorities. Starting from city maps or maps of public transport which hang in train stations or sightseeing spots, and even web GIS such as the NYC Crime Map (City of New York (NYC) n.y.), aiming at increasing safety. In contrast to those top-down maps provided by authorities, there are also bottom-up attempts that pursue to develop alternate approaches. Those include a large number of different aspects of everyday movements. Beginning with artistic trackings of movement of people through cities, captured by GPS gadgets worn by people like the Amsterdam Realtime project (Waag Society & Polak n.y.), over tracings of popular running routes in big European and American Cities (Yau 2014).
6.4 Mobility
87
However, following the Deleuzian differentiation between tracings and maps (Deleuze & Guattari 1987: 12), those efforts barely count as counter-mappings and can at best be described as tracings. One problem with plain tracings can be elaborated with the help of the academic endeavor of Calabrese et al. (2013) who used mobile phone trace data to explore mobility patterns in the Boston Metropolitan Area. One of the results shows the “Individual mobility measured by average individual total trip length” (Calabrese et al. 2013: 309). Without wanting to deny the general usefulness of this approach in showing mobility patterns, such an approach does not take into account all social groups in urban areas in the same way. As elaborated in Section 6.4, marginalized social groups, the so-called “transport poor”, characterized by reduced participation in (connected) mobility services (Groth 2019: 25) are often overlooked. To incorporate those marginalized groups and to include them into maps, which also display their access and mobility patterns, those tracings need to be supplemented by alternative mappings. Since platform mobility is prone to social, gender, and racial exclusion as it was shown in Section 6.4, it is important to illustrate the unequal accessibility of different mobility choices. For overcoming the non-consideration of vulnerable groups a pilot study on the transportation practices of low-income populations in Newark, from Ramasubramanian (2015) could serve as an example. It was summarized by the author as followed. “The pilot project […] engaged low-income individuals in conversations and mapping exercises about their travel behavior and mobility barriers. (Ramasubramanian 2015: 30).”
With the help of community organizations, interviews and mapping practices were conducted. Furthermore, a web-based data collection tool was later added (Ramasubramanian 2015). Complemented by questions regarding the access, availability, and (financial) possibilities to use different platform services, the project of Ramasubramanian (2015) poses a valuable blueprint for engaging with mobility in the platform urbanism era1 . A completely different approach is provided by another project which focuses more on an emotional level.
1
It is debatable to what extent such a project can still be categorised as counter-mapping practice rather than as participatory mapping. This would depend on the final conceptualisation.
88
6
Counter-mapping Platform Urbanism
A recent collaborative emotional mapping2 framework was developed by Camara et al. (2021), “to collect and to represent people’s emotions, considering the urban mobility context of Curitiba, one of the largest cities in Brazil” (Camara et al. 2021: 4). The participants in this study had to follow a predefined route in the city. Different means of transport could be used for each route. Participants were asked to choose between a selection of emojis to express their feelings according to their experience on their route. In this way, the participants’ emotions were collected throughout the route and later digitized. The result is maps that depict emojis at different locations which the participants associate with the respective spaces. Furthermore, this allowed for conclusions to be drawn about the emotional experiences in the individual modes of transport, as well as feelings, during the routes (Camara et al. 2021). This has potential for application in the context of an examination of platform mobility, but it will require several adaptations. In general, this approach would need a freer conceptualization that includes a non-predefined pathway as well as a broader range of participants, as in this study all were university students, which is both predetermined and biased in terms of student mobility patterns. Nevertheless, an adapted approach for example on daily commuting routes could pose potential for analyzing the different experiences of varying mobility platforms. Such emotional mapping practices could provide indications about affordability, usefulness, eligibility (e.g. for commuting), availability, and overall experience. With additional background information on the collaborating persons, i.e. gender, social status, etc. this could provide insight into how different people experience—or may not experience due to lack of access—a range of mobility platforms.
6.5
Accommodation and Housing
Housing is an important field of action for platforms and therefore also constitutes a considerable area of conflict. With regard to counter-mapping, housing is the
2
The relationship between emotions and maps is multifaceted. Caquard & Griffin distinguish between three forms: “(1) the emotions that we place on maps; (2) the emotions that shape the mapping process and the map; and (3) the emotions people experience in response to maps” (2018: 5).The project of Camara et al. (2021) falls into the first category. For a detailed examination of the relationship between mapping and emotion please see, the introduction to the special issue on Maps & Emotions (Caquard & Griffin 2018), or, alternatively, a wellknown early contribution of Nold (2009).
6.5 Accommodation and Housing
89
field from which most ideas and approaches can be derived in the context of this work.3 In counter-mapping urban contexts, the Argentinian activist group Iconoclasistas is also very active (Iconoclasistas n.y; Risler 2016). Starting with organizing mapping projects regarding general neighborhood issues. Among them is the counter-mapping of the Montevideano neighborhood in Montevideo, Uruguay in 2019, which shows general problems of the neighborhood as well as organized transformation alternatives (Iconoclasistas 2019). A similar project was also undertaken in 2016 in Santa Fe, Argentina where also urban issues such as insufficient infrastructure, violence, or real estate speculation were shown as well as an overview of cultural and community proposals (Iconoclasistas 2016a). Another project of the group was developed together with other activists and focuses even more clearly on housing issues: the 2014 mapping of problems related to housing and daily life of the residents of the Chilean city Valparaíso, (Iconoclasistas 2014).The resulting map shows places in the city that are associated with different levels or elements of gentrification, poverty and oppression (Valparaíso et al. n.y.). Another project centered explicitly around the ongoing gentrification and real estate speculations as well as cultural and community proposals to counter these developments in Santa María la Ribera, 2016 a district in Mexico City. (Iconoclasistas 2016b). But also, in Europe counter-mapping is used to illustrate housing struggles. In 2009 counter-mapping practices were used by Iconoclasistas to draw attention to displacement processes, such as in Barceloneta, 2009, a neighborhood in Barcelona, Spain (Risler 2016). A related activist collective that identifies itself as a group of critical geographers is Orangotango (Orangotango n.y.c). Their approach is similar to Iconoclasistas, in fact, they even collaborate on several projects4 . One project 3
One reason for this could be the frequent application of counter-mapping in territorial disputes and land claims, which is a common issue in the context of indigenous mapping practices from early projects like for example Peluso (1995), until recent ones see for example Galeana (2022). The counter-mapping of housing and accommodation in the platform age could therefore be understood in part as a continuation of these practices in a new urban setting. 4 This connection highlights that in the field of activist counter-mapping or critical cartography in general an international connected community exists. This is shown in collaborative projects and publications, for example Halder et al. (2018) and in overviews of allied projects provided by the projects themselves, such as from the Anti-Eviction Mapping Project (AEMP) (n.y.a). Moreover, these projects are often accompanied by other activist activities such as murals etc. (Orangotango 2018), illustrating the embeddedness of countermapping practices within a broader activist framework.
90
6
Counter-mapping Platform Urbanism
involves a counter-mapping of gentrification, displacement, and resistance developments in Kreuzberg in 2013–2017, a district in Berlin, Germany (Orangotango 2018). In a more recent project, Orangotango addresses the housing problems due to the Covid 19 pandemic. It uses an online GIS to illustrate the struggles of citizens in different Brazilian cities (Orangotango n.y.b). Another interesting approach is provided by Antunes et al. (2020), who were looking into perceptions of gentrification of local citizens of Vallcarca, a district in Barcelona, which is a frequently chosen example of housing struggles. To illustrate these perceptions, mappings were incorporated into structured interviews with residents. Efforts were made to ensure that the voices were balanced by age and gender and housing tenure. As a result, several areas were mapped that are currently or generally considered to be affected by gentrification, as well as important locations where struggles against gentrification are taking place (Antunes et al. 2020). A considerable and often cited project regarding counter-mapping housing struggles is the Anti-Eviction Mapping Project (AEMP) (Anti-Eviction Mapping Project (AEMP) 2018; Maharawal & McElroy 2018). Since its founding in 2013 in Francisco (Anti-Eviction Mapping Project (AEMP) 2018) the initiative has, according to its own statement, published over 100 maps and visualizations (Maharawal & McElroy 2018) involving a broad range of different (digital) maps which incorporated eviction and displacement of cities in the US. Embedded in different activist (affordable housing) movements, the activists behind the project have used a range of different mapping tools focusing on a variety of topics with one of the latest being also COVID-19 housing issues (Anti-Eviction Mapping Project (AEMP) n.y.b). One considerable project, as it even connects developments, was the “Tech Bus Stop Eviction Map” in 2014 which used cartographic data to uncover that private shuttles of big tech companies contributed to increasing evictions between 2011 and 2014 within a close radius of private tech bus stops (Maharawal & McElroy 2018: 382–383). In summary, it can be stated that there is a large number of (counter-)mapping practices in the field of housing. But how are they of value for the analysis of platform urbanism? For the analysis of e.g. Airbnb, it would be helpful as a first step to locate Airbnb listings. Inspired by the approaches of Orangotango or Iconoclasistas, maps could be created that show, where Airbnb listings are located. Simple points could also be useful, as well as more complex approaches such as heat maps, clusters to locate Airbnb activities, etc.
6.6 …and Beyond
91
Another approach would be to map where Airbnb-related struggles and impacts have taken place, again following Orangotango or Iconoclasistas. In this way, a map could be created showing locations associated with the following impacts or consequences: e.g. gentrification processes (including rising rents, displacement or eviction, or a general change in the residential and commercial structure of neighborhoods), locations where there have been clashes between Airbnb tourists and residents, nuisances, traffic problems, waste management issues, safety problems, and places of resistance, etc. All the approaches presented could hereby serve as a blueprint. The individual changes could be divided into various categories, such as Iconoclasistas (2014); Valparaíso et al. (n.y.), or Orangotango (2018), and then be placed on a map. Another idea could be derived from Antunes et al. (2020). Such mapping practices would allow residents to not only illustrate where perceived changes happen in their local environment but also could make visible where disneyfication effects, or in general cultural transformations of neighborhoods are experienced or perceived. Especially for cultural changes which are not so easily quantifiable, this approach could be useful. Building on that, another attempt would be to combine Airbnb listings on the map together with perceived cultural changes in neighborhoods as well as with locations of associated struggles and effects similar to the “Tech Bus Stop Eviction Map” of AEMP (Maharawal & McElroy 2018). This integrated approach would include a variety of aspects and allow the mapping of a wide range of transformations. This adaptation of the approaches presented would have the potential to reveal different invisibilities associated with Airbnb by putting different effects side by side, showing alternative perceptions of neighborhoods and thus also drawing attention to them. In short, the field of housing and accommodation shows that this urban dimension is the best access point to address platform urbanism with counter-mapping, stressing again Artioli’s claim that housing provides “the most obvious urban implications” of platforms (2018: 5).
6.6
…and Beyond
The urban categories presented in this thesis already show some examples that are applicable for future use in the field of platform urbanism. Additionally, in the course of the work, it has become evident that some approaches go beyond these categories in different ways. First, counter-mappings are presented that do
92
6
Counter-mapping Platform Urbanism
not fall into the defined urban categories but could be useful in other ways for further engagement with platform urbanism. Second, examples are shown that abandon the categories altogether and combine approaches. Finally, approaches are presented that take an even bigger step and move beyond the map as such.
6.6.1
Beyond urban categories
… thinking outside the box—counter-mappings outside urban dimensions There are also some examples of counter-mappings that slip through the grid, which means they do not fit into the from this thesis provided urban categories. However, these are useful for approaching the topic of platform urbanism or the impact of platforms in a different way, as illustrated in Table 6.1.5 Table 6.1 Counter-mappings outside urban dimensions Topic
5
Examples
Surveillance
Surveillance issues of platforms (van der Vlist 2017).
Harassment/ violence
Mapping femicides in Germany (AK Feministische Geographien Frankfurt a.M. 2022) Mapping sexual harassment in Egypt (Flinkman & HarassMap team 2018) Mapping street harassment (overview) (Fileborn 2021)
Mapping Activism
Gentrification and resistance in Kreuzberg, Berlin (Orangotango 2018) Mapping arrests and militarization (Colectivo de Geografía Crítica del Ecuador 2018) Political action maps for protests (Kartographische Aktion 2018) Counter-mapping activism in Barcelona (Vilaseca 2014)
and
Relevance for platforms/ platform urbanism: To explore the question of how surveillance technology deployed by platforms affects everyday life. An adaptation of approaches concerning (sexual) assault and violence in the context of for example accommodation or mobility.
To explore the relationship between protest, countermapping, and platform urbanism
Especially in the field of platform mobility, sexual harassment is a daily reality. For example, the ridesharing platform Lyft reported 4.000 reports of sexual assaults between 2017 and 2019 (Paul 2021).
6.6 …and Beyond
6.6.2
93
Beyond categories…
…combining counter-mappings of different urban dimensions Building on the findings from the housing sector, it is also possible to go beyond the boundaries of separate areas of urbanism and include different aspects of multiple sectors. It would be feasible to bring together different dimensions in one countermapping project by either categorizing them into for example housing, mobility, etc., similar to the two Iconoclasistas projects: Iconoclasistas (2016a) and Valparaíso et al. (n.y.). Another way would be to put them all together on the map, abandon dimension and thus highlight the interdependent effects of platforms. A combination of mappings of perceptions and experiences of different affected groups would also be applicable. e.g. residents could point to perceived cultural changes in their neighborhoods due to Airbnb (housing dimensions) a la Antunes et al. (2020), or experiences of workers or Uber or Deliveroo as in Moss & Irving (2018) homelessness project could be represented. In this context, there is a huge variety of possible combinations. These combination possibilities highlight the potential of counter-mappings to abandon predefined limits, in this case, however, the limits that were set by the author of this thesis. In addition to practices that go beyond the predefined categories, there are also approaches that question the cartographic nature of maps as well as maps as a medium. Nevertheless, Section 6.6.3 will briefly show what kind of starting points these approaches can provide for a future engagement with platform urbanism.
6.6.3
Beyond maps…
…other (mapping) practices for engaging with platform urbanism In activist contexts, counter-mapping is frequently only part of a broader process. Other activist methods are employed as well. One example is the “Narratives of Displacement and Resistance (NDR)” project of the AEMP, which transcends only map-making. It is understood as a “collective practice of recording community and life histories” (Maharawal & McElroy 2018: 384), using maps, but also life stories of community members, as well as murals and multimedia tools such as video and audio works, etc., to expose a broad field of struggles in the context of urban transformation processes (Maharawal & McElroy 2018).
94
6
Counter-mapping Platform Urbanism
In addition, it has also been shown that a similar trend can be observed in more academic approaches. But instead of combining activist methods, such as murals or other forms of visual protest, different academic methods of information gathering are combined. (Counter-) mapping practices constitute just a fraction of the information gathering during a research process. This can be observed by looking into the research process of Antunes et al. (2020) where mapping practices were interwoven in structured interviews. Another example is Akbari (2018), who focuses on perceived injustices in urban neighborhoods in Sheffield, UK, using mapping practices of citizens combined with storytelling and interviews. This stresses again, that counter-mapping is mostly only a part of a broader process rather than a stand-alone method. But it also means that the contours of counter-mapping are becoming blurred. Not only does it become difficult to for example delineate what is performance art, an academic project and what is still understood as counter-mapping. Similar to Cobarrubias & Pickles (2008), Gerlach (2010: 167) describes that new creative practices are “not [anymore] limited to mapping itself”. Their potential arises from the ability of “generating and conversely destroying different space–times and ideas about what counts as political and, of course, what counts as cartographic” (Gerlach 2010: 167). But what does this mean for platform urbanism? In short, novel approaches also offer starting points for an examination of the topic, although they are difficult to classify in urban categories and have only remotely cartographic ties. In the following, some examples are presented, which go beyond the map. Widely considered a pioneer is the French artist/activist group Bureau d’études, (Bureau d’études n.y.). Focusing on contemporary capitalism and neoliberal developments, the group is active since the late 1990s. (Cobarrubias & Pickles 2008). According to Cobarrubias & Pickles (2008: 44), the goal of this group from early on was to create “autonomous counter knowledges”, apparent in the creation of a large number of maps. In contrast to other counter-maps, those illustrations can be understood as, how Cobarrubias & Pickles (2008: 47) describe it, “a cartography of assemblage”. It is less a representation of specific spaces than a representation of connections and networks. One example would be the “European Norms of World production” (Bureau d’études 2003), an sophisticated overview of different connections and processes within the institutional body of the European Union. This “roadmap” aims to reveal processes that take place behind the scenes of the EU: “to help open the public eye”, understanding and rendering visible for i.e. lobbying efforts, etc. (Bureau d’études 2003)
6.6 …and Beyond
95
This already shows an essential point of this illustration. The spatial component is only very loosely or indirectly given; linkages, assemblages, and related processes between bodies of the EU, countries, interest groups, etc. are in the foreground. Another example is the work of Josh On, the creator of “They rule” (On n.y.) an online tool showing an overview of a network of executives and other prominent individuals from leading companies. Connections in the form of company members and their links to other large companies provide an overview of the emerging networks (Ibid.). This form of visualization goes even more in the direction of network visualization. Another approach comes from French architect group Atelier d’architecture autogérée (aaa). Drawing from among others Latour’s actor-network theory as well as Deleuze & Guattari’s capitalism critique, the group undertook several “mapping[s] [of] relational practice” (Petrescu 2012: 135). The group mapped the ECObox project, an urban gardening project which ultimately aims to establish “a network of self-managed places” including residents to “transform temporary available and underused space” (Petrescu 2012: 136). The mapping process carried out by this group is of particular interest because it links very diverse elements and illustrates their relationships. The group illustrates the relations between equipment (with which parts of the garden are equipped), buildings, and other places, as well as groups of people. Furthermore, processes that are arising through these connections are displayed (Petrescu 2012). One could describe this as a multidimensional network mapping of people and objects which however also features spatial reference points. In summary, these three examples illustrate that the maps, to varying degrees, resolve the relationship to spatial reference points. Much more than spatial representations, these projects focus on the processes and relationships between different actors, objects, institutions, and sometimes places. This sets them apart from the counter-mapping examples presented in the previous chapter. Nevertheless, it bears potential for engagement with platform urbanism. An intriguing connection is made by Akbari (2018), who recalls Castells’ notion of the network society in the context of the relational nature of space. This link can also be used in connection with the platform urbanism. As elaborated in Textbox 1, platforms exercise power in the context of networks (Castells 2011). Accordingly, approaches that stress relational understandings of space and highlight interactions and connections between different actors and elements of these networks also hold potential for highlighting the power of platforms.
96
6
Counter-mapping Platform Urbanism
To be more concrete: With these relational approaches, platforms in urban environments can be examined in terms of their connections and the power associated with them. In this way, platform urbanism can be analyzed not only in terms of effects and consequences based on concrete examples in urban space, e.g. gentrification, mobility patterns, etc., but also primarily in terms of power imbalances and the entanglements of platforms. The approaches differ in terms of their applicability to platform urbanism contexts. The work of the Bureau d’études, (Bureau d’études n.y., 2003) could be used, for example, to elaborate on the practices, connections, and procedures of platforms in urban spaces, including power hierarchies over residents or local city governments. Similarly, the “They rule” (On n.y.) project would also be conceivable for the major platforms in order to uncover not only personnel connections but also technical interfaces between different platforms and thus make visible what enables what van Dijck et al. (2018) call the “platform society”. This would enable to get to the bottom of the exclusive and elitist networks, which according to Scholz (2016) and Caprotti & Liu (2020) are hiding behind the black box mechanisms of platforms. So instead of examining the effects and consequences of platforms in urban space, as was done in chapter 4, this approach could take a look behind the scenes, and explore more closely how, for example, the decision-making processes of platforms take place. This would also be of particular interest from a platform economics point of view. Of particular capacity for platform urbanism is the mapping of the ECObox project approach of aaa (Petrescu 2012). Platforms often use smartphones as a central interface for users. It could therefore function as a sensor. A visualization of smartphones as the intersection of platforms and their connections with people, objects, places, and processes would be a way to show the multi-layered and multi-dimensional relationships and influences of platforms on them. In summary, these three examples, although their approaches differ from the in Sections 6.1–6.5 presented counter-mapping examples, offer potential for the analysis of platform urbanism, particularly for analyzing the relational nature of platforms with different elements of the urban as well as its inhabitants. Another idea can be derived from social cartography which makes use of a huge range of diverse methods and tools. Among them are body mappings or body cartographies (Risler 2016). Iconoclasistas sums this approach up: “A body, whether it be individual, social, or collective, may be mapped as well. The topics to address are multiple and include not only a concrete dimension (such as
6.6 …and Beyond
97
mapping illnesses, most frequent accidents, ailments, etc., due to working conditions or conflicts) but also the possibility to reflect upon and mark the impact of dominant discourses and institutions, and the way conducts and imaginaries are organized by them” (Risler 2016: 31)
There are countless possibilities in this context. Several activist groups have taken up this approach and used it in very different settings (Risler 2016; Bryan 2018). This method could also be used for platform urbanism in a variety of ways. Iconoclasistas themselves already propose several practical examples that could be adapted to the platform urbanism context without much effort. Imaginable would be the illustration of the effects of platforms on working conditions, lifestyles and patterns of consumption or use of services, etc. (Risler 2016). This shows that (counter-)mappings are not limited to the medium of maps. But not only bodies are an exception. Another example is textile maps, created by Moroccan women from the Sidi Yusf neighbourhood in Marrakech, Morocco (Olmedo 2018). The textile maps were developed in collaboration with a researcher and local women between 2010 and 2014. In short: “This textile mapping is a post-visual art which is used to render places as they are experienced and lived in by the women of a working-class neighbourhood” (Olmedo 2018: 265).
The researcher involved underlines that this project is a new way of making maps and emphasizes that maps should not be seen as objects but as the result of collective creation, focusing on the influence of their creator (Olmedo 2018). Like body mappings, textile maps could also be used by platform workers to illustrate their working conditions. For example, instead of traditional Moroccan textiles, parts of the colorful and ever-present work clothes of delivery drivers could be repurposed to depict their experiences and struggles. Again, there are numerous possibilities. What is important, is the realization that there are possibilities to depict changing realities as well as problems utilizing very different media, objects, and images. From a theoretical perspective, the results of this sub-chapter are not easy to categorize. Not only are the examples presented on the borderline between activist, artistic, and academic mapping practices, see textile maps (Olmedo 2018), but there are also different understandings of approaches. For example, are the projects of Iconoclasistas. Some of them have already been presented as counter-mapping practices in Sections 6.1–6.5, while Bryan (2018) on the other hand claims that their practices are examples of social cartography.
98
6
Counter-mapping Platform Urbanism
Furthermore, cartographic ties are sometimes only indirectly or not given at all, which also raises questions about the relation to the cartographic discipline. Therefore, they are summarized in this subsection as examples that in some way transcend the map as such. What is positive, however, are the inputs for platform urbanism. Regardless of the theoretical location of the approaches, various starting points can be derived here. Representing networks of personal or other platforms, connections between platforms, smartphones, material urban space, or new mapping media offer a huge range of new possibilities to engage with platforms and platform urbanism.
7
Conclusion
In recent years, the impact of platforms has increased, and with it academic attention to platform urbanism. Nevertheless, many aspects of the research field are still in the dark. Building on the understanding of platforms as black boxes, Fields et al. (2020) called for a deeper engagement of platform urbanism and highlighted the potential of counter-mappings. This thesis has taken up this call and explored the possible approaches that serve as starting points for this connection. In the beginning, it was shown in chapter 4, that not only very different and intimate segments of everyday life are influenced by platforms, but also that substantial material changes in urban space are associated with them. Therefore, based on the current state of research, five urban dimensions were identified (food and consumption, logistics, work, mobility, and housing). Within these domains, numerous areas of conflict have been located. It also became clear, that various areas and regions have not yet been sufficiently explored. Precisely at this point, the thesis investigated the possibility of counter-mapping, offering starting points for a more in-depth examination of platform urbanism. It was shown, that already existing counter-mapping cases can be applied to aspects and issues of the previously identified five urban dimensions. In the areas of food and consumption, only relatively few projects could be identified. However, this does not mean, that these areas are not worthwhile or unsuitable for an engagement with platform urbanism. It simply means that only a small number of already existing projects could be identified here. For the areas of work, mobility, and especially housing, a great number of projects were found that serve as potential starting points for further engagement with platform urbanism using counter-mapping.
© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Fachmedien Wiesbaden GmbH, part of Springer Nature 2023 D. Weissenrieder, Exploring Platform Urbanism Using Counter-Mapping, BestMasters, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-658-40648-6_7
99
100
7
Conclusion
Concerning the research question of whether counter-mapping is applicable to the study of platform urbanism, the following statement can be made based on the study and potential adaption of existing counter-mapping practices: Counter-mapping practices are generally applicable to a closer examination of platform urbanism and offer numerous starting points for future research.
Sometimes only minimal adjustments are needed to modify already existing approaches into the framework of platform urbanism. It has also been shown that the scope of application here is very broad. The findings of this thesis suggest that besides analyzing different aspects individually within the predefined categories it can also combine different areas, for example mapping working conditions as well as housing issues in a certain neighborhood. Furthermore, also aspects outside the predefined urban dimensions of platform urbanism, or platforms in general, can be analyzed using counter-mapping. Moreover, it was shown that the understanding of counter-mapping plays an important role in determining what practices are considered as such. The last part of the preceding section of the analysis has shown that with a broader understanding of counter-mapping a more diverse range of practices can be utilized, which indicates that a range of different critical-cartography approaches bears potential for engaging with platform urbanism. As this shows further possibilities for additional approaches that are also associated with critical cartography but go beyond the boundaries of the thesis, the approach of this thesis must be critically reflected. The method used for this thesis was not based on a theoretical foundation but was designed by the author1 himself. Therefore, it is even more important to reflect on the procedure in detail at this point. The method builds on two major steps (besides contextualizing theoretical aspects). First, identifying urban dimensions where platforms engage in the context of platform urbanism and also highlight areas of conflict. For this purpose, five key dimensions of platform urbanism were developed, inductively based on existing literature. In a second step, these categories were used as a grid so that
1
It should also be noted that the method developed, and the results abstracted are based on the understanding of the author, whose perspective is limited due to his own persona as a Western European academic. The results of this thesis should therefore be supplemented by further studies from other, non-Western, countries, since, as for example the platform work of MTurk in India shows, platform urbanism is not exclusively a Western phenomenon but rather has transnational elements and effects.
7
Conclusion
101
counter-mapping cases could be placed into these categories and starting points for platform urbanism could be derived. Given that there are also counter-mappings that are suitable for platform urbanism but fall through these categories, it is necessary to raise the question, of to what extent it is useful to hold and classify cases of counter-mapping in predefined urban categories. The main objective of this thesis was to outline how counter-mapping is useful for the analysis of platform urbanism in general. A second inductive categorization of counter-mapping practices would have resulted in many categories which are not necessarily valuable or adaptable for the analysis of platform urbanism. A predefined classification was, therefore, necessary, to filter unnecessary cases out. Furthermore, a categorization was generally useful in the context of this thesis to create an overview of the topic. The undertaken exploratory categorization can be used as a basis for future research, as well as to compliment or criticize certain aspects and areas. Individual topics can also be separated from these categories and examined individually. There is a lot of potential at this point. Nevertheless, the general claim of counter-mapping must be emphasized at this point, as it also sets the limits of this approach. Although changes can be mapped via counter-mapping, it is difficult to ultimately assign responsibility for the effects to the occurrence of certain platforms. Due to other external factors such as urban planning measures etc., it would be challenging to determine exactly to what extent for example gentrification processes are caused by platforms. Further analysis would be necessary for this context. But the potential of counter-mapping to meet these demands was not only not examined in the course of this thesis, but the approach does not necessarily pursue this objective. The strengths of this approach lie in its ability to reveal invisibilities and hidden mechanisms and practices and to create alternative realities (Cobarrubias & Pickles 2008; Bryan 2018). In this way, counter-mapping can contribute to shedding more light on the complex field of platform urbanism and the black box mechanism behind, piece by piece rather than ultimately. Another aspect to be reflected on is the theoretical understanding of countermapping. In general Fields et al.’s (2020) call for the use of counter-mapping for a deeper exploration of counter-mapping was an intriguing idea. However, given the extraordinary complexity and diversity of critical mapping methods and critical cartography in general, the call was not exactly narrow. Counter-mapping can without a doubt be located in the field of critical cartography, but it is characterized by an enormous diversity of approaches, making it difficult to categorize and classify. The boundaries to other participatory mapping practices are often blurred. Vernacular mappings, which advocate a more
102
7
Conclusion
neutral use of mapping practices, or social cartography, which employs new and innovative techniques, further question counter-mapping assumptions. In addition, there are recurring debates about the true nature of countermapping, as well as the tension between artistic, academic, and activist research and practice, and the role of academics in general. Moreover, the question of whether counter-mapping necessarily requires a spatial component, or merely an oppositional approach, is contested. It is also debatable how the depiction of networks, and assemblages, partly without a spatial reference can be considered counter-mapping, and if they even can be counted as a cartographic approach at all. This thesis cannot definitively answer all of these unresolved theoretical questions. Although this may seem unsatisfactory, the debate over theoretical location is also part of the ongoing theoretical debates. Following the critical credo of critical cartography, this debate is also inevitable, which is why boundaries are frequently and reasonably challenged. What is certain, however, is that several of the elaborated approaches go beyond the urban dimensions set out in this thesis. Therefore, it can be argued that not only counter-mappings are helpful to studying platform urbanism, but a range of different approaches that are related to critical cartography. Or to put it even more generously, different “counter knowledges” (Cobarrubias & Pickles 2008: 44) can contribute to a deeper engagement with platform urbanism. Taking these critical reflections into account, the results can be positioned in the state of the art of research. This thesis has taken up a call and worked towards exploring a new approach of opening the black box of platform urbanism. Nevertheless, the black box is not remotely open. In the context of this thesis, urban dimensions of platform urbanism were identified, and adaptations of existing counter-mapping practices were reviewed for their potential applicability. The merit of this thesis is therefore mainly the provision of starting and access points for further research. These starting points can be used to develop own approaches specifically tailored to the platform urbanism contexts. In short, the link between counter-mapping and platform urbanism has been established, but now the suitability and practicality of this link must be put through its paces, applying approaches specifically tailored to platform urbanism. This also applies to approaches that go beyond the urban dimension established in this thesis and even beyond counter-mapping. Here, too, the starting points identified must now be subjected to a practical assessment. Furthermore,
7
Conclusion
103
theoretical reflections are nonetheless vital to be able to classify the overwhelming number of different artistic, activist, and academic practices and projects. There is still a lot of undiscovered potential here. Following Akbari (2018), further (counter-)mapping practices are now necessary, that do not necessarily need to provide unambiguous answers for platform urbanism, but instead rather complement knowledge about it following the Deleuzian understanding of “‘and... and... and...’” (Deleuze & Guattari 1987: 25). As interpreted by Dalton & Stallmann (2017), this also means that instead of setting rigid boundaries between different approaches, the variety of mapping practices should be embraced and focused on generating new insights and perceptions on platform urbanism through a wide range of creative mapping practices. Following this understanding, even revisiting the fundamental principles of critical cartography and the established border to traditional cartography would be conceivable. For example, Kühne’s (2021) approach of post-critical cartography could be a starting point for linking traditional and critical cartographic approaches, with a pure focus on generating new insights on platform urbanism. This shows that many pathways are open for future research in the field of platform urbanism. Given the increasing dominance of some platforms, a thorough critical examination is therefore required, regardless of theoretical restrictions.
References
AK Feministische Geographien Frankfurt a.M. (2022) Gegenkartieren mit Storymaps— Werkzeug einer feministischen Betrachtung von Femi(ni)ziden in Deutschland. In: Dammann, F. & Michel, B. (eds.) Handbuch Kritisches Kartieren. transcript, Bielefeld, pp. 113–124. Akbari, P. (2018) Toward Just Urbanism: Mapping Inhabitants’ Experience of (In)justice in Urban Neighbourhoods. Dissertation. University of Sheffield, Sheffield. Albino, V., Berardi, U. & Dangelico, R. M. (2015) Smart Cities: Definitions, Dimensions, Performance, and Initiatives. Journal of Urban Technology 22 (1), 3–21. Alimahomed-Wilson, J. (2020) The Amazonification of Logistics. In: Alimahomed-Wilson, J. & Reese, E. (eds.) The Cost of Free Shipping. Pluto Books, London, pp. 69–84. Alonso-Almeida, M. d. M. (2019) Carsharing: Another gender issue? Drivers of carsharing usage among women and relationship to perceived value. Travel Behaviour and Society 17, 36–45. Altenried, M. (2019) On the last mile: logistical urbanism and the transformation of labour. Work Organisation, Labour & Globalisation 13 (1), 114–129. Altenried, M. (2021a) Mobile workers, contingent labour: Migration, the gig economy and the multiplication of labour. Environment and Planning A: Economy and Space 0 (0), 1–16. Altenried, M. (2021b) Was ist eine Platform?: Politische Ökonomie und Arbeit im Platformkapitalismus. In: Altenried, M., Dück, J. & Wallis, M. (eds.) Plattformkapitalismus und die Krise der sozialen Reproduktion. Westfälisches Dampfboot, Münster, 50–69. Altenried, M., Animento, S. & Bojadžijev, M. (2021) Plattform-Urbanismus. sub\urban. zeitschrift für kritische stadtforschung 9 (1/2), 73–92. Alvarez León, L. F. (2018) Counter-Mapping the Spaces of Autonomous Driving. Cartographic Perspectives (92), 10–23. Andreotti, A., Anselmi, G., Eichhorn, T., Hoffmann, C. P. & Micheli, M. (2017) Participation in the Sharing Economy. Report from the EU H2020 Research Project Ps2Share: Participation, Privacy, and Power in the Sharing Economy. Anti-Eviction Mapping Project (AEMP) (n.y.a) Allied Projects. https://antievictionmap.com/ allied-projects. Accessed 5/30/2022. © The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Fachmedien Wiesbaden GmbH, part of Springer Nature 2023 D. Weissenrieder, Exploring Platform Urbanism Using Counter-Mapping, BestMasters, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-658-40648-6
105
106
References
Anti-Eviction Mapping Project (AEMP) (n.y.b) Tenant Protection Resources. https://antiev ictionmap.com/find-resources. Accessed 5/30/2022. Anti-Eviction Mapping Project (AEMP) (2018) AEMP Handbook by The Anti-Eviction Mapping Project (AEMP). In: Capous-Desyllas, M. & Morgaine, K. (eds.) Creating Social Change Through Creativity. Springer, Cham, pp. 289–308. Antunes, B., March, H. & Connolly, J. J. (2020) Spatializing gentrification in situ: A critical cartography of resident perceptions of neighbourhood change in Vallcarca, Barcelona. Cities 97 (102521), 1–13. Artioli, F. (2018) Digital platforms and cities: a literature review for urban research. Cities are back in town working papers 1, 1–34. Ash, J., Kitchin, R. & Leszczynski, A. (2018) Digital turn, digital geographies? Progress in Human Geography 42 (1), 25–43. Barbosa Jr., R. & Burns, R. (2021) A community farm maps back! Disputes over public urban farmland in Calgary, Alberta. Journal of Maps 17 (1), 46–54. Barns, S. (2019) Negotiating the platform pivot: From participatory digital ecosystems to infrastructures of everyday life. Geography Compass 13:e12464, 1–13. Barns, S. (2020a) Platform Urbanism: Negotiating Platform Ecosystems in Connected Cities. Palgrave Macmillan, Singapore. Barns, S. (2020b) Re-engineering the City: Platform Ecosystems and the Capture of Urban Big Data. Frontiers in Sustainable Cities 2 (32), 1–8. Barton, A. & Manning, R. (eds.) (2017) Smart Cities: Technologies, Challenges and Future Prospects. Nova Science Publishers, New York. Bauer, K. (2009) On the politics and the possibilities of participatory mapping and GIS: using spatial technologies to study common property and land use change among pastoralists in Central Tibet. cultural geographies 16, 229–252. Bauriedl, S. & Strüver, A. (2017) Smarte Städte. Digitalisierte urbane Infrastrukturen und ihre Subjekte als Themenfeld kritischer Stadtforschung. sub\urban. zeitschrift für kritische stadtforschung 5 (1/2), 87–104. Bauriedl, S. & Strüver, A. (2020) Platform Urbanism: Technocapitalist Production of Private and Public Spaces. Urban Planning 5 (4), 267–276. Bauriedl, S. & Wiechers, H. (2021) Konturen eines Plattform-Urbanismus: Soziale und räumliche Ausprägungen eines digital divide am Beispiel Smart Mobility. sub\urban. zeitschrift für kritische stadtforschung 9 (1/2), 93–114. Belina, B. (2007) Zur Kritik von Kriminalgeographie und Kriminalitätskartierung… und warum deren heutige Bemühungen noch hinter Quetelet zurückfallen. In: Tzschaschel, S., Wild, H. & Lentz, S. (eds.) Visualisierung des Raumes: Karten machen—die Macht der Karten. Leibniz-Institut für Länderkunde, Leipzig, pp. 241–255. Belk, R. (2014) Sharing Versus Pseudo-Sharing in Web 2.0. The Anthropologist 18 (1), 7–23. Benvegnù, C., Cuppini, N., Frapporti, M., Milesi, F., Pirone, M. & (Into the Black Box) (2021) Platform Battlefield: Digital Infrastructures in Capitalism 4.0. South Atlantic Quarterly 120 (4), 689–702. Bergvall-Kåreborn, B. & Howcroft, D. (2014) Amazon Mechanical Turk and the commodification of labour. New Technology, Work and Employment 29 (3), 213–223. Bernardi, M. (2018) The impact of AirBnB in our cities: Gentrification and ‘disneyfication’ 2.0. https://labgov.city/theurbanmedialab/the-impact-of-airbnb-on-our-cities-gentri fication-and-disneyfication-2-0/. Accessed 5/30/2022.
References
107
Bibri, S. E. (2018) Smart sustainable cities of the future: The untapped potential of big data analytics and context-aware computing for advancing sustainability. Springer, Cham. Bittner, C. & Michel, B. (2018a) Partizipatives Kartieren als Praxis einer kritischen Kartographie. In: Wintzer, J. (ed.) Sozialraum erforschen: Qualitative Methoden in der Geographie. Springer, Berlin, Heidelberg, pp. 297–312. Bittner, C. & Michel, B. (2018b) Qualitative Geographische Informationssysteme. In: Wintzer, J. (ed.) Sozialraum erforschen: Qualitative Methoden in der Geographie. Springer, Berlin, Heidelberg, pp. 151–166. Bliss, L. (2019) MapLab: The Power of Counter-Maps: A biweekly tour of the everexpanding cartographic landscape. Bloomberg, December 04. https://www.bloomberg. com/news/articles/2019-12-04/maplab-the-power-of-counter-maps. Accessed 5/30/2022. Blomley, N. (2006) Uncritical critical geography? Progress in Human Geography 30 (1), 87–94. Boewe, J., Morgenroth, T. & Schulten, J. (2021) Amazons letzte Meile: Ein Onlinehändler als Prekarisierungstreiber in der Paketlogistik—Eine Fallstudie zum Verteilzentrum ErfurtStotternheim. Rosa Luxemburg Stiftung. Boewe, J. & Schulten, J. (2021) Amazon’s Last Mile: How the number-one online retailer is driving job insecurity in logistics. Rosa Luxemburg Stiftung. Bratton, B. H. (2015) The stack: On software and sovereignty. The MIT Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts. Bryan, J. (2018) Counter-Mapping Development. In: Cupples, J., Palomino-Schalscha, M. & Prieto, M. (eds.) The Routledge handbook of Latin American development. Routledge, London, New York, pp. 263–272. Bucher, T. (2016) Neither Black Nor Box: Ways of Knowing Algorithms. In: Kubitschko, S. & Kaun, A. (eds.) Innovative methods in media and communication research. Springer, Cham, pp. 81–98. Bureau d’études (n.y.) Home. https://bureaudetudes.org/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Bureau d´études (2003) European Norms of World production. https://bureaudetudes.org/ 2003/01/19/european-norms-of-world-production-bureau-detudes-nicco-et-alii-2003/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Calabrese, F., Diao, M., Di Lorenzo, G., Ferreira, J. & Ratti, C. (2013) Understanding individual mobility patterns from urban sensing data: A mobile phone trace example. Transportation Research Part C: Emerging Technologies 26, 301–313. Camara, G. S., Camboim, S. P. & Bravo, J. V. M. (2021) Collaborative emotional mapping as a tool for urban mobility planning. Bulletin of Geodetic Sciences 27(spe) (e2021011), 1–18. Campos-Delgado, A. (2018) Counter-mapping migration: irregular migrants’ stories through cognitive mapping. Mobilities 13 (4), 488–504. Caprotti, F. & Liu, D. (2020) Platform urbanism and the Chinese smart city: the coproduction and territorialisation of Hangzhou City Brain. GeoJournal, 1–15. Caquard, S. & Griffin, A. (2018) Mapping Emotional Cartography. Cartographic Perspectives (91), 4–16. Castells, M. (1996) The Rise of the Network Society: The Information Age: Economy, Society and Culture Vol. I. Blackwell, Malden. Castells, M. (2011) A Network Theory of Power. International Journal of Communication 5, 773–787.
108
References
Chapin, M. & Threlkeld, B. (2001) Indigenous Landscapes: A Study In Ethnocartography. Center for the Support of Native Lands, Arlington. Church, A., Frost, M. & Sullivan, K. (2000) Transport and social exclusion in London. Transport Policy 7 (3), 195–205. City of New York (NYC) (n.y.) NYC Crime Map. https://maps.nyc.gov/crime/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Cobarrubias, S. & Pickles, J. (2008) Spacing movements: The turn to cartographies and mapping practices in contemporary social movements. In: Warf, B. & Arias, S. (eds.) The spatial turn: Interdisciplinary perspectives. Routledge, London, New York, 36–59. Colectivo de Geografía Crítica del Ecuador (2018) Untangling the Strategies of Capital: Towards a Critical Atlas of Ecuador. In: Halder, S., Heyer, K. & Michel, B. et al. (eds.) This is not an atlas: A global collection of counter-cartographies. transcript, Bielefeld, 130–135. Colpaart, A. (2019) Everything You Need to Know About Cloud Kitchens (aka. Ghost Kitchens) in 2020. https://www.thefoodcorridor.com/2019/12/05/everything-you-needto-know-about-cloud-kitchens-aka-ghost-kitchens-in-2020/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Counter Cartographies Collective (3Cs), Dalton, C. M. & Mason-Deese, L. (2012) Counter (Mapping) Actions: Mapping as Militant Research. ACME: An International E-Journal for Critical Geographies 11 (3), 439–466. Crampton, J. & Krygier, J. (2006) An Introduction to Critical Cartography. ACME: An International E-Journal for Critical Geographies 4 (1), 11–33. Crampton, J. W. (2010) Mapping: A critical introduction to cartography and GIS. WileyBlackwell, Malden. Dalton, C. M. & Stallmann, T. (2017) Counter-mapping data science. The Canadian Geographer / Le Géographe canadien 62 (1), 93–101. Datta, A. & Odendaal, N. (2019) Smart cities and the banality of power. Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 37 (3), 387–392. Deleuze, G. & Guattari, F. (1987) A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia, Translation and Foreword by Brian Massumi. University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis, London. Docherty, I., Marsden, G. & Anable, J. (2018) The governance of smart mobility. Transportation Research Part A: Policy and Practice 115, 114–125. Dörr, T. (n.y.) Berliner Gartenkarte. https://gartenkarte.de/#!index.md. Accessed 5/30/2022. Dotterud Leiren, M. & Aarhaug, J. (2016) Taxis and crowd-taxis: sharing as a private activity and public concern. Internet Policy Review 5 (2), 1–17. Dunn, C. E. (2007) Participatory GIS—a people’s GIS? Progress in Human Geography 31 (5), 616–637. Ecker, Y., Rowek, M. & Strüver, A. (2021) Care on Demand: Geschlechternormierte Arbeitsund Raumstrukturen in der plattformbasierten Sorgearbeit. In: Altenried, M., Dück, J. & Wallis, M. (eds.) Plattformkapitalismus und die Krise der sozialen Reproduktion. Westfälisches Dampfboot, Münster, pp. 112–129. Elwood, S. (2006) Beyond Cooptation or Resistance: Urban Spatial Politics, Community Organizations, and GIS-Based Spatial Narratives. Annals of the Association of American Geographers 96 (2), 323–341. Elwood, S. (2008) Volunteered geographic information: future research directions motivated by critical, participatory, and feminist GIS. GeoJournal 72 (3-4), 173–183.
References
109
Engelbert, J. (2019) Reading the Neoliberal Smart City Narrative: The Political Potential of Everyday Meaning-making. In: Cardullo, P., Di Feliciantonio, C. & Kitchin, R. (eds.) The Right to the Smart City. Emerald Publishing, Bingley, pp. 43–55. Erhardt, G. D., Roy, S., Cooper, D., Sana, B., Chen, M. & Castiglione, J. (2019) Do transportation network companies decrease or increase congestion? Science Advances 5 (5), 1–11. Evans, J., Karvonen, A. & Luque-Ayala, A. et al. (2019) Smart and sustainable cities? Pipedreams, practicalities and possibilities. Local Environment 24 (7), 557–564. Fields, D., Bissell, D. & Macrorie, R. (2020) Platform methods: studying platform urbanism outside the black box. Urban Geography 41 (3), 462–468. Fileborn, B. (2021) Online activism and street harassment: Critical cartographies, countermapping and spatial justice. Oñati Socio-Legal Series 11 (5), 1198–1221. Flinkman, N. & HarassMap team (2018) Mapping Sexual Harassment in Egypt. In: Halder, S., Heyer, K. & Michel, B. et al. (eds.) This is not an atlas: A global collection of countercartographies. transcript, Bielefeld, pp. 126–129. Follmann, A., Leitheiser, S. & Kretschmer, H. (2021) Smart und/oder partizipativ? Eine kritische Betrachtung der SmartCity Cologne. sub\urban. zeitschrift für kritische stadtforschung 9 (1/2), 115–139. Frenken, K. & Fuenfschilling, L. (2020) The Rise of Online Platforms and the Triumph of the Corporation. Sociologica 14 (3), 101–113. Frenken, K. & Schor, J. (2017) Putting the sharing economy into perspective. Environmental Innovation and Societal Transitions 23, 3–10. Fuchs, C. (2010) Labor in Informational Capitalism and on the Internet. The Information Society 26 (3), 179–196. Galeana, F. (2022) Vernacular legibility in counter-mapping: Assembling the geo-body of an indigenous socio-territorial movement in Honduras. Geoforum 128, 158–167. Gangarova, T. & Unger, H. (2020) Community Mapping als Methode: Erfahrungen aus der partizipativen Zusammenarbeit mit Migrant*innen. In: Hartung, S., Wihofszky, P. & Wright, M. T. (eds.) Partizipative Forschung: Ein Forschungsansatz für Gesundheit und seine Methoden. Springer, Wiesbaden, pp. 143–177. Gant, A. C. (2016) Holiday Rentals: The New Gentrification Battlefront. Sociological Research Online 21 (3), 112–120. Garcia-López, M.-À., Jofre-Monseny, J., Martínez-Mazza, R. & Segú, M. (2020) Do shortterm rental platforms affect housing markets? Evidence from Airbnb in Barcelona. Journal of Urban Economics 119, 103278. Gassmann, O., Böhm, J. & Palmié, M. (2019) Smart cities: Introducing digital innovation to cities. Emerald Publishing, Bingley. Gawer, A. & Srnicek, N. (2021) Online platforms: Economic and societal effects. Study. Panel for the Future of Science and Technology. European Parliamentary Research Service (EPRS). Geissinger, A., Laurell, C. & Sandström, C. (2020) Digital Disruption beyond Uber and Airbnb—Tracking the long tail of the sharing economy. Technological Forecasting and Social Change 155, 119323. Gerlach, J. (2010) Vernacular Mapping, and the Ethics of What Comes Next. Cartographica: The International Journal for Geographic Information and Geovisualization 45 (3), 165– 168.
110
References
Gerlach, J. (2014) Lines, contours and legends: Coordinates for vernacular mapping. Progress in Human Geography 38 (1), 22–39. Germes, M. & Klaus, L. (2021) When marginalized subjects map their city: Countermapping experiments with drug users in some German and French neighborhoods. Bulletin of Sociological Methodology 152 (1), 96–124. Ghosh, S. (2018) Undercover author finds Amazon warehouse workers in UK ‘peed in bottles’ over fears of being punished for taking a break. Business Insider, April 16. https://www.businessinsider.com/amazon-warehouse-workers-have-to-pee-into-bottles2018-4?utm_source=reddit.com. Accessed 5/30/2022. Giesel, F. & Nobis, C. (2016) The Impact of Carsharing on Car Ownership in German Cities. Transportation Research Procedia 19, 215–224. Gillespie, T. (2010) The politics of ‘platforms’. New Media & Society 12 (3), 347–364. Glasze, G. (2009) Kritische Kartographie. Geographische Zeitschrift 97 (4), 181–191. Glasze, G. (2015) Neue Kartografien, neue Geografien: Weltbilder im digitalen Zeitalter. APuZ (Aus Politik und Zeitgeschichte) 65, 29–37. Glasze, G., Bittner, C., Michel, B., Mose, J. & Strüver, A. (2021) 18 Ein diskurstheoretisch informierter Blick auf Karten und Kartographie. In: Glasze, G. & Mattissek, A. (eds.) Handbuch Diskurs und Raum: Theorien und Methoden für die Humangeographie sowie die sozial- und kulturwissenschaftliche Raumforschung. transcript, Bielefeld, pp. 405–416. Goodchild, M. F. (2007) Citizens as sensors: the world of volunteered geography. GeoJournal 69 (4), 211–221. Goodchild, M. F. & Glennon, J. A. (2010) Crowdsourcing geographic information for disaster response: a research frontier. International Journal of Digital Earth 3 (3), 231–241. Graham, M. (2020) Regulate, replicate, and resist—the conjunctural geographies of platform urbanism. Urban Geography 41 (3), 453–457. Graham, S. & Marvin, S. (2001) Splintering Urbanism: Networked Infrastructures, Technological Mobilities and the Urban Condition. Routledge, London. Groth, S. (2019) Multioptionalität: Ein neuer („alter“) Terminus in der Alltagsmobilität der modernen Gesellschaft? Spatial Research and Planning 77 (1), 17–34. Haar, K. (2018) Unfairbnb: How online rental platforms use the EU to defeat cities’ affordable housing measures. https://corporateeurope.org/en/power-lobbies/2018/05/unfairbnb. Haar, K. & Ainger, K. (2018) Unfairbnb: How online rental platforms use the EU to defeat cities’ affordable housing measures. https://corporateeurope.org/en/power-lobbies/2018/ 05/unfairbnb. Accessed 5/30/2022. Halder, S., Heyer, K. & Michel, B. et al. (eds.) (2018) This is not an atlas: A global collection of counter-cartographies. transcript, Bielefeld. Harley, J. B. (1989) Deconstructing the Map. Cartographica: The International Journal for Geographic Information and Geovisualization 26 (2), 1–20. Harris, L. M. & Hazen, H. D. (2006) Power of Maps: (Counter) Mapping for Conservation. ACME: An International E-Journal for Critical Geographies 4 (1), 99–130. Harvey, D. (1973) Social Justice and the City. Blackwell, Oxford. Harvey, D. (1989) The Condition of Postmodernity: An Enquiry into the Origins of Cultural Change. Blackwell, Oxford. Harvey, D. (2001) Spaces of Capital: Towards a Critical Geography. Routledge, New York.
References
111
Hill, D. (2013) On the smart city: Or, a ‘manifesto’ for smart citizens instead. https://med ium.com/butwhatwasthequestion/on-the-smart-city-or-a-manifesto-for-smart-citizensinstead-7e0c6425f909. Accessed 5/30/2022. Hirt, I. (2012) Mapping Dreams/Dreaming Maps: Bridging Indigenous and Western Geographical Knowledge. Cartographica: The International Journal for Geographic Information and Geovisualization 47 (2), 105–120. Hodgson, D. L. & Schroeder, R. A. (2002) Dilemmas of Counter-Mapping Community Resources in Tanzania. Development and Change 33 (1), 79–100. Holm, A. (2016) Wie verändert Airbnb den Wohnungsmarkt? Eine Politische Ökonomie der Ferienwohnungen am Beispiel Berlin. ak—analyse & kritik (617), 9. Iconoclasistas (n.y.) Overview Cartografías. https://iconoclasistas.net/cartografias/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Iconoclasistas (2013) José León Suárez,. https://iconoclasistas.net/portfolio-item/jose-leonsuarez-2013/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Iconoclasistas (2014) Valparaiso. https://iconoclasistas.net/portfolio-item/problematica-urb ana-de-valparaiso/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Iconoclasistas (2016a) Santa Fe. https://iconoclasistas.net/portfolio-item/santa-fe-2016/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Iconoclasistas (2016b) Santa Maria la Ribera. https://iconoclasistas.net/portfolio-item/santamaria-la-ribera-2016/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Iconoclasistas (2019) Ciudad Vieja. https://iconoclasistas.net/portfolio-item/ciudad-viejas2019/. Accessed 5/30/2022. International Labour Organization (ILO) (2012) From Precarious Work to Decent Work.: Outcome Document to the Workers’ Symposium on Policies and Regulations to combat Precarious Employment, Geneva. Isaac, E. (2014) Disruptive Innovation: Risk-Shifting and Precarity in the Age of Uber. BRIE Working Paper (7), 1–20. Johnson, J. T., Louis, R. P. & Pramono, A. H. (2006) Facing the Future: Encouraging Critical Cartographic Literacies In Indigenous Communities. ACME: An International E-Journal for Critical Geographies 4 (1), 80–98. Kartographische Aktion (2018) Political Action Maps: Finding your Way in Demonstrations and Protests. In: Halder, S., Heyer, K. & Michel, B. et al. (eds.) This is not an atlas: A global collection of counter-cartographies. transcript, Bielefeld, pp. 72–75. Kenney, M. & Zysman, J. (2016) The Rise of the Platform Economy. Issues in Science and Technology 32 (3), 61–69. Kenney, M. & Zysman, J. (2020) The platform economy: restructuring the space of capitalist accumulation. Cambridge Journal of Regions, Economy and Society 13 (1), 55–76. Kim, A. M. (2015) Critical cartography 2.0: From “participatory mapping” to authored visualizations of power and people. Landscape and Urban Planning 142, 215–225. Kitchin, R. (2014) The real-time city? Big data and smart urbanism. GeoJournal 79 (1), 1– 14. Kitchin, R. (2018) Towards a genuinely humanizing smart urbanism. The Programmable City Working Paper 42, 1–14. Kitchin, R. & Dodge, M. (2007) Rethinking maps. Progress in Human Geography 31 (3), 331–344.
112
References
Kitchin, R., Perkins, C. & Dodge, M. (2009) Thinking about maps. In: Dodge, M., Kitchin, R. & Perkins, C. (eds.) Rethinking maps: New frontiers in cartographic theory. Routledge, London, pp. 1–25. Kühne, O. (2021) Contours of a ‘Post-Critical’ Cartography—A Contribution to the Dissemination of Sociological Cartographic Research. KN—Journal of Cartography and Geographic Information 71 (3), 133–141. Lacoste, Y. (1973) An Illustration of Geographical Warfare: Bombing the Dikes on the Red River, North Vietnam. Antipode 5 (2), 1–13. Lambea Llop, N. (2016) A policy approach to the impact of tourist dwellings in condominiums and neighbourhoods in Barcelona. Urban Research & Practice 10 (1), 120–129. Lang, S., Füreder, P. & Riedler, B. et al. (2020) Earth observation tools and services to increase the effectiveness of humanitarian assistance. European Journal of Remote Sensing 53 (sup2), 67–85. Langley, P. & Leyshon, A. (2017) Platform capitalism: The intermediation and capitalization of digital economic circulation. Finance and Society 3 (1), 11–31. Latour, B. (1987) Science in Action: How to Follow Scientists and Engineers through Society. Harvard University Press, Cambridge. Lee, A., Mackenzie, A., J. D. Smith, G. & Box, P. (2020) Mapping Platform Urbanism: Charting the Nuance of the Platform Pivot. Urban Planning 5 (1), 116–128. Lefebvre, H. (1996) Writings on Cities. Blackwell, Oxford. Leszczynski, A. (2012) Situating the geoweb in political economy. Progress in Human Geography 36 (1), 72–89. Leszczynski, A. (2014) On the Neo in Neogeography. Annals of the Association of American Geographers 104 (1), 60–79. Leszczynski, A. (2020) Glitchy vignettes of platform urbanism. Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 38 (2), 189–208. Liew, K. K. & Pang, N. (2015) Neoliberal visions, post-capitalist memories: Heritage politics and the counter-mapping of Singapore’s cityscape. Ethnography 16 (3), 331–351. Lobo, S. (2014) Auf dem Weg in die Dumpinghölle. Spiegel Online, September 03. https:// www.spiegel.de/netzwelt/netzpolitik/sascha-lobo-sharing-economy-wie-bei-uber-ist-pla ttform-kapitalismus-a-989584.html. Accessed 5/30/2022. Loizos, C. (2019) A rare glimpse into the sweeping—and potentially troubling—cloud kitchens trend. https://techcrunch.com/2019/06/28/a-rare-glimpse-into-the-sweepingand-potentially-troubling-cloud-kitchens-trend/?guccounter=1&guce_referrer=aHR0cH M6Ly93d3cuZ29vZ2xlLmNvbS8&guce_referrer_sig=AQAAAC2fDzDDvMkuIaTPa roUBV2ic_SkbMKHAufRsdm4u7Yrm3izE346l9-yfUssfhnkH5ULyHNMPIiq1yc9kV 65BKJL3L_NQ3G1Ombfn1BoS4xe7Af931Mqj8V5sg-mDLcX2sl0-Zh-oLsbhwn6R 1vFMbXnMQICLKqbOkYtsAFMnkaQ. Accessed 5/30/2022. Lucas, K. (2012) Transport and social exclusion: Where are we now? Transport Policy 20, 105–113. Lydon, M. (2003) Community Mapping: The Recovery (and Discovery) of our Common Ground. Geomatica 57 (1999–2003 Anniversary Issue—Cartography in Canada), 1–31. Maharawal, M. M. & McElroy, E. (2018) The Anti-Eviction Mapping Project: Counter Mapping and Oral History toward Bay Area Housing Justice. Annals of the American Association of Geographers 108 (2), 380–389.
References
113
Mandelbaum, R. (2018) Is Amazon Good Or Bad For Small Business? Forbes, March 31. https://www.forbes.com/sites/robbmandelbaum/2018/03/31/is-amazon-good-or-badfor-small-business-yes/?sh=2917a3a04467. Accessed 5/30/2022. Manek, J. & Ahedo, A. F. d. l. R. (2022) Psycho-geographisches Countermapping—Einsicht in Migrationshaft und andere opake Institutionen. In: Dammann, F. & Michel, B. (eds.) Handbuch Kritisches Kartieren. transcript, Bielefeld, pp. 55–70. Marinelli, A. & Parisi, S. (2020) (Smart) City and the (Open) Data. A Critical Approach to a Platform-driven Urban Citizenship. Partecipazione e conflitto 13 (2), 1168–1179. Marks, G. (2019) Mnuchin is wrong: Amazon has done more good than bad for small business. The Guardian, July 28. https://www.theguardian.com/business/2019/jul/28/ama zon-small-business-benefits. Accessed 5/30/2022. Martens, K. (2012) Justice in transport as justice in accessibility: applying Walzer’s ‘Spheres of Justice’ to the transport sector. Transportation 39 (6), 1035–1053. Martens, K. (2017) Transport Justice: Designing Fair Transportation Systems. Routledge, New York. Matchar, E. (2017) How Instagram Is Changing the Way We Design Cultural Spaces. https://www.smithsonianmag.com/innovation/how-instagram-changing-way-we-designcultural-spaces-180967071/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Mattern, S. (2013) Methodolatry and the Art of Measure: The new wave of urban data science. https://placesjournal.org/article/methodolatry-and-the-art-of-measure/#0. Accessed 5/30/2022. McNeill, D. (2015a) Global firms and smart technologies: IBM and the reduction of cities. Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 40 (4), 562–574. McNeill, D. (2015b) Global firms and smart technologies: IBM and the reduction of cities: Published by: Wiley on behalf of The Royal Geographical Society (with the Institute of British Geographers) Stable URL:. Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 40 (4), 562–574. Meece, S. (2006) A Bird’s Eye View—of a Leopard’s Spots: The Çatalhöyük ‘Map’ and the Development of Cartographic Representation in Prehistory. Anatolian Studies 56, 1–16. Milland, K. (2019) From Bottom to Top: How Amazon Mechanical Turk disrupts employment as a whole. https://brookfieldinstitute.ca/from-bottom-to-top-how-amazon-mechan ical-turk-disrupts-employment-as-a-whole/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Mitchell, S. (2021) Amazon’s Toll Road: How the Tech Giant Funds Its Monopoly Empire by Exploiting Small Businesses. Institute for Local Self-Reliance. Morgan, G. & Nelligan, P. (2018) The Creativity Hoax: Precarious Work in the Gig Economy. Anthem Press, London. Morozov, E. & Bria, F. (2018) Rethinking the smart city: Democratizing Urban Technology. Rosa Luxemburg Stiftung, New York. Moss, O. & Irving, A. (2018) Imaging Homelessness in a City of Care: Participatory Mapping with Homeless People. In: Halder, S., Heyer, K. & Michel, B. et al. (eds.) This is not an atlas: A global collection of counter-cartographies. transcript, Bielefeld, pp. 270–275. Newton, C. (2019) The Trauma Floor: The secret lives of Facebook moderators in America. The Verge, February 25. https://www.theverge.com/2019/2/25/18229714/cognizantfacebook-content-moderator-interviews-trauma-working-conditions-arizona. Accessed 5/30/2022.
114
References
Niebler, V., Altenried, M. & Pirone, M. (2020) Cities between Digital Innovation and Platform Labour. In: Giordano, V. & Scocozza, C. (eds.) Soft Power: Revista euro-americana de teoría e historia de la política y del derecho. 7(1). University of Salerno; Catholic University of Colombia, pp. 267–275. Nieuwland, S. & van Melik, R. (2020) Regulating Airbnb: how cities deal with perceived negative externalities of short-term rentals. Current Issues in Tourism 23 (7), 811–825. Nold, C. (ed.) (2009) Emotional cartography: Technologies of the self . Olma, S. (2014) Never Mind the Sharing Economy: Here’s Platform Capitalism. https://net workcultures.org/mycreativity/2014/10/16/never-mind-the-sharing-economy-heres-pla tform-capitalism/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Olmedo, É. (2018) Textile Maps: Using Sensitive Mapping for Crossovers Between Academic and Vernacular Worlds in the Sidi Yusf Working-Class Neighbourhood in Marrakech. In: Halder, S., Heyer, K. & Michel, B. et al. (eds.) This is not an atlas: A global collection of counter-cartographies. transcript, Bielefeld, pp. 264–269. On, J. (n.y.) They Rule. http://www.theyrule.net/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Orangotango (n.y.a) Map of Urban Gardens in Berlin. https://orangotango.info/map-ofurban-gardens-in-berlin/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Orangotango (n.y.b) Map: Housing Struggles in Times of the Pandemic—Brazil. https:// orangotango.info/map-housing-struggles-in-times-of-the-pandemic-brazil/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Orangotango (n.y.c) Orangotango: Kollektiv für kritische Bildung und kreativen Protest. https://orangotango.info/de/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Orangotango (2018) Gentrification, Displacement and Resistance in Kreuzberg 36. https:// orangotango.info/gentrification-displacement-and-resistance-in-kreuzberg-36/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Oskam, J. A. (2019) The Future of Airbnb and the Sharing Economy: The Collaborative Consumption of our Cities. Channel View Publications, Bristol. Pangbourne, K., Stead, D., Mladenovi´c, M. & Milakis, D. (2018) The Case of Mobility as a Service: A Critical Reflection on Challenges for Urban Transport and Mobility Governance. In: Marsden, G. & Reardon, L. (eds.) Governance of the Smart Mobility Transition. Emerald Publishing, Bingley, pp. 33–48. Paul, K. (2021) Lyft admits it recorded 4,000 sexual assault claims in long-awaited report. The Guardian, October 22. https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2021/oct/22/lyftsexual-assault-reports-uber-ridesharing. Accessed 5/30/2022. Payne, W. (2018) Crawling the City. Logic Scale (4). Peluso, N. L. (1995) Whose woods are these? Counter-mapping forest territories in Kalimantan, Indonesia. Antipode 27 (4), 383–406. Perkins, C. (2004) Cartography—cultures of mapping: power in practice. Progress in Human Geography 28 (3), 381–391. Perkins, C. (2007) Community Mapping. The Cartographic Journal 44 (2), 127–137. Peters, A. (1974) Der europa-zentrische Charakter unseres geographischen Weltbildes und seine Überwindung. Lecture on invitation of the German Society for Cartography, Berlin. Größchen-Verlag (ed.), Dortmund. Petrescu, D. (2012) Relationscapes: Mapping agencies of relational practice in architecture. City, Culture and Society 3 (2), 135–140.
References
115
Pickles, J. (ed.) (1995) Ground truth: The social implications of geographic information systems. Guilford Press, New York, London. Pickles, J. (2004) A History of Spaces: Cartographic reason, mapping and the geo-coded world. Routledge, New York, London. Plantin, J.-C., Lagoze, C., Edwards, P. N. & Sandvig, C. (2018) Infrastructure studies meet platform studies in the age of Google and Facebook. New Media & Society 20 (1), 293– 310. Pollio, A. (2016) Technologies of austerity urbanism: the “smart city” agenda in Italy (2011– 2013). Urban Geography 37 (4), 514–534. Rabari, C. & Storper, M. (2015) The digital skin of cities: urban theory and research in the age of the sensored and metered city, ubiquitous computing and big data. Cambridge Journal of Regions, Economy and Society 8, 27–42. Ramasubramanian, L. (2015) Engaging vulnerable populations using participatory mapping: Lessons learned and guidelines for community advocates and transportation planners. URISA Journal 26 (2), 25–32. Rauch, D. E. & Schleicher, D. (2015) Like Uber, But For Local Government Policy: The Future of Local Regulation of the “Shared Economy”. George Mason Law & Economics Research Paper 15 (1). Rekacewicz, P. (2021) Radical Cartography: Between science and Politics, the art of making visible what the world hides from us. In: Schranz, C. (ed.) Shifts in Mapping: Maps as a Tool of Knowledge. transcript, Bielefeld, pp. 209–232. Richardson, L. (2020) Coordinating the city: platforms as flexible spatial arrangements. Urban Geography 41 (3), 458–461. Riemens, R., Nast, C., Pelzer, P. & van den Hurk, M. (2021) An assessment framework for safeguarding public values on mobility platforms. Urban transformations 3 (7), 1–26. Risler, J. (2016) Manual of collective mapping: Critical cartographic resources for territorial processes of collaborative creation. Iconoclasistas. Robinson, A. H. (1952) The Look of Maps: An Examination of Cartographic Design. University of Wisconsin Press, Madison. Robinson, R. (2016) Why Smart Cities still aren’t working for us after 20 years. And how we can fix them. https://theurbantechnologist.com/2016/02/01/why-smart-cities-still-arentworking-for-us-after-20-years-and-how-we-can-fix-them/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Rodgers, S. & Moore, S. (2018) Platform Urbanism: An Introduction. Mediapolis 4 (3). Rossi, U. (2019) The common-seekers: Capturing and reclaiming value in the platform metropolis. Environment and Planning C: Politics and Space 37 (8), 1418–1433. Rudra, S. (2020) E-commerce Surge Drives Growth of Last-Mile Fulfillment Centers, Dark Stores: Retailers’ and Grocers’ Last-Mile Logistics Needs Spark New Investment Criteria. https://www.loopnet.com/learn/e-commerce-surge-drives-growth-of-lastmile-fulfillment-centers-dark-stores/35384053/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Sadowski, J. (2019) When data is capital: Datafication, accumulation, and extraction. Big Data & Society 6 (1), 205395171882054. Sadowski, J. (2020) Cyberspace and cityscapes: on the emergence of platform urbanism. Urban Geography 41 (3), 448–452. Sainato, M. (2021) ‘A race to the bottom’: Google temps are fighting a two-tier labor system. The Guardian, September 24. https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2021/sep/24/goo gle-temps-fighting-two-tier-labor-system. Accessed 5/30/2022.
116
References
Scholz, T. (2016) Platform Cooperativism: Challenging the Corporate Sharing economy. Rosa Luxemburg Stiftung, New York. Schor, J. (2014) Debating the Sharing Economy. Great Transition Initiative. http://greattran sition.org/publication/debating-the-sharing-economy. Accessed 5/30/2022. Schranz, C. (2021) Introduction to the essay section. Shifts in Mapping—Two Concepts which have Changed the World View. In: Schranz, C. (ed.) Shifts in Mapping: Maps as a Tool of Knowledge. transcript, Bielefeld, pp. 21–38. Schwarz, J. A. (2017) Platform Logic: An Interdisciplinary Approach to the Platform-Based Economy. Policy & Internet 9 (4), 374–394. Schweizer, P., Halder, S. & Virchow, L. (2022) Kollektive kritische Kartierungen auf Papier, Pappe und Beton—kartographische Aktionsforschungen zwischen aktivistischer Praxis und geographischer Reflexion. In: Dammann, F. & Michel, B. (eds.) Handbuch Kritisches Kartieren. transcript, Bielefeld, pp. 25–36. Shapiro, A. (2022) Platform urbanism in a pandemic: Dark stores, ghost kitchens, and the logistical-urban frontier. Journal of Consumer Culture 0 (0), 1–20. Shelton, T., Zook, M. & Wiig, A. (2015) The ‘actually existing smart city’. Cambridge Journal of Regions, Economy and Society 8, 13–25. Sletto, B. (2020) Introduction Radical Social Cartographies. In: Almeida, A. W. B. de, Sletto, B., Hale, C. R. & Bryan, J. H. (eds.) Radical cartographies: Participatory mapmaking from Latin America. University of Texas Press, Austin, pp. 1–16. Söderström, O. & Mermet, A.-C. (2020) When Airbnb Sits in the Control Room: Platform Urbanism as Actually Existing Smart Urbanism in Reykjavík. Frontiers in Sustainable Cities 2 (15), 1–7. Söderström, O., Paasche, T. & Klauser, F. (2014) Smart cities as corporate storytelling. City analysis of urban trends, culture, theory, policy, action 18 (3), 307–320. Soja, E. W. (2010) Seeking spatial justice. University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis. Srnicek, N. (2017) Platform capitalism. Polity, Cambridge, Malden. Srnicek, N. (2019) Rethink the smart city. https://www.barcelona.cat/metropolis/en/contents/ rethink-smart-city. Accessed 5/30/2022. Stehlin, J., Hodson, M. & McMeekin, A. (2020) Platform mobilities and the production of urban space: Toward a typology of platformization trajectories. Environment and Planning A: Economy and Space 52 (7), 1250–1268. Stollmann, J., Wolf, K. & Brück, A. et al. (eds.) (2015) Beware of smart people! Redefining the smart city paradigm towards inclusive urbanism. Symposium Proceedings. University Press TU, Berlin. Such-Devesa, M. J., Ramón-Rodríguez, A., Aranda-Cuéllar, P. & Cabrera, A. (2021) Airbnb and Overtourism: An Approach to a Social Sustainable Model Using Big Data. In: Balsalobre-Lorente, D., Driha, O. M. & Shahbaz, M. (eds.) Strategies in Sustainable Tourism, Economic Growth and Clean Energy. Springer, Cham, pp. 211–233. Taylor, K. H. & Hall, R. (2013) Counter-Mapping the Neighborhood on Bicycles: Mobilizing Youth to Reimagine the City. Technology, Knowledge and Learning 18, 65–93. Thatcher, J., Bergmann, L. & Ricker, B. et al. (2016) Revisiting critical GIS. Environment and Planning A: Economy and Space 48 (5), 815–824. Ticona, J. & Mateescu, A. (2018) Trusted strangers: Carework platforms’ cultural entrepreneurship in the on-demand economy. New Media & Society 20 (11), 4384–4404.
References
117
Trivellato, B. (2017) How can ‘smart’ also be socially sustainable? Insights from the case of Milan. European Urban and Regional Studies 24 (4), 337–351. Turner, A. J. (2006) Introduction to Neogeography. O’Reilly Media, Sebastopol. Unger, H. von (2014) Partizipative Forschung: Einführung in die Forschungspraxis. Springer, Wiesbaden. Valparaíso, C., Varas, P. E. & Loyola, J. L. (n.y.) Making Cartographies of Ourselves. https:// notanatlas.org/maps/making-cartographies-of-ourselves/#. Accessed 5/30/2022. van der Vlist, F. N. (2017) Counter-Mapping Surveillance: A Critical Cartography of Mass Surveillance Technology After Snowden. Surveillance & Society 15 (1), 137–157. van Dijck, J., Poell, T. & Waal, M. de (2018) The Platform Society: Public values in a connective world. Oxford University Press, New York. van Doorn, N. (2017) Platform labor: on the gendered and racialized exploitation of lowincome service work in the ‘on-demand’ economy. Information, Communication & Society 20 (6), 898–914. Verrest, H. & Pfeffer, K. (2019) Elaborating the urbanism in smart urbanism: distilling relevant dimensions for a comprehensive analysis of Smart City approaches. Information, Communication & Society 22 (9), 1328–1342. Vilaseca, S. L. (2014) The 15-M movement: formed by and formative of counter-mapping and spatial activism. Journal of Spanish Cultural Studies 15 (1–2), 119–139. Waag Society & Polak, E. (n.y.) Amsterdam Realtime. http://realtime.waag.org/en_index. html. Accessed 5/30/2022. Wachsmuth, D. & Weisler, A. (2018) Airbnb and the rent gap: Gentrification through the sharing economy. Environment and Planning A: Economy and Space 50 (6), 1147–1170. Wagner, J. R. (2021) Circulating value: convergences of datafication, financialization, and urbanization. Urban Transformations 3 (4). Webster, N. A. & Zhang, Q. (2021) Centering social-technical relations in studying platform urbanism: intersectionality for just futures in European cities. Urban Transformations 3 (10), 1–7. Wilson, M. W. & Graham, M. (2013) Situating Neogeography. Environment and Planning A: Economy and Space 45, 3–9. Wolodtschenko, A. & Forner, T. (2007) Prehistoric and Early Historic Maps in Europe: Conception of Cd-Atlas. e-Perimetron 2 (2), 114–116. Wood, D. (1992) The Power of Maps. Guilford Press, New York, London. Wood, D. (2010) Rethinking the power of maps. Guilford Press, New York. Wood, D. (2014) Maps, Art, Power. Espaço e Cultura (36), 9–33. Woodcock, J. & Graham, M. (2020) The Gig Economy A Critical Introduction. Polity Press, Newark. Yau, N. (2014) Where People Run in Major Cities. https://flowingdata.com/2014/02/05/ where-people-run/. Accessed 5/30/2022. Zuboff, S. (2019) The age of surveillance capitalism: The fight for a human future at the new frontier of power. Profile Books, London. Zukin, S., Lindeman, S. & Hurson, L. (2017) The omnivore’s neighborhood? Online restaurant reviews, race, and gentrification. Journal of Consumer Culture 17 (3), 459–479.