Commonwealth Games, a failure of "just-in-time" planning

Delhi debacle is a warning to urban planners.

Through the 1980s and 1990s, businesses across the world experimented with a system of product assembly known as "just-in-time" production. By sourcing parts "just-in-time" for their final assembly, these companies were able to cut inventory costs, leading to leaner, more competitive industry.

Cities competing for global investments have been experimenting recently with a model of what we might call "just-in-time" planning, a process in which decisions are made at the last minute, or in extreme instances, when projects have already begun.

The Commonwealth Games debacle is an example of this 'just-in-time' planning.

Over the past decade, Delhi -- which hosts the Games as they open today -- has been one big construction site, with billions of dollars each year pouring into new roads, shopping malls, apartments and now the Commonwealth Games. Yet, with a conspicuous absence of maps, figures, and other records of land use - once considered standard tools of urban planning - it is impossible to keep track of this urban change.

In 2006, I asked a top planner in the Delhi Government what method he used to survey the city for the newly updated master plan. He replied, "We didn't do a survey. Well, we did a 'windshield survey': I sent some engineers out in cars and had them look [around]... We know what needs to be done without having to survey. We know what a world-class city should look like."

In the excitement about Delhi's self-proclaimed transformation into a "world-class city", planning has come to mean facilitating developments that contribute to an imagined "world-class" future, even if they violate existing laws. As long as these projects appear "world-class", the government is rarely questioned: everyone understands that 'world-class' deadlines do not wait for debate.

"Just-in-time" planning creates ambiguity regarding how land can be used. Planners can now weigh up the advantages of, for example, placing a school or a shopping mall on the same lot. While educators wait patiently for a school to be approved, government planners can always hold out in case a private developer presents a more compelling proposal. In terms of local government revenue and macroeconomics, the private developer makes more sense. Indian economic growth depends disproportionately on investment -- according to the Indian Government, it was responsible for 40 per cent of GDP growth in 2007 (in the UK it was only 18 per cent). Sustaining growth therefore requires continually presenting favourable investment opportunities.

In theory most policies and laws in India prevent projects that are outside the public interest, but the "just-in-time" approach allows planners to exceed the limits of their own regulations.

By launching projects before any semblance of regulatory oversight begins, they can use the urgency of the deadline to overcome rules and sanctions. The decision on where to locate the Commonwealth Games Village is a clear example of this. In 2004, the Supreme Court of India ordered the demolition of the homes of more than 150,000 slum residents for occupying the ecologically fragile Yamuna River floodplain.

Soon after this environmental precedent was set, the Delhi Development Authority (DDA) decided to build the Commonwealth Games Village on the Yamuna just downstream from the demolished slums. Two DDA-commissioned scientific studies found its proposal 'unviable' with potentially 'catastrophic consequences' for the floodplain. But, by the time the DDA sought government approval, construction was already underway.

When a court case challenging the construction was finally heard in 2008, the Supreme Court noted the need to complete the Village in time for the 2010 Games and claimed, contrary to evidence, that 'the Commonwealth Games Village site is not on a riverbed or the floodplain.'

Under the logic of "just-in-time" planning, the urgency of becoming world-class allows political leaders and planners to invoke exceptional powers, requiring exceptional sacrifice from the public and exceptional investment by the state.

It is on this basis that money for healthcare and education is diverted to bankroll bridge-building and the most expensive Commonwealth Games ever. It is also on this basis that Commonwealth Game workers are paid below minimum wage, multi-generational slums are demolished and illegal malls approved.

The Commonwealth Games crisis does not signal an absence of planning, as most commentators have noted. Instead, it is a symptom of an ad-hoc mode of planning, which extends the state's powers. Like businesses experimenting with 'lean' and flexible inventories in the past, cities around the world have adopted lean and flexible planning to gain competitive advantage.

As the images of unprotected Commonwealth Games workers on 12-hour shifts show, "just-in-time" is not always time enough.

Dr. Asher Ghertner has been researching urbanization in India for the past six years and is Lecturer in the Department of Geography and Environment at the London School of Economics.

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MP Michelle Thomson's full speech on rape at 14: "I am a survivor"

The MP was attacked as a teenager. 

On Thursday, the independent MP for Edinburgh West Michelle Thomson used a debate marking the UN’s International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women to describe her own experience of rape. Thomson, 51, said she wanted to break the taboo among her generation about speaking about the subject.

MPs listening were visibly moved by the speech, and afterwards Thomson tweeted she was "overwhelmed" by the response. 

Here is her speech in full:

I am going to relay an event that happened to me many years ago. I want to give a very personal perspective to help people, both in this place and outside, understand one element of sexual violence against women.

When I was 14, I was raped. As is common, it was by somebody who was known to me. He had offered to walk me home from a youth event. In those days, everybody walked everywhere - it was quite common. It was early evening. It was not dark. I was wearing— I am imagining and guessing—jeans and a sweatshirt. I knew my way around where I lived - I was very comfortable - and we went a slightly differently way, but I did not think anything of it. He told me that he wanted to show me something in a wooded area. At that point, I must admit that I was alarmed. I did have a warning bell, but I overrode that warning bell because I knew him and, therefore, there was a level of trust in place. To be honest, looking back at that point, I do not think I knew what rape was. It was not something that was talked about. My mother never talked to me about it, and I did not hear other girls or women talking about it.

It was mercifully quick and I remember first of all feeling surprise, then fear, then horror as I realised that I quite simply could not escape, because obviously he was stronger than me. There was no sense, even initially, of any sexual desire from him, which, looking back again, I suppose I find odd. My senses were absolutely numbed, and thinking about it now, 37 years later, I cannot remember hearing anything when I replay it in my mind. As a former professional musician who is very auditory, I find that quite telling. I now understand that your subconscious brain—not your conscious brain—decides on your behalf how you should respond: whether you take flight, whether you fight or whether you freeze. And I froze, I must be honest.

Afterwards I walked home alone. I was crying, I was cold and I was shivering. I now realise, of course, that that was the shock response. I did not tell my mother. I did not tell my father. I did not tell my friends. And I did not tell the police. I bottled it all up inside me. I hoped briefly—and appallingly—that I might be pregnant so that that would force a situation to help me control it. Of course, without support, the capacity and resources that I had within me to process it were very limited.

I was very ashamed. I was ashamed that I had “allowed this to happen to me”. I had a whole range of internal conversations: “I should have known. Why did I go that way? Why did I walk home with him? Why didn’t I understand the danger? I deserved it because I was too this, too that.” I felt that I was spoiled and impure, and I really felt revulsion towards myself.

Of course, I detached from the child that I had been up until then. Although in reality, at the age of 14, that was probably the start of my sexual awakening, at that time, remembering back, sex was “something that men did to women”, and perhaps this incident reinforced that early belief.​
I briefly sought favour elsewhere and I now understand that even a brief period of hypersexuality is about trying to make sense of an incident and reframing the most intimate of acts. My oldest friends, with whom I am still friends, must have sensed a change in me, but because I never told them they did not know of the cause. I allowed myself to drift away from them for quite a few years. Indeed, I found myself taking time off school and staying at home on my own, listening to music and reading and so on.

I did have a boyfriend in the later years of school and he was very supportive when I told him about it, but I could not make sense of my response - and it is my response that gives weight to the event. I carried that guilt, anger, fear, sadness and bitterness for years.

When I got married 12 years later, I felt that I had a duty tell my husband. I wanted him to understand why there was this swaddled kernel of extreme emotion at the very heart of me, which I knew he could sense. But for many years I simply could not say the words without crying—I could not say the words. It was only in my mid-40s that I took some steps to go and get help.

It had a huge effect on me and it fundamentally - and fatally - undermined my self-esteem, my confidence and my sense of self-worth. Despite this, I am blessed in my life: I have been happily married for 25 years. But if this was the effect of one small, albeit significant, event in my life stage, how must it be for those women who are carrying it on a day-by-day basis?

I thought carefully about whether I should speak about this today, and it was people’s intake of breath and the comment, “What? You’re going to talk about this?”, that motivated me to do it, because there is still a taboo about sharing this kind of information. Certainly for people of my generation, it is truly shocking to talk in public about this sort of thing.

As has been said, rape does not just affect the woman; it affects the family as well. Before my mother died early of cancer, I really wanted to tell her, but I could not bring myself to do it. I have a daughter and if something happened to her and she could not share it with me, I would be appalled. It was possibly cowardly, but it was an act of love that meant that I protected my mother.

As an adult, of course I now know that rape is not about sex at all - it is all about power and control, and it is a crime of violence. I still pick up on when the myths of rape are perpetuated form a male perspective: “Surely you could have fought him off. Did you scream loudly enough?” And the suggestion by some men that a woman is giving subtle hints or is making it up is outrageous. Those assumptions put the woman at the heart of cause, when she should be at the heart of effect. A rape happens when a man makes a decision to hurt someone he feels he can control. Rapes happen because of the rapist, not because of the victim.

We women in our society have to stand up for each other. We have to be courageous. We have to call things out and say where things are wrong. We have to support and nurture our sisters as we do with our sons. Like many women of my age, I have on occasion encountered other aggressive actions towards me, both in business and in politics. But one thing that I realise now is that I am not scared and he was. I am not scared. I am not a victim. I am a survivor.

Julia Rampen is the editor of The Staggers, The New Statesman's online rolling politics blog. She was previously deputy editor at Mirror Money Online and has worked as a financial journalist for several trade magazines.