Gordon Kanki Knight calls for more cyclists on the road. Photo by Hans Park.

Fixed

The archaic meaning of a hobby is a velocipede, an early form of a bicycle. A hobby on the other hand is traditionally an activity done for pleasure, restricted to one’s spare time. However, today, it is not impossible to perceive one’s profession as a hobby either.

When I moved to Tokyo I challenged myself to commit to two things; to stay away (as much as possible) from the formal energy grid and to shop with care. One particular purchase has been in line with my commitments: the bicycle. Not only was it a sensible buy but it makes me happy and keeps me fit. Into the bargain, I got myself a new hobby in a widening community of enthusiasts, specialists and shop owners.

I met Gordon Kanki Knight early on after my move to Tokyo. He encouraged me to start cycling in the city with a proper bicycle, a fixed gear one. Kanki Knight is a Tokyo-based journalist as well as a former track racing cyclist. In Tokyo, he still pedals on a frame he got when he was 16.

Urban mobility in Tokyo.

Responsibility

I went pedalling with Kanki Knight around Tokyo looking for cycling paths with little success. In addition to here, Kanki Knight has lived and cycled in his native Australia and in London and claims that cycling is a cultural thing. The attitudes of cyclists and the attitudes towards cyclists vary. Bicycles in Japan are traditionally not seen as a vehicle but as a form of fast walking. This is partly why so many people opt out for cheap bikes and ride on footpaths. “Motorists in Tokyo are however fairly careful and pedestrians patient compared to other big cities making it a convenient place for cycling despite the lack of cycling paths,” he says.

While thinking that cyclists should be provided with better access to pathways and convenient parking, Kanki Knight also believes that part of the responsibility to create a smooth traffic flow lies in cyclists reading the traffic. On the other hand, there also needs to be a greater understanding from drivers who often see no place for cyclists on the road. What they don’t tend to realise is that bicycles actually equate to less cars in their way. Kanki Knight calls for more cyclists to ride among the cars (as they in many cases are legally obliged to do) in order to improve drivers’ awareness. “Cyclists are marginalised in this country because they marginalise themselves on the footpath,” he says.

Cities that implement strategic cycling paths will help citizens choose a practical vehicle and an ecological and healthy alternative to urban mobility in a warming globe. More than that, what I ultimately like about cycling in Tokyo is that I can choose my route, my pace and do it in a way that matches or even exceeds the convenience and speed of trains and buses. Everyday cycling is a hobby which improves the quality of life in a busy city like Tokyo.

Lessons learned is a series of writings by Hans Park depicting the life of a Tokyo architect. The part five of the series discusses systems of transport, suggesting an egalitarian approach to traffic design.

A Tokyo transport system.

Safe

Shinjuku station in Tokyo is the busiest train station in the world. Around 500 people per second step out on to the station’s 30-or-so platforms. Little less than 4 million commuters visit the station on a regular day, millions more during busier ones. It is one of the most impressive buildings in the city stretching so far that it barely ends before the next station begins. The station is a major crossing point for people coming in and thus a natural place to meet a friend visiting the city.

My friend works for Handicap International in Vientiane, Laos with issues such as road safety and awareness on disabilities. The link between road safety and disabilities is clear but extending it to human rights issues only occured to me when I realised that the disabled are by far the largest minority group in the world.

A few weeks after meeting my friend in Shinjuku I landed in rainy Hanoi for business and on my way from the airport to the hotel there was an accident causing congestion. As my taxi slowed down I took a glimpse of the accident scene and saw a man lying motionless on the tarmac, next to his scooter. Tokyoites might be terrified by the chaotic traffic in Hanoi and its evident risks. On the other hand, it hit me that road safety is a relative yet an universal issue – Tokyoites hardly ever wear seat belts at the back. The perception of risk is cultural and personal which makes it complicated to build and advocate for safe cities.

Better road safety can also increase positive opportunities in cities. In most places the immediate challenge to act for better roads or alternative ways of transport lies, however, in getting the official authority on board. The Ministry of Transportation decides on where and how people move and the police controls the roads. Unfortunately, both institutions are often corrupt for various reasons. The first tends to team up with big businesses while the other one struggles with low wages which motorists usually top up to avoid penalties. They are normally not accustomed to looking at systems of transport from an egalitarian point of view.

Moving people.

Equality

Lack of access to affordable and safe transportation creates inequality in cities that rob people of time and opportunities. In terms of planning, mobility and the volume of traffic are the key issue discussed at any kick-off design meeting for a new city. Main traffic arteries are planned long before buildings, crossings or public parks. Sometimes, traffic planning still turns out a bad urban design element disconnecting people from the city.

So, how do we design versatile traffic systems that meet the challenges of a changing landscape of mobility, creating opportunities rather than threats for all citizens. I suggest we view transportation from an egalitarian point of view, rather than from a practical one. After all, it is mobility, from cycle lanes to international airspace, that is at the centre of defining cities and the quality of life in them. Not only will transportation be increasingly synonymous with ecological development but with human rights and well-being.

Learning from Shinjuku, we could view the challenge of moving people as an opportunity to make places that bring people, trade and lifestyles together. Shinjuku demonstrates that one complex can in a day host and transfer the entire population of Finland to their desired destinations, safely, profitably and effectively. It shows how density, diversity and congestion can work as incentives for building better and more equal cities.

"I never have time to laze around."

Experiencing it

I have recently grown an interest towards social change, and not only exploring it but also delivering it and promoting it as a source for personal development and a tool against boredom. In Asia, observing change is effortless when looking at speedy economic and urban development. However, change in social attitudes lags behind. Meanwhile, somewhere else the development of egalitarian social attitudes flourishes while urban development remains stagnant. Why is this?

In places, communities and nations where the collective memory and the experience of change are fresh, it is easier to find the fringes that will grow to challenge the status quo. These communities are probably also good at putting a handle on change as a tangible activity suited for their needs, visions and hopes.

The question is, why are some communities better at seeking change, producing it and adapting to it while others stand still. The communities which understand the value of change are also likely to understand that the engine for change can be anyone. It can be started up by anything. Change is not an inherited talent – it needs to be practiced, experienced and developed for it to find its place in a society.

No, we can’t

Many never experience positive change. People live in the margins of society, belong to discriminated communities or fall into a category that does not generate enough representation for their voices to be heard. In places where voting is not enough to achieve a better future, other public-based mechanisms need to be discovered. The question remains if there is a way to bypass government, special interest think tanks and the media to create change.

In January, shortly after Barack Obama took office, I gathered with friends in Tokyo for dinner ending up in a conversation on the seemingly impossible notion of positive and enduring change in Japan. The general opinion was that there is little or no hope for social change here, and that pursuing change is pointless. No, we can’t, we chanted. In the midst of optimism for change in America there was something relieving in admitting powerlessness in this part of the world and approaching change through negation.

Early 2009 Tokyo launched its now unsuccessful Olympic Games 2016 bid with its Japanese slogan ‘Because of Japan, we can’ (Nihon dakara dekiru). However, for us, ‘Because of Japan, we can’t’ (Nihon dakara dekimasen) seemed more appropriate and inspirational. And with these ingredients and the decision to dig deeper into the local inability for change, the Dekimasen project was born.

Finding it difficult to envision what Dekimasen could turn into we asked people about the areas in which they feel they have no voice or no power to bring about positive change for themselves or in the society. The common reply to the question was ‘I don’t know’ but with more time for contemplation the answers grew personal, diverse and interesting. The round of interviews with people triggered the idea to document and share topics or issues that the public finds difficult to overcome in Japan.

The Dekimasen project is an exercise to create change in a place that rarely sees it. Starting by looking for clues and keys to systemic ways of gathering information and voices of the public for the public we try to create a categorised ‘database of voices’. This will hopefully open doors for more ideas and conversations that lead to a future of many positive changes. Perhaps one day we can.

Passion and hardship.

To all hours

In a standard month I work from around 160 to 200 hours. In rare cases I work about 100 hours overtime on top of my standard hours. Compared to my designer peers in Tokyo my working hours are considered modest, sometimes even grinned as European. It is not unusual that architects, interior designers and graphic designers in this part of the world work more than 280 hours a month without receiving substantial benefits or compensation. Some survive hardship with passion, others see passion disappear in hardship.

How hardship is tolerated is difficult to understand when social agreements workers have with their families, friends and the society at large are unfamiliar to me. To understand the logic of hard work however I looked into the effectiveness (producing the desired results) and the efficiency of work (actions to achieve the goals). I found two general notions that in my opinion illustrate reasons for unnecessary hard work; the Peter Principle and the Parkinson Law. One describes that the complacent system of promotion results in people reaching their level of incompetence at a certain point of the corporate ladder. The other one explains that work always expands to fill the time available for its completion.

Firstly, in practice this means that producing desired results with an assigned leader who has not realised his potential as leader, or is incompetent in his job, is difficult. The solution for the problem in Peter Principle could be that promotion based purely on seniority and nominal experience should be rethought with leadership training and inclusion of rules at workplaces where promotion is not the only pattern for advancement and appreciation. Secondly, actions to achieve goals are equally difficult if only one work pattern is assigned to various types of project schedules. Usually more time is required (and desired) in a project because the given framework does not fit into the single idea of how work should be completed. This leads to longer hours at work because there are no alternative ideas on how to finish different types of jobs. Having more time does not necessarily make a difference and therefore if work is prioritised and rationalised with a specific completion plan, busy schedules may seem less taxing.

Take a personal day.

Personal day

Japan has one of the largest number of national holidays in the world. Bank holidays are usually paired with Sundays creating long weekends spread evenly across the year. In Tokyo, the notion of too much work is no doubt accurate but holidays are as serious a business. I learned to champion the scattered yearly holiday landscape by changing my notion of what a holiday is. I am used to few but long chunks of vacation time for full charge ups. Also, I was used to shorter working hours that compensated for less bank holidays. Here, short holidays that are frequently coupled with longer working days create fragility but hard work is compensated with an idea that it does not last forever. A day off is always around the corner making hardship mentally more tolerable.

A convenient weekend vacation destination for me is Seoul as it is close to Tokyo and requires no time difference adjustments. Seoul, where I am currently writing from, offers relaxing environs where I am tucked away at a homely neighbourhood amongst people with whom I feel at ease. The moment I step outside my home, however, I see income gaps getting noticeably bigger together with fiercer battles over job and education opportunities. Even worse, I learned that the highest number of teenage suicides are committed in Korea due to stressful school life and societal pressures put on children. Acceptance of busy, cruel and even deadly working conditions exist because few have palpable action plans for change and many are afraid of losing their jobs, financial stability and status. Therefore work, and its opposite vacation, are topics that need to be seriously discussed in every corner of society. This will help designers, architects and anyone for that matter to build better plans for a more desirable future. I suggest we take a personal day to think things over.

My favourite Japanese holidays

Greenery Day, May 4
Respect-for-the-Aged Day, Third Monday of July
Health and Sports Day, Second Monday of October
The Emperor’s Birthday, December 23

Lessons learned is a series of writings by Hans Park depicting the life of a Tokyo architect. The part two of the series deals with people and places. Born to Korean parents in Stockholm, Hans’ personal history in places stretches from Finnish Lapland to Helsinki and Nairobi where he worked for the United Nations Human Settlements Programme before making Japan his home.

People making a place.

Shanghai

I worked one Saturday night in Shanghai to visit a computer graphics (CG) office which is the outsourcer of our outsourcer. I visited the CG office together with our office assistant and the director of our subcontractor. Our task that weekend was to oversee that the images produced for the 650 hectare urban planning project looked good and presentable for the local city council.

At the CG office I met with young people working on various unbuilt Chinese cities, constructing complexes, high rise towers and landscapes. It was a bizarre but fascinating place and truly an epitome of the modern society in the making. The people working there, crafters of 3D software and image manipulation, were quick, sharp and tired chain-smokers. The company we sometimes directly appoint to do our architectural renderings work in day and night shifts and operate from different locations. The 3D modelling and project management is done in Shenzen and the rendering and photoshopping in Beijing. This particular Shanghai CG company however did everything in one place making it easier for us to comment on the work due to an unusually tight schedule.

I made some comments on produced images and was told that it would take an hour or so to make the changes to the final renderings. Our office assistant, the director and I left for dinner while waiting for the results. The dinner ended up being a heated discussion over the future of Chinese cities. The director, a couple of years younger than me, started his practice with friends while studying architecture in Shanghai. Their company partners with big global architecture practices for extra large urban assignments as well as runs its own projects in China.

He explained to me the fundamentals of city planning in China emphasising that they are currently at the early stages of urbanisation. “First we will build eastern, then central and finally western China”, the director claimed. Building will take a lifetime he added when I wondered for how long China could go on building cities at the current pace.

Done!

I have only seen a fraction of urban planning processes in China yet have realised some key issues that come with the speed of building and the urgency to facilitate urbanisation. The speed leaves us with urban solutions and rules that cannot be agreed upon with the public. They are created and decided on the go, leaving little time to contemplate and benchmark the types of cities suitable for the early 21st century Asia. The speed and the volume of building shifts power. Those who are in power and who set the tone for urban design and discourse on urban issues regarding planning and design are not the world class architects and urban researchers but the middle class designers representing big, powerful and global practices. What the best architects and their bureaus represent today is a point of quick references and sources of inspiration (and plagiarism) for the generic practices busy coming up with new design ideas.

Helsinki

For the first time in my life this summer I visited Finland as a vacation destination to attend two weddings. I learned that friends sharing happy and important moments is an incredible thing and organising a wedding party needs great vision and great attention to detail. I found it incredibly reassuring that both wedding parties I attended relied so much on the guests. A party planned with an iron fist will kill the mood. A wedding with no plans is not a wedding. And so, from this I drew three conclusions. First I concluded that to organise and execute something like a wedding party is like running an organisation. Second, the role model to run an organisation should be the mother overseeing her child’s wedding. Why is this? I think mothers are usually excellent multi-taskers distributing work with care, following up on issues and they are respected across age groups and cultures, all qualities you want in a manager. Lastly, and probably most importantly the clue for a successful wedding or an organisation are the people.

People will participate and make an effort as long as the key issues are planned for them; be it fun seating arrangements, enough food and drinks at a wedding party or a right to a sick leave at work. With a bit of direction and room for flexibility and a healthy focus on people as the most important asset, the set is clear for an unforgettable wedding party or an organisation. Easier said than done, but definitely worth a try, I say.

On Failure

Introduction to the crisis

As a foreigner working in Japan, a career crisis can develop rapidly and hit deep. It hit me a month after starting work, and was triggered during the first company meeting where a new staff evaluation system was introduced. This system was to help managers define salary levels and other things related to one’s employment. During the Q&A part of the meeting, I asked how the management and the superiors would be evaluated in return – there was a long, deliberate silence. The head honchos are not keen on dialogue about their performance, it seemed. Applying my experiences on management to the whole of Japan’s corporate leadership would be highly unmerited and ridiculous. However, the quick development of my career crisis could be rooted in cultural differences, especially one of them having to do with recognising the acceptable modes of dialogue.

Adding to the crisis is my lack of confidence towards architects actually adding value to future cities built in parts of Africa, the Middle East and South East Asia. It is not that new cities with generic towers and shopping malls on uninhabited land should not be built at all. However, powerful architectural practices in the emerging markets push to accommodate urbanisation with a set of ideas and skills that originate in the last century. So far, architects have only increased their capacity to produce faster not better. Crisis much?

So, what is it that you do Hans?

I was happy to be invited to a fancy dinner and networking event where everybody who is anybody in the Tokyo art world was present. After the last dish was served the floor was open for discussion, mingling and a spontaneous a cappella music performance. People were having a good time chatting and laughing. I tried to fit in. A big mistake.

As common as it is today, and certainly so in Japan, one man asked me what it is that I do. I thought I was prepared for this question only to realise that I was not. After a year of struggling with a career crisis, it felt like the definitive question. So, there I was – lost and confused rather than convinced of what I do and more so, what I aspire to do. The question was posed by the TED Tokyo curator who, after listening to my twittery answer, checked the time and decided to walk away mid-talk to speak with more interesting people. The walk-away made me feel pathetic so I left the party.

Ironically, I found comfort in Alain de Botton and his recent TED talk where he eloquently describes the ‘What is it you do?’ question as the iconic question of the early 21st century; a deal breaker that will define you as either interesting or simply boring. Alain de Botton’s nervous-paced TED talk is nurturing and sensible, and I wish I had seen it before the art party. In his talk, Alain de Botton touches issues regarding a society where people are defined by accomplishments and nothing else.

Thanks to de Botton, I found myself a bit more at ease with failure, the career crisis and the iconic question. I learned that the best way to survive situations where one is surrounded by interesting people is to talk less and observe more. I guess in the future I should not engage in the iconic question but rather return it quickly, before getting out of depth, at least to have a chance to come out of the conversation in one piece.