Progress in undertaking comparative transdisciplinary co-production

All international comparative urban research is complex and challenging. Hence, attempting to undertake it in countries situated in different regions, particularly bearing in mind the many structural differences and inequalities between the global North and South (as very loose and diverse categories), adds another challenge since relative priorities may differ considerably. For example, in relation to food supply and security, reducing obstacles for informal urban and peri-urban producers and retailers and dealing with the implications of supermarketisation are priority issues in the Southern countries where Mistra Urban Futures has city platforms, whereas the priority issues in the Northern countries centre on enhancing local production of healthy food and reducing the consumption of unhealthy foods, as well as cutting transportation distances and hence food miles and associated emissions.

The challenges are amplified when the global comparative research is undertaken using transdisciplinary co-production (used in this book as a short-hand term that includes co-design and co-creation) rather than conventional academic research teams that to a greater or lesser extent share epistemological and methodological understandings, despite often profound differences between disciplines and in institutional, resourcing and local contextual circumstances, practices and power relations. As reflected in the preceding chapters assessing the pioneering efforts in this regard, transdisciplinary co-production teams seeking to compare locally defined and appropriate projects and research processes within the same research theme in each participating Local Interaction Platform (LIP) face several additional internal and external challenges. Some of these reflect the locally specific nature of transdisciplinarity in each LIP, while others pertain to possible differences in the numbers of partners undertaking the co-production, the particular methods used, differences in the nature of the respective empirical projects, and both interpersonal and interinstitutional power differentials within and across the respective research teams. This does not nullify the value of such comparative research or imply that the challenges outweigh the benefits of such endeavours. Rather, it merely requires a different approach, focusing on making explicit and understanding the different perspectives and methodologies in different contexts, and incorporating them into the respective research processes and outputs. The respective chapter author teams have reflected on these issues in order to add richness to their accounts and provide guidance to others who might attempt such research in future.

The many dimensions of diversity addressed in all the research projects and initiatives reported here preclude simplistic generalisation by way of conclusions. Indeed, that would do nobody any favours. Instead, in the spirit of Mistra Urban Futures’ transdisciplinary comparative working ethos, we seek to extend current research boundaries by exploring how far it is meaningful to generalise in identifying principles and guidelines of good practice as part of the research legacy. Hence, in attempting to distil the current state of play from the diverse experiences encapsulated in the research reported in this volume, we conclude in the final section by suggesting five distinct but overlapping categories of challenge and opportunity in undertaking comparative urban transdisciplinary co-production research, comprising various combinations of internal and external elements. First, however, we synthesise the principal findings and key messages emerging from the respective chapters and the categories of comparative research reflected on in each of them, and how they relate to our strategic objective of promoting equitable and sustainable cities through the Realising Just Cities framework.

Key messages from the comparative projects

In keeping with the approach adopted throughout the book, we focus here on the methodological rather than empirical findings that emerged in the chapters on the respective categories of comparative projects in the typology presented in Chapter Two. The empirical findings are being published elsewhere. It should also be borne in mind that, despite the initial intention to do so, it did not prove practicable to include all the comparative projects in the assessments undertaken by the respective chapter author teams. However, nothing in our experience of numerous project workshops, the formative evaluations or regular cross-platform dialogues leads us to believe that this reduces the validity or value of the findings presented in this book, even if the overall richness and diversity of experience has perforce been somewhat reduced. Moreover, it is encouraging that the formative evaluations and reflective work undertaken by each project team and those using each category of comparison conclude in broadly positive terms about the experience.

One set of challenges faced pretty well universally arose from individual personalities and idiosyncrasies pertaining to the particular context or project, and the very real challenges in setting up the comparative dimensions, especially when these were launched after the commencement of the respective local projects to be compared. Hence, relative timing was crucial, but, in the context of Mistra Urban Futures, largely unavoidable because many of the local projects had origins predating the inception of comparative research in the second phase of research from 2016 onwards. The significance of this issue varied, but was by definition not an issue in relation to the centrally designed but locally implemented project on engagement with and implementation of the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) and New Urban Agenda (NUA) (see Chapter Six), despite involving all five city LIPs and two new partnerships established in Buenos Aires and Shimla specifically for participation in this project. The same is true of the Participatory Cities and Realising Just Cities comparative reflexive learning processes, which have not depended on empirical local research – even though for reasons of practicability, the processes conveyed in Chapter Six did not include the Gothenburg side of the SMLIP–GOLIP process. This chapter also underlines the value of different forms of participatory transdisciplinary learning, beyond the types of co-production reported in the other chapters.

The comparative retrofitting project on Solid Waste Management reported in Chapter Three demonstrated the potential for mutual or bidirectional learning between teams in Kisumu, Kenya and Helsingborg, Sweden, despite the dramatic differences in contexts and existing SWM systems. Although it is difficult, for obvious reasons, to generalise on the basis of a single project, part of the power of the experience lay in the unexpected, with the perhaps implicit anticipation of a high-tech Northern approach being recommended for a global Southern situation with which it has little in common. Instead, a very different and more locally appropriate approach has been recommended and is now awaiting institutional approval and hopefully implementation. The transdisciplinary nature of the team was important, bringing different forms of knowledge to the table, and with the basis of mutual respect providing the basis for negotiating an outcome very different from the straightforward yet simplistic and demonstrably problematic recommendation of Kisumu following in Helsingborg’s footsteps as some had anticipated. Significantly, too, the team played with and reflected on the dual meanings of retrofitting in this context, and found that the idea of retrofitting a solid waste management approach to a profoundly deficient existing system resonated with the category of retrofitting a comparative project on to a local one.

The three different project experiences of replicating a pre-existing local project in one or more of the other city platforms compared and contrasted in Chapter Four were also broadly positive. The comparative richness shines through and demonstrates the flexibility of the category in accommodating such diversity, because no attempt was made to standardise the projects falling into this category. These represented a spectrum from fairly standard comparative project in the case of Transport and Sustainable Development to something more akin to emulation than replication in respect of the knowledge exchange project in view of the different context in Skåne. Nevertheless, a key ingredient for the eventual success in all three cases – and, indeed, in all the comparative projects regardless of category in our typology – was to build in an initial ideas phase where aims, objectives, research questions and a sense of common purpose were developed. That phase facilitated smoother and more rapid subsequent progress. Perhaps because of the greater similarities of what is being compared in the respective cities, the authors also conclude that this form of comparative project seems easier and perhaps quicker to set up than some of the others.

Chapter Five explores in detail the very reflexive formative stages of what is hoped to become a rich base for future research on migration and urban development. As part of the projects involved had already started before the comparative endeavour, and had other motivations for research, the comparative ambition of the work was, through clustering, to build a knowledge alliance and a conceptual framework useful for all the ongoing research projects in order to produce the embryo of a theoretical contribution to the discourse of urban justice. Indeed, through the formation of a knowledge alliance, the clustering produced new research inquiries on tourism and multi-culturalism that, in turn, led to a successful research bid for a longer research programme on the topic, further developing both the conceptual framework and the collaborations further.

The comparative project on engagement with and implementation of the SDGs and NUA, which forms the subject of Chapter Six, is the only such centrally designed and locally implemented example within the project portfolio. The design may have been relatively straightforward, but the challenge of building teams among academics, non-governmental organisations and local authorities, and establishing the requisite relations of trust within a short time in such diverse contexts, was far from easy. Indeed, the authors document clearly how challenging it often was to identify and establish working relations with the most appropriate officials, and how political dynamics, both with respect to electoral or appointment cycles, and often hierarchical relationships within and between municipal departments, caused delay and uncertainty, with some false starts. Having researchers of suitable experience and sensitivity, and being able to build a very supportive, cross-city project team to provide mutual support, peer-to-peer learning and a sense of shared purpose was also crucial. Indeed, the mutual learning dimension proved important to gaining the collaboration of top officials and politicians, since this was perceived to provide substantive and tangible benefits to the respective local authorities. The same applies to the feedback to and from UN-Habitat and United Nations Department of Economic and Social Affairs in terms of sharing updates and good practice.

Finally, and recalling that one category in the typology, namely the full comparative research by a mobile team of researchers all spending periods of time in each participating city, has not been represented in the project portfolio, and also that projects emerged with their particular characteristics spontaneously rather than by design, the evidence presented has validated the typology as a whole. Most projects fitted readily into one or other category, although one or two had features of two categories and their allocation seemed somewhat arbitrary. That said, the typology is intended only as a heuristic device rather than having any normative content, so usefulness is the only test.

Implications for Realising Just Cities

‘Who owns and benefits from comparison and how this enables action on the ground are key challenges for those involved in co-produced research.’ This reflection, posed by the authors in framing Chapter Seven, applies equally well to the full endeavour of Mistra Urban Futures’ comparative co-produced work. If the rationale behind comparative urbanism has changed from a normative stance in the early 1970s towards a genuine investigation into urban differences, as discussed in Chapter Two, the motivation for comparison in our case is to be found in contributions to realising a more just city through acknowledging and engaging with contextual differences. Diversity, as one governing principle of urban justice according to Susan Fainstein (2014), is increasingly challenged in a current urban condition shaped by processes of both integration and marketisation, pushing towards homogenisation and standardisation of identities as well as of the built environment. Hence, the benefits of comparative co-produced research would need a double purpose, namely to address the multiple teams of local actors involved and to make sense for both their daily practices and their aspirations for a just urban development in their respective local contexts. At the same time, they have to motivate for a level of engagement beyond the immediate, exploring a narrative of urban justice as accommodating diversity and differences, also when such a narrative points towards contradictions and contestations, to counter any single or simplified response to what is sustainable development.

The Realising Just Cities framework, adopted by Mistra Urban Futures in 2016, defined urban justice within three social conditions – ecological, cultural and spatial. The comparative projects emerged and were constructed in responses to these three conditions, addressing a wide range of topics framing urban justice through diverse lenses such as transport, waste management and migration, and within the different organisational set-ups represented in the respective typological categories. The methodological and organisational approaches reported in these chapters have also generated outcomes such as cross-cultural learnings and translations from one context to another, together with cross-context network effects. Importantly, these are acknowledged in all of the projects as results contributing to a deeper understanding of the complexities of urban justice and to a shared engagement in the meta-level of the discourse of how to imagine and realise just cities. Clearly, the substantive issues also affect the organisational set-ups in different ways as the research has proceeded over time, conducing different methodological experiences depending on research inquiry. In this way, research focus and ways to organise around it become interdependent, leading to outcomes as result of both.

Comparing as ‘learning through differences’, as Colin McFarlane puts it (2010: 728), is central to this endeavour, and our contribution to how to realise just cities. Would it be possible then to distinguish how a certain category of comparative co-production has promoted an investigation of difference in response to the realisation of urban justice, beyond the effects of comparative learning and cross-context networks? Since many of the cases presented are single comparative experiments (the exception is Chapter Four on replication), suggestions should be considered as reflections and possible lines of thoughts to be explored further.

Chapter Three discusses retrofitting as a model for comparison of practices of waste treatment, where the processes of retrofitting take place cross a Kenyan–Swedish context. This could be the typical set-up for a standard technological transfer from North to South. But the discussion of retrofitting is first framed as contextual adaptations in relation to both socio-spatial conditions and modes of governance. Second, it is put into practice in such a manner as to reverse the mono-directional knowledge transfer inherent in retrofitting, by expanding the knowledge production to include sites of material experimentation, benefitting both contexts. The differences of the two urban situations – in technology, practices and governance models – also challenge the established and formalised practices of the Swedish case. The model of retrofitting as it was adapted contributed to a dialogue of balanced differences, where experimentation was offered for mutual benefits.

Chapter Four explores three different research foci of food, transport and formalised knowledge exchange programmes, with the gaze of replication and three explicit and different methods for how replication could be practised. The very different social-economic conditions underlying the first two thematic foci added a tension to the quantitative and qualitative take of replication. In the case of the latter regarding food and food production, the recognition of differences among the four participating cities from global North and South defined four commonly held positionalities that became a tool to expose and question assumed universal stands and values regarding justice and sustainability by identifying the different positions, priorities and values. More profoundly, they facilitated the identification of non-negotiable and shared areas of concern, as a new terrain for investigation of urban justice through the lens of food.

This resembles the strategies evolving from clustering (Chapter Five), where an initial acknowledgement of differences was the driver to carve out a set of themes that could hold differences in a manner that made sense to all and that became productive for each research case individually. However, where the food framework had defined substantive themes, these themes were of a more conceptual nature, defined as transformative. A further exploration into these themes uncovered concepts of ‘in-between situations’, as different ‘trans-conditions’. These concepts, the authors argue, are in themselves directives to realisation of justice – to deal with realities of both, and in terms of multiple belongings, roles and languages, and to actively engage with these in practices of planning and integration.

In Chapter Six, describing an internationally initiated project with local co-production, a framework including different parameters of urban justice was already set by the topic of investigation, as the SDGs and the NUA partly point towards fair and just development. However, as the research topics were extensive and partly elusive, delimitations inevitably became necessary. The contested matter of housing becoming one of these sub-themes highlights how tangibility rather than abstraction provides a ‘boundary object’, making both the implementation of the SDGs and a cross-context comparative co-production of the implementations possible.¹ This category, as comprising the largest project covered in the book, both in terms of number of participants and funding, also struggled with the greatest diversity of local planning practices and ambitions for implementation. The set-up in itself was possibly the greatest contribution to urban justice as it triggered engagement in the SDGs across a large number of cities.

Finally, Chapter Seven, the opening sentence of which is reproduced at the beginning of this section, shows that, in engaging a diverse set of stakeholders, comparative co-production has the capacity to influence real-life practices and policy making in a very direct and hands-on manner. This is one of the strengths of co-produced research in general, but in the comparative situation described, the addition of a deliberate reflexive moment deepened the public stakeholders’ ability to reflect on the practice of urban justice by acknowledging the various differences at play.

In total, these short reflections point towards different ways to arrange research around difference, but also different ways to understand how, by detecting differences, new points of departure, held in common, can emerge.

Challenges and opportunities in taking forward transdisciplinary comparative co-production research

It has been important to think reflexively about the lessons learnt from the complex research processes in the various different thematic areas, how they complement one another and ultimately contribute to achieving more just (equitable) and sustainable cities. This has been valuable as an input to periodic formative evaluation as our research has progressed, in order to provide feedback to colleagues and improve the ongoing processes and hopefully thus outputs and outcomes. It is worth pointing out in this context that no appropriate quality monitoring and evaluation (QME) framework could be found to help evaluate the Mistra Urban Futures’ activities and impact. Indeed, conventional frameworks are geared to short-term reporting, as required by many research funding organisations, and usually contain quantitative biases in terms of annual indicators of outputs and turnover that are not appropriate to the complexities and uncertainties of transdisciplinary co-production processes. Indeed, to use such a framework would have been counterproductive. Accordingly, we invested considerable time and effort in developing a bespoke QME framework comprising five complementary elements, of which formative evaluation is one. As a whole, the framework embraces what are widely referred to as first-, second- and third-order effects or impacts. The first order involves direct project-related effects; the second order relates to the immediate context of the project, such as participating institutions and their localities, both during and shortly after the project itself; while the third order constitutes wider societal effects – which are more indirect, removed from the immediate project context and timeframe. These are also subject to diverse influences and are more complex to discern and measure (Williams, 2017; Lux et al, 2019; Williams and Robinson, 2020). The framework has now been tested robustly and is being reported on in separate publications as a contribution by Mistra Urban Futures to the literature on evaluation methodologies (see Mistra Urban Futures, 2019; Palmer et al, 2019).

In closing this volume, our more specific reflections on the diverse comparative transdisciplinary co-production projects and initiatives have led us to distinguish five key elements requiring explicit consideration and sometimes considerable effort to address in view of the complexities and institutional and even very personal sensitivities involved. Accordingly, anyone undertaking a similar project in future should be aware of these and build them into the project design from the outset, with ongoing monitoring for the duration.

• Project narratives and priorities. While the different projects in the participating LIPs have matched each other thematically, their empirical foci often differed and they might have had different origins. While in some cases, cross-platform comparison formed part of the logic from the start, in others, comparative work was not part of the initial project narrative. It occasionally proved difficult in rewriting the project rationale to motivate participants to undertake this expanded mission. Comparative work inevitably adds to overall complexity and effort, for benefits that may be uncertain, especially in terms of feedback and tangible local gains. At the same time, the empirical foci and methodologies in one platform or project sometimes served as inspiration in another and formed the basis of the comparison and hence enhanced mutual benefit.

• Time. Time constraints increase in complexity and extent when many partners are involved in one location, and even more for international comparative research. Academic, public sector, civil society and private sector partners operate with different calendars, budget cycles, time pressures and degrees of flexibility over their timetables. In a North–South or other interregional comparative context, differences in annual calendars, workloads, salary levels, facilities and infrastructure, and performance and assessment criteria can prove challenging both for the same kinds of stakeholders and across stakeholder groups. For instance, collective teamwork between Swedish and Kenyan PhD students was hampered by such differences, with the Kenyans having to juggle research and thesis writing on top of full-time academic posts, while Swedish students were able to devote far more of their working time to their studies (see also Simon et al, 2003; Palmer and Walasek, 2016; Darby, 2017). Setting up clear and realistic goals that can adapt to local constraints, as well as planning in advance the expected times for engagement between the international partners, may not eliminate these challenges but may reduce misunderstandings and facilitate collaboration.

• Funding. Different funding sources have different durations, stipulations about the extent of paid employment required or permitted, and demands on results. While common co-funding from a large multi-year programme, such as Mistra Urban Futures, is invaluable in enabling work on a common agenda, it cannot fully overcome the kinds of often-sharp differences outlined in these paragraphs. The contemporary requirements by funders and some host institutions to demonstrate direct downstream or societal impact within specific timeframes are particularly challenging in inter- and transdisciplinary sustainability research (Simon et al, 2003).

• Culture and power. Cultures of decision making (hierarchies, traditions, gender relations, levels of formal educational attainment, attitudes to age differences and the like) and communication (formal and interpersonal communication, different forms of knowledge, methods of interpretation and ways of knowing, the ability and willingness to have a voice in research team discussions) differ considerably across and within large institutions, countries and regions. Indeed, these dimensions are intertwined, complex, and often implicit and subtle, making actual change difficult to engender in practice, even when all agree it is appropriate (Palmer and Walasek, 2016; Darby, 2017; Perry et al, 2018). Yet failure to bridge such differences could reduce the value and quality of both the outputs and processes of mutual learning. These differences require careful and respectful exploration, discussion and resolution, with mindfulness of asymmetrical power relations. Beyond these principles of good practice, and making use of any institutional codes of ethics, anti-discrimination and harassment policies and the like, there is no simple toolkit for addressing such entrenched and often emotive issues. If all else fails, existing complaints procedures have to be used as frequently and strongly as possible as a way to address issues.

• Governance. The outputs and outcomes of transdisciplinary comparative work are subject to expectations of different kinds, based not only on the actual setups of the respective projects themselves, but also on the relevant governance structures of the participating organisations and institutions in each platform. The same work may be assessed very differently when the focus is usability in the local context, or analytical depth and diversity. To address this concern, research teams may need to produce outputs and interventions in different formats for the respective institutions and audiences, both in any one location and across the research locations. As explained previously, such diverse requirements and expectations should therefore also be factored into an appropriately designed QME framework.

All of this underscores the importance of effective ongoing engagement throughout each project’s life in order to address the different needs and priorities of the often-diverse participating organisations. The professional and personal engagement of each member of each research team is key to understanding the outcomes and potential impact; the differences are not seen as obstacles, but are the very stipulation for success. This engagement is also crucial to maximising effective external communication and to sharing and disseminating outputs and outcomes to different stakeholder groups and audiences, from the local to the global. It is also worth noting that the communication efforts tend to include recommendations, as in policy briefs, and suggestions for action. This is a development from ‘science communication’ in its traditional form towards more advocacy and activist-oriented communication (see, for instance, Davis et al, 2018).

The work reported and reflected on here therefore truly extends the frontiers of urban research and knowledge production, and we hope that it inspires and assists others to push further.