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Systems Approaches to Urban Underground Space Planning and Management – A Review

Systems Approaches to Urban Underground Space Planning and Management – A Review

Abstract – The necessity to recognize the subsurface or underground and all its current and potential uses as part of our urban environment, to integrate this into urban planning and governance, and to foster conscious allocation of subsurface space has been increasingly recognized over the last century.

At the same time, systems thinking as a ‘buzz-word’ has gained relevance for approaching complex problem areas in all kinds of disciplines including those preoccupied with the subsurface.

This paper reviews the literature about urban underground planning through a systems-lens. To set this in context, it is outlined how organizational principles for the urban subsurface have evolved, and the main aspects of systems thinking are introduced followed by a discussion of how this thinking could be applied to the urban underground. Strategies and tools presented in the recent literature in the field are then reviewed based on this perspective, asking how systemic the proposed strategies and tools are when the local geology, as well as legal and institutional settings are accepted as a baseline for analysis or intervention. Systemic approaches built on this premise have the potential to capture existing and evolving complexities, foster a better understanding of the value of subsurface space for a city and ultimately enable an efficient and fair allocation of underground space. However, propositions for holistic solutions remain dispersed, interventions often remain based in an engineering mindset, and a shift in mind-set remains a challenge. More research in collaboration with local and regional administrations or authorities based on systems thinking frameworks could help to facilitate this shift.

Keywords

Systems thinking
Urban underground space
Underground space governance
Subsurface planning and management

1. Introduction

The subsurface or underground1 is part of our urban environment. Infrastructures, water, developments, natural and man-made cavities – all these are connected to the history and economy of a specific city or urban area. The geology sets conditions for the construction of buildings and infrastructure, predetermines prospects of future subsurface utilization (Hunt et al., 2016) and human interventions, in particular in the deep subsurface, can change these conditions permanently and irreversibly (Rogers et al., 2012).

On the one hand, the subsurface is omnipresent in current policy debates. Subjects like flood prevention, renewable energy, infrastructure, and housing all imply a claim on using or protecting subsurface space (von der Tann, Metje, Admiraal, & Collins, 2018). On the other hand, each function or service occupying subsurface space is governed separately and on a project-by-project basis (Duffaut and Labbé 1992), with some even not being regulated at all. Internationally, regulation for shallow geothermal energy for example is scarce (Haehnlein et al., 2010). The integration of the complexity of specific projects with the aim to gain an overarching understanding of the role of the subsurface for urban development and to develop strategies that ensure its sustainable use remains a major challenge: engineers still mainly act in project design and implementation and may not be consulted earlier in the process of project development. The engineering of the projects is often highly complex in itself and needs the engineers’ full commitment. For the management of these projects, holistic approaches such as systems engineering (see for example Ziv et al., 2021), gain more importance, but the long-term influence of these projects on cities is still poorly understood. Other effects such as the environmental impacts or consequences of physical interventions on future planning needs and opportunities remain somewhat disregarded (Suri and Admiraal, 2015) and thus have to be dealt with when they appear. One example for this is the extensive pumping of groundwater for industrial purposes, to dewater mines or to reclaim land, that leads to an overall lowering of the groundwater table. Today, as the industry has moved out of the cities and a lot of former mines are closed, groundwater tables are tending to rise since continued pumping of the groundwater is not sustainable. This in turn can cause all kinds of problems that have to be actively managed (Dean and Sholley, 2006). The result of the lack of foresight with regard to wider and long-term effects of underground use, is urban underground space being described as a chaotic, unregulated space, the use of which is following a first come first served rule (Duffaut and Labbe, 1992, Bobylev, 2009).

The situation is even more complex in large old cities in which the current use structure of the underground has developed over the last centuries in a piecemeal manner (Rogers et al., 2012) leading to increasingly complicated underground constructions and constrained conditions for access to deeper levels (Rogers, 2009). Understanding of the interdependencies of subsurface utilisation and above ground urban life as well as the information about the subsurface are limited and cities with a coherent planning strategy for subsurface assets and functions remain few (Sterling et al., 2012, Price et al., 2016).

More systematic approaches to planning or management of the urban underground have been claimed repeatedly for some time alongside a more general progression towards description and analysis of cities as systems (e.g. Moffat and Kohler, 2008). The Franco-Armenian architect Utudjian already in 1933 founded the Group of Studies and Coordination of Underground Urbanism (GECUS) (Heim de Balsac, 1985). Since then, the relevance of the subsurface for urban development in general and for urban sustainability in particular as well as the potential benefits a more conscious approach to managing the subsurface could entail, have been increasingly addressed, mainly by tunneling and geotechnical engineers but more recently also by geologists, urban planners and lawyers (e.g. Admiraal and Cornaro, 2016, Bobylev, 2009, de Mulder et al., 2012, Delmastro et al., 2016, Hunt et al., 2016, National Research Council, 2013, Parker, 2004, Price et al., 2016, Reynolds and Reynolds, 2015, Sandberg, 2003). The development of urban geology as an independent discipline since the mid-eighties (de Mulder, 1996), a growing number of research projects in the area,2 and current political efforts in a range of countries further stress the need to better understand the role of the subsurface with all its facets for the development of an urban area and its relationship with environmental change. The risks and opportunities of utilizing the subsurface for different functions need to be considered in terms of this background.

This review paper will first present a brief overview of the history of underground utilization connected to urban settlements and summarize seminal papers in the field. Background on earlier planning suggestions and discussions is provided here covering the period up to the end of the 20th century. System approaches are introduced as approaches to design, observe or analyse, and consequently steer systems that shift the focus of analysis and understanding of the world around us from constituent technical and controllable parts to interrelations and dependencies, processes and changes over time as well as the role of human actors and society for the development and continuous renewal of sustainable technical solutions. Current research into the urban underground and its role as a complex system or cluster of systems supporting the overall city is reviewed and it is reflected about how the proposed approaches for subsurface management and planning contribute to a more systemic understanding of the complexity of the human-technical-environmental system urban underground space. The paper is concluded with a discussion of current developments in Singapore and the Netherlands as two examples of how these challenges are approached on public policy level.

2. Background

2.1. Evolution of underground space uses and needs

Uses of underground space in urban areas developed gradually over time and many of the problems facing better planning of a city’s subsurface today stem from the lack of planning of prior underground uses or foresight with regard to their wider implications (Admiraal and Cornaro, 2018). Over the last centuries, the use of underground space in urban areas typically was not planned in an active manner but the space was rather used reactively with cities responding to pressing problems or the development of new technologies. Table 1 provides a brief summary of the way in which specific and limited early uses of the underground have evolved into the geometrically complex arrangements in the subsurface of major urban areas today. No specific dates are given for the different periods because this evolution is not linear and is still ongoing and there can be significant overlap among the categories. Different elements of underground use have appeared at different times in different parts of the world and a comprehensive list of urban underground structuresand systems embedded in the subsurface that are made or utilized by humans in the increasingly urbanised world would go beyond the scope of this paper. The intent rather is to show how urban areas have gradually used more and more underground space but only recently are realizing that it must be planned and managed as the complex system it has become. This applies in particular to but is not limited to dense cities where an increasing number of engineered structures – developments and transport systems – form a material part of the cities’ built environment and identity.

Table 1. Evolution of underground space uses and needs.

Generalized time frame Typical uses of underground space Potential issues and needs for planning Example(s); Reference(s)
Earliest uses. Early humans appear to have identified advantageous natural geologic features for shelter and protection (e.g. in natural caves). Unknown but structural stability of the cave, potential for flooding, and perhaps the possibility to displace any existing occupants are likely to have been key selection parameters. Misliya Cave, Israel, (177 000 to 194 000 years ago)
Hershkovitz et al. (2018).
Human settlements form and grow; underground space uses diversify. Shelters and storage created in suitable rock layers (e.g. Cappadocia or Tunisia) or in semi-underground pit dwellings in soil (e.g. Banpo site, China). Climate protection and defensive characteristics are key attributes. Underground spaces were used for rituals and burials in addition to shelter (e.g. Lascaux Caves). In flatter topographies, crude drainage systems were incorporated into the streets of ancient cities (e.g. Troy). The development and use of tools to excavate soil and rock allowed the recovery of useful minerals (e.g. flint, salt) and the possibility to excavate shelter spaces. Usage must have involved identification of the suitable geologic materials/topography and probably trial and error approaches to cavern spans, shapes and spacings in different materials. Lascaux Caves
(since 20 000 years ago); Banpo Site, China (6 000 years ago); China’s Museums (n.d.)
Kaymakli, Cappadocia (from 7th to 8th century BCE through the Byzantine era).
From the Egyptians, Greeks and Romans up to the industrial revolution. With widespread availability of building materials (e.g. adobe, brick or tile) and use of timber for construction, village, town and city development focused on aboveground structures. Underground structures (particularly tunnels) are important for some transportation purposes and water supply (e.g. Greek and Roman tunnels) although many cities simply rely on access to rivers. Sanitation mainly relies on cesspools and/or surface or near-surface drainage to rivers and seas. The importance of the ground as a foundation layer increases. Few spatial conflicts in underground uses. In some cities (e.g. Paris) the building materials are taken from local mining/quarrying – creating a largely unplanned system of underground caverns beneath the city. Ancient sewers in Mesopotamia (from 4 000 to 2 500 BCE) Sewerhistory.org, 2018; Eupalinos’ Tunnel 6th Century BCE; Fucine Lake drainage tunnel, Italy (begun 41 CE) (Iisgalilei, 2014);
First tunneled sewer in Paris in 1370
Paris-Musées (1997).
Through the industrial revolution. Villages and towns of modest size use little subsurface space – mainly perhaps for a piped water supply or for surface water drainage. The industrial revolution stimulates the growth of cities and increases transportation requirements and needs for urban services. Sewage systems are installed in more and more cities. Gas and electricity and later telephone networks are installed with transmission lines to reach the town and distribution lines within the town. Storm and sanitary sewers are installed as far as practical as gravity systems – meaning that their system layout is controlled by the surface topography of the town. Water, gas and any underground cable systems have few grade constraints but mostly follow the public rights of way and are installed as shallow cut-and-cover installations. Even though there is now a system of under-ground utilities, little planning of the underground is needed because utility capacities and sizes are small and there are no significant other uses of the underground to consider. See for example for the UK: Palmer, Nevell and Sissons (2012).
Continued world urbanization and growth in city size. The continual need for higher utility capacities means that utility services need to be resized; new utility systems may be added (e.g. control cables, fiber optics). Existing lines are often abandoned in place; new systems are simply fit project-by-project into the existing fabric. Large cities have traffic congestion problems leading to the development of mass transit systems and often underground metro systems. Pedestrian-traffic conflicts at street level create needs for grade-separated pedestrian networks. The supply needs for a large city typically mean tunneling for water supply and sewerage systems. Electrical transmission tunnels may also be needed. Intercity transport developments may bring high-speed train tunnels to the heart of the city. As towns develop and grow or existing cities upgrade their infrastructure, more conflicts in the underground begin to emerge. The urban underground is now truly a complex network, operating as an infrastructure system to support the overall city system, but rarely designed as a system. Conflicts for use of the underground space now are common – pedestrian tunnels versus shallow utilities and access to the surface for transportation systems. New transportation systems are pushed deeper and deeper to avoid what has already been built. Webster (1914)); Utudjian, 1933, Heim de Balsac, 1985, NAS, 1972, Sterling, 2005, ITA, 2012, Anttikoski and Raudasmaa, 1984, APWA, 1971, Barker, 1986, Birkerts, 1984, Con, 1917, Dames & Moore, 1983, Duffaut, 1978, Edelenbos et al., 1998, Fairhurst, 1976, Hanamura, 1990, ITA, 1987, Jansson and Winqvist, 1977, Kjelshus, 1984, LaNier, 1970, Legget, 1973, Malone, 1996, Maymont, 1962, Ponte, 1971, Rogers, 1986, Sterling, 1996, Sterling and Nelson, 1982, Thomas, 1979, Tongji University, 1988, Wells, 1977, Yasufuku et al., 1995, Zhao, 1996, Zhao and Bergh-Christensen, 1996, Zhao et al., 1996, Zhao and Lee, 1996, Zhu and Xu, 1981, Kaymakli Underground City, n.d., Sewerhistory, 2018.
Cities evolve, face new constraints and demand a better environment. Tall buildings, parking needs and/or height restrictions encourage deep basements. Land-starved cities (e.g. Singapore and Hong Kong) turn to a planned use of underground space use as a means of preserving precious surface land without restraining continued economic development. The city depends more and more heavily on its underground networks and, as the networks age, how to maintain and renew them while continuing to provide critical services is more and more of a challenge. Changes in commercial patterns may alter transportation needs (e.g. internet ordering/rapid delivery leading to increased interest in freight tunnel systems – especially in China). Discussions of some prime examples of developments and needs can be found in: Admiraal and Cornaro (2018); China: Qian (2016); Hong Kong: Wallace and Ng (2016); Japan, Kishii (2016); Norway: Broch (2016); Singapore: Zhou and Zhao (2016).

2.2. Evolution of organizational principles for urban underground space use

The use of underground space as described above has always been a mix between uses that arose from the geological location of the city and uses that developed as a reaction to the development of the settlement as such and the corresponding needs for infrastructure, protection or similar. Historically, settlements and cities have emerged in specific locations for a myriad of reasons to do amongst others with transportation routes, water availability, agriculture, or proximity of building materials. When did cities start to identify the potential and manage their underground zones as an important city resource? What guidance and tools have been developed to do this?

While water and transportation tunnels were a part of Greek and Roman cities, the first recorded city planning concept involving underground space use known to the authors is the concept developed by Leonardo da Vinci in 1488 (Universal Leonardo, 2018). His ideal city would have featured lower and upper areas – the lower being canals for trade and sewage removal and the upper being the living space for the elite with the goal Only let that which is good looking be seen on the surface of the city(Davinci Inventions, 2008). In addition, pumps connecting to reservoirs at the tops of buildings would provide both water flow to the buildings and a source of energy within the building.

It is not until the beginning of the 1900s, that the visions and concerns of architects, planners and engineers about the use of urban underground space are found more frequently in the literature. Hénard (1903) proposed multi-level concepts for city streets and their adjacent buildings. Webster (1914) argued for more concerted planning efforts for a city’s underground space. Writers developed cautionary tales about the reliance on underground systems (e.g. Wells, 1895, and Forster, 1909). The first organization to specifically focus on the possibilities and effective planning for urban underground space use emerged in the 1930s in France: GECUS (Group d’Etude et de Coordination de l’Urbanism Souterrain) was created in 1933 and existed until the 1970s. A brief history of GECUS and its contributions is given in Heim de Balsac (1985) and the group also published a journal entitled “Le Monde Souterrain” from 1936 until the death of its founder Eduard Utudjian in July 1975.

A broader wave of interest in the possibilities for using underground space emerged in the 1960s and 1970s – driven by cold war shelter needs, a surge of environmental awareness and two worldwide energy crises. This was coupled (particularly in Scandinavia) with the development of an ability for cost-effective creation of rock caverns for a variety of energy, storage and civic purposes (see for example Bergman, 1978, Bergman, 1981 for the proceedings from the conferences Rockstore ’77 and Rockstore ’80). From this time, targeted underground planning efforts appeared in cities or regions worldwide although most of these efforts did not persist and continuity of interest has remained a significant problem. The reasons for this inconsistency can only be speculated about. The decisions of the United Nations’ Economic and Social Council (United Nations, 1983, United Nations, 1985) provide a clue. The Council’s Committee on Natural Resources discussed the potential of subsurface space as a resource in 1983 but the subsequently prepared report was only taken note of in 1985. Representatives had commented that the various uses of the subsurface were not new and the committee should rather focus on innovative solutions and new activities like gas storage, as well as that subsurface space should not be looked at separately but be integrated in other major topics like water or mining. This last comment suggests that not spatial coordination but specific resource demands were seen as the overarching issues to deal with.

Nonetheless, organization principles for and discussions about optimization of underground space use in urban areas kept being developed and an increasing number of academic papers as well as urban initiatives from the early 2000s suggest that the recent exponential growth of urban population as well as the recognition of climate change as major challenges of our time might also have given rise to a new imperative to better understand the present and potential role of the underground or subsurface for the development of urban areas.

A range of significant contributions that advanced the concept of underground space use planning is consolidated in Fig. 1. The figure focusses on early contributions and provides a classification of issues that the publications address. These often overlap and various themes are mentioned in the same paper or report. However, the figure illustrates the development of interest in that field of application and research and the different angles from which it has been approached. It appears that in recent decades the need for better management is recognized by experts in other disciplines than engineering and urban planning. In particular, urban geology developed as a sub-discipline of geology (Wilson and Jackson, 2016). More recent (and often more comprehensive papers) are discussed in the remainder of the paper.

Fig. 1. Early contributions to various underground space concepts and planning in the 20th century.

3. Systems approaches and urban underground space

As has been stated above, the current approach to Urban Underground Space planning has been described as fragmented and sector based (Bobylev, 2009) and attempts to understand and analyze the subsurface with all the embedded systems as an integrated entity have been repeatedly dropped. However, in recent years, it is more generally acknowledged that sectoral approaches in the increasingly complex world are insufficient. In the subsurface they have not only led to piecemeal development but also to a set of problems with regards to data sharing as well as during project planning and implementation that might have been avoided. They most definitely should be avoided in the future. Consequently, the call for systems approaches to urban planningsince the 1970s (McLoughin, 1969, Rittel and Webber, 1973), or ecosystem-based approaches (Gómez-Baggethun, 2013) to urban planning that include the subsurface appears to be more topical than ever.

3.1. What is a system?

The term ‘system’ or ‘complex system’ describes an entity that consists of a number of interacting elements or parts that operate together towards a common purpose. It is commonly described with the so called holism principle stating that a system is more than the sum of its parts. This means that through the complex interactions of the systems parts or sub-systems, an outcome or function will emerge that cannot entirely be explained through explanation of the systems elements (Richardson, 2004). In this context, it is also recognized that optimization at element- or sub-system level does not by default lead to improvements of the overall system. System parts include not only technical elements like materials, hardware or software, but also non-technical and time-dependent elements like people, processes, and policies. For example, an urban transport system includes the roads as well as, for example, a mass rapid transit system, busses, cars, and taxis, the traffic control systems and regulations, the traffic police, and ultimately the users. Systems can become sub-systems when the boundaries of analysis are changed and more systems are integrated. When the planning system as a whole is analyzed, for instance, elements like land use, housing, infrastructure and so on are equally looked at, and the transport system becomes a sub-system.

Apart from the individual elements or sub-systems, the system is defined by the boundaries between those elements (internal boundaries) as well as between the system and its surroundings (external boundaries), the interconnections and interactions between elements, and the function or purpose of the system (Meadows and Wright, 2009). The boundaries allow attribution of specific purposes or roles to particular system elements. The overall function or purpose of a system is not predetermined but will be assigned to the system in a specific moment in time by society or a particular stakeholder or stakeholder group. In other words, the purpose of a system is dynamic and depends on the position of the person or group describing it. For example, the main purpose of a housing development can be described as maximization of revenue by the developer and as provision of affordable housing units by a local council. The value and performance of any system will be assessed through the respective lens of a stakeholder or researcher.

Complexity arises when multiple stakeholder groups interact and open sub-systems bring about dynamic, constantly changing boundaries. In these cases, the boundaries and assignment of purpose for the whole system, sub-system or system elements are incomplete or contested and cause-effect relationships can only be seen retrospectively, not in advance (Childs and McLoyd, 2013). This can lead to conflicts when different groups have incompatible perspectives on a systems or sub-systems purpose. Chen and Crilli (2016) formulate it as follows:

What distinguishes a complex system from a non-complex system is that we do not understand that system well enough to realise our objectives. In other words, ‘complexity’ is subjective; it describes the stance that is being taken towards a system. That complexity can itself be characterised in many different ways (e.g. emergence) depending on the different ways in which this shortfall in understanding is manifest (e.g. unpredictability).

 

This quote implies that through learning about systems, over time, complexities can be understood and managed to a degree that the system will not be perceived as complex anymore. Complexity is thus defined by the perspective and knowledge of the person describing a system as well as by the temporal, functional and spatial boundaries this person defines. Because they are by definition not – or not yet – fully understood, complex systems exhibit unexpected or emergent behaviors. These features of a system that have not previously been observed appear on the macro- or system level through interactions and unplanned or unforeseen organization of systems components (Goldstein, 1999). As mentioned above, emergent behaviors cannot be fully explained through description of the systems components and can lead to either unanticipated and potentially catastrophic failures or to robust new patterns (Chen and Crilli, 2016). Systems approaches aim at early recognition and management of the former and encouragement and exploitation of the latter.

3.2. Systems approaches

The described properties and characteristics of what defines a system correspond to what are called systems approaches. In general, systems approaches – approaches based on systems thinking – employ methodologies that facilitate better understanding of the system’s elements, their interactions, and the relationship between the system and its environment (Cooper et al., 1971). They aim to prevent conflicts between different stakeholders through early recognition of interactions between the various system elements as well as the interaction between the system looked at and the social, economic and environmental systems it is embedded or nested within. Systems approaches acknowledge that the exact problem definition of an issue looked at is subjective to a group or culture and part of the process rather than predetermined and fixed. Consequently, system approaches aim to optimize the outcome of unforeseeable system behaviors through continuous learning. Feedback-loops and learning-cycles are thus key components of the methodologies applied. Equally, systems thinking as a decision tool requires the decision maker to consider the interest and influence of direct and indirect stakeholders, with due consideration for un-intended consequences of decisions as part of the feedback loop. In this understanding, decision makers have to take the long-term view, acknowledging the time required for feedback to occur, and balancing short-term and long-term perspectives.

In the technical sphere, the notion of systems still mainly refers to the technical systems themselves. Consequently, methodologies that are based on systems thinking in this sphere deal with the design of technical systems as well as the process to implement and monitor them over their life-cycle. Design is here understood as the arrangement of elements to create a complete entity that has a specified purpose or aims at a specific outcome. Here, the purpose or outcome is equivalent to the fulfilment of a specified function – for example, to enable the flow of a specific amount of water from A to B. In this, it is acknowledged that the designed system is nested in systems of governance or in a cultural setting, yet the latter are analyzed as external to the system that is being designed. Methodologies such as systems engineering of complex projects that were developed as a method to deal with engineering challenges that span multiple engineering disciplines (Ryan, 2008) but are well defined in their scope, fall into this category.

Outside of the traditional technical disciplines and tasks, a different set of systems methodologies is deployed, the main intention of which is not design but observation and potentially steering of systems, often systems of management and governance of a specific task in a specific setting. As such, systems thinking is more than an engineering approach but rather a philosophy for solving problems through joined-up integrative thinking. Technical systems in this setting are understood and described as embedded or nested in wider systems of governance, cultural settings, and the natural environment. These systems are already present and cannot be designed from scratch. However, they influence and are influenced by the designed technical systems and other human interventions and decisions. Boundaries here are often more difficult to define and empirical testing and controlling of variables to identify causal mechanisms is not possible.

Systems thinking in itself is complex and various definitions of systems can be found (see for example Arnold and Wade, 2015). However, a few key elements can be extracted that are characteristic for methodologies or tools applied in systems approaches:

(1)

The purpose of an intervention or element is integrated in the purpose definition of the system as a whole. This also allows for purpose and value definitions beyond the neoclassical idea of value generation.

(2)

Analysis of system elements is integrated across traditionally drawn boundaries. These can be temporal, spatial, administrative or sectoral, just to name a few. The focus of analysis and interventions shifts from hierarchies between the elements to networks and interactions and from the definition of parts and their boundaries to process observation and management (Simutis et al., 1973). This integration also implies that different perspectives and levels of functionality are perceived as equally important (see Blockley, 2010). For a specific problem, the analysis of boundaries of the system looked at is key, as they not only define the problem space but are also necessary for system optimization.

(3)

It is acknowledged that the system is dynamic and will exhibit unexpected behaviors. The approaches thus entail:

(i)

Future thinking: the near and distant future are considered. There is a push towards exploration and experimentation rather than only empirical derived rules to inform planning. The focus shifts from prediction to preparedness.

(ii)

Empowerment and inclusion of stakeholders to recognize and exploit favorable emergent behaviors rather than to control the system as a whole as it is accepted that the latter is not entirely possible.

 

(4)

The system evolution is understood as a loop rather than linear, implying continuous learning (Fig. 2). These loops or circles entail the definition and redefinition of the problem or purpose as well as time and mechanisms to monitor and evaluate the impact of interventions undertaken. To do so, the system has to be analyzed and a baseline has to be established against which an evaluation can take place.

Fig. 2. Illustration of a characteristic process-loop in system approaches. Some approaches do not mention the purpose definition separately and separate other aspects.

 

Rather than claiming comprehensiveness, these points summarize what the authors consider as the most important aspects for the issue at hand and shall serve as a basis for the discussion below. Not all approaches cover all these aspects and tools are needed for all stages and on all levels of analysis, modelling, decision making, implementation and monitoring. Priorities have to be set for each individual situation and topic dealt with.

3.3. The urban subsurface as system

The previous sections explained how systems are described and how that relates to methodologies and tools applied in what are called system approaches. On that basis, here it shall be discussed if the subsurface as a whole or else which elements or parts of the subsurface can be seen as a system and if or in which cases a systems perspective for the subsurface can be helpful.

Following the holism principle, if a unified purpose shall be assigned, it can be questioned if the urban subsurface itself can be seen as a system, or if the appropriate unit of analysis is rather the complete city with the subsurface being a sub-system or a set of sub-systems (von der Tann et al., 2016). Various systems are at play, of which the geological system and the water system, commonly perceived as natural despite anthropogenic influences, and the embedded, man-made infrastructure systems are probably the most prevalent. Each infrastructure sector can be analyzed as a system and building or development projects are complex socio-technical systems in their own right (Zhou, 2014).

The number of systems and use potentials present in the same subsurface volume lead not only to questions of integration to avoid use conflicts (see for example Bartel and Jansen, 2016) but also the question of how to take a decision if various uses would be possible. Thus, while it might be difficult to assign one specific purpose to the whole of the subsurface, the high number of interconnections between components and actors and the continuous evolution of the space as a result of human activities in the context of urban development, coupled with an inherent unpredictability provide a rational to adopt the notion of a complex adaptive system (Rinaldi et al., 2001, McPhearson et al., 2016). In this continuously changing and evolving space, each engineering project or other intervention alters the system as a whole and every subsequent intervention has to react to the new state. What a new state will entail is never fully predictable and engineers will always aspire to contribute to improvement of the whole (Simon, 1996). What is considered to be an improvement, however, is embedded in individual and cultural values. This observation in turn strengthens the case for value education in engineering curricula that has gained momentum in recent years (see for example Rugarcia et al., 2000, Coyle et al., 2006).

To describe the role, potentials and risks the subsurface entails for a city, a variety of classifications have been proposed including classification of subsurface resources, services, or functions (von der Tann et al., 2016). Each of these classification schemes carries a presumption of meaning and boundaries (von der Tann, Metje, & Collins, 2018). The common denominator seems to be that the subsurface or underground is seen as a spatial resource as well as natural basis or service provider for the city, the latter also requiring space if utilized. The principles of systems thinking pledge decision makers to view the use of underground space as part of a larger system, and to examine the project systems from the life cycle from planning, design and construction, operations and maintenance, and decommissioning. (Zhou, 2014) and the notion of feedback loops challenges practitioners and policy makers to recognize the mutual effects of the local geology and subsurface legacy on the future development of the city and vice versa (von der Tann et al., 2016).

Another aspect supporting the call for a systems approach to underground space management is that the evolution of systems understanding and analysis is – at least in cities with growing population and densities – actually paralleled by an increased density of utilizations of underground space that need to be managed in conjunction. This management need gets allocated to the urban planning discipline, building on the conception of urban planning as the responsible discipline for the spatial distribution of human activities. To provide an overview, building on Table 1, Table 2 relates the developments in urban subsurface use with the prevalent understanding of planning and dimensions of systems analyses. It illustrates that a more systemic approach to the urban subsurface is needed when competing space claims are present and that the newly emerging focus on underground space in cities can be correlated with the increasing complexity of urban systems – and thus how cities are planned and analyzed – in general reacting to global challenges like population growth and climate change.

Table 2. Evolution of subsurface use in relation to urban planning principles.

Empty Cell Past Present Future
City location Choice of settlement location depending on availability of resources and ease to build Fixed through history
Geomorphology changed through human interventions
Fixed through history
Geomorphology changed through human interventions
New cities in arbitrarily chosen locations
Uses of the shallow subsurface (todays streetscape) Bearing capacity
Plant roots
Building material
Drainage
Basements
Bearing capacity
Plant roots
Utility infrastructure
Shallow tunnels
Basements and developments
Man-made ground
Ecosystem service provision pushed deeper down or out of the city
Fully managed space
More functions and services underground:
– waste management
– freight
– housing
SuDS to recreate drainage
Reintegration of ecosystem services into urban space
Uses of the deeper subsurface Groundwater wellsMining
(industrialization)
Groundwater wells
Geothermal energy
Mining legacy – cavities
Deeper tunnels (transport, sewers, other uses)
Higher number of deep tunnels (transport and other uses)
Storage capacities
‘Right of non-use’ might be discussed
City relation to the subsurface Subsurface as basis for city location
Resources like wood, building materials, fertile land and water as well as the ease to build all connect to the subsurface
Subsurface (grown and man-made soil) mainly understood as given constraint that has to be dealt with for realization of projects
Existing assets and services in the subsurface vital for the city
Subsurface part of the starting point of planning considerations/ integrated in overarching spatial plans or analyses
Subsurface as opportunity
Driver/ purpose for building cities/ planning Survival, fulfilment of basic needs Health and well-being of citizens
Growth
Climate Change
Sustainability
In addition to present drivers:
Flexibility and adaptability –
preparation for yet unknown changes
Planning dimensions Not a defined discipline 2D to 3D 3D to 4D
System understanding Engineered systems:
Focus on technical (engineering) solutions to well bounded problems.
People as predictable input in the system (e.g. demand)
Nested systems
System of systems
Various systems embedded in the ground still largely looked at in separation
Complex adaptive systems, city as ecosystem
Systems constantly changing
Strong people focus for understanding and meeting of present-day challenges.

3.4. Systems approaches for the urban subsurface

A systems approach to urban underground or subsurface management requires an awareness of a multitude of perspectives and scales as well as the interdependencies between those and tools to examine them. A pluralist approach to research including methods, tools and perspectives seems advisable as a single approach necessarily entails a limited view on the problem looked at. A brief discussion of the main aspects outlined above is provided here before recent contributions in the literature as well as developments in public policy are presented.

3.4.1. Purpose definition

Planning for underground space should examine the visions, missions, and goals of the overall system under which it exists. This system can be the transport system, the water system, or the urban system as a whole. For a systems approach, it is important that the purpose of an element, task or problem dealt with is linked to its position in the overall system. Engineering tasks such as the design and implementation of a tunnel might have the purpose to improve the transport system whilst minimizing the impact on the existing built environment. The transport system in itself, in turn, might have the purpose to increase the ratio of public to private transport for environmental reasons, to boost the urban economy or to counteract inequality. Which of these is the main objective in a specific moment in time and consequently guides planning and design decisions is a fundamental systems choice, and it is important to keep that in mind. Predictions of demand often inform what capacity is planned for and where it is located and thus investment decisions are linked to this choice.

3.4.2. Integration and boundaries

The integration of, for example, perspectives, scales and disciplines is core to systems thinking and the challenge to broaden analyses and the ambition to integrate the various systems at play in the subsurface as well as the according stakeholders is ubiquitous in the literature. In some way, the whole question of urban underground space planning and management is about integration of this spatial volume into urban planning considerations and analyses of urban areas. Embedded in that is the intention to integrate a variety of processes and perspectives across apparent boundaries if a comprehensive approach is sought. Table 3provides a list of dimensions of integration that could be considered.

Table 3. Dimensions of integration.

Conceptual integration
Integration of human, technical and environmental systems
Integration of scientific and practical understanding of the role and according processes of underground space planning
Integration of stakeholder views
Spatial and territorial integration
Integration of local geological setting with city visions and urban planning objectives
Integration of spatial scales and the according interests, e.g. local, regional, national
Integration of above and below ground governance and design
Spatial integration of various space claims on underground space – physical integration of the embedded systems
Sectoral integration
Integration between the different infrastructure sectors occupying underground space
Integration of public policy domains in a specific area, e.g. infrastructure, environment, mining
Process integration
Integration of overarching visions and objectives with specific interventions
Integration of project planning and project implementation
Integration across political election cycles
Integration of maintenance and reviewing cycles across different industries (different functions and assets are evolving in different time scales or intervals)
Data integration
Integration of various data sources and their understanding, as well as the according tools for analyses and processing

The notion of integration across various boundaries goes hand in hand with the definition and analysis of these boundaries – in general as well as for a specific task. Boundaries are used to define which elements are internal or external to a system as well as differences between system elements (internal boundaries). To analyze a system, boundaries can be treated as temporarily stabilized, meaning that they were “created and agreed on by groups and individual actors over a long period of time” (Kerosuo, 2006 as quoted by van Broekhoven et al., 2015). In this context, it is important to recognize that apart from the constraining effects of boundaries that are the motive for the attempt of integration, boundaries can also have enabling effects because they reduce complexity, enable professional specialization, and in general provide structure (van Broekhoven et al., 2015). For example, the purpose definition as well as set goals can constitute enabling or constraining boundaries depending on the context. This recognition is helpful to accept that while aiming for a systems approach, it is not only impossible but also unnecessary to integrate everything.

One approach to identify and define boundaries is shown in Table 4. The PESTLE approach that is often used in business analysis distinguishes six different groups of boundaries (Yüksel, 2012) that have to be considered. Table 4 lists an example of the according parameters for a construction project.

Table 4. Example of a PESTLE approach to boundary analysis.

Empty Cell Main factor Potential sub-factors for a construction project
P Political Strategic value, foreign workers
E Economic Cost, economic benefit, markets, fiscal conditions
S Socio-cultural Public perception, noise and dust, psychological impact
T Technological Geology, construction methods
L Legal Building control, development control, ownership, safety regulations
E Environmental Site location and access, noise and vibration, dust, water pollution

In the context of the subsurface and the attempt to capture its role as well as the challenges and opportunities it provides, other boundaries that need careful consideration and definition are the actual spatial boundaries between different uses as well as the areas of responsibility of the involved authorities. This can be complicated as the uses are not necessarily exclusive and territorial boundaries can be fluid. For example, the same space can be used for bearing load and groundwater flow and the boundary for a catchment area might not be equivalent to that of the local boroughs in the city looked at. The boundary analysis provides the baseline for project evaluation and decision taking (see Section 3.2). This bridging from ‘soft’, holistic parameters and processes into ‘hard’, tangible projects that permanently change the built environment remains a major challenge. With regard to planning and management of underground functions, the local geological and geographical setting as well as the legacy of structures and human interventions in the ground and the legal and regulatory system constitute the major boundaries that are usually accepted as a starting point or baseline for planning specific interventions. They are also the starting point for the introduction of broader strategies or plans, in which currently the physical setting is often underrecognized, and the current legal and regulatory systems affecting or affected by subsurface use are found to be piecemeal (see 4.1 Boundaries: geological setting and physical legacy, 4.2 Boundaries: legal and institutional setting). Other aspects that require technical understanding as a basis for meaningful decisions are space requirements and compatibility of the different potential uses.

3.4.3. Emergence and continuous learning

Whilst it can be accepted that boundaries have to be analyzed as temporarily stabilized for specific tasks or purposes, the aspect of process integration is related to the notion that the behavior of the urban – and with it the underground – system is not fully predictable and the aim of systems thinking is to recognize and capture the emerging behaviors and situations in time to make meaningful adjustments. In other words, emergent and unpredicted systems behaviors should be met by an effort to continuously adapt and learn. The previously referred to first come – first served approach to allocation of space in the subsurface causes discontent because, looking back, it appears that with regards to the subsurface, this was not done, meaning subsurface use was not tackled systematically but piecemeal. On the other hand, was it possible to predict the increasing number of networks to be put into the subsurface over time? The problem was recognized by some at an early stage (e.g. Webster 1914) but this did not lead to any significant change in practice. Likewise, could planners and engineers have foreseen (when they planned the city layouts) that personal transport in cities would increase to the level it has and that it may now potentially decrease again due to climate and public health considerations?

There is a range of examples where how the subsurface or elements of it are managed today is clearly an effect of previous interventions or historical developments. This path-dependency becomes apparent in that any structure can create an impediment for future developments or impose increased management needs on a subsurface related sector. For instance, a lowered groundwater level in London were taken for granted when parts of the underground system were built. A decrease of groundwater use and a rising groundwater table later triggered concerns about the stability of existing constructions and water intrusions into service ducts (Dean and Sholley, 2006) with the result that the groundwater table is now managed carefully. The effect of ageing infrastructure is another example. Damaged sewage pipes can act as drains or recharge the groundwater table, depending on the hydraulic gradient (Boukhemacha et al., 2015). Re-sealing the pipes changes the groundwater levels again, which in turn can affect individual citizens for example when groundwater seeps into basements that had previously been considered as dry (Simicevic et al., 2005).

Systems approaches to managing the subsurface should analyze the location specific past events, describe the according path-dependencies, and apply future methodologies to maximize the potential to recognize, change and adapt existing strategies and projects.

4. Current thinking in a systems context

In recent years, the understanding of using underground space in urban areas as an opportunity to tackle major challenges of urban planning as well as its role as part of the natural environment that cannot be controlled but needs to be sustained, led to a series of academic projects as well as political initiatives in various places. These are reviewed below, applying the principles introduced in Section 3 to structure the literature as well as to critically reflect on how systemic the adopted positions and proposed strategies or tools are.

To accept the local geology in addition to the legal and institutional framework not only as boundary but as a starting point for urban planning and planning decisions is here understood as a necessary condition for a systemic approach to underground planning and/or management, challenging the predominant process in which subsurface assessments and interventions often follow demands and objectives set for the allocation of uses at the surface (Admiraal and Cornaro, 2018). Similarly, strategies and tools developed in the context of underground planning or management need to consider how change and learning can be integrated in the proposed processes, and foster understanding of and cooperation across traditionally separate disciplines and stakeholders.

A lot of what is summarized in the following sections also applies to underground space outside of urbanized areas, which is of equal importance and where similar issues exist, but the uses discussed or present often occupy much larger volumes and deeper layers of the subsurface and are, different to those in urban areas, uses that could not be put above ground instead. However, the higher density of people, assets and information in urban areas makes a considerable difference for the definition and analysis of boundaries, and thus the following review and discussion are focused on urban settings.

4.1. Boundaries: geological setting and physical legacy

As mentioned above, the acceptance of the geology as the baseline or starting point for any activity or intervention in the subsurface in itself is a change of perspective towards a more systemic approach. A criticism of the observation that geology is often related to cost of construction and project risk, but seldom considered in the planning stage – for example, planners propose and set tunnel alignments and engineers only later deal with the geological risk (Barton, 2009) – is inherent to this acceptance and has been emphasized in the recently completed research project COST sub-urban (sub-urban.squarespace.com). Not only does all use of space itself require excavation or tunneling, and therewith handling of the soil or rock present, the geology also serves as bearing ground, storage for materials and many more. Understanding of the local geology and hydrogeology in combination with careful consideration of the human legacy present, thus allows not only to define influence zones of different potential functions or mapping of potentials to support planning and avoid conflicts (such as, for example, those proposed by Kahnt et al., 2015, and Doyle, 2016, see Section 4.3.6), but also determination of availability of materials and water as well as predisposition to natural hazards such as flooding and earthquakes.

With regard to the systemic integration, these functions and potentials are traditionally looked at independently, and the influences they have on each other are only analyzed for specific interactions (for example, the risk of water pipe bursting and the associated flooding for tube tunnels). Kahnt et al. (2015) list the geochemical, geomechanical, geohydrological and geothermal influences of different uses on the surrounding geology and distinguish between local conflicts when two or more uses would occupy the same volume and conflicts that can occur inside and across layers or geological formations. Matrices of competing space claims can be found in several reports (for example Bureau de Recherches Géologiques et Minières, 2016, Akademie für Raumforschung und Landesplanung, 2012). These evaluations are based on technical and geological knowledge rather than being scenario specific and it is important to keep in mind that these are based on current knowledge and thus their relevance for decision making might change with evolving technologies or city visions.

The necessity to understand the geology and the legacy and influence of human interventions – that is constructions as well as contamination, man-made ground, or altered water flows – as baseline rather than as a part of the environment that has to be analyzed in the context of specific tasks or projects is expressed throughout the literature and governmental initiatives indicating a change of paradigm. As a consequence, tools and strategies for data collection, management and modelling are developed. The arising challenges are mainly connected to data management and provision as well as the interpretation of the data and models to identify potentials, conflicts or threads (Watson et al., 2017, Schokker et al., 2016).

4.2. Boundaries: legal and institutional setting

Similar to the geology, the legal environment coupled with the involved institutions constitutes a local baseline or starting point for planning and management of the subsurface. Whereas the tools for data collection and modelling are of technical nature and transferrable between locations, conditions for data management and sharing are determined by the legal and cultural environment and therefore differ from country to country as well as among cities. The legal and institutional environment is diverse and planning law as well as other areas of law that relate to subsurface management such as mining, water, energy, infrastructure, or environmental protection (see for example von der Tann, Metje, Admiraal, & Collins, 2018). In addition, the local governance regime, and evaluation of it, strongly depends on the visions and development objectives set in local, regional and national socio-economic strategies and is embedded in the local culture. These strategies will need to be considered as they influence strategic decisions such as prioritization of specific functions over others. As recent examples of a subsurface specific strategy and a change of planning law that will most probably influence the consideration of the subsurface in various ways, and can foster a systemic approach, the underground masterplan for Singapore and the new planning law in the Netherlands will be discussed below.

A comprehensive overview of legal aspects would go beyond the scope of this paper, but the question of ownership and registration of subsurface space is recurrent and shall briefly be mentioned: Commonly, the law distinguishes between the space and its content, such as mineral resources or archaeological findings (Sandberg, 2003). Who owns the land and who has a right to use it and the resources it contains is not necessarily linked. For example, whilst the land (or volume) is often owned by the surface land owner, the minerals may be owned by the state who would also be the authority to give consent for exploitation. Utility companies do not usually own the space where their pipes and cables are laid but they own the assets and have a right to use the space (typically by law in public rights-of-way and by easement across private land). In many countries the law stipulates that who owns the surface also owns the subsurface to the middle of the earth, preventing or at least complicating the adoption of more systemic approaches to space allocation. In a few countries ownership of land is restricted to specific depth or specific functions. For a comprehensive review and discussion of these topics see Sandberg (2003). In the currently prevailing understanding of ownership, the possibility to establish different ownership models relies on the development of 3D cadasters, as for example discussed by Kim and Heo (2017) for the case of Korea. The current efforts to establish a masterplan for Singapore (see Section 4.3.1) show the significance of having coherent datasets about the geology and existing underground assets (Section 4.1) as well as establishing coherent ownership and use models.

For further reading, a few publications are listed here that give descriptions of planning frameworks or aspects of those: on the national level, the review by the International Tunnelling Association (ITA) working group on subsurface planning (ITA, 1991) collated information from 19 countries; and, more recently, Germany (Bartel and Jansen, 2016) and Japan (Japan Tunnelling Association, 2000), for example. Descriptions of aspects of subsurface governance in particular cities can be found for instance in Li et al. (2013a) for Helsinki, Amsterdam, Montreal and Tokyo, in Reynolds and Reynolds (2015) for New York and London, or in the city reports for the recently concluded COST sub-urban project (sub-urban.squarespace.com).

4.2.1. The new environment and planning law in the Netherlands

In the Netherlands, a new Environment and Planning Act (EPA) has been introduced and is expected come into force in 2021 (Ministerie van Binnenlandse Zaken en Koninkrijksrelaties, 2018). This Act combines and replaces 26 laws as well as a range of regulations and guidelines concerning the physical environment (Ministrie von Infrastructuur en Milieu, 2018b). It thereby overcomes the dichotomy between the built and the natural environment or more general between society/culture and nature that is still prevalent and integrates the legislation for various environmental sectors, which is currently perceived as scattered and fragmented (de Graef et al., 2018). Even though the term system is only used with regard to the legislative system in the Act and the according Explanatory Memorandum (Ministrie von Infrastructuur en Milieu, 2018a, Ministrie von Infrastructuur en Milieu, 2018b), and the act is not specifically about the subsurface, the subsurface is inherent in it as the EPA integrates amongst others the Earth Removal Act, the Water Act, the Mining Act and the Soil Protection Act with the Spatial Planning Act, and it comprises many of the elements of a system approach described above:

(1)

The EPA emphasizes the necessity to work across sectors, recognize the mutual relationships between different elements of the environment and formulate and achieve ‘interrelated objectives’. The Memorandum sets out that the role of government here is to link and monitor.

(2)

The EPA’s core element is a policy cycle of development of a vision, programming and rules design, implementation (permits and projects) and feed-back mechanisms (monitoring and evaluation). The Explanatory memorandum states: “the cyclical approach is a manifestation of a paradigm shift: from preservation and protection towards an active approach in order to continuously strive towards good quality of the physical environment.”

(3)

The EPA sets out an overarching purpose that is the quality of the physical environment as a whole. Thresholds for environmental values such as water or air quality stemming from European regulation are adopted as minimal parameters.

(4)

The EPA embraces emergence as a quality by aiming at encouraging and facilitating initiatives from members of the public or local authorities. It thus emphasizes a bottom up strategy of empowerment rather than control.

(5)

The EPA emphasizes stakeholder engagement, accountability and responsibilities.

 

Even if the subsurface is not separately addressed in the EPA, the definition of soil as the solid component of the earth, including the liquid and gaseous components and organisms contained (Ministrie von Infrastructuur en Milieu, 2018a) indicates a more holistic way of thinking about the subsurface as the separation between the soil as component of the earth which enables the growth of plants and deeper layers of the subsurface is abolished in this definition. The EPA will undoubtedly influence relevant decisions about interventions in and planning efforts that affect the subsurface.

4.2.2. The underground masterplan in Singapore

In 2007, the Singapore government set up an Underground Master Plan Task Force, with three key objectives: (a) to develop an underground master plan, (b) to identify imminent potential projects and resolve technical issues and funding mechanisms, and (c) to surface policy changes to facilitate underground development. In 2010, the Economic Strategies Committee (ESC) under the Prime Minister’s Office made specific recommendations on underground space use, and thus elevated the use of underground space to a strategic level (ESC, 2010). The ESC report made a key recommendation to invest in creating and using underground space, and that the government should take a lead in:

(1)

Creating basement spaces in conjunction with new underground infrastructural developments (e.g. rail) to add to its land bank;

(2)

Developing an underground master-plan to ensure that underground and aboveground spaces are synergized and better integrated with surrounding developments and infrastructure;

(3)

Establishing a national geology office to collate underground information that will benefit both private and public sector efforts in underground development;

(4)

Developing a subterranean land rights and valuation framework to facilitate underground development; and investing in underground development R&D and directly investing in cavern level.

 

The importance of developing an underground master plan was recognized early in defining the Terms of Reference for the Task Force. However, the difficulties and challenges, especially the type of technical and policy input required, were probably underestimated. One major challenge was the lack of 3D geological information and accurate data on existing underground infrastructure (Zhou and Zhao, 2016). Other challenges included identifying the types of underground space applications and developing a vertical zoning framework to address the 3D nature of underground space use, coordination and integration among various government agencies, different applications, and integrating aboveground and underground space development (Zhao and Künzli, 2016).

To address these important information gaps, the government conducted a series of studies and set up a National Geology Office charged with investigating the bedrock geology with the main aim of providing 3D geological data for underground space planning and developing a cavern suitability map (Lim, 2009, Zhou and Cai, 2011, Lui et al., 2012, Zhou and Zhao, 2016). One of the more impactful studies is a benchmarking study, which explored international best practices and compared Singapore to several leading cities in the world in the areas of legislation, standards, policy, planning, and actual usage of underground space (URA, 2013, URA, 2018, Zhou and Zhao, 2016). The results of this study will no doubt provide critical input to the master planning activities in Singapore.

To address the issue of underground space ownership, the Singapore Parliament in 2015 passed two legislations addressing the issue of ownership and acquisition of underground space: the State Lands (Amendment) Act 2015, and the Land Acquisition (Amendment) Act 2015. The State Lands (Amendment) Act 2015 defines ownership of the subterranean space as land includes only as much of the subterranean space as is reasonably necessary for the use and enjoyment of the land. It further defines reasonable use as being: (a) such depth of subterranean space as stated in the State title for that land, or (b) if no such depth is specified, subterranean space to 30 m below the Singapore Height Datum. The Land Acquisition (Amendment) Act 2015 allows the acquisition of a specific stratum of underground space. However, some legal issues related to the use of underground space remain. These include the first rights of use, liability of one ownership to another, offset required for underground stability, movement of fluids underground and responsibility for flooding underground, as well as entrance for the construction and later use of the underground space. Efforts by the relevant government agencies were needed to address and clarify these issues.

This example shows the imperative and complexity involved in the establishment of a legal and technical baseline if the development of a holistic or systemic strategy for use allocation in the underground is sought.

4.3. Approaches for planning and management: Strategies and tools

Whilst the consensus about geology as baseline appears self-evident in a systems approach, the two examples above reinforce a second consensus or underlying assumption in the literature that might be less obvious: the allocation of the task for better management of the subsurface and all its divers uses in the planning discipline or, vice versa, the extension of the realm of urban or spatial planning to involve the subsurface or at least build awareness of the subsurface and its importance for the city. If planning is defined as the institutionalized “process through which a vision, actions, and means for implementation are produced that shape and frame what a place is and may become.” (Albrechts, 2004), it directly connects the idea of the subsurface with place making and thus with the surface and how people use the urban space, increasing the complexity of the problem area.

4.3.1. Strategies: masterplans

Masterplans have been mentioned as a desirable tool or strategy for subsurface management by various authors. It was in particular promoted by Bobylev (2009) and authors often refer to the cases of Helsinki (Bartel and Janssen, 2016, Price et al., 2016, Sterling et al., 2012) or Montreal (Delmastro et al., 2016, Durmisevic, 1999) when suggesting that masterplans for underground space or including underground space are needed. The Helsinki underground masterplan sets out the allocation of underground space for a variety of public and private developments for the whole city and its establishment was practicable due to the fact that the bedrock under Helsinki is well suited for tunneling (Vähäaho, 2014). Montreal developed an extensive pedestrian network underground (Boivin, 1991) the main driver being described as the severely cold climate in winter as well as the strategic aim to create a compact city with combined transport systems (Durmisevic, 1999). Other cities mentioned frequently in this context are Singapore (Zhou and Zhao, 2016, see also Section 4.2.2) and Hong Kong, for both of which the scarcity of land is described as a main reason to explore and manage underground development opportunities (e.g. Delmastro et al., 2016, Price et al., 2016, Sterling et al., 2012). Zhao et al. (2016) list eleven Chinese cities that in some way integrate underground space in their masterplans.

In general, the term ‘masterplan’ can be associated with a variety of meanings; With reference to the example of Helsinki, Delmastro et al. (2016) describe masterplans as documents guiding allocation of space specifically for construction, integrating a map of existing and future facilities and safeguarded volumes and routes, as well as technical requirements. They emphasize that both, long term underground master plans as well as sectoral plans for transportation, leisure and commerce, and technical systems are needed. Similarly, Zhao et al. (2016) describe masterplans for underground space as planning for systematic development and utilization of subsurface space in urban areas with a focus on arrangement of underground structures. Underlying this idea are zoning plans which reflect a specific understanding of planning as present in some but not all national planning systems (see Newman and Thornley, 1996). Bobylev (2009) by contrast writes about masterplans that go beyond the allocation of engineered structural interventions only but are strategic documents that specify design principles and concepts to guide change and development in a whole city. These are different to zoning plans as described above as well as to site development masterplans that are dealing with a specific property development proposition (Bell, 2005). Bobylev in particular stresses the importance of sustainabilityconsiderations in these documents and describes how consideration of the subsurface including all its potential functions rather than only engineered structural interventions, can contribute to achieving these goals. The necessary actions to achieve an integration of the subsurface in these high-level planning documents are summarized in Bobylev (2009) as:

(1)

understanding the baseline (geological model, three-dimensional mapping),

(2)

prospective planning (establishing needs, risks and benefits for potential uses),

(3)

assessment and analysis (vulnerability, scenarios, weighing of different uses), and

(4)

decision-making (integrated assessment, analysis of potential conflicts, priority setting).

 

Whereas this list includes many aspects of systems approaches as discussed, review, monitoring or learning are not mentioned in Bobylev (2009). Scenarios are mentioned directed at specific selected solutions rather than for the development of the city as a whole and cost-benefit-analysis is listed as the prime tool in the context of identification of needs for underground structures and developments. Masterplans as a tool have been criticized in the 1970s as being too static and it was questioned if they can answer upcoming questions in time. Cooper et al. (1971) pointed out that a masterplan “can be regarded as one form of systems approach” but adds for consideration that it might “rest on a methodology and an associated point of view which are not adequate for dealing with an increasingly complex and dynamically changing urban scene.” However, since then views have changed and the term is now used for a variety of strategic documents. For example, Amirtahmasebi et al. (2016) emphasize that a masterplan has to be understood as “dynamic long-term planning document that provides a conceptual layout to guide future growth and development.” and that it is important to be able to change the plan based on changing conditions. Consequently, whether masterplanning can be referred to as a systems approach – with the masterplan as the according tool – cannot be answered generically but depends on the specific masterplan, how it is designed, established, and monitored (see for example the new masterplan for Singapore, Section 4.2.2).

4.3.2. Strategies: circular process approaches

Rather than focusing on the resulting plan and what it should entail, the Deep City Project as first described by Parriaux et al. (2007) and further elaborated on by Li et al., 2013a, Li et al., 2013b, Doyle, 2016 introduces a process for the development and ongoing improvement of a strategic plan for sustainable management of what they call underground resources. It emphasizes the role of the four resources groundwater, geothermal energy, geomaterials and space for urban development and stresses the idea of combined use of the same volume for various functions. Li et al. (2013a) describe a general process of plan-making in two strategic (policy making and criteria framing) and four operational steps (data collection, mapping of resource and development potentials, evaluation of projects and analysis of decisions), where the policy making is the last step and leads back to a revision of the criteria set to evaluate success of the overall process. Apart from the circularity, the approach also emphasizes the involvement of stakeholders in various steps of criteria framing and weighting of indicators. In that, the general vision of the particular city looked at is taken into account and it is accepted that not every city might need an underground specific plan. Li et al. (2013a) develop an applicability score – a method to assess whether a particular city requires management of the underground building on estimates of supply and demand of the four resources, driving forces, as well as a classification of the available information. In the Deep City method, the collection and analysis of the data above described as physical baseline is part of the circular process and thus it is accepted that technology and data needs might change. However, the categorization of the contribution of the subsurface to the urban physical environment in four resources remains unquestioned.

Asset Management of the Subsurface (AMS), a method still under development, described by Maring and Blauw (2018), also distinguishes between the strategic and operational level. Instead of focusing on the subsurface as a manageable space, and building on a pre-defined set of categories, Maring and Blauw (2018) suggest to understand all structures in the ground but also the ground itself and the services it provides as assets and to apply methods of asset management. The definition and importance of the assets can change with the challenge looked at. The strategic step in this method is described as evaluation as to how the subsurface can contribute to the achievement of the visions and objectives a city. By doing so, it emphasizes that how the subsurface might or might not be used best is not independent of overarching policy ambitions. The other three steps are: (1) preparation of an asset management plan, (2) implementation, and (3) maintenance and evaluation. Basing the approach in a framework that is already applied in practice (asset management), Maring and Blauw (2018) aim to reduce the threshold for acceptance of the need to integrate the subsurface in a variety of municipal considerations. However, they also point out that necessary adjustments of the standard asset management approach to enable consideration and maintenance of functions rather than objects, alongside the change in time-spans that would need to be considered, are challenging.

4.3.3. Strategies: decision support system for social acceptance

Building on theory of decision making, in particular multi-criteria analysis and decision approaches, rather than planning theory, van Os et al., 2016, van Os et al., 2017 explicitly describe a decision support system for planning decisions regarding subsurface activities. The modular evaluation method for subsurface activities (MEMSA) is focused on social acceptance of the various activities possible and on the dimensions of a decision-making process with the aim to shift the focus away from pure profitability considerations to integration of the community through transparency and participation. It builds in a first step on an evaluation of potentials and their relation for concurrent or sequential use in a specific geological volume. In this, importantly, also the options to do nothing now or even do nothing forever are included. Consequently, acceptance of a project is scored separately in three classes: market acceptance (investment behavior, risk perception), social political acceptance(contribution to policy objectives) and community acceptance, and finally combined in a final ranking.

Being directed more at large scale, deep subsurface activities, van Os et al. (2017) emphasize that for a successful project implementation, policy goals need to be re-evaluated on a regular basis “to account for timing discrepancies between the realization of activities and policy deadlines, because this discrepancy can have a large impact on the necessity and therefore acceptance of subsurface activity”.

A similarly comprehensive approach to weigh different potential functions in a specific location could not be found in literature. However, multi-criteria decision-making approaches that rank possible alternatives by assessing a range of parameters including stakeholder views and cost-benefit considerations (Kabir et al., 2013), have been applied to a variety of subsurface related functions.

4.3.4. Tools: stakeholder engagement

In their method System Exploration of the Subsurface (SEES) Hooimeijer and Maring (2018) provide a method for knowledge exchange between practitioners focusing on a specific project area. Their aim is to unify the perception of the surface and the subsurface, and ultimately integrate the subsurface into established urban design processes. Four categories of subsurface use are distinguished – civil constructions, energy, water and soil. These shall integrate a large range of ecosystem services into a limited number of categories useful for the urban design process. Hooimeijer and Maring understand their approach as based in systems thinking and complexity theory, dealing with “inherent unexpected behaviour of agents”. The tool itself consists of a matrix with subsurface use categories on the X-axis and what they define as layers of planning on the Y-axis (people, metabolism, public space, infrastructure and subsurface). The tool is used in workshops to explore with groups of specialists influences and interdependencies of these categories in each of the planning layers. Even if emergent properties of the system itself are not studied, the method supports knowledge exchange and provides a thinking framework in which unknown synergies or problems can emerge and facilitates alignment of the overall project objectives and integration of further steps.

4.3.5. Tools: potential maps

For the second operational step of the Deep City approach (see above), Li et al., 2013a, Li et al., 2013b, Doyle, 2016 present maps of potentials specifically for construction (Li et al., 2013b) and the four resources (Doyle, 2016). Li et al. (2013b) develop evaluation criteria for different depths and explore their relative importance for evaluation of resource demand and supply in cooperation with local professionals. Doyle (2016)extends and refines the method for evaluation and mapping of potentials with the aim to shift the understanding of the subsurface from a resource or place that can satisfy urban needs to a potential that can be explored in the process of urban planning (Doyle, Thalmann and Parriaux, 2016). Doyle (2016) points out that the generation of these maps involves primary data gathering as well as assignment of resource related characteristics to the geological formations present. In a second step, surface data is included to assess the suitability of actual resource exploitation and inform the planning process.

Potential or suitability maps have also been used in other contexts. Hooimejer and Maring (2018) introduce a different kind of potential map: rather than showing what could be used in the area looked at, they overlay different information layers which illustrate the impact of subsurface assets on the surface. These maps are meant as an interactive tool or design guideline for an urban designer and focus on comparatively small areas and not on the city as a whole.

Rather than assessing the potentials of a site or area, Wassing and van der Krogt (2006) developed a set of suitability maps to assess the suitability of an area for building a specific kind of development. The maps are based on geotechnical, geochemical and geohydrological properties of the ground which are, in a second stage, weighted according to how they would influence future scenarios. The authors mention that the weighting is “somewhat arbitrary and subjective” and that the relevance of geological as well as socio-economic aspects will rely on the perception of the respective planner and project they have in mind.

Potential maps seem to be a valid tool for communication of information that is traditionally held in the technical disciplines to the planning and design disciplines. However, it is important to be aware that they are based on a previous definition of what is seen as potentials, i.e. a decision as to what is being mapped. Suitability maps for specific sites or areas are responding to specific demands or created as support tools for specific decisions. All of these tools produce an additional set of information to allow an intuitive use of technical subsurface information in the planning or design process.

4.3.6. Tools: scenarios

As can be seen with the potential and suitability maps described, there are attempts to look at what the ground could provide (supply) and those which focus/start from looking at the need (demand). In particular the latter relies on methodologies to predict or foresee the future, but also the former can change depending on the urban development and climate change and thus at least require constant updating. In planning strategies, both, supply and demand, need to be balanced and it has to be set out how these are determined.

Different to forecasting, scenario approaches aim to provide a set of possible futures which can be compared and assessed to inform decisions. They can be applied at different scales and with different focuses. In the context of subsurface planning, as described above, Wassing and van der Krogt (2006) use scenarios to assess the relative importance of different geological parameters for specific developments. Hooimejier et al. (2017) design subsurface related provoking scenarios – extreme design solutions to current planning tasks – and challenge groups of practitioners in workshops to concretize these scenarios in an explorative manner to create a feasible vision for a city area. Rather than a concrete solution for a specific task, here possibilities and relationships are explored and cross-disciplinary conversations are fostered. Rogers (2018) presents an assessment approach for engineering interventions in cities in that (a) the aspirations the city and citizens associate with the intervention are tested through the development and contrasting of future visions, (b) interventions are tested in the current situation as well as in the context of four extreme future scenarios, and (c) assessing alternative business models for implementation. The approach is not focused on subsurface interventions but is particularly relevant in view of the longevity of these interventions.

4.3.7. Valuation

Commonly, engineering interventions in the subsurface are assessed with cost-benefit-analyses (CBA). In these analyses, particularly for underground infrastructure it has proven difficult to equally account for the initial capital cost and the long term social and environmental benefits (ITA, 2004). No explicit market for underground space exists and consequently other ways to assess its value are needed (Pasqal and Riera, 2005).

The problem of value capture for projects or services whose values cannot simply be translated into monetary units is not unique to subsurface space management. De Groot (2006), for example, developed a method for comparative analysis and valuation of different land use functions, and new terms like social value (e.g. Frischmann, 2012) or social return on investment (e.g. Lingane and Olsen, 2004) gain importance for a variety of decisions in the built environment.

Related to the urban subsurface, Coogan (1979) developed a valuation scheme for subsurface developments including nine parameters: need, scarcity, substitutability, duration of change resulting from the use, rate of change once the use has begun, primary and secondary impact on the surrounding area, revocability of the decision for a particular use once the commitment is made, and need for an orderly decision on the use before the commitment. For more specific functions, Lim et al. (2016)evaluate the public value of soil remediation in Korea, and Matthews et al. (2015) assess the social cost of pipeline infrastructure. Maring and Blauw (2018) suggest to refer to methods that have been applied for ecosystem service valuation and provide an overview over these methods.

Instead of assigning monetary value equivalents, multi-criteria decision frameworks aim at the integration of CBA with other relevant criteria for project or intervention decisions (Kabir et al., 2013). Whilst these approaches support specific project decisions, a more general understanding of values of the subsurface for various aspects of urban life, including for example precautionary measures for natural disasters, and systemic approaches that are able to assist with the evaluation of different options for specific projects or locations as well as overarching planning objectives still need to evolve (see also Section 4.3.4).

4.3.8. Benchmarking and comparison

It has been mentioned in the introduction to this section that there appears to be an underlying assumption in the literature about integrating the underground or subsurface into urban planning strategies. These strategies are often informed by Urban Indicators that can be used for comparison between cities as well as for longitudinal studies by measuring the development of indicators over time. The subsurface is not currently covered by the established indicator schemes (Bobylev, 2016). Bobylev (2016) proposes a list of underground space related indicators for inclusion, including if regional planning is taking into account the geological and hydrogeological setting and quantitative measures of underground space use. Admiraal and Cornaro (2018)emphasize that underground space functions contribute or can contribute to seven of the 16 sustainable development goals set by the United Nations (United Nations, 2015). However, correlation of these indicators with other indicators for overarching objectives like sustainability or resilience could not be shown and needs further investigation.

Indicators are one way to benchmark the development of a city in a specific topic area and comparison with other cities can provide valuable insights for policy makers. For the development of the masterplan for Singapore, the Urban Redevelopment Authority of Singapore commissioned a benchmark study about underground developments (URA, 2018, see Section 4.2.2) to learn about underground planning efforts worldwide. The already mentioned COST action (sub-urban.squarespace.com) supported short-term missions through which two cities could create direct exchange about specific subsurface related topics. However, whereas in several publications specific aspects of underground related aspects of the planning regime (e.g. Li et al., 2013a) or specific parameters (e.g. Bobylev, 2016) are listed for several cities, in depth comparisons between two or more cities are lacking in the literature.

5. Discussion

The described strategies set out in recent literature as well as initiatives on local and national levels throughout the world show that the necessity to integrate the subsurface into management and planning strategies for the built environment is becoming more urgent. Ultimately, the purpose of planning within the subsurface is to optimize the spatial allocation of structures and volumes for natural services in the subsurface as well as above ground. This is a shift from managing underground resources including geomaterials and water primarily following economic and ecological principles on the one hand and efficient delivery of underground structures with a focus on capital cost and return on investment on the other hand to holistic spatial optimization and the question of how to prioritize, value and allocate a variety of uses without blocking future potentials.

Spatial allocation and mapping become more complex when natural resources and services are taken into consideration because the spatial limits or zones of physical influence of these uses are less clear and a wider range of people and interest groups is influenced by the according decisions. As interrelations of different uses and potentials of, as well as interventions in, the subsurface are complex, new approaches are needed that can capture these complexities to adequately analyze and manage the different functions of the subsurface and thus to unlock the value of underground space for cities. Systems approaches appear to be the way to describe and deal with these complexities by changing the focus of analysis and practice from elements to processes and continuous learning, integrating commonly separated areas of analysis or expertise and including citizen’s attitudes and reactions to embrace the dynamic nature of urban development (Cooper et al., 1971).

Assessments of potentials for and potential conflicts between uses, as well as scenario approaches are promising tools that draw on the principles of systems thinking and can provide useful tools to determine the comparative values of different interventions rather than focusing on capital project cost. As a baseline for these approaches and urban planning decisions that include the subsurface, understanding of the local governance framework and three-dimensional mapping of geology and present assets are necessary, as can for example be seen in the current efforts undertaken in Singapore, even if the collection and sharing of data for continuous improvement of models are still challenging.

The examples of the masterplan for Singapore and the new law in the Netherlands that have been presented show how large the range of possible approaches is: The Whole-of Government Approach in Singapore addresses the integration of different sectors on an institutional level with the idea that reintegration of sectors needs to come through governmental leadership (top-down) rather than from industry (bottom-up). The new law in the Netherlands also aims at integrating disciplines at institutional level but does so explicitly to encourage and enable bottom-up initiatives. Both can be considered as systemic approaches and constitute a form of integration of traditionally separated governmental sectors. However, the local conditions in the Netherlands mean that local communities are likely to be affected by climate change effects such as sea level rise and flooding and thus in this setting it appears sensible to pass decisions – and consequently acceptance of their implications – down to the affected communities. In the Singapore setting, a rising population density and continuing economic development has meant increasing competition for the limited land resource. As such, the underground is now considered a strategic resource for future economic growth. This realization, coupled with the complexity of underground space development and supported by a strong government, makes a top-down approach to planning the best way to achieve optimal benefits at the highest system level.

As these examples show, given the strong dependence of approaches to local conditions, there is no one fits all solution to subsurface planning and management nor is that kind of solution sought, however there are a few common principles evolving, including the described baseline, the integration or at least communication across traditional disciplines and the idea of continuous review and learning. To capture the variety at local level, a plurality of approaches is necessary, covering a range of spatial and temporal scales and covering top-down governmental as well as bottom-up community initiatives and the evolving methodologies should be seen as complementary rather than exclusive. Comparative analyses into how different governance regimes enable or disable subsurface management or have done so in the past as well as of the implications of different overarching city visions on subsurface space use would be valuable to inform future decisions. Thought experiments about ideal subsurface use in a specific geological setting pristine of human influence could provide further insight.

One recurring challenge in the field is the integration and study of interrelation of particular projects with overarching planning aims as they might act at very different scales. Whilst the complexity of the whole system persists, the complexity of particular projects can be reduced through careful boundary definition. For specific projects, integration of maintenance and repair is often overlooked during the planning stage and life-cycle-approaches for these projects integrated with systems approaches for subordinate planning are needed. This integration is challenging as it raises questions such as at what point in the planning process the decision for a specific project to go ahead should be taken. This moment in time will define how the boundaries for the respective project are set. Currently, once a decision is taken or a planning application is approved, a lot of project parameters are fixed. Long completion times as well as – compared to surface structures – longer life times can create lock-in effects. As the rate of change and technical innovation is increasing, materials and design principles specified at the beginning of construction might be outdated at the moment of completion.

To address these challenges, it would be desirable to shift the focus of planning efforts from projects to designing and revising processes. This has to be considered in particular for the preparation and implementation of new policies such as masterplans. As subsurface structures, once built, are perceived as fairly inflexible, integrating more flexibility and possibilities for readjustment into the construction process seems desirable and interventions should be comparatively assessed. For example, Multi Utility Tunnels on the one hand increase flexibility for utility construction and maintenance along the route but might reduce flexibility on the other hand by fixing these routes for a longer period. Strategies as to how more frequent feedback loops can be created and how the associated costs can be offset against the value that is created by involving younger generations and maintaining maximal flexibility are needed. This creation of flexible boundaries that can escape the traditional cost benefit thinking is a major challenge that needs to be addressed to enable cities to optimally react to threads and embrace opportunities that cannot yet be foreseen. One possible approach towards such strategies might be to investigate and compare related policy fields in which systems approaches are or have been applied such as, for example, water or resource management.

Whilst tools for valuation of social benefits and ecosystems services in the context of specific projects are being developed, how to integrate long-term effects and values that are not traditionally captured in capital cost and thus can be considered directly in cost benefit analyses is still an open question. On the project base, cost benefit analysis still does not allow for soft issues to be acknowledged by assigning “hard economic costs” to them. Also, to understand the importance of a specific design task within the broader system it influences and by which it is influenced remains a challenge. Current project studies usually cover either socio-economic variables or spatial and technical variables. In particular if projects are looked at retrospectively, the influence they continue to have on the geological and built environment is rarely analyzed. These kinds of studies would prove valuable to better understand the actual influence of subsurface interventions. Ultimately, integration into and acknowledgement of the subsurface in urban planning frameworks is necessary if an efficient and fair allocation of uses of the subsurface is sought.

6. Conclusions

In view of global challenges such as climate change, population growth, and pressures on surface space, the uses of the subsurface are increasing and more cities see the need to integrate the subsurface into management and planning strategies for the built environment. The geological setting and the built legacy of any city constitutes the basis for the feasibility of any urban strategy yet is rarely recognized as such.

This paper has provided an overview of the historical development of use and management of the subsurface in urban areas, introduced principles of systems thinking and presented a perspective on what elements systemic should be included in approaches for planning and management of the subsurface. It was discussed that whilst a multitude of interrelating systems in the subsurface need to be considered, alongside the interrelation of the subsurface with the city above and a large number of stakeholders, any approach has to be based on an understanding of the local settings. Challenges involved in understanding these geological and legal settings and literature on urban underground planning and management were reviewed on that basis.

The variety of proposed tools and strategies including masterplans, mapping of use potentials and scenario approaches, as well as the presented examples of Singapore and the Netherlands reinforce that whilst transferrable principles exist, for example with regard to the collection and interpretation of geological and utility data, any solution to underground management and planning builds on the local geological conditions and governance regime. An increasing number of individual cities and national governments are starting to address the topic of limited availability of subsurface space, but major questions such as the valuation of subsurface interventions compared to surface interventions as well as prioritization of subsurface functions over each other, are not yet resolved. A better understanding of who is affected by the use of underground space and who benefits from it is necessary. To do so, benchmarking and comparison of cities can provide useful insights.

The approaches presented in the literature show that a plurality of approaches is needed to capture the variety of spatial and temporal scales as well as geographical and legal situations and to accommodate the shift of worldview from linear systems to complex adaptive systems and management strategies in the context of allocation of uses in the (urban) subsurface. For a systems approach, shifting the focus of planning from projects to processes and the involvement of stakeholders are essential elements. Comparative studies in different scales and project studies in foresight and in hindsight covering both, socio-economic as well as spatial and technical variables, will be necessary to better understand the actual influence of subsurface interventions and further research in this area is needed.

The paper covers predominantly the literature that specifically mentions underground or subsurface space use. However, systems approaches have been successfully applied in related project and policy areas such as, for example, water management, and learning from these disciplines seems apposite, in particular if they should be integrated into a subsurface strategy. It would be interesting to see research across policy fields to investigate and develop transferable principles.

Ultimately, applying principles of systems thinking will enable decision makers to (i) better understand the role of the subsurface and the services or resources it can provide in specific urban settings and (ii) allocate subsurface space and rights to use in an equitable manner and ensure that our current use of the underground space does not compromise its use for future generations.

Acknowledgements

This work was supported by the EPSRC, UK funded Centre for Urban Sustainability and Resilience (Grant EP/G037698/1).

References

Cited by (34)

  • Geosystem services in urban planning

    2022, Sustainable Cities and Society
  • Urban heat transition and geosystem service provision: A trade-off? A study on subsurface space scarcity in the city of Amsterdam

    2022, Tunnelling and Underground Space Technology
  • Seismic behaviors of utility tunnel-soil system: With and without joint connections

    2022, Underground Space (China)
  • The role of integration for future urban water systems: Identifying Dutch urban water practitioners’ perspectives using Q methodology

    2022, Cities
  • The spatial vitality and spatial environments of urban underground space (UUS) in metro area based on the spatiotemporal analysis

    2022, Tunnelling and Underground Space Technology
  • Influential factors of spatial performance in metro-led urban underground public space: A case study in Shanghai

    2022, Underground Space (China)

    View all citing articles on Scopus

1

The terms subsurface, subsurface space, underground and underground space are here used interchangeably. Some authors use subsurface space or underground space to describe the space that is man-made, others would include all human uses of the subsurface into this term. As a discussion of terminology is not the focus of this paper, here all terms are used and a differentiation is left to the reader.

2

For example the Deep City Project (Parriaux et al., 2007), Smart City Projects at the University of Cambridge (University of Cambridge, 2017), COST Sub-Urban (http://sub-urban.squarespace.com/), Integrated spatial planning, land use and soil management research action (http://www.inspiration-h2020.eu/), Mapping and Assessing the Underworld (University of Birmingham 2005–2018, http://www.mappingtheunderworld.ac.uk/, http://www.assessingtheunderworld.org/.

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Going Underground and Looking Up: Designing for Future-Ready Cities

Going Underground and Looking Up: Designing for Future-Ready Cities

Engineers Envision Urban Areas That Will Be Home to Billions More By 2050

Engineering has always been about building for what lies ahead—creating lasting legacies in the form of extraordinary buildings or resilient infrastructure that can stand for centuries. David Symons, sustainability director for Canadian engineering firm WSP, looks at some of the ways the profession is designing now to be ready for the future.

Now more than ever we need to adopt a future-ready approach to design that anticipates developing trends in climate, society, technology and resources. And although we can’t see precisely into the future, we can build schemes that will be adaptable to suit our changing needs.

We are asking engineers to think about ways to support the hotter, windier, wetter cities that are predicted for decades hence. And that can involve a mind-boggling range of solutions to meet—for instance, the demands set in UN Sustainable Goal 11 focusing on rapid urbanisation.

The United Nations predicts that more than half of humanity, around 5 billion people, will be living in cities by 2030. By 2050 this number will reach over 6 billion. In 2019 cities house 3.5 billion people and occupy just 3% of the Earth’s land but account for 60% to 80% of energy consumption and 75% of carbon emissions. What can engineers do to create places that are safe, comfortable and healthy to live in long into the future?

Is your business looking for ideas on making a positive environmental impact? Check this free online report from B Lab that compiles articles and resources to help your business become a climate leader. Whether you work at a large company or an agency, get inspired to do more today.

Options can include creating space without encouraging urban sprawl by building upward and—more challengingly—downward, and planning everything with a fundamental switch to electrical power in mind to reduce carbon emissions.

Solutions don’t necessarily have to be expensive, but they do require engineers to build in flexibility upfront and to explain that need to their clients. Engineers are by definition problem-solvers, and we are challenging them to be at the heart of solving the big issues of the future. We are giving them the chance to create something compelling and exciting that will be around for hundreds of years. Future-ready really is at the leading edge of intelligent engineering.

Let’s look in detail at just one aspect: How you can create extra space in densely developed cities.

Taking Urban Development Underground

Cities are gaining 77 million new residents each year, equivalent to the population of Turkey or Germany and twice that of California. Over the first three decades of this century, the global increase in land cover is expected to be greater than all urban expansion so far in human history. Urban centres ranging in size from 500,000 to 10 million residents will continue to evolve, putting land in these high-density areas at a premium.

Underground construction is creating sustainable opportunities and approaches to address those realities. And there is a growing recognition that the future should include integrated cities where underground facilities link with infrastructure and make life above ground more enjoyable.

I’d argue that we must start planning for the underground city now.

Of course, this is not a new concept. In the early 1960s, Montreal embarked on a visionary project designed to cover exposed railway tracks connected to the Central Station in the heart of downtown. The initial development connected an office tower, an underground shopping mall, a major hotel and the station via a pedestrian tunnel system. This has since developed into a network spanning 33 kilometres that is used by as many as 500,000 people and contains bus terminals, business, housing, restaurants, parking, university pavilions and much more.

Sixty years later, there are a growing number of schemes around the world that include plans below the pavement.

For example, in north-central Paris an abandoned underground parking garage below a 300-unit affordable housing complex has become the La Caverne subterranean farm — 3,500 square metres of underground permaculture that produces 54 tonnes of vegetables and mushrooms annually.

And in March, Singapore’s Urban Redevelopment Authority unveiled its 2019 draft masterplan proposals for an inclusive, sustainable and resilient city that included designating three areas to develop underground. The strategy intends to free up surface land for people-centric uses by relocating utilities, transport, storage and industrial facilities underground.

At WSP we are engaged in future-ready underground infrastructure around the world.

In Sweden we are involved in redeveloping the Slussen Bus Terminal in central Stockholm into an underground transport hub linking commuters with buses, trains and metro lines. With surface space at a premium, the decision was made to excavate more than 250,000 square metres of rock to create caverns to house the new underground terminal. When the work is complete in 2023, surface space will be freed up for redevelopment as part of a dynamic new urban quarter.

And in Mexico, Garden Santa Fe in Mexico City is an above-ground park complete with a running track and terrace that surrounds a seven-level underground shopping centre housing retail stores, entertainment, a food court and three levels of parking. Central to the scheme are three inverted glass cones that project natural light and ventilation into the mall.

For more information on what is going on with underground construction worldwide, download the WSP report Taking Urban Development Underground.

Creating Space Out of Thin Air

That’s down, but what about up? Cities have been building skyscrapers for a long time, but finding land for them as development becomes denser and pricier in cities will be a future challenge.

But with clever engineering, space can be conjured out of thin air. At Principal Tower in London we have helped create a new 50-story mixed-use development in the air above railway lines but so discreetly that residents never know that trains are running beneath the buildings.

Buildings have been erected over railways before, but the really tricky part for us was that almost half of the Principal Tower’s foundation had to leave space beneath in a protected corridor for potential tracks in and out of Liverpool Street station — known as the eight-track corridor. At the same time the architect did not want the conventional, visible, massive arches or A frames that are the usual options for bridging rail lines, so a primary objective was to develop a design that looked like it was built on solid ground. Our solution had to be a hidden gem.

We devised a design that involved forming the sides of the protected rail corridor, effectively creating a tunnel.

Future-ready engineering can conjure space out of thin air. (Photo courtesy WSP)

Principal Tower has been a showcase of what is possible with precision engineering in the empty space over railway lines. And the possibilities of that space have been the subject of research at WSP to tease out the full potential of creating space for infrastructure to address London’s housing crisis.

In our study Out of Thin Air, we analysed London’s rail infrastructure and concluded that development of its most viable “overbuild” sites could potentially provide the city with more than 250,000 new homes — or several years’ housing supply. A follow-up report, Out of Thin Air One Year On, aimed to identify the best sites and in doing that found that more than 280,000 new homes are possible at rail overbuild sites.

The benefits of the approach are many. Clearly no new land or major demolition is required. But more importantly, the developments would offer a sustainable solution to urban development. They would give residents greater mobility, placing them closer to rail or metro stations while promoting the ridership of public transport, cutting car use and helping to reduce emissions and improve air quality.

The methodology we used to gauge overbuild potential can equally be employed to identify similar opportunities in any dense, space-constrained city anywhere in the world. Applying an informed estimate of 1,200 homes per hectare on rail land indicates that Melbourne, Australia, could create around 77,000 new homes within 10 kilometres of its centre, while Vancouver, Canada, could build 46,000 hew homes. In Copenhagen, the potential is almost 42,000 homes.

By taking a global perspective, engineers are able to draw on best practices from all over the world as they look to tailor solutions for specific circumstances such as growing populations. Future-ready is at the leading edge of intelligent engineering and will have a positive impact as this century unfolds.

The Energy Challenge

The “electrification of everything” is designed to reduce emissions of greenhouse gases and its effect will be largely felt in cities, which account for about 70% of carbon dioxide emissions. The transition to electricity will be one of the defining features of the cities of the future.

We are designing schemes in anticipation of an electric lifestyle. In Bermondsey, London, a Grosvenor Estates proposal for 1,600 residential units and 14,800 square metres of flexible commercial space is designed with the idea that cars, heating and day-to-day life will be powered by electricity. We looked at how vehicle patterns mean that residents will move away from car ownership toward pool vehicles, with car club vehicles to be provided on site and facilities put in place in anticipation that many of these will be electric vehicles.

To cope with rising demand for energy, cities are developing innovative strategies to generate, distribute and consume energy as cleanly and efficiently as possible while addressing issues of reliability and security. One such strategy involves the use of microgrids and distributed energy systems.

These represent the next stage in the push toward electrification—a way to reach into the far corners where the big grids cannot go and to make electric service more reliable, clean and less costly.

Most will be located close to a point of consumption, generally in an area with a defined boundary such as a residential district, a university or corporate campus. Microgrids help reduce the cost and potential energy loss involved in transmitting electricity over long distances, support energy reliability because they can disconnect from the grid and operate in “islanded” mode under emergency conditions, and contribute to sustainability goals by incorporating renewable energy sources.

As an example, in Quebec, Canada, Hydro-Quebec is developing a microgrid in Lac-Megantic as a way of testing new technology with the goal of rolling it out elsewhere. Being planned with our assistance, the project calls for the installation of solar panels on 30 residential and commercial buildings with a total of 300 kW installed capacity, 300 kWh of battery storage and electric vehicle charging stations.

Around the world, engineers have signed up to the UN sustainability goals and are developing ways to meet the ambitions. What is clear to us, and should be for everyone involved in infrastructure, is that for future goals to be achieved, the hard work starts now.

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Why Tunnels in The US Cost Much More Than Anywhere Else in The World

Why Tunnels in The US Cost Much More Than Anywhere Else in The World

“The Most Expensive Mile of Subway Track on Earth”
is the title of an investigative report written by Brian M. Rosenthal of The New York Times in December 2017. It examined some of the subway tunnels in New York, comparing them to those of other parts of the country and the world.

By

The successful opening on January 1, 2017, of the Second Ave. Subway in one of New York’s most congested neighborhoods was overshadowed with its high cost at $2.5B per mile.

“The Most Expensive Mile of Subway Track on Earth” is the title of an investigative report written by Brian M. Rosenthal of The New York Times in December 2017. It examined some of the subway tunnels in New York, comparing them to those of other parts of the country and the world.

Although the article was critical of the tunneling industry and in particular in New York, there were a lot of truths in it raising eyebrows and inviting questions. Other articles and reports were written on the subject, revealing that this phenomenon is not limited to underground construction in New York only, but it extends throughout the United States. So why is tunnel construction more expensive in the United States than anywhere else in the world? And how can the cost be reduced in order to be able to afford more tunneling and underground projects?

The authors have examined potential root causes, identified differences with respect to other countries, and addressed ways of potentially closing the gap. This article shares their thoughts in the hope to improve the situation. The article focuses on underground transit projects where the tunnels are typically twin bore with inside diameters in the range of 20 ft (6 m) to 22 ft (6.7 m).

Table 1 – Comparison of tunnel cost in the U.S. vs Europe, Asia, and low-cost countries like India

 

Comparative Evaluation of Tunneling and Underground Project Costs

Table 1 provides a comparison of major projects from around the world; as can be seen, the cost of tunneling varies greatly around the world. It is easy to understand why tunnels in India, for example, are at much lower cost than those in United States, but why are they over 20 times cheaper than comparable projects in New York? And why are comparable projects in Europe generally constructed at lower cost than similar projects in the United States?

It should be noted that the comparative costs may have different work elements or parameters for different projects, but the indication of significant variations in the project overall cost is still valid. Another observation is that the Australian projects costs are closer to U.S. projects than any other country; this is believed due to the significant environmental requirements in Australia.

There are four main categories:

  1. New York: $1.5 – $2.5B per mile
  2. Other parts of United States and Australia: $600 – $900M per mile
  3. Europe, Middle East: $250 – $500M per mile
  4. India, China, Southeast Asia: $100 – $200M per mile

Of particular interest is why New York is so much more costly than the rest of the United States? And why both are significantly higher compared to Europe when the materials in the permanent works (concrete, rebar, track, electrometrical systems, etc.) are similar in prices for most cases? Also, why are the costs in India and China so low? Labor cost alone cannot account for these huge cost differences!

Cost Drivers

We examined the cost drivers in the United States for transit tunnel projects. The cost breakdown in the United States are generally as follow:

  • 35% Soft Costs including owner cost, preconstruction costs including EIS/EA, feasibility studies, program management consultant, design consultant, construction management, right of way easement, permits, insurance, finance, bonding, etc.
  • 10% Third Party Costs including utility diversions, remedial work, and stakeholders’ commitments
  • 55% Construction Cost

Evaluating the Construction cost alone, the approximate breakdown is as follows:

  • Labor – 40% to 50%
  • Permanent material 15% to 18%
  • Construction material, temporary works, consumables, etc. – 10% to 12%
  • Contractor construction equipment, TBM, etc. – 18% to 20%

The construction cost represents slightly more than 50% of the overall program cost, while soft costs and stakeholders’ commitments at 45% are significantly higher in comparison with other types of major projects or similar projects in other global regions.

Labor cost and construction schedule are the most important factors affecting the construction cost. Labor cost is often driven by labor union rules which vary significantly among states and cities. One of the highest labor costs of tunnel construction workers is the Sandhogs in New York which can be as high as $110/hr and on an overtime basis, it can reach over two to three times this value. Their rates are higher than other tunnel workers in the country and significantly higher than European or Asian workers rates. Also, the number of workers assigned in the tunnel in New York is significantly more than other parts of the country and as much as 4 times more than tunnel workers assigned to comparable projects in Europe. Tunneling being linear structures, the opportunities to accelerate the construction schedule in order to reduce overall labor cost are limited.

Underground Construction Cost Drivers

No doubt that the geology, geotechnical, and project setting are the main drivers of the project cost; however, there are several other factors that significantly impact the cost. As we discussed above, the labor cost and labor requirement are major factors. Other drivers include materials and plant required for the construction, which their labor cost also falls into the labor cost category. There are several other important factors that could impact the project overall cost which vary significantly from region to region and country to country. Some of these cost drivers include:

  • Construction risk sharing philosophy and applied contingencies in the bid price. The higher the risk transfer to the contractor, the higher the contingency included in the bid. The bid contingency will be paid for whether the risks and its costs materialize or not.
  • Procurement method and payment provisions. On lump sum projects, contingencies are often higher in the bid than on projects with more progressive procurement practices and risk sharing approaches.
  • Market structure, available opportunities in a particular area, potential competition, etc. A shortage of available local contractors and qualified workers will increase the bid price.
  • Soft costs including the owner’s cost, program manager, construction manager, designer, insurance, legal, bonding, etc. As discussed above, these could account to over 35% of the overall project cost.
  • Right-of-way (ROW) acquisition can be significantly high in major urban areas such as New York, San Francisco, or Los Angeles, and time consuming to obtain with significant legal and administrative costs.
  • Government approval processes and cost sharing mechanism including EIS/EIR processes; Federal, State and Local approvals; stakeholders approvals, permits, etc. add significant time, engineering, and administrative costs.
  • Funding and the cost of the money. Availability of Federal funds and the matching State and Local funds could be challenging at times.
  • Community and stakeholders’ provisions such as adding services or facilities to obtain buy-ins will add to scope work.
  • Owner’s sophistication in underground construction, willingness of risk sharing and fairness in application of its contract terms and conditions will affect the overall cost through added contingencies, change orders, and potential claims and disputes.
  • Labor and other laws including the Davis-Bacon Act, Buy-American and Buy-America Acts, local labor union rules and wages, etc.
  • Transportation Alternative Program, such as bike lanes, walking trails, street scaping, surface improvement, etc., add cost to transit projects.
  • The American public addiction to cars and the stronger “car lobby” impact the availability and the ability to fund underground transit projects.
  • Politicizing infrastructure projects resulting in delays, higher costs, and shortage of funding.

Table 2 provides a comparative level of influence of cost drivers in the United States vs other parts of the world.

Table 2 – Comparison of Influence of Cost Drivers on Project Costs by Regions

On infrastructure projects in the United States, bureaucracy in obtaining Federal funding often results in protracted studies from the conceptual planning phase through the environmental process and permitting, taking several years at best and sometimes over decades of studies and evaluations. Some projects were “on the books” for up to 40 or 50 years such as the Second Avenue Subway since the 1950s and the East Side Access in New York since the 1960s.

Availability of Federal funds and the Local match, or diversion of funds to other politically favorable projects result in further delays. A start-stop approach adds cost, especially if the program has started. Examples are the Access to the Region Core (former Gateway Program), which was cancelled after start of construction, and the Superconductor Super Collider, which was terminated after 60% of the construction was completed.

Why Are European Transit Tunnel Costs Lower?

Transit tunnel costs in Europe are about 50% less expensive than those in the United States and even significantly lesser than those in New York. Based on our evaluation, we outline below the main differences that create these cost differentials, it should be noted that European tunnel projects also suffer from some of the same costly issues experienced in the United States but to a lesser overall effect.

Although the material and equipment costs are similar (within 10%) for projects in the United States and in Europe, labor costs are substantially higher in the United States as outlined above. For example, in California the average billing labor rates for qualified tunnel workers is about $70/hr and the average New York labor rate of qualified tunnel workers is at over $100/hr, whereas in Germany (one of the high labor rates countries in Europe) the comparable labor rate is about $30/hr. In other European countries such as Spain, Portugal, Italy, Poland, etc., labor rates are even lower. The EU legislation allowing workers from lower paid countries such as Spain and Poland working in other EU countries keeps the labor cost low.

Union rules are significantly different in Europe vs the United States, especially as related to overtime and number of workers in a tunnel. For example, in New York, the number of workers at the face of the tunnel can be up to four times the number of workers required in Germany or Austria for similar projects. Overtime in the United States is paid using a factor of up to 2 or 3 of the base rates; while in Germany for example, overtime is compensated by time off instead.

Although environmental regulations and requirements in most European countries are as elaborate as U.S. regulations, the environmental review processes are generally better streamlined, and approval is obtained faster than in the United States.

Soft costs are significantly lower in European countries than in the United States. Owner’s cost, ROWs, planning, studies, environmental, insurance, and bonding costs are lower. Bonding and insurance requirements are fractions of those of projects in the United States. Real estate acquisition costs are also significantly lower and less time consuming.

Funding of infrastructure projects in Europe is typically 100% in place before the project detailed design starts; and often provided from the country central government, eliminating the ongoing rounds of Federal fund applications, State and Local matching funds, and the annual budgeting process of transit agencies which impact the start of projects and increasing their cost.

Infrastructure projects are evaluated and funded based on needs and economic benefits rather than political interests.

Mass transit is the way of life in Europe. People depend and favor mass transit over personal vehicles, thus obtaining favorable approvals from the people. Furthermore, the tendency now is that people are demanding underground transit projects rather than surface facilities, reserving the surface for more noble uses such as parks, green spaces, pedestrian and bike trails, and recreational and institutional facilities
European owners spend less time and money on planning, studies, conceptual developments, and detailed design. Most projects are implemented using the Design-Build model with the detailed design provided by the contractor during construction to suit his means and methods; this results in efficiency and eliminates repeating of design work.

Contract terms and conditions are generally uniform across Europe using the International Federation of Consulting Engineers (FIDIC) contracts. For the underground work, in 2019 FIDIC issued the “Conditions of Contract for Underground Works” (Emerald book) addressing risk sharing between the owner and the contractor. This results in less disputes, claims and litigations.

Higher experience and the number of tunneling contractors in Europe vs. the United States results in more competitive bids. EU regulations facilitate contractors’ ability of working in various countries and simplify the supply chains across borders.

Crossrail was built in the heart of London to similar standards to New York Projects at $500M per mile.

What Can Be Done to Manage Underground Construction Cost?

Although we don’t believe that U.S. project costs can be lowered to a level comparable to European costs, there are various elements that the industry can do to control skyrocketing costs. Among the cost elements that can be improved are:

  • Streamline the environmental and approval processes.
  • Establish an equitable risk sharing mechanism between the owner and contractor and properly implement it.
  • Establish unified contractual terms and conditions for underground work similar to the FIDIC Emerald Book.
  • Be fair and equitable in dealing with changes, disputes and claims.
  • Reevaluate the need of all soft costs: Owner, PM/CM, EIS/EA, Engineering, etc., lower bonding limits, less litigation, lower insurance cost, etc.
  • Revisit labor laws, rates, and union regulations and establish equitable Project Labor Agreements.
  • Pay for public amenities and community and stakeholders’ provisions through other funds rather than transit funds. There is no doubt that community improvements and services are needed, but infrastructure projects should not be the vehicles to fund such services or improvements.
  • Transportation Alternative Program is essential for sustainability and environmental benefits, but their costs should not be funded through transit project costs.
  • Better management of stakeholders’ approvals, public expectation, ROWs, and utilities owners.
    Remove politics from infrastructure projects.

Conclusion

If these recommendations are implemented, would the U.S. costs match the European tunneling project costs? Unlikely.

Even with the political will and if better controls were applied, the main elements that can be controlled would be the soft costs, the environmental approval process, and the provisions to project stakeholders. It is unlikely that labor cost could be reduced greatly. Understanding the extreme tunnel costs in New York compared with other places in the United States is an enigma that is difficult to comprehend and cannot be controlled without major industry and government practice changes.

In 2018, Congress asked the Government Accountability Office (GAO) to report within 9 months on the cost of rail – transit infrastructure projects across the United States compared to similar projects worldwide. After 16 months in July 2019, a report was produced but it did not provide the comparisons requested by Congress. Rather, the GAO in its report said making the comparisons was too difficult to obtain meaningful results and instead reported on improvements to be made by the FTA for better cost estimation. It appears even the GAO did not have the ability to identify measures for cost reduction of transit tunnels that have impacted the taxpayers by billions of dollars over the years.

About the Authors

Nasri Munfah is a Senior Vice President and the Director of Tunneling and Underground Engineering Center of Excellence for AECOM. He is responsible for developing and implementing the firm’s long term strategic tunneling growth plan; he oversees the firm’s tunneling and underground projects and provides leadership in project pursuit and delivery, the development of innovative solutions, recruitment and the professional development of staff. With over 40 years of experience in tunneling and underground engineering, he was responsible for the successful delivery of multi-billion-dollar projects in DBB and Alternative Delivery Methods.

Paul Nicholas is a Vice President and the Operations Manager for the AECOM Tunnel Practice, with over 40 years of experience in the heavy infrastructure and tunneling industries. He has a geotechnical background and extensive engineering experience with tunnel boring machines (TBM) in design, manufacturing and operation. Paul has worked on tunnel projects in North and South America, Europe, Middle East, India, Asia and Australia and led the successful completions of landmark transit and water convyance tunnels projects.

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Deep Thinking – Underground Solutions

Deep Thinking – Underground Solutions

Insights into the Tunnel Industry Trends – Present and Future

By 2050, it is anticipated that as much as 87% of the population of the United States will live in cities. We do expect this trend to be somewhat modified as a result of COVID-19 pandemic given the time the mass transportation industry needs to recover ridership and enter a ‘new normal’ operating reality. There still will be a need, however, to prepare cities and transportation agencies for implementation of less disruptive methods to minimize construction impacts to streets, utilities, businesses and communities. One way is a broader use of bored tunnels through dense urban areas.

 

Focus on innovations and risk-based decisions

Dealing with risks is an inherent part of the tunnel industry. Risks on tunneling projects, if not identified and well-managed, can lead to major disruptions that impact lives, properties and regional economies.

Using a well thought-through risk management approach, including implementation of an early risk register, not only defines elements and levels of risk, but also recognizes the parties that are best equipped to handle various risks through the life of a project. As part of the risk management process, it would be critical to obtain a full understanding of subsurface conditions and work on establishing the most practical and constructible project configuration in context with identified subsurface and environmental factors.

Although various project risks exist, in the last decade or so, tunneling has become safer under difficult geological and hydrological conditions. This is due to advancements in tunnel boring machine control systems and tunnel permanent support systems (liners), as well as materials and special details those entail. In fact, safety aspects in the industry have risen, and a “zero accident” policy became a quite common approach by most construction companies today. This drives the culture of safety in our industry forward. In addition, innovations in ground improvement techniques, settlement control, and the ability of tunnel boring machines to be fully pressurized allow for minimum volume losses due to excavation and minimize impacts to overlying streets, utilities and structures. Utilization of instrumentation and monitoring systems while maximizing GPS features allow for direct real-time reporting to multiple users, including owners, contractors and engineers.

 

Looking ahead

In the coming years, tunneling technology and processes, including tunnel boring machine control systems, materials and quality control are likely to advance further, allowing for better performances and an increase in the design service life of tunnels and underground structures in general. This expectation would further be increased by an increase in the use of public-private partnerships, where financial arms necessitate improvements in long-term maintenance and operation aspects along with general reductions in operating costs.

Additionally, the next generation of autonomous vehicles with magnetic levitation or similar systems could increase requirements for tunnels. This is due to right-of-way restrictions in urban areas that will only be met by an underground trajectory that minimizes impacts high speeds impose on passengers.
As we look ahead to the future of tunneling, implementing risk-based decision making, continued advancement of tunneling technology and approach to safety, and with development of latest technologies accommodating super high-speed mobility, paints an exciting picture for the industry moving forward.

Sanja Zlatanic, PE, is Chair-National Tunnel Practice for HNTB Corp. She has worked on some of the most complex tunnel projects domestically and internationally. With more than 32 years of experience, she has been responsible for managing all phases of multi-billion dollar underground projects, including multi-disciplinary joint venture staff, from feasibility and conceptual engineering through final design and construction.

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Utilization of Underground Space Promotes Urban Development

Utilization of Underground Space Promotes Urban Development

Researching for this article, I encountered an image from my personal nearby neighborhood in New York taken in 1917 showing the construction of the Flushing Subway Line in Queens; the area was rural and essentially farmland at the time; presently it is a vibrant residential, commercial, industrial and recreational neighborhood; see Figure 1. Although this line was not underground, the expansion of the New York subway around the turn of the 20th century was instrumental in the urban development of New York City as we know it today. Based on an article by Thomas Jablonski in 2006 entitled “New York City’s Subway Century – Rail Transit’s Role in Growth and Development”, at the end of the 19th century and early 20th century, New York City’s population was mostly in lower Manhattan within walking distance to the light industry located in the area; at the time, the city was amongst the highest density cities in the world because of the confinement of its residents to a small area in Manhattan.

The extension of the Flushing Line along Queens Boulevard

Fig. 1 – The extension of the Flushing Line along Queens Boulevard, in 1917, completely changed the rural landscape of Queens

The massive construction of New York City subway lines between 1913 and 1940, during which 180 route miles including 12 bridge and subaqueous tunnel crossings overcoming the river barriers, integrated Queens, Brooklyn and the Bronx with Manhattan. This opened new lands for the development of affordable, low-density housing for middle-class and working-class families while allowing them to fast and convenient access to their workplaces. Soon the rural areas in the outer boroughs was replaced by long boulevards and tree lined streets with single or two-family homes and apartment houses. Open parks, institutional facilities, and recreational areas were soon to follow. These transformations also brought to the new neighborhoods local commercial and light industries forming mini-societal areas within the larger metropolitan.

By 1940, when the initial NYC subway system was mostly completed, the population of the city was about 7.5 million, similar to the population now of 8.3 million residents providing connectivity to the metropolitan and prosperity to the City with over 5.5 million riders per day in 2019. Although during the present COVID-19 pandemic, the subway ridership dropped to as low as 10% of its former daily passenger use, the system continued to provide lifeline for essential workers who shouldered the safety and wellbeing of New Yorkers during this period. It is anticipated that NYC subway ridership will return to its pre-pandemic level within one or two years. The subway will continue to be New York’s lifeline, sustaining its economic and physical vitality; no one can imagine New York City without its subway system.

We see similar examples throughout the world of the role of the subway systems in urban development and connectivity of neighborhoods and localities. Examples include Washington Metro, Toronto subway system, London underground, Seoul Metro, Hong Kong Subway, Beijing Metro and recently the Paris Metro expansion, all resulted in successful urban development and economic growth.

However, not all stories are success stories; for example, in an article written by Professors John Landis and Robert Cervero in 1999 entitled “BART and Urban Development”, The Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART) did not spur the intended developments. They conclude that BART achieved one major success and many missed opportunities. BART was instrumental in the development of the commercial hub of San Francisco maintaining its preeminence as the business and financial center, but it failed to trigger similar achievements in the East Bay and reinvestment in developments in downtown Oakland, Berkley or Richmond. They concluded that the benefit of rail transit in urban development is not automatic, but it can be a catalyst for urban development through the collaboration of transit agencies, local governments, and private developers to overcome obstacles of policies, design, and financing.

This article will examine the benefits of the use of the underground space and its potentials in urban planning.

The Needs of Underground Space

In the last few decades, underground space became increasingly important for the development of societies. Population growth, growth of metropolises, migration to cities, environmental awareness, and increased needs for transportation, water, utilities, storage, security, and sheltering encouraged the use and the development of underground space.

In 2018 thirty-three megacities, each with a population of over 10 million people, and collectively housing more than 500 million people existed in the world; it is estimated that by 2030, 60% of the world population will be residing in urban areas and the number of cities with population over 5 million inhabitants will be over 100; this trend of urban growth is expected to continue throughout the 21 century.

The large megacities will grow even larger and the number of megacities will increase creating more megacities and super megacities. Figure 2 shows mega cities in 2015 and their expected growth by 2025. This shift in population centers necessitates the development of infrastructure in cities to support the population surge including provisions of efficient transportation systems; reliable utilities such as power, water, sewer, and communication systems; and supporting infrastructures. Unfortunately, population growth is outpacing the development of infrastructures to support such growth and the limited available surface spaces suggest that the logical location of these systems is underground; yet most cities lack general policies about the utilization of the underground space as part of its urban planning.

Megacities – Source – “Megacities and our Global Urban Future” 2005 – Earth Sciences for Society Foundation, The Netherland

Sustainability and Resiliency of Underground Space

Environmental decline, climate change and the increased awareness of the need of sustainable development invite the use of underground space. Increasing the demand for better living conditions in urban areas can be achieved by placing infrastructure facilities, utility distribution, transportation systems, and other supporting structures underground. The use of the underground space provides significant direct and indirect benefits. In general, the underground placement of the lesser facilities such as parking, transportation, utilities, storage, etc. provides the opportunity to develop the land for better and nobler purposes such as residential, commercial, institutional, and recreational facilities including parks and green spaces. The multiuse of the land enhances the quality of life and provides environmental and economic benefits to the users and to the society at large.

The use of the underground space is sustainable. It provides isolation from the elements reducing power consumption and carbon footprint. Thermal isolation is naturally provided by the ground with a uniform and moderate temperature level throughout the year; it reduces the needs for climate control and its associated costs and environmental impacts. The use of underground space provides additional environmental benefits in term of visual effects, air quality by removing vehicles from streets, less congestion, and a reduction of noise and vibration resulting in a better quality of life at the surface. The use of the underground facilities improves the local and global ecological cycle.

The use of underground space provides resilient facilities. Natural disasters such as earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes, thunderstorms and flood have lesser impact on underground facilities because they are protected from the elements. The impacts of seismic event are far less on underground structures than above ground structures; structural oscillation and amplification effects for underground structures are far less than surface (or above surface) structures. Underground facilities are more cost effective considering life-cycle cost and triple bottom line since design life of all underground facilities exceed 100 years; many existing operating tunnels are much older such as the Thames Tunnel in London constructed in 1843 and the London Underground which was first opened in 1863.

RELATED: Why Tunnels in The US Cost Much More Than Anywhere Else in The World

Underground Space as the Third Dimension in Urban Planning

Underground space provides opportunities for better urban development. The use of subsurface space allows for a holistic urban planning benefiting from the three-dimensional space with suitable integration of the spaces above and below the surface creating opportunities for more efficient use of the urban land. It also provides the opportunity of creating a more desirable, less dense surface environment by creating more open spaces and outdoor recreational facilities and parks. For example, building an underground sport arena or a shopping center while developing the area above it for outdoor recreational facilities or providing green spaces allow multiple uses of the land. Often these developments are extended several levels below the surface with various functions at various levels connecting to transit system, underground parking, commercial levels, services, and connections to office buildings, with other adjoining developments. For example, Montreal’s Underground City (La Ville Souterraine) consisting of a network of 29 km (18 miles) of tunnels and underground space spread over an area of 12 square kilometres (3,000 acres) provides efficient use of the underground space. See Figure 3. Another example of efficient use of the underground space is the implementation of utility corridors, also known as utilidors in which various utility services are organized in a planned underground space rather than placed arbitrarily as various utility owners see fit often impacting other utilities and impacting surface traffic, businesses and the public when repairs or replacement are needed. Figure 4 shows an example of utilidor from Amsterdam.

Montreal Underground City

In the last few decades, many major cities in the world started placing many of its facilities and urban services underground and developing real underground cities – but often not within an overall urban planning strategy. A report prepared by ITA/ITACUS/ISOCARP entitled “Think Deep: Planning, development and use of underground space in cities” addressed the needs and the challenges of integrating underground space planning with urban planning dealing with the third dimension of space planning.

Utilidor in Amsterdam carries multiple utility lines SOURCE: Courtesy H. Admiraal.

For example, to meet the growth of population in London, several underground infrastructure projects were planned and are under construction including Crossrail, Thames Tideway Tunnel, Northern Line Extension, and London Power Tunnels; yet there is no holistic planning for the underground space. While only six of the 32 London boroughs consider underground structures in their plans, all are related to residential basement design standards and none deal with the overall planning of underground space in a holistic manner.

New York underground systems developed at multiple levels without controlled underground space planning – Courtesy of Elizabeth Reynolds and Paul Reynolds

The urban planning system in New York City has evolved since 1811 with the establishment of the grid pattern of a 7-mile stretch of Manhattan consisting of 11 major avenues and 155 cross streets creating blocks of approximately 250 ft by 900 ft. In 1916, New York implemented the first zoning resolution and by 1936 it established the City Planning Commission. Although city planning agencies in both London and New York share similar objectives for improving the quality of their urban environments addressing issues such as housing, neighborhoods, parks and public spaces, transportation, energy, water supply, waste management, air quality, climate change, resiliency, etc., neither have any underground spatial planning or design strategies. They are not alone in this regard, very few cities throughout the world have such underground spatial use policies or standards.

By contrast, in Tianjin, China, for example (as well as other Chinese cities), in which the urban development is accelerating rapidly, and utilization of urban underground space entered a rapid development stage, the city planning in 2004 carried out an extensive research on the development and utilization of underground space. This was documented in a plan entitled “Comprehensive Utilization of Underground Space Planning in Tianjin Central City (2006-2020)”, which is aligned to the City Urban Master Plan. There, underground space planning was prepared at the macro, meso and micro level corresponding to the underground space use. The master plan is based on distribution of the underground space in multiple layers, namely shallow (10m), middle (20m) and deep (30m). Space allocations of the various layers are based on their utilization for parking, services and utilities, commercial, transportation, etc. See Figure 6. Underground space planning guidelines are used to incorporate underground space into the urban regulatory planning system, and to guide the urban construction as a basis for urban management. Currently, the total construction area of underground space in Tianjin central city has exceeded 15 million square meters (160 million square feet), but it is still focusing on the basic level of the shallow and middle layers. With the recent completion of 9 subway lines totaling 470 km (294 miles), the city focused on the development of transportation urban hubs and urban public centers integrating the surface planning with the underground space utilization; yet the construction of underground rail transit cannot keep pace with its urban development. This approach is also adopted by other cities in China including Beijing and Shanghai.

Tianjin underground surface planning

Fig. 6 – Tianjin underground surface planning allocate different levels for different facility types

The strong policies and the strong administrative controls for implementation in China would not necessarily be possible in the United States. However, policies that facilitate effective long-range planning of underground space use, as are found in locations such as Singapore or Helsinki, helped those locations move closer to sustainability goals and integrating underground space with urban planning, can be applicable to many cities in the United States. For example, policies that enforce preservation of the surface environment while permitting facility expansion underground would provide a reason for moving more infrastructure underground in a deliberate planned approach. Another example is the policies adopted in Japan allowing public agencies the rights to develop deep underground space under private properties avoiding lengthy legal barriers and allowing more versatile and rapid development of underground projects.

Equity in Underground Space Planning

The decision to place transit systems underground often faces many challenges among various competing interests. Political views, community interest and lifestyle, commercial benefits, and tax incentives often affect the route, alignment, configuration, station locations and surface connections with potential future developments. Impact of construction on traffic, businesses and the daily lives of communities could also deter public acceptance of an underground transit system. The public in affluent areas may also be concerned about security and integration fearing that mass transit system will bring a large number of unknow and undesirable people to their neighborhood; a case in point is the lack of a subway line to Georgetown in Washington, D.C., despite the fact that a subway line was planned since mid 1970s. On the other hand, when a development is successful around station locations, real estate prices rise, displacing lower income residents and gentrifying the neighborhood. This has been seen in many large cities with underground transit system such as New Yok, Washington, and Los Angeles. In spite of the wide spread of New York City subway system, the 4th Regional Plan issued in 2017 identified that more than one third of all New Yorkers don’t live within walking distance of a subway station. Most are low-income neighborhoods and communities of color for whom transit access is disproportionately important and who have no other means of transportation to their workplaces. Similarly SPUR in the Bay Area in California in its report “The Future of Transportation” issued August 2020 identified equity as an essential strategy of a successful transportation planning and made recommendations to “Set prices to promote efficiency and equity”.

It is of critical importance that new or extended underground transit lines or new systems address these disparities by establishing policies regarding land use around stations to minimize displacement of the residents such as the implementation of mixed-use development and affordable housing with public amenities meeting environmental and sustainability goals; thus creating vibrant public places fostering a strong economy benefiting everyone including the local communities.

Final Notes

Generally, all over the world, urban planners tend to overlook the invaluable assets of the underground space, “the final frontier”. Most urban planers and policy makers are unaware of the benefits and the opportunities the underground space has to offer. Population growth, migration to metropolises, and the growth of large cities in size and number, outpace the development of supporting infrastructures. The availability of space at the surface is diminishing and quality of life and the livability of cities are threatened. Urban underground space forms a societal asset, often unappreciated by policy-makers and urban planners.

Understanding the potentials of underground space is not enough, realizing its actual potential and facilitating its development will require an awareness program and a continual dialogue among many stakeholders, including policy-makers, city planners, engineers, developers, and the public.

Underground space development should be part of city planning following the context of an existing urban plan. With the predicted population growth and the growth of megacities, efficient use of underground space promotes sustainable development, improves the urban environment, preserves natural resources, and accomplishes long-term, triple-bottom-line economic benefits.

Nasri Munfah is a Senior Vice President and Director of Tunneling and Underground Engineering Center of Excellence for AECOM. He is responsible for developing and implementing the firm’s long term strategic tunneling growth plan; he oversees the firm’s tunneling and underground projects and provides leadership in project pursuit and delivery, the development of innovative solutions, recruitment and the professional development of staff. With over 40 years of experience in tunneling and underground engineering, he was responsible for the successful delivery of multi-billion-dollar projects in DBB and Alternative Delivery Methods.

RELATED: Deep Thinking – Underground Solutions

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The Only Way is… Down! Why Underground Urban Development is on the Rise

The Only Way is… Down! Why Underground Urban Development is on the Rise

Building underground can solve problems for city planners, but UNSW expert Dr Asal Bidarmaghz warns that planning is needed to ensure subterranean solutions are sustainable.

Underground urban developments are becoming ever more important in cities around the world, due to the shortage of space above the surface.

It may come as something of a surprise, but Helsinki is widely regarded as the world leader when it comes to building underground.

The capital of Finland is home to only 650,000 people and therefore not under nearly as much pressure in terms of population density in its urban area compared with cities like Manilla, or Paris, or Singapore, or Sydney.

But Helsinki is growing – and it has decided it wants to grow down, not up or out. Which is why, in 2016, it became the first city anywhere in the world to publish a specific Underground City Plan which laid out proposals for an integrated development that would include shops, office space and recreational facilities, as well as transport, parking, water and energy supply, and waste management.

The underground master plan allows control over the location of significant new underground facilities and traffic tunnels and their interconnections.

Planning for the urban underground

It is exactly this kind of planning that UNSW geotechnical engineering expert Dr Asal Bidarmaghz says is vital if much-needed underground urban developments are to prove a long-term success in Australia and elsewhere around the world.

“We can build a lot of infrastructure that a city might need underground, but it requires very precise planning,” says the lecturer from the School of Civil and Environmental Engineering.

“We have tried to go as high as we could without a long-term vision of its impacts on climate-related issues such as urban heat island effects. There is actually plenty of underground space available under most fully urbanised cities for various usage and energy-supply purposes. However, similar unsustainable practices as for the above ground will lead to more disastrous consequences in the urban underground given its confined environment.

“There are many researchers around the world working on the logistics of urban underground development and it requires a lot of resilience and planning to ensure it is sustainable,” Dr Bidarmaghz adds.

“Look at Sydney as an example. We are constructing a lot of tunnels, but are we considering what happens in 50 years and how we might want to utilise that underground space in the future and connect it to the above-ground built environment? Lack of planning of underground development will indeed hinder how we can develop the entire underground infrastructure in future.”

Montreal in Canada has a large shopping complex beneath the surface known as La Ville Souterraine, or the Underground City.

Dr Bidarmaghz believes many cities around the world will increasingly attempt to utilise their underground space for development given the fact that land is often at a premium above the surface.

But that’s not to say that we should expect whole subterranean cities, or even a whole subterranean town, complete with housing and roads and schools and offices and shops to be a reality any time soon.

Instead, certain specific facilities are likely to be identified as much more suitable for underground developments, while living completely below the surface like a mole would remain the stuff of science fiction.

“I think it’s unrealistic at this moment to think we could have an identical city just completely underground, mainly due to the technological and logistical challenges of maintaining the much-needed interactions and commute between above and underground environment,” Dr Bidarmaghz says.

“You might see that in a movie, but in those cases they usually don’t have any infrastructure above the ground they need to interact with or commute to, while for us we always need to think of the ways to get back above ground whenever we want.

“In my opinion, we should be thinking initially for those underground developments to be used for things like retail, shopping centres, cinemas, maybe even some office space – places where you go just for a few hours and then come back to the surface. Just doing that actually frees up a lot of space above the ground.”

Logistics of living below the surface

Dr Bidarmaghz admits there is also a psychological aspect that might prohibit the development of extensive underground housing.

“Human nature is such that people like to see the sun, see the sky, feel the fresh air. Thinking about a whole town or city underground is also maybe quite scary for people,” she says.

“In terms of housing, people think that living underground would be like living in a cave. In fact, it can probably be quite pleasant if you dug down 30m and had a 10m ceiling and lots of lightwells, but that’s probably just for quite luxurious dwellings that would not be available to a general population.

“Therefore I don’t think having a whole community of people living below ground is really acceptable to the general public right now.

“For a whole community to be underground, we also need to consider evacuation and emergency exits, so the logistics become very different when we think about using the underground on that much larger scale and for human habitation.”

One benefit of living underground, though, is to escape extreme temperatures – either hot or cold – above the surface. A famous example is Coober Pedy in South Australia where below-ground dwellings and even subterranean churches were built by opal miners in the early 20th Century due to the mercury regularly topping 40 degrees during the summer.

 

Research suggests that living 5-10m below the surface provides a relatively stable climate with comfortable temperatures throughout the year, for example around 18 or 19 degrees in most Australian cities.

“There are some initiatives in Western Sydney with regards to underground developments because they often suffer from some very hot temperatures and they are looking for a way out of that and for a solution,” Dr Bidarmaghz says.

Dr Bidarmaghz’s own specific research looks into the sustainable and resilient utilisation of underground structures and geo-energy resources. She has helped create new methods and tools for predicting the ground temperature and groundwater distributions at high resolutions in the presence of underground heat sources and sinks.

And that sustainability is also key when it comes to planning underground urban developments for the future.

Dr Asal Bidarmaghz, lecturer in Geotechnical Engineering in the School of Civil and Environmental Engineering. Photo supplied.

“At the moment, we are warming up the urban subsurface significantly and if you continue doing that then it’s not sustainable – it’s like global warming for the underground,” Dr Bidarmaghz explains.

“The heat is building up, but we can potentially harvest that heat and then use it for above ground spaces energy demand. That can also then help with energy inequality and fuel poverty in some areas of big cities and bring thermal balance back to the subsurface.

“Overall, we just need to minimise the changes we are making from an environmental point of view when building underground and to ensure that it is sustainable in the long-term.

“We are actually affecting the urban underground climates and that is something that is often not considered in the design process of underground infrastructure. But look at London… in the summertime using the underground tube system is often very uncomfortable because the ventilation systems don’t really work and it just gets way too hot.

“So we can see that there are consequences. Therefore we need to try to not make the same mistakes we’ve done above ground and just overuse the space without thinking of the effects.”

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Urban Design in Underground Public Spaces: Lessons from Moscow Metro

Urban Design in Underground Public Spaces: Lessons from Moscow Metro

This paper examines the history and social life of the underground public spaces in three Moscow Metro stations just north of Red Square and the Kremlin: Okhotny Ryad, Tverskaya, and Ploshchad Revolyutsii stations. Moscow’s subway originated from two motivations: to improve the public transit system and to revitalize Moscow’s centre instead of moving out to the suburbs for growth. To achieve these goals, subway architects and planners devised beautiful and people-friendly subway stations that cannot be observed in other Western cities. The resulting spaces successfully accommodated a high level of social activities in the central halls of the platforms as well as on escalators. Several urban design principles, including “soft edge” and “triangulation props”, can be observed regardless of the designers’ original intent. Moscow’s subway stations are case studies worth exploring before architects and planners design their underground systems.

1. Introduction

Walking along dark and soggy platforms or heavily commercialized corridors is not an option, but a must for many subway users. Like other aboveground conventional streets and squares, pathways and gathering places within underground concourses present opportunities for making memorable and bustling places for casual contacts and social activities. However, urban designers have paid less attention to underground spaces.

Although many studies in urban design have focused on traditional outdoor public spaces, such as squares and plazas (Cullen 1961; Whyte 1980, 1988; Gehl 1987; Carr 1992; Cooper-Marcus and Francis 1998) as well as streets and sidewalks (Appleyard, Gerson and Lintell 1981; Moudon 1985; Gehl 1987; Jacobs 1995; Loukaitou-Sideris 2012; Mehta 2013; Kim 2015), few have dealt with the quality and design of underground public spaces that contribute to the overall public realm and promote the integration of diverse social groups. Previous research of underground areas has focused on Western cities, including Montreal, Toronto, Dallas, and Minneapolis. Few studies have examined other parts of the world, such as Moscow, which have been praised as having the most successful subway systems.

Unlike the connotation of underground spaces being anti-urban and inhumane, Moscow’s subway was pro-urbanists’ counter-measure against anti-urbanists who demanded abandoning the congested city centre to fulfil socialists’ ideology. To address congestion and accommodate rest and recreation from labour, anti-urban socialists claimed that suburban communities living in nature can improve the welfare of the working class. However, Moscow’s planners did not give up hope on the city centre. Instead of moving out to suburban areas around Moscow, subway planners intended to densify and vitalize the centre by solving congestion with the then-innovative transportation technology.

Studies of the Moscow Metro have focused on the history and architectural value of subway stations.1 In addition to the artistic and historic values of these stations, the social life in these stations is less known and hidden behind the aesthetics. Unlike other underground concourses in the Western world, the central halls of Moscow’s Metro are vibrant urban plazas whose activities can be found in any outdoor public spaces. While passengers wait for incoming trains or their friends, mezzanine, platforms, columns, and walls are turned into plazas, squares, and benches where social life exists amidst heavy foot traffic. Dushkin and Manizer, a prominent Russian architect and artist, together created a haven of “triangular props” (Whyte 1980, 94) in Ploschad Revolyutsii Station. The colonnade of double octagonal pylons in Okhotny Ryad Station creates a “soft edge” (Gehl 2010, 75) to facilitate casual contacts and social activities.

The strong potential for public spaces in subsurface transit hubs has driven urban designers to rethink the role of underground public spaces in high-density cities. Are underground public spaces different from aboveground spaces? How do people use these spaces? What works and what does not? How can we design these underground public spaces to contribute to the overall public realm? I will answer these questions by studying underground public spaces of the Moscow Metro.

Figure 1. Location of Okhotny Ryad Station. (Map Data © 2020 CNES/ Airbus, Landsat, © 2020 Google).

2. History of Moscow Metro: “palace of proletariat” and pro-urban aspiration

At the turn of the twentieth century, Moscow’s population reached over one million. Due to the increasing demand for housing and transportation, experts and politicians began to discuss the idea of a subway in Moscow. In 1902, a group of rail engineers, Balinsky and Knorre, presented a bolder vision of a Moscow subway. Balinsky and Knorre planned for 40 miles (67 km) of elevated rail and 10 miles (16 km) of subway tunnel with a grander vision for the Central Station near Red Square, the current location of Teatralnaya Station (Figure 1). The proposal was rejected because Moscow officials were not familiar with the idea of underground rail. In part, Balinsky’s association with a capitalist entrepreneur caused government officials to balk on final approval because the project was to be financed by the American engineer and investor Merry A. Werner. More importantly, however, an electric streetcar system was in operation a year before. Therefore, transportation experts were reluctant to invest in another expensive public transport system in the centre (Wolf 1994).

Full-scale planning and debate on a subway in Moscow did not take place until 1924. Regardless of increasing urban immigration, many believed that the existing streetcar system was enough to handle transportation. Moreover, the First World War in 1914 and the Russian Civil War after the October Revolution in 1917 deterred people from moving to Moscow. The subway debate resumed when Moscow officials began to realize that they needed to reconsider building a subway when people began to return to the cities after 1921.

In 1923, the Moscow City Council Presidium, the executive board of the council, resumed negotiations with foreign companies for the Moscow subway and created a design department within the Moscow City Rail trust (MGZhD). A group of Moscow City Council members went to Europe to attract foreign partners, including Siemens Bau-Union and AEG (General Electric Company), in 1924. Siemens Bau-Union and S.N. Rozanov, a Russian-born engineer who had fled to Paris during the 1917 Revolution, prepared two separate draft plans for the subway in 1926. Applying what he learned in Paris, Rozanov devised an entire underground system with three lines radiating out from the centre. Similar to the Paris Metro, Rozanov proposed a shallow tunnel just a few feet below the surface to ventilate the underground structures naturally. Siemens Bau-Union adopted the subway system from Germany. They proposed five subway lines similar to the plan proposed in 1912 by Knorre and the Moscow City Duma, an organization equivalent to a municipal urban design department. In 1927, the Moscow City Council decided to build the subway over the following five years. The council chose Siemens Bau-Union’s scheme since they also offered favourable financial support from Germany. This decision was announced to the public in 1928.

2.1. Moscow subway debates

The Moscow subway debate from 1928 to 1931 was not only a political power struggle between left and right but also an urban planning controversy for the future vision of Moscow (Wolf 1994, 23). The debate related to the subway included urban growth, public transit, and quality of life, which are relevant to contemporary urban planning issues.

Two contrasting views existed in the urban growth field related to building a subway in Moscow. Predominantly, socialists with an anti-urban vision were against the idea of building a subway in a communist city. They believed that “big cities were by nature anti-socialist and thus should be abandoned or even destroyed” (Wolf 1994, 25). Moisei Ginzburg, a prominent Soviet anti-urbanist, argued for resettlement of the urban population to the suburbs where people can enjoy ample light, fresh air, and natural landscape: a Russian version of Ebenezer Howard’s Garden City. Therefore, “developing subway plans for a doomed city” was considered an irrational choice for the ideal socialist community (Wolf 1994, 25).

Further, G. Puzis argued that a subway is too expensive and an “example of capitalist exploitation of the working-class”, which is ideologically undesirable in the Soviet Union (Wolf 1994, 25). The conditions of overcrowded subways in capitalist cities such as New York City, London, and Paris created dire conditions of “human porridge” that robbed the working class of valuable time and energy (Wolf 1994).

The proponents of a subway system presented counterarguments against Puzis. N. Osinskii, Deputy Director of Vessenkha (USSR’s economic planning agencies), rejected the idea that there was economic and population decline in the centre of the city. The population of Moscow was increasing sharply, contrary to anti-urbanists’ expectations. He further proposed to increase density in the centre by adding a couple of floors without building a new infrastructure on the periphery of Moscow. Osinskii envisioned that the increased population would share the cost of subway construction. Gende-Rote, the head of the Moscow tram trust, also refuted the anti-subway arguments. The resettlement to the suburbs would result in decrease of industry and residents in the centre, transforming Moscow from “powerful proletarian centre” to a “bureaucratic appendage”, or “a city of government institutions” (Wolf 1994, 38)

Pro-subway Muscovites further expressed that environmental conditions could be overcome with better design and new technology. Osinskii argued that the subway is more efficient and faster than any other mode of public transit; therefore, people would benefit more from shorter commutes. Other transit systems, including bus and tram, were considered to be inefficient options for the radial street network of Moscow because of the converged road layout and car traffic. Addressing environmental concerns, Gende-Rote recommended that “an adequate ventilation system” would improve the air flow in underground space. He opined that the defects in the Western subway system resulted from the flaws of capitalism. Gende-Rote believed in the superiority of socialism over capitalism, arguing that concerns of efficiency could be avoided under socialism, where “the welfare of the masses” had the utmost priority (Wolf 1994, 39). The potential military value of an underground subway system was not the primary rationale at the time; still, Osinskii and Gende-Rote foresaw the advantage of using the subway as a bomb shelter.

For an alternative to the expensive subway system, other modes of public transit system were suggested. Puzis recommended a bus system, since buses were the public transport of the future and were much cheaper than subways. They did not need as vast an amount of investment in infrastructure as a subway, and they could be implemented almost right away via the existing road system. Moreover, bus factories could be also utilized as national defence assets, as they could convert the bus factory into one for military transport vehicles. Fortifying the existing street car system had been considered as another alternative since the beginning of the subway debates in 1902. However, these modes of transport had met their limits due to the unique street network converging in the centre. The surface system could not well accommodate the increased demand. The streetcar system was at 150% of its recommended capacity in 1929. The bus system was added in 1929 to help traffic congestion; however, it proved inadequate to resolve the traffic congestion.

2.2. Soviet’s own wits

On 15 June 1931, the Moscow subway was approved by the Central Committee, and the City Council allocated 55 million Rubles for its construction (Wolf 1994, 21). A couple of months later, Metrostroi was established to manage the construction of the subway. Pavel Pavlovich Rotert, the chief civil engineer who oversaw the construction of the Dnieper hydroelectric power station, was appointed as the head of Metrostroi (Wolf 1994, 59). Under pressure from political leaders, Metrostroi put out a fast-track plan for building the subway system.

However, Metrostroi did not have enough experience, knowledge, equipment, budget, or labour for the daunting task. Rotert himself had almost no knowledge of building subways. Few other engineers had experience in building subways. Foreign expertise was essential for the subway project. From the early planning phase, German engineers from Siemens Bau-Union were involved. George Morgan, an American tunnel engineer, was the main technical advisor to Metrostroi (Schlögel 2012). Beginning in 1932, however, foreign knowledge transfer was discontinued because the Soviets experienced severe financial constraints.

The financial difficulty left Metrostroi with a lack of equipment or an appropriate work plan. The first subway line was entirely hand-dug by Muscovites because Metrostroi could not acquire proper equipment for excavation. Workers dug the tunnel with picks and shovels instead of air hammers or steam shovels used in other Western subway construction. Machinery was not the only thing missing; engineers and political leaders wasted time and resources due to their lack of technical knowledge of tunnelling in an urban environment. They debated for many months to determine tunnel alignment, excavation, and construction methods.

However, Wolf (1994) observes that the lack of resources and isolation from the precedents of Western cities left Moscow Metro as the most unique subway in the world. Indeed, the subways in New York City, London, and Paris were precedents to be avoided by the Russian subway planners. The discussions in designing stations and access well represented how Muscovites tried to avoid previous examples. As discussed above, the poor environment of Western subways was regarded as an example of capitalist exploitation of the proletariat. Subways in the West were “crowded, dirty, gloomy, and thus unfit for socialist societies” (Wolf 1994, 326). Importing capitalists’ failure could not be accepted by Russian socialists. Muscovites refined the underground infrastructure into the “palace of proletariat” with an ideological intention: the “welfare of the masses” (Wolf 1994, 330).

The main difference between the “socialist” metro and the “capitalist” metro was the emphasis on design and artistic aesthetic over functional and technical aspects (Kosenkova 2010). For platform configuration, lateral platforms that could be found New York City and Paris were simpler and cheaper because the alignment of the subway tunnel did not have to shift to the sides from the centre. However, the Moscow subway followed an island-platform pattern that was adopted in London because it was convenient for access and transfer (Wolf 1994, 305). The consolidated space in the middle also provided opportunities to create a grand space for people. The spatial configuration of stations was changed by political officials to enhance the quality of space. Kaganovich, the prominent political leader and Stalin’s right-hand man, was in charge of subway construction and had a great interest in subway architecture. He ordered the architects to change the platform design from a two-arch to a three-arch for a more spacious station, despite the increased cost.

High-quality design was one of the main emphases in station design. Kaganovich stressed that “not a single station should be similar to another” (Wolf 1994, 305). In 1934, the Moscow City Council held a design competition of 13 stations and entrance buildings. To address Kaganovich’s demand, famous Soviet architects were involved in the competition, including Ivan Fomin, a key contributor of post-constructivism, Ilya Golosov, a leader of constructivism, Nikolai Ladrovsky, a member of the Russian avant-garde, and numerous other young architects (Kosenkova 2010). Despite the city announced the second and third places for the competition in each station, these winners were not guaranteed to design the stations. Instead, the winning architects and artists were grouped and assigned with design tasks for each station. These design proposals were dominated by the Art Deco and Neoclassical styles, decorated with chandeliers and expensive marble and granite, creating “underground palaces.”

When planning for access to stations, escalators were introduced to address criticisms of deep tunnelling from engineers. The construction of the Moscow subway shifted from shallow open-trench to deep tunnel to avoid conflicts with existing subsurface utility lines and surface traffic during construction (Wolf 1994). Amid the technical challenges of deep tunnelling, the Party officials were concerned about the inconvenience to passengers who had to climb up and down the endless stairs when stations were placed deep underground. Vladmir Makovskii, a young Soviet engineer who had access to technical literature on the London and New York subways, found that escalators had been used to address the challenge of deep tunnel passenger access in London’s Tube. Escalators were still a new technology, even in Western countries. Veteran engineers were sceptical of young engineers’ futuristic ideas; escalators were untested in the Soviet Union and too expensive to be brought in from abroad. After Stalin’s approval of deep tunnelling on 23 May 1932, Moscow Metro was redesigned to be 20 to 30 meters below ground. Soviet manufacturers were able to reverse-engineer escalators, examining marketing documents from Otis, one of the two escalators in the world at that time.

2.3. Completion of the first Moscow subway

After 4 years of approval from Central Committee and 33 years after the initial plans, Moscow Metro, with a total length of 11.2 km with 13 stations, opened to the public on 15 May 1935. Soviet propagandists praised the lavish, well-lit, and spacious décor of Moscow Metro as “proof of socialism’s greater commitment to the welfare of the working classes” (Wolf 1994, 330). Foreign experts also commended Moscow Metro’s “exceptional beauty and quality.” About 370,000 Muscovites visited the Metro to celebrate the opening of the subway. Harold Denny, the New York Times’ Moscow correspondent, described the festive atmosphere as an “underground picnic” at which Muscovites were dressed in their best clothes with banners (Wolf 1994, 325).

With or without luxury decorations, Moscow Metro stations are regarded as the most beautiful subways in the world, which are separated from other Western examples. The subway system was then transmitted to other Communist cities, including Pyeongyang in North Korea, Berlin in East Germany, Prague in Czechoslovakia, and some Chinese cities. Metrostroi, now a private construction company specializing in subway construction, exported Russian subway technology to Chennai and Mumbai in India.

Figure 2. Hidden city of Moscow. Okhotny Ryad Tverskaya, and Ploshchard Rvolyutsii stations located a few blocks from Red Square and Kremlin Palace.

Figure 3. Plan of Okhotny Ryad Tverskaya, and Ploshchard Rvolyutsii stations.

3. Hidden ensemble in Moscow

Kosenkova (2010) pointed out that subway stations must not be planned to be utilitarian structures as he reviewed the history and architecture of Moscow Metro. Rather, he argued that the entire underground space should be integrated as an ensemble of the whole city, a continuation of city streets and squares. The three stations in the centre of Moscow, Okhotny Ryad, Teatralnaya, and Ploshchard Revolyutsii are the defining examples of such a city ensemble. The hidden ensemble consists of three subway stations, two pairs of one-way corridors connecting the stations, and six banks of escalators. It is interesting to see how Muscovites use the hidden streets and plazas of Moscow and to understand the reason why these places outperform other underground spaces around the world.

3.1. Three stations: Okhotny Ryad, Tverskaya, and Ploshchard Revolyutssi stations

Okhotny Ryad Station was one of the first thirteen stations opened in 1935. It is located on the corner of Tverskaya Road and Okhotny Ryad Road (Figures 2 and 3). The station originally had two entrances; the south exit was incorporated in Hotel Moscow facing Manezhnaya Square, and the north exit was the remodelled ground floor of an existing building located across from the entrance plaza of the State Academic Bolshoi Theatre of Russia. The south entrance was demolished along with the hotel in 2004. Now, the south entrance is split into six branches connecting an underground shopping mall and four corners of the intersection of Tverskaya Road and Okhotny Ryad Road.

A well-lit station platform appears as passengers descend three banks of elevators from the streets above. While the floor and columns are made of white grey marble, the subway track walls are covered with white ceramic tiles. The marble used in Okhotny Ryad Station did not come from a quarry; instead, the marble came from the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour. After the church was demolished in 1932, the Italian marble was too good to be wasted. Architects of Lenin Library had preserved the marble, stacking it for future projects. Metrostroi had difficulty in stocking interior finish material and decided to recycle them in the new station (Wolf 1994, 309).

Okhotny Ryad Station has changed its name as the political environment has shifted. Okhotny Ryad was its original name when it first opened in 1935. The station was named after Kaganovich from 1955 to 1957 to commemorate Kaganovich’s leading role in subway construction. In 1957, Khrushchev removed Kaganovich’s name and returned to Okhotny Ryad after he won the political struggle against Kaganovich. In 1961, the name of the station was renamed to “Prospekt Marksa,” or Prospect of Marx. A portrait of Marx was hung in the northern entrance hall in 1964. Finally, the station recovered its original name in 1990 when the Soviet Union was dismantled (Zinovʹev 2011).

Three years after the first Metro line, the second phase of Metro’s development opened in 1938. Ploshchad Revolyutssi Station opened in 13 March 1938. The station spans from Revolution Square in the northwest to Birzhevaya Ploshchad in the south. Rather than utilizing the subsurface of public right of way, Ploschad Revolyutssi Station lay diagonally across underneath buildings and roads. Two entrances on each end of platform are embedded in other buildings, making it difficult to locate the entrances. The station was named after Revolution Square, honouring the February 1917 revolution.

Ploshchard Revolyutsii was the first Metro station that incorporated sculpture as a primary focus of its design. There are 76 bronze sculptures of people of the Soviet Union, honouring 20 years of Soviet rule of Russia. The sculptures depict pioneers, peasants, children, students, border guards, and paratroopers in a chronological order of Soviet revolution from 1917 to 1937. Matvei Genrikhovich Manizer, whose work was primarily bronze monumental sculptures representing ideological figures and events, produced the figures at the Leningrad Art Workshop. Since Ploshchard Revolyutsii, the focus of design shifted towards artistic decoration rather than architecture (Kuznetsov 2016, 101). Stations in later phases became grander and were decorated more with sculptures and other art elements, including murals and wall decorations. Architects were not fully supportive of such an approach.

Teatralnaya Station was opened six months later as Ploschad Revolyutssi in September 1938. The station was named after the square located above the station, Teatralnaya Square. The square is a forecourt of the Bolshoi Theater, Maly Theatre, and Russian Youth Theatre, and it is connected to Revolution Square across Okhotny Ryad – Teatralnaya Road. Teatralnaya Station does not have its own entrance hall. Instead, entrances to the station are shared with the north entrance of Okhotny Ryad Station and the west entrance of Ploschad Revolyutssi Station.

Ivan Aleksandrovich Fomin was the architect of the station. Fomin was one of the prominent Russian architects developed the Neoclassical style in Soviet Union and one of the key contributors to early Stalinist architecture or post-constructivism, an attempt to recreate “classical shapes without classical details.” Fomin elaboated the Neoclassical architecture in the station. The design elements of Teatralnaya Station followed classical details, including pylons, benches, and ceiling details. Connecting the central hall to the platforms, the pylons are anchored with Doric columns on four corners, and benches centered between the columns on either side of the central hall and platform. Fomin, however, could not finish the station due to his death from a sudden stroke. One of his apprentices, L.M. Polyakov, carried out the project based on Fomin’s original design in 1938 (Kuznetsov 2016, 101).

3.2. Three hidden plazas

Despite the differences in history and architectural style of each station, the central halls of the three Metro stations share the common vitality of any outdoor urban plaza aboveground. The central hall is a place to greet and meet with colleagues, friends, and lovers. People lean against columns, sit on benches, and stand in the middle of the crowd. Amidst the heavy foot traffic, social life flourishes underground, as with any other city’s public space.

Figure 4. Muscovites in Teatralnay Station Central Hall in April 2017.

Wolf (1994) observed that the stations are a meeting place for Muscovites. “Here’s how the system works: the two parties agree by telephone to meet at a certain time at the Metro station closest to their final destinations. Since the subway stations are rather large and two people waiting for each other in different parts of the station could easily not notice each other, Muscovites arrange to meet in a specific part of the station” (Wolf 1994, 364). Dmitri, a young Muscovite who uses the Metro every day, also pointed out that “People meet in the station because it is easy to find and everyone knows where the station is. Outside is a bit more difficult to find.”

It is interesting to note that these central halls were the unintended result of naïve aspirations for “palace for proletariat” envisioned by a non-expert. Lazar Kaganovich, a doctrinaire Stalinist and a prominent figure in subway construction, ordered subway engineers to change the configuration of the Metro station from two-arch to three-arch, first in Okhotny Ryad Station construction site. Kaganovich had no previous experience in subway construction or in architecture; the only experience he had was at a shoemaking factory in Ukraine where he initiated a labour movement and started his political career. Kaganovich may have been a boot maker who lacked knowledge of subway station design; however, his authoritarian order to switch from a two-arch to a three-arch station design resulted in rich social activities in underground subway stations.

While the two arches on the platform sides are functional spaces allowing passengers to wait to board trains, the middle arch is a redundant space and is not necessary to operate the station. Moscow Metro was criticized as an unnecessary public investment during the early subway debate, and adding additional costs to achieve palatial quality was difficult to justify. However, this redundant space and decoration provided unique opportunities to transform a transportation infrastructure into a public space where Muscovites have celebrated since its opening. Dmitri, like other Muscovites, prefers aboveground than underground. However, he does not mind the Metro “Because it has high ceiling and beautiful. It does not feel like I am being in underground.” Central halls are well lit and ventilated artificially through the diffusers that are integrated into pylons. For example, Dushkin artfully hid a ventilation shaft as part of the ornaments in Ploschad Revolyutssi Station, as seen in Figure 7.

Figure 7. HVAC diffusers in Ploshchad Revolyutssi Station.

Moscow Metro stations are standardized following Kaganovich’s vision. A typical platform plan divides the station into three zones, including boarding areas on either side, a central hall in the middle, and a column zone where rows of large pylons separate the central hall from the train boarding area. The length of the three stations are about 525 feet. Okhotny Ryad Station is slightly longer at 540 feet. The width of the stations are uniform at 115 feet, based on Kaganovich’s subway station standardization. Stations are much more spacious than typical subway stations in New York City, Paris, or London. The station architects planned for spacious ceiling heights ranging from 15 to 20 feet. The location of the escalators is the main driver for the difference in size. The central hall of Okhotny Ryad Station (21 feet wide, 508 feet long, and 18 feet high) is more than twice as big as Teatralnaya’s central hall (WLH: 22ʹx218ʹx16ʹ) and one-and-a-half times bigger than Ploschad Revolyutssi Station. While escalators in Okhotny Ryad Station are located at either end of the platform, the other two stations’ halls are shortened because the escalators are placed somewhere in the middle. These central halls are just a fraction of Grand Central Terminal hall (120ʹx275ʹx125ʹ). However, the intensity of social activities is not insignificant.

Figure 8. Teatralnaya Station Central Hall. It is the favoured place for Muscovites to wait for their friends.

The main differences in the design of the three central halls are whether or the central hall has incorporated seating features in its station design. The presence of benches makes the biggest difference in the level of vibrancy in the central halls. Teatralnaya Station, where benches are imbedded between columns, attracts most of the social activities in underground public spaces (Figure 8). People stand in the middle of the central hall, sit on the benches, and lean against the wall during rush hour, creating a perfect social scene (Figure 4). Ivan Fomin artfully designed the benches in his original scheme. Unlike marble benches, wooden benches are just right for people to sit and keep warm in a cold winter. These benches in the central hall are half-recessed into the columns, creating a more intimate setting for people waiting. People love these benches such that more Muscovites stand in front, waiting for their friends and talking to each other (Figure 5) (Figure 9).

Figure 9. Central hall in Ploschad Revolyutssi Station in April 2017.

Compared to Teatralnaya, Ploschad Revolyutssi Station does not provide enough seating. Instead, Dushkin and Manizer integrated subway stations with artwork by creating a haven of “triangulation props.” The sculptures in Ploschad Revolyutssi Station are not mere objects to view (Figures 6 and 7). It is common to observe passengers boarding or getting off trains and touching particular parts of sculptures such as dog noses, chicken heads, baby’s feet, and guns. “Touching sculptures in Ploschad Revolyutssi Station is more like ritual or totem because not many Muscovites believe in god. It means good luck (Figure 10).”3Mitri, an art student studying sculpture, explains why people touch these sculptures. Muscovites passing through Ploschad Revolyutssi Station start their day with a wish for good luck. Often they get in single file to wait for their turn. People smile at each other and have light conversation while they are waiting. It is the quintessential example of Whyte’s “triangulation prop”, facilitating casual contacts among strangers.

Figure 10. “Triangulation prop” in Ploschad Revolyutsii Station. Muscovites touch statue on the way to work or home.

Okhotny Ryad Station does not provide any features of sitting spaces nor sculptures; however, the central hall is still the place for meeting. Two escalator banks were added in a third section on both ends of the central hall to facilitate transfer to Teatralnaya Station in the 1940s. The two escalator banks sector out the zone in the middle reserved for a waiting space. It is wide enough and placed outside of the heavy pedestrian traffic. The shape of columns on the sides contributes to transforming the space into a waiting area. The columns are double-elongated octagons, creating a recessed space in the middle. It is a kind of Jan Gehl’s “soft edge” (Gehl 2010, 75). Gehl describes “soft edge” as a façade where a lot of things can happen. His typical soft edge is the ground floor of buildings where many doors and windows are placed to facilitate communication between inside and outside. This colonnade shares the same configuration in a way, as people travel through the columns and move about the space. People tend to stand or lean against the recessed space or columns. The central hall in Okhotny Ryad Station is another version of an active underground public space (Figure 11).

Figure 11. Central Hall of Okhotny Ryad Station in 2017. People lean against the pylon while they wait.

3.3. Connecting tunnels

When the three stations were finished in 1938, there was no connection to each station except the entrance halls on the street level, which were shared by connecting stations. To transfer to another subway line, passengers had to exit through escalators and travel down to reach their destination. From the 1940s, a new set of tunnels was built in the middle of the central halls to provide access to other stations. Pairs of escalators, stairs, and long tunnels were built to facilitate easy transfer among subway lines (Figure 12).

These tunnels and connections were not a new concept. Subway station planners always want to increase connectivity to allow an “effortless transfer” environment. One unique aspect of Moscow’s subway tunnels, however, is that these are one-way corridors that force passengers to follow a particular direction when transferring to another subway line; architects refer to this circulation as a “race track” configuration.

Figure 12. Circulation strategy in three subway stations.

One-way corridors are effective movement strategies to handle passenger circulation in crowded stations. In a way, the circulation diagram resembles the veins connecting different organs. To transfer to Teatralnaya Station, the trip begins at the central hall in Okhotny Ryad Station. Foot traffic to and from Teatralnaya Station is split through the escalators in the middle. The western escalator is dedicated to the traffic towards Teatralnaya Station, and the other is for people arriving at Okhotny Ryad Station. Split traffic is possible because of the dedicated one-way tunnels.

Teatralnaya Station handles complex movements of people because it is located between the Okhotny Ryad and Ploshchard Revolyutsii stations. The station planners organized the traffic by zoning out departure and arrival points for transfer. Passengers transferring from the other two stations arrive at Teatralnaya Station from either end of the platform, while passengers leaving Teatralnaya Station start their transfer in the middle of the central hall via the stairs. Thus, the transfer in Teatralnaya Station is rather simple because the station planners cleverly sectioned out the circulation when laying out the station plan.

In the Ploshchard Revolyutsii Station, traffic from Teatralnaya arrives at the station at the western end of the platform. Passengers who wish to move east towards Teatralnaya or Okhotny Ryad move through the escalators located in the central hall and continue their journey through one-way corridors similar to Okhotny Ryad Station. The pedestrian circulation strategy is widely adopted throughout the Moscow Metro. Thus, there is less chance of becoming confused if you are familiar with the general rules for transfer.

Figure 13. Transfer Corridor from Ploschad Revolyutsii Station to Teatralnaya Station.

The architectural styles of the corridors are different from those of the stations, reflecting a change in architectural style. The tunnel connecting Okhotny Ryad and Teatralnaya was built in 1945, when the Neoclassical style was the predominant trend in Russian architecture (Figure 13). The tunnels are furnished with plaster and ceramic tiles embossed with art pieces, similar to the station design of Ivan Fomin and Aleksey Dushkin. The second set of tunnels was built later without any ornaments, following the austere but monumental Stalinist style (Figure 14). These tunnels are rather narrow compared to others; however, the design of the tunnel compensates for the spatial restraints. The tunnels have inversed u-shape section profiles where the side walls are about six feet high and aligned with people’s eye level. The ceiling is plastered white without any joints or cracks. The lighting and white surface wash off shades, making it difficult to fathom the depth of the ceiling.

The application of two distinct architectural characteristics in corridor design, Neoclassical and Stalinist style, is an example of a rather subtle wayfinding strategy in underground spaces. Westerly direction corridors are furnished with a Neoclassical interior, while easterly corridors are austere without ornaments. It is the station planners’ consideration in details and human interaction that leads to a much more subtle approach to wayfinding than colorful paint over concrete walls. The wayfinding strategy in the Moscow subway is guiding or even forcing pedestrians to follow the rules set by station operators, and a couple of signs are all they need. Naturally follow the flow, and then you’ll arrive at your destination. It is another example of Soviet authoritarian planning.

Figure 14. Busking in Transfer Corridor.

Despite the variety in architectural style, the corridors are uncrowded with a rather dull range of activities. Waves of commuters march down the corridors during rush hours. Some people perform in the corners of corridors where there is less supervision, and a few beg for help. However, these corridors are primarily for circulation; not many people stop or communicate with others as they walk. Few design elements attract people in the corridors; blank walls in a Neoclassical style do not lure Muscovites. Footsteps are the only resonating sound in the corridors, which are even more dramatic with the perfect acoustics from the profile of the inversed u-shape corridor.

3.4. Rediscovery of escalators

Muscovites regarded escalators as “the stuff of science fiction” when introduced first in 1935; now these machines are the defining experience of the Moscow subway (Wolf 1994, 82). Escalators are a prominent feature of the Moscow stations; passengers must descend from the street to reach the platform level. Escalators were selected by engineers and political leaders to enhance the subway experience, as described earlier. However, the engineers and politicians did not predict the social value of escalators in present-day Moscow.

Figure 15. Lovers on escalators in Okhotny Ryad Station.

Escalators are the landmarks to orient oneself in the underground. Often a Moscow station is anchored by banks of escalators at either end, connecting the platform to the head house at the street level. The location of escalators is standardized at either end to reduce confusion in wayfinding; still, people are disoriented by the strict symmetrical configuration. Each bank consists of three escalators; one upward, another downward, and one in the middle switched up or down to address demand changes during rush hour. The longest escalator is located in Teatralnaya, and it takes 1 minute 37 seconds to descend from street to platform level (Figure 15).

Figure 16. A range of social activities take place in Moscow Metro escalators.

Despite the seeming inhumane characteristics, escalators in the Moscow subway are the place where rich social activities take place. Counterintuitively, people socialize more on the mechanized steps than on the street because escalators allow people to pause while they are on them. People chat with their friends, finish their coffee, read newspapers or books, and text or make calls while they are on escalators. Many activities can happen during this brief moment (Figure 16).

Figure 17 is the summary of the observed activities on the 24 escalators of Okhotny Ryad, Teatralnaya, and Ploshchard Revolyutsii stations to see how people use escalators. I observed and counted the activities and the number of people passing by in the next lane.

Figure 17. Activities on Escalators.

On average, 650 people pass the opposite lane. 65% of people were just standing still, while about 7.5% was passing by. For identifiable activities on the escalator, 15% was either looking at their cell phones or reading newspapers or books, and other 10% was actively talking to other people. While the proportion of people looking at their smart phones did not change much, the number of observed conversations was higher in the afternoon and evening. Even during evening rush hour from 5:00 PM to 6:30 PM, the number of conversations peaked at 16.8%. Comparing people looking at their phones and talking to others, the number of observed conversations was slightly higher except in morning rush hour. Similar to New York City’s Oculus West Concourse Corridor, escalators turned into social spaces in the afternoon and evening. When people can afford an extra minute with their friends and colleagues, they tend to utilize every second on escalators, whereas in the morning rush hour, they storm through corridors and escalators to avoid being late for work. Additionally, it is not rare to see couples falling in love on escalators. An escalator step is the perfect setting for a couple to make eye contact. It is not difficult to see a couple kissing on escalators; the most intense social activities are routine in the hidden city of Moscow.

4. Conclusions

Muscovites devised an entirely new kind of hybrid; an efficient infrastructure and meaningful public space at the same time. Despite the Metro began from a highly political propaganda to show superiority of communist society over capitalist, Moscow Metro is the result of the relentless effort to improve public welfare. Russian subway planners resisted to follow Western precedents. They did not settle on creating just functional space with poor environment quality, instead, they demanded higher quality public service. The ideological motivation, “welfare of the masses,” was the pertinent design philosophy for designing public spaces in transit hub.

Many factors contribute to the success of underground public spaces in Moscow. Decent year-round thermal comfort is one of the reasons for the success. People stay underground in windy Russian winter as well as summer. In addition to thermal comfort, the design of these underground public spaces better accommodates Muscovites needs to stay safe. Benches and architectural features allow people to use the space better and longer. Heavy columns on subway platform are spaced out enough to prevent any blind spot but arranged close enough to define spaces. Users of these spaces benefit from the location of central halls; round-a-clock security is provided by continuous flow of passengers to and from subway trains and streets above.

For layperson’s view, “Comparing subways in New York City and Paris, Moscow subway is much easier to use. In terms of wayfinding, Moscow Metro has clear wayfinding strategy. [Those in] New York City and Paris are confusing to find way out.”4 Despite the clear circulation strategy, however, Moscow stations are symmetrical. Locating escalators on both sides is a clear wayfinding strategy for exiting and entering stations. But it is difficult to know which of these exits lead to. Even more experienced Muscovites are often confused because of the symmetry; only a sign can tell them which is the right exit for them.

What can we learn from the case study of Moscow’s Metro? The following is the summary of design consideration of underground space from Moscow subway stations.

  • Satisfying functional characteristics: As with other common streets and passages, underground spaces are required to satisfy the basic function of pedestrian thoroughfares. Similar to the indoor corridor, the minimum width is 1.8 meters for double-loaded. Due to the carrying capacity and the sense of space, passages are often larger than double-loaded corridors.

  • Enough width and ceiling height: Unlike aboveground corridors with looking out windows, underground space is limited with the visual extent. Therefore, additional width and ceiling height can help users relieving the fear of being closed or confined. The minimum ceiling height is 2.4 meters, and the recommended height of continuous passageways is 2.7 meters.

  • Round ceiling: The pedestrian tunnels in Moscow subway stations are shaped as round ceiling connecting the wall with the ceilings. This treatment causes optical illusion making the tunnels look larger and higher, which is useful in long and narrow corridor passages.

  • Design of tunnels: As Previously described, the underground space is effective to facilitate social activities when it is designed as the above-ground streets and plazas. Not only the materials but also the design principles of the aboveground public spaces have shared the underground.

 

Millions of people travel through underground spaces every day in any city with a subway system. They can either hate the narrow and foul-odour corridor or enjoy the commute as on a vibrant street or promenade. As we can see in the many examples of working and empty aboveground public spaces, underground public spaces can be meaningful civic places for people when architects and urban designers adopt place-making practice in below-grade spaces.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Correction Statement

This article has been republished with minor changes. These changes do not impact the academic content of the article.

Additional information

Funding

This research was partly funded by University of Ulsan (grant number: 2021-0437).

Notes on contributors

Jae Min Lee

Jae Min Lee is an Assistant Professor in the School of Architecture at the University of Ulsan. He has research interests in non-conventional and underground public space, ecological modeling of cities and regions, and bridging the gap between quantitative and qualitative research traditions in urban design.

Notes

1 William Wolf (1994) presented the history of the first Metro line in his doctoral dissertation focusing on political and engineering challenges and how Muscovites overcome the challenges. Alexander Zmeul (2016) presented the architectural history of Moscow Metro including history after the first phase.

2 Axonometric of three subway station is drawn by author. Dimensions and layout are estimated on the trip to the site. I also refer to publicly available website including Moscow Metro map (https://metro2.org/msk/stations/ohotny-ryad, access on 6 June 2017).

3 Interview with Mitri on 21 April 2017.

4 Interview with Tonya on 20 April 2017.

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The Next Frontier in Urban Design Will Send You Undeground

The Next Frontier in Urban Design Will Send You Undeground

Move over Morlocks, humans are headed to your neighborhood

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