Tag: daily life philosophy

Fluid Society Note: The Dutch Housing War

Preface

Since corona and the liquidity of modern life are so intertwined, I found it necessary to start this separate diary which focuses more on the poignant effects of the current society, in which we often feel estranged from the objects and subjects that surround us. An inconceivable society wherein nothing seems to be constant and stable.

It tries to capture an individual view on the instability and uncertainty the technocratic neoliberalist profit tenet has led us to be, after the disintegration of metaphysics and religion, about a hundred years ago. Nietzsche -if I may paraphrase- remarked that the disentanglement of religion and metaphysical philosophy would be highly inadvisable. So where do we stand right now?

Today’s housing situation in the Netherlands might reveal to what extent stability is a plain imaginative delusion, and to what extent do we really need a physical home. Perhaps, using my individual psychological experience proves to demonstrate this phenomenon most precisely. This series of notes called ‘Fluid Society Notes’ will cover such contemporary challenges from an individual perspective.

The Crumbs of Accomodation

The Dutch housing war, as I would like to call it, has intensified once more. Currently we’re fighting for a space to live in Utrecht, which lies even closer to the housing frontline. Groningen could already be marked as one of the worst places for housing in the world, but Utrecht really steals the show.

As we scavenge through the leftover crumbs of Dutch accommodation, we witness the most mutilated, ugly and abhorrent dog shelters one could possibly imagine (and beyond), rented out for downright outrageous sums. We’ve seen apartments which were actually basements without daylight, located literally underneath more costly ones; daylight has become a privilege. Only oxygen is still for free.

In Groningen we begin to witness the destruction the devastating housing war is causing. In its outermost outskirts, many former family houses -initially built for those with a meagre income- have been divided into student houses. Meanwhile, many families in poverty are waiting perpetually for a reasonably priced home. It’s likely to be a result of social housing being sold on the relentless investor market. 

WI-FI Capsules

These odd, charmless student homes can easily be detected, for their only purpose is to serve as WIFI capsules. During corona times, all classes are held online. If Maslow would have lived nowadays, he might’ve placed WiFi at the bottom of his pyramid. Before all else.

But inasmuch as the WiFi in those places may be fast, it certainly doesn’t cheer up the street’s ambiance, nor does it anyhow add a sense of youthfulness to the hood. Rather a worrisome sense of apprehension for the incoming generation, who, by the way, barely show themselves. Their black curtains are closed all day and their premises look unmaintained. 

There is vermin all around and rusty (swap) bikes lay stacked onto each other. Food is ordered online so there is no need for these timid creatures to venture outside and risk encountering real human beings.

Conclusion; very unexpectedly, it turns out that corona, universities and the Dutch housing market are cooperating to fully realize E.M Forster’s dystopian world in his story The Machine Stops, where people live underground, surrounded by everything they could desire, except reality. 

Header image: Margot Polinder

© Stefan Hoekstra/The Social Writer, 2020. Unauthorized use/and or duplication of this material without express and written permission from the site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full name and clear credit is given to Stefan Hoekstra and The Social Writer with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. 

Summer Journal: Dutch Siesta

I’ve started a summer journal. This is a note from 26-06-2020.

It’s 11:57 PM now. The temperature is about 23 degrees celsius. It has been the warmest day so far this year. And -yes I might sound ungrateful- hopefully the last. As said in earlier notes, this country is underprepared for this type of weather. It doesn’t have a siesta like in Spain. The economy isn’t halted even the slightest bit. Activities aren’t postponed. Life doesn’t slow down. Work intensity isn’t diminished. 

Frankly, the approach in the Netherlands seems to be even counterintuitive: The stronger the heatwave, the more active Dutch people become. Today, streets were sprawling with sweaty folks, hurrying to and fro on their bike with a red face. To the beach. To work. To the terrace. Or to accomplish all these activities within the same day. 

Despite global warming, Dutch people still gratify each warm day as if it were the last. Muggy and uncomfortable days like these are still perceived as seldom and need to be fully exploited. I think it’s a reflex which occurs whenever we see ’thirty degrees’ appearing on the forecast. It’s an old habit, originating from the harsh winters and disappointing summers we used to have in the past.

But those times are now disappearing and slowly being replaced by hot and wet seasons, like in Asia. As with any obsession, not much is left of its origins, but the reflex remained. Foreigners from warmer countries must witness this awkward summer obsession with spanish shame. 

Air Conditioners

A related development is the multiplied purchase of air conditioners. From a growing amount of apartments, I see the unmistakable airco hoses sticking out of the windows. Some inhabitants have even fabricated a wooden construction, from where the hose can eject the warm air. 

Herewith, I’d like to make a modest correlation with the end of mankind. It’s quite a simple circle really: People have made the world warmer by using too much energy, and now they need air conditioners to bear with the heat they created, using more energy, increasing warmth even more, for which more air conditioners are needed. 

Why would this be the end of mankind? Well, because people buy the air conditioners for their own good, and don’t take into account the macro outcome. A large chunk of people cannot transcend their own life-span. Long term effects are therefore not considered, for it won’t be their responsibility anymore after they die; Most of the ecological problems of the world of today, have been created by those who didn’t care about the world of tomorrow.

It’s outright selfish, but unfortunately very natural human behaviour. The end of mankind is near, but if you happen to be an air conditioner salesman, you might be able to hold out a little longer than the rest of us. You might even be the last man standing.

Photo credit: Tim Roosjen

© Stefan Hoekstra/The Social Writer, 2020. Unauthorized use/and or duplication of this material without express and written permission from the site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full name and clear credit is given to Stefan Hoekstra and The Social Writer with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.