URBAN ENVIRONMENTAL EDUCATION:

A COMMUNITY PSYCHOLOGY PERSPECTIVE

Iain M. Butterworth and Adrian T. Fisher

Department of Psychology
Victoria University of Technology
PO Box 14428
Melbourne City MC, 8001

Published in Environment-behaviour research on the Pacific Rim: Proceedings of the

11th International Conference on People and Physical Environment Research, pp. 367-376.
Sydney, Australia: University of Sydney (2000).

ABSTRACT
During the last three decades, environmental education (EE) research has had some success in identifying factors
affecting people’s environmental understanding and personal behaviour. However, much EE has been targeted at
school children, tending to focus on the natural environment, at the expense of urban environments in which much of
the world’s people live. This paper identifies the opportunity to integrate environmental psychology and community
psychology into an empowerment-oriented model of urban adult EE. Many urban environmental issues reflect
residents’ limited discretion over local development decisions which can damage their sense of urban amenity and
sense of community.

Reflecting on environmental psychology principles could enable residents to identify how their sense of
environmental aesthetics, preferences, place, and privacy, are all affected by invasive changes to their local built
environment. Exploring community psychology approaches could assist residents to identify the symbols and shared
history reflected in their built environment that contribute to their sense of place, identity, meaning, and, ultimately,
their sense of community.

Equipped with an understanding of environmental psychology and community psychology concepts, residents would
be better able to argue their case in a technical language currently used by developers and bureaucrats to limit
meaningful grassroots participation in urban development. Residents could be similarly encouraged to develop skills
and confidence in identifying power relationships underlying their concerns, and engaging in personal and collective
advocacy.

Keywords: environmental education; empowerment; sense of community, urban amenity

INTRODUCTION
In some quarters, environmental education (EE) has been criticized for its political conservatism and
focus on school children (Robottom & Hart, 1993) and the natural environment (Weintraub, 1995). It
has served to raise awareness of environmental issues, but many of the solutions fostered are in terms
of lifestyle changes – recycling, etc (Geller, Winett & Everett, 1982, Hines, Hungerford & Tomera,
1986/87; Leeming, Dwyer, Porter, & Cobern, 1993; Sia, Hungerford, & Tomera, 1985/86) – rather
than having an impact on substantive political level reforms.

While EE currently is largely absent from the debate on urban environments, it has the potential to play an
important role in assisting residents to reflect and act on the importance of the physical aspects of their
local neighbourhood to their personal and collective sense of safety and well-being (Baba & Austin,
1989), leading, ultimately, their participation in their local community (Arias, 1996; Perkins, Brown, &
Taylor, 1996). It will be argued that EE can be an instrumental force in enabling residents to develop
skills and confidence in personal and collective advocacy on urban amenity and heritage.

1
This paper will argue that the struggle to protect urban amenity is an environmental issue. Residents’
concerns are seen to be the direct psychological consequences of invasive changes to their built
environment, in which their senses of aesthetics (Kaplan & Kaplan, 1989), preferences (e.g., Rapoport,
1982), place (e.g., Altman, 1993; Hiss, 1990), privacy (Altman, 1975; Wilson & Baldassare, 1996), and
their sense of community (Perkins et al., 1996; Plas & Lewis, 1996) are being attacked and the wisdom of
their views on sensitive and sensible urban planning is ignored. EE can assist residents to understand –
and bridge – the perceptual and ideological gulf that often separates them from developers and politicians
(e.g., Appleyard, 1980; Clunies-Ross, 1994, Sinclair & Diduck, 1995), and to assert their concerns in a
technical language that developers and bureaucrats will have to acknowledge.

THE PSYCHOLOGICAL DIMENSIONS OF DEVELOPMENT

We do not just ‘exist’ within a physical environment – we interact with it and derive important meaning
from it (Altman 1993). Altman stated that places and buildings are more than just props in people’s lives;
they are imbued with meaning and resonance. They symbolize people’s personal histories, interpersonal
relationships, and shared events in their extended relationships, families, communities and wider culture.
Indeed, the built environment is a repository for our collective memory (Boyer, 1994). Our experience of
a change in a place is “both a serious environmental issue and a deeply personal one” (Hiss, 1990, p. xi).
When cherished places and spaces are destroyed or irrevocably changed beyond our control, we feel a
sense of loss and grief. Yet, we have no English word to describe the psychological effects of being
uprooted, displaced, or dispossessed from a loved place (Read, 1996).

Commenting on the relationship between placelessness and participation in planning, Relph (1976)
argued that it is not that we cannot create a sense of meaning even in the most bland of modern urban
environments; it is that we currently participate so minimally in their creation or maintenance.
Consequently, “people live in buildings that inspire them or depress them and they don’t even realise it”
(Leunig, cited in Beck, 1998, pp. 64).

By placing primary importance on immediate economic return, developers often overlook many
psychologically important, ‘intangible’ factors, such as people’s aesthetic values in the visual
environment (Kaplan & Kaplan 1989). Environments that ‘make sense’ afford a degree of coherence; the
individual parts combine to form an harmonious whole. People prefer environments that can be
understood, yet contain sufficient complexity and mystery to invite further involvement and interaction
(Kaplan & Kaplan, 1982). Appleyard (1980) discovered that the public’s ‘urban vocabulary’ – their ways
of experiencing and assessing their built environment – differed significantly from designers’. While
public attention focussed on a building’s visibility, contour, social significance, the types of users and
their interaction it, designers emphasised its size and shape. In addition, people initially tend to evaluate
buildings for their overall affective impact, rather than for specific detail (Rapoport, 1982). Old buildings
are often preferred over new buildings when they and their grounds are adequately maintained, due to the
complexity, mystery and coherence they afford when compared with new developments (Herzog & Gale,
1996).

PARTICIPATION AND POWER IN URBAN PLANNING

Local community perspectives on participation in urban planning often differ widely from those of
developers. Local residents value participating because it enhances their existing sense of community and
their life chances, and expresses their democratic right to have a meaningful say in the decisions that
affect them (Clunies-Ross, 1994). Arnstein (1969) identified the importance of differentiating between
‘empty rituals’ of participation in planning and citizens having real power needed to affect the outcome of
the process. Drawing on Arnstein’s ladder of public power of decisions in participatory process, Sinclair
and Diduck (1995) stated that public involvement exercises typically involve informing, placation or

2
consulting, rather than offering any degree of citizen control, delegated power or genuine partnership
embodying shared decision-making. Figure 1 below identifies some of the current activities that are used
to invite participation, or to discourage it completely.

Despite people’s potential for a sophisticated reading and articulation of their environments, designers
have been reluctant to invite citizen participation (Harrison & Howard, 1980). For instance, after
comparing planning preferences generated by neighbourhood advocates with those of an architects’
group, and examining the visual amenity of plans developed through advocacy planning, Stamps and
Miller (1993) concluded that members of advocacy groups did not have the expertise to represent the
public interest adequately. However, this does not give recognition to the systemic obstacles faced by
community groups, already forced to defend their position, in accessing sufficient funds and appropriate
information to participate as equals in formal environments, in which dispassionate technical and legal
jargon often serves to alienate them, and discount their strongly held place attachments and experiential
knowledge (Rich, Edelstein, Hallman, & Wandersman, 1995).

Degrees of 8 Citizen control

citizen
participation 7 Delegated power

6 Partnership · Local council-resident collaboration

5 Placation · Minor modifications of plans

Degrees of · Information meetings organized by
tokenism developers
4 Consultation
· Community consultation groups
involving resident participation

3 Informing · Developer-run community newsletters

· Community liaison positions funded by

2 Therapy
developers
Nonparticipation · Biased media coverage
· Public relations
1 Manipulation
· Resident action groups established by
developers

Figure 1 Adaption of Arnstein’s (1969) ladder of citizen participation in planning, with examples of current activity
areas.

CATALYSTS FOR CONCERN: THE CASE OF ST KILDA

For over a century, St Kilda has been famed as a bohemian seaside resort, featuring surviving Victorian-
era landmarks such as Luna Park, the Palais Theatre, the St Kilda Pier and the Esplanade Hotel, as well as
period housing and the continental cake shops lining Acland Street. Following its zenith last century and
early this century as a resort for the genteel, several decades followed as the centre of Melbourne’s seedy
nightlife and artistic community. During recent years, the district has experienced rapid gentrification,
forcing out long-term low-income residents such as artists, boarding-house tenants and aged people
(Elder, 1998).

Ironically, many of the very landmarks that have drawn people to St Kilda for decades, are now under
threat from opportunistic development. For example, Becton Corporation recently submitted plans to
build a 35-storey apartment tower immediately behind the 120 year-old Esplanade Hotel, exceeding the

3
site’s height limit by 29 stories (Coorey, 1998), and threatening this centre for alternative culture (Shaw &
Spierings, 1998). Shaw and Spierings saw the Esplanade’s fate as evidence that “the buildings and
communities that have given Melbourne its life are being swept aside as Melbourne is transformed” (p.
A11).

Events in St Kilda, which one researcher experienced directly as a resident, reflect a recent “epidemic” of
hastily-built medium-density and high-rise development throughout Melbourne, triggered by low interest
rates, a renewed interest in inner-urban living, and a highly interventionist, pro-development State
government (Sutton, 1997a, p. D2; 1997b). Upon the Kennett government’s ascension, local councils
were amalgamated, their powers over planning and demolition were curtailed, and the Minister directly
approved some contentious development proposals (Sutton, 1997a; West, Bartholomew, & Davy, 1998).
In this deregulated climate, the government’s own medium density planning codes have often been
overlooked (Milner, 1995; VicCode 2 Review Panel, 1994).

These events are a further chapter in Australia’s turbulent history of town planning and development
(Ashton, 1993; Logan, 1986; McLoughlin, 1992), which has been “hampered at every level by private
property interests exerting influence on public authorities and on politicians” (Sandercock, 1977, p. x).
Yet with the onset of globalized economic rationalism, city planning worldwide is increasingly controlled
by private companies, who use urban space to maximize their own private profit (Rogers, 1998;
Sandercock, 1997). Decision-making power has been diverted from neighbourhoods and unions to
multinational corporations, making community access to local information, union support and decision-
making power even more difficult (Ashton, 1993; McLoughlin, 1992; Pilisuk, McAllister & Rothman,
1996). The increasingly sterile, monotonous urban landscapes serve to flatten people’s affect, inhibit
opportunities for community participation and underscore community disempowerment (Rogers, 1998;
Perkins et al., 1996).

During the last two years, residents in St Kilda and throughout Melbourne have formed action groups in
an attempt to provide a conduit for widespread community concern over threats to the urban amenity and
heritage of their neighbourhood (Sutton 1997a; b). Ironically, some members of the Save Our Suburbs
movement, which has established branches in almost 20 suburbs (Sutton, 1997b), have publicly distanced
themselves from any association with the environmental movement. As one convenor insisted: “We are
ordinary middle-class citizens.... I will not be tarred green under any circumstances.” (Carlyon, 1998, p.
25). It would appear that environmental education has a role to play in assisting residents to make the
connection between the quality of their urban environment, their quality of life, and the broader
understanding of environment (Weintraub, 1995). But the challenge is to develop EE strategies and
content which match adult learning styles and which will facilitate the necessary levels of political action
and advocacy skills required to operate in such forums.

CHALLENGES TO THE ROLE OF ENVIRONMENTAL EDUCATION

In the inaugural edition of the Journal of Environmental Education, Stapp et al. (1969) defined EE as
“...aimed at producing a citizenry that is knowledgeable concerning the biophysical environment and its
associated problems, aware of how to help solve these problems, and motivated to work towards their
solution” (p. 31). They argued that EE programs ought to encourage citizens to engage in individual and
collective social action. Yet subsequent research has failed to capture this early call for EE to foster
political awareness and individual and collective advocacy.

During successive decades, EE research has had some success in highlighting many factors which affect
people’s awareness and concern and influence them to make adjustments to their personal lifestyle. An
extensive body of research documents ways of enhancing children’s environmental understanding and
behaviour (Hungerford & Volk, 1990). However, the level of success does not match the need for deeper,
political levels of environmental action that can only be brought about by the collective involvement of

4
adults (Clover, 1995). By focussing apolitically and individualistically at children in formal educational
settings, EE has tended to ensure the socialization of children into the existing social structure and culture.
Instead, adults could be encouraged and equipped to engage in political debate and advocate for
legislative change needed to address the political root causes of environmental issues (Fien, 1993;
Robottom & Hart, 1993).

As an indicator of the inherent conservatism of most formal EE research, discussions of empowerment

have been largely individualistic and apolitical. Hungerford and Volk (1990) equated the construct with
self-esteem, self-efficacy, competency and locus of control. In contrast, community psychology literature
documents empowerment as a construct that not only conveys a psychological sense of control, but is also
concerned with democratic participation, political power and the rights of individuals, groups and
communities (Kieffer, 1984; Rappaport, 1987; Perkins & Zimmerman, 1995; Zimmerman & Rappaport,
1988). A systemic approach to EE would concentrate not solely on children’s educational needs, but also
would acknowledge the more direct connection between EE and changes to social policy through the
empowerment efforts of adults of voting age (Clover, 1995).

Much of the environmental movement is based on the perceived need for people to respond collectively to
an environmental crisis. If, however, we view ‘environment’ as an expression of a community’s
relationship with the natural resources on which its members depend, then any environmental crisis is, in
fact, a crisis within that relationship (Weintraub, 1995). Thus, when people talk of ‘saving the Earth’, they
are in fact talking of saving a relationship with the Earth that sustains (at least human) life. It is the
disconnection of people from this relationship that has led to over-exploitation of resources, degradation
of ecosystems and the inability to see the connection between environmental issues and other quality of
life issues, such as poverty. Moreover, Weintraub noted the connection between: “pressure on a
community’s environment, the community’s lack of political power, and the degraded quality of life of
that community... Sound environmental management...requires intimate knowledge of both the human and
the ecological condition” (pp. 356-357). Weintraub argued that in order to create a fulfilling EE,
educators must focus on promoting equity, justice, local community development and global awareness.
In can be inferred that this approach also encourages people to preserve and enhance their social
environment, in addition to their urban or natural environments (Mason & Randell, 1995).

With half the world’s human population to be living in urban environments by 2000 (Brown & Jacobsen,
cited in Schaefer, 1992), there is a need for EE to help people deal with their immediate environmental
concerns, as a starting point for extending their knowledge to include the ecology of life outside city
environments. Such a starting point also respects the principles of adult education, which documents the
need to initially engage adults in a socially critical reflection of their own, lived experience (Brookfield,
1986; Foley, 1995; Freire, 1970; Mezirow, 1991).

The educative role of environmental psychology

In contrast to environmental educators, environmental psychologists have not limited their concept of
‘environment’ to equate to ‘nature’, but have extended their notion to include the social and built
environments – and their interrelationships to individuals and social groups. Indeed, given the quantity of
environmental psychology research devoted to urban-human relations, it might be argued that EE and
environmental psychology have dwelt at opposite poles of conceptions of ‘environment’. Gifford (1987)
noted the extent of research in environmental psychology in three realms of human experience (i)
individual-level processes – such as perception, cognition, environmental appraisal, and individual
relationships to environment; (ii) social processes – including personal space requirements; territoriality;
influences on and effects of crowding; and privacy and (iii) societal-level processes – encompassing the
interrelationships between environmental stressors and the home, the local community and society; the
social impact of environmental noise; urban design, layout of cities and the social impact of commuting;
and social dilemmas involving the commons. Clearly, there are many issues covered in environmental
psychology that could be incorporated into EE aimed at, or developed by, urban residents.

5
SUGGESTED CONTENT AND PROCESS OF ADULT URBAN ENVIRONMENTAL
PROGRAM

Psychological Sense of Community and the Environment

Our sense of community and the likelihood of our participation in our local neighbourhood is intimately
linked to the built environment (Chavis & Wandersman, 1990). Sense of community has been defined as
“a feeling that members have of belonging, a feeling that members matter to one another and to the group,
and a shared faith that members’ needs will be met through their commitment to be together” (McMillan
& Chavis, 1986, p. 9). Neighbourhoods can be prescribed by government ordinance, or be organic,
resulting from patterns of interaction, folklore and identification built up over long periods. The sense of
belonging to a particular neighbourhood can derive from the symbolic boundaries that people use to
denote it. Boundaries include landmarks such as roads, railway lines or buildings, or other, more subtle
markers, such as trees, parks, spaces, or graffiti.

Architectural and urban planning features may foster communication and a sense of shared ownership
amongst residents, reduce crime, and encourage socializing and participation (Perkins et al., 1996). Sense
of community has been found to be positively affected by urban planning that encourages visual
coherence, diversity and attractiveness of houses and other buildings; affords sufficient privacy; ensures
residents have easy access to amenities, parks, recreation facilities and the town centre; offers pedestrian-
friendly spaces; provides streetscapes so that houses have views of the neighbourhood; encourages open
porches and low fences in order to encourage social interaction; and restricts motor traffic (Altman, 1975;
Appleyard & Lintell, 1982; Plas & Lewis, 1996; Wilson & Baldassare, 1996).

Old and interesting buildings are central to affording a sense of community, because of their symbolic
connection to the past. McMillan and Chavis (1986) stressed the importance of a common symbol system
and a shared history as basic building blocks of a sense of community. The symbolism of locally treasured
architectural landmarks, can provide a sense of collective identity, as well as serve as a boundary from
other districts. Working collectively to gain the political power needed to maintain and protect well-loved
local buildings cannot only provide people with a sense of personal investment in their local community,
but also help people to build on the social and relational sources (Heller, 1989).

Community Development Skills

To be able to make the most of their submissions at formal hearings, residents need to be able to analyse
the many sources of power of their opponents, and to identify their own (Freire, 1970; Manz & Gioia,
1983; Newman 1994). They also need to gain skills in advocating their position, including public
speaking skills, media skills and negotiation skills. In particular, residents need to gain skills in forming
and running grassroots groups, and the associated tasks of decision-making, communications skills, and
building networks and coalitions. Perkins et al. (1996) identified six cyclic steps of grassroots organizing:
(i) identifying shared problems; (ii) turning the problems into tangible issues, prioritizing them and select
an issue which has a chance of a ‘small win’ (Weick, 1984); (iii) develop a ‘flexible’ strategy and specific
tasks; (iv) recruiting members to engage in specific tasks; (v) evaluating the outcome of each strategy; and
(vi) directing the insights gained from the action back into the group. The notion of praxis – the cycle of
action and reflection (Brookfield, 1986; Freire, 1970) – forms the core not only of grassroots organizing,
but also of critical adult learning.

Effective adult learning for collective action

Group members and especially group leaders can benefit from identifying the methods that enable adults
to learn effectively. For true democratic, emancipatory education to occur, grassroots groups must act as
education settings in which “learners can experience power” (Foley, 1995, p. 50). Open discussion has
been promoted for many decades as a particularly powerful method for assisting adults to collaborate in

6
reflecting on their experiences and develop critical insight (Paterson, 1970). As early as 1948, Essert
promoted the discussion group as a replacement for the loss of sense of community associated with
urbanization (cited in Brookfield, 1986). Paterson noted that adults naturally employ discussion when
exploring or resolving issues.

Central to the power of discussion in adult learning is the persuasive influence of peer role models. As
peer learning groups, effectively convened grassroots groups can provide powerful motivators to learning
and strongly reinforce learning, as well as providing the setting for strong, healthy debate and exploration
of strongly opposing positions (Brookfield, 1986). Members of grassroots groups offer each other
reinforcement and peer support as part of their empowerment-oriented learning, and maintenance of their
collective well-being (Cox, 1991). Environmental group convenors can learn the appropriate
communication and leadership skills to guide members through effective peer discussion and decision-
making (e.g., AAACE, 1996). Figure 2 below identifies the manner in which the suggested educational
content areas can not only contribute to citizen participation, in accordance with Arnstein (1969), but also
counteract tokenism and nonparticipation.

· Community development skills

8 Citizen control · Peer leadership skills
Degrees of · Advocacy skills
citizen
participation 7 Delegated power · Action research skills

· Communication skills
· Negotiation skills
6 Partnership
· Environmental psychology principles
· Psychological sense of community

5 Placation
Degrees of
4 Consultation
tokenism
3 Informing · Advocacy skills
· Professional language skills
2 Therapy
Nonparticipation · Power audit
1 Manipulation · Community development skills

Figure 2 Adaption of Arnstein’s (1969) ladder of citizen participation in planning, identifying suggested educational
content areas.

CONCLUSION
This paper has argued for an empowerment-oriented model of adult EE that integrates environmental and
community psychology principles. In so doing, the approach to adult EE is designed to emphasise
community development notions of grassroots involvement in determining the future directions of one’s
local and broader urban environment. A rewarding and relevant urban EE could encourage residents to
gain an appreciation of the diverse ways in which they interact with, and relate to, their urban
environments. Reflecting on environmental psychology principles could enable residents to identify how
their sense of environmental aesthetics, preferences, place, and privacy, are all affected by invasive
changes to their local built environment. Exploring community psychology approaches could assist
residents to identify the symbols and shared history reflected in their built environment that contribute to
their sense of place, identity, meaning, and, ultimately, their sense of community.

7
In identifying rationales for planning, the meanings attributed to our environment are currently discussed
in many ways by various professional and resident groups. However, during the formal planning process,
residents are often excluded from full participation in the deliberation of issues such as aesthetics, urban
amenity, community membership and belonging, and participatory rights and obligations. While planning
often attempts to capture the amenity that gives current residents a sense of community, a belonging and
connection to the past, residents are often discounted as non-professionals exhibiting personal self
interest. Too late, it has been found that the amenity and community that residents have been trying to
preserve and promote are destroyed by those who build upon it.

By exploring the central role of praxis to grassroots organizing and advocacy, residents could develop
skills and confidence in identifying power relationships underlying their concerns, and engaging in
personal and collective advocacy. This would enable them to articulate their position to decision makers
and bureaucrats in the formal, technical terms currently used to exclude them from meaningful
participation in urban development. Residents would thus be in a stronger position to detail their reasons
for choosing to live where they do, how they derive their sense of community, and what their local
environment means to them. Ideally, this new-found assertiveness and clarity of communication would
enable stakeholders increasingly to engage in a more egalitarian dialogue embodying “free, full
participation in reflective discourse” (Mezirow, 1991, p. 7).

The present situation in urban environment appears, often, to be one of competing forces unable to come
to terms with the interests, needs and desires of the other. The proposed adult EE approach is designed to
develop a shift in the power base for negotiations in order that the urban environment can be seen as a
legitimate area of concern, rather than the conflict apparently emerging over claims of self-interest. The
program would increase the ability of residents to articulate the real and deep meanings that the built
environment carries for them – recognising that these meanings are shared and valued by a broader
constituency and which carries historical, psychological and personal validation of the past and directions
for the future. As residents move to this new position of articulation, it is incumbent on them to be able to
place their concerns into language and ideas that can be discussed on an equal footing with those holding
opposing positions. In this way, plans for changes, as well as conservation values, can be moved to a
higher plane and be discussed, compared and evaluated at a professional level.

The aims of the suggested EE program are to build upon adult education strategies in order for residents
to raise their political levels of awareness and activity. However, the political action is aimed to provide
constructive developments in order to aid in a process of planning and development that enhances the
community and urban amenity – sympathetic to the meanings and values inherent in much of what
already exists.

Being able to articulate clearly our relationship with and the personal meaning of our local, urban
environment can be seen as an important step for us to rebuild our connection to our environment – not
only our immediate urban environment, but also our natural and social environments.

8
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