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The Micro Level
Thus, in order to combine the macro and the meso scale with the 1:1 scale of the field, we decided to reuse the concept of gentrification to recruit respondents for the study. In other words, we broke down the concept of gentrification into socio-demographic characteristics in order to recruit people according to whether they were gentrified or gentrifying. Since the type of profession (occupation groupings from Catégories Socio-Professionnelles CSP level 1) is the criterion that is most likely to differentiate one from the other, we made it a central recruitment criterion. Thus we decided to recruit by “ideal-typical situations”, in order to catch general social processes (Becker, 2014; Passeron, 2015), in particular gentrification (Clerval, 2013). For instance, we assume that an artisan, who does not own his or her main dwelling, and has a low income tax rate is typically a gentrified person. Conversely, we would have a chance to find a gentrifier by recruiting an executive who owns his own home and whose tax bill is high. The micro level raises questions described in Table 1.
Table 1. Questions at the Micro Level
| For the gentrified | For the gentrifiers |
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In the end, our “scaffolding” brought together different scales of analysis, the combination of which should make it possible to fill in the blind spots specific to each one:
- The macro scale counterbalances the empirical ground level by allowing us to detect social processes nested in an observation or an interview—which are invisible to the naked eye.
- Then, the meso scale makes it possible to take into account the influence of urban characteristics on shopping for food practices; a spatial dimension that is difficult to capture by statistics alone.
- Finally, the micro scale captures how individuals experience these general social processes, which are invisible from the top of the scaffolding.
Our hypothesis for scale was then to compare two monographs: If the characteristics of neighbourhood A (e.g. gentrification) could be observed in a neighbourhood B, our teachings, fueled by observations, interviews, and other statistical and cartographic data, would be valid. Therefore, in our model, a teaching is “valid” when it is observed in two different monographs. In other words, where the results were identical, we could duplicate the new offers; for example, a concierge service or a new food range. Where they were different, we couldn’t do that, or, at least we would need to restart a study. The equation is as follows: if typical cases x urban characteristics of A = typical cases x urban characteristics of B then the model is scalable.
RESULTS
Resources Under Pressure
Looking at INSEE’s statistical data, one of the first things that struck us was the extreme density of this neighbourhood. In 2010, 44,744 inhabitants lived there per km2. In other words, there are twice as many inhabitants in this neighbourhood as in the rest of Paris on average (21,200). By way of comparison, there are 7,100 inhabitants in New York City per km2 on average in the same year.
But after all, why is this a problem? It’s a problem because it means that demographic pressure is putting pressure on the resources located in this territory—the foreground space. Hence, for example, policies to de-densify the territory, as shown in Figure 3 with what urban planners call a “green tooth”, i.e. public gardens installed between two buildings.
Figure 3. Installation of a public garden on Voltaire Boulevard, in front of Saint-Ambroise Church. ©_unknowns
Said in less policed terms, it means that residents are competing for the space and facilities there: housing, green spaces, parking, and of course food stores. For example, one need only look at the neighbourhood’s public library to observe traces of saturation; such as this calendar posted at the entrance to a public library that informs about usage levels (see Figure 4). By walking around the shelves of this same library, one understands something else: to avoid being deprived of available resources, some residents bypass the commonly established rules for sharing these resources. They do this in order to capture resources before they are captured by others—in this case cultural goods such as DVDs as shown in Figure 5.
Figure 4. Poster representing the peak hours of the Parmentier media library. ©_unknowns
Figure 5. Media library of Parmentier, on level -1, in the poetry corner, a little isolated from the main aisles. The sign tells patrons not to hide the DVDs “behind the books.” ©_unknowns
Another characteristic of the neighbourhood is the relative difficulty of getting around. Coupled with the high density, the narrowness of the sidewalks as well as the level breaks make the transport of shopping a real ordeal. So much so, that when faced with a commodity, some inhabitants estimate the effort required to bring their goods home before deciding that when on foot, they will be selective about what they purchase. In the end, the answer to this question has of course an influence on the choice of store. But it also gives rise to tactics to reduce the drudgery—such as the interviewee who buys heavy goods only in the grocery store downstairs. Others divide up the carrying work, such as the interviewee who asks her neighbour to go to the store with her to help carry water bottles home. From this perspective, helping individuals with their errands means reducing a constraint produced by the meeting of demographics (high density) and urban characteristics (narrow sidewalk, level breaks).
Thinking Customer Segmentation Through Gentrification.
Up to now, we have talked about competition from residents without really specifying the identity of the protagonists. Who are these inhabitants? How do they form sub-groups? And above all, do they have different needs in terms of food shopping? In order to find the most differentiating marker possible, we used the concept of gentrification, or embourgeoisement in French. This notion comes from the Anglo-Saxon geography of the 1960s. To my knowledge, it was the sociologist Ruth Glass (1962) who first used gentrification to describe, in the neighbourhoods of Notting Hill and Islington, the transition from a working-class population to a more affluent population, the gentry.
The lens of gentrification allows us to sociologize our analysis a little more. It can now be hypothesized that competition for resources is a social competition, bringing together social groups that do not have the same characteristics and therefore may not always have the same interests.
Statistics about changing professional classes also established that gentrification occurred in the neighbourhood. If we look at them, we learn that between 1954 and 2010, the share of Executives and Senior Intellectual Professions, Business Leaders, and Intermediate Professions increased by 45 points, from 28.6% to 73.8%. This is exactly the number of points lost by the share of blue-collar and white-collar workers over the same period: from 71.4% in 1954, to 2010 representing 26.2% of the population of the 11th district. This inversion continues today. If we compare only workers and executives and higher intellectual professions, we can see that between 2010 and 2015 the share of the former is decreasing (from 5.1% to 4.3%), while the share of the latter is increasing (from 30.3% to 32.5%). In short, managers are the majority in the district and blue-collar workers are the minority professional class.
If we take it down a notch further, at CSP level 2 which are trades professions, this means that garage owners, masons, craftsmen, cobblers, upholsterers, printers, and metalworkers have gradually given way to artists, production managers, association leaders, theatre company administrators, nurses and secondary school teachers. This was what we could call the first wave of gentrification. In a second phase, senior executives arrived in the neighbourhood: they were more likely to be professionals (lawyers, doctors, company directors) or private sector executives (consultants, senior managers, etc.). In 2015, higher education graduates represent 2/3 of the population (61.5%). These sociological changes are modifying the supply of catering and food consumption in the district. Figure 6 shows an organic grocery store on avenue Parmentier which replaces a low-cost Franprix market.
Figure 6. Bio c’Bon organic grocery store near the Drive on avenue Parmentier. ©_unknowns
If we zoom in a little more, this time at the individual level, we can see that these changes are assessed differently. On the one hand, gentrified people castigate these changes because they see small traders disappearing in favour of restaurants. Figure 7 exemplifies a gentrified space that’s opened in the neighbourhood. A resident in Voltaire who is a receptionist at the Maison des Associations describes this change:
“We used to have a new food trader [greengrocer, butcher, fishmonger] every week—[She turns around and shows me the shops in front of Maurice Gardette Square]—now we have no more shops. Now it’s just restaurants, look: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. We’ve got more than that. And rue Saint-Maur is just that. Only bars and restaurants.”
Figure 7. Cocktail bar and open space La Popina at rue Saint-Maur. Inside, a white man of about 40 years old in a white V-neck t-shirt consults his iPhone. A Mac decorated with a sticker is placed in front of him. ©_unknowns
Clothing wholesalers crystallize the opposition. For the poorest gentrified, they are an opportunity to buy affordable clothes—that is to say, to control their spending. As a saleswoman in a jewellery shop explains, “It’s tempting because there are some interesting items, eh? I’ve tried, but no, no, no, we don’t buy retail. But they have some nice stuff.” On the other hand, for the gentrifiers, these wholesalers have to close down to make way for shops more in line with their taste, that is to say with their social position. As the director of a business school in the 12th arrondissement explains:
“On Boulevard Voltaire, all the Chinese wholesalers are leaving. I hope I don’t have to tell you this, but they are being replaced by shops. We are very curious to know who is moving in. […] In fact the Marais, finally the transformation of Beaumarchais must come to Voltaire. [What shops do you like in Beaumarchais?] It’s clothes shops, it’s APC, the Blend restaurant […] all the brands we like Maje, Bonpoint for children.”
This was the first interview of the study and it seemed to us emblematic of the more global process of modification of the sociological composition of the neighbourhood. In the end, it could have been called “extraordinary gentrification calculation” because our business school-educated director finally had a winning speech: not only did he want to take advantage of the effects of gentrification, but also to multiply them.
Obviously, the installation of these new populations is not without opposition. By settling, the newcomers also install new rules: what can be allowed in the neighbourhood or what is no longer possible. These new rules are sometimes denounced by the former inhabitants, who feel like they are “dispossessed” of their former stronghold. An association leader described her outrage that the bourgeois call the police when young people play football outside the hours set by the town hall: “[And the population, you’ve seen it change in recent years…] But yes, even in the square, Maurice Gardette, there are obnoxious people. They are the bourgeois who want order.”
But what do food races have to do with it? In fact, the establishment of this type of business may give the gentrifiers hope of attracting their fellow people, i.e. other executives, other engineers, or other lawyers. And thus, strengthen their presence in the neighbourhood by multiplying the small bastions in order to occupy the space. Here they will be able to live out their social status.
In the long term, it is a question of increasing the added value of their residence when they sell it. In other words, from this point of view, gentrifiers have every interest in ousting businesses that do not inspire confidence among future buyers who look at the type of store in a neighbourhood to decide whether or not to invest there. This is an indication of the progress of the gentrification front. From this point of view, an organic store is a favourable index; a discount store is an unfavourable index.
But this eviction should not be total. The geographer Anne Clerval (2013) points out that newcomers to the working-class districts of Paris also need to stage their anchoring in the neighbourhood they have newly moved into.
“The frequenting of small shops gives the gentrifiers the impression that they are participating in the sociability of the neighbourhood (164) […]” despite the social and cultural differences that they import there. In other words, it is a means of capturing symbolic profits, those offered by the reputation of being “open-minded.”
On the nice side, however, they fear that they can no longer afford to live in their neighbourhood because the price of housing and various goods is rising faster than their wages. Staying in the 11th arrondissement therefore forces them to invent different schemes. As far as food shopping is concerned, we met gentrified people who simply stopped shopping in the neighbourhood. They now have to get their supplies elsewhere in Paris, i.e. where gentrification has not yet arrived:
“The last purchases I made on special offer was dishwashing liquid; in normal times it’s between 1.60€ and 1.80€ and on offer it’s 3 for 3€—so if there are bargains in Auchan [in Bagnolet], often it’s on Wednesdays, I go there…I also look on the Internet every Sunday, I look at all the signs. That’s how I do my shopping.”
If we think of food shopping sessions as “acts”, then we can say that the gentrified are gradually becoming deprived of a means of asserting their belonging to their neighbourhood every time they give up.