Abstract
Transnational Municipal Networks (TMNs) are increasing in size, scope and number on the global arena. They reflect a tendency for city governments to coordinate environmental action through networked forms of governance. In this article, we argue that a new generation of TMNs has entered the global scene to help cities steer their efforts to handle environmental issues. In contrast to the characteristics of older TMNs as public, inclusive, and self-governed, new-generation TMNs are influenced by private actors, they are exclusive, and employ enforcement mechanisms to secure the fulfilment of network goals. To underline the diversity of TMNs and thus better understand urban networked governance, we present a case study of the 100 Resilient Cities initiative covering its conduct in 2013–2019. Looking at its actor composition and membership terms, we identify a hybrid nature different from the one described in earlier literature on European TMNs primarily. This subscription to a hybrid form of governance calls for a larger discussion on the implications of this shift in governance type and on the extent to which hybridisation implies a shift of power from the public to the private sphere.
Keywords
Introduction
Networked patterns of governance have progressively become prominent in the managing of environmental issues (Andonova et al., 2009; Bouteligier, 2013; Najam et al., 2004; Pattberg and Widerberg, 2015). Among them, cities and their networks engaged in global environmental governance stand out. Transnational Municipal Networks (TMNs), entities facilitating the exchange of information and the coordination of local government actions across borders, have entered the global scene to enhance city action on a variety of urban issues. Increasingly perceived as important actors of environmental governance, TMNs have caught the interest of researchers from multiple disciplines since the early 2000s. Based on theories of multilevel governance (Betsill and Bulkeley, 2004; Kern and Bulkeley, 2009), these studies generally see TMNs as public, inclusive and self-governed institutions challenging traditional understandings of global divisions and power distributions (Andonova and Mitchell, 2010; Betsill and Bulkeley, 2006; Bulkeley and Newell, 2015; Busch, 2015; Gordon, 2013).
As the TMN population has gained visibility and importance, it seems to have become denser and more diverse (Acuto, 2016; Curtis, 2016; Davidson et al., 2019; Gordon, 2018). The purposes of some TMNs appear to be distinct. Promoting their current prominence, various climate-related TMNs appear to renegotiate their position in the global regime (Acuto, 2013). This discourse helps them justify additional support from public but also private actors such as philanthropic foundations, corporate entities, and NGOs. This trend is even more visible in recent TMNs dealing with environmental issues, where an important pattern of differentiation between them and traditional TMNs is that the former gives a more significant role to corporate practices and public-private partnerships (Haupt and Coppola, 2019). This article explores this contrast in the environmental TMN population and posits that we can observe the major differences between different types of TMN governance studying TMN composition of actors and membership terms guiding members towards certain environmental policies.
By exploring these two features, the article points to the rise of new-generation TMNs, through an exploratory study of 100 Resilient Cities (100RC), a TMN created in 2013 by the Rockefeller Foundation and fundamentally reorganised in 2019 into a much more informal version with a different name, and less funding and interference from the Rockefeller Foundation. 100RC was established with one core mission: increase city resilience worldwide (100RC, 2018). 100RC activities thus constantly referred to urban resilience, defined as “the capacity of individuals, communities, institutions, businesses and systems within a city to survive, adapt and grow no matter what kinds of chronic stresses and acute shocks they experience” (100RC, 2018). 100RC implicitly focused on numerous environmental concerns (e.g. floods, heat waves, or water shortage) and planning, an issue that doubtlessly relates to the environment. Drawing from a few existing studies of 100RC and other recent TMNs, we identify a strong influence of private actors, especially private foundations, a careful selection of members in line with the exclusivity of these networks, and the use of various enforcement mechanisms (Bellinson, 2018; Davidson et al., 2019; Papin, 2019; Tyler and Moench, 2012). These characteristics deviate from scholarly descriptions of networks as public, inclusive, and self-governed (that is, non-hierarchical, horizontal in their implementation of network goals and activities, and which actors enter and leave voluntarily), which usually define TMNs. This literature, which, for the most part, focuses on European and older TMNs, tends to extend its findings to more recent and global ones.
Observing distinct TMN features in the 100RC network, this article seeks to further the analysis of networked governance through the identification of features of new-generation TMNs belonging to a hybrid type of governance. It shows the need to integrate considerations regarding the composition of actors within TMNs, as well as their membership terms to better understand their contemporary nature. This article also offers an in-depth qualitative analysis of 100RC, a new-generation TMN well known for its city governance work, yet understudied. Providing insight into a global network, it expands our understanding of TMNs beyond the dominant Eurocentric bias of the current literature. While we highlight the possible implications of new TMN actor composition and membership terms, we do not tackle TMN membership outcomes. Indeed, 100RC’s recent character makes its effects still hard to perceive (Martín and McTarnaghan, 2018).
In the next section, we present the existing literature on TMNs and emphasise the Eurocentric multilevel governance prominence thereof. Using networked and multiactor governance perspectives might help us contemplate the variety of entities engaged in TMNs and their terms of membership, and thus picture TMNs more broadly. We then present an in-depth case study of 100RC based on 40 interviews, and an intensive documentary observation and analysis. We show new-generation TMNs represent a hybrid governance structure: 1) in which private actors play a significant role; 2) which is exclusive; 3) and which use both voluntary and constraining mechanisms. Before concluding on the implications of these new TMNs, we discuss the broader relevance of this case study for the understanding of a changing TMN landscape.
TMNs: One concept, many applications
The literature on TMNs originally focused on European TMNs, using multilevel governance theories to understand their attributes, functions, and impact. Later studies have often built on those works, ignoring their Eurocentric and historical dimensions.
Scholars broadly define TMNs as spaces that cities from two or more countries create or join to exchange on diverse urban issues (Bulkeley et al., 2003; Busch, 2015; Giest and Howlett, 2013). Highlighting their network characteristics, they depict TMNs as autonomous, polycentric and voluntary institutional arrangements in which lie principles of self-governance and self-execution (Kern and Bulkeley, 2009). Researchers thus emphasise the absence of a superior authority, the horizontality of relations and the self-organisation of networks (Andonova and Mitchell, 2010; Busch, 2015; Keiner and Kim, 2007). They also show that TMN membership is an independent and reversible decision of cities. In other words, the participation of cities is voluntary. Discussing climate-related city networks, some also mention their inclusiveness (Gore, 2010). The Cities for Climate Protection campaign (CCP) is a typical case of this characterisation. It transcends classical ideas of hierarchical top-down governance by creating an institutional space for local governments to report on climate action (Betsill and Bulkeley, 2006). The CCP bypasses states by letting cities take their own stance. Its governance structure has its own norms and rules for following network goals and establishing a common climate governance language.
To a large degree, this characterisation stems from the use of multilevel governance frameworks to analyse TMNs and their emergence in global environmental governance (Betsill and Bulkeley, 2004; Gordon, 2013; Gustavsson et al., 2009; Selin and VanDeveer, 2009). A multilevel perspective leads us to consider several levels of action and see how actors interact to steer a determined constituency and carry out public goods. It indicates that multiple non-state actors have taken on the authority and legitimacy that belonged exclusively to states (Bulkeley et al., 2003). The environment in which TMNs have emerged most resembles type-II multilevel governance, a framework that highlights the prominence of networks of both private and public entangled actors behaving more horizontally and non-hierarchically (Betsill and Bulkeley, 2006). 1
Scholars originally developed the multilevel governance concept to describe the European Union architecture (Hooghe and Marks, 2001, 2003; Jänicke, 2017). This context, which facilitates the decentralisation and deconcentration of power, has enabled the greater environmental activism of cities and consequently the emergence of collaborative initiatives such as TMNs (Giest and Howlett, 2013; Kern and Bulkeley, 2009; Labaeye and Sauer, 2013). The EU has also promoted TMNs to develop local action (Bulkeley et al., 2003). Analyses thus often see TMNs as a European multilevel governance by-product (Mocca, 2017).
Generalising the European context to other environments is problematic. European TMNs might have the aforementioned features because of the European multilevel governance context. Some European TMNs, e.g. Energy-Cities or Climate Alliance, work close to the European institutions and lobby to protect their members’ interests and make their voices heard by the EU (Kern and Bulkeley, 2009). Non-European TMNs might not be embedded in such strong regional structures. Although usually relevant, the multilevel governance concept might not be appropriate to analyse TMNs with a different geographical scope. Furthermore, the features described above might apply mostly to older TMNs, which are the ones the multilevel governance literature first studied. This might have generated a bias in the analysis of global and more recent TMNs. As global environmental governance evolved, differences in purposes and functioning might have arisen between recent TMNs and those created in the 1990s.
Overall, we must rethink how we define TMNs since global or newer ones might not resemble the European ones, which are also often the oldest TMNs. To highlight these differences, we present below a framework that considers the variety of actors and the terms of membership in TMNs. We posit that these two dimensions matter for nuancing our vision of the governance structures of the TMN population.
Analytical framework: Considering actor compositions and membership terms in networked governance
This article posits that the current TMN landscape increasingly reflects hybrid forms of governance compared to older European networks, on which most TMN definitions and typologies rely. In order to add these new aspects to our understanding, we develop an analytical framework based on two dimensions to which the literature has not paid enough attention: the composition of actors and the membership terms. By examining these dimensions, we seek to show how new-generation TMNs challenge our current understanding of TMNs. The influence of private foundations seems to go against the traditional understanding of TMNs as public and self-governed, that is non-hierarchical, horizontal in their implementation of network goals and activities, and which actors enter and leave voluntarily. The exclusiveness and use of enforcement mechanisms of new-generation TMNs challenge their inclusivity and self-governance. The latter specifically concerns the idea of cities voluntarily and independently joining networks and implementing network goals. By considering the complexity of these entities, we argue that most of them are hybrid in terms of both their composition of actors and their governance practices.
Composition of actors
Most scholars understand TMNs as networks made by cities, for cities. They see city members as paramount, and TMNs as less heterogeneous than other types of networks (Busch, 2015; Kern and Bulkeley, 2009). Consequently, and despite recognising both horizontal and non-hierarchical features of network governance, further analysis of the numerous partners with whom TMNs and their members collaborate is lacking. While we agree that local governments are central to new-generation TMNs, we contend that there are numerous types of actors involved with network activities, which deserve attention in an analysis of environmental TMNs. Networked and multiactor governance perspectives prove useful to consider these non-city actors.
In contrast to multilevel governance theories, networked governance approaches stress the significance of interactions among diverse actors (Reinecke et al., 2014). Besides, they avoid a Eurocentric bias. They show that networked governance includes in the management of global issues actors coming from civil society, government and market. TMNs appear to be a case of networked governance since they connect local actors to public, private, local and transnational partners (Lee, 2013). Gathering a variety of actors beyond member cities, they blur the traditional distinctions among public, private, national and international actors (Gordon, 2016a; 2016b).
Multiactor governance analyses are also relevant to analyse the TMN population. Attempting to systematically capture the nature of multiactor governance, Bulkeley and Newell (2015) depict transnational actors through three governance models. One represents the highly decentralised, public networks constituted of municipalities, widely portrayed in the literature. In this model, member cities govern the network. TMNs such as ICLEI belong to this category. ICLEI’s city programming, primarily funded by national governments, international donors and cities themselves, includes a wide array of partnerships. Any local entity worldwide can join ICLEI by paying a yearly membership fee. An executive committee and a council made of mayors from member cities formally govern the TMN. An opposite governance model is the private ideal type of TMN governance. Here, TMNs, as independent organisations, appear as partners or even sponsors or donors to member cities. The funding they give cities is tied to certain activities or outcomes. Foundations, private organisations or NGOs govern the programming. Member cities do not partake in the formal decision-making or agenda setting. An example of this model is the World Bank's Sustainable Cities project in Turkey (World Bank, 2019). By financing and steering this private programme, the World Bank aims to improve the capacity of municipal services in participating cities. This initiative has few or almost no horizontal and self-governed elements. Between these two ideal types exist various hybrid models. One example is C40, a TMN launched in 2005 (Acuto, 2013). C40 is funded by private foundations (i.e. Bloomberg Philanthropies, Realdania and the Children's Investment Fund Foundation), and has a board of directors chaired by Michael Bloomberg. The board sits underneath C40's steering committee chaired by a mayor from a member city. C40 thus reveals a hybrid model mixing public and private actors in its functioning. Where a network belongs on this continuum largely depends on the extent to which it is linked to private investments and partnerships.
To our knowledge, the few studies on TMNs using networked governance focus on member cities and often ignore the other actors participating as members, official partners, collaborators, or funders. Generally speaking, few studies analyse the role of the non-city actors participating in TMNs. The efforts of multiactor governance at underlining the implications of the involvement of private actors in networks are encouraging, but demand theoretical and empirical development. One could argue that the overarching division between public and private actors in itself is too simplistic. As the analysis will show, the variety of private actors participating in 100RC is in itself diverse and needs analytical attention. Nevertheless, a first step towards such an analysis is the recognition of the influence on TMN governance beyond city governments. We argue that Bulkeley and Newell’s framework provides a useful departure point for new discussions on multiactor dimensions of TMNs.
The analysis of the composition of actors implies a focus on the input side of TMN-led decision-making processes (Scharpf, 2003; Schmidt, 2013). We observe the actor composition of TMNs in specific areas, that is their funding (i.e. what type of funding is used for network activities and administration), governance body (i.e. of which actors the network's formal governance body is composed), and membership base (i.e. which actors are allowed membership). The strict focus on the actor composition of TMN-led decision-making procedures follows the tradition found in the older European literature on TMNs. This limits us from discussing questions of efficiency and output legitimacy for which the existing literature is often criticised (van der Heijden et al., 2019). However, it enables discussions of differences between old TMNs as portrayed in the literature and the features we identify in our study of 100RC.
Membership terms
Existing studies of TMNs tend to see the inclusive, and self-governed character of networks as fundamental features of TMN membership (Andonova and Mitchell, 2010; Busch, 2015; Gore, 2010; Keiner and Kim, 2007; Kern and Bulkeley, 2009). In our reading of the literature, these governance features are fundamentally about the membership terms and thus the type of access to the network, and the type of steering mechanisms governing members’ use and implementation of network offerings.
Bulkeley and Newell’s take on multiactor governance suggests that certain types of actor compositions are associated with certain types of conditions for membership. The authors link private governance models to a restricted and more exclusive membership base, and point to a more centralised governance style (2015: 81). In contrast, they associate the public model with inclusiveness. Likewise, Haupt and Coppola (2019) distinguish between exclusive elite networks open to few specific members, and inclusive mass networks, free for all to join. Other research, including the present study of 100RC, suggests that steering mechanisms may also be hybrid rather than exclusively voluntary. Some TMNs might use a mix of soft practices favoured by transnational actors, e.g. information sharing or capacity building (Hickmann, 2015), and harder governance tools, e.g. compulsory, rule-setting, or funding instruments, to orient their members (Green, 2017; Nielsen, 2019; Papin, 2019).
We thus complete our analytical framework with the study of membership terms. We look more specifically at two areas. The first relates to access to the network, or more specifically, what it takes to become a TMN member. It allows us to investigate who gets to become a network member and under which conditions. The second deals with network steering mechanisms, once a city is a member. It interrogates the ways in which TMNs orient the behaviour of their members towards network goals.
Methodology: Spotting the seemingly odd one out
The following 100 Resilient Cities (100RC) case study aims to illuminate possible features of TMNs. We analyse 100RC in the 2013–2019 period, when it was heavily sponsored by the Rockefeller Foundation, and prior to the network’s rebirth as ‘Global Resilient Cities Network’ in early 2020. As such, we selected 100RC as a seemingly controversial case in the TMN landscape (Yin, 2009). First, it radically differs from the literature’s characterisation of TMNs. Some might argue it was not a network, but a club (Dolšak and Prakash, 2017). Nevertheless, 100RC defined itself, at least partly, as a network, and built a network infrastructure for members as part of its organisational design. Besides, and in relation to the above, the literature on the 100RC initiative is only emerging. Because it appeared to be a distinct TMN, studying it might nuance the literature’s current understanding of TMNs. This is necessary to grasp their diversity. Using 100RC as a positive case might help us do so, although it will impede further generalisation.
The analysis presented below relies on three different types of data. First, we draw on 40 semi-structured interviews conducted between February 2017 and June 2019 with staff members of 100RC's, its member cities and its partners. Interviews were conducted as part of two different research projects that both address 100RC from a political science perspective. Questions regarded 100RC’s goals and mission, relationship with members and partners, and steering practices. The city staff members interviewed worked for Chennai (India), Mexico City (Mexico), Montreal (Canada), Porto Alegre (Brazil), Toronto (Canada) and Vejle (Denmark). They represent 100RC’s members in terms of geographical spread, size, environmental risk and socio-economic conditions. The overrepresentation of North American cities mirrors 100RC’s member composition. The political, economic, and geographical diversity allowed for a rather wide representation of actors’ opinions of 100RC.
Second, our data include an in-depth text analysis based on a variety of 100RC documents (e.g. member guides, preliminary resilience assessments, resilience strategies) and blog posts collected on 100RC and city members’ websites. Texts were coded through an open process by pooling exacts concerning similar topics while designing themes and conceptualisations.
Third, the data involve a documentary observation based on a review of the 2018 members and the 2016 to 2018 partners of 15 environmental TMNs, and of these TMNs’ governance tools created between their launch and 2018. All this data were gathered by scanning their current websites as well as former versions of those, using the Internet Archive platform (Internet Archive, 2019). The governance tools were analysed according to the presence or absence of specific governance characteristics (i.e. rule-setting, funding, direct action, norm-setting, capacity building, information sharing, obligation, commitment, and directness). The 15 environmental TMNs were selected because they were formalised (having a staff and a website), had one or more European cities, and were active at the time of data collection. This gives us a fine representation of current environmental TMNs.
Together, the data capture the composition of actors and the membership terms, thus helping us understand how 100RC’s governance model may differ from other TMNs’. The next section presents the 100 Resilient Cities initiative and analyses its governance model.
100 Resilient Cities, a new-generation TMN with hybrid governance features
To show how 100RC differs from European TMNs created in the 1990s, we first analyse 100RC's formal actor composition, looking at the source of funding, the formal 100RC governance body as well as the membership base. Then, we study 100RC’s membership terms by looking at access criteria and steering mechanisms. This enables us to understand its governance model and further discuss the type of networks that 100RC exemplified.
100RC’s actor composition: Funding, formal governance body and membership base
Identifying the composition of actors working with 100RC is crucial to understand how the network is structured and whose decisions guide it. The variety of public and private actors in 100RC shows that we cannot see this TMN as a network of local governments for local governments. Its hybrid actor composition affects decision-making procedures and power dynamics among the network’s actors as argued in the analytical framework.
Formally, 100RC was an independent organisation. However, in practice, the Rockefeller Foundation funded the TMN, set its general direction and maintained strong ties to it. Documentary observation on other TMNs shows that 100RC is a relatively well-funded initiative. The Rockefeller Foundation hired the 100RC president, who led the TMN’s secretariat. He also co-signed the MoU made with member cities when these joined 100RC. Five regional 100RC offices carried out the network's daily management, including most contacts with members. The 100RC City Leader Advisory Committee, created in 2017, supported the TMN in identifying key issues to building urban resilience. The committee had 11 members, who were mayors or chief executives of 100RC cities. Founded to shape the ‘resilient movement’, the committee officially met annually to advise the network without formal decision-making power.
The 100RC governance body thus did not directly represent member cities. A 100RC regional office director interviewee defined 100RC as an implementation network where “we try and help cities change in the way they operate. Make them better equipped to deal with challenges they identify” (Interview, 100RC Regional Director, March 2018). This contrasts with the many ‘political’ TMNs that work on representing cities in the international sphere. 100RC aspired to change how a city operates. The interviewee did not see the role of 100RC as one of creating political content but as one of providing tools to help cities build certain policies. This implementation goal of altering city operations was designed around two core governance tools with which 100RC provided each member city to help them build resilience.
The first tool was a structured methodology involving planning for advancing resilience. Every new member city was enrolled in an intensive resilience programme. 100RC offered management frameworks and pre-designed processes to facilitate resilience building in member cities. It incentivised cities to cooperate by disseminating their knowledge, sharing best practices, and showcasing potential solutions. However, for 100RC, this required a clear understanding of the issues and a common language in which to deliberate. Consequently, the second tool became important.
The second tool was the inclusion of diverse stakeholders to facilitate partnerships able to guide and manage the development of a resilience strategy. According to interviews with 100RC and city member staff conducted from March to May 2017, in practice, this included consultancy services, stakeholder activities and a Platform of Partners. Conventional consultants (e.g. Arup), experts from other TMNs (e.g. ICLEI), international organisations (or OIs, e.g. World Bank) or universities offered these consultancy services. They were thus not always private. Stakeholder activities included workshops, seminars or informal meetings and conversations with city-based representatives from both the corporate sector and civil society. Members had to develop a specific ‘plan’ to include stakeholder perspectives in their resilience planning (Interview, Porto Alegre staff, October 2018). 2 Furthermore, they received technical and strategic guidance from Platform partners. The Platform of Partners consisted of above 100 private companies, universities, IOs, private foundations, and NGOs offering their expertise to help cities design and implement resilience projects as part of the programme (100RC, 2019).
Figure 1, based on documentary observation, maps 2016–18 100RC’s members and partners. It points to significant diversity regarding both the types of actors involved and the issues they tackle. Along with some public actors, 100RC partners included many private actors. Among these private sector partners, some were corporate (e.g. Swiss Re or Nissan), while others were research institutes (e.g. U.C. Berkeley) or NGOs (e.g. WWF). Other partners were global partnerships including private and public actors (e.g. Cities Alliance). Not all 100RC partners played an equal part. As interviews revealed, some Platform partners had few interactions with 100RC, whereas most Strategy partners, among which AECOM and Arup, had a strong relationship with the TMN:

The diverse 100RC members and partners – Shapes represent the distinct issues tackled by the partners (circles are urban issues, rectangles sustainability, spheres resilience, and square other issues) and colours the distinct types of actors of the network (public actors in white, non-profit actors in grey, and business actors in black).
So [Strategy partners] do have a very close relation, there’s, you know, a few people in the staff with their jobs dedicated to the managing of the kind of the Strategy Partners. They’re brought in to, you know, to sometimes consult on thinking big, about the future of the organisation, and urban resilience, so they’re definitely partners in that way. (Interview, 100RC partner, August 2017)
The above comments suggest that the private Rockefeller Foundation directly steered 100RC on the ground of decisions made with 100RC and partners. 100RC did not have a ‘political track’ (Acuto, 2013) like other TMNs, e.g. C40, ICLEI and Eurocities, where mayors set the network's direction. Not all processes and tools were pre-designed: some bottom-up and ad hoc initiatives emerged, according to interviews with 100RC and city member staff led between 2017 and 2019. However, 100RC tied most of the funding it granted members to pre-elaborated governance tools. It was thus far less self-governed than other TMNs. Its governance body was directly tied to 100RC, and indirectly the Rockefeller Foundation. Besides, notwithstanding the official local government member base, the TMN was far more hybrid than the TMNs usually portrayed in the literature. 100RC, Strategy partners, and Platform partners had prominent roles in executing network goals, which also included creating innovative partnerships across traditional sectoral divides. The private foundation influence and the centralised formulated network tools respectively question the TMN public actor composition and self-governance attributes that the TMN literature often depicts.
100RC’s membership terms
Following the actor composition analysis, we look at 100RC membership terms in two areas, i.e. what it took to become a 100RC member, and how 100RC steered its members towards achieving the network’s goals.
Becoming a member
The 100RC membership was not open. 100RC ultimately chose who got in. After its launch, 100RC announced a call for membership application over three rounds through the 100 Resilient Cities Challenge. A first group of thirty-two cities was accepted in 2013, a second group of thirty-five cities in 2014 and a third group of thirty-seven cities in 2016 (100RC, 2018). 3
Officially, a panel consisting of 100RC and its partners and stakeholders evaluated about 1,000 applications, using predetermined criteria that assessed cities’ commitment to the resilience agenda. These included a strong political commitment, the ability to build partnerships with many public and private stakeholders, as well as some experience with ‘shocks and stresses’ (100RC, 2018). Cities’ resilience goals were also important. A City of Toronto interviewee explained that 100RC probably first did not select their application because it focused too much on climate adaptation. After 100RC staff gave the city advice on how to improve it, Toronto became a member in 2016 (Interview, Toronto staff member, August 2017). It seems fair to assume that 100RC did not consult with each of the 900 rejected applicants over how to improve their application and that they had a special interest in seeing Toronto join. It appears that the selection process contained additional criteria, particularly when the programme started. Vejle interviewees believed 100RC selected their city because it was an ‘easy case’ that could quickly be showcased, thus implying that 100RC also considered non-official criteria in the selection (Interviews, Vejle politicians and staff members, March to May 2017). 100RC seems to have acted strategically to help certain cities become members. Ultimately, 100RC accepted cities with very diverse profiles, e.g. usual suspects present in various other TMNs such as Paris, London and New York City, but also smaller and more unexpected members such as Cali, Vejle and Kigali (see Figure 1).
100RC was voluntary since cities were free to apply for membership and leave the programme whenever they wanted. However, the entry cost to win the challenge and become a member was high. Firstly, members needed administrative resources to fill out the application and, if successful, integrate the resilience programme to their administrative structure, as 100RC expected. Secondly, membership required strong political commitment. Local political leaders needed to show engagement to the initiative and sign a MoU. Thirdly, it implied an indirect financial commitment through human resources and the funding of resilience projects. The 5% pledge governance tool, where cities ‘pledged’ five percent of their local government budgets towards implementing resilience initiatives, emphasised this commitment later in the programme. The 100RC membership thus was not open and inclusive, but restricted and exclusive, contrary to how networks are usually depicted.
The 100RC membership allowed access to a range of material resources directly linked to 100RC’s two main resilience building practices, i.e. a structured methodology and the inclusion of stakeholders and partners. When becoming members, cities entered a two- or three-year programme designed to help them act on the resilience agenda (100RC, 2018). To complete the resilience programme, cities received direct funding to hire a Chief Resilience Officer (CRO), in charge of the resilience agenda. 100RC emphasised the fact that members got funding according to the local cost of filling the CRO position. The average support was estimated at US$1 million per city. In Vejle and Chennai, the money covered the CRO’s salary and some resilience events and activities for three years. In Porto Alegre and Mexico City, funds were big enough to cover two positions in the city government (Interviews, Mexico City and Porto Alegre staff members, February 2017 and May 2018). The CRO then had to carry out the 100RC methodology with clear phases and planning principles over the course of two to three years culminating with the release of a political resilience strategy. Interviews revealed that each city received technical and strategic guidance from both 100RC partners and staff.
All these resources were exclusive to the 100RC members. Unsurprisingly, interviews indicated that access to these resources largely explains why cities originally applied for membership. Receiving funding, consultancy services and a broad and knowledgeable network of peers was attractive for cities struggling with tight budgets.
In addition, the 100RC membership included non-material resources in terms of branding and dedication to certain norms. A politician in Vejle’s city council appeared proud to participate in a well-respected programme to which the capital of Denmark did not get access (Interviews, Vejle politicians and staff members, March to May 2017). Chennai and Mexico City interviewees welcomed the Rockefeller Foundation brand, which might help them attract other stakeholders and funding (Interviews with Mexico City staff members and Chennai Cooperation staff member, February 2017 to July 2018). Members enjoyed greater recognition and reputation for being collaborating and associated with a worldwide renowned philanthropic organisation. The careful selection process, and the restricted membership base made the network even more attractive to both existing members and outsiders willing to become members (Interview, 100RC staff member, June 2018).
100RC offered the same resources to all member cities: funding for a CRO, access to consultancy services, and a methodology to increase urban resilience. Interviews usually emphasised collaboration when describing 100RC’s relationship to member cities. Yet, they also revealed that access to resources was sometimes unequal. To support reconstruction efforts and long-term commitment to the resilience agenda, Mexico City thus managed to negotiate US$750,000 of extra funding in the wake of the 2017 Central Mexican earthquake (Interview, Mexico City staff member, July 2018). Another example is the Resilience Accelerator, a 100RC-Columbia University partnership helping cities accelerate their resilience building work, which selected five cities in Miami-Dade County to pilot the project. 100RC carried out many similar projects and urban resilience experiments with selected members. The City Leader Advisory Committee mentioned above followed the same logic. Although it might have benefitted the entire network, it was led by certain cities only. 100RC and the Rockefeller Foundation sometimes also organised informal and exclusive events to which they only invited certain city member mayors (Interview, 100RC partner staff member, August 2017). Our data do not indicate competition among member cities, yet those were resources to which members had unequal access. This might suggest the existence of an inner pioneer network: the cities that managed to attract more resources and funding were cities with the capacity to adopt pilot projects, or that showed commitment and visible results (Interview, Mexico City staff member, July 2018).
100RC’s steering mechanisms: Between self-governance and benign enforcement
While the literature on TMNs highlights the self-governance and self-execution features of networks, 100RC staff considered the setting of membership standards fundamental for effectiveness. They saw resilience as best implemented through a dedicated methodology and planning process with some flexibility allowing for local particularities. Consequently, the TMN created several tools and mechanisms that strengthened the membership benefits. Hiring a CRO, using a methodology, and developing a resilience strategy were part of members’ obligations. As interviewees explained, members officially hired their CRO themselves. However, 100RC closely observed the process (Interview, 100RC staff member, April 2018). For the 100RC President, “we can’t run our cities without a CRO”. 4 100RC sought to ensure that the right person was hired to ensure progress in cities. As explained above, 100RC also offered a methodology leading to the development of the resilience strategy under flexible conditions. The officially named City Resilience Framework methodology was a very specific approach to developing a resilience strategy. A private consultancy, Arup, designed it to map out and understand the vulnerabilities and potentials of urban systems (100RC, 2018). Cities found the methodology generally helpful, but also rigid and unnecessarily time-consuming sometimes (Interview, Montreal staff members, March 2017). The tool might have been overly bureaucratic and extensive (Interviews, Vejle staff members, June 2017 and June 2018). In addition, throughout the monitoring process associated with the methodology, cities needed to comply with various reporting and evaluation standards by filling out formulas and spreadsheets.
Furthermore, 100RC seemed to steer its members towards certain standards through the threat of exclusion from the programme. Although instances are quite rare, the example of Alameda, United States, shows a member being sanctioned for not complying with the 100RC membership standards. After being accepted in the network, the city wanted to hire a CRO that did not fit the profile 100RC envisioned. After some unsuccessful exchanges, 100RC eventually decided to end Alameda’s membership (Ellson, 2014). Accordingly, membership exclusion was a sanction mechanism that might have motivated cities to follow the rules and norms in place. Interviews did not directly show the existence of enforcement mechanisms. 100RC displayed neither the possibility of expulsion nor the existence of sanctions or constraining processes. However, interviews showed that not complying with the standard might have made it hard for a city to keep participating in the initiative. When asked about the consequences for a city that would not follow the 100RC methodology to draw a resilience strategy, a 100RC staff member interviewee answered: “It’s just that, to be in our programme, you need to produce a resilience strategy and if you no longer want to produce a resilience strategy, then it probably doesn’t make sense that you’re part of our programme” (Interview, 100RC staff member, February 2019).
These enforcement mechanisms enabled 100RC to offer reputational benefits linked to its creation of public goods. They indeed guaranteed that members would actively seek urban resilience. Thanks to these reputational benefits, members were considered resilient cities as soon as they joined, because of the highly selective process, and further on, because they were believed to comply. Therefore, the standard enforcement tools ensured that cities would follow the path towards urban resilience, as understood by its two major advocates, 100RC and the Rockefeller Foundation.
Discussion: A generational change in the TMN population
Looking at the actor composition and the membership terms of 100RC reveals that this TMN might have been practicing a distinct type of networked governance, i.e. neither public nor private, but hybrid. It is important to note that TMNs are not made only of cities, as data collected for this research on other TMNs suggest. All have a variety of official partners, going from less than 10 to more than 150. Some offer their technical expertise while others participate in the funding of TMN projects or functioning. Yet, in some cases, these partners may partake in the design of TMN governance tools and activities.
The 100RC case study indicates a greater variety and involvement of partners in 100RC. The case study highlights the role of the Rockefeller Foundation in the founding, mission, and funding of 100RC. Our research on other TMNs reveals that 100RC is a TMN with a budget well above average. The Foundation’s announcement to end its funding in April 2019 led to the collapsing of the TMN into a Rockefeller Foundation internal initiative (Rockefeller Foundation, 2019). Furthermore, although it had 100 city members, 100RC also had the support of more than 100 partners (100RC, 2019).
Furthermore, 100RC built on a different governance set-up with an almost private governance dimension, where corporate and other private actors funded, framed and steered network activities. It closely monitored membership, and exclusion was a very real possibility if members did not follow the rules. In that sense, 100RC resembled a club, since it both created excludable goods and made sure its public goods offered reputational benefits through enforcement mechanisms (Buchanan, 1965; Green, 2017). This case thus visibly departs from the literature’s traditional TMN depiction in both the composition of actors and the terms set for members.
The 100RC case might seem controversial, yet it is not unique. We argue that 100RC contrasted with European older TMNs, but resembled other global, more recent TMNs. Our data indeed show differences in terms of actor composition and membership terms between TMNs like ICLEI, Climate Alliance or Union of the Baltic Cities, and TMNs such as C40, 100RC or CNCA. While the former resembles the public, inclusive, and self-governed description of most of the TMN literature, the latter is much more hybrid in character. They see a large influence of diverse private actors, are exclusive, and use both voluntary and constraining steering mechanisms.
Some studies have started to point to the role of private actors such as donors and philanthropic organisations in recent TMNs such as C40 (Acuto and Ghojeh, 2019; Gordon and Johnson, 2019; Smeds, 2019). Our own research on 15 TMNs suggests that Michael Bloomberg largely influences the C40 (created in 2005), through the funding offered by Bloomberg Philanthropies, and the chairing of the C40 Board. Considering these actors more systematically in TMN studies is important, especially in research on recent global TMNs. The 100RC case suggests that these partners might influence the formulation and implementation of urban climate politics. Similar trends seem to appear in the C40, CNCA, and Champion Mayors initiatives.
Furthermore, our data suggest different trends regarding the practices of recent TMNs. For instance, the exclusiveness of 100RC seems to mirror that of other TMNs, e.g. C40 or CNCA. Besides recurring to traditional practices, recent TMNs such as C40, 100RC, and CNCA, also seem to give more importance to the elaboration of membership terms, compulsory or not, than older TMNs. Compulsory measures seem to be more common among recent TMNs such as C40, CoM, 5 and 100RC. Finally, 100RC and CNCA also tend to use more funding mechanisms than the other TMNs studied. These functions are visibly in line with a command-and-control approach that partly contradicts the soft approach scholars seem to grant TMNs and transnational actors in general (Andonova et al., 2009; Hickmann, 2015). 6 Recent TMNs might see standard-setting and compulsory measures as a necessary step to reach their goals. Whether this is a consequence of a hybrid actor composition is unclear from our study. This is nevertheless a point that future research should consider more carefully.
This does not mean that recent TMNs are directly going back to older practices of governance and stepping away from their public, inclusive and self-governing nature. As the case study illustrates, 100RC’s constraining forms of governance completed voluntary mechanisms. Regarding the selectiveness of recent TMNs, it seems that C40, CNCA and 100RC are leaning towards elite-club approaches, whereas the Global Covenant of Mayors or the food security focused Milan Food Urban Policy Pact, seek to attract as many members or signatories as possible. In their governance practices as well as in their composition of actors, recent TMNs are therefore hybrid.
Overall, the analysis of TMN actor composition and membership terms points to three important characteristics of recent global TMNs. One is the influence of diverse private actors, especially philanthropic foundations, which might have consequences on their functioning, goals and effects. The second attribute of global and recent TMNs lies in their exclusivity. These TMNs accept cities according to multi-criterion processes, in some cases by invitation only or through a competition. The third characteristic of these TMNs is related to their use of various types of enforcement mechanisms to ensure network goal compliance. We consider these elements to be features of what we coin new-generation TMNs. These TMNs contrast widely with older TMNs, such as the aforementioned ICLEI, Union of Baltic Cities, or Climate Alliance, which rely more on membership fees and public actors, have cities steer the network to a much greater extent, and have few enforcement practices.
The differences between old and new-generation TMNs that we portray here are ideal types. We can thus imagine some old TMNs developing hybrid and private forms of governance as well as new public TMNs emerging. Likewise, documentary observation shows that some recent TMNs, such as the Global Compact Cities Programme, use constraining steering mechanisms and have diverse partners, but remain inclusive. The recent OECD Champion Mayors for Inclusive Growth Initiative currently includes 59 leading cities and a variety of private actors such as the Ford Foundation or Brookings Institution. Its steering mechanisms nonetheless require more investigation to see if they fit the new-generation TMNs characteristic. Considering this diversity is crucial to a better understanding of the role of TMNs in global environmental governance. This single case study offers a step in that direction, although its positive nature implies the need for wider analyses.
Conclusion
In this article, we have investigated the plurality of TMN governance types. We argue that scholars and practitioners should avoid systematically treating recent TMNs as public, voluntary and self-governed. Research questions based on these assumptions risk overseeing crucial elements about these entities and their interests. We identify a new generation of TMNs and argue that they differ from traditional TMNs as portrayed in the existing literature. Two important dimensions help us perceive these differences. First, the actor composition is distinct from the one portrayed in the older Eurocentric literature on TMNs. Diverse types of public and private actors engage actively in funding, policy formulation, and implementation activities. Second, membership terms reflect the use of exclusive selection processes and enforcement mechanisms in addition to voluntary actions. This leads us to argue that new-generation TMNs represent a form of hybrid governance.
New-generation TMNs challenge the position of authority and power portrayed in the network literature. In 100RC, authority was neither horizontally distributed among members nor self-governed. Hybrid and private aspects of TMN governance points to new and difficult questions about who governs a TMN and how this governance is carried out. The case study showed that 100RC staff had an instrumental understanding of politics interpreting their technical or methodological assistance as apolitical (e.g. providing methodology and partners to assess urban resilience). Yet, 100RC tools were embedded in a wide range of political assumptions on what resilience is and how we should act on it. This understanding risks depoliticising inherent political struggles regarding what constitutes a resilient city, but also creating an unnoticed arena shift (Flinders and Buller, 2006), where politics is negotiated by unelected actors. Acknowledging the hybrid governance of 100RC gives us foundations for analysing and assessing this risk.
To some degree, however, 100RC does look like a public governance model. Indeed, cities partly self-govern, and self-execute the collective decisions, using and adjusting 100RC tools. They are free to leave since there is no contract legally binding them to 100RC. They also partake in decentralised sub-projects, and events with deliberation and networking purposes. Cities are thus not helpless receivers of a powerful foundation donation. They strategically navigate and negotiate their membership. The public network framework thus remains useful to analyse new-generation TMNs, albeit combined with a greater sensitivity towards more hybrid and private governance models focusing on markets and private-public partnerships.
Many questions arise when we broaden the scope of our understanding of TMN governance. In this article, we collapsed public and private actors into singular categories to embark on a larger discussion on the actors involved in governing TMNs. As reflected in the analysis, research should pay further attention to different types of private and public actors, their interest and success in pushing forward urban environmental agendas. Philanthropic foundations, global consultancies and private utility companies are all different types of private actors, which seem to play important roles in the governing of environmental TMNs. There are strategic interests at stake, often focused on selected groups of cities, of which several are members of more than one traditional or new-generation TMN. We need to approach the question with greater sensitivity towards the actors involved and conduct more comparative studies to fully understand the consequences of the hybridity that we identify.
Another important question that arises from this study is whether new-generation TMNs lead to greater effectiveness. TMNs have different purposes and different effects. Some, such as ICLEI, primarily seek to protect the interests of cities. Others, like 100RC, engage in the implementation of urban resilience solutions. Constraining steering mechanisms might help 100RC achieve its goals. In relation to the effects of TMNs, some research has started to look at questions of output legitimacy and accountability of transnational actors (Bäckstrand, 2008; Bäckstrand and Kuyper, 2017). Further efforts, looking at new-generation TMNs, should be deployed.
Finally, the changes that 100RC has been going through at the time of writing this article should spark research on the temporality and evolution of TMNs (see Acuto et al., 2017 for a similar reflection). While separate, 100RC and the Rockefeller Foundation had very strong links. As such, the Rockefeller Foundation ending its funding to the initiative in 2019 conveyed the termination of 100RC as we knew it. Nevertheless, we should note the emergence of an informal network structure from former 100RC cities, which received a grant from the Rockefeller Foundation (100RC, 2020). The Global Resilient Cities Network (GRCN) has so far appeared active on social media, organising virtual COVID-19 crisis knowledge sharing sessions, and promoting other resilience-related initiatives. 7
Our exploration of 100RC is only a first step towards understanding recent changes in the TMN population and is not a basis for generalisations about TMNs as a phenomenon. It is an attempt to point to tendencies that have been overlooked in the literature and to nuance emerging TMN configurations. Overall, distinguishing new-generation TMNs from older TMNs and acknowledging their diversity proves to be a promising work for scholars of transnational environmental governance, urban political ecology, and for all researchers interested in the role of city actors in global governance.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
We are very grateful to the three EPC anonymous reviewers, Jens Hoff, José Manuel Leal, Milja Heikkinen and the participants from the 2019 ECPR joint sessions on Networked Environmental Governance for their precious comments. We also thank Jacob Fortier who helped collect some of the data for this article.
The authors participated equally in the elaboration and writing of this article.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article: Marielle Papin received funding from the Fonds de Recherche du Québec-Société et Culture (Grant number 2019-B2Z-255350).
