On the surface, the three stories appear to be divergent. On the one hand, two authors present narratives of nineteenth-century sewer construction in two of the world’s largest cities—while the other is a tale of a recent project. Yet, the stories are intertwined by the establishment of contemporary civil engineering practices, the growth of the project management discipline, convoluted intergovernmental relationships, and windows of opportunity that give salience to the projects.

The books are written from different perspectives. Fetherston’s work is written from the perspective of a journalist. Goldman brings a historian’s. Halliday’s work brings the London sewer project to life through the biography of Sir Joseph Bazalgette, Chief. Engineer of London’s Metropolitan Board of Works.

This review is constructed in three sections. The first section discusses Goldman and Halliday’s books on the nineteenth-century projects. The second section gives a review of Fetherston’s study of construction of the English Channel Tunnel. The final section compares the three books.

Nineteenth-Century Sewer Projects

Goldman and Halliday graphically show the importance of a common twentieth-century phenomenon—available drinking water. In the nineteenth century, development of water systems that would bring potable water to the neighborhoods was a critical political, social, and medical issue. Of related importance was development of sanitary sewer systems that would provide uncontaminated drinking water by separating water from sewage. The tales of water and sewer system development in New York and London are remarkably similar. In order for modern water and sewer systems to develop, several items had to converge: a critical mass of population, the epidemiological knowledge of disease transmission, the technological development of water closets, the institutionalization of emerging professions, and the growth of professional government.

Four professions crucial to the development of water/sewer systems emerged and merged during the mid-nineteenth century: public health, civil engineering, project management, and public works management. These four professions developed well-respected lobbies that ultimately pressured powerful local, state, or national governments into moving control of public health and public works projects from the political arena to the professional arena. Some of these professions used similar tactics over a century later in developing the Chunnel project.

The London Story

“The Great Stink” occurred during the unseasonably hot summer of 1858, and the stench of the polluted Thames River drove members of Parliament from the chambers of the House of Commons. Contributing to the fear of members of Parliament and the rest of London was the “miasmic” theory of disease transmission, the medical theory of the day. It held that health, both good and bad, was caused by the inhalation of properties of the air. Accordingly, people believed that breathing the stench could lead to outbreaks of typhoid or cholera. Although the typhoid bacillus was discovered in the 1880s, miasmic theory persisted until the twentieth century. Cholera outbreaks occurred in London with regular frequency, claiming 6,536 lives in 1831–32; 14,137 in 1849–50; and 10,738 in 1853–54. Thus, the torrid summer of 1858 became a catalyst for sewage reform.

Halliday documents the history of waste disposal that led to the polluted state of the Thames in 1858. This pollution had several causes: the rapid growth of London’s population and overcrowding in slum neighborhoods after 1800, poor workmanship of sewer construction in those areas that had sewers, deep and overflowing household cesspools that contaminated neighborhood water supplies, the development of the water closet, and the tidal characteristic of the Thames River.

The Sanitary Movement did not begin with Joseph Bazalgette (1819–91). He, however, was in the right spot at the right time to effect important changes in sanitation. Bazalgette was the chief engineer to the Metropolitan Board of Works, London’s first Metropolitan government, a post he held for 33 years. He earned his engineering credentials in the time-honored British fashion, through an on-the-job training apprenticeship. His early professional years were spent on land drainage and reclamation works. His work as a consultant was legend; he wrote over 100 papers for the Institution of Civil Engineers, most of which focused on sewage treatment or land reclamation. In 1884, he became president of the institution. The London sewer system, his magnum opus, encompassed 1,200 miles of sewers of which 1,100 miles were constructed under his tutorage. Bazalgette constructed the Victoria, Chelsea, and Albert embankments on the Thames River. The embankments were originally designed as part of the sewer system, but were ultimately much more extensive. They reclaimed river bottom on which were built roads, walkways, parks, and tunnels used for London’s water, gas, electric, and underground rail system. Bazalgette also fostered the civil engineering profession by mentoring young engineers, and daring to be innovative in civil engineering projects. He was instrumental in defining modern municipal management.

Halliday reviews London’s sanitation history. Through most of London’s history the water supply flowed through pipes originally laid by the Romans. The growth in London’s population (reaching 1 million by 1810 and 4.25 million by 1891) put a strain on water resources and sewage removal. In addition, the sewers that existed prior to Bazalgette’s comprehensive sewer system were often poorly constructed, unconnected, and uncoordinated by the city. Because of the high cost of cleaning them, cesspools often overflowed into homes and neighborhoods and created public nuisances and health concerns.

In 1860, water closets came on the scene and proved very popular as a replacement for outhouses and chamber pots. The water they flushed put further strains on drainage, particularly when they emptied into cesspools. Average daily household use of water rose from 160 gallons in 1850 to 244 in 1856 overburdening existing drainage systems.

The problem with sewage in the Thames was partly geologic. A free flowing river might have cleansed itself; however, since the Thames is a tidal river, it ebbs and flows with the tide. The sewage never completely emptied; thus, the offal festered, churned, and accumulated in the river. Add the heat of the summer of 1858, and a crisis brewed.

A comprehensive metropolitan sewer system had long been discussed. In 1853, the Royal Commission of the Corporation of the City of London recommended the creation of a Metropolitan Board of Works. Parliament created the Metropolitan Board of Works and used the 1851 census to define London as a statistical area encompassing 36 metropolitan registration districts. The powers granted to the board were limited by Parliamentary oversight. The “great stink,” however, was the catalyst for new legislation in 1858, giving the Metropolitan Board new authority. Those powers were sweeping. Bazalgette had the power to construct a new system of drainage for metropolitan London. Perhaps more importantly, he was also given taxing authority and the power to borrow £3 million to complete his sewer system. Bazalgette’s plan included sanitary and storm sewers, pumping stations, and outfall works throughout the entire metropolitan area.

In addition, the use of new materials helped Bazalgette with tunnel design. Portland cement had been patented in 1824, but (because engineers thought it unreliable) it had never been used in a large project. Numerous reliability experiments conducted during the mid-nineteenth century elevated Portland cement to the “industry standard” by 1860. Bazalgette figured prominently in the product’s adoption. His caution in accepting the material contributed to rigorous testing procedures that became a standard for quality control. Once satisfied of the cement’s durability, he was one of the first to adopt its use.

Goldman identifies the characteristics that establish professional identity—technical expertise, exchange of information, shared concerns, common problems, establishment of credentials, a desire to institutionalize, and public support for the profession’s role in public policy making. These characteristics were evident with Bazalgette’s civil engineers, but were also evident in public health officials, another fledgling professional group interested in clean water. Some physicians noted a rise in disease as a result of the use of water closets as early public health statisticians tracked the incidence of disease to polluted areas. Sewer construction commenced in the early 1860s. An indicator of Bazalgette’s success is that, while London had no cholera or typhoid epidemics after 1866, they continued to occur throughout the late nineteenth century in other large cities.

Fortunately for Bazalgette, several items converged during his project that made a comprehensive sewer system possible. The growth of the civil engineering and public health professions gave unbiased support for the sewer system. The use of professionals in sanitation led to the growth of other professions and their use as experts in the governmental process. In addition, the establishment of the principles of project management made large projects—such as, railroads, canals, and sewers—manageable. These practices, commonplace today, included permanent work forces by contractors, competitive bidding, and contracts that included plans and specifications for labor and materials. The use of new materials, particularly Portland cement, allowed construction of the embankments honeycombed with transportation, utility, and sewage tunnels bounded by a forceful tidal river. Parliament’s move to provide a strong, centralized public works agency gave Bazalgette the power to complete their project.

The New York Story

The similarities between the stories of London and New York are striking. Both cities grew rapidly during the nineteenth century, became the largest cities in their countries, were located on bodies of water that were seen as convenient depositories of waste material, had tried uncoordinated and intermittent privately financed sewer construction, and had complicated relationships with central governments. As with the London sewer story, the four professions of public health, civil engineering, project management, and public works management dominated the movement toward professional government in New York City. In addition, both cities saw the growth of professionalism of the departments of public works headed by charismatic professional trailblazers.

While New York was small, outbreaks of disease were rare and contained. However, the sheer magnitude of a rapidly growing population outpaced health and safety infrastructures. In New York, health and safety concerns were not limited to waterborne diseases. New York had a history of fires and epidemics that contributed to social unrest. The situation was highly politicized involving both state and local politicians. The contention over water and patronage scandals led the state to rewrite the city charter in 1849, 1853, and 1857. The Charter of 1857 was pivotal. It created regional rather than municipal jurisdictions and eventually established a metropolitan fire department, police department, board of health, and public works department.

The autonomy of these departments “reflected a new perception: New York City’s problems required complex solutions that called for technical expertise ...In this light, the mid-century call for engineers and physicians to manage sanitary policy suggests public recognition of their professional status” (Goldman, 144). However, another factor might be equally as important. By regionalizing these departments, the state legislature could usurp some of the power of the New York City Common Council. This removal of many public services from the influence of city politics was the result of a decades-long crusade of interest groups desiring a reform of city management.

As with London, the critical need for potable water was the catalyst for the first projects; however, officials at the Croton Aqueduct Department long realized the need for a comprehensive sewer system. This department managed a system of aqueducts that brought a clean water supply from the hinterlands to the city. The aqueduct was constructed by John Jervis (1795–1885) in 1830. Jervis, chief engineer of the Croton Aqueduct, was trained, as were most civil engineers of his day, as an apprentice on the Erie Canal and in railroad construction. Jervis instituted the elements of project management with the aqueduct project, creating a defined management hierarchy to oversee the project.

However, New York had no coordinated sewer system to drain away excess water and sewage. The city was filled with small, uncoordinated sewer systems that failed to connect with any other system. These sewers were generally privately constructed at the homeowners’ expense; thus, they were primarily found in affluent neighborhoods. The city financed, managed, and let contracts for private sewer projects, giving lucrative contracts to political cronies. In addition, because the sanitary sewers were not constructed following uniform standards, they could not be connected to other sewers. They did not empty into any central pumping station, but ended in streams and other city neighborhoods. In some cases, much of the waste discharged into rivers between the piers inhibiting the passage of seagoing vessels. As in London, the river waste stagnated and stayed close to shore. A later chief engineer of the Croton Aqueduct Department, Alfred Craven, lobbied for a comprehensive sewer system.

Control of the Aqueduct Department was a constant struggle between the city and the state. New York state and local politics were more complicated than in the London story, fraught with party differences, city corruption, and cronyism. In particular, city politicians wanted to allocate positions in the Croton Aqueduct Department as spoils to political cronies. Public works officials wanted to depoliticize the agency by allocating department jobs to engineers and other professionals. Craven’s window of opportunity opened in 1865 when a cholera epidemic in Europe terrified New Yorkers. The state responded to the crisis by giving the Croton Aqueduct Department the power to construct and coordinate a system of sewage and drainage and authorizing the city comptroller to allocate all funds requested by the department.

The state legislature also passed new city charters in 1870 and 1873. William Tweed, a New York State senator from the city, crafted the 1870 charter. This charter established a department of public works and gave its commissioner extensive influence over policy and finances. Not surprisingly, Tweed became the commissioner of the Department of Public Works in 1870. Management and resources were controlled by the Tweed ring of cronies, yet the vision of sanitary engineers came to fruition under the Tweed administration. “Unlike previous city administrations, which pitted political interests against the perceived ‘apolitical’ demands of responsible city government, Tweed fused the two. While he pursued a political agenda to further his allegedly corrupt personal ambitions, engineers were left to build their sewer system” (152). While Tweed was ousted in 1871, the charter of 1873 left the Department of Public Works intact, controlled by professional engineers.

The Croton Aqueduct Department and its successor, the Department of Public Works, embarked on the comprehensive sewer system. It had three foci. The first was to coordinate, integrate, and upgrade the existing sewers. The second was to map and diagram the existing sewers. This was a difficult point as few records were kept regarding the private sewers; thus, engineers did not know placement or size of the sewers or what connected to what. Third, they planned to sewer the sparsely populated areas on the city’s north side, thus encouraging economic development. They modeled their project on the London sewers of Sir Joseph Bazalgette.

The Chunnel Project

The Channel Tunnel project was the most complicated of the three projects. Linking Britain with the continent was a dream that went back to Napoleon, partly to avoid a channel crossing by boat. Historically, the channel is subject to erratic and violent weather that could delay a crossing by weeks or subject a passenger to violent attacks of mal de mar. In 1985, the “Invitation to Promoters” issued by the British and French governments called for a link that would last 120 years, be resistant to terrorist attacks, and impassable or fatal to rabid animals.

Past ventures to link Britain with the continent were fraught with failed attempts; thus, the probability of failure for the project was high. From the first proposal in 1802 to the attempt in the 1970s, previous attempts pointed to the frailty of political windows of opportunity. The 1970s attempt succumbed to an economic downturn. The Chunnel’s promoters were aware of the vulnerability of the political and financial windows of opportunity. That vulnerability forced them to design the tunnel without enough time for a proper study. Most engineers felt the project needed 14 years for proper design and construction rather than the seven years the banks were willing to finance.

The debate between tunnel and bridge advocates was longstanding. Aesthetically and symbolically, a bridge would prove a better monument of Anglo-European amity. In the end, finances won the day. A bridge would cost twice as much as a tunnel. Also, a bridge would not solve the weather problem. A bridge would be subject to shutdowns during periods of violent weather or fog. The tunnel project consisted of a group of three tunnels 50 kilometers long, one main rail tunnel going in each direction, and a smaller service tunnel in between. Construction, begun in 1987, first carried trains in 1994.

The project required a treaty between Britain and France. Many British opposed any linkage with the continent because they feared invasion of armies during periods of war, an invasion of rabid animals, and/or loss of income (some owned ferries that carried channel passengers). The French were more in favor, particularly as the project was geared as economic development for the Nord-Pas de Calais region, an area prone to high unemployment. The treaty, signed by Thatcher and Mitterrand in July 1987 authorized the Intergovernmental Commission and Safety Authority to oversee the project. Eurotunnel became the owner/operator of the venture; Transmanche Link, the consortium of five French and five British construction firms, became the contractor. At the time the treaty was signed, Eurotunnel was faced with creating a functioning organization, building a company, negotiating a multibillion-pound contract, and raising enough money to pay for the enormous project.

The Channel tunnel story encountered five complexities that would have killed most other projects. These complexities included cultural differences, political and financial complications, conflicts of interest, lack of management at the highest level, a poorly written contract, and contrary health and safety concerns. Cultural differences were evident even in the areas of professionalism and standards. Polytechniciens—high status French engineers—were considered the cream of French society, particularly those graduated from the École Nationale des ponts et chaussées. English engineers, on the other hand, were considered mechanics. A difference in tunnelers and railroad engineers was also apparent. The British hired experienced tunnelers and locomotive drivers. The French hired unemployed workers from the Calais area and trained them to become tunnelers and, after the project was completed, retrained them to become locomotive drivers. The French and British had to compromise on numerous construction points, including voltage and service tunnel diameter. British building standards were used on the British portion of the tunnel, French standards on the French portion. Tunnel construction was started on both sides of the channel with the goal of meeting in the middle.

The second complexity dealt with financing. While the Thatcher government gave strong moral and political support, it required that the project be financed entirely by the private sector. The private financing was achieved in three rounds, although the stock market crash of 1987 almost derailed the project. Equity 1 provided £46 million put forward by the founding shareholder—the banks and Channel tunnel contractors. Equity 2 provided £206 million to pay for tunnel-boring machines and preparatory work. This proposal was advanced as a private offering to institutions. Equity 3 raised £770 million from shares purchased by individual investors. In addition, a worldwide consortium of banks ultimately loaned £5 billion.

The third complexity involved conflicts of interest. The commission of owner/operator was given to Eurotunnel and the construction contract to Transmanche Link, a consortium of 10 French and British construction firms. However, the two were entwined. Eurotunnel was created by the contractors who had representatives on Eurotunnel’s Board of Directors. Likewise, the French and British arranging banks had representatives on the board. Thus, the lenders were also shareholders. This incestuous relationship proved an obstacle for the international technical banks in charge of reviewing the contract.

The fourth complexity involved the lack of project management skills at Eurotunnel. Experienced managers of large multinational projects were unwilling to commit to a tenuous project and one of such lengthy scope, thus the initial managers were second tier. While Eurotunnel would operate the tunnel once completed, during construction it felt its role was overseer of construction. It meddled in construction decisions, bid letting, and created numerous design changes. This meddling came, in part, as a result of a poorly written contract that allowed conflicting interpretations. Eurotunnel felt that, for the money the contractors would receive, the tunnel should be technologically state of the art; thus, they introduced changes in the scope and design that greatly affected costs in other areas. The contractor, Transmanche Link, felt its role was simply to supply a tunnel to meet the demands of the contract. Relations between these two organizations over project scope festered through the entire life of the project.

The fifth complexity involved elements injected by Parliament. It was concerned about having barriers to prevent the reintroduction of rabies into Britain. It also wanted fire barriers on the rail cars. Parliament, reflecting a national phobia toward rabies, included a provision in the treaty that required that the tunnels be built to prevent animals from France arriving on British soil. As part of the treaty, this element was nonnegotiable. An enormous amount of time was spent designing animal barriers and death traps. In addition, Parliament was concerned with fire safety in the tunnel, particularly after the London Underground fire in Kings Cross tube station that killed 31 in November 1987. The Intergovernmental Commission and Safety Authority oversaw these proposals and enforced strict requirements that added to the cost, weight, and construction time of the rail cars.

From the beginning it was clear that the project was vast. These complications led to overruns on time and cost. The project was completed late and well over budget.

Conclusion

One similarity among the three stories is striking—all three projects faced the difficulties of maneuvering professional standards through the politics of the project. The differences in the projects are more diverse and include cooperation levels of stakeholders, styles of project management, approaches to project funding, and organizational structures of the project.

First, while all three projects were organized, contracted, and constructed in the “professional” domain, the interests of political and private players often intruded. The lack of cooperation between Eurotunnel and Transmanche Link escalated into a full-scale feud that lasted through the life of the project. Rather than working as a unit toward one goal, the project became a high stakes game of one-up-man-ship where obstruction of the “opponent,” rather than completion, was often the target. In contrast, lack of cooperation was rarely a problem with the two sewer projects.

The second difference occurred in project management styles. In the sewer projects one man, the chief engineer, was in control of design, contract, and construction decision making. The shared management that evolved between Eurotunnel and Transmarch-Link made that project much more difficult.

The third difference between the nineteenth-century projects and the Channel tunnel project was financing. In the case of the Channel tunnel project, financing was a complicated problem. Since no public funding was available for the Chunnel, Eurotunnel management had to sell the viability of the project to institutional and private investors. The banks’ unwillingness to finance more than seven years of design and construction hampered design efforts by the engineers. Thus, private financing hamstrung the designers and contractors forcing deadline and cost overruns. The sewer systems, on the other hand, were financed with public funds and had the luxury of good design from the beginning.

Fourth, the magnitude of complexity in the Channel project threatened its viability. The sewer projects, though not simple endeavors, were completed piecemeal over a twenty-year period. Each section of the cities to be sewered was built on a separate contract; thus, the sewers were not constructed all at once, but in sections. Each completed portion of the sewer system could operate independently and did not require all segments to be completed before they worked. Engineers could learn from the mistakes made in constructing the first section and avoid them when constructing the later sections. This was not so, of course, with the Channel tunnel. The tunnel was an all-or-none proposition. No part of the project could operate until all phases were completed.

All three books are an interesting read. They combine the history and growth of numerous professions including public administration, public works administration, public health, civil engineering, and project management; thus, they have wide appeal. The three books have many similarities. The books describing nineteenth-century projects document the growth and professionalization of civil engineering and public works management. Many of the standards utilized in public works projects today reflect the work of trailblazers like Bazalgette, in London, and Craven, in New York. Thus, the Chunnel engineers benefited from the body of work and standards compiled by those of the earlier generation.

All three books are very well researched. All authors provide numerous maps, diagrams, and archival photographs that contribute to understanding the scope of the projects.

In addition, Goldman shows a thorough knowledge of the subject and tells her story in tersely written text. Hers is a scholarly work, and she uses copious notes throughout. Her book would be easily understood by any student of public administration, engineering, or history.

Halliday’s book, however, is the better written. I particularly appreciated his use of biographical vignettes of the persons pertinent to the story. These vignettes help readers understand the role each actor plays in the story. Halliday’s book is also full of pictures, engravings, and blueprints gleaned from sewage archives. Some of the pictures are in color. The pictures help the reader to understand a complex story. Like Goldman’s, the book is recommended for student use. It is clear, easy to understand, yet retains a scholarly nature.

Fetherston’s work, however, is not as clearly presented. The Chunnel story appears to be the most complex of the three, but that may be partially a function of the lack of organization in the book and partially a reflection of the increased complexity of organizational life that has taken place over time. The book suffers from extensive details of prior tunnel ventures, fails to identify a proper time frame, does not clearly explain the complex financial arrangements, and fails to showcase the project’s vast accomplishments. It is difficult to read and is not recommended for students. A good editor could have rectified many of the book’s problems. The deficiencies obscure an important and well-researched story.