In 1504, an anonymous mapmaker – most likely an Italian – carved a meticulous depiction of the known world into two halves of conjoined ostrich eggs.
The grapefruit-sized globe included recent breaking discoveries of
mysterious distant lands, including Japan, Brazil and the Arabic
peninsula. But blanks remained. In a patch of ocean near Southeast Asia,
that long-forgotten mapmaker carefully etched the Latin phrase Hic Sunt
Dracones – “Here are the dragons.” Today it is safe to say there
are no unknown territories with dragons. However, it’s not quite true to
say that every corner of the planet is charted. We may seem to have a
map for everywhere, but that doesn’t mean they are complete, accurate or
even trustworthy.
For starters, all maps are biased toward their creator’s subjective view of the world. As Lewis Carroll famously pointed out,
a perfectly objective and faithful 1:1 representation of the world
would literally have to be the same size as the place it depicted.
Therefore, mapmakers must make sensible design decisions in order to
compress the physical world into a much smaller, flatter depiction.
Those decisions inevitably introduce personal biases, however, such as
our tendency to place ourselves at the centre of the world. “We always
want to put ourselves on the map,” says Jerry Brotton, a professor of
renaissance studies at Queen Mary University London, and author of A History of the World in 12 Maps. “Maps address an existential question as much as one that’s about orientation and coordinates.
“We
want to find ourselves on the map, but at the same time, we are also
outside of the map, rising above the world and looking down as if we
were god,” he continues. “It’s a transcendental experience.”
How Africa was seen in the 1700s (Thinkstock)
Which is why, he says, the first thing most new
Google Earth users do is to look up their own address. Modern technology
enables this exercise in ego, but the tendency itself is nothing new.
It dates back to the oldest known world map, a 2,500-year-old cuneiform
tablet discovered near Baghdad that puts Babylon at its centre.
Mapmakers throughout history adopted a similar bias toward their own
homeland, and little seems to have changed since then. Today, American
maps still tend to centre on America; Japanese maps on Japan; and Chinese ones on China. Some Australian maps
are even rotated so that the southern hemisphere is on top. It’s such
an ego-centric approach that the United Nations sought to avoid it when
they created their emblem – a map of the world neutrally centered on the North Pole.
Similarly,
maps can overestimate their creators’ geographic worth, or reveal bias
against certain places. Africa’s true size, for example, has been chronically downplayed throughout the history of mapmaking, and even now, non-Africans tend to underestimate the size of that truly massive continent – which is large enough to cover China, the US and much of Europe.
Missed a bit?
Religious, political and economic agendas also
come into play, adulterating a map’s objectivity. The maps of World War
II, for example, were incredibly propagandist, depicting “dreadful red
bears and red perils,” Brotton says. “The maps were distorted to tell a
political message.
“A map,” he continues, “will always have an
agenda, an argument, a proposal about what the world looks like from a
particular perspective.” Skewed view
Even today’s digital maps adhere to this rule, he says. Google and other digital mapmakers turn the world into “one enormous web browser”, he explains, driven by commercial interests.
But
Manik Gupta, the group product manager at Google Maps, counters that
Google Maps’ primary goal mirrors that of its company: to organise the
world’s information and make it universally accessible and useful.
Commerce is just one part of that. “At the end of the day, technology is
a tool,” Gupta says. “Our job is to make sure it’s super accurate and
works. Users then decide how they want to use it.”
(Google)
Nevertheless, even digital maps skew toward the
things that their users deem most important. Those areas that the
majority sees as unworthy of attention – poor neighbourhoods like the
Orangi shanty town in Karachi, Pakistan, or the Neza-Chalco-Itza slum in
Mexico city – as well as those places that mapmakers do not often go –
war-torn regions, North Korea – remain grossly undermapped.
This neglect means maps of remote regions can contain errors that go unnoticed for years. Scientists paying a visit to Sandy Island,
a speck of land in to Coral Sea near New Caledonia, recently discovered
that the island simply did not exist. The “phantom island” had found
its way onto Australian maps and Google Earth at least a decade ago,
probably due to human error.
Google has two approaches to addressing these problems: sending mapmakers out into the wilderness with Street View cameras attached to backpacks, bikes, boats or snowmobiles, and launching Map Maker,
a tool created in 2008 that allows anyone anywhere to enhance existing
Google maps. “If it’s important, then most likely the users will put it
on the map,” Gupta says.
Favelas may be close to well-known cities, but they are not well-mapped (Thinkstock)
But while many communities have literally put
themselves on the map, others have not. (Most likely, mapping Rio de
Janeiro’s favelas or the floating slum of Makoko in Lagos isn’t a top
priority for those living there.) Traditional paper maps tend to neglect
these areas as well. “They’re places that the state denies or doesn’t
want to portray as part of its landscape,” says Alexander Kent, a senior
lecturer in geography and GIS at Canterbury Christ Church University in
the UK. “Far from being something objective that just reflects what’s
on the ground, the person behind the map has the power to determine what
goes on it or not.”
In recognition of this problem, a new effort called the Missing Maps Project
– organised by the Red Cross, Doctors Without Borders and the
Humanitarian OpenStreetMap Team – recruits volunteers to fill in the
cartographical blanks in the developing world. It’s too early to tell
whether the project will make a substantial dent, but launch parties
are scheduled in London and Jakarta to try and drum up interest among
potential volunteers.
Coastlines often change faster than maps can track them (Getty Images)
The ocean, likewise, is one of the most poorly
mapped areas of the planet, despite the fact that it occupies the most
space. “The great terra incognita is the ocean bed,” Brotton says. In
light of increasing interest in underwater mining and drilling, certain
countries – especially Russia – are looking to lay claim on large tracts
of ocean floor. Additionally, with sea ice quickly receding, more and
more territory will come up for grabs. “As the landscape changes, it
becomes possible to exploit more mineral resources, so mapping becomes
extremely powerful and important,” Brotton says. To draw attention to
this gap of knowledge, Brotton and artist Adam Lowe are creating a 3D map of the ocean floor
without water. “I think geographers are beginning to understand that
mapping the oceans is one of the great untold stories,” he says. Low quality
For others, though, untold stories abound even in some of the most prolifically mapped places in the world. Dave Imus,
an award-winning mapmaker based in Oregon, acknowledges that much of
the world has been mapped in a basic sense, but believes that the vast
majority of maps are not good enough.
“So many maps are difficult
to understand, forcing the eye and mind to work overtime trying to
perceive what it’s looking at,” he says. And a digital map, with spoken
directions, “is good for helping you find a restaurant, but you’re no
more connected with your surroundings than looking for the next turn”.
Frustrated
with the maps on offer for the US, he set out to make his own, turning
to the “really exquisite, expressive” mapping style of Swiss
cartographers as inspiration. “It’s my hypothesis that the reason
Europeans are so much more geographically aware than we Americans is
that they have these maps that make their surroundings understandable
and we don’t,” he says.
The fruit of his labour is the Essential Geography of the United States of America,
a highly informative map that does away with the muddle of
rainbow-coloured states of traditional US maps, instead delineating
boundaries in green and allowing each state’s actual features –
mountains, forests, lakes, urban centres, highways – to characterise
those places. City populations are indicated in yellow patches, and
rather than cram in as many towns as possible, Imus uses census data to
standardise rural places in terms of what counts as a hub in that
particular area – whether that means 500 or 5,000 people. Major
landmarks and transportation centres like airports are marked; Native
American reserves are included (something lacking on many maps); and
elevation of not only of mountains but also cities is noted. “The
National Geographic map of the US has some elevations of mountain peaks
but doesn’t even tell you the elevation of Denver, Colorado,” Imus says.
“As a consequence, it doesn’t communicate anything meaningful about
what that place is like if you’ve never been there.” High standard
Such
maps are incredibly time consuming and expensive to produce, however.
Imus spent 6,000 hours on his. As a result, as far as Imus knows, only
Europe, Japan, New Zealand and now the US have maps available that meet
these high standards. “We think we’re living in this modern age and
everything’s been done, but for people who look at mapping at a slightly
different angle, they’ll see things that still need to be done
virtually everywhere,” he says. Still, Imus dreams of a day when such
maps will be widely available everywhere and at increasingly fine
scales, such as at the state and city level. Ultimately, he hopes this
would foster a more geographically literate society. “I’ve felt
misunderstood at times,” Imus says, “but I’ve gotten so much great
feedback on this project that I feel like people now get it and it’ll
continue on.”
Shifting climates change the shape of the land, rendering maps outdated (Getty Images)
But even the most detailed maps cannot get around
one fundamental problem in the way of creating a near-perfect
cartographic representation for any place in the world: the incredible
pace of change, both human and nature-made, that characterises life on
the planet. Some cities in Asia and Africa, Gupta says, are undergoing
so much construction that Google Maps have been unable to keep up. At
the same time, natural landscapes are constantly in a state of flux –
now, more so than ever. Islands are being devoured by the sea, ice floes
are disappearing, shorelines are eroding and forests are being cleared.
“The very moment you build a perfect map of the world is the moment it
goes out of date,” Gupta says. “The real world will always be a little
bit ahead of how we represent it, because change is constant.”
In
that sense, the entire world is undermapped, and it will always remain
that way. A birds-eye view of a city tells you it’s there, but not how
to navigate through all corners of it. A foldout map is a relic of the
time it went to print, unable to take into account earthquake
destruction, new roads or renegotiated borders. And Google Maps can
provide turn-by-turn instructions for biking from London to Brighton,
but fails utterly when asked to do the same for traversing a Brazilian
favela or the Gobi desert’s dunes.
Even our best maps, then, are
merely more up to date and truer to place than others. Our age-old quest
to capture uncharted land and space will never end.
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