
The release of President Biden’s initial infrastructure plan set off a flurry of controversy and partisan debate—what constitutes infrastructure? The inclusion of social spending, most notably childcare, challenged the idea that the term infrastructure applied exclusively to construction projects like roads, bridges, and railways. More broadly, the debate has called into question whether the purpose of infrastructure spending is solely economic growth.
Viewing recovery spending as a tradeoff between economic growth and improving social equity is not only misguided but may lead to another missed opportunity for a far-reaching, socially just recovery. Instead, policy makers should adopt a broader idea of infrastructure that, first, recognizes the contributions of social infrastructure to economic growth, and second, views physical infrastructure not solely as a product but as an ongoing process.
This debate around what is and is not infrastructure is hardly new, but one that’s been happening since the term’s first appearance in the English language just over a century ago when it referred to the construction work conducted prior to laying railway tracks—not even the tracks themselves, which were superstructure. By the 1950s the term was entering wider use and already generating disputes about its meaning, or lack thereof, with the New York Times publishing articles on the new government jargon, or “gobbledygook”, and the United States Secretary of State referring to the term’s appearance as “baffling.”[1] Still, policy makers tend to view infrastructure as the physical structures that enable commerce—utilities, public works, transportation, etc.[2]
A more open definition of infrastructure is useful, as it needs to evolve to meet the needs of people and government. This is particularly the case considering the impact of major system stressors such as COVID-19. The pandemic exposed how social infrastructures impacted various groups’ ability to contribute to, and benefit from, the economy. What we’ve seen during COVID-19, however, is that women in the workforce were impacted disproportionately than men, often as a result of the increased burden of unpaid care, such as childcare. This is a social issue, but also an economic one—it’s estimated that COVID’s impacts on women’s employment will lower global GDP by $1 trillion by 2030, whereas taking action and improving gender equity could boost GDP by $13 trillion.[3] The pandemic has illustrated how human services like childcare are not a luxury but a vital infrastructure, and the economy requires these services to function just as much as it relies on roads, rails and broadband.
Over the past decade, there’s been a rapid evolution in infrastructure policy to include nature-based or “green” infrastructure, like parks and conservation areas, as a response not only to the risks of climate change but also a recognition of the wider benefits they provide, including economic ones. Yet, policymakers have often been slower and more reluctant to expand infrastructure to include, or give priority to, more of the human elements that contribute to the economy. This is despite growing evidence to the contrary. For example, a 2020 working paper from the United States Federal Reserve found that increasing college tuition grants for low-income students by 1 percent of a city’s income raises income by 2.4 percent over the next two years, with the multiplier effect being higher during times of recession.[4]
Even for traditional built infrastructure spending, there is an opportunity to distribute social benefits spatially by thinking of infrastructure not as a product, but a process. From early planning, design, and procurement to later ongoing maintenance, the human components of built infrastructure offer ways to target groups and areas to increase equity and spread economic benefits. In what others have referred to as “infrastructures for distribution,” infrastructure decisions should focus not just on growth, but how the benefits of that growth can meet those most in need.[5]

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