Keywords

Despite its continuing relevance, the classic topic of social inequality between and within societies has gone through different phases over the decades in terms of the attention it has received, influencing public discourse in different ways. The question of what constitutes inequality is, by its nature, normative and charged with value. It depends on what is considered valuable and desirable within a society and to what extent corresponding goods and services are attainable for the individual. The limited nature of material wealth, power or prestige and the selective accessibility of resources lead to differences in distribution, whose meaning must always be defined and negotiated in the socio-political context. Different viewpoints notwithstanding, in general the acceptance of social stratification seems to be decreasing when individual options for action are restricted to such an extent that an improvement of one’s social position is hardly possible. In the recent past, more and more findings have corroborated this development. Not only is it clear that income and wealth are becoming more and more polarised in the wealthiest countries, but also that the losers are permanently forfeiting essential opportunities, passing this burden on to their children. In addition to the distribution of economic resources, socialisation and educational contexts contribute to a class-related segregation that greatly limits social advancement.

The current revival of the debate on inequality draws important arguments from this logic of reproduction. Adding further relevance to it is the fact that in the post-Fordist economies, many occupations are now being lost that used to secure resources and a sense of belonging for workers. The emerging digital age is accompanied by completely new skills requirements. Education will become even more important, and with it the question of accessibility. If digital technologies such as the smartphone are also seen as new tools for acquiring knowledge and qualifications, there seems to be no quick answer to the question of which groups will emerge as the loser from the process of change on the labour market. In fact, some researchers in the field of education argue that this transformation could uncover hitherto unknown access to resources, to the benefit of those who were disadvantaged in a reproductive distribution system.

To assess the opportunities for advancement in the internet age, the process of social reproduction has to be discussed in more detail, with the development and causes of social inequality in the present as the point of departure. In order to identify group-specific mechanisms of advantage and disadvantage more comprehensively, the acquisition of knowledge and qualifications must be placed in the broader context of socialisation and its spatial conditionality.

2.1 Social Inequality in Post-industrial Society

Characterising the present as a time of dramatic changes in the labour market, a dismantling of the welfare state and a dramatic increase in inequality of life chances also means comparing it to a past that was characterised by a high degree of social convergence. This is true for the Fordist post-war era of the 1950s and, in particular, the 1960s in Western Europe and the United States. Since the demise of this era in the 1970s, the debate over the social question, especially related to inequality of income, has again become relevant as the “new social question”. Presently, there is even talk of a dramatic regression, with parallels to the class divide of the nineteenth century in terms of inequality and life chances (Siebel 2012, p. 472).

While wages in the simple service sector are lagging behind overall income development, they are currently growing in the field of high-productivity (high-value) services. On the one hand, a growing number of unemployed or low-skilled workers, single parents or older people have difficulty coping with the demands of the modern labour market (Schürz 2016), while on the other hand the winners of modernisation benefit disproportionately. Over the years, high-income earners have been able to use their powerful positions to increase their income, even though the relative level compared to low incomes does not correspond to the respective productivity (Piketty 2014). Growing income inequality is evident in longitudinal studies for almost all highly developed service nations (Atkinson et al. 2011; Rohrbach 2008, p. 195ff; United Nations 2020; Kakwani 2022). A common finding is that the shares of households in the middle income groups are decreasing, while those in the upper and lower-income groups are clearly increasing. If we focus on the wealth situation of households, the contrasts that have emerged in recent decades become even sharper. In Europe alone, which still has the smallest contrasts in a continental comparison, there have been strong polarisations over the last few years: The Top 10% in Europe captures 58% of total household wealth, versus 38% for the Middle 40% and 4% for the Bottom 50% (Chancel et al. 2022). Within the country groups, the differences are sometimes even more drastic. In Germany, for example, the richest ten per cent of the population own more than 67% of total net wealth. For the richest one per cent it is over 35%, and for the richest one per thousand it is still 20% (Deutsche Bundesbank 2022).

The extreme inequality of wealth produces contrasting life realities of privilege and complete deprivation, which are not only evident in quality of life, opportunities of participation and realisation, but can also mean a difference in life expectancy of up to 10 years (Lampert and Rosenbrock 2017).

Among the numerous explanations for the extreme accumulation of wealth among the propertied classes is the productivity of capital, whose income generally grows faster in percentage terms than the economy as a whole (Piketty and Saez 2006). Other reasons are the options of tax reduction or evasion (tax havens) (Druyen et al. 2009), or the increasingly unequal distribution of inherited income (Frick and Grabka 2009).

Yet, the most important explanation of social polarisation processes concerns the question of income generation and its preconditions. Economic and sociological studies point in two directions here: Among economists, the thesis of skill-biased technological change can be found frequently, which sees the increasing importance of relevant qualifications as the main reason for rising income inequality. Against the backdrop of technological change, especially in connection with the spread of modern computers, the demand for highly qualified workers is rising sharply. As has been widely demonstrated in the early stages of computer diffusion in the United States, this leads to substantial wage gaps between skilled and unskilled workers, which are increasing over time (Bound and Johnson 1992; Levy and Murnane 1992; Autor et al. 1999, among others). The outlined polarisations within the growing service spectrum between unskilled labour and highly specialised activities fit into this diagnosis. The emerging integration of industrial production with modern information and communication technology (“Industry 4.0”) will give further impetus to the polarisation processes, as highly paid services continue to displace industrial activities. Further ahead, scholars are predicting the emergence of a global precariat in a fully connected world, when it will be possible to distribute most digital services under global competition on increasingly poor terms (Graham and Anwar 2019).

To counter this economic explanation of income inequality as a function of supply and demand, sociologists use closure theory (for an overview, see Mackert 2004). According to this, elites manage to secure increasing incomes for themselves and exclude others from professional fields of activity and the wealth gains of the national economy through discrimination mechanisms, processes of distinction, institutional changes and class conflicts. From this perspective, privilege through citizenship can be as much a restriction on competition as the requirement of degrees for certain professions.

Both approaches focus on the lack of social mobility of low-income earners, which, according to the concept of skill-biased technological change, is also based on the need for education and qualifications. This raises the question of equal opportunity with regard to individual education. In many OECD countries, the educational path taken greatly depends on the income and qualifications of the parents, resulting in the reproduction of social inequality. Children from lower-status backgrounds are demonstrably less likely to acquire a higher educational qualification than children from higher-status backgrounds. Further limits to social mobility are set by the difficulties to enter the education market or a certain educational institution faced by older people, single parents or immigrants.

Closure theory views social mobility as regulated from the outside, which highlights the importance of the exclusion mechanisms that are already taking effect in the education process. While a lack of education and training certificates itself acts as a closure mechanism, other mechanisms of empowerment or restriction, which have to do with social background, milieu, place of residence and other socialisation conditions, are at play even before. From this perspective, too, an inequality of opportunity with self-reinforcing effects can be observed: While the “inside” creates a sense of belonging and guarantees access to resources relevant for advancement that consolidate the status achieved, the “outside” deprives the individual of the necessary access, cements or diminishes the existing position and puts them at a relative disadvantage in the competition with others. Therefore, for the study of social polarisation it makes sense to first look at the fields of opportunity and access to resources that individuals and groups dispose of.

The ability to individually improve one’s social position depends not only on personal preconditions but also on living conditions. These are usually divided into the categories of differences in education, gainful employment, wealth, power, prestige, as well as different working, living and leisure conditions (cf. also Rössel 2009). Education is at the centre of this web of enablers and constraints. Its paramount importance is reflected in countless publications that analyse it in the context of changing occupational demands or—more generally—conceptualise it as the most important enabler of social participation (Miethe et al. 2017; Piketty 2014; Castells 2009; chapter 4). It is to be understood here in both respects—as a never-ending process that facilitates the development of an independent personality capable of solving problems and mastering life, and therefore having a very fundamental effect on the individual's options for action.

Yet viewing education as a central prerequisite for professional and social success should not make us forget that education systems are only one aspect of a comprehensive socialisation process whose complex components are made up of individual psychological and external social conditions. The individual's chances of succeeding in the labour market through education and knowledge are thus dependent both on personality formation and development and on the social and material environment mediated by society. With their model of productive processing of reality, Hurrelmann and Bauer (2018) have placed socialisation in this double context of internal and external reality. Accordingly, personality development is conceived as a constant interaction of individual development and the surrounding factors. “Whether or not the individual is successful in coping with these tasks depends on the personal and social resources available to him or her. The demand to balance personal individualisation and social integration in order to safeguard self-identity is present in all phases of life and development” (Hurrelmann and Bauer 2018, p. 23). The authors divide the socio-spatial conditions into contextual factors, which concern the material equipment, the symbolic occupation as well as the standardisation of a surrounding space, and into compositional factors. The latter denote the composition of the group to which people belong or in which they act.

While education and the acquisition of knowledge in the socialisation process thus generally hold the promise of social participation, this promise depends on equal opportunities in the acquisition of education. Tracing the life course of the individual, which takes place in stages from the early years, through young adulthood, middle adulthood to older and oldest adulthood, reveals that the living conditions, or—in terms of socialisation theory—the contextual and compositional factors in these stages differ considerably between rich and poor.

Serious social inequalities can be documented for all phases of life, which in turn contribute to the inequalities in the socialisation process. A central part of this process is the ongoing internalisation of experiences, the aforementioned “productive processing of the internal and external reality” (Hurrelmann and Bauer 2018, p. 23), which ties back to the individual reservoir of action and perception, providing specific options.

Pierre Bourdieu’s famous theory of class (especially 1984) offers itself as a starting point for a deeper examination of the different chances to reach upwardly relevant resources in physical real space and, on further consideration, in virtual space. It connects well with Hurrelmann's dualism of personality development and environmental influences: Bourdieu resolves the polarity between the objectivist and subjectivist position, between socially shaped and autonomously acting individuals via the habitus concept, which takes up the social structure and in turn structures people’s thoughts and actions. The individual does not face his environment in isolation, but incorporates it and unites with it. Objective structures of living conditions—such as income or level of education—and subjective motives for action, dispositions and knowledge thus correspond to a high degree.

2.2 Approaches Following the Theory of Pierre Bourdieu

Bourdieu’s theory of class has long been established in the fields of socialisation, education and stratification research, proving its theoretical adaptability and explanatory power until the present. Furthermore, it has provided an interdisciplinary reference point for a wide range of research interests. Depending on the approach, the French sociologist’s extensive oeuvre is taken up as a model of lifestyles, theory of practice or habitus concept, all of which in no way denies the consistent design of the basic theoretical framework. The following summary of some of Bourdieu’s central findings focuses on the relevance of his work for socialisation theory—mainly with reference to his most important study (Bourdieu 1979, 1984)—by addressing capital acquisition and intra-class habitus acquisition of reproductive patterns of disposition. In a further step, the relevance of the physical space can be connected to this, something which Bourdieu himself did only to a limited extent (Bourdieu 1991, 1999).

Bourdieu developed the concept of social space as a foundation for explaining economic-social conditions (classes) and lifestyles and how they mutually condition one another. He understands social space as a relational structure of social positions (not to be confused with places or territories in real space) whose coordinates reflect the positions of individuals and groups. On a first level, class-related positioning can be determined in this web of social relations. As is well known, Bourdieu defines this according to the capital endowment, which he detaches from a purely economic view, in contrast to the previous analysis of class: “The primary differences, those which distinguish the major classes of conditions of existence, derive from the overall volume of capital, understood as the set of actually usable resources and powers…” (Bourdieu 1984, S. 114). Besides economic capital, which is capital that can be converted into money (such as property and assets), Bourdieu refers here to social and cultural capital. Cultural capital can take on three forms, as (a) embodied, (b) objective and (c) institutionalised capital:

  1. a.

    Embodied cultural capital refers to knowledge and education. In the broadest sense, education encompasses different capabilities and skills that individuals acquire in an ongoing socialisation process in the family, at school and in the social environment. This includes specialised knowledge in a field of science just as much as preferences in taste, personal appearance in the context of what is appropriate or individual speaking skills. These are acquired capabilities and skills that cannot be bought with money nor can they be inherited. At the same time, their incorporation is based on a class-based potential related to patterns of education, access to cultural incentives or social contacts in the neighbourhood. Thus the described perpetuation of the social class puts the focus on the incorporated capital through ongoing internalisation of the available educational offers and the reproduction of available resources. From the point of view of closure theory, the unequal opportunity to invest in education can be understood as a guarded advantage of the elites. They are the ones setting the rules that define which cultural norms are legitimate and which are not.

  2. b.

    In addition to embodied capital, Bourdieu talks about objective capital, which includes cultural goods (e.g., books, paintings, instruments). Because of their materiality, they can be passed on as property. However, they are only useful as a strategically applicable form of capital if the actor is also aware of the importance of these goods and possesses the corresponding embodied capital.

  3. c.

    Institutionalised capital refers to titles. The possession of titles (certificates, diplomas, academic degrees) certifies that an individual possesses specific cultural skills and abilities. Due to their institutional recognition, titles make a conversion into economic capital possible, such as when the successful completion of an educational programme is accepted as proof of qualification for entry into the professional world. Institutionalised capital thus also exhibits interrelationships with Bourdieu's other types of capital mentioned, since the professional career is influenced both by embodied and economic (and also objectified) capital, and the acquisition of these capitals is in turn either favoured or made more difficult by the profession and income.

By social capital, Bourdieu understands a person’s social network that they can fall back on. Friends, memberships or business contacts entail different group memberships that can help gain resources relevant for advancement, whether through an important information (e.g., about a job opening, a real estate property), preferential treatment (e.g., getting a job or a loan) or another form of help. Here again, the capital endowment greatly depends on the family of origin, even if effort to maintain the contacts is necessary. To acquire further social capital, the living environment needs to be considered, as the usual places a person frequents to a large extent predetermine with whom and under what circumstances contacts are possible in the first place.

Finally, Bourdieu introduces a further, overarching type of capital, which he termed symbolic capital. It refers to the prestige or reputation attributed to a person based on the three aforementioned types of capital, for example, because of contacts, titles, education or wealth.

To determine one’s position in social space, the quantity and characteristics of the types of capital are decisive. While a cumulation of all types of capital might imply a clear social stratification, Bourdieu puts the emphasis on the construction of social classes resulting from the “relationships between all relevant characteristics” (1984, S. 114ff). In the coordinate system of economic and cultural capital, he locates individual professions and occupational groups that are endowed with specific capital. Thus, university lecturers, executives, doctors or entrepreneurs have a high volume of capital overall. Within this group, university lecturers have more cultural capital and entrepreneurs are characterised more by their economic capital. In comparison, semi-skilled workers or administrative employees, among others, are characterised by a low overall level of capital endowment. Bourdieu complements this space of objective class positions, which he calls the “space of social position”, with the “space of lifestyles”. Both are intimately connected to each other: Class is expressed in different lifestyles, such as how one dresses, one’s taste in music or one’s learning. In the coordinate system of capital endowment, clusters of specific tastes, preferences and activities are thus found that correspond to certain occupations: “Thus, grouped around the name of each class fraction are those features of its life-style which are the most pertinent because they are the most distinctive – though it may in fact share them with other groups” (Ibid., p. 131).

If a person’s capital endowment correlates with their social position and manifests itself in certain lifestyles, then this presupposes class-specific structures of thought and behaviour. Bourdieu termed these “habitus”. As a general attitude, as an internalised pattern of perception, thought and action, the habitus structures the world for the individual, determining what is acknowledged and approved of and what seems possible. As it develops over the course of socialisation, it is characterised by the class of origin and expresses an internalised social order: “This means that inevitably inscribed within the dispositions of the habitus is the whole structure of the system of conditions, as it presents itself in the experience of a life-condition occupying a particular position within that structure. The most fundamental oppositions in the structure (high/low, rich/poor etc.) tend to establish themselves as the fundamental structuring principles of practices and the perception of practices” (Ibid., S. 172). As the habitus has specific blueprints for processing reality built into it and the structure of reality is internalised as a meaningful order, social change becomes very difficult. While within one’s own class, the habitus helps to meet the predominant codes and expectations, to create acceptance and belonging, it also limits the access to other classes. The internalised patterns of perception and judgement cannot connect to the conventions that exist there, or can only do so with difficulty. The reservoir of options for action, developed originally to protect oneself from experiences of crisis within the class, proves to be insufficient for entry into foreign classes and also inert for change (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 2013, S. 186f). For the lower classes, this means that they are denied access to types of capital which are relevant for upward mobility: They are deprived of certain contacts that could contribute to improving their position in terms of social capital. With regard to cultural capital, they remain unaware of the basis on which hiring and promotions take place regardless of professional qualification. They lack inspirations and role models to develop specific ambitions or to even be able to reflect on what the invisible rules of social advancement consist of.

In this process of social reproduction, numerous mechanisms of distinction are at work, through which classes distinguish themselves from one another on a symbolic level. Bourdieu contrasts the “taste for luxury” of the upper class with the “taste for necessity” of the lower class. The former defines cultural norms, seeking to distance itself from the masses through goods and styles whose value is based on rarity. Their habitus is expressed in their sense of taste, an affinity for the non-essential, a relaxed approach to rules and the will to secure their dominant position through social distinction. In his empirical studies on the “fine distinctions” in French society, most of which date from the second half of the 1960s, Bourdieu compiles a wide range of distinction practices. Overall, they reveal that “…there is no area of practice in which the aim of purifying, refining and sublimating primary needs and impulses cannot assert itself, no area in which the stylization of life, that is, the primacy of forms over functions, of manner over matter, does not produce the same effects” (Bourdieu 1984, p. 5). In nearly all areas of life, the economic class conflict is interwoven with a symbolic conflict over values and legitimate standards. The understanding of various codes, the correct implementation of rituals and a confident demeanour always presuppose, in addition to a lengthy process of understanding and internalisation, access to the class setting the standards. In the absence of this access, there is an inevitable lack of guidance and, more fundamentally, of class consciousness and understanding of the logic of stratification.

The competition among the ruling class for distinction on the one hand and the aspirations of the middle and lower classes on the other takes place in the various fields of culture, economy and politics. In the social struggle for prestige (symbolic capital), all types of capital are brought into play. According to Bourdieu, which capital combination prevails over the others always depends on the field. Its logic “…determines those which are valid in this market, which are pertinent and active in the game in question, and which, in the relationship with this field, function as specific capital- and, consequently, as a factor explaining practices” (Ibid., p. 113). The space of lifestyles with its power of distinction always has an effect on the space of social position, unleashing reproductive forces. From this perspective, a persistence of conditions of social inequality is not inevitable, but certainly probable.

In the interconnected world we live in today, however, there are additional options for action that the habitus concept cannot do justice to. It has been argued that social reproduction through the formative power of the habitus leaves the individual, embedded in social structures, with hardly any agency. Conditioned by one’s class in a homogeneous and permanent manner, a person’s possibility for self-development is so radically curtailed that it amounts to an external determination (e.g., DiMaggio 1979; King 2000).

In the 50 years that have passed since Bourdieu’s empirical findings, the focus has shifted from the nation-state to an interconnected world. One could argue that individuals are today less determined by class, with educational and other options making completely new resources available, above all thanks to the internet. Whether the new possibilities in terms of information and communication can actually justify this expectation remains to be seen.

What must be said in defence of Bourdieu is that the reproducing power of the habitus by no means excludes deviating experiences and that variations are always possible through the individual habitus (e.g., Bourdieu 1984, p. 107f; Bourdieu and Wacquant 2013, p. 170). Nevertheless, collective influences appear to be sufficiently strong to allow capital-dependent differentiations to continue. More recent studies have, following Bourdieu, again identified classes in different countries and interpreted them with the help of the reproductive logic (e.g., Holt 1997 for the USA; Prieur et al. 2008 for Denmark; Bennett et al. 2009 for the UK). In addition, the clarity of reproductive mechanisms in the education system has been emphasised many times with reference to Bourdieu (Biermann 2009; Cushion and Jones 2012; Benson et al. 2015).

Without denying the serious inequality in many Western countries, we are undoubtedly witnessing an increase in opportunities for the individual compared to the past, which can be realised even with little economic capital. However, rather than proving Bourdieu’s categories wrong, they reveal non-monetary structuring principles on a different level that are in line with the concept of the habitus. In today’s world, where leisure activities and consumer goods that were once reserved to the upper class are available to everyone, differences in material wealth are much less decisive. Rather, knowledge of the upwardly relevant use of resources that precedes the consumption decision plays an essential role in explaining social differences. This knowledge in turn refers to the importance of Bourdieu’s other types of capital and the difficulty of obtaining them. The question that must be asked is whether the conditions for such an acquisition have improved in recent years, particularly when they are examined in a spatial context.

2.3 Space in the Socialisation Process

The spatial environment, as a context of living and socialisation, has a significant influence on the opportunities of each individual. People who are born in the poor regions of the global South will generally find it harder to live in prosperity than those who grow up in economically and politically privileged environments. Growing up without the ability to satisfy basic needs will make it much more difficult to achieve a proper education, especially if the relevant institutions are not within reach or access to them is restricted. People who lack mobility and live on the periphery of countries with underdeveloped infrastructures are denied essential resources to improve their individual living conditions. Without a doubt, this unequal distribution of employment and educational opportunities of social security and statistically probable prosperity is particularly significant on a global scale. Even though the frame of reference of what is desirable within a given society does qualify the comparisons between the extreme differences on earth to a certain extent, a dramatic inequality of opportunity related to territory cannot be denied. In light of an increasingly globalised perception of “Western” lifestyles, those affected by this inequality are becoming more aware of it as a global form of injustice.

In the cities of developed service societies, unequal access to resources at the small-scale level can initially be conceptualised in a similar way. By correlating social stratification with specific urban neighbourhoods, residential and living spaces of varying quality can be identified. The use of remote educational institutions and recreational infrastructures or contact to other milieus can be complicated and expensive, which ultimately curtails the opportunities of many urban residents outside of their own neighbourhoods. According to Bourdieu, being confined to one's own neighbourhood also limits the chances of capital acquisition: Access to knowledge and educational institutions, to social and cultural capital, depend on one’s location in the urban space.

At the same time, a structural perspective alone, conceptualising space as a container with embedded, unequally distributed resources, is insufficient as an explanation and interpretation of how social differences come into being. It implies a territorialisation of the social sphere where spaces and opportunity relations are fixed in a static and homogenising way. While this perspective highlights the spatial conditioning of action, it does not take into consideration that there already exists a plurality of perceptions and that spaces themselves are to be understood as acts of construction. A more expansive concept of space must also reflect the fact that these spatially unequal conditions of action are controlled from other places and by hidden actors.

Based on a rough differentiation between rich and poor in cities, the following section will therefore discuss a concept of space that—following Hurrelmann and Bourdieu—focuses on the duality of external, in part globally controlled conditions and individual possibilities, of structure and action. Martina Löw’s relational concept of space is helpful in this context: Her sociology of space sees spatial structures as the result of actions on the one hand, while at the same time understanding them as an essential condition for the constitution of space. Partly drawing on Bourdieu, she formulates a broad conceptual framework that offers possibilities for understanding spaces as a (globally) manufactured and regulating structure in the process of social ascent. As a next step, Bourdieu’s explanations on space as reproducing “site effects” will be addressed. Based on a synthesis of the theories of Löw and Bourdieu, taking into account their commonalities as well as their differences, the final aim will be a detailed presentation of the fundamental obstacles to the acquisition of capital in the context of a relational understanding of space.

2.3.1 Segregated Social Spaces

Several classic studies on the spatial distribution of population groups in urban space—including the Chicago School as well as Georg Simmel’s urban sociology or Friedrich Engel’s view of urban class society—have illustrated how urban populations worldwide can be differentiated according to various criteria such as lifestyle, age and social status. With these and other ways of distinguishing populations in urban space, the current discourse puts a strong emphasis on socio-economic fault lines: Socio-spatial polarisation processes in the major cities of Europe and the Western world find their current expression in terms such as “citadels for the rich”, gated communities and privatised, exclusive spaces on the one hand, and islands of poverty, ghettos of social exclusion and a periphery of the “urban underclass” on the other. While talk of the “dual” or “divided city” may seem exaggerated with regard to wealthy countries, it does point to a development process explained above as a phenomenon of increasing inequality in the post-industrial age. The connection between social and spatial privilege (or lack thereof) can now be conceptualised in both directions: An individual’s place of residence is primarily an expression of their available budget, their class and their individual dispositions. Conversely, a person’s place of residence has a strong influence on their opportunities and social advancement. While socialisation plays a major role in the search for the preferred object as a filter of what is desirable and feasible and as the result of options for action, the chosen residential location and form of housing, for their part, provide contextual and compositional factors that have a strong influence on socialisation. With reference to Bourdieu’s types of capital, it is thus a question, on the one hand, of their use for the individual realisation of the residential function and, on the other hand, of the opportunities for appropriating capital in the context of a given residential location.

In recent years, findings on socio-spatial polarisation, segregation and exclusion tendencies have gained additional significance (OECD 2018, p. 20ff.; Cucca and Ranci 2017; De Maio and Benjamins 2021). On the one hand, current processes of economic division, described above as a consequence of unequal opportunities of participation, employment and other means of acquisition (including inheritance), can directly be applied to the urban space, where the different means available to the population dictate the residential function depending on the neighbourhood. In addition to economic capital, however, academic degrees, positions and social contacts can also influence an individual’s choices regarding housing type and location. Temporary employment or even unemployment, lack of assistance from third parties, lack of references or the inability to make a convincing presentation at the first contact interview can highlight the additional relevance of cultural and social capital.

On the other hand, the conditions of the post-Fordist transformation process itself must be related to cities and placed in the context of globalisation. Global capitalism creates a situation of intense competition between all locations below the nation-state level, especially cities as centres of economic activity. While it has already been addressed how economic deregulation and flexibilisation and the structural change caused by them impact employment and social security systems, the capacity for successful transformation has a strong influence on the urban system itself. Traditional locations of industrial production, which are losing jobs, inhabitants and attractiveness due to a lack of competitiveness, exist side-by-side with prospering production and service regions with high population growth. The economic status of a city is reflected in its population structure as well as its employment and wealth situation and, importantly, determines the real estate market. Here, the bet on rising returns is also taking place in a global arena, with international investors looking to commercialise the urban space. In recent years, privatisation, rezoning and modernisation have led to a new wave of gentrification, amounting to an income-based division of the population. In an attempt to counter the displacement of lower-income segments of the population, municipal representatives criticise the sale of social housing to private investors, more or less successfully seeking to create affordable housing in the face of budget consolidation and a growing influx of new inhabitants. They find themselves in a heated market environment that has given a strong boost to real estate prices thanks to a long-standing policy of low interest rates. Not surprisingly, residential segregation is particularly advanced in high-demand metropolitan areas (Musterd et al. 2017; Haandrikman et al. 2023).

In a functional sense as well, places with high-quality services, with control and management functions, produce a coexistence of rich and poor. Sassen (1994, 2001) has demonstrated in her well-known studies that social polarisation is structurally inherent in cities where globally operating companies have their headquarters. Attached to high-paying jobs in the corporate headquarters of finance, law or high-tech companies are always fields of activity supporting these processes with more basic services. Catering, cleaning or transportation are just a few areas of a low-wage sector that are indispensable for the functioning of global cities. Consequently, high-income earners exist side by side with low-income earners, which the cityscape reflects in the dualism of very different residential locations and an equally polarised demand for leisure facilities—from golf courses to gambling halls, fancy boutiques to mass merchandisers, luxury restaurants to fast-food chains. This shaping of space driven from the outside, resulting from international capital flows, global location decisions and related demand structures is displacing the traditional and once-stable connections between local employer and wage-dependent residential location. At a global level, market-based patterns of usage are being established, which affect the supply of labour locally and at the same time have an impact on the individual availability of space. As a result, the development of rents and land prices no longer lies solely in the hands of the municipality concerned. International investors are redefining the relationship between public and private space across large distances, and mobile populations, telematics and deindustrialisation are creating new spatial arrangements. As is becoming more and more evident, digitalisation leads to significant workspace shifts from the periphery to metropolitan centres with specific urban focal points where skilled employees in creative professions find the best location conditions for the emerging new economy (Florida et al. 2017). Increasingly, social spaces are the result of a complex interplay of a wide variety of factors that make up the attractiveness of a location in the post-industrial age.

Furthermore, in the context of unbounded competition, cities increasingly define their attractiveness beyond the realm of traditional location policy. This entails image campaigns, attempts to exploit future-oriented themes and stressing one’s uniqueness. What newly created landmarks, ambitious revitalisation measures, the upgrading of the waterfront and costly cultural projects have in common is that they usually require private capital, with the commercial aspect always playing a role. At the same time, they fulfil their significance best in a central location. In this way, they make a city shine in places where capital is already concentrated or where the investors would like to see it spread (with a gentrifying effect). While urban planners in Europe and the United States have made attempts at constructional improvements in structurally weak urban areas, none of their measures have made a real difference when it comes to levelling the contrast between the wealthy centres and the potentially poor periphery. Although urban development in Europe and the United States can point to various constructional upgrading efforts in structurally weak urban areas, the examples are hardly conducive to fundamentally breaking up the contrast between prosperous centre and partially poor periphery. In many cases, the successful transformation of a disadvantaged neighbourhood through building and infrastructural measures has been achieved at the price of rising rents. It confronts the established residents with a desirable living environment and new jobs which they themselves cannot take advantage of due to a lack of qualifications and income. Sooner or later they are displaced, which reorganises the city's social structure without achieving a spatial reconciliation of social contrasts (Altrock and Kunze 2017; Dangschat 2017). The result is a solidification of a population distribution in the urban area that, for all the diversity of cities, nevertheless reveals social clusters and rough patterns. Castel formulates a tripartite division of society, dividing it into “zones of integration, vulnerability, and exclusion”. Applied to concrete cities, these zones are empirically proven to have different spatial layouts and distributions across the urban space (for an overview, see Gornig and Goebel 2013, p. 57ff). The zone of integration comprises neighbourhoods with a population that is largely secure economically and well-connected within its milieu. The zone of vulnerability, on the other hand, concentrates neighbourhood residents whose employment security (and other economic security) is no longer guaranteed in the long run (Castel 2000). Siebel (2012, p. 467), referring to Castel, describes it as an extremely heterogeneous zone with a growing number of single-person households, a large number of atypically employed people and people in situations of transition. It is characterised by high fluctuation and acts as a catch-all for the urban population spectrum. The zone of vulnerability comprises people who, thanks to their cultural and social capital, are able to move up into the zone of integration, as well as those in living situations that are threatened by relegation. Thirdly, the zone of exclusion concentrates those urban residents who are in most cases permanently excluded from gainful employment or who are, at best, sporadically employed in low-paid jobs. Social contacts are few and predominantly with people from their own class. Of course every city is different and factors such as political influence, cultural conditions, topography, the housing layout depending on the size of the living units, inner-city abandonments or a specific location or traffic situation have to be taken into account, yet the growing social segmentation in urban space remains an undeniable fact (Kronauer and Siebel 2013; Quillian and Lagrange 2016).

According to this characterisation, the segmented city, as a solidified spatial distribution of types of use and populations, evokes various associations with the prevailing spatial environments: Visually appealing, well-kept, with lots of green spaces on the one hand, and a concreted, highly condensed and unsettled environment on the other. While such contrasts imply advantages and disadvantages in the everyday life of the inhabitants related to a different quality of life, their significance for an individual’s opportunities of advancement goes even deeper. Beyond differences related to the aesthetic quality of buildings or everyday life, it is necessary to analyse the quality of the (urban) living and socialisation context and their reproductive effect, either in an enabling or restricting manner. The structures that create different conditions for individuals or, more generally, for milieus, must be related to the respective options for action. Understanding these urban structures also includes the question of their constitution in an interconnected world.

2.3.2 Social Inequality in Relational Space

Cities are not the result of a natural evolution, but of decisions. The unequal distribution of population groups in (urban) space has been presented as a resource-dependent process. In the competition for space, a market economy will see financially strong actors prevailing over financially weak ones, while the government provides a framework through laws, guiding principles and concepts of development. Physical structures that emerge in a city—such as the building of houses, the setting up of apartments, stores and offices, the demand for infrastructure and the use of leisure opportunities—are the result of actions in space. Furthermore, cities are the result of the power and capital resources available to each and the ability to not only occupy a specific place (e.g., as a homeowner or business owner), but also to shape it. Those who can use their social capital to exert influence in the city administration, who know someone who provides them with critical information, or who have a decisive influence on the design of a business district due to their economic capital, can more easily change the structures of a city than those who have very little power to influence the development of these structures. They have to find housing in the niches left over by the market or settle for low-paid jobs that leave them with fewer opportunities for participation and design. However, in order to understand the city as an allocation system of different opportunities (Häußermann and Siebel 2004, p. 117), it is essential to exert some influence over the potentials and to bring together the conditions that determine the possibilities of influence, thereby relating action and structure to each other. As will be shown, it is particularly via space that this process of relating becomes plausible: As a condition of action as well as an outcome thereof, it is crucial for the explanation of social differences and their reproduction.

In sociology, Martina Löw (2016, originally published in German in 2001) has elaborated a sociology of space; the main features of which will be considered in more detail below. Löw understands space as “a relational arrangement of social goods and people (living beings) at places” (Ibid., p. 188). Löw’s central concept of arrangement ([An]Ordnung), simultaneously emphasises “order” (Ordnung) as a structural dimension as well as the process of putting in place (Anordnen), representing the dimension of action. It is social actors who carry out this arrangement, and their possibilities for action essentially depend on which material and symbolic factors they are confronted with and which resources for action are available. Löw distinguishes two processes involved in the constitution of space: “spacing” and “operation of synthesis”. Spacing refers to the act of placing social goods and people as well as symbolic markers in certain locations. Common examples would be the construction of houses, the design of interiors or the surveying of boundaries. Every individual’s act of synthesis taking place simultaneously makes it possible that goods and people can be related to each other and combined into spaces. This happens through processes of perception, imagination or memory (Ibid., p. 134ff). The multiple individual spatial references that now become possible are limited by routines in Löw’s sociology of space. In line with Giddens and Bourdieu, Löw points out that routines reproduce social institutions and habitualise a person’s actions. The habitual repetition of everyday actions results in a recursive reproduction of social structures. Similarly, routines and institutions result in spaces that can be described above the individual level and are generally accepted, ensuring regulated cooperation between people. Thus, a city consists of relatively stable and functionally directive spaces both externally (e.g., traffic areas, stores, cemeteries) and internally (e.g., theatre halls, restrooms, dressing rooms), described by Löw as “institutionalized spaces”. They are those spaces “in which the arrangement has effect beyond one’ s own action and results in conventional operations of synthesis and spacing. As an institutionalized arrangement, space becomes an objectivation, which means that it is experienced as objective though it is a product of human activity” (Ibid., p. 139).

Löw understands “spatial structures” as part of the social structure, existing side by side with other structures (political, economic, legal). Picking up on Giddens’ (1984) definition of structure, arrangements of people and social goods into spaces are called spatial structures if they are codified in rules or secured by resources and recursively stored in institutions independent of place and time (Ibid., p. 145, p. 190). While rules serve to establish meaning and sanctions, resources address means of power. Institutions are permanent regularities of social action. They can refer to behaviour, conventions or the enforcement of rules. The process of constituting spatial structures is recursive because they are continually recreated from underlying rules and resources. With these components, Löw assigns a socially produced efficacy to the concept of spatial structures that implies further consolidation, without ever ruling out the possibility of creeping or radical change. Löw turns Giddens’ “duality of structure” into a “duality of space”: Spatial structures are produced by action and have an effect on action; they enable action and restrict possibilities of action.

In order to illustrate the mechanisms of social segregation in Löw’s sense as an interplay of space and society, we will consider a fictitious, centrally located square in the centre of a city as an example. As an institutionalised space, this square offers various uses to the urban population (e.g., as a meeting place and place of exchange), the realisation of which (through demand, mode of use and constant designation) again reproduces the spatial structure of the square. For decades, all parts of society across all milieus frequented this square, ideally giving it the function of an agora. One day, however, the redesign of the square by a municipal authority (“spacing” as a structural upgrade) results in the decrease of the square’s attractiveness for the lower classes, as the changed look results in processes of alienation and a gradual change in the user structure sets in. The effect of the spatial structure now undergoes a profound change: As the preferred meeting place of the predominantly affluent urban population, the purpose of the square changes and is updated on a daily basis by certain groups and milieus using it (and by the absence of lower-status segments of the population). While the continuity of the new spatial structure is guaranteed in the longer term also by the resources of its new users and, moreover, follow-up investments by the private sector in the vicinity of the square take effect, the options for action of the former visitors are severely limited. To them, this square as a place of exchange, information and capital acquisition is lost, even in the absence of any physical barriers. Due to the lack of social connection points and the changes in what is offered, continued use is no longer an option for them. The newly created space now pre-structures the actions of its visitors in a different way, the altered composition of the square’s users taking on a fundamental significance.

This example could be carried even further, as in a gentrification process of entire neighbourhoods undertaken by private actors, a “spacing” that directly removes the power of disposal over a place from those affected by physical barriers, and the coupling of spatial with new legal structures (privatisation of public spaces). In any case, it is clear conceptually that the perspective adopted by Löw and the analytical tools she uses bring the social relevance of space into focus. To clarify the meaning of spaces even further, Löw also focuses on their symbolism (Ibid., p. 161ff) as well as processes of perception and the effects of atmospheres (Ibid., p. 171ff). In line with the overall relational approach, these dimensions are also relevant as a condition and a result of individual action. They impact categories of belonging and foreignness, create closeness and distance, can empower and inhibit and feed into processes of distinction. With reference to the above example, the social rededication of the square will become more intense and permanent to the extent that these invisible spatial references support collective demarcations.

Central ideas found in Bourdieu’s logic of reproduction as described above fit well into Löw’s relational concept of space and are partly taken up by her: The availability of social, economic and cultural capital is essential to the process of arranging. The example of the urban square makes it clear that the change in the spatial structure was first initiated by the public sector with available resources and largely within the framework of the given material conditions. Already at this point the question could be asked to what extent the local decision-makers were influenced by representatives of the respective milieus and whether the intervention, declared to be in the general interest, did not originate from the specific ideal of a group that was able to take over the power of discourse and design due to its capital endowment. The subsequent transformation of the square is characterised by the dominance of a group with a specific capital endowment. Their distinction through all types of capital (expensive clothing, labels, the use of exclusive consumer articles, the form of communication, etc.) leaves the former visitors of the square with few options of access. At the same time, it allows the new users to assure themselves of their own milieu. It serves as a reservoir for further capital accumulation, in particular by initiating contacts within the milieu.

From the point of view of the displaced inhabitants, on the other hand, the square loses its significance. Beyond the altered arrangement, the once familiar social space has given way to an atmosphere consisting of different components of unfamiliarity affecting all the senses. The prevailing mode of communication or unfamiliar odours alone (e.g., through the use of perfume as a means of distinction) might be sufficient to cause effective distancing. Shunned by the lower classes, the square loses its function as a place of education and socialisation as well as of capital acquisition, and as a contact exchange across classes. For the displaced, the internalisation of its specific irrelevance and the retreat into contexts close to their own milieu lead to a loss of orientations and stimuli relevant for upward mobility. The square they once frequented on an almost daily basis might disappear completely from their radar, negatively affecting the possibility of constituting space there and beyond due to the loss of resources. Instead, they settle in the socially familiar contexts of the city (e.g., socially disadvantaged and peripheral neighbourhoods), which in turn promotes a constitution of space that has a reproducing effect on its residents. In areas with more options for design, as in the context of personal property, this constitution of space is an expression of a class-specific internalisation. This spatial structure can then be understood and appreciated in a rather class-specific way, without the recognition of status-unrelated groups.

The habitualisation of a specific spatial structure consequently regulates the possibilities of acquiring capital in various ways and reproduces the options for action in a class-specific way. Against this background, the examination of the individual potential for the constitution of space becomes extremely important. Those in need of access, however, lack resources and awareness, as habitus pre-structures the perception of spaces along with their opportunities and deprivations. In Löw’s terms, habitus influences the “spacing” and the “operation of synthesis”.

While instead of Bourdieu’s forms of capital, she uses Kreckel’s (1992) related dimensions, and Löw assigns a similarly central importance to space for capital acquisition (Löw 2016, p. 177ff). The reproductive power of habitus is central to her sociology of space, though instead of milieus she chooses gender and class (Ibid., p. 146ff, p. 159) as structural principles of a society. She repeatedly emphasises that social stratification processes are strongly influenced by spatial structures: “The reproduction of social inequality is systematically possible and does occur at every level of the constitution of space. Structural principles such as class and gender permeate all levels of constitution and are instrumental in establishing advantages and disadvantages, exclusion and inclusion” (Ibid., p. 177).

Conceptually, Löw’s relational understanding of space helps comprehend how spaces as arrangements can multiply and also how they can be isolated or produced in the form of global networks. With reference to Sassen, she traces the constitution of global cities, a phenomenon which can only really be grasped in the context of a virtually supported linkage structure (Ibid., p. 82ff). At this point, however, it must be asked how this virtual part of space itself can be explained by processes of action. Löw does not clarify whether this process of constitution is also to be understood as structure-forming and structure-reproducing and how the online and offline (spatial) structures differ from each other. She is right in basing her relational argument in the virtual space, but fails to explore the complexity of virtual spatiality in the same way. Yet it is precisely virtual space that seems to empower action in an unimagined way and could thus remove the obstacles to acquiring capital in real space.

In order to pursue this perspective further, the reproducing spatial structures in real space must be put in more concrete terms and aligned with Bourdieu’s logic of reproduction. Relating Bourdieu’s and Löw’s explanations on space, the goal is to compare the limiting structures of physical space with the opportunities of virtual space.

2.3.3 Neighbourhood and Site Effects

Understood relationally, space is an expression of spacing and operation of synthesis that exposes countless perspectives, which have not only favoured but probably also complicated Löw’s reception. Space can be understood in different qualities, temporal permanence or size; it can exist abstractly, in concrete physical terms, in an overlapping or extremely volatile state. In order to identify basic patterns of spatial regimentation in the socialisation process, the following section will take a generalised look at the segregated urban space and how it favours certain groups while putting others at a disadvantage in different neighbourhoods. The different living conditions, considered above in general and more in detail following Löw, are expressed in neighbourhood or site effects (Bourdieu 1999). This is not to ignore individual perceptions and strategies of appropriation and action, but they are subordinated to a generalising description of the structure.

When inhabitants of a city choose a place of residence (based on the capital available), they become part of spatial structures which have a huge influence on the opportunities of capital acquisition, even more so than legal, economic or political structures. Unlike the public square described above, which is visited for a short time, the place of residence with its functions is a permanent point of reference in everyday life. Its significance as a context of socialisation goes far beyond the residential environment itself, as all activities are related to it in terms of the space of action and as a synthesis of the city. In terms of generally negative neighbourhood effects, there are direct disadvantages related to housing and its surroundings: Confined housing conditions, inadequate equipment or poor accessibility (Kronauer and Vogel 2004). In addition, disadvantaged urban neighbourhoods are characterised by neglected buildings, a negative appearance of the neighbourhood as well as infrastructural deficiencies, which includes the equipment of local places of encounter, green spaces or playgrounds and sports fields.

In this context of socialisation, the discrimination of neighbourhood residents already takes hold in childhood, when the physical environment is explored, and its relative deficiencies and shortcomings are internalised as normal and given. Lack of safety, confinement, decay and other manifestations of social inequality leave a mental imprint, shape the imagination and define individual possibilities. Since the family as the primary place of socialisation is also affected by the disadvantages of the neighbourhood, through its interaction it indirectly confronts the child with the environment and the consequences of its deficiencies (stress, fear, illness, deprivation) (Ecarius et al. 2011). In adolescence, the influence of the neighbourhood on its young population continues with lower-quality schools and peer groups possessing only those dispositions and visions that correspond to the familiar environment (Ainsworth 2002; Lauen 2016). Compared to privileged urban neighbourhoods, the awareness of one's status in a spatially disadvantaged context can negatively impact the self-image and perpetuate into adulthood. Recurrent feelings of exclusion are also a result of the physical environment of the neighbourhood and the living environment (Blasius et al. 2008, p. 112ff).

With the influence of neighbourhood residents on socialisation, the material dimension of detrimental neighbourhood effects gains a social dimension: In segregated neighbourhoods, social networks are largely homogeneous, which commonly inhibits the motivation to improve one’s own situation. Children and adolescents seldom come into contact with social roles that represent alternative life paths beyond their own class. Instead, adolescents and young adults growing up in problem-ridden social contexts often strongly identify with the prevailing conditions. As a result, language and topics of interest, forms of recognition and life goals are established within the milieu and, over time, show fewer and fewer points of contact with the wealthier classes in other neighbourhoods. A partial exodus of the more capital-rich population segments that could offer incentives and other options contributes to a further homogenisation of the neighbourhood. Because of the architectural unattractiveness and the reputation related to the milieu, the influx from outside often remains limited to certain population groups. The effects of this symbolic discrimination are even more far-reaching by curtailing the opportunities for social participation of the residents. Even before the lack of experience, conventions and contacts referred to above could come into play, decisions about who gets the job or the apprenticeship are often based on a person’s place of origin and address.

Bourdieu relates neighbourhood effects to the social space described by him. While this is “…not the physical space, it tends to realise itself and in a more or less exact and complete way within it” (Bourdieu 1991, p. 28). Based on the unequal distribution of capital in society, he uses his own terminology to explain why certain privileged neighbourhoods enable further capital accumulation through “spatial profits”, while disadvantaged neighbourhoods severely limit opportunities for capital acquisition and social advancement (Ibid., p. 31ff; 1999, p. 127f). Taken together, Bourdieu's examination of physical (urban) space as it is occupied by different milieus results in a hypothesis of perpetuation that attributes different “average probabilities” (Bourdieu 1991, p. 31) of further capital appropriation to the respective residential areas and that consolidates social difference on the basis of the mechanisms described. One of Bourdieu's main arguments for this perpetuation is the lack of knowledge of how to act adequately in spaces outside one’s own class. As exemplified by the social reinterpretation of the central square, the physical accessibility of a place does not automatically include access to its resources. When someone lacks the education to successfully explore a museum, or the cultural capital to make contact in a distinguished residential area, it will be very difficult for them to acquire new cultural or social capital. Consequently, spatial convergence and social convergence do not automatically go together. “It is quite possible to physically occupy a residential area without actually and strictly residing in it; namely, if one does not have the tacitly required means to do so, beginning with a certain habitus” (Ibid.). When appropriation is not possible, people will ultimately stay away from areas outside of their own class, and in the long run this will have an influence on what they consider possible and desirable. Because of this field logic analysed by Bourdieu, people do not make use of what is outside of their milieu even when and if the ideal of a “social city” as devised by city planners and politicians, offering access to options for capital acquisition in different places, is realised. So, the same mechanism discussed above regarding educational systems is repeated here in real space.

This segmentation is further solidified by privileged residents sticking together, as they reassure each other of their capital resources and emphasise their separateness from those below them. Bourdieu uses the term “club effect” to describe these concentrations, caused in particular by economic and symbolic capital, “…of people and things that are similar in that they are different from the great mass, who have in common not to be common” (Ibid., p. 32). In contrast, the “ghetto effect” works against any advancement, as it collectively stigmatises neighbourhood residents, impeding advancement to other classes. Bourdieu uses exemplary urban spaces to stress this polarisation, referring to them as “posh neighbourhoods” or “luxury residential areas” on the one hand and “ghettos” or “a kind of reservation” for the poor on the other. Such contrasts can certainly be found in cities across Europe or North America, together with the manifestations of capital endowment: The successful lawyer living in an upper-middle-class Gründerzeit apartment furnished with works of art, who, in addition to the people in his neighbourhood, meets friends to visit classical concerts, gains distinction from the careful selection of his clothing and elite manners and who also maintains social distance in his practice of leisure sports and the choice of all his places of consumption. At a social and spatial distance from him, there is the single mother living in a large housing estate on the outskirts of the city. Due to insufficient income, her life focuses on the mere organisation and management of everyday life, and because of spatial, temporal, financial reasons as well as a difference in interests, there are no stimuli from outside her own class. This dualism makes the logic of a double (dis-)advantage particularly vivid, which, beyond the difference in the quality of life, highlights the unequal opportunity for capital acquisition available in the two spheres: The lawyer’s milieu (as in the case of the rededicated square) offers him the possibility to expand his social network among professionals in higher positions, to update the relevant codes for upward mobility in all areas of life through everyday contact and, last but not least, to consolidate his position through economic capital. The single mother, on the other hand, finds herself in a living environment where social capital, education, taste and manners are passed on within the milieu, making it all but impossible to access resources relevant for advancement. However, such exemplary juxtapositions should not result in a reductionist understanding that relates the problem of social stratification only to extremes. Bourdieu himself repeatedly emphasised the hierarchisation of all fields of capital deployment and acquisition and the resulting hierarchisation of physical space, which objectifies and reproduces social space. “In the relationship between the distribution of actors and the distribution of goods in space, the respective value of the different regions of the reified social space is manifested” (Bourdieu 1999).

2.3.4 Capital Locations and Their Selective Accessibility

While Bourdieu’s approach is useful for exploring social inequality as an interplay of social position, incorporation, lifestyle and corresponding spatial profits, the question remains—as mentioned in the introduction—whether his evaluation of physical space as reified social space is appropriate. In his discussion of Bourdieu, Schroer (2006, p. 100ff) suggests that social space does not necessarily have to fit into physical space. Not only does this result in questionable pre-categorizations by assuming an automatic connection between spatial phenomena and social conditions, but it also suggests a certain inertia with regard to social change. In the context of a stable urban arrangement, the persistence of physical space must ultimately negate existing processes of ascent and descent of individuals. Conversely, change in real space does not necessarily have to go hand in hand with social change. While social space as an expression of a capital-dependent struggle for position still functions in a relational perspective, its materialisation carries the danger of a reification of the social (cf. also Deffner and Haferburg 2012, p. 168). As a result, the social construction of spaces threatens to lose its meaning, and an alternative interpretation of existing spatial arrangements becomes impossible (Schroer 2006, p. 102).

A possible solution is offered by Löw’s dualistic conception which understands space as a condition and consequence of its constitution. She conceptualises action as dependent on symbolic and material factors in each situation, which are themselves also the result of actions (Löw 2016, p. 161ff). When evaluating opportunities of capital acquisition, walls, distances or confined housing conditions undoubtedly constitute essential structures that must be factored into the analysis of possibilities for action, even if they themselves are also products that are multiplied in the context of individual dispositions. Coming back to the above-mentioned example of the square, its social efficacy certainly emanates from the actors and their means of distinction, while at the same time it would not be conceivable without the specific materiality of the square. The rededication of the square also makes it clear that change is always possible—in this case, resulting from the interplay of physical intervention and social interaction. Furthermore, in the process of arranging, synthesis and spacing are always tied to natural conditions as well: “Where there is no river, it cannot be included in the constitution of space” (Ibid., p. 161).

The problem with this understanding is that it includes a major inconsistency in comparison with Bourdieu’s concept of space: The reciprocity described here does not include his juxtaposition of a metaphorically deployed social space and the appropriated physical space. While in social space, social processes are carried out and change is possible, in Bourdieu’s understanding physical space merely absorbs these processes. As physical space is not considered as something that can influence social action, the structuring effect of spaces can only be thought of in terms of the aforementioned reinforcement effects (e.g., club effect), but not as something that has a fundamental influence on human action. Spaces that result from action cannot be compared to society as an outcome, but are to be understood as part of this process. Löw herself clearly expresses the discrepancy on this point: “Bourdieu’s equation of structures with ‘principles of class society’ make it systematically impossible to study spatial structures as social phenomena. In this model of thinking, space and society are opposed to each other, whereby only society seems to shape space, not vice versa spaces pre-structure social processes” (Ibid., p. 141). There are many approaches in socialisation and education studies, particularly in the fields of environmental or architectural psychology (Hellbrück and Fischer 1999; Bär 2008) or also in the examination of a materially designed learning environment (Petmecky 2008), that have the physical-material environment as their starting point. If we modify Bourdieu's dictum, according to which the “habitat follows the habitus” (Bourdieu 1991, p. 32; cf. also Bourdieu and Wacquant 2013, p. 262), and also consider the reverse conclusion, it is possible to fit Bourdieu's logic of reproduction into the broad framework of Löw’s sociology of space.

Löw herself makes repeated use of Bourdieu’s concepts regarding habitus and the logic of reproduction, understanding it primarily as a factor in the constitution of space and less as a condition for social participation in space. Her chapter on “Space and Social Inequality” (Löw 2016, p. 177ff) breaks down the opportunities to constitute space according to wealth, knowledge, rank and association. On the side of action, it highlights the unequal opportunities to constitute space, while also suggesting that there are attributions and atmospheric qualities inherent in the outcome that produce effects of inclusion and exclusion, again coupled with different possibilities for space constitution (Ibid., p. 180f). This addresses essential conditions for capital acquisitions on a general level, as every constitution process ultimately results in built structures, produces instituionalised spaces and causes processes of exclusion and perception; it does not, however, offer a clear view of the (produced) structures and the opportunities and restrictions they entail. The focus of this section is not the creation of these social structures, but the opportunities of acquiring education and rising socially within them, from the perspective of the agent and under the aspect of accessibility.

For the discussion of the facilitating and limiting structures for capital acquisition (economic, social, cultural), three dimensions of a spatial influence are distinguished in the form of synthesis. These focus on both the physical and social accessibility of resources, summarising the aspects of regimentation addressed in Löw’s and Bourdieu’s relational and reproductive understandings, respectively. The focus is on the acting subject, whose possibilities of action and of acquiring capital depend on the respective habitus as well as the resources available. Physically bound to one’s quarter or temporally to several places (action spaces), he is faced in spatial terms with a specific opportunity structure, which has been described with its neighbourhood and site effects and their numerous amplifications. Based on the ideal of social advancement and with a limited degree of mobility, he is confronted with fundamental obstacles in real space when it comes to obtaining capital:

First, access to resources that are relevant for advancement is physically regulated. From the point of view of the low-capital milieus, the acquisition of cultural and social capital presupposes contact points that convey codes relevant for upward mobility and rules of behaviour and facilitate networks across social milieus. The growing privatisation and regulation of urban space makes it more and more difficult to gain access to places and people and, to quote Lefebvre, raises the question of the “right to the city” (Holm and Gebhard 2011; Harvey 2008). Numerous levels of a limitation of action spaces can be identified—from bouncers at restaurants to fenced-in gated communities—largely relegating the capital-poor segments of the population to the (diminished) opportunity structure of their own neighbourhood. For an understanding of the selective accessibility of (urban) space it is significant that its constitution can take place over great distances. While Löw provides the conceptual framework with her relational perspective, she does not delve further into the agency of external actors, whose spacing and operation of synthesis through investments, location decisions, political influence or mobilisation of other actors in the global context and under market economy conditions have an enabling or limiting effect. According to Löw, the constitution of space is always pre-structured by social structures and the conditions of a situation of action, while these conditions depend to a “not inconsiderable extent on the actions of others” (Löw 2016, p. 163). Such a causal link can easily obscure the fact that the abolition of the principle of spatial proximity facilitates a complex logic of constitution whose cause-effect relationships can no longer be reconstructed. In a global context, the production of the socialisation context is lost (Scheffer and Voss 2008). Bourdieu does not account for the structuring effect of spaces, ignoring any external, global influence on options for action. His focus on capital-dependent positioning in social space and the emphasis on processes of separation, resulting in the occupation of physical localities, leaves no room for the creation of spatial conditions beyond individual positioning. In fact, there is an increasing polarisation when it comes to the accessibility of the resources of physical space, exhibiting different qualities that result not only from the lack of social appropriation on the part of groups that do not belong to a certain milieu, but from an economic concept. Large-scale “spacing” can mean that entry controls, forms of construction with a deterring effect, and locked gates result in a sorting of resources without identifiable actors and explanations. The same applies to the allocation of housing, and with it the opportunity for capital acquisition in a globalised real estate market. While gentrification, displacement and structural change take place within a certain neighbourhood, they can only be explained in the context of a bigger picture. Particularly in cities, the capitalisation of space has progressed to the point where it pre-structures individual opportunities to acquire capital from afar through power and property relations. For the disadvantaged segments of the population, this loss of the ability to understand why they are denied certain resources further curtails their influence on a constitution of space favourable to them.

The selective accessibility of localities with the resources relevant for upward mobility is also owed to the fact that they are too far away for disadvantaged segments of the population. In the urban context, proponents of the so-called mobility paradigm in particular have emphasised the importance of mobility for social constitution in general, stressing in particular the opportunity to overcome distance for obtaining resources (Urry 2007; Sheller 2014). Processes of residential segregation or poor infrastructure and transportation connections mean that someone’s physical location in space carries a great deal of relevance. For people living in the periphery of a city, educational activities such as theatre or museum visits in the city centre involve a much greater effort than for residents of the city centre. The social composition of care and educational facilities is determined by the respective catchment area, and leisure activities are often based on what the residential environment offers. Unequal access to resources is particularly evident when viewing the locations of capital acquisition in a cross-regional perspective. Bourdieu’s (1999) examples are strongly based on the view of the neighbourhood resident with a specific access to urban space. This obscures the fact that social stratification takes place in all spheres of life at different spatial levels involving considerable, socially exclusionary distances: From Aspen to St. Barth, the leisure and vacation industry alone has produced countless enclaves worldwide that, thanks to the homogeneity of their visitors, contribute to a capital increase within the group. The exchange of codes, trends and tastes, the creation of new networks and mutual self-assurance take place here under total exclusion. Their remoteness alone makes these places inaccessible to those who lack economic capital; neither structural barriers nor expensive infrastructure are necessary to prevent curious outsiders from entering the spheres where Bourdieu's club effects take effect. A spacing guaranteeing exclusivity for both the supply and demand side reproduces these club effects through spatial and social distancing.

Second, the use of resources is always socially pre-structured by the ability to perceive them. As has been repeatedly emphasised with reference to Bourdieu, access to the socio-spatial opportunity structure of a city is subject to the dispositions of habitus. The awareness itself that the opportunity for capital acquisition is unequally distributed spatially and that any conscious appropriation requires first and foremost the perception of profitable contact fields in the urban space, varies between individuals and classes. Recent publications on spatial and social mobility, therefore, analyse the influence of socialisation and education on the perception of spaces, placing their accessibility in the context of an individual’s mobility in relation to their biography (Holz-Rau and Scheiner 2015). Hurrelmann's productive reality processing as a permanent confrontation with inner reality clearly emphasises the physical and social environment in the socialisation process (Hurrelmann and Bauer 2018). The active and independent appropriation of space (as part of the appropriation of external reality), which increases over time as the radius of action grows, has an effect on personality in that it affects a person’s mobility (Döring 2015). In this process, socio-spatial experiences create individual templates of perception that can recursively encourage mobility and open up specific sites of capital acquisition, or—conversely—limit everyday actions to a framework that lacks resources relevant for upward mobility. Sufficient reference has been made to unequal socialisation conditions based on the family environment, residential location and amenities, numerous site effects and differences in mobility. It goes without saying that the way we perceive spatially distant things and contexts is fundamentally different from the way we perceive what is near to us. For the appropriation of (spatially distant) resources, however, this difference in perception resulting from a peripheral residential location or the ritualised frequenting of places far from capital, is crucial. As analyses from social psychology show, spatial distance is associated with a high degree of mental abstraction. It diminished the ability to grasp circumstances in a concrete and contextual way (e.g., Henderson et al. 2011). Without spatial approximation, a perceptual overgeneralisation of the “world of others” takes place, making the specific logic of recognition and exchange unintelligible to urban residents from other neighbourhoods. In contrast, those who are in the right space can perceive the system in a way that increases capital.

Löw, who devotes a separate section to perception, also emphasises the selectivity of perception as a function of habitus, education and socialisation (Löw 2016, p. 166). The perceptual activity of the person doing the constituting encompasses all senses that are activated when social goods and other people are exposed to the outside world (Ibid., p. 161). This means that beyond the visual perception of the material, there are also olfactory, haptic or acoustic impressions that influence the constitution of space. In relation to the restrictions in the process of capital acquisition, this once again addresses the habitually internalised perceptual filters and relevance criteria that make it easier or more difficult for individuals to register relevant spaces as such (operation of synthesis) or to influence spaces through actions in a way that promotes capital (spacing). As mentioned in the example of the rededicated square, it is not only physical objects but also smells or atmospheres that create distinction or create rejection and exclusion.

As a third point, social accessibility as a further restriction on capital acquisition shall be highlighted. As elaborated by Bourdieu, lack of access results from the lack of being able to use a spatially accessible offer of resources with the dispositions available. Here, habitus does not refer specifically to perception, but to the respective behavioural patterns, preferences and relevance criteria, which in many cases cannot connect to the socio-spatial conditions of a locality, or do so insufficiently. The expectations that everyone there is confronted with, whether in terms of language, dress or the concerns and interests presented, prevent meaningful contact if they are not met (e.g., Bourdieu 1991, p. 32). On the basis of his numerous examples, Bourdieu suggests that the capital-dependent segmentation of (urban) space with its implicit specifications regarding habitus is not limited to luxury or poor neighbourhoods, but in principle takes effect at all levels (especially Bourdieu 1999). For the capital-rich milieus, expensive stores, hotels, parks and exclusive leisure facilities could be mentioned in addition to educational institutions, museums, casinos and theatres. Even though they are open to the public, their use takes place in a very selective manner, as people lack the interest and cultural capital to be able to understand and appropriate the resources available there. Regardless of all further possibilities of differentiating such places, in the current moment the question could always be asked whether these specific expectation contexts must necessarily coincide with access to capital. For Bourdieu, the hierarchisation of space and the unequal distribution of capital has an official high culture as its norm, while specific offers beyond this norm may also promise capital acquisition (see also Schroer 2006, p. 105). Following this idea, well-paid fields of work in the creative sector could also be named for the present, which connect precisely to subcultural contexts and which can reward alternative or improvised lifestyles. Their codes and expectations toward outsiders might be less strict or show a greater tolerance for deviance. However, broader possibilities of connection for a disadvantaged urban population do not contradict Bourdieu’s fundamental thesis, according to which permanent processes of demarcation reproducing the habitus occur in different social fields. This demarcation is not overcome by spatial proximity. Rather, a more intense contact in places outside one’s own milieu makes it all the more apparent that stable social and spatial arrangements exist there that make it difficult for outsiders to gain a foothold (see also Berger et al. 2002; Ridgeway 2014). For the acquisition of social capital, Rutten et al. (2010) summarise accordingly: “In sum, the fact that human beings are spatially sticky and the fact that geographical proximity greatly enhances both the frequency and the depth of social interaction make that the norms and values aspect of social capital are spatially sticky as well. This aspect of social capital, therefore, is very difficult to tap into for outsiders, which makes it a powerful source of local competitive advantage” (Rutten et al. 2010, p. 869).

Several further effects can result from the above-mentioned three restrictions. A lack of physical access to certain places undoubtedly affects how they are perceived. Options that are inaccessible in an urban resident’s daily life and are simply non-existent as an external reality, cannot increase social and cultural capital in the socialisation process. The result is the consolidation of a habitus that is less and less able to connect to the resources that are relevant for advancement. Spatial arrangements perpetuate these reproductive patterns, while the possibility of a spatial constitution more conducive to resource acquisition is compromised by habitus and its influence on spacing and operation of synthesis, as well as by the power of other, in some cases global actors.

2.4 Interim Conclusion: The Spatial Deprivation of Opportunities

The disintegration of society into a rich minority on the one hand and growing precariousness on the other, as has been registered for Germany and many other countries, harbours a high potential for conflict especially when it seems to become structurally entrenched. Starting with the proposition that education is the “…most important () basis for the material prosperity of modern societies” (Hradil 2001, p. 149), countless studies document an entrenched inequality of opportunity: Educational success correlates with social background, and social disadvantage pervades across generations. A discussion of inequality of opportunity in education must look at socialisation influences in general, including the reproductive patterns at work. Such an analysis must face a fundamental contradiction: While over the last decades, more and more people have had the chance to shape their own careers, only few have managed to move up in society. While according to Hurrelmann and Bauer (2018), the socialisation process as personality development takes place within the tension-laden framework of external and internal reality; Bourdieu (1983, 1984, 1991) in particular offers a well-established pattern of analysis, with his distinction between the types of capital and the dispositions of the habitus, both as components and products of socialisation: Widely used empirically, it shows how groups and individuals in the social field seek to distinguish themselves from one another through practices and how the validity of the prevailing rules and expectations shape habitus. The latter is expressed in physical and cognitive dispositional patterns that find acceptance only in specific contexts. They work well within a milieu, but set boundaries in relation to others, thus illuminating the logic of social reproduction.

On this basis, it has been argued that it is particularly the spatial context that perpetuates inequality of opportunity. If, in addition, we understand the constitution of spaces as an expression of social processes and focus on their creation through actions, then this resource-dependent constitution performance results in a further dimension of social permanence: The many advantages and disadvantages that exist in (urban) space as a result of the social and physical environment (accessibility, recreational value, contact opportunities, etc.) must then be understood not only as the result of actions, but at the same time as essential conditions for the constitution of space. Looked at from this vantage point, the options for action of the privileged population are further strengthened: Having resources at one’s disposition favours a spatial design that in turn facilitates resource acquisition. By analogy, this applies to disadvantaged population groups with the opposite effect.

The relational understanding of space elaborated in Löw’s Sociology of Space (2016) as the arrangement of living beings and social goods in places constituted by synthesis and spacing accordingly presents space as a dimension of structure and action. Bourdieu’s concept of habitus can be linked to Löw by amplifying his understanding that social processes shape space in the sense that the inverse is also true and spaces pre-structure social processes. Habitus influences perception and possibilities of spacing, while at the same time habitus is formed in the context of physical-material conditions, specific sensory impressions and the social contexts of the spatial environment at different stages of life. The reproduction of social inequality becomes comprehensible if we trace the separation of resources relevant for upward mobility—and this includes all of Bourdieu’s forms of capital—in a spatial perspective. Among disadvantaged milieus, there is a lack of experience, contacts and educational opportunities in many areas of life. In contrast, resources are concentrated around privileged milieus. Spatial separation into contexts of perception and social action that have either a limiting or a promoting effect forces those without access to relate to their own milieus, thus reproducing social differences.

Larger cities in particular exhibit numerous contexts of a specifically perceived, differently effective and unequally accessible opportunity structure at various levels. It is revealed in the apartment building with a doorman, in the image of a neighbourhood, in the available transportation infrastructure, in the distribution of urban educational institutions, in the dress code of a casino or in the numerous addresses, often unknown to the general public, that provide a place of exchange for specific groups. Only by focusing on the ubiquity of concrete and abstract boundaries, of visible and invisible hurdles, can the socially reproducing structure of space be adequately captured.

To summarise, the lack of access to the sites of potential capital acquisition has been described in three dimensions: (a) physical accessibility, where borders, obstructions and spatial distances play a role; (b) the perception of spaces and resources; and (c) social distance in the sense of a lack of compatibility with implicit expectations. All three types of restrictions impact one another and different forms of capital are required to overcome them.

To complicate matters, these regulations are not only owed to the interests and power of actors that can be named and localised, but also to global utilisation contexts. This can affect physical accessibility (a) if, for example, gentrification processes, privatisation measures and the regulation of spaces or job relocations follow chained decisions and obey a global market logic. As a result of the transformation of socialisation contexts, perception and social accessibility (b and c) would be equally affected. We can therefore speak of a cross-border deprivation of spatial opportunities. This type of deprivation, in which the new information and communication technologies play a central role, is something that a single person cannot reconstruct. It creates a certain powerlessness on the already difficult path to acquiring resources relevant for advancement.

However, the idea that in the age of global interdependence, capital acquisition is also dependent on cross-border processes, could also be looked at from a different angle: Couldn’t the new technologies, first and foremost the internet, also create a completely new path to the different types of capital? If we accept the relevance of the restrictions highlighted here in the spatial context, then it is necessary to examine the extent to which they can be overcome with the help of new internet-based options for action.