Harvey M. Jacobs is on the faculty of the University of Wisconsin-Madison, where he holds a joint appointment as professor in the Department of Urban and Regional Planning and the Institute for Environmental Studies and serves as director of the Land Tenure Center. His research and teaching investigate public policy, theory and philosophy for land use and environmental management. During the last decade he has focused his domestic work on the impact of the private property rights movement. He wrote the book Who Owns America? Social Conflict over Property Rights and the Lincoln Institute policy focus report State Property Rights Laws: The Impacts of Those Laws on My Land, and his work has been published in academic and professional journals in the U.S. and Western Europe. Jacobs also has investigated international issues of land use policy formation by national ministries and new local governments in Eastern Europe and southern Africa, with a specific focus on peri-urban (urban fringe) land management and the definition of private property rights. He is particularly interested in how societies define property and the policy structures they develop to manage the public-private property relationship.
Jacobs is a faculty associate of the Lincoln Institute, where he teaches courses for policy makers and practitioners in land use planning and management. He developed a Lincoln course titled “Land Use in America,” originally designed for staff of the Environmental Protection Agency and now available through open enrollment, which he has taught several times in Cambridge. As part of his current education and research project with the Institute, he will lead a seminar in Cambridge in May on the future of private property rights in America, and he is working on another book to be titled Private Property in the 21st Century. This essay outlines his views on the uncertain future of the American ideal of private property rights.
Property Rights and Environmental Planning
Social conflict over property rights is at the center of all U.S. land and environmental planning and policy. One key source of this conflict is the differing interpretations of the so-called Takings Clause of the Fifth Amendment in the Constitution’s Bill of Rights: “. . . nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.”
Those who support the integrity of private property rights and stand against land use and environmental regulation by state and local governments can be understood as participants in one of the most significant U.S. land use and environmental movements of recent times. This movement is referred to by a variety of labels, including the private property rights movement, the land rights movement, the wise use movement and, by the environmental community, the anti-environmental movement. This movement’s leaders have succeeded in keeping their agenda before the U.S. Congress since the early 1990s, though as yet no action has resulted from their efforts. More significantly, they have succeeded in having bills reflecting their agenda introduced in all 50 states, and they have secured the passage of significant legislation in over half of the states. In addition, they have promoted significant parallel activity in over 300 counties. Perhaps most important, they have reshaped public debate on how the media communicates to the American public about issues of land and environmental management, and the balancing of the public good with individual property rights.
The potential power of the property rights movement became even more important after the 2000 elections. While governor of Texas, George W. Bush exhibited strong sympathies to the arguments of the property rights movement and supported state-based legislation in accordance with the movement’s goals. Among his most prominent initial appointments as president were the selection of a secretary of the interior and a solicitor general with explicit ties to the property rights movement and commitments to the property rights issue. These developments, together with renewed activity at the state level, indicate that the property rights movement seems to be alive and well in America. The passage of Measure 7 in the state of Oregon in the fall of 2000 is of particular interest, since this measure is one of the most stringent state property rights laws in what is considered one of the most progressive states in its land use and environmental management policies. The measure, passed by initiative, requires landowners to be compensated if the value of their property is reduced by a state or local law or regulation. It is under state constitutional challenge by land use and environmental groups, and its implementation is being held back until this challenge is settled by the Oregon courts.
Historical Context
Underlying the policy agenda of the property rights movement and the conflict with the land use and environmental movements is a fundamental debate about U.S. history, the cultural myths that inform our understanding of ourselves as a nation, and the intended meanings of selected provisions of the Bill of Rights. From the perspective of the property rights movement, strong individual private property rights are an integral component of our democratic society. Drawing from the writings of the nation’s founders such as John Adams, James Madison and Thomas Jefferson, these proponents argue that liberty, equality and citizenship in a democracy, in fact democracy itself, can not be secured and sustained without a robust set of property rights essentially unassailable by the power of the state. From this perspective, land use and environmental laws become a threat to the very nature of democratic way of life. Richard Epstein, one of the leading legal scholars articulating this view, has suggested that “the [entire] system of land use planning is a form of socialism in microcosm” (Epstein 1992, 202).
In opposition, the land use and environmental movements also draw from the writings of the founders, including Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson, to argue that property rights are created by the public sector to serve social ends, and that citizens’ rights in property have to bend and flex with society’s changing needs over time. Land use and environmental proponents tend to make arguments about rights and responsibilities in property, rather than to see individual rights as preexisting or standing before the rights of society, as expressed through the actions of government.
The historical challenge for this debate is the that private property has been subject to substantial local regulation even since colonial times, and it has been fundamentally reshaped at several times in American history, to reflect changing social values and changing technology. For example, in the 1860s the property ownership rights of slave-owning plantation farmers in the South and in the 1960s the commercial trespass rights of lunch-counter owners were significantly reshuffled to reflect changing social values about race relations. In the early part of the twentieth century it was necessary to reconceptualize the property rights bundle as a function of the invention of the airplane and the seeming nonsense of allowing individual owners to claim trespass for air travel above their property.
Changing Conditions
Social reformulation of private property to reflect changing conditions continues. During the 1990s resistance by male-only membership clubs and male-only colleges to the admission of women was prominent in the media and the courts. Like the prior slavery and civil rights situations, here, too, individuals lost their rights in property, absent compensation, to reflect changing social values.
Thus, we know that private property is not a static concept or entity. In America it has changed since its creation during colonial times, and there is every reason to believe it will continue changing in the future. In fact, for over fifty years some ecologists and land ethicists—most prominently and enduringly Aldo Leopold (1949)—have called for a fundamental reinvention of property, based on new scientific knowledge that is less individual-rights oriented and more oriented toward social and ecological responsibilities.
It is reasonable to say that both sides to this debate have legitimate concerns and perspectives on the issue. Some property rights reforms through land use and environmental planning and policy, when taken too far, do seem to violate fundamental American understandings about the social contract that underlies national life. On the other hand, unassailable bundles of private property rights seem to leave society in a place that does not allow for change through the integration of new technologies, new social values, or new concepts of ourselves and the land on which we live.
Social conflict over property rights is at the center of all U.S. land and environmental planning and policy. However, much of the current scholarly inquiry and legislative and judicial debate that occurs now is formalized posturing, with little real communication around an issue that is one of the most central to our democratic society. Too often, the well-known players trot out their already settled analyses and opinions and wave them at one another. Little real progress occurs, either in intellectual understanding of these matters or in policy innovation.
The goal of my current work is to get key actors to put aside their rancor and agree to talk with one another instead of at one another. Is it possible to move beyond the broad rhetoric in this debate to a determination of clear, specific areas of agreement and disagreement about the place and role of the property rights bundle and the concept of property rights in our American democratic-legal schema? The challenge is twofold: accepting that private property is fundamental to the American character and the design of American democracy, and acknowledging that private property has changed significantly through the centuries and thus will continue to change. The issue is not if private property will evolve, but how it will evolve.
As we seek to address this issue, many questions present themselves. How much will new ecological knowledge and social values transform our sense of what is mine to use (and misuse and abuse) as I please? Is the evolutionary transformation of private property a slippery slope that eventually undermines the viability of contemporary democratic forms of governance? Are the ideals and principles of the founding fathers about the relationship of land ownership to liberty and democracy irrelevant in a world of urban wage earners, in contrast to the world of farmers, foresters and ranchers for which they were formulated? These are among the challenges we face in trying to untangle a puzzle that is the key to the future of American (and increasingly global) land use and environmental planning.
References
Epstein, Richard. 1992. Property as a Fundamental Civil Right, California Western Law Review 29(1):187-207.
Jacobs, Harvey M. 1998. Who Owns America? Social Conflict over Property Rights. Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press.
——. 1999. Fighting Over Land: America’s Legacy . . . America’s Future? Journal of the American Planning Association 65(2):141-149.
——. 1999. State Property Rights Laws: The Impacts of Those Laws on My Land. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.
Leopold, Aldo. 1968 [1949]. A Sand County Almanac. London and New York: Oxford University Press.
My experience in attending the “Who Owns America? II” conference in Madison, Wisconsin, last June was like contemplating a landscape of ideas about land and people. From my perspective, this landscape had four salient features:
The most noticeable feature in U.S. legal thinking about land is the great importance of property rights. Latin American legal tradition, following French jurist Leon Duguit’s doctrine of the social function of property, tends to see property rights as something to be limited by government and law in order to meet social needs. So, it was a cultural shock for me to discover the popularity of Charles Reich’s theory about property, where egalitarian ideas are advanced by means of asserting individual property rights.
At the conference, one could see many different ways in which the notion of property rights was expanded to accommodate new social demands. Eric Freyfogle’s contention that property should have an honored place in society is one example. Of course, an idea does not have to be accepted unanimously in American legal thinking for it to be an important aspect of today’s landscape of ideas about property.
The second feature refers to the distinction between public and private-a distinction that is so essential to modern societies that it is usually taken for granted. We are used to recognizing the coexistence of two separate forms of social control over the same piece of land: that of private landowners and that of public government organizations. However, one has to remember that this separation is not eternal or universal; it is a historical product.
Urban studies have long shown that land use regulations constantly affect the relationships between public and private control. Planning powers and development rights have been shrinking and expanding since the inception of modern urban management, and that process is now seen as normal. A more profound challenge to the separation of public and private categories was raised at the conference by indigenous peoples’ claims to their territories in the United States.
Those claims refer to a third, not yet fully codified, form of social control over land. In general, indigenous peoples do not aim at controlling local governments, i.e. governing a territory through conventional means. They also reject being treated simply as private corporations who own land. They talk about rights of a different nature, with old and new elements, and they do so by challenging a series of treaties between the people and the state. A treaty is the typical form of legal relationship between a nation-state and an external force. Apparently, past treaties were supposed to ‘settle’ the territorial question. But those treaties are now being questioned both in terms of the public/private dichotomy and because the formation of a nation-state was not completed.
We must also recognize that classical legal thinking does not have the tools to give meaning to these developments, because it is the very foundation of that thinking that is being shaken. Clearly, these concerns are also being raised in Canada and Mexico, although under different forms and with different outcomes. Scholars and practitioners in legal theory, and particularly constitutional theory, in all three countries of North America can learn a lot from each other in this process.
We should not be surprised to see new forms of territorial control when there have been so many changes in the land itself. Thousands of books have been written about the transformation of the land, mainly from what we now call an environmental perspective. Land as the ‘object’ of property relations has become extremely complex, and this complexity is the third feature I see in this landscape of ideas. Territories have become very difficult to understand, and perhaps the most relevant development is the blurring of the urban/rural distinction. We do not have cities in the traditional sense of the word; what we have is a set of urbanization processes.
The heralds of cyberspace tell us that as distances are shortened through new technologies, space and distance have become irrelevant. The truth is that technological change, combined with demographic and social change, has only made land more complex. This is clear when we see, as in the papers presented at the conference, the great number of disciplines that describe, analyze and even sing about land. There is not a single discipline that can embrace land into one form of discourse.
Maybe the most interesting new way of looking at land is the narrative approach, the fourth feature in our landscape. Listening to stories about land throws more light on property relationships than many other empirical methods because it allows us to recognize the subjective aspects without getting too far from empirical social sciences. Compared to the rigidity of legal and economic approaches, personal accounts give us the fluidity of property as a social relationship, the changes that occur in that relationship as a result of many interactions, and the different meanings that a piece of land or a neighborhood can have for its dwellers, new settlers, visitors or others.
Recognizing the richness and vividness of people’s stories and contrasting this richness against the rigidity of legal categories does not require neglecting those categories. Indeed, this more subjective approach can be another way of taking the law seriously. There is hardly any social discourse about land, even in its most vernacular form, which does not have a normative connotation. When someone says ‘this land is (was or should be) mine,’ he or she is making a legal claim. Legal categories are important outside the professional circles of lawyers, judges and realtors precisely because they are part of people’s stories; moreover, their function is to give meaning to people’s experiences.
When legal categories are not able to embrace a people’s normative representations about land, the law has lost its meaning. If traditional legal thinking defines property as a bundle of rights, the narrative approach can teach us to see property rights as bundles of representations that can be used to help people give meaning to their relationship to the land. Maybe this is the main lesson I have learned from “Who Owns America?”: to use many lenses to look at the landscape and to explore comparative ideas about individual and community ownership, informal settlements and legal systems throughout North America.
Antonio Azuela is the Attorney General for Environmental Protection in the federal government of Mexico. A graduate of Universidad Iberoamericana (Mexico City) and the School of Law, University of Warwick (England), he has been the legal advisor to several state governments and federal government agencies on planning law. Mr. Azuela is author of La Ciudad la Propiedad. Privada y el Derecho-The City: Private Property and the Law (El Colegio de Mexico, 1989) and numerous other publications on urban and environmental law from a sociological perspective.
Editor’s Note: The “Who Owns America? II” conference in June 1998 was cosponsored by the Lincoln Institute and the North American Program of the Land Tenure Center at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.
The University of Wisconsin Press has recently published Who Owns America? Social Conflict over Property Rights, edited by Harvey M. Jacobs, and based on the first conference in 1995. Contact: www.wisc.edu/wisconsinpress
I am pleased to report that the Lincoln Institute has signed an agreement of understanding with the Ministry of Land and Resources in the People’s Republic of China (PRC) to work together on researching and teaching about land and tax policies. Many places in the world face fundamental problems in land allocation and land taxation, but it is difficult to imagine a place and time where the resources of the Lincoln Institute could be more influential and could help more people than in China during the early twenty-first century.
Land and tax policy makers in China are faced with enormous challenges as a result of the extraordinary urbanization of the past two decades. The number of established cities in China grew from 182 in 1982 to 324 in 1985, and reached 666 by 1996, and the average urban population grew by 227 percent between 1957 and 1995. Some cities grew by 200 percent from 1985 to 1995, and the urbanized area of Beijing doubled from 1985 to 1992. However, the extent of urbanization in the future will dwarf that of the recent past. Based on forecasts of population growth and migration, China must provide enough urban land and infrastructure to accommodate more than 450 million persons over the next 20 years. If all of the additional urban population were put in new cities of 10 million persons each, China would need to develop and finance 45 such cities.
China initiated fundamental and revolutionary land use reforms during the mid-1980s. The first reforms established privately held land use rights. The second set of reforms included multiple elements, such as land banking, land trusts, land readjustments, and development of land markets in both urban and rural areas. We believe that the Institute can make a real difference in assisting these reform measures by sponsoring education and training for government officials, supporting research and publications by U.S. and Chinese scholars, and facilitating more in-depth interactions through workshops and conferences.
Over the past two years the Institute has led two training programs in Beijing and participated in meetings between Chinese officials and scholars and Institute board members, faculty and staff. The Institute also sponsored several sessions on land and housing markets in the PRC at the First World Planning Congress in Shanghai in 2001. We anticipate several more training and exchange programs this year, but we believe this is still just the beginning of an expanded effort by the Institute to have a positive impact on land and tax policy in the world’s most populous country. In this issue, Institute faculty associates Chengri Ding and Gerrit Knaap examine some of the recent reforms and current trends in urban land policy in China.
Land value is determined primarily by external factors, mainly changes that occur in the neighborhood or other parts of the city rather than by direct actions of the landowner. This observation is especially valid for small lots whose form or type of occupancy do not generate sufficiently strong externalities to increase their own value retroactively; that is, a small lot generally does not have a significant impact on those very external factors that could affect its own value. However, large urban projects (grandes proyectos urbanos or GPUs) do influence those factors, and also the value of the land that supports them. Herein lies the essence the Lincoln Institute’s interest in such projects.
We propose two perspectives for analyzing GPUs that complement and contrast with others that formerly predominated in this debate. First, these projects can be a stimulating force for immediate urban change that is capable of affecting land values, and therefore land use, for large areas if not an entire city region. This view is focused more on urban design or urbanism and stresses the study of the physical, esthetic and symbolic dimensions of large urban projects. A second approach, covering the field of regulation, attempts to understand the land value appreciation generated by the implementation and operation of these projects as a potential means for self-support and economic feasibility. It analyzes the role of GPUs in providing a new function for certain areas of the city. Both perspectives require a more holistic understanding that includes the diversity and levels of complexity of the projects, their relation to the city plan, the type of regulatory framework they require, the role of the public and private sectors in managing and financing them, land taxation and fiscal policies, and other factors.
These large projects are not new to Latin America. In the early twentieth century, many cities were impacted by programs that used public-private management arrangements, including outside players (national and international) and complex financial structures. Some projects had the potential to trigger urban processes capable of transforming their surroundings or even the city as a whole, as well as accentuating the preexisting socio-spatial polarization. Often the projects were layered over existing regulations, contributing to questions about the urban planning strategies in force at the time. Large urban developers and utility companies (English, Canadian, French and others) coordinated the provision of services with complex real estate development operations in almost all the major cities of Latin America.
Today large projects attempt to intervene in especially sensitive places to reorient urban processes and create new urban identities on a symbolic level. They also aim to create new economic areas (sometimes territorial enclaves) able to foster an environment protected from urban poverty and violence, and more favorable to domestic or international private investment. When describing the motives that justify these programs, the rhetoric focuses on their instrumental role in strategic planning, their alleged contribution to urban productivity, and their effectiveness in boosting their intercity competitive position.
In a context marked by transformations due to globalization, economic reforms, deregulation and the introduction of a new focus on urban management, it is not surprising that these programs have been the subject of much controversy. Their scale and complexity often spur new social movements; redefine economic opportunities; put into question urban development regulatory frameworks and land use rules; strain local finances; and expand political arenas, thus altering the roles of urban stakeholders. An additional complication is the long time frame for executing large urban projects, which usually exceeds the terms of municipal governments and the limits of their territorial authority. This reality presents additional management challenges and formidable dilemmas within the public and academic debate.
The Lincoln Institute’s contribution to this debate is to underscore the land component in the structure of these large projects, specifically the processes associated with urban land management and the mechanisms for land value capture or the mobilization of land value increments for the benefit of the community. This article is part of a broader, ongoing effort to systematize recent Latin American experience with GPUs and to discuss the relevant aspects.
A Wide Range of Projects
As in other parts of the world, large urban projects in Latin America comprise a wide range of activities: restoration of historic downtown areas (Old Havana or Lima); renovation of neglected downtown areas (São Paulo or Montevideo); redevelopment of ports and waterfronts (Puerto Madero in Buenos Aires or Ribera Norte in Concepción, Chile); reuse of old airports or industrial zones (the Tamanduatehy artery in Santo Andre, Brazil, or the Cerrillos airport in Santiago, Chile); expansion zones (Santa Fé, Mexico, or the former Panama Canal zone); residential or neighborhood improvement projects (Nuevo Usme in Bogotá or Favela Bairro in Rio de Janeiro); and so on.
Land management is a key component in all of these projects, and it presents diverse sets of conditions (Lungo 2004; forthcoming). One common trait is that the projects are managed by a government authority as part of a city project or plan, even though they enjoy private participation in several respects. Thus exclusively private programs, such as shopping centers and gated communities, are a different category of development project not included in this discussion.
Scale and Complexity
The minimum threshold of scale, in terms of surface area or amount of financial investment, for a project to meet the GPU criteria depends on the size of the city, its economy, social structure and other factors, all of which help define the complexity of the project. In Latin America projects often combine large scale and a complex set of players associated with key roles in land policy and management, including various levels of government (national, provincial and municipal), private entities and community leaders from the affected area. Even relatively small upgrading projects are often formidably complex with regard to the land readjustment component.
There is obviously a huge difference between a project proposed by one or a few owners over a large area (such as ParLatino, an abandoned industrial site in São Paulo) and a project involving the cooperation of many owners of small areas. The latter requires a complex series of actions capable of generating synergies or sufficient external economies to make each action economically viable. Most projects fall between the two extremes. They often involve the prior acquisition of rights over smaller parcels by a few agents in order to centralize control over the type and management of the development.
The key to analysis and design of GPUs in Latin America lies in the ability of the institutional organization in charge of project management to incorporate and coordinate scale and complexity appropriately. Governmental corporations have been created in some cases, but they operate autonomously (as in Puerto Madero) or as special public agencies attached to the central or municipal governments (as in the housing program being developed in the city of Rosario, Argentina, or the Nuevo Usme program in Bogotá). The case of the failed project to build the new Mexico City airport demonstrates the negative consequences of not correctly defining this fundamental aspect of GPUs.
Relationship of GPUs to the City Plan
What is the point of developing GPUs when the city has no comprehensive urban development plan or socially shared vision? It is possible to find situations where execution of GPUs may stimulate, enhance or strengthen the city plan, but in practice many such projects are established without any plan. One of the main criticisms aimed at GPUs is that they become instruments for excluding citizen participation in decision making about individual elements of what is expected or supposed to be part of an integrated urban project, as is normally provided for in a city’s master plan or land use plan.
This is an interesting debate within the framework of urban policies in Latin America, since urban planning itself has been criticized as being elitist and exclusionary. Some authors have concluded that urban planning has been one if not the main cause of the excesses of social segregation typical of cities in the region. In this context the recent popularity of GPUs can be seen as a reaction of the elite to redemocratization and participatory urban planning. Others may view GPUs as an advanced (and perverse) form of traditional urban planning; a yielding to the failures or ineffectiveness of urban planning; or even a lesser evil because at least they ensure that something is done in some part of the city.
There are many challenges for GPUs regarding their relationship to a city plan. They can help build a city plan where none exists, alter traditional plans, or do what we might call “navigating through the urban fog” if the former paths are not viable. In any case, land management proves to be a critical factor, both for the plan and for the projects, because it refers to the fundamental role of the regulatory framework covering urban land use and expansion.
Regulatory Framework
The preferred regulatory solution would be a two-part intervention: on one hand, maintaining general regulations for the whole city but changing the conventional criteria to be more flexible in absorbing the constant change taking place in urban environments; and on the other, allowing specific regulations for certain projects but avoiding regulatory frameworks that may contradict the stated goals of the city plan. Urban Operations, a specific and ingenious instrument devised under the Brazilian urban development legislation (Statute of the City Act of 2001), has been used widely to accommodate these dual needs. The city of São Paulo alone has 16 such operations in effect. Another version of this instrument is the so-called “partial planning” provision to readjust large tracts of land, which is included in Colombia’s equally innovative Law 388 of 1997.
Again in practice we see that exceptions are often granted in an apparently arbitrary manner, and regulatory restrictions are frequently ignored. The point is that neither type of regulation is submitted to any assessment of its socioeconomic and environmental value, thus losing a significant portion of its justification. Given the financial and fiscal fragility of cities in Latin America, what prevails is an extremely low capacity for public discussion of the requests made by the proponents of GPUs. The absence of institutional mechanisms that would make these negotiations transparent makes them more venal, insofar as they expose the capacity to discuss other, less prosaic legal challenges.
Public or Private Management and Financing
What is the desirable combination of public and private management of these projects? To guarantee that public management of a large urban project fulfills its function, land use must be monitored and regulated, although the degree to which the control should be exercised, and on which specific components of land ownership rights, is unresolved. Ambiguity in the courts and the uncertainties associated with the development of GPUs often result in public frustration over unanticipated outcomes favoring private interests. The proper balance between effective ex ante (GPU formulation, negotiation and design) and ex post (GPU implementation, management, operation and impacts) controls over land uses and rights is at the heart of the problem. Typically in the Latin American experience with GPUs there is a huge gap between original promises and actual outcomes.
In recent years the management of GPUs has been confused with the utility and feasibility of public-private partnerships, such as those set up in many countries to carry out specific projects or programs. Some stakeholders even propose the possibility of privatizing urban development management in general. If the private sector has complete control over the land, however, GPUs are severely limited in their ability to contribute to socially sustainable urban development, despite the fact that in many cases the projects contribute significant taxes to the city (Polese and Stren 2000).
The preferred public management system should call on the greatest social participation possible and include the private sector in the financing and implementation of these projects. The large urban programs that seem to contribute the most to the development of a city are those based on public management of the land.
Land Value Appreciation
There is consensus around the fact that GPUs generate an appreciation in land value. Differences emerge when we try to assess the real amount of this appreciation, if it is to be redistributed and, if so, how it should be shared and whom it should benefit, both in social and territorial terms. Again we have the public-private conundrum, wherein this redistribution formula often leads to the appropriation of public resources by the private sector.
The appreciation of land value as a resource that can be mobilized for self-financing the GPU or transferred to other areas of the city could be a way to measure whether or not public management of these projects is a success. However, we rarely have an acceptable estimate of this land value increment. Even in the Puerto Madero project in Buenos Aires, which is considered to be a success, to date there is no evaluation of the land value increment associated with either the properties within the project itself or those in neighboring areas. As a result, the discussion of possible redistribution has not gone beyond a few educated guesses.
GPUs conceived as instruments for achieving certain strategic urban goals are generally registered as successes when they are executed according to plan. The question regarding to what extent these goals were actually reached is not fully answered, and it is often conveniently forgotten. The hypothesis that best seems to fit Latin American experiences with GPUs is that the apparent lack of interest in goals has little to do with any technical inability to make the source of the increased value transparent. Rather, this inattention comes from the need to hide the role of public management in facilitating the private sector’s capture of the land value increment in general, if not its capture of public resources used to develop the construction project itself.
We are not feigning ignorance of or trying to minimize the difficulties in advancing knowledge about how land value appreciation is formed and in measuring its size and circulation. Indeed, there are many technical obstacles to overcome when faced with complicated land rights, the vicissitudes or permanent flaws in cadastres and property registers, and the lack of an historical series of geo-referenced real estate values. Even the smallest plan must distinguish between the appreciation generated by the project itself and that generated by urban externalities that almost always exist despite the scale of the project, the different sources and rates of appreciation, and so forth. Some encouraging work has been done on measuring and evaluating the land value increment associated with development, but technical obstacles seem to be less relevant than the lack of political interest in knowing how these projects are being managed.
When land value increments are created, they are usually distributed in the immediate project area or nearby. This principle is based on the need to finance a specific project within the area, to offset certain negative impacts, or to implement actions such as relocating precarious housing sited on the land or its surroundings that may detract from the image of the new project. Given the socioeconomic conditions found in the typical Latin American city, it is not hard to see that the preferred use of the captured value is to earmark it for projects of a social nature in other parts of the city, such as housing complexes. In fact a significant part of the generated land value increment results exactly from the removal of negative externalities produced by the presence of low-income families in the area. Needless to say, this strategy raises conflicting opinions.
There is certainly a need to devise better legislation and instruments to overcome the trade-off between socially mobilized land value increment and gentrification through displacement. Despite the lack of hard empirical studies, there are reasons to believe that a broader understanding of the impacts of these projects will show that some of the compensatory intracity transfers may actually prove to be counterproductive. For example, the resulting higher land price differences and social residential segregation may involve higher social costs that will need to be addressed by additional public resources in the future (Smolka and Furtado 2001).
Positive and Negative Impacts
On the other hand, the negative impacts caused by GPUs often obscure the varied positive impacts. The challenge is how to reduce the negative impacts produced by this type of urban intervention. It soon becomes clear, whether directly or indirectly, that the role of land management is critical to understanding the effects of large interventions in urban development, planning, regulation, socio-spatial segregation, and the urban environment and culture. Scale and complexity have a role as well, depending on the type of impact. For example, scale is more relevant to environmental and urban development impacts, while complexity is more critical in terms of social impact and urban policy.
As already mentioned, the gentrification that these projects generally produce encourages the displacement of the existing, usually poor, inhabitants from the new project area. However, gentrification is a complex phenomenon that requires further analysis of its own negative aspects, as well as how it could help to raise living standards. It could be more useful to move on from simple mitigation of unwanted negative impacts to better management of the processes that create these risks.
Any GPU can have positive or negative effects, depending on the way urban development is managed, the role of the public sector, and the existing level of citizen participation. We have emphasized that one of the central issues is management of the land and of the land value increment associated with these projects. Large urban projects can not be analyzed in isolation from the entire development of the city. Likewise, the land component must be evaluated with respect to the combination of scale and complexity that is appropriate for each project.
Mario Lungo is a professor and researcher at the Central American University (UCA José Simeón Cañas) in San Salvador, El Salvador. He formerly served as executive director of the Office of Planning for the Metropolitan Area of San Salvador.
Martim O. Smolka is senior fellow of the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy, cochairman of the Department of International Studies and director of the Program on Latin America and the Caribbean.
References
Lungo, Mario, ed. 2004. Grandes proyectos urbanos (Large urban projects). San Salvador: Universidad Centroamericana José Simeón Cañas.
Lungo, Mario (forthcoming). Grandes proyectos urbanos. Una revisión de casos latinoamericanos (Large urban projects: A review of Latin American cases). San Salvador: Universidad Centroamericana José Simeón Cañas.
Smolka, Martim and Fernanda Furtado. 2001. Recuperación de plusvalías en América Latina (Value capture in Latin America). Santiago, Chile: EURE Libros.
Polese, Mario and Richard Stren. 2000. The social sustainability of cities. Toronto: University of Toronto Press.
That there is social conflict over property rights is clear to anyone with even passing attention to the national media.
We hear a lot about communities these days, and as individuals we likely belong to or live in several communities that may have shared values. In communities where peoples’ values and interests are not necessarily shared, however, interactions and decision making may be more complicated.
Working within the land trust network, many of us have been acculturated to consider natural communities to the exclusion of our human surroundings. To be most effective, however, we must deal with the complete range of communities and all their human and ecological complexities.
En vista de que, en los Estados Unidos, existen más de 25.000 gobiernos municipales involucrados en el análisis y aprobación de cambios propuestos en referencia a la zonificación, planificación y desarrollo de propiedades, la cantidad de decisiones sobre el uso del suelo que se toma a nivel municipal por año probablemente ronda los millones. Si bien la gran mayoría de estas resoluciones siguen el curso normal, los cambios en el uso del suelo y la zonificación que resultan más complejos y conflictivos con frecuencia implican conflictos amargos y duraderos. El exceso de derechos de desarrollo en la región intermontañosa del oeste de los Estados Unidos (página 4) es un ejemplo de este problema tan complicado sobre el uso del suelo.
Los conflictos sobre el uso del suelo y el desarrollo inmobiliario están clasificados entre los tipos más comunes de desacuerdos civiles en los Estados Unidos y, por lo general, involucran a muchas partes, propiedades e intereses. Estos conflictos generan costos para todas las partes directamente implicadas, así como también para el público en general. Sin embargo, una larga experiencia en la resolución de conflictos sobre el uso del suelo indica que los cambios en el proceso de toma de decisiones sobre el uso del suelo pueden producir mejores resultados a un costo menor.
Los gobiernos municipales por lo general tienen una junta encargada de tomar las decisiones referentes a los cambios en el uso del suelo, para lo cual emplean un proceso de cuatro pasos. En primer lugar, la parte que desea obtener un cambio o permiso para desarrollar una propiedad debe presentar una solicitud ante dicha junta. En segundo lugar, la junta analiza la solicitud y puede requerir al solicitante respuestas adicionales o modificaciones. En tercer lugar, se da la oportunidad al público para que realice comentarios, lo que puede derivar en un diálogo más entre la junta y el solicitante, así como en nuevas modificaciones a la solicitud. Finalmente, la junta emite su decisión. Este proceso funciona bien en la mayoría de las solicitudes que se procesan con una celeridad razonable. No obstante, la junta invierte la mayor parte de su tiempo en aquellos casos, una minoría, que involucran muchos intereses y numerosos derechos que pueden superponerse o ser contradictorios o imprecisos.
El proceso típico de cuatro pasos se centra en la adjudicación de derechos; así, cuando se trata de pocas cuestiones simples y los derechos se encuentran bien definidos en relación con las propiedades en cuestión, este método funciona bien. Sin embargo, en los casos más complejos, resulta más prometedor utilizar un enfoque más amplio centrado en el beneficio mutuo de todas las partes involucradas. El enfoque de beneficio mutuo resulta más productivo cuando se dan las siguientes condiciones: existen muchas partes interesadas; la junta que toma las decisiones posee algún nivel de discreción en la decisión en particular; el impacto de la decisión es de largo plazo y largo alcance; y es probable que todo resultado que no sea colaborativo finalmente sea apelado por una o más de las partes interesadas. El enfoque de beneficio mutuo no debe considerarse como una alternativa al proceso normal de los cuatro pasos, sino como una ampliación del mismo, básicamente, mediante la suma de pasos adicionales o la ampliación de los pasos existentes en el proceso estándar.
La clave para utilizar con éxito el enfoque de beneficio mutuo es lograr descubrir los intereses subyacentes de las partes interesadas, es decir, de aquellos intereses situados tras la posición adoptada públicamente, y, luego, desarrollar nuevas opciones o soluciones que den respuesta a dichos intereses. La situación ideal se da cuando este paso tiene lugar en las primeras etapas del proceso cuando las posiciones de las partes interesadas todavía son flexibles.
Este proceso de investigación y detección es un elemento de la primera etapa del enfoque de beneficio mutuo, la cual implica identificar a las partes interesadas, escuchar atentamente sus motivos de preocupación y tomar como base sus intereses. En el proceso habitual de cuatro pasos, estas actividades probablemente tendrían lugar en una fase previa a la solicitud, en la que se considerarían los conceptos de desarrollo y diseño antes de formular las propuestas definitivas. La segunda etapa del enfoque de beneficio mutuo consiste en diseñar un proceso de colaboración que involucre a todas las partes interesadas y ofrezca oportunidades para que dichas partes compartan información y aprendan unas de otras. La tercera etapa consiste en promover un diálogo exitoso entre las partes interesadas, por lo general mediante la intermediación de un buen facilitador que logre generar relaciones y confianza entre las partes involucradas. La etapa final consiste en implementar los acuerdos que se hayan logrado, garantizando que las soluciones propuestas incluyan los acuerdos que se hayan alcanzado entre los participantes, a la vez que cumplen con los requisitos que establezca la junta encargada de tomar las decisiones.
El nuevo libro publicado por el Instituto Lincoln, Land in Conflict (Suelo en conflicto), escrito por Sean Nolon, Ona Ferguson y Pat Field, que contiene una descripción más detallada del enfoque de beneficio mutuo, junto con estudios de casos informativos. Está disponible tanto en formato impreso como electrónico.
Growing the International Land Conservation Network
Laura Johnson is an attorney and lifelong conservationist with more than 30 years of experience in nonprofit management. She is currently director of the new International Land Conservation Network (ILCN), a visiting fellow at the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy, and chair of the Land Trust Alliance board of directors.
Laura was the president of Mass Audubon from 1999 to 2012. Prior, she worked for 16 years at The Nature Conservancy as a lawyer, Massachusetts state director, and vice president of the northeast region.
Laura received a B.A. in history from Harvard University and a J.D. from New York University Law School. From 2013 to 2014, she was a Bullard Fellow at the Harvard Forest, Harvard University, where she completed a study on private land conservation efforts around the world.
LAND LINES: Your program, the International Land Conservation Network (ILCN), is new this year, but it has some antecedents at the Lincoln Institute. Can you tell us about that history?
LAURA JOHNSON: There are some wonderful connections between the new network and the Lincoln Institute’s past support of the innovative, capacity-building effort devoted to conservation that eventually became the Land Trust Alliance.
In the early 1980s, Kingsbury Browne, a prominent Boston lawyer, decided to take some time away from his law firm, and he used a sabbatical at the Lincoln Institute to explore the needs and opportunities of private land trusts in the United States. Up until that point, there was no nationwide effort to seek out the best examples of land protection activities, to share those ideas and best practices, or even to keep track of what was happening in land conservation around the country. Kingsbury Browne’s study led him, along with several other land trust leaders at the time, to start a new organization called the Land Trust Exchange, which connected the country’s small but growing conservation community through a newsletter and some basic research and training activities. The Lincoln Institute played a crucial role in helping to launch the Exchange, which grew over the years and changed its name to become the Washington, DC–based Land Trust Alliance. There were fewer than 400 U.S. land trusts in 1982 when the Exchange got started; now the Land Trust Alliance serves 1,200 land trusts all over the United States. The Exchange started out with a modest newsletter in the 1980s; now the Alliance provides an online learning center, a full conservation and risk management curriculum, and more than 100 webinars and 300 workshops that served close to 2,000 people in 2014.
LL: Throughout most of your career, you have been deeply engaged in U.S.-based land conservation work. What attracted you to expand your efforts on an international scale?
LJ: When I stepped down from the presidency of Mass Audubon two years ago, I began talking with Jim Levitt, a fellow at the Lincoln Institute, the director of the Program on Conservation Innovation at the Harvard Forest, and a former Mass Audubon board member. It was initially his idea that I explore how conservationists outside the United States were using and adapting conservation tools that had been developed over the years here. Jim had become very involved in private conservation efforts in Chile, and there was an opportunity to strengthen the very new movement there by sharing U.S.-based measures such as conservation easements. At about the same time, Peter Stein received the Kingsbury Browne fellowship and award from the Land Trust Alliance and the Lincoln Institute, which allowed him to explore the breadth of worldwide conservation organizations as well. Through our different projects, Jim, Peter, and I came to the similar conclusion that many people around the globe shared a strong interest in connecting to each other and to U.S. conservationists. This desire for a community of practice seemed like a remarkable opportunity to help build capacity for privately protecting land.
LL: Why is this role the right challenge at the right time for you?
LJ: I have had the incredible good fortune to work with some great organizations and wonderfully talented people. As a young lawyer just starting out at The Nature Conservancy in the 1980s, I was able to grow professionally at a pivotal time for conservation in the United States. Looking at the historic trend lines, the U.S. land conservation movement took off then, and it was very exciting to be a part of that growth. Then when I went to Mass Audubon in 1999, I was able to run the nation’s largest independent state Audubon organization, which provided leadership not just with land conservation, but with environmental education and public policy as well. Now, I have the honor of serving on the board of the Land Trust Alliance, which does such remarkable work here in the United States to enable effective land and resource protection. Along the way, my legal training was certainly useful, but I have also learned a tremendous amount about what makes organizations successful and likely to have a positive impact. I feel very fortunate to have this background and set of experiences, and I want to bring it to bear on the issues facing the international land conservation community.
LL: You’ve mentioned capacity building and creating successful organizations a few times. Can you comment on what that means in the context of land conservation?
LJ: Land conservation organizations need all the elements of any sound nonprofit organization—a clear mission, a compelling vision and strategy, disciplined planning and clear goals, sufficient financial resources, and great people. But working on land protection requires a very long-term outlook. To start with, a land trust needs to have the knowledge and resources to assess what land should be protected—whether the mission is to conserve natural resources or scenic, cultural, or historic values—and what legal and financial tools are best suited to achieving a good outcome. Then it can take years of working with a landowner to get to a point where everyone is ready to agree on a deal. Land trusts need to have people with the training, knowledge, and experience to carry out transactions that are legally, financially, and ethically sound. Once land is protected by a trust, that organization is making a commitment to manage the land it owns or has restrictions on forever. Museums are a good analogy, but instead of Rembrandts and Picassos, land conservation organizations are stewards of invaluable living resources, and the land and water we all depend on to survive.
LL: Why is private land conservation particularly important now? Why do we need an international network?
LJ: We are at a critical juncture as the pressures of climate change, land conversion, and shrinking government resources are making it more challenging than ever to protect land and water for the public benefit. Therefore the mission statement of the new International Land Conservation Network emphasizes connecting organizations and people around the world that are accelerating voluntary private action that protects and stewards land and water resources. Our premise is that building capacity and empowering voluntary private land conservation will strengthen the global land conservation movement and lead to more long-lasting and effective resource protection.
Support for better coordination of international private land conservation is emerging from many sources. For example, the International Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN) considered the role of private land conservation in the context of global efforts at its November 2014 World Parks Congress held in Sydney, Australia. The Futures of Privately Protected Areas, an IUCN-commissioned report released at that conference, provided a number of recommendations, such as developing relevant training and improving knowledge sharing and information, which are certainly important goals for the new network. We expect to work in collaboration with partners such as the IUCN, and with the existing regional or countrywide networks that are already in existence. And of course we have the very powerful example of the Land Trust Alliance and what it has been able to accomplish over 30 years to build the capacity of land trusts in the United States.
LL: What will you try to accomplish in the first year to address these needs?
LJ: We’ve had to get ourselves organized and deal with basic issues such as our name, visual identity, mission statement, goals, and governance structure. We will be designing and launching a website to serve as the essential repository of case studies, research, best practices, events, and conferences. Eventually, we want to have a continuum of learning available on the website through tools like webinars that address a range of subjects, from legal instruments to organizational best practices. We also want to carry out a census of existing networks and active organizations, to start building a baseline of knowledge about private land protection that will help measure progress over time.
LL: What are the greatest challenges to starting the network?
LJ: There are many. Money is a big one, of course. We’ve received a generous start-up grant from the Packard Foundation, and we have great support from the Lincoln Institute. But we are working hard to identify additional sources of funding, in order to grow the network and increase its impact. And of course we are still proving that the network will provide useful, important, and actionable information and training to meet a tremendous variety of needs within the international land conservation community. We know that we can’t do everything, so we must be strategic and choose activities that will have impact. The global scale also presents a host of cultural and logistical challenges, requiring us to navigate different legal systems, languages, customs, and, last but not least, time zones.
On the positive side, we already have a very committed group of land conservation practitioners who came together at our organizing meeting in September 2014 and enthusiastically signed on to be the “sweat equity”—to provide the network with knowledge, expertise, experience, and wise counsel. It’s already very clear to me that this is a wonderful group of colleagues who are doing interesting and important work around the globe. It will be an adventure—and I know I’ll learn a lot—to grow this new network together.
Editor’s note: This article summarizes a recent Lincoln lecture by Dean Gerald Korngold of the Case Western Reserve University School of Law. He outlined the current status of the law on nonpossessory rights in property and discussed its future direction.
Everyday life presents many examples of agreements that divide the rights to possession of property. A typical lease allows the tenant a period of possession in exchange for payment of rent, and joint ownership arrangements provide a means of sharing or dividing possession. But, nonpossessory interests are equally important because they provide a mechanism for private land use regulation. Some examples are condominium owners’ rights in their building’s common areas, storekeepers’ agreements with the operator of the shopping center in which they are located, and gated communities’ covenants to restrict access. None of these convey possession, but all affect daily living and business arrangements. The widespread adoption of public zoning restrictions over the past century has by no means diminished the role of private land use agreements, and may even have enhanced it by making limitations on a possessor’s rights of use a familiar and accepted aspect of property ownership.
An agreement concerning the use of property could, of course, take the form of a simple contract, whether between neighbors, store owners and a mall operator, or condominium residents and their homeowners’ association. But such a contract would not necessarily survive a sale, inheritance or other transfer of ownership of the property in question. A generation later, a court might well refuse to enforce an agreement where neither the person violating its provisions nor the person seeking to uphold them were parties to the original contract. For this reason, long-term durability requires that private land use restrictions take the form of a conveyance of a property interest, rather than a contract.
The New Restatement of Property
Part of the complexity of nonpossessory rights stems from the numerous and often ambiguous distinctions among them in the common law. They fall within four traditional categories:
It is clear even from this cursory description that a given interest might be assigned to more than one category. For example, an agreement between neighbors not to construct commercial buildings on their properties might be characterized as an easement, an equitable servitude, or a real covenant, and each result would carry different legal consequences.
Traditionally, courts were most favorably disposed toward easements, and were much less likely to enforce real covenants and equitable servitudes. Over time two distinct categories of property law developed to address similar issues in these different contexts. In 2000 the American Law Institute, an organization of practitioners, jurists and scholars concerned with legal reform, took a major step in attempting to simplify and rationalize the law of nonpossessory interests. Its Restatement (Third) of the Law of Property adopted a single unified approach and a new category, termed “servitudes,” encompassing all earlier classifications. Restatements have no binding legal effect, but they often influence both legislatures considering changes to the law and courts charged with its interpretation.
Policy Arguments: Pro and Con
Judicial decisions concerning nonpossessory interests often give weight to larger issues of public policy in determining whether to enforce these agreements. Four major policy considerations often support enforcement: the moral obligation accompanying a promise; interests of economic efficiency; respect for freedom of choice; and a desire to promote certainty in business agreements.
Moral Obligation. This issue reflects a sense of fairness in enforcing a promise and applies both to the original parties to the agreement and to their successors in ownership. When restrictions that are intended to affect future purchasers (i.e., restrictions that “run with the land”) are recorded at public registries and available for inspection, failure to enforce these agreements will produce an unwarranted windfall for the parties who breach them. The original owners who entered the agreement did so voluntarily and in anticipation of some benefit. Later purchasers presumably made their own bargains in light of these agreements. A buyer of restricted property will generally pay less for it than he or she would if a more profitable use were permitted. Thus the new owner would receive an unfair benefit if the lower purchase price were followed by a release from the obligation to adhere to the restrictions.
Efficiency and Freedom of Choice. Nonpossessory agreements promote efficiency by greatly expanding the range of possible property interests that may be transferred. Consider the case of an owner seeking to insure that there is no intrusive construction on a neighboring lot in the future. Absent the availability of a nonpossessory interest, the owner’s only recourse would be to purchase the entire neighboring lot, even if outright ownership was not desired and in fact precluded other nonobjectionable use by a different party. The ability to acquire only part of the bundle of rights constituting the property allows flexibility that can benefit all affected parties. In this way efficiency concerns are closely related to those favoring freedom of choice. The value our society places on individual autonomy leads to a presumption in favor of voluntary private arrangements concerning land ownership. This is especially important when the subject matter concerns one’s home, as do many land use agreements.
Certainty. Enforcement of private agreements also promotes the certainty and stability necessary for long-term planning and investment. By contrast, a zoning ordinance may be varied in individual instances or altered in response to political pressure. This is one important incentive for private agreements to restrict land use, even when such limitations are already part of the local zoning code.
These concerns, however, are balanced by other policy considerations that may argue against enforcement of a servitude. Perhaps the most significant is the centuries-old common-law distrust of restrictions on future land use, development and sale. Recognizing that we have no special power to predict the social and economic concerns of future generations, courts have traditionally limited the extent to which contemporary agreements may bind later owners. In fact, the term “mortmain,” referring to property held without the power of sale, literally refers to the “dead hand” of past restrictions. From this perspective, policy considerations favoring efficiency, flexibility and personal choice can militate against as well as in favor of enforcement of restrictions in specific cases.
In some instances, this concern centers on restraints on alienation, or provisions that make the land more difficult to sell. However, the very flexibility fostered by the introduction of a market for new partial property interests will often obviate this objection. A prospective owner who wishes to buy property free and clear of a longstanding servitude can often accomplish this by a two-part transaction: purchasing the encumbered property at the lower price it currently commands on the market and simultaneously paying the holder of the servitude the amount needed to release it. Thus, a purchaser of property limited by private agreement to residential use could build a retail structure there (assuming it were permitted by local zoning ordinances) if he or she were able to negotiate with the neighbor a termination of the agreement prohibiting such construction. The lifting of a “cloud on title” of this type is extremely common, as in the case of a new owner who negotiates with a current tenant over payment for early termination of a lease.
New Models for Judicial Decisions
Given the effort of the Restatement to release some of the “dead hand” of common law classification, and given the enormous proliferation of commercial, condominium, homeowner and conservation restrictions in recent years, what new criteria should courts apply in determining whether to enforce a specific agreement?
One frequently discussed criterion concerns subject matter: should certain categories of restrictions be suspect because they may infringe on special rights, such as the right to individual expression and free speech? Should a homeowners’ association be able to bar the display of flags and political posters from its members’ premises? One real-life dispute pitted the governing board of a cooperative on the East Side of Manhattan against a unit owner who refused to cease sponsoring baptisms in the apartment’s swimming pool. (The owner argued that often the ceremonies involved college football players, who were too large to fit in a bathtub.) Note that these disputes do not involve the First Amendment, which only prohibits governmental restrictions on speech and religion, not voluntary private agreements. Restrictions also increasingly address architectural and aesthetic issues, which combine concerns for common amenities with problems of limiting personal expression and individual freedom.
Instead of allowing the subject matter to determine the outcome of these cases, an alternate approach would enforce only those covenants that regulate external behavior, not those that seek to limit personal status or activities within a private residence. This would permit restrictions on outside flags and posters, but not prohibitions on unmarried couples living together or the conduct of church services within a home (including baptisms in the bathtub). Of course, it would permit restrictions on the external effects of such arrangements, such as garbage, traffic, parking and noise. Similarly, it would generally support architectural limitations on landscape and external building elements, for these have important “spillover” effects on other residents.
The new Restatement of the Law of Property does not attempt to formulate this approach into a formal rule. However, it does recommend that general considerations of public policy guide courts in determining whether to enforce a specific servitude, and it notes the need for special concern in addressing issues of personal autonomy.
The Special Case of Conservation Easements
Conservation easements are currently one of the most significant and fastest-growing types of servitudes. They convey to a conservation organization or governmental unit the right to enforce a limitation on development of privately owned property, illustrating the great potential of nonpossessory interests. Often families who are the most committed to the preservation of their land and have a strong sense of its value as open space are the least interested in selling the property to a charity or to the government. The conservation easement permits protection against development while the land remains in private ownership. The organization holding the easement does not have the responsibilities of ownership, and some portion of the property value remains on the tax rolls. The net expenditure, even when the easement must be purchased, is less than the cost of the entire parcel. It is easy to see why conservation easements have become tremendously popular land preservation tools.
At the same time, some of the public policy concerns that argue against enforcement of other servitudes can be operative here as well. In particular, unease over long-term restrictions on land use is magnified in this case because federal income tax law allows a deduction for the gift of an easement only if it operates in perpetuity. Perpetuity is a long time, and appropriate land use may change dramatically in the future. Conservation easements are also “in gross,” meaning that they can be held by organizations that are not neighboring property owners. The original limitation of covenants to nearby owners reflected a concern that distant parties might be uninterested in or uninformed about local issues, with no necessary stake in promoting efficient land use and economic development. They could also be difficult to locate if needed to release a covenant or servitude. Finally, there are troubling antidemocratic aspects of a system that permits private parties to impose perpetual land use restrictions without public oversight.
These concerns are not grounds for recommending wholesale changes to the law of conservation easements, such as a restriction to type of ownership or a uniform limitation on duration. These requirements would be too rigid a response, particularly when more time is needed to understand how well-founded such misgivings might be. Individual decisions informed by experience, rather than expansive rulemaking on the basis of abstract reasoning, is the greatest strength of our common-law heritage. This approach permits courts to intervene selectively in the rare cases where the public interest may not support specific enforcement of an easement. This is already a familiar response in, for example, the law of nuisance, where individual awards may be limited to monetary damages alone. State attorneys general may also be able to exercise increased oversight and represent the public interest more actively as conservation easements come into ever-broader use.
Conclusion
Nonpossessory interests in property are as widespread as rights of way and as familiar as the covenants in a homeowners’ association agreement. The enormous usefulness of these servitudes makes efforts to modernize and rationalize their application critically important. At the same time, because their influence is felt in numerous facets of everyday life, judicial analysis of their legal effects provides a context within which to consider bedrock issues of public policy.
Joan Youngman is senior fellow and chairman of the Lincoln Institute’s Department of Valuation and Taxation and an attorney who writes on legal aspects of property taxation policy and practice. She has developed and teaches numerous Institute courses on conservation easements, land valuation techniques and the interaction of property taxation and public finance.
Una versión más actualizada de este artículo está disponible como parte del capítulo 2 del libro Perspectivas urbanas: Temas críticos en políticas de suelo de América Latina.
Académicos y profesionales involucrados en la regularización de asentamientos en sectores de bajos ingresos en Latinoamérica compartieron sus experiencias en un foro patrocinado por el Instituto Lincoln en marzo de 1998. La ciudad de Medellín, Colombia y su oficina de regularización, PRIMED (Programa Integrado para el Mejoramiento de Barrios Deficientes en Medellín) sirvieron de anfitriones. Entre los participantes se incluyeron representantes de PRIMED, empleados oficiales de la ciudad de Medellín y observadores de instituciones multilaterales, tales como el Banco Interamericano de Desarrollo (BID), el Banco Mundial, USAID y la Fundación GTZ de Alemania.
Doce ponencias principales informaron sobre los casos de estudio más significativos de ocho países: Brasil, Colombia, Costa Rica, Ecuador, El Salvador, México, Perú y Venezuela. El foro resultó ser una reunión excepcional cuyas conclusiones, resumidas más adelante, probablemente tendrán importantes repercusiones en las políticas de Latinoamérica.
Perspectivas Comparativas de Regularización
Diversos puntos de vista sobre regularización aparecen ilustrados por los trabajos de cada país. Los dos enfoques principales son la regularización jurídica (por ejemplo: procedimientos de legalización de títulos de la tierra a fin de convertir la propiedad “de hecho” en propiedad jurídica, en Perú, Ecuador y México) y la regularización física (urbanización), incluyendo la expansión de servicios de infraestructura en asentamientos irregulares (Colombia, Venezuela, Brasil y otros países). Un tercer enfoque, en el cual se ha hecho énfasis sólo recientemente, establece como prioridad la integración social y cívica de los asentamientos de población de bajos ingresos dentro de la estructura urbana a través de una serie de medidas.
Aunque en la mayor parte de los países se presentan elementos de estos tres tipos de regularización, generalmente cada país se orienta más en una dirección que en otra. En México, los tres enfoques se utilizan simultáneamente. En la mayoría de los otros países, el énfasis depende de la fuerza relativa de los actores, las organizaciones y las políticas por una parte, y de la forma en que el problema de regularización es concebido (“construido”) por las autoridades federales y locales, por otra.
La Regularización Jurídica: Programas de Adjudicación de Títulos de Propiedad
La regularización de títulos de propiedad se ha convertido en práctica similarmente aceptada por gobiernos, agencias internacionales y organizaciones no gubernamentales. De hecho, la pregunta “¿por qué regularizar?” que se planteó al comienzo del foro pareció tomar a todos de sorpresa. Sin embargo, esta pregunta nos dirige al fondo de la cuestión sobre quienes definen los problemas relacionados con la tenencia de la tierra y quiénes establecen las políticas a favor de su regularización. La mayoría de los programas de títulos examinados en los casos de estudio resultaron largos y costosos; además, una vez puestos en práctica, sirvieron de poco para afectar significativamente el nivel de seguridad o para suministrar servicios en forma sistemática a los asentamientos.
Figura 1
Argumentos Comunes a Favor de la Regularización de la Tierra
En lo que concierne a los sectores pobres de la población, sin embargo, varios de los argumentos a favor de la regularización aparentan ser falsos. Los hogares establecidos generalmente tienen seguridad de hecho y pocas veces consideran la necesidad de un título legal completo como una prioridad, sino más bien como una necesidad asociada con el sistema de valores de la clase media. Es más, una vez que los asentamientos están bien establecidos, las mejoras y la consolidación de la vivienda ocurren en una proporción estrechamente asociada con la disponibilidad de recursos, no con la seguridad del título de propiedad. En relación con la introducción de servicios, la mayoría de los proveedores siguen sus propias reglas internas para definir el tiempo y los procedimientos; pocas veces el título legal es un criterio importante.
Por lo demás, a las familias de bajos ingresos no les gusta endeudarse y no les resulta fácil el incorporarse a los sistemas formales de crédito, aun cuando las organizaciones no gubernamentales y los gobiernos tienden a inclinarse hacia la asistencia por medio de microcréditos. En suma, da la impresión de que cuando los grupos de bajos ingresos desean la regularización de la propiedad es porque el Estado quiere que lo deseen y, consecuentemente, contribuye a construir la demanda correspondiente.
Se podría concebir la regularización de la propiedad como un fin en sí misma tanto como un medio hacia un fin. La regularización como “fin” aparece claramente ilustrada en el caso de Lima, donde el acceso a la tierra y a los programas de adjudicación de títulos de propiedad sustituyen a una política sistemática de vivienda. El ciclo más reciente de adjudicación de títulos (desde 1996) incluye también la retitularización de terrenos anteriormente regularizados, como un campo de patrocinio político destinado a beneficiar al gobierno central a cuentas de los líderes políticos ciudadanos. Una situación similar prevalecía en México con las agencias de regularización múltiplex creadas durante los años ’70. En ambos países la dedicación a la regularización de la tenencia de la tierra aparece claramente señalada por programas activos, que generalmente procesan un alto número de títulos cada año a bajo costo.
En otras partes, la regularización puede ser también un “fin”, pero de importancia secundaria. En Colombia, Brasil, El Salvador y Ecuador, por ejemplo, la adjudicación de títulos constituye solamente una pequeña parte del conjunto de la regularización física. Aún así, la ausencia de propiedad legal y la necesidad de regularización pueden ser utilizadas hacia buenos fines políticos al regular el suministro y el orden de la provisión de infraestructura.
La regularización de títulos como medio hacia un fin se encuentra ampliamente fomentada por las agencias internacionales como parte del Nuevo Programa de Gerencia Urbana del Banco Mundial. México constituye un buen ejemplo del proceso, en donde la adjudicación de títulos de propiedad de la tierra es un requisito previo para la gestión de la tierra urbana, la planificación y la administración pública. La regularización incorpora a la población dentro del sistema del registro de tierras, la base de recaudación de impuestos, los controles de planificación, los permisos de construcción, las tasas de consumo, y la recuperación del costo de servicios e infraestructura. La regularización se convierte en un medio para el sustento y manejo urbanos; esta, más que ninguna otra razón, explica su amplia adopción y aceptación actual.
Un factor notable en varios de los casos estudiados fue la aparente renuencia a regularizar tierras privadas a no ser que la iniciativa tuviera el apoyo del dueño original. Como resultado, los asentamientos con mayores posibilidades de ser regularizados son aquéllos ubicados en tierras públicas o tierras cuya propiedad nunca ha sido cuestionada. Con la excepción de México, los gobiernos se han mostrado renuentes a expropiar tierras con fines de interés social. Varios países tienen un sistema de derechos de ocupación de la tierra que permiten la transferencia de la propiedad después de un cierto número de años de uso comprobado y apropiado. En Brasil, este sistema de usucapión ha sido ampliado recientemente a fin de permitir la transferencia de títulos de terrenos urbanos de propiedad privada menores de 250 m2 que hayan sido ocupados continuamente durante cinco años.
Factores de los programas de regularización jurídica:
La Regularización Física: Urbanización y Provisión de Infraestructura
El segundo campo principal de regularización registrado en muchos de los casos de estudio del foro estuvo enfocado en el proceso de regularización física de distintas formas de asentamientos irregulares. En Medellín, por ejemplo, se estima que aproximadamente el 12% de la población total vive en barrios de crecimiento rápido construidos frecuentemente sobre laderas empinadas, igual que en barrios similares en las laderas de Río o Caracas. Existen indudables problemas y peligros en estas áreas; sin embargo, la mayoría de los participantes en el foro que visitaron los asentamientos de PRIMED se mostraron más entusiasmados por su nivel y grado de consolidación que los propios oficiales locales. (La discusión no se extendió a las intervenciones y mejoras en alojamientos pobres del centro de la ciudad: conventillos, vecindades, cortiVos).
Es imposible describir adecuadamente todos los programas innovadores presentados en el foro, pero uno de los casos de mayor éxito es el programa Favela/Bairro, del municipio de Río de Janeiro. Este proyecto se basó en la estrecha colaboración con los residentes locales para abrir las calles de sus favelas al acceso vehicular y la instalación de servicios. No obstante, es importante reconocer que el éxito del proyecto ha tenido costos considerables: el gasto total entre 1994 y 1997 fue de 300 millones de dólares, suministrados en gran parte por el BID. Esto plantea serias interrogantes acerca de la capacidad de réplica de este tipo de programas.
Factores de los programas de regularización física:
La Regularización como Medio de Integración Social
Durante las deliberaciones del foro se hizo aparente que un objetivo cada vez más explícito de la regularización es el de alcanzar la integración social a través de la incorporación de la población de bajos ingresos a la mayoría social y a la estructura urbana. Esto se manifiesta con mayor frecuencia en referencia al “rescate” de la población de bajos ingresos y de otros grupos marginales y su incorporación a la ciudadanía urbana. Este ha sido uno de los objetivos primordiales del programa favela/bairro en Brasil, el cual, al menos en parte, estuvo orientado a romper los círculos de delincuentes juveniles y tráfico de drogas, y a rescatar a la población local de su influencia.
Un problema potencial de este enfoque reside en que los conceptos de “buen ciudadano” y “mayoría social” son construcciones sociales que frecuentemente están cargadas de valores y que pueden derivarse a partir de una cierta clase social o un grupo dominante del poder. La regularización con motivos de alcanzar la integración dentro de un amplio marco de oportunidades sociales tales como la educación pública y los servicios de salud es una cosa; la regularización a fin de lograr la convergencia social y la conformidad es otra. Sin embargo, la investigación y la literatura sobre este campo continúan siendo incipientes, y la noción completa de ciudadanía con sus correspondientes derechos y responsabilidades forma parte de una agenda todavía poco considerada.
Conclusión
Este foro internacional hizo énfasis en la necesidad de estar conscientes de las distintas razones subyacentes a la regularización física y jurídica en cada país, y de tomar en cuenta que estas razones se encuentran estrechamente relacionadas con los procesos políticos y de planificación. Para que la regularización funcione bien, debe haber un compromiso político genuino tal que todos los departamentos y oficiales que intervengan lo hagan con la mayor integración, cooperación y autorización. También se necesita pensar creativamente sobre sistemas alternativos, sistemas “paralelos” de propiedad, y sobre oportunidades para la real participación del público en la toma de decisiones en todas las etapas del proceso de regularización.
El compromiso y el sustento financieros también son temas importantes. A menos que la regularización vaya acompañada por la recuperación del costo a largo y mediano plazo a través de impuestos, tasas al usuario y avalúos diferidos, los programas continuarán dependiendo mayormente del financiamiento externo y de subsidios, lo cual limita severamente la extensión y la escala de su aplicación.
La interesante última sesión del foro permitió a los participantes reflexionar sobre las futuras direcciones de investigación y análisis de políticas de regularización del mercado de la tierra. Cinco áreas importantes emergieron de esta discusión. Primero, se reconoció la necesidad de identificar a los diversos actores y grupos de intereses involucrados en la promoción del desarrollo de tierras irregulares o ilegales, para empezar, y de hacer explícitas las diferencias entre invasiones de tierras, subdivisiones de propietarios, subdivisiones de empresas y otras acciones semejantes. Se planteó que la irregularidad es generada por varios actores y grupos de intereses con fines de lucro, y no únicamente el resultado de un proceso disfuncional de urbanización.
Segundo, se discutió la necesidad de alejarse del pensamiento dualista y romper con la definición del concepto del mercado de la tierra en términos de la ciudad formal e informal, la ciudad paralela, o los barrios normales y deficientes, todos los cuales implican que los sectores pobres se encuentran atrapados en un mercado separado. En realidad, hay un mercado único de la tierra que está segmentado, no separado, a lo largo de una continuidad en términos de acceso y capacidad de adquisición.
Tercero, se necesita afrontar el problema de la capacidad de réplica financiera de experiencias exitosas y las formas posibles de obtener financiamiento a través de subsidios internos, plusvalías, tasas de valorización, gastos de impuestos, tasas progresivas de consumo, y otros mecanismos. Cuarto, necesitamos hacernos menos los ciegos ante las diferencias de género. Es importante que pensemos con más imaginación al definir las prioridades de regularización para cada género, y que exploremos esquemas innovadores de programas de títulos que respondan a la necesidad de satisfacer los derechos específicos a la vivienda y al domicilio de la mujer.
Finalmente, necesitamos ser mucho más precisos en nuestra terminología y, más importante aún, reconocer que hay una “construcción social” imbuida en el lenguaje. Los términos adoptados por cada sociedad revelan la forma en que esa sociedad ve y diagnostica la vivienda y los problemas sociales relacionados con ella. La terminología puede conducir a soluciones políticas punitivas o condescendientes, e incluso “criminalizar” a sectores locales de la población. Gran parte de las diferencias y variaciones entre los distintos casos de estudio se derivan de la forma en que cada sociedad construye su percepción del problema de la vivienda y la manera en que esta visión es transmitida a la gente: a través de la terminología, a través de las leyes, los procedimientos y las políticas, y a través de la organización administrativa y burocrática del Estado mismo.
Peter M. Ward es profesor de sociología y asuntos públicos de la Universidad de Texas en Austin, y miembro asociado de la facultad del Instituto Lincoln. Entre sus numerosos libros se incluye una “Metodología para el análisis del mercado de la tierra y la vivienda”, editada conjuntamente con Gareth Jones y publicada por el Instituto Lincoln en 1994.