The shift to a multi-racial government in South Africa is as pronounced and dramatic a transition as that of the new independent states of Central and Eastern Europe. In the past five years, South Africa has adopted a new constitution, elected a new government, redrawn state and municipal boundaries, and undertaken basic reform of its legal and political system. Land policy is central to this transformation, for “since the 1913 Natives Land Act, rights to own, rent or even share-crop land in South Africa depended upon a person’s race classification.” (1) Among the major land-related issues currently under scrutiny are property tax reform, restitution of land rights, and improvements in tenure security and access to landholding.
Land and Property Taxation
South African real property taxes take a number of forms, including “site rating,” a tax on unimproved value alone; “flat rating” on land and structures uniformly; and “composite ratings,” which tax land and improvements at different rates. Multiplicity and change are the norm, as Cape Town has recently decided to adopt site rating, Durban is considering replacement of its composite rating system with site rating, and Pretoria has introduced a temporary tax on improvements to supplement its site rating system.
The property tax in South Africa is not at present applied to rural land, although its potential extension to non-urban areas is the subject of intense debate. It is in the cities, however, that the struggle to transform the country will succeed or fail. In 1995, the urban sector accounted for about 65 percent of South Africa’s population and more than 80 percent of its GDP. Property taxes are an important source of revenue for cities to meet the cost of providing services within their newly redrawn boundaries.
These new boundaries are another index of the pace and variety of change in South Africa. Efforts to consolidate wealthy residential and commercial areas with impoverished townships and settlements have taken different forms in different regions. The central business districts of Johannesburg and Durban have been divided among several taxing jurisdictions that extend beyond their city limits. By contrast, the most of Cape Town’s business and residential regions were combined this summer with a set of neighboring townships in a new administrative region. It consists of 19 former administrations consolidated into 7, involving a transfer of more than 10,000 municipal staff and many assets. These measures have extremely important political and fiscal implications, bringing together as they do residential areas with living standards equal to or even surpassing European norms and settlements without electricity, paved roads or running water.
From a land policy perspective, perhaps the most dramatic legacy of past racial policies is the imbalance between white and non-white landownership. Under apartheid, 87 percent of the country’s land was reserved for white residents, who in 1995 constituted only 13 percent of South Africa’s population. Under these circumstances, property taxation takes on special importance as a potential means for expanding access to the land market. Roy Bahl and Johannes Linn have written:
[A]n equity argument may be at the heart of the matter: urban land prices are frequently so high that low-income groups cannot afford to purchase land…. To the extent that the revenue from property taxes is capitalized into lower current land values (since the tax reduces the expected future private yield on the land), it partially expropriates landownership rights from the present owner and also constitutes a loan to future owners, who can now acquire the land at a lower price but will have to pay property taxes in the future. If low-income groups cannot buy land because they lack liquidity and access to capital markets, property taxation may be one of the policy instruments to improve their access to landownership. (2)
Tax Collections and Tax Revolts
The government faces the challenge of reversing a “culture of nonpayment” for municipal services among township residents. During the apartheid era, the African National Congress (ANC) encouraged its supporters to refuse payment of water and utility charges as a means of contesting the legitimacy of the state-sponsored black local authorities. The resulting arrears were a major financial burden on all levels of government. Now the ANC seeks to promote voluntary payment for these same services, and as well as payment of real property taxes by those who now are able to hold title to their property.
Ironically, one tax protest that received wide publicity took the form of a property tax revolt in one of the nation’s wealthiest white residential areas, the Sandton suburb of Johannesburg. When property tax rates doubled and tripled there in 1996, many local property owners withheld payment in protest. This situation illustrates one of the most paradoxical aspects of the fiscal challenge to the new South Africa: the need to redress the enormous imbalance in resources across racial groups while commanding support from white citizens who feel over-taxed.
On the one hand, the disparities in needs and resources are overwhelming. Households falling below the official poverty level include only 0.7 percent of the white population, but 65 percent of the black population. At the same time, many white taxpayers feel overburdened by taxes-income tax rates, for example, can reach 45 percent on earnings over $22,000-and resentful of nonpayment by some township residents. In Alexandra, a black township inside Sandton, last year’s tax collection rate was only 3 percent. Any effort to meet the pressing fiscal needs of the new South Africa must take into account the vastly different perceptions of contribution and entitlement across its diverse population.
Perspectives on Future Directions
In July, a conference at the University of South Africa in Pretoria brought together governmental officials, policy analysts, academics and international experts to consider local government design and fiscal capacity. Brief overviews of two of the more than 30 presentations at that conference give a sense of the range of issues debated there, from concrete points of physical engineering to theoretical questions of intergovernmental fiscal relations.
At the most basic level, the definition of revenue needs depends on a prior decision as to the scope of local services to which all citizens are entitled. Given that large township areas have grown up without standard infrastructure, what goals should the government set for provision of water, electricity and roads?
Peter Vaz of the official Financial and Fiscal Commission outlined an approach to the monumental task of estimating the cost of providing the minimum services that each citizen can expect. The South African constitution enumerates 27 guaranteed rights, including the right to equality, to human dignity, to life, to freedom of expression, to a healthy environment, to housing, to health care services, to sufficient food, water and social security, to education, to information. The Commission is considering attempts to identify three levels of services-basic, intermediate and full provision. It is also looking at the cost of extending six services to urban and rural areas: water, sewerage, solid waste, roads, stormwater, electricity. For example, the basic level of water provision might be a communal standpipe, the intermediate level a yard tap, and full provision a house connection. The capital cost of each service package then provides a first estimate of the revenue necessary to meet the guarantees relevant to local government activities.
The broadest fiscal questions concern the allocation of taxes and functions among levels of governments. Rudolph Penner of the Barents Group stated that his general support for decentralization in transition economies was tempered in the case of South Africa. The model of voters as consumers choosing a set of local services in exchange for payment of local taxes is not necessarily applicable or desirable in this context. The strong ideological background to politics in South Africa means that voters are not primarily making a local electoral choice on the basis of economic policy. Moreover, the history of apartheid makes self-selected homogeneous groupings unacceptable if they lead to segregation by income class or race. Penner concluded that fiscal decentralization in South Africa must be of a more restrained variety than might be appropriate elsewhere.
These considerations serve only to highlight the sweeping reconsideration of all public institutions and their mandates that has accompanied the initiation of a new era in South African history. Improvements in land policy and taxation may play a significant role in assisting this immense task of national self-transformation.
Joan Youngman is a senior fellow of the Lincoln Institute, where she directs the Program on the Taxation of Land and Buildings. She and Martim Smolka, senior fellow for Latin America Programs, served on the faculty of the July conference at the University of South Africa.
Notes:
1. South African Department of Land Affairs, Our Land: Green Paper on South African Land Policy (1996), p. 9.
2. Roy W. Bahl and Johannes F. Linn, Urban Public Finance in Developing Countries (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992), p. 168.
What are the names of South Africa’s official languages?
A recent newspaper trivia puzzle gives a startling perspective on the enormity of the political, legal and cultural changes experienced by South Africa since 1993, and the difficulty foreign observers face in grasping the scope of these transformations.
The original answer to the question about official languages was given as English and Afrikaans. One week later, a correction noted that South Africa’s major tribal languages should also be included. So the full answer lists ten official languages:
English
Afrikaans
Ndebele
Northern Sotho (Sepedi)
Southern Sotho (Sesotho)
Swati
Tsonga
Tswana (Setswana)
Venda, Xhosa
Zulu
Local governments exercise greater land use authority in the United States than in any other advanced democracy. Yet local governments have themselves evolved piecemeal in the typical U.S. metropolitan area, producing a pattern of fragmented authority. Most notably, as metropolitan areas have exploded outward, the local government system has adapted mainly by creating new suburbs and single-function districts rather than by expanding the boundaries of existing central cities.
Illustratively, when Robert Wood studied the New York metropolitan region in the late 1950s, he counted roughly 1,400 local governments. When Jameson Doig and Michael Danielson examined the same region in the early 1980s, the number had grown to 2,200, of which more than 800 exercised land use regulatory authority.
Critics levy numerous charges against this system. Above all, they contend it invites parochialism and, in dealing with issues of regional scale, gridlock. These failings are particularly apparent when the potential ends of land use policy are controversial. But they are visible in many other circumstances as well—wherever, for example, there is substantial risk that the instruments of policy (from regional overrides of local zoning to the siting of new incinerators) will be highly controversial and no consensus has yet emerged about the severity of a crisis that might justify accepting such risk.
In other respects, however, the system is both adaptive and finely tuned to citizen desires. Numerous functions have been shifted from localities to regional authorities and higher levels of government in recent decades, yet the changes have been highly selective and incremental.
When broad agreement has emerged that a particular function—such as mass transit or environmental protection—requires decisionmaking and management at supra-local scale, the political leaders in many metropolitan areas have frequently crafted new institutional arrangements. They have typically defined the new institutions quite precisely, however, so as to avoid sapping local authority any more than necessary to deal with the specific problems that gave rise to the consensus for change. Where large numbers of voters still favor local control, moreover—as, preeminently, in the field of land use regulation—metropolitan-area political leaders have taken great care to avoid disturbing it.
To be sure, certain objectives are all but impossible to realize through this piecemeal, consensus-dependent mode of institutional adaptation (most notably, greater class and racial integration at regional scale, and prevention of urban sprawl). But others (e.g., the preservation of neighborhood character and vigorous grassroots democracy) are accomplished much more reliably than would be likely in a more “rationalized” system.
Balancing Communal and Individualistic Values
Controversies about this system invariably reflect a mix of conflicting interests and values. Since a considerable body of scholarship exists on the interests most commonly in dispute, let us concentrate here on the values.
Americans consider land use issues within the framework of two disparate ideologies: one communal and egalitarian, the other individualistic and disposed to leave distributional outcomes to the marketplace. In any given controversy, self-interested groups organize their briefs around aspects of one or the other of these ideologies. So it is easy to miss the crucial fact that both enjoy near-consensual support. Americans favor both private capitalism and government action to further collective values–each in its place. The disputes typically arise in situations where parties disagree about which ideology ought to take precedence or about how the differing ideological claims should be balanced.
The land use arena is chock full of such points. Ownership is private. Most development initiative is private. And tradition favors viewing land as a market commodity. But most human activities take place on land; the byproducts of land use profoundly affect every aspect of the human environment; and no one is an owner every place he or she goes. So everyone has a powerful stake in the preservation of some common spaces, in society’s rules for behavior in such spaces, and in some regulation of land use “overspill” effects.
Owners themselves, moreover, are eager for collective services. The value of urban real estate hinges critically on the availability and quality of such services, from highway access to public safety to education. In addition, neighborhood characteristics and the level of investor confidence in the neighborhood’s future profoundly affect real estate values. As a result, whether their aim is development or simply enjoyment of what they already have, property owners are drawn inevitably to the public realm.
Within the public realm, however, communal values–including the presumption of equal access to collective services regardless of income or wealth–predominate. This poses a severe problem for relatively affluent property owners who are reluctant to trigger wide egalitarian claims.
The fragmentation of metropolitan areas into independent suburbs, a problem for some, is for these voters a solution. It provides a means of confining the application of communal norms within relatively small population groups. And it makes available to such groups an instrument of extraordinary power for the pursuit and preservation of homogeneity: land use regulation.
Public Regulation vs Market Forces
Pressures have built in recent decades, nonetheless, for public land use action on a wider scale. Some of these pressures (e.g., for major infrastructure investments and for environmental protection) come largely from property owners themselves and do not pose much redistributive threat even when higher-level governments assume responsibility for action. Nearly all of the centralization that has occurred has been in response to pressures of this sort.
A second set of pressures for supra-local action has come primarily from less favored groups and their political representatives, seeking fiscal equalization and residential integration. There have been considerable shifts of money in response to these pressures. But resistance has been fierce to reforms that might force racial or class integration at the neighborhood level. With rare exceptions it has been successful.
The reform idea with the greatest apparent potential to override local land use parochialism would be a shift of some land use regulatory authority to the state level. Movement in this direction occurred in about one-quarter of the states during the 1970s and 1980s. Except in the notable cases of Oregon and Florida, however, the changes were slight, and the historic pattern of local land use autonomy remained firmly entrenched. Concerns about growth, moreover, rather than concerns about equality or integration drove these state land use reforms. Consequently, with weak real estate markets in the early 1990s interest in them has waned.
The question remains whether shifting land use authority from the local to the state level, if it does occur, will be likely to produce more egalitarian and integrationist outcomes than would the existing pattern of fragmented land use governance. One can plausibly argue that it will, stressing that egalitarian norms tend to prevail within (even if not between) U.S. public jurisdictions. Thinking of the immediate future, however, the likelihood is that such shifts will be rare and that, even when they occur, their egalitarian impacts will be meager.
For better or worse, the overwhelming trend of the 1990s, at all levels of government, is toward greater market deference rather than more vigorous public action to achieve redistributive objectives.
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Alan Altshuler is professor in urban policy and planning and director of the Taubman Center for State and Local Government at the John F. Kennedy School of Government, Harvard University. He is also a faculty associate of the Lincoln Institute, which distributes several of his publications. This article is reprinted with permission from the 1995-96 Annual Report of the Taubman Center.
For the past several years, the Lincoln Institute has been collaborating with the Loeb Fellowship Program based at Harvard University’s Graduate School of Design. The program was established in 1970 through the generosity of Harvard alumnus John L. Loeb to allow mid-career professionals to study independently and gain additional tools to help revitalize the built and natural environment. The 2001-2002 Loeb Fellows took their end-of-the-year class trip to Cuba in mid-June, including two days in Santiago de Cuba and four in Havana, with a side trip from Havana to Trinidad and destinations in between.
With its neoclassical facades, white cobbles, Caribbean clouds and pastel paint, Trinidad is frozen in time like a watercolor postcard. Because Cuba’s architectural heritage is the focus of growing international attention and it’s not threatened by waves of new construction, the future of the past seems assured. The future itself is much more difficult to find. As our Loeb Fellowship group searched for clues in three cities and parts of the countryside, we found that despite economic stagnation and international political tension Cubans are hard at work on a future that is uniquely theirs.
An influx of tourist dollars and an aggressive, uniquely Cuban preservation campaign have begun to seize the riches of Old Havana from the jaws of benign neglect. After at least one bad experience with new construction, the Office of the City Historian, which coordinates the impressive large-scale restoration and revitalization of Old Havana, is still grappling with the problem of integrating the new with the historic. One way of addressing the problem is to closely oversee the design of block-sized developments. We walked by one large, modern parking structure inside Old Havana that will be rebuilt as a multi-use building, with parking beside it, according to a design intended to replicate the scale and some of the monumental features of a colonial convent that once stood on the site. Although some residents are being relocated here and elsewhere, many are returning to their homes after their neighborhoods are rehabilitated.
Now considered a model for financing rehabilitation efforts in other districts of the city, the renewal of Old Havana is based on a system of taxes and joint ventures that includes revenues from the private enterprises profiting from restoration-related tourism. The Office’s US$50 million-per-year budget is divided between construction and social supports for Cubans living within the boundaries of the rehabilitation zone. This can be thought of as a system of “value capture,” long a topic of interest at the Lincoln Institute.
Julio César Pérez, a Cuban architect, urban designer and advocate for community-based planning, was a member of our Loeb Fellowship class. With his special perspective as a local practitioner, he showed our group some favorite examples among the rich legacy of pre-revolutionary Deco and Modern architecture in Havana. Five-story gems are set among the very mixed cityscape of central Havana, which also includes the 28-story Edificio Focsa, with its 375 apartment units, built in the twilight of the Batista years.
On the heels of the international style housing blocks and casinos of the 1950s, the revolution brought its own form of land use revision. Julio told a story of Che Guevara and Fidel Castro playing a game of congratulatory post-revolution golf on the vast green of the former Havana Country Club. “How can we make good use of this land?” they mused, according to the legend. The results of their conversation are the grandly metaphoric and mostly unfinished National Schools of Art designed by Ricardo Porro, Vittorio Garratti and Roberto Gottardi. Their stance is deliberately indifferent to the clubhouse or the plan of the golf course, treating the open area as if it were a large meadow in the wilderness. The buildings are slated for restoration, a project made more complicated by poor siting and hydrological problems.
Julio also singled out more recent examples of large-scale construction in Havana, such as the Melia Cohiba Hotel with its bulky, corporate arch and the Miramar Trade Center, a commercial (dollar) mall across the street. These expensive projects are not only design failures, but also miss the relationship of the site with the sea and the possibility for creating a new quality of place in a developing district.
With the stalled economy and international stalemate of the 1990s, Cuban architect and planner Miguel Coyula and his colleagues have made use of the time and materials at hand to take a more thoughtful approach to land use and development. While vertical cities of steel and glass are popping up on a fast track and enormous scale in cities around the world, one of the world’s largest scale city models is being built out of discarded cigar boxes in Havana. This breathtaking miniature landscape was conceived as an aid to planning and an anchor for the efforts of the Group for the Integrated Development of the Capital (GDIC), which has been advising the city government on planning matters since 1988.
The 1:1000 model of greater Havana has been evolving piece by fitted piece for most of the last decade, and now covers 112 square meters or about a quarter of a basketball court. The model is housed in a specially designed, daylight-filled pavilion in the Mirarmar area near the center of the city, where drop-in visitors can circulate around and above the model on the broad floor and ramping mezzanine levels. Scale models of virtually every structure in the city are mounted on the wood topographical base. The buildings are color-coded to show development at different stages in history: colonial, pre-revolutionary modern (1900-1958) and post-revolutionary.
Miguel describes one construction project, a high-rise for the Committee for Economic Collaboration (CECE), which was cancelled because the model showed it was clearly out of scale for its location in central Havana. The decision seems to be a milestone because it was a very real project and also symbolic of a determination to build with environmental sensitivity—despite pressures to accommodate foreign investors in cash-strapped Cuba.
The primary mission of the GDIC is intimately familiar to Americans involved in planning inside major cities: start with neighborhoods. The group has run a series of “neighborhood transformation workshops” for local residents guided by professional designers and planners, selected from the same area when possible. These projects capture the spirit of the international community design movement, a 45-year-old, U.S.-linked tradition in which designers work directly in the interest of area residents. Since both the hard times of the post-Soviet 1990s and the U.S. embargo began taking their huge economic toll on Cuba, these workshops have gained in significance. They have brought planning and economic development together in a new local context, with neighborhoods tackling projects like urban farming and manufacturing building materials from recycled rubble.
The neighborhood transformation workshops and similar initiatives over the last 20 years have helped to bridge the Cuban revolutionary imperative of equal treatment for all and the very human imperative of making decisions about family, community and daily life. Another example is Architects for the Community, a national civic sector community design practice involved in town construction and environmental planning as well as low-fee design services for individual families. Built on the theories of Argentinean architect Rodolfo Livingston, the practice promotes a direct relationship between the user and the architect while building sustainability and contextual sensitivity into each construction project. Julio worked with the practice for five years before coming to Harvard and he presented a paper with Kathleen Dorgan, another member of the Loeb class, at the Association of Collegiate Schools of Architecture conference in Cuba last spring. As an advocate for more humane and thoughtful land use and building design in his country, Julio is among a number of Cuban architects concerned with traditional values of craft and environmentally appropriate design.
Considering efforts like these, there is hope for a future of construction based on a fine calibration of scale, carefully considered relationships between built fabric and natural features of the surroundings, as well as the comfort and pleasure of the users. The challenge is to find the economic and regulatory means to support appropriate construction. So far, the state has maintained control of land use through direct and almost exclusive ownership, negotiating leases for some private and foreign investment through a delicate and extremely tenuous web of economic and legal formulas for valuing the parcels involved. As the economy becomes tied to the influx of outside currencies, these leases are likely to evolve into more predictable and transparent transactions. Perhaps land sales and heftier taxation are not far behind.
With the coming of foreign investment and the pressures to open up to even more, there will be ample opportunity in the future to be hijacked by land use decisions that are driven by the profit margins of distant organizations, and that would be an unfortunate addition to Cuba’s historic burden. Because, despite the beauty of its landscapes and cityscapes, Cuba is a map of victimization—by colonial conquest, crass economic exploitation, revolutionary confrontation, and brutal Soviet-style development.
The Loeb Fellows got an overview of intense nationalism built upon a deep and diverse culture, cosmopolitan history and the very real achievements of the last 40 years. Cuba is a place of great hardship and also enormous potential, for Cubans and for the rest of the world. We hope that the future does not hold only exploitation and cultural degradation when the barriers to trade and international travel finally fall. We also hope to show that Cuba is a place to learn from the mistakes of the past—theirs and ours—and to find out what is possible when a people are free to protect, respect and enhance their environment.
For more information about the Loeb Fellowship Program, see the website at www.gsd.harvard.edu/loebfell.
Loeb Fellows, 2001-2002
Kathleen Dorgan
Architect and community designer, Storrs, Connecticut
Clair Enlow
Journalist, Seattle
Kathleen Fox
Director, Ohio Arts and Sports Facilities Commission, Columbus.
James Grauley
President, Bank of America’s Community Development Corporation, Atlanta
Seitu Jones
Public artist, Minneapolis
Rick Lowe
Public artist and founder, Project Rowe Houses, Houston
Rubén Martínez
Writer, Los Angeles, and professor of non-fiction writing, University of Houston
Julio César Pérez
Architect, urban planner and professor, Faculty of Architecture, Havana
Virginia Prescott
Radio journalist and interactive media specialist, National Public Radio, New York and Boston
Richard St. John
Director, Conversations for the Common Wealth, Pittsburgh
Marina Stankovic
Architect, Berlin
Matthew McKinney was named director of the Public Policy Research Institute at the University of Montana in 2003, after serving for 10 years as the founding director of the Montana Consensus Council. He is also a senior lecturer at the University of Montana’s School of Law, a partner with the Consensus Building Institute in Cambridge, and a faculty associate of the Lincoln Institute. Matt was a research fellow at the John F. Kennedy School of Government, Harvard University, in 2000 and 2002, and a visiting fellow of the Lincoln Institute in 2000. During the past 18 years, he has designed and facilitated more than 50 multiparty public processes, helping leaders and citizens address issues related to federal land management, land use planning, growth management, water policy, fish and wildlife, and public health and human services. He has published numerous journal articles and is coauthor of The Western Confluence: Governing Natural Resources (Island Press, June 2004).
Land Lines: You have a strong background in facilitation and consensus building. How do you apply that to land use planning?
Matt McKinney: I come to planning largely from a process perspective. Land use issues typically involve multiple parties, and the challenge of planning is to integrate diverse, often conflicting, interests. In my current work with the Public Policy Research Institute I operate on the assumption that one of the most effective ways to develop and implement strategies to sustain livable communities and healthy landscapes is to create opportunities for stakeholders to come together with the best available information to address issues of common concern. In short, the planning process is most effective when it is inclusive, informed and deliberative:
This principled approach has been shown through experience to produce decisions that are broadly supported by the public, and it eases implementation because the key stakeholders have already played their part in shaping the proposed action or plan. Compared to lobbying, litigation and other ways of shaping public policy, it can save time and money. Last—and important for planners—this approach offers an effective way to integrate social and political values within the scientific, technical and legal framework of land use planning. It’s a more cooperative and constructive way for planners and public interests to work together.
LL: Can you give some examples of how these principles work in the real world?
MM: In the northern Rocky Mountains, many communities with limited staff, money and other resources are struggling with double-digit growth, strains on local infrastructure and cultural clashes between newcomers and those with traditional western values. But westerners are infamous for resisting government intrusion—a predictable backlash in a region where the federal government holds sway over more than half of the land base. As a result planners often face a steep climb just to gain the public’s ear on land use issues.
These situations are ripe for inclusive, informed and deliberative approaches, and there are many examples across the West. In Helena, Montana, we helped a broad-based citizens group—including open space advocates, neighborhood leaders, realtors and developers—negotiate new procedures for subdivision reviews. Developers wanted to streamline the subdivision application process, and residents of established neighborhoods wanted to ensure that safeguards remained in place to preserve the small-town feel and curb sprawl. In another case, residents of Jefferson County, Montana, started talking about zoning after a cement plant near an elementary school proposed burning hazardous waste as fuel. The “z” word caused some resistance from local business and industry, notably the cement plant and a nearby mining operation, but we brought in a facilitator who helped a working group of local residents, industry representatives, private property rights advocates and county officials develop a zoning plan.
In both cases, negotiations took the form of deliberative dialogue that lasted about a year. Both groups used joint fact-finding to gather information that was credible to all parties at the table. Then they crafted proposals and submitted them to formal decision-making arenas—city council and county commission, respectively. After careful review, both the new subdivision protocols and the zoning plan were adopted essentially unopposed.
LL: What role do planners play in such processes?
MM: We frequently recommend using an impartial, third-party facilitator to help build trust and more effective working relationships among the stakeholders. A facilitator can also keep the group on task and focused on a common goal. In some cases planners can play this role themselves, but more often they act as conveners or sponsors of a multiparty process, or as vested stakeholders and hands-on participants. Either way, planners can participate more effectively if they have a working knowledge of the principles and strategies of collaborative problem solving.
LL: How can planners obtain this kind of training?
MM: Since 1999 the Lincoln Institute and the Consensus Building Institute have cosponsored a two-day introductory course, Mediating Land Use Disputes, for planning practitioners and others interested in land use decisions. It presents practical insights into negotiating and mediating conflicts over land use and community development. Using interactive exercises, games and simulations, participants receive hands-on experience with collaborative problem solving and public participation. They learn how to dovetail these concepts with existing processes for designing and adopting land use plans and evaluating development proposals. In addition, we are reaching out to 100 planners across 10 western states to enroll in the Planning Fundamentals course offered online through LEO, the Lincoln Education Online program.
LL: What other planning-related programs do you teach?
MM: Again with the Lincoln Institute, I have been involved in a relatively new and much-needed program for state planning directors in 13 western states, modeled on a similar program in the Northeast. These seminars provide a forum for leaders within state government to compare their experiences, learn from each others’ successes and failures, and build a common base of practical knowledge that will serve them in their individual efforts and in the region generally. The intent is not to promote any particular approach to planning and growth, but to explore a range of strategies to respond to growth and land use challenges in the West. The level of interest goes well beyond the planning officials themselves, as evidenced by the list of cosponsors: the Council of State Governments-WEST (an association of state legislators), the Western Governors Association, the Western Municipal Conference and Western Planners Resources.
LL: Is regionalism in the West a new emphasis in your work?
MM: Land use issues often transcend political and jurisdictional boundaries. Coping with sprawl, water and air quality, economic development and the effects of globalization demands practical, local solutions that also work within the bigger picture. Research indicates that many land use issues are most efficiently addressed at a regional scale. Instead of stopping at the county line or the border between federal and private land, planners are now thinking in terms of the “problemshed” or the “natural territory” of the problem.
More and more regional initiatives are being designed to address transboundary matters. Some augment existing government institutions, but most are more ad hoc and rely on the principles of collaboration to engage people with diverse interests and viewpoints. When we inventoried such initiatives throughout the West, we were as surprised as anyone by the sheer number and variety of ongoing regional efforts. They range from ad hoc, community-based groups like the Applegate Partnership in the Siskiyou Mountains of southwestern Oregon, which seeks to promote and sustain the ecological health of land within its watershed, to substantial government entities with regulatory authority like the Tahoe Regional Planning Agency (McKinney, Fitch and Harmon 2002).
LL: How do you transfer this work to other regions?
MM: Recently I have worked with the Lincoln Institute to conduct clinics on regional collaboration for several interstate efforts in the New Jersey-New York area, including a watershed management plan for the Delaware River Basin Commission.
Another project is a collaborative effort among local, state and federal agencies in the New York-New Jersey Highlands, the 1.5-million-acre region between the Delaware and lower Connecticut rivers. State and federal land managers are assessing changes in land cover and use, identifying significant natural areas for protection, and developing strategies to protect the 12-county region’s open space and natural resources.
In addition, we have designed a two-day course titled Regional Collaboration: Learning to Think and Act Like a Region. It provides a conceptual framework and practical skills to train planners, local elected officials, small business owners, advocates and educators to initiate, design, coordinate and sustain regional initiatives. With the involvement of several national and regional organizations, the Institute cosponsored the first course in spring 2003 in Salt Lake City and offered it again in March 2004 at Lincoln House in Cambridge.
Reference
McKinney, Matthew, Craig Fitch, and Will Harmon. 2002. Regionalism in the West: An inventory and assessment. Public Land and Resources Law Review 23:101–191.
The inventory is also available online at www.crmw.org/Assets/misc/regionalinventory.asp and www.crmw.org/Assets/misc/regarticle.htm
Related Articles
Carbonell, Armando, and Lisa Cloutier. 2003. Planning for growth in western cities. Land Lines 15(3):8–11.
McKinney, Matthew. 2003. Linking growth and land use to water supply. Land Lines 15(2):4–6.
McKinney, Matthew, and Will Harmon. 2002. Land use planning and growth management in the American West. Land Lines 14(1):1–4.
The sound of electricity hums deep inside the Tate Modern, the power plant turned art sanctuary on the south bank of London’s River Thames. Despite the 4 million visitors per year now streaming inside since the galleries opened in 2000, the switching plant is still generating 2 megawatts of power for its neighborhood, making the Tate one of the most unusual mixed-use urban redevelopments ever concocted.
But an even more far-reaching hum is reverberating all around the Tate—that of regeneration. Connected to central London by the arching spine of Lord Norman Foster’s Millennium Bridge and further magnetized by the whirling mega-folly of the London Eye Ferris wheel nearby, the Tate has catalyzed well over $200 million worth of other redevelopments to the area. Yet, even as it joins other high-end arts institutions in the “Bilbao effect” of high art sparking higher-end gentrification, the Tate is working hard to nurture an economically and ethnically diverse live/work/play urban neighborhood.
“We’ve had impacts,” says Donald Hyslop, head of education for the Tate and coordinator of its community initiatives. “We attract 4 million visitors a year, and 12 million now move between the Tate and the London Eye. The question for us became, ‘How do we spread that wealth?’”
Such models of urban regeneration lured the 2006 Loeb Fellows from Harvard University’s Graduate School of Design to London for their annual study trip abroad, cosponsored by the Lincoln Institute. Aided by Jody Tableporter’s connections as the former director of regeneration for London Mayor Ken Livingston, the group gained a first-hand look at the leaps, stumbles, and lessons to be learned from one of the world’s most rapidly redeveloping cities.
“London has proven the relationship between transportation planning and economic growth,” observed Luis Siqueiros, a planner who has worked in Juarez/El Paso, Guadalajara, and other Mexican cities. “They are mixing all kinds of activities together in their buildings. In North America, we talk about these things a lot, but they are showing us how to do it and why.”
The Beginnings of London’s Regeneration
The story of London’s regeneration is long and complicated. It begins in the Thatcher years with a bold refocusing of government aid to cities that created urban redevelopment agencies and enterprise zones to assemble land and better focus new development and transportation infrastructure projects. The most conspicuous early success was Canary Wharf, the sleek, steel-and-glass commercial new town that became the first major project in the Royal Docklands, and in the Thatcher government’s vision for a larger, regional corridor of redevelopment, dubbed the Thames Gateway, stretching all the way to the North Sea.
Despite the misfortunes of Canary Wharf’s original developer, Olympia & York, the larger Docklands redevelopment agency and enterprise zone resulted in the Jubilee Line tube extension and the first phase of the Docklands light rail line. Today, with more than 100,000 workers, Canary Wharf is competing with downtown London to be the center of the financial services sector, decidedly shifting the momentum of the city’s growth to the east.
While Margaret Thatcher’s free-market programs—particularly the release of huge tracts of government-owned land for redevelopment—broke a long freeze on urban redevelopment, subsequent Labor Party policies have guided recent successes. In the 1980s, forecasts of 4 million new households by 2020 led John Major’s government to create the Urban Task Force overseen by architect Richard Rogers. The resulting 2000 Urban White Paper made urban renaissance official national policy.
The reverberations have been widespread, stretching from Leeds to Norwich, but the epicenter is London. Projects like Canary Wharf and the Tate established momentum that gained further steam with the city’s election of its first mayor, Ken Livingston, to set policy for the metropolitan region’s 24 boroughs. Livingston has unleashed a panoply of internationally attention-getting initiatives, from the much-lauded “congestion pricing” of automobiles traveling into the core to a series of bold, new buildings and public spaces by top-rung architects like Rogers and Norman Foster. Now, with the Olympics scheduled for 2012, London has succeeded Barcelona as the “It girl” of European cities, while luring other English cities onto the dance floor.
“Having an architect like Richard Rogers involved in the destiny of cities was a major force,” Tableporter says. “His work with the Urban White Paper spawned a whole batch of English cities that all of a sudden are attuned to design standards and urban principles via master planning.”
But for all the excitement and the dozens of major projects underway, the Loeb Fellows agreed that London’s growth will live or die in the details. As Jair Lynch, a developer from Washington, DC, put it, “The question is, can they give these new places soul.”
Guiding Land Use Principles
While far more modest than some of the huge redevelopments that have been and are being completed, the Tate Modern offered the kind of careful instrumentality that attracted the Loeb Fellows, by both seeding major new development in the long-dormant south bank and spreading the benefits to the existing community.
Under Hyslop’s guidance, the Tate joined a national pilot program to create one of England’s first Business Improvement Districts (BIDs). This initiative developed an employment training program called START, helping to bring more than 40 percent of the museum’s employees from the nearby, and historically downtrodden, South London districts. It started a new community group now boasting 450 members who wanted more open space, meeting places, and a movie theater. Their efforts moved the Tate to open up rooms for public use, develop a community garden, and host a new neighborhood film club.
“The Tate is trying to create a dual function for an arts institution,” noted Lisa Richmond. A long-time arts administrator and activist who has worked on community development projects for the Atlanta Olympics and the Seattle Arts Commission, Richmond says most major U.S. cultural institutions focus solely on audience development. “On the one hand, the Tate has a major global impact, representing the U.K. to the world, but it is also taking responsibility for its immediate community,” she observed. “I don’t know of any U.S. arts institution trying anything like it.”
By combining a major attraction, top-notch architecture, public space, and transportation infrastructure, the Tate became an early standard setter. But, it is rapidly gaining many potential equals, from the centrally located King’s Cross, where a new Channel Tunnel station designed by Norman Foster is triggering a 50-acre redevelopment with 1,800 new homes plus retail and commercial uses, to the outlying Wembly Stadium, the building and master plan designed by Rogers, including a plaza and grand boulevard lined with shops, bars, and restaurants, as well as 4,200 homes.
The primacy of the pedestrian is another common denominator. With Michael Jones, a director at Foster and Partners, the Loeb Fellows toured the newly renovated British Museum. There, the breathtaking glass roof—gently domed in a Fibonacci sequence of diamond-patterned steel structure—covering the 2½-acre Queen Elizabeth II courtyard has garnered all the headlines. But the restoration of the museum’s forecourt—ripped out in the 1960s for a road—has transformed the area into a new magnet for lunching, lounging, and strolling tourists and locals alike.
Nearby, Jones pointed out the similarly transformed Trafalgar Square. This traffic-choked cameo player has set the scene of “busy London” in so many movies. But it is now costarring in Livingston’s remake of the city through a “World Squares for All” campaign that will link Trafalgar with Westminster Abbey and Parliament Square as a major pedestrian corridor.
“For too long London’s public realm has been neglected and ignored,” Livingston said in a 2005 speech, as he unveiled plans to build 100 new public spaces for the Olympics. “Now we have an opportunity to get things right by rebalancing the spaces of the city for people and cars. I believe that the street is the lifeblood of city life.”
The Loeb Fellows also saw some of the method behind Livingston’s Midas touch in the work of Space Syntax, a dynamic new studio pioneering techniques of measuring and shaping traffic—both on wheels and on foot. Growing out of research at University College London by Professor Bill Hillier in the 1970s, and now a four-year-old company with offices in Sydney, Tokyo, Brussels, and South Africa, Space Syntax has developed new software to algorithmically model impacts on congestion and movement. It is based on a simple principle: people’s urge to take the shortest route.
In early studies of the potential impact of the Millennium Bridge, for instance, the city’s planners guessed it would be crossed by 2 million pedestrians annually. Space Syntax’s formulas predicted at least 4.4 million, but already more than 9 million are crossing the bridge each year. Jones added that similar studies eased planners’ minds about the benefits and impacts of removing streets at the British Museum and Tralfalgar Square.
“Space Syntax is using the traffic engineer’s language for the urban designer’s goals,” noted Etty Padmodipoetro, a Boston urban designer who designed several key open spaces for the Big Dig highway project. “In the United States, we could learn a lot from how they have harvested academic research for use in the profession.”
Challenges to Redevelopment Goals
Such innovations, however, only mitigate some of the risks in London’s bold experiments in regeneration. So far, London’s greatest successes have been catalytic projects within the existing city fabric that humanize the public realm while generating new developments that attract new residents and jobs. On the horizon are dozens of larger-scale projects that will determine whether London’s mastery of regeneration is a moment or an era. Some are widely considered to be mirages, like the Battersea Power Station, where an all-star cast of designers—Cecil Balmond, Nicholas Grimshaw, Ron Arad, and Kathryn Gustafson among them—has teamed up for a Tate-like power station to arts remodel as part of a proposed $1.5 billion transformation of 40 acres into hotels, offices, retail spaces, and flats. But other projects, like the soon-to-break-ground Silvertown Quays, teeter precariously in the gusts of London’s transformation.
Land Ownership
As the Loeb Fellows learned from Timothy Brittain-Catlin, a historian and lecturer at the Architectural Association, enormous swaths of London’s land base are owned by a small number of families who first gained control when King Henry VIII abolished church land ownership, handing the land over to his cronies whose descendants, like the Duke of Marlborough, still control it. In short, most of central London’s land is leased rather than sold. Most of these areas are also protected under the city’s strict historic preservation policies. With Livingston’s hopes of building 120,000 new units of housing in the next 10 years, the success of projects like Silvertown Quays—outside the core, on government-owned land less bound by historic codes and neighborhood NIMBYs—is essential.
Partnering with the Government
But “developing in London is not for the faint-hearted,” even in partnership with the government, according to James Alexander of KUD International, the company codeveloping Silvertown Quays. Borrowing a page from its successful playbook in the United States, in which it has partnered with local governments to build aquariums and stadiums, KUD is working with the Docklands Redevelopment Agency to transform the now largely empty 60-acre Quays site. At the center will be the Terry Farrell-designed Biota!, Europe’s largest aquarium, along with 5,000 units of housing, 420,000 square meters of commercial space, and 73,000 square meters of retail and leisure facilities.
Mixed-use development is new to KUD, better known as a horizontal developer that leverages land values with large-scale infrastructure. But KUD’s techniques are new to London: sharing equity with the redevelopment agency and offering a guaranteed delivery price for infrastructure and the aquarium. Even in partnership with the agency, according to Alexander, getting to a final deal has taken four years—tracing deeds, completing archeological surveys, dealing with watchdog groups, and hopping other regulatory hurdles, not to mention negotiating against Livingston’s demand for 50-percent social housing (talked down to 30 percent).
KUD’s Alexander was candid about the firm’s worries. It will be betting $250 million up front on reclaiming the land and building the aquarium with no profit projected for seven years. The affordable housing goals remain aggressive, particularly with no guarantee that government grants, estimated at $20,000 per unit in the development agreement, will come through. Project delivery also will converge with the Olympics, which is guaranteed to trigger construction inflation and capacity issues. And, with many developers following the current boom and the government’s housing goals, Alexander adds, “an equal challenge will be to maintain value over time as the market inevitably drops off.”
Volatile Housing Markets
Indeed, with more than 90 percent of new housing permits in London’s pipeline designated for flats, a recent study, “New London,” by Knight Frank estate agency predicted a softening market for flats, signs of which are already appearing. More critical, the study suggested, is an already failing market for flats in other, less robust English housing markets that have followed the London model.
Citing a range of studies showing the dramatic tilt nationwide to brownfield/flat development over greenfield/single-family houses, historian Peter Hall also expressed concern in a recent paper presented at a Lincoln Institute conference that government and private developers are failing to meet a critical market for workforce housing, particularly single-family houses for young families. Several Loeb Fellows worried about the continued focus on large-scale, Bilbao-style attractors like Biota!. “The Tate’s BID model seemed potentially ground-breaking,” Lisa Richmond reflected, “while the aquarium (at Silvertown Quays) felt like a disaster in the making.”
Ambitious Plans for Olympic Village
On the 23rd floor of Barclay’s building overlooking the sleek Canary Wharf development and the future Olympic Village beyond, Tim Daniels of the London Olympic Delivery Authority offered the Loeb Fellows an overview of what will be London’s most ambitious attempt at regeneration. The Olympic Village dates to the Thatcher government’s launch of the Thames Gateway corridor, but it is finally sprouting under Livingston’s mix of go-go capitalism with a larger social agenda.
Livingston cannily separated the usual single Olympic authority into two separate agencies—one for building facilities, the other for marketing. Consequently, London is keeping one eye on the long game of what Daniels calls the “regeneration dividend.” In the short term, a new velodrome, stadium, tennis center, and the much-anticipated aquatics center by architect Zaha Hadid, along with a major new Euroline transit hub ushering in visitors from all over Europe, will anchor what will be the first village to fully integrate athletes’ housing with sports facilities. The goal, Daniels says, is to have more than 50 percent of the participants within walking distance. But long after the Olympic Games close, those facilities will anchor a mixed-use neighborhood in which the bedrooms originally built for 23,000 athletes and support staff will become 4,300 units of family housing.
Numerous speed bumps lie ahead, however, ranging from the tough deals still being negotiated for land assembly with owners looking to cash in, to finding new homes for “travelers”—gypsies who under British law have the right to squat on unused land. More than 6 kilometers of rivers and canals need to be dredged and remodeled, and 40 bridges either refurbished or built anew. Since the village site is cut off from any existing neighborhood by a major freeway and rail line, at least two major 50-meter “land bridges” are being proposed to make the awkward link to nearby Stratford.
But challenges aside, “it’s a great way to look at the Olympics,” noted Jair Lynch, a developer and former Olympic medalist who now sits on the U.S. Olympic Committee. “The whole thing can be taken over by the marketing people, but by splitting the authority, they can keep a strong focus beyond the event.” He and other Loeb Fellows concluded that the key for the village, along with all of London’s increasingly larger, bolder efforts at regeneration, will be keeping—and, in many cases, creating—a sense of local connection. As Lynch put it, “How do you create a real sense of neighborhood at those scales?”
Closing Observations
At the end of our study tour, most Loeb Fellows felt that Donald Hyslop of the Tate Modern offered the clearest, most hopeful, and most far-reaching aspirations for London’s bold, new brand of large-scale urban neighborhood building. With architects Herzog & de Meuron adding on to their celebrated first phase with an eye-catching, high-rise annex, the Tate will move out the electrical switching station and reclaim the huge, decommissioned fuel tanks beneath the building for a new 400-seat theater, more restaurants and shops, and more spaces for flexible programming.
Hyslop says the goal will be to develop a “life-long learning center” spawning a “16-hour-a-day” corridor along the 15-minute walk between the Tate and the rapidly regenerating Elephant & Castle neighborhood. Rather than being merely a catalyst for development, the Tate hopes to be an active agent in creating a neighborhood—a transformer, if you will, rechanneling financial and social wealth throughout the community.
Randy Gragg is the architecture and urban design critic for The Oregonian in Portland.
Loeb Fellows, 2005–2006
Teresa Brice-Hearnes, Program Director, LISC Phoenix (Local Initiatives Support Corporation), Phoenix, Arizona
Barbara Deutsch, Urban Greening and Green Roof Consultant, Washington, DC
Randy Gragg, Architecture and Urban Design Critic, The Oregonian, Portland, Oregon
Jair Lynch, CEO, Jair Lynch Companies, Washington, DC
Etty Padmodipoetro, Urban Design and Transportation Planning Consultant, Boston, Massachusetts
John Peterson, Architect, Peterson Architects, San Francisco, California
Lisa Richmond, Community Cultural Planning Consultant, Seattle, Washington
Luis Siqueiros, International Planning Consultant, Mexico City, Mexico
Kennedy Smith, Principal, The Community Land Use and Economics Group, LLC, Arlington, Virginia
Jody Tableporter, Chief Executive, Peterborough Urban Regeneration Company, Peterborough, United Kingdom
Una versión más actualizada de este artículo está disponible como parte del capítulo 7 del CD-ROM Perspectivas urbanas: Temas críticos en políticas de suelo de América Latina.
La rápida e intensa urbanización que se produjo en América Latina en los últimos 50 años se contrasta frecuentemente en la literatura con un sistema de planeamiento urbanístico inadecuado para explicar los múltiples problemas sociales resultantes: alto precio del suelo y especulación en propiedades, informalidad rampante, segregación socioespacial extrema, infraestructura y servicios urbanos inadecuados, degradación ambiental, etc. Sin embargo, la literatura omite, en gran medida, el rol de los sistemas legales nacionales, que han contribuido a esta situación a la vez que también han reaccionado en su contra. El rol central cumplido por el régimen legal no se puede subestimar.
Los sistemas legales también han contribuido al desarrollo informal por dos mecanismos principales: disposiciones legales de exclusión del suelo, derechos de propiedad y normas de registro; y los sistemas de planeamiento deficientes adoptados en muchas grandes ciudades. Tanto la falta de regulación del suelo como la aprobación de leyes de planeamiento elitistas que se niegan a reflejar las realidades socioeconómicas, que limitan el acceso al suelo y viviendas a los pobres, han jugado un rol perverso, agravando, y a veces hasta determinando, la segregación socioespacial. Las disputas institucionales entre gobiernos locales y nacionales sobre el poder para regular el desarrollo urbano también han producido problemas legales adicionales.
La jurisprudencia progresiva, las demandas de varios movimientos sociales y un creciente debate legislativo desatado por los intereses divergentes de las diversas partes interesadas han dado lugar a perspectivas legales en conflicto. Como consecuencia, los debates legales en América Latina oscilan entre las interpretaciones anacrónicas de las cláusulas legales existentes y un llamado a la construcción de un sistema legal más legitimado y socialmente receptivo. Este artículo intenta exponer estas tensiones y ofrecer algunas nuevas direcciones de debate.
La búsqueda de un paradigma legal coherente
En muchas ciudades, los sistemas legales que regulan el desarrollo urbano son significativamente obsoletos e incoherentes, generando un incumplimiento generalizado y una creciente desconexión entre la ciudad legal y la ciudad real. Importantes avances en la gestión urbana, promovidos por administraciones locales progresivas, han sido socavados frecuentemente por los obstáculos creados por regímenes legal-urbanísticos nacionales caducos. En el contexto más amplio de los procesos volátiles de democratización en la región, se ha puesto un énfasis más grande en la posibilidad de que un ordenamiento legal-urbanístico renovado podría avanzar la reforma urbana. Muchos académicos, políticos, funcionarios públicos y organizaciones comunitarias comprenden que la promoción de mercados de suelo eficientes, inclusión socioespacial y sustentabilidad ambiental sólo será posible por medio de la adopción de nuevo paradigmas legales claramente definidos y coherentes.
Los principios legales en general, y en particular los que regulan los derechos de desarrollo del suelo y las relaciones inmobiliarias, se determinan políticamente y se asimilan culturalmente. Los sistemas legales tienden a ser complejos, ya que incluyen disposiciones distintas, contradictorias y hasta en conflicto, adoptadas en el transcurso del tiempo como consecuencia de procesos sociopolíticos en evolución. El mantenimiento de un sistema legal que no exprese de manera fundamental las realidades de los procesos socioeconómicos y político-institucionales que se propone regular genera distorsiones de todo tipo.
La racionalización de un sistema legal es una tarea exigente pero crucial, que requiere la aprobación de nuevas leyes y también un esfuerzo continuo para (re)interpretar los principios y cláusulas en vigencia. No obstante, dicha interpretación puede variar significativamente según el paradigma legal adoptado por el intérprete. Distintos paradigmas pueden coexistir en la misma cultura legal, causando ambigüedades legales y conflictos judiciales potenciales, sobre todo en países donde la división tradicional entre el derecho público y el derecho privado todavía no está claramente delineada.
En América Latina existen tres paradigmas legales en competencia: el derecho civil, el derecho administrativo y el derecho urbanístico. Históricamente, el paradigma civilista hegemónico, que se basa en lecturas altamente parciales de los códigos civiles y expresa los valores del legalismo liberal clásico, ha sido reformado gradualmente por el paradigma más intervencionista provisto por el derecho administrativo. Un movimiento incipiente reciente ha avanzado un paso más, reclamando que sólo el marco más progresivo del derecho urbanístico podría proporcionar un paradigma legal comprensivo para la era contemporánea.
Los códigos civiles y el laissez faire en el desarrollo urbano
La interpretación dominante de los códigos civiles, provista por la doctrina y la jurisprudencia, y arraigada en la imaginación popular a lo largo del siglo veinte, sigue tendiendo a realzar los derechos de los propietarios en detrimento de sus responsabilidades, y no considera otros intereses sociales, ambientales y culturales que derivan de la tenencia de la propiedad. Esta interpretación brinda poca consideración a los valores de uso, ya que la tenencia del suelo y la propiedad se concibe mayormente como una mercancía cuyo valor económico queda determinado principalmente por los intereses del dueño. Los principios tradicionales del derecho privado, como la condena de toda forma de abuso de poder y el requisito de justa causa para justificar el enriquecimiento legítimo, han sido poco menos que ignorados en esta definición poco equilibrada de los derechos de propiedad.
Desde esta perspectiva, el accionar del Estado en la gestión del suelo y políticas urbanísticas está seriamente restringido, y las iniciativas significativas de planeamiento urbano han generado frecuentes conflictos judiciales. Los grandes proyectos públicos generalmente requieren expropiaciones onerosas de suelo, y el pago de compensación se calcula sobre los valores plenos de mercado. Las obligaciones de los emprendedores son pocas y la carga de la construcción de infraestructura y provisión de servicios recae mayormente sobre el Estado. Si bien los derechos de desarrollo y construcción se suponen expresiones intrínsecas de los derechos individuales de propiedad del suelo, no hay un ámbito establecido para la noción de que la administración pública debería recuperar el valor incremental del suelo generado por las obras y servicios públicos. Esta tradición legal ha sido agravada más aún por la burocratización de las transacciones contractuales y comerciales, y también por las exigencias excesivas del registro de propiedades y el acceso al crédito.
Dentro de esta tradición legal individualista, el derecho a usar y disponer de la propiedad se malinterpreta frecuentemente como el derecho a no usar o disponer de la propiedad. Casi no hay obligaciones legales ni órdenes compulsivas más sustanciales. La preponderancia de este paradigma en Brasil, por ejemplo, ha significado que mientras el déficit de viviendas se ha estimado en 7,9 millones de unidades y el pueblo vive en 12 millones de construcciones precarias, otras 5,5 millones de unidades están vacías o subutilizadas. En algunas ciudades se estima que del 20 al 25 por ciento del suelo con acceso a servicios se encuentra vacante.
También es típico de este paradigma del derecho civil el absolutismo de la libertad individual en detrimento de las formas colectivas o restrictivas de los derechos de propiedad, como los derechos de arrendamiento o comunales, de área y posesión. Muchos códigos civiles contienen estos derechos, pero en general se los ignora o subestima. Si bien los derechos de adquisición por prescripción exigen períodos prolongados de ocupación del suelo, hay un arsenal de instrumentos legales disponibles para desalojar a sus ocupantes e inquilinos.
Como resultado de este enfoque laissez faire en el desarrollo del suelo, el ordenamiento urbanístico-legal en las ciudades de América Latina no se puede considerar como plenamente democrático. El proceso de desarrollo informal refleja la realidad de que cada vez más personas han tenido que violar la ley para obtener acceso al suelo y la vivienda urbana.
Derecho administrativo e intervención del Estado
El planeamiento urbano en algunas grandes ciudades ha sido respaldado por los principios legales del derecho administrativo. Este paradigma de derecho público ha intentado reformar la tradición del derecho privado, pero ha limitado el alcance de la noción de la “función social de la propiedad”. Este concepto ha existido en la mayoría de las constituciones nacionales como principio nominal desde la década de 1930. Este paradigma más intervencionista reconoce el “poder de policía” del Estado para imponer restricciones y limitaciones externas sobre los derechos de propiedad individual en el nombre del interés público, respaldando así formas tradicionales de planeamiento regulador.
Éstos han sido intentos tímidos, sin embargo, porque la imposición de obligaciones legales, órdenes compulsivas y requisitos de reservación del suelo siguen encontrando fuerte resistencia popular y judicial. En la mayoría de los países, los tribunales han dictaminado que el Estado puede imponer ciertas limitaciones sobre los derechos de propiedad, pero la imposición de obligaciones sobre los terratenientes y emprendedores ha sido más difícil. Esto es particularmente cierto con las leyes locales que han intentando imponer la obligación de asignar suelos o unidades para vivienda social como condición previa para la aprobación de un proyecto inmobiliario, pero han sido declaradas inconstitucionales.
Muchas ciudades siguen aprobando nuevas subdivisiones del suelo, si bien ya existe un inventario considerable de lotes vacantes. El problema es que no cuentan con instrumentos legales para imponer un uso acorde con la función social. Si bien los emprendedores han sido obligados a asumir una creciente responsabilidad por la construcción de infraestructura, algunos desarrollos significativos, incluyendo comunidades cerradas de altos ingresos, han sido aprobados sin condiciones de reserva del suelo o unidades de viviendas para trabajadores domésticos o de servicio. Ello ha causado la aparición de nuevos proyectos inmobiliarios informales y una mayor densidad de edificación en asentamientos existentes para dar cabida al sector de bajos ingresos.
En algunas ciudades que han intentado imponer códigos de zonificación, planes maestros y otras leyes urbanas complejas, ha emergido una tradición de planeamiento burocrático que refleja una incomprensión de cómo las regulaciones urbanas y ambientales afectan la formación y el movimiento de los precios del suelo. Los urbanistas siguen teniendo dificultades para contradecir la noción establecida de que los dueños del suelo y la propiedad tienen el derecho automático a las ganancias resultantes del planeamiento y desarrollo urbano. En la mayoría de los casos, las administraciones públicas no han recuperado el generoso incremento del valor del suelo producido por las obras y los servicios públicos, como también por los cambios en la legislación urbana que gobierna los derechos de uso y desarrollo de los suelos.
La mayoría de los sistemas de planeamiento no han reconocido la capacidad limitada del Estado para garantizar el cumplimiento de la legislación urbana. Como consecuencia, no se han puesto en práctica dichos planes apropiadamente y muchas violaciones del orden legal han sido ignoradas. En algunas ciudades se tarda años en obtener la licencia para ciertos procesos de desarrollo importantes, como la subdivisión del suelo, lo cual afecta también el proceso de desarrollo informal.
Otro problema recurrente es el desarrollo paralelo y a veces antagonista de regímenes legales urbanísticos y ambientales separados. Las cláusulas ambientales se usan frecuentemente para oponerse a las políticas de viviendas con orientación social. En términos sociopolíticos, la mayoría de las leyes de planeamiento no cuentan con una participación popular sustancial, ya sea en su formulación o ejecución.
Al no cambiar la dinámica de los mercados de suelo, las políticas de planeamiento supuestamente contemporáneas frecuentemente terminan reforzando los procesos tradicionales de especulación del suelo y la propiedad, y la segregación socioespacial. A menudo El planeamiento urbano ha sido ineficiente para promover un desarrollo equilibrado del suelo, y en cambio ha beneficiado a los emprendedores del suelo, inversores en propiedad y especuladores. Estas ganancias se han potenciado por el crecimiento significativo de precios causado por las regulaciones que establecen los límites del desarrollo urbano. Las áreas que han quedado para los sectores urbanos pobres, como los suelos públicos y las áreas ecológicamente sensibles, no son reguladas por el mercado.
Esta tensión entre la interpretación de los códigos civiles y las leyes de planeamiento burocrático ha promovido en la práctica el desarrollo informal y la segregación socioespacial: la ley ha sido uno de los factores determinantes de la ilegalidad urbana. En los casos en que se hicieron intentos significativos para promover la inclusión socioespacial y la sustentación ambiental, el régimen urbanístico-legal sigue sin respaldar por completo la práctica preponderante de gestión urbana.
Por ejemplo, unos aspectos de las sociedades público-privadas y la participación de ONGs en la provisión de servicios públicos han sido cuestionados debido a la confusión entre los valores privados y públicos. Los derechos sociales reconocidos nominalmente, como el derecho a la vivienda, no se han hecho cumplir plenamente debido a la carencia de procesos, mecanismos e instrumentos necesarios.
Derecho urbanístico y principios de la reforma legal
A partir de la década de 1980, un importante movimiento de reforma legal comenzó a cuestionar este ordenamiento legal exclusionista, y un nuevo paradigma ha emergido en algunos países. Los proponentes del derecho urbanístico han argumentado que es posible, y de hecho necesario, analizar los códigos civiles para encontrar principios legales que respalden una intervención decidida por parte del Estado en la regulación y el control social de los procesos relacionados con el suelo y la propiedad. La reinterpretación de principios legales tradicionales, como también el énfasis en principios ignorados previamente (como la noción de que ningún enriquecimiento es legítimo sin una justa causa) pueden coadyuvar a un progreso significativo en la formulación de la política urbanística de suelos.
Este esfuerzo exige conocimientos legales complejos, ya que potencialmente involucra debates legales y disputas judiciales cuyos resultados no son para nada ciertos. Desde el punto de vista de las comunidades urbanas y las administraciones públicas comprometidas a promover políticas de inclusión, este enfoque trata de organizar el marco regulador general, en parte por medio de la promulgación de nuevas leyes que expresen más claramente los principios del derecho urbanístico.
Si bien este proceso está más avanzado en Brasil (principalmente a través de la Constitución Federal de 1988 y la ley municipal de 2001) y Colombia (principalmente a través de la Constitución de 1991 y la Ley 388/1997), se ha incorporado una serie de principios comunes en los ordenamientos legales de otros países de América Latina (Fernandes 2007a; 2007b; Maldonado Copello 2003; 2007).
El principio estructural más importante es la noción de la función social de la propiedad, incluyendo la propiedad pública y el registro de la propiedad. Las ciudades son el producto de un proceso colectivo, y la promoción de un régimen territorial equilibrado es al mismo tiempo un derecho colectivo y una obligación del Estado. El ordenamiento urbanístico no se puede determinar exclusivamente por los derechos individuales y los intereses de los propietarios del suelo, ni tampoco por los derechos del estado únicamente. Se debería promover la intervención pública imponiendo limitaciones administrativas sobre los derechos de propiedad, responsabilidades legales y requisitos de desarrollo.
Otros principios legales similares se pueden usar para establecer una distribución justa de los costos y oportunidades del desarrollo urbano entre dueños, emprendedores, el Estado y la sociedad; afirmar el rol central del Estado para establecer un ordenamiento territorial adecuado por medio de un sistema de planeamiento y gestión; establecer una clara separación entre los derechos de propiedad y de desarrollo/construcción; establecer criterios distintos para calcular la compensación de expropiaciones y otros contextos; reducir el plazo requerido para legalizar la posesión de hecho con el fin de materializar viviendas sociales; y reconocer más firmemente los derechos de los ocupantes e inquilinos.
El uso y desarrollo del suelo es guiado por una amplia gama de derechos colectivos, como el derecho al planeamiento urbano, una vivienda adecuada y un medio ambiente equilibrado; el derecho de la comunidad y la obligación del Estado de recuperar el incremento en el valor del suelo generado por la acción del Estado y la legislación urbanística; y el derecho a la regularización de asentamientos informales consolidados.
Algunas ciudades colombianas han amasado recursos financieros significativos por medio de mecanismos de recuperación de plusvalías del suelo, haciendo posible (si bien no siembre practicable) formular un proceso más sustentable de acceso legal al suelo con acceso a servicios por parte de los sectores urbanos pobres. En Brasil, algunas municipalidades también han podido generar recursos financieros significativos como resultado de sus “operaciones urbanísticas”, donde se negocian derechos de desarrollo y construcción dentro del marco de un plan maestro. También se han promovido en varios países programas de regularización para modernizar y legalizar asentamientos consolidados.
No obstante, la disputa entre estos paradigmas legales continúa, y todos estos nuevos principios y derechos siguen siendo objeto de un debate feroz. La Corte Constitucional de Colombia ha adoptado en forma consistente una interpretación progresiva, respaldando la noción de la función social de la propiedad y el derecho social a la vivienda. Un estudio reciente de decisiones judiciales dictadas por las cortes superiores de varios estados brasileños demuestra que el nuevo paradigma legal ha sido asimilado en aproximadamente el 50 por ciento de sus decisiones, mientras que las restantes siguen siendo orientadas por el paradigma conservador del Código Civil (Mattos 2006).
En muchos países, la jurisprudencia progresiva ha sido restringida por la fuerte tradición del positivismo y legalismo formal, que sigue viendo el derecho meramente como una herramienta técnica para resolver conflictos, como si estuviera completamente divorciado de los procesos sociopolíticos y económicos. La mayoría de los jueces observa el paradigma civilista que se enseña en los programas de estudio anacrónicos de las facultades de derecho. Las decisiones progresivas de jueces locales son revocadas con frecuencia por las cortes superiores más tradicionales.
El segundo principio estructural importante de este régimen urbanístico-legal emergente es la integración del derecho y la gestión en el marco de tres cambios legales-políticos interrelacionados:
Independientemente de las deficiencias que existen en este proceso, el enorme desafío que tienen los países y ciudades al promover la reforma del derecho urbanístico es garantizar el pleno cumplimiento de las nuevas leyes aprobadas.
El derecho a la ciudad
Además de reinterpretar y reformar sus sistemas legales nacionales, los juristas, políticos y activistas sociales de América Latina han promovido un debate internacional sobre un Estatuto del Derecho a la Ciudad, que reconozca plenamente los derechos colectivos. Al mismo tiempo, estos conceptos progresivos acerca de los derechos de propiedad y la naturaleza del accionar del Estado con respecto al uso del suelo y el control del desarrollo han sido enfrentados combativamente por aquéllos que siguen favoreciendo un enfoque incondicional de los derechos de propiedad y la homogenización de los regímenes de suelo y de propiedad.
En este contexto de incertidumbre conceptual, se debe ir construyendo un marco de regulación sobre el desarrollo y la gestión del suelo urbano. El planeamiento espacial es un proceso poderoso; si las leyes urbanísticas han beneficiado por mucho tiempo a ciertos grupos económicos, contribuyendo así al proceso de segregación socioespacial, la promoción de la reforma del derecho urbanístico debería contribuir a crear las condiciones para ciudades más inclusivas y equitativas.
La participación continua de juristas y políticos − como también de agencias nacionales e internacionales, universidades y organizaciones de investigación − es crucial, y puede tomar muchas formas:
La construcción de un nuevo orden urbanístico-legal en América Latina y otras regiones es un debate cambiante, lleno de contradicciones y desafíos, y ninguno de los acontecimientos recientes se puede dar por hecho. Si la mayor politización de la legislación urbanística ha creado un marco más amplio para la participación popular en el proceso de defensa de sus derechos colectivos e intereses sociales, por la misma razón las nuevas leyes han generado una mayor resistencia en los sectores conservadores.
La plena concreción de las posibilidades introducidas por el nuevo ordenamiento urbanístico-legal en Brasil, Colombia y otros países dependerá de varios factores, pero sobre todo de la renovación de los procesos de movilización sociopolítica, el cambio institucional y la reforma legal.
Referencias
Fernandes, Edésio. 2007a. Implementing the urban reform agenda in Brazil. Environment and Urbanization 19(1): 177–189.
———. 2007b. Constructing the “right to the city” in Brazil. Social and Legal Studies 16(2):201–219.
Maldonado Copello, María Mercedes. 2003. Reforma territorial y desarrollo urbano – Experiencias y perspectivas de aplicación de las leyes 9 de 1989 y 388 de 1997. Bogotá: CIDER-Universidad de los Andes/LILP/FEDEVIVIENDA.
———. 2007. El proceso de construcción del sistema urbanístico colombiano: entre reforma urbana y desarrollo territorial. En Fernandes, Edésio y Betânia Alfonsin, Direito Urbanístico: Estudos brasileiros e internacionais. Belo Horizonte, Brazil: Del Rey.
Mattos, Liana Portilho. 2006. Função social da propriedade na prática dos tribunais. Rio de Janeiro: Lumen Juris.
Sobre los autores
Edésio Fernandes es abogado, urbanista y profesor asociado en la Unidad de Planeamiento de Desarrollo de University College, Londres, el Instituto de Estudios de la Vivienda y el Desarrollo Urbano de Rotterdam y varias universidades brasileñas. Ha sido Visiting Fellow del Instituto Lincoln en el año académico 2008–2009.
María Mercedes Maldonado, abogada y urbanista, es profesora de la Universidad Nacional de Colombia, Bogotá e investigadora del Instituto de Estudios Urbanos de dicha universidad. Sus áreas de interés incluyen el significado legal de los derechos urbanos, los derechos de propiedad y la recuperación de plusvalías.
Según la tradición impuesta por los anteriores coloquios sobre conservación, un grupo de conservacionistas provenientes de diferentes sectores y regiones geográficas se reunieron con el fin de ir un paso más adelante, en sintonía con el informe recientemente emitido por el gobierno del presidente Obama sobre “Grandes paisajes de los Estados Unidos” (Consejo sobre Calidad Ambiental 2011), y con un sinfín de iniciativas a nivel estatal y municipal. El objetivo de la jornada fue lograr avances en la colaboración entre propietarios, administradores de suelos y ciudadanos tanto del sector público como privado, sin fines de lucro y académico, en lo que respecta a la conservación de grandes paisajes, así como comprender y ampliar sus conocimientos teniendo en cuenta el ejemplo dado por las diferentes iniciativas de conservación de grandes paisajes que están logrando resultados de conservación medibles y duraderos, lo que redundará en beneficios para las generaciones futuras.
De la misma manera que ahora podemos apreciar el resurgimiento de las White Mountains en Nueva Hampshire –desde su imagen desértica, similar a un paisaje lunar en 1900 a su condición actual, majestuosa y exuberante– los estadounidenses del siglo XXII deberán ser capaces de apreciar de qué manera nuestra previsión para trabajar más allá de los límites de propiedad, jurisdiccionales e incluso nacionales se convirtió en un factor clave de los esfuerzos realizados en la nación por distintas generaciones con el fin de preservar las fuentes esenciales de agua dulce, los productos del bosque producidos en forma sustentable y amplias oportunidades recreativas.
Comentarios de los ponentes
Los ponentes de la conferencia hicieron hincapié en la importancia de la cooperación constante entre las diferentes organizaciones y los diferentes sectores para poder lograr objetivos duraderos. Susan Collins, senadora republicana por Maine, relató con orgullo de qué manera se conservaron más de 800.000 hectáreas de bosques de Maine en los últimos doce años. La senadora comentó: Bosque Nacional White Mountain cerca del pueblo de Berlin, Nueva Hampshire.
“Lo logramos mediante la constitución de una sociedad entre todos los niveles del gobierno, la industria de productos forestales, grupos ambientales, forestales y recreativos, y propietarios. A través de esta sociedad, hemos podido mantener y aún aumentar los niveles de productividad de madera y cosechas, apoyando así una industria de productos forestales diversa y sólida que emplea a decenas de miles de trabajadores en la producción de papel, otros productos derivados de la madera y energía renovable. Al mismo tiempo, hemos logrado proteger la biodiversidad, los bosques antiguos y maduros y el acceso público a la recreación, además de aumentar las oportunidades para el turismo” (Levitt y Chester 2011, 72).
Peter Welch, representante demócrata por Vermont, y Rush Holt, representante demócrata por Nueva Jersey, destacaron la importancia de ser perseverantes en estos esfuerzos. Welch hizo hincapié en el valor de mantener los presupuestos para la conservación de tierras durante la presente ronda de negociaciones sobre el presupuesto. Recordó a la audiencia que, en 1864, el entonces presidente Abraham Lincoln dejó por un instante de centrar su atención en una crisis de dimensiones monumentales —la guerra civil— con el fin de firmar un proyecto de ley para transferir el área de Yosemite al estado de California para uso público y recreativo. Si Lincoln fue capaz de crear el parque Yosemite en medio de la guerra civil, afirmó Welch, nosotros podemos hacer lo mismo en estos tiempos de presupuestos ajustados y volatilidad económica.
Holt centró sus comentarios en el hecho de poder cumplir la antigua promesa de financiar integralmente las porciones federales y estatales del Fondo para la Conservación de Tierras y Agua (Land and Water Conservation Fund o LWCF), al igual que otras iniciativas legislativas, tales como la Ley para la Conservación de Corredores de Vida Silvestre. Holt fue categórico a la hora de animar a la comunidad conservacionista a responder a la necesidad de tomar medidas urgentes por nuestro propio bien y por el bien de las generaciones futuras. Recordó además a la audiencia la advertencia del expresidente Lyndon Johnson, firmante de las leyes originales relacionadas con el LWCF y de la Ley de V ida Silvestre en el año 1964: “Si queremos que las generaciones futuras nos recuerden con gratitud en vez de con pena, debemos lograr mucho más que los milagros de la tecnología. También es nuestro dejarles vislumbrar el mundo tal como fue creado, y no sólo su imagen después de que nosotros pasáramos por él” (Henry y Armstrong 2004, 123).
Peter Welch, representante demócrata por Vermont, y Rush Holt, representante demócrata por Nueva Jersey, destacaron la importancia de ser perseverantes en estos esfuerzos. Welch hizo hincapié en el valor de mantener los presupuestos para la conservación de tierras durante la presente ronda de negociaciones sobre el presupuesto. Recordó a la audiencia que, en 1864, el entonces presidente Abraham Lincoln dejó por un instante de centrar su atención en una crisis de dimensiones monumentales —la guerra civil— con el fin de firmar un proyecto de ley para transferir el área de Yosemite al estado de California para uso público y recreativo. Si Lincoln fue capaz de crear el parque Yosemite en medio de la guerra civil, afirmó Welch, nosotros podemos hacer lo mismo en estos tiempos de presupuestos ajustados y volatilidad económica.
Holt centró sus comentarios en el hecho de poder cumplir la antigua promesa de financiar integralmente las porciones federales y estatales del Fondo para la Conservación de Tierras y Agua (Land and Water Conservation Fund o LWCF), al igual que otras iniciativas legislativas, tales como la Ley para la Conservación de Corredores de Vida Silvestre. Holt fue categórico a la hora de animar a la comunidad conservacionista a responder a la necesidad de tomar medidas urgentes por nuestro propio bien y por el bien de las generaciones futuras. Recordó además a la audiencia la advertencia del expresidente Lyndon Johnson, firmante de las leyes originales relacionadas con el LWCF y de la Ley de V ida Silvestre en el año 1964: “Si queremos que las generaciones futuras nos recuerden con gratitud en vez de con pena, debemos lograr mucho más que los milagros de la tecnología. También es nuestro dejarles vislumbrar el mundo tal como fue creado, y no sólo su imagen después de que nosotros pasáramos por él” (Henry y Armstrong 2004, 123).
De estos debates se desprende claramente que los líderes de todos los sectores se encuentran listos para ayudar a implementar las aspiraciones conservacionistas de cooperación mencionadas por Collins, Welch y Holt. Bob Bendick, director de relaciones gubernamentales de los Estados Unidos en The Nature Conservancy, indicó que “el objetivo general de AGO [America’s Great Outdoors] debería ser el de crear y mantener una red nacional de grandes áreas de tierras, agua y costas restauradas y conservadas, alrededor de las cuales los estadounidenses puedan llevar a cabo vidas productivas y saludables” (Levitt y Chester 2011, 74). En la misma línea, Bendick compartió con el grupo su sueño personal de que, algún día, sus pequeñas nietas pudieran, cuando fueran adultas, mirar desde el arco de la entrada el Parque Nacional Y ellowstone y ver que “en todos los Estados Unidos, 400 millones de personas han logrado organizar sus vidas y actividades en toda la extensión de este país extraordinario de tal manera que han podido reconciliar sus vidas con el poder, la gracia, la belleza y la productividad de la tierra y el agua que, al fin y al cabo, nos sustentan a todos” (Levitt y Chester 2011, 75).
Will Shafroth, secretario adjunto de Piscicultura, Vida Silvestre y Parques del Departamento del Interior de los Estados Unidos, y Harris Sherman, subsecretario de Recursos Naturales y Medio Ambiente del Departamento de Agricultura de los Estados Unidos, compartieron con franqueza sus evaluaciones acerca de la situación actual. Shafroth describió el arduo trabajo y la gran cantidad de comentarios que ayudaron a elaborar el informe de America’s Great Outdoors. Shafroth, por su parte, resaltó que, aunque dicho trabajo sirve como buen fundamento para los esfuerzos que se realicen en el futuro, sostener el impulso conservacionista en estos tiempos de rígidas limitaciones presupuestarias exige una gran cuota de creatividad y pensamiento proactivo.
Sherman agregó que la idea integral de conservación de paisajes implica que debemos pasar de llevar a cabo únicamente actos de conservación al azar a fomentar iniciativas a gran escala más integrales y colaborativas, en las que se pueda involucrar a muchas agencias y tipos de propietarios. Resaltó además la importancia especial que tendrán los resultados del debate sobre el proyecto de Ley de Granjas de 2012, ya que las disposiciones conservacionistas que incluye dicho proyecto tendrán una importancia crucial para el éxito de las medidas tendientes a la conservación de paisajes.
El entusiasmo por la conservación de grandes paisajes demostrado por los ponentes provenientes del público en general y de las organizaciones sin fines de lucro se vio apoyado aún más por Jim Stone, propietario particular y administrador de un rancho en el Valle Blackfoot de Montana. Stone fue uno de los fundadores del Desafío Blackfoot, una organización popular que, mediante un enfoque centrado en la conservación de paisajes, ha logrado impresionantes resultados medibles en los últimos 30 años.
Jamie Williams, colega de Stone y miembro de The Nature Conservancy, explicó que el Desafío Blackfoot ha logrado un éxito extraordinario en todos estos años debido a que se tomaron el tiempo necesario para involucrar a gran cantidad de propietarios y socios mediante un enfoque basado en el consenso sobre la conservación. Los pequeños éxitos iniciales fueron de suma importancia a la hora de generar confianza para lograr los exitosos resultados posteriores (Williams 2011). En lo que respecta a la recuperación de arroyos solamente, el Desafío Blackfoot logró involucrar a más de 200 propietarios en unos 680 proyectos sobre 42 arroyos y 960 kilómetros de arroyos, lo que ha dado como resultado directo un aumento del 800 por ciento en las poblaciones de peces en el valle de más de 607.000 hectáreas. Stone es categórico al afirmar que, con la gente correcta en los lugares correctos, lo que se logró en la región de Blackfoot podría también lograrse en toda la nación.
El programa se completó con un panel de investigadores y funcionarios académicos que representaban a distintas universidades, facultades e instituciones de investigación dedicados a la tarea de catalizar las iniciativas de conservación de grandes paisajes. Matthew McKinney, de la Universidad de Montana, moderó un debate junto con David Foster, de Harvard Forest y la Universidad de Harvard, Perry Brown, de la Universidad de Montana, y Karl Flessa, de la Universidad de Arizona. Los panelistas analizaron de qué manera las instituciones, tanto en sus actividades internas como de extensión, pueden utilizar sus capacidades analíticas y su poder de convocatoria con el fin de fomentar las iniciativas para obtener un amplio impacto.
Perry Brown señaló que las universidades que van a representar un papel en las iniciativas de conservación en el mundo real no serán aquellas que permanezcan aisladas sino, por el contrario, las que mantengan relaciones con socios no académicos, tales como tribus indígenas, agencias gubernamentales federales y estatales y organizaciones sin fines de lucro, ya sean de gran envergadura a nivel nacional como de menor escala a nivel municipal. David Foster reforzó esta idea describiendo las actividades de extensión llevadas a cabo por Harvard Forest con el fin de elaborar y divulgar su reciente informe sobre Tierras V írgenes y Bosques en Nueva I nglaterra (Foster y otros 2009).
Casos de conservación de grandes paisajes
En todo el país, existen casos ejemplares de conservación de grandes paisajes que han experimentado progresos in situ, desde M aine hasta M ontana y desde el sur de Arizona hasta el norte de Florida. Uno de los casos más importantes que ha estado en funcionamiento por más tiempo se encuentra en la cuenca ACE, en las famosas tierras bajas de Carolina del Sur. La cuenca ACE, formada por más de 140.000 hectáreas que desembocan en los ríos Ashepoo, Combahee y Edisto Sur, entre Charleston y Beaufort, es uno de los mayores estuarios sin desarrollar de todo el litoral atlántico de los Estados Unidos (ver figura 1).
A fines de la década de 1980, un grupo de organizaciones públicas, privadas y sin fines de lucro unieron sus esfuerzos con el fin de crear una sociedad que protegiera las excepcionales fuentes de agua, la vida silvestre y los paisajes de la región. Entre los miembros de la Sociedad de la Cuenca ACE se encuentran agencias federales, como el Servicio de Piscicultura y V ida Silvestre y la Administración Nacional de Océanos y Atmósfera; agencias estatales, como el Departamento de Recursos Naturales de Carolina del Sur; organizaciones nacionales sin fines de lucro, como The Nature Conservancy y Ducks Unlimited
Los miembros de esta sociedad han logrado conservar más de 54.225 hectáreas, que constituyen una superficie contigua en el centro mismo de la cuenca ACE que une derechos de servidumbre sobre terrenos privados, un Refugio Nacional de Vida Silvestre, las Áreas de Administración de Vida Silvestre de Carolina del Sur y un centro interpretativo natural e histórico del condado de Charleston, entre otras propiedades.
En su calidad de iniciativa de conservación de paisajes de gran envergadura, la cuenca ACE se destaca realmente entre otros proyectos. Mark Robertson, director ejecutivo de The Nature Conservancy en Carolina del Sur, indicó que este esfuerzo “estableció un estándar en cuanto a la forma de implementar proyectos de conservación a gran escala mediante la colaboración de los propietarios particulares, los grupos conservacionistas y las agencias gubernamentales”. Al preguntársele acerca de la importancia de los progresos obtenidos en la cuenca ACE hasta la fecha, Dana Beach, directora de la Liga de Conservación Costera, responde categóricamente: “La importancia central tiene que ver con el hecho de que, por primera vez, estas tareas de conservación les han brindado a muchas personas la esperanza de que un lugar de tanta importancia no caerá inevitablemente en el desarrollo” (Holleman 2008).
Próximos pasos
El coloquio sobre liderazgo en conservación concluyó con un acuerdo general en cuanto a que todavía queda mucho por hacer y que esta es una oportunidad histórica para extender el progreso logrado inicialmente en el campo de la conservación de grandes paisajes. El debate acerca de los próximos pasos que deben darse se organizó en torno a cuatro tipos de iniciativas.
Coloquios sobre políticas de conservación
Resulta necesario continuar estos coloquios sobre políticas de conservación, tanto entre los conservacionistas de los sectores público, privado, sin fines de lucro y académico como entre la comunidad conservacionista y los responsables a nivel local, estatal y federal, que deberán centrarse en las oportunidades que actualmente se presentan para llevar a cabo iniciativas de conservación de grandes paisajes en toda la nación. En estos encuentros deberían darse a conocer los casos de éxito que han involucrado propiedades orientadas tanto a la cultura como a la naturaleza (ya que ambos tipos de conservación son muy valorados por el público); tener en cuenta las medidas de conservación que se están tomando a nivel regional; y pensar imaginativamente en otras nuevas.
En cuanto a la esfera política, estos coloquios deberían estar conectados con los comités conservacionistas en los diferentes niveles de gobierno (municipal, del condado, estatal, federal e internacional). Dentro de los contextos de organizaciones sin fines de lucro y académico, el diálogo debería producirse entre las diferentes disciplinas y cruzar los límites institucionales. Dichos debates intersectoriales e interdisciplinarios probablemente den como resultado soluciones creativas e ideas novedosas. Aunque en estos debates se aproveche la naturaleza socialmente neutra de las universidades en su calidad de coordinadoras, no por ello deben dejar de dar respuesta a los problemas prácticos y reales que sean causas significativas de preocupación para los profesionales del campo y los propietarios.
Investigación
Otra necesidad inmediata es la de actualizar los mapas e inventarios existentes (como por ejemplo, la base de datos de la Sociedad de Paisajes del Noreste de la Asociación para el Plan Regional) con el fin de ofrecer una visión más completa de las iniciativas que se encuentran en marcha, ya sean públicas, privadas o sin fines de lucro. Por otro lado, un panorama general más amplio acerca de los esfuerzos realizados a nivel nacional resultaría muy útil para los grupos y redes que trabajan con el fin de fomentar la práctica de la conservación de grandes paisajes. Entre estos grupos se cuentan la Red de Profesionales para la Conservación de Grandes Paisajes, un programa del I nstituto Lincoln, y las Cooperativas para la Conservación de Paisajes (Landscape Conservation Cooperatives o LCC) del Servicio de Piscicultura y Vida Silvestre de los Estados Unidos.
Todos estos esfuerzos de investigación podrían resultar mucho más pertinentes y rentables si implicaran la cooperación entre una amplia gama de organizaciones públicas y privadas. Y podrían, además, fomentar el aumento de las iniciativas de educación medioambiental, que ya se cuentan con cuentagotas.
También se precisa una mayor investigación para medir el impacto, el rendimiento a lo largo del tiempo y los resultados de las iniciativas de conservación de grandes paisajes, así como también para identificar los factores claves de éxito de aquellas iniciativas que sean capaces de demostrar resultados significativos medibles. Una investigación particularmente importante sería aquella capaz de identificar dónde, cuándo y cómo ciertos esfuerzos logran prestar servicios mejorados y medibles para el ecosistema, tales como una mejor calidad del agua, un mayor crecimiento en las poblaciones de vida silvestre y una mayor producción sustentable de productos derivados de los bosques.
Redes
Recientemente se han creado, o están emergiendo, una importante cantidad de redes dedicadas a los grandes paisajes, tales como la Red de Profesionales para la Conservación de Grandes Paisajes y las LCC mencionadas anteriormente. A medida que estas redes evolucionen, es muy probable que vayan apoyándose unas en otras a escalas geográficas cada vez mayores, aunque también deberán centrar sus esfuerzos en compartir sus conocimientos y desarrollar capacidades a nivel local con el fin de obtener resultados duraderos. Sin perjuicio de la necesidad de tener los pies en la tierra, estas redes tienen la oportunidad de conseguir socios internacionales que tengan algo que enseñar. Dentro de sus propios territorios, las redes de conservación de grandes paisajes deben conectarse con distintos electorados, como filántropos interesados en la conservación de grandes paisajes, cuerpos docentes y estudiantes universitarios, agencias públicas y, lo que es más importante, propietarios particulares y administradores de terrenos.
Demostración e implementación
Dadas las fuertes restricciones que se esperan en los nuevos programas de conservación a nivel federal, estatal y local para los próximos años, los participantes centraron gran parte de su atención en la utilización creativa de los presupuestos existentes para la conservación de paisajes. Uno de los participantes destacó el papel significativo que ya está representando el Departamento de Defensa al conservar y limitar el desarrollo en los terrenos adyacentes a las reservas militares activas. Dichos programas se utilizan en la actualidad para proteger de forma efectiva los distintos hábitats y tierras de trabajo del desarrollo, y para limitar la fragmentación de los paisajes. Asimismo, estos programas podrán utilizarse en el futuro para tratar los problemas relacionados con la protección de las fuentes de agua. Otro de los participantes mencionó la importancia que podrían tener los presupuestos estatales y federales para el transporte, los cuales podrían utilizarse con el fin de mitigar el impacto negativo que generan las nuevas carreteras y autopistas.
Particular entusiasmo mostraron varios participantes de sociedades formadas por organizaciones públicas, privadas y sin fines de lucro que poseen una reconocida trayectoria en la protección y mejoramiento de recursos naturales y culturales de gran valor local para constituir la médula de una infraestructura ecológica regional. A modo de ejemplo, podemos mencionar Santa Fe, Nuevo México; la cuenca Chattahoochee/Apalachicola en Georgia, Mississippi y Florida; la Corona del Continente, en Montana, Alberta y la Columbia Británica; y las tierras altas de Nueva Jersey.
Otras oportunidades de financiamiento para las iniciativas de conservación de grandes paisajes incluyen incentivos estatales para la protección de terrenos privados que pueden utilizarse como fondos de contrapartida en relación con ciertos programas federales (como por ejemplo, los fondos de contrapartida necesarios para el financiamiento establecido por la Ley de Conservación de Pantanos de Norteamérica); programas comunitarios de protección de bosques que, en la actualidad, están adquiriendo impulso en toda la nación; oportunidades especiales de Inversiones Relacionadas con el Programa (Program-Related Investmentso PRI) para fundaciones; y mercados emergentes dedicados a los servicios de protección de ecosistemas que reciben apoyo de las políticas federales y de las sociedades formadas por organizaciones públicas y privadas, entre los que se incluyen los mercados bancarios estatales de mitigación para los créditos destinados al carbón, tales como los de California.
Conclusión
A pesar de las evidentes restricciones presupuestarias a nivel federal, se encuentran disponibles incontables oportunidades para llevar a cabo proyectos de conservación a escala expansiva, con un enfoque de extensión, capaces de lograr resultados de conservación medibles y duraderos. Los propios participantes de la conferencia ofrecieron claras muestras de que el concepto de conservación de grandes paisajes se ha extendido y ahora pueden observarse iniciativas en todo el continente. Estos participantes y sus colegas, tanto aquí como en el exterior, se encuentran hoy a la vanguardia — y lo seguirán estando— en las iniciativas para la protección de la naturaleza dentro del contexto de los valores humanos, en proporción a los desafíos conservacionistas a los que se enfrentan.
Coloquio sobre Liderazgo en Conservación
El primero de marzo de 2011, el Lincoln Institute of Land Policy celebró su décimo Coloquio sobre Liderazgo en Conservación anual, centrado en “El futuro de la conservación de grandes paisajes en los Estados Unidos”. La sesión fue organizada por James N. Levitt, fellow del Instituto Lincoln, con la colaboración de Armando Carbonell, senior fellow y director del Departamento de Planificación y Forma Urbana. La jornada tuvo lugar en el Salón de miembros del Congreso de la Biblioteca del Congreso, justo enfrente del Capitolio de los EE.UU. en Washington, DC, coincidiendo con el centésimo aniversario de la fecha en que el expresidente William Howard Taft suscribió la ley que permitió la creación de bosques nacionales en la región este del país, lo que marcó un hito en la legislación. La Ley Weeks de 1911, así llamada en honor al congresista (y más tarde senador) de Massachusetts John Wingate Weeks modificó la esencia del conservacionismo en cooperación, al permitir la participación de ciudadanos activos en los sectores público, privado, sin fines de lucro, académico y de investigación de los Estados Unidos.
Sobre el Autor
James N. Levitt es fellow del Departamento de Planificación y Forma Urbana del Lincoln Institute of Land Policy y director del Programa de Innovaciones sobre la Conservación de Harvard Forest, Universidad de Harvard.
Referencias
Consejo sobre Calidad Ambiental. 2011. “America’s great outdoors: A promise to future generations”. Washington, DC: Imprenta gubernamental. http://americasgreatoutdoors. gov/report
Foster, D., D. Kittredge, B. Donahue, K. Fallon Lambert, M. Hunter, L. Irland, B. Hall, D. Orwig, A. Ellison, E. Colburn, A. D’Amato y C. Cogbill. 2009. “Wildlands and woodlands: A vision for New England”. En Harvard Forest Paper 32. Petersham, MA: Harvard Forest.
Henry, Mark y Leslie Armstrong. 2004. “Mapping the future of America’s national parks: Stewardship through geographic information Systems”. Redlands, CA: ESRI.
Holleman, Joey. 2008. “Ace Basin: Protected forever”. En The State, Local/Metro Section, 10 de noviembre. http://www.thestate.com/2008/11/10/584599/ace-basin-protected-forever.html#ixzz1W3yQd7KP.
Levitt, James N. y Charles N. Chester. 2011. “The future of large landscape conservation in America”. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy. http://www.lincolninst.edu/pubs/1916_The-Future-of-Large-Landscape-Conservation-in-America.
Williams, Jamie. 2011. “Scaling up conservation for large landscapes”. En Land Lines 23(3): 8–13. https://www.lincolninst.edu/pubs/dl/1923_1246_LLA_071103.pdf.
Otros Recursos
Levitt, James N., ed. 2005. “From Walden to Wall Street: Frontiers of conservation finance”. Washington, DC: Island Press y Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.
———. 2010. “Conservation Capital in the Americas: Exemplary Conservation Finance Initiatives”. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy, en colaboración con Island Press, el Instituto Ash para el Gobierno y la Innovación Democrática de la Facultad Kennedy de Harvard y el Centro de Estudios Latinoamericanos David Rockefeller de la Universidad de Harvard.
McKinney Matthew J. y Shawn Johnson. 2009. “Working across boundaries: People, nature, and regions”. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.
McKinney, Matthew J., Lynn Scarlett y Daniel Kemmis. 2010. “Large landscape conservation: A strategic framework for policy and action”. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.
Land trusts across the United States differ vastly in terms of age, size of protected acreage, mission, strategy, budget, and context. Audrey Rust, an acknowledged conservation leader and the 2012 Kingsbury Browne Fellow at the Lincoln Institute, is in a unique position to parse the differences between two strikingly distinct yet successful preservation efforts in the American West. She served as president and CEO of the Peninsula Open Space Trust (POST) in Palo Alto, California, for 24 years until July 2011, and she is now a board member of the American Prairie Reserve (APR) in Bozeman, Montana.
APR is one of the nation’s most ambitious new conservation efforts, aiming to assemble 3.5 million acres and create the largest wildlife complex in the lower 48 states—in Montana, the nation’s fourth largest state with the seventh smallest population (just one million as of 2012). By contrast, POST encompasses only 2 percent of APR’s projected acreage, yet is considered remarkably successful for amassing 70,000 acres of very expensive open space, farms, and parkland in a densely settled region, from San Francisco to Silicon Valley, with more than seven million inhabitants.
Despite their dissimilar profiles, these organizations share a surprising number of similarities. In this Q&A with the Lincoln Institute, Rust compares POST’s and APR’s particular histories and characteristics, based on her first-hand experience with each organization, and offers some universal lessons for all involved in the difficult and challenging work of preserving open space.
Lincoln institute: How did the Peninsula Open Space Trust begin and what is its mission?
Audrey Rust: POST is a 35-year-old, traditional land trust in a dense metropolitan region, which has grown significantly since POST was founded in 1977. It began as a private conservation partner for the Midpeninsula Regional Open Space District, a public, tax-supported agency on the San Francisco Peninsula (figure 1). Working on the urban fringe, POST would raise private funds on behalf of the District and take on an occasional land donation project. To this day, all the territory it protects lies within a major metropolitan area.
Given POST’s densely populated location, it was essential from the beginning to immediately include opportunities for low-intensity public recreation and provide exposure to the biodiversity of the peninsula, where within a 12-mile transect one can pass through at least nine distinct ecosystems. POST works to assure a system of interconnected open lands in corridors along the San Francisco Bay, the Santa Cruz Mountains, and the Pacific Coast. No specific number of total acres is contemplated, unless a particular campaign is underway, but giving people a place to experience nature is a driving force.
Lincoln institute: How do the genesis and mission of the American Prairie Reserve compare?
Audrey Rust: Since it was founded in 2002, APR has amassed 274,000 acres but seeks to permanently protect some 3.5 million contiguous acres of short-grass prairie as a wildlife reserve in northeastern Montana—one of only four places on earth where such a conservation effort is possible (figure 2). The idea originated from research done by a group of nonprofit conservation organizations working in the northern Rockies, with science assistance from the World Wildlife Fund at the start.
APR is reintroducing plains bison that are free of cattle gene introgression and intends to develop a sustainable herd of 10,000 animals while restoring other native species including prairie dogs, black-footed ferrets, and burrowing owls. APR acquired a lot of land quickly, but it will take decades to reintroduce wildlife and foster significant growth of species populations.
Federal lands form a large part of the wildlife habitat APR is assembling. The Reserve lands are adjacent on the south to the Charles M. Russell National Wildlife Refuge and on the west to the Upper Missouri River Breaks National Monument, which figures prominently in our nation’s history as part of the Lewis and Clark expedition.
Lincoln institute: What are the key challenges for POST and APR?
Audrey Rust: Funding any conservation work is always the biggest challenge. The first hurdle is identifying potential donors and getting their attention. To do that, you need a clearly articulated vision and the ability to make the project relevant to the potential donor. Validation of the mission from a third respected party is key. You also need some means for the donor to experience the relevant work and feel appropriately included, in addition to a well-developed relationship that results in an appropriate request for support made at the right time.
Lincoln institute: What are the particular funding challenges at POST?
Audrey Rust: In the San Francisco Bay Area, millions of people see and appreciate how proximity to nature enhances their quality of life, but most do not know the role POST plays in assuring this; or, if they do know, they don’t necessarily feel moved to support POST’s work financially. Competition for philanthropic dollars within the small geographic area of Silicon Valley is intense. All the major conservation organizations, plus Stanford University’s powerful fundraising machine, operate in the area.
Fundraising takes a traditional course at POST. There is a well-developed annual giving program that moves many donors to the upper capital gift levels. Many of them are willing to lend their networks to the effort, and because of the successes of the organization and the existing donor list, people feel comfortable and supported by their community when making a gift. POST’s model has also depended on finding and creating public funds and then selling land or easements to a public entity, at or below the price paid by POST, allowing the organization to return donor funds to be used again and again.
POST also faces the challenge of success. Often leadership-level donors are ready to move on to new ideas and new environmental issues, seeing that their personal impact is not as visible as it would be in starting their own new organization. Some donors feel they have done their part, and now it’s someone else’s turn. New top leadership-level donors are as difficult as ever to attract.
Lincoln institute: How do APR’s mission and goals affect its fundraising strategy?
Audrey Rust: APR faces what is often called a “pipeline” problem. As a relatively new organization—and one where the potential donor population is both scattered and at a great distance from the Reserve—finding the right people has required many false starts and unproductive gatherings. It has been difficult to expose potential donors to the project in ways that can build a philanthropic relationship. Although board members are willing, only a few have networks that have proven productive for APR. It’s difficult and expensive to assess the real interest of a potential donor, estimate his or her likely gift level, and develop an ongoing relationship with a person who is geographically removed. As yet, status is not associated with being a supporter, and the enormity of the campaign goal ($300 million to $500 million) dwarfs even million-dollar gifts. Any practical campaign would need to attract a gift of $80 million to $100 million at the top of the fundraising pyramid.
Building a productive leadership-level prospect list is only worthwhile if meetings and relationships can happen. Geography creates difficulties when there are not enough people in one area, and efforts can’t be leveraged. Time is a key element in building the needed relationships.
Because of its rare size and scope, however, APR may have singular appeal to extremely wealthy individuals who, like the Rockefellers decades ago, could create this Reserve with their philanthropy alone. This is the unfulfilled dream of every executive director. Chances are slim, but history shows it is possible. APR’s model has never looked to public funding as a way to leverage private dollars, since the leased public lands are in some measure doing just that.
Another key funding challenge for APR is the scale of the project. Impact comes in increments of 50,000 or 100,000 acres in a landscape where conservation biologists have determined that a mixed-grass prairie would need to be approximately 5,000 square miles (roughly 3.2 million acres) to be a healthy, functioning ecosystem that supports the full complement of native prairie biodiversity.
Lincoln institute: How has the leadership at both organizations handled the funding challenges?
Audrey Rust: At both APR and POST, the first president/executive director, who also served as a board member, had a solid business background but no experience fundraising or running a nonprofit organization. The second board chair of both organizations was a successful venture capitalist and was viewed as a founder. All these leaders were charismatic and well-connected. Last but not least, both founding executive directors had to contribute or lend substantial funds to the organization to keep it afloat.
APR’s founding President Sean Gerrity is still at the helm after ten years, and his passion for conservation is undiminished. The time needed for extensive travel and meeting the financial needs of the organization was more than a full-time job, however, and none of the development professionals he hired could relieve his load. On the premise that potential donors want to meet someone with a title, two years ago Gerrity made a major change in how the organization functions by hiring two managing directors who are able to carry a significant fundraising and content load. The strategy requires regular telephone or in-person meetings to stay aligned on all aspects of the organization, but it’s working. Organizing around the managing director model has allowed APR staff to travel more and develop better donor relationships. Current personnel have been in place for fewer than two years, but they are making progress.
Lincoln institute: How did you weather the fundraising challenge at POST?
Audrey Rust: When POST hired me to replace Founding Executive Director Robert Augsburger in 1986, my first mission was to raise $2 million in a few months in order to exercise an option on a key coastal ranch, POST’s first truly independent project.
I understood the local donor community and had a good deal of experience in fundraising and nonprofit management. I was completely absorbed by the work and the need to meet our financial obligations. Although travel usually wasn’t necessary to raise funds, the proximity of potential donors meant that every weekend, every farmer’s market, every local event was an opportunity to connect. We undertook one major project after another, doing good conservation work and building momentum, but I was exhausted.
To solve this problem, I also found really good staff people. My approach, however, was traditional: Get enough money in the bank to hire adequate staff and ensure one of them was a young lawyer with potential to take on additional responsibilities and leadership. I would continue doing large-gift fundraising as well as oversee key land acquisition strategy and negotiation, and others would take over more of the day-to-day work and administration. The ability to grow the staff and delegate some of the work was a major step forward for me and the organization.
Lincoln institute: What has been POST’s basic approach to land acquisition and how has that affected its financial strategy?
Audrey Rust: Both POST and APR want to connect existing public lands through acquisition of adjacent, privately held property, and both have treated local conservation entities as key allies in the task of preserving biodiversity, providing public access, and creating a larger vision of a protected landscape. Their different basic land conservation strategies, however, lead to very different funding patterns and long-term financial impacts.
POST plans to transfer all the land it protects, and most of it will go into public ownership as federal, state, and county parks or to one of the regional open space districts for its management and permanent protection. Agricultural land, protected by strict conservation easements, is sold to local farmers. POST retains the easements along with an easement endowment fund to assure their monitoring and compliance.
The first project POST undertook in the late 1970s resulted in the gift and subsequent sale (at half the appraised value) of a highly visible property adjacent to the town where a high percentage of potential donors lived. The funds resulting from this sale allowed POST to save some additional lands. However, the organization progressed slowly for nearly a decade, with no real financially sustainable land protection strategy in place.
In 1986, driven by an opportunity to purchase a 1,200-acre coastal ranch, POST optioned the property, which required owner-financing, significant fundraising, and later statewide political action. Success led to the creation of a working capital fund that allowed POST to repeat a similar strategy several times, focusing on prominent and ambitious conservation projects. Gaining a reputation for delivering on its promises, POST transitioned to raising funds in a capital campaign for a much larger inventory of property. Having working capital freed POST to focus on what needed to be done, rather than what could be done.
Lincoln institute: What were the key accomplishments and shortfalls of POST’s strategy?
Audrey Rust: POST was able to build working capital and show donors a leveraged return. Success built on success, and today POST operates with a working capital account of more than $125 million. Protected land was never at any risk of being lost due to financial issues. The type of public funds used, coupled with private gifts, provide further assurances.
Each accomplishment has given POST the confidence to move to another level in direct protection, restoration, and collaboration. Sustainable forestry, affirmative easements on farmland, conservation grazing, and exotic species removal are all now a part of its conservation arsenal.
On the other hand, a broad vision of what the future could hold was never well articulated, as POST essentially worked in an incremental fashion. Stirring the imagination of leadership-level entrepreneurial donors, the primary wealth in the Valley, became more difficult as time went on. It was also difficult for the organization to embrace the restoration and management of land being held for later transfer.
As public funds have begun to dry up, public agencies are less likely to take on the obligation of additional land ownership. POST experiences both the expense of holding the property indefinitely and the inability to sell the land to return capital to its account.
Lincoln institute: What has been APR’s basic approach?
Audrey Rust: APR faces a different situation in Montana, where the privately held ranches are far larger than any parcel in the Santa Cruz Mountains, and their owners control additional vast tracks of federally owned leased land. APR intends to hold these private fee lands and leases in perpetuity. Privately raised endowment funds will be required to ensure the management of these lands.
APR wanted to show from the beginning that it could make real progress on its large conservation vision, despite the lack of funds. APR moved quickly to acquire land and the accompanying leases using owner financing. The leadership of the organization felt putting a stake in the ground was the only way to begin to attract the money it would need to acquire the property that would make up the Reserve. Without sufficient fundraising experience or a developed prospect list, the struggle was enormous. Until recently, only minimal funds were held in reserve, making it extremely stressful to meet financial obligations, especially for debt.
Lincoln institute: What are APR’s key accomplishments and ongoing challenges?
Audrey Rust: Persistence and good work are now paying off. Critical advances include the opportunity to acquire fees and associated leases on a 150,000-acre ranch and in 2012 a very important gift from one of the organization’s largest supporters. APR also began building a high-end “safari camp” to open in 2013 that will allow them to bring leadership-level donors to the prairie, build relationships, and deepen their connection to the land.
The organization has a track record, demonstrating its ability to get things done, and can begin management practices to foreshadow future activity. Reintroducing genetically pure bison is a charismatic example. Extraordinary opportunities for acquiring key pieces of land can now be pursued. Without significant working reserves, however, APR staff and leadership are under great stress to meet their financial obligations. This creates a climate of looking for quick delivery on donations rather than developing the kind of leadership gifts the organization needs most for the long haul. As yet, plans are incomplete for assuring the permanent private protection of the acquired lands. Land that carries owner financing or is especially well priced may be purchased, even though its priority for acquisition may not be high. Raising the necessary endowment funds for the ongoing stewardship of the land has been slow.
Lincoln institute: In conclusion, what are key commonalities between these two very different organizations?
Audrey Rust: POST and APR are at different stages in their organizational growth, and their futures are based on their most obvious differences and track records. However, it is possible to identify similar key elements leading to success:
Both organizations continue to face significant challenges in funding their goals. POST has successfully transitioned to new leadership and is pursuing ever larger and more complex conservation initiatives. Its success has dominated the organization for so long that it is difficult for new philanthropists to find something to “invent” and support. It is a very well-run organization, which leaves little room for the new Silicon Valley elite to provide their trademark “we can do it better” involvement. POST needs to do more to identify and attract those very few top-of-the-pyramid donors. This challenge is especially difficult because government participation has virtually ended, and POST’s three largest donors are no longer making grants, in the $20 million to $50 million range, to this type of conservation. Further, it is difficult to point to an endgame, and, without it, the organization will lose urgency and gift support.
APR is new and exciting. The organization has sought a creative partnership with National Geographic, which produced an hour-long video called The American Serengeti, elevating APR’s mission and bringing with it the national prominence APR needs to raise large gifts in the national arena. It is during this time that key leadership donors must become involved. In all nonprofit organizations, funding pyramids are becoming more and more vertical. Campaigns such as this one often depend upon one or two donors to make gifts equal to half or even two-thirds of the total goal. Without these donors, staff members are worn out by raising money, and the cost of fundraising rises rapidly.
I am convinced that the size, scope, and ability to measure the vision held by an organization are key determinants of success. Donors and the public in general are elevated by the idea that we can change our world. Clearly articulating and promoting that vision is instrumental. POST needs to work on its messaging to better articulate its current vision. APR needs to find more venues to effectively communicate its vision and develop a critical mass of supporters.
Conservation leader Audrey Rust, the 2012 Kingsbury Browne Fellow at the Lincoln Institute, will lecture on “The Peninsula and the Prairie: Regional and Large Landscape Conservation,” at Lincoln House on May 1, 2013, at noon (lunch is free).
Más que cualquier otra variable, el cambio en los valores del suelo a través del tiempo y del espacio brinda una perspectiva importante sobre la evolución de la estructura espacial de una ciudad. Mientras que la venta normal de una propiedad refleja el valor combinado del suelo y los edificios, el valor del suelo solo representa el valor real de una ubicación y sugiere expectativas sobre su futuro. Incluso si una parcela soporta la carga de un edificio anticuado, el precio del suelo refleja el valor actual descontado del flujo de retorno a la inversión que se podría obtener con un uso más intenso y óptimo de la parcela. El aumento rápido del precio del suelo en un área de la ciudad es una indicación clara de que la gente espera una alta demanda en el barrio durante un período de tiempo, lo cual es señal de oportunidades de inversión para los emprendedores inmobiliarios. Los cambios en el valor del suelo también pueden advertir a funcionarios municipales que es necesario efectuar cambios de zonificación e inversiones de infraestructura en una determinada área.
El valor del suelo es también un componente importante en el método de valuación de propiedades por costo, que es uno de los tres métodos utilizados comúnmente (junto con la comparación de ventas y el nivel de ingreso). El método de costo tiene tres componentes principales: (1) el costo de edificar la infraestructura existente como si fuera nueva en el momento de la tasación; (2) la depreciación del edificio a su condición actual; y (3) el precio de la parcela de suelo. Si se suma (1) a (3) y se resta (2), en general se obtiene una buena estimación del valor total de la propiedad. En las transacciones estándar de propiedades, sin embargo, no se pueden separar fácilmente el valor del suelo del valor de las estructuras. Las ventas de suelo vacante, que pueden indicar con mayor claridad el valor de un sitio, son relativamente raras en áreas urbanas grandes y edificadas, y por lo tanto hay pocos estudios existentes de ventas de suelo vacante (ver Ahlfeldt y Wendland 2011; Atack y Margo 1998; Colwell y Munneke 1997; Cunningham 2006). A veces se pueden usar las demoliciones para medir los valores del suelo, ya que cuando el edificio existente se demuele inmediatamente después de una venta, el suelo representa el valor total de la propiedad (McMillen 2006; Dye y McMillen 2007). No obstante, las demoliciones se tienden a concentrar en ciertos barrios de alto valor, y puede ser difícil obtener datos sobre demoliciones.
De todas las ciudades de los EE.UU., Chicago tiene la fortuna de contar con una fuente de datos, el Libro azul de valores del suelo de Chicago (Land Values Blue Book of Chicago) de Olcott, que reporta las estimaciones de los valores del suelo por cada manzana de la ciudad y por manzanas de muchos suburbios del condado de Cook durante la mayor parte del siglo XX. Olcott proporciona datos críticos para el procedimiento de tasación por costo. Después de determinar el costo y depreciación del edificio, el valor total de una propiedad se puede estimar multiplicando el tamaño de la parcela por el valor del suelo proporcionado en la serie del Libro azul. Este artículo se basa en un muestreo de datos de los volúmenes de Olcott (recuadro 1). Incluye una serie de mapas que proporcionan una imagen clara de la evolución espacial de Chicago durante el siglo XX, similar en espíritu al libro clásico Cien años de valores del suelo en Chicago (One Hundred Years of Land Values in Chicago) (Hoyt 1933).
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Recuadro 1: Fuentes de datos para los valores del suelo en Chicago
El Libro azul de valores del suelo de Chicago (Land Values Blue Book of Chicago) cubre la ciudad y gran parte del condado suburbano de Cook con una serie de 300 mapas, cada uno impreso en una página del libro. A la ciudad propiamente dicha se le dedican 160 mapas individuales con un impresionante nivel de detalle. La mayoría de lotes que dan a la calle tienen un valor que representa el precio por pie cuadrado para un lote estándar de 125 pies de profundidad. También se indica el uso dado al suelo. Los lotes grandes y la mayoría de los suelos industriales tienen precios cotizados por acre (0,4 hectárea), u ocasionalmente por pie cuadrado (0,98 m2, para una profundidad de lote sin especificar. Los datos representan los valores del suelo para cuadrículas de 1/8 x 1/8 de milla (alrededor de 200 x 200 metros), que siguen de cerca la disposición de las calles de Chicago y por lo tanto se asemejan a manzanas urbanas. El conjunto de datos de cada año incluye 43.324 observaciones para toda la ciudad.
El Lincoln Institute of Land Policy ha proporcionado financiamiento para digitalizar los datos contenidos en el Libro azul de Olcott para una serie de años que cubre gran parte del siglo XX: 1913, 1926, 1932, 1939, 1949, 1961, 1965, 1971, 1981 y 1990. Se presenta una descripción más minuciosa del procedimiento en Ahlfeldt et al. (2011). La digitalización de mapas consiste en incorporarlos a un entorno SIG. Se calculan los valores promedio del suelo para cuadrados de 1/8 x 1/8 de milla (alrededor de 200 x 200 metros) superpuestos sobre los mapas. El conjunto completo de datos tiene más de 600.000 puntos para cada uno de los 10 años.
El libro de Olcott se dejó de publicar a comienzos de la década de 1990, y el último año de datos digitalizados es 1990. Para suplementar los registros de Olcott en años recientes, los autores obtuvieron datos de todas las ventas de suelo vacante en la ciudad entre 1980 y 2011. Se geocodificaron exitosamente más de 16.000 ventas, las cuales demuestran el enorme aumento en los precios del suelo durante el período anterior al colapso del mercado inmobiliario al final de 2006. Estos conjuntos combinados de datos brindan una oportunidad única para analizar el cambio de estructura espacial de una ciudad completa durante un período de tiempo prolongado.
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Variación espacial en los valores del suelo
A pesar de su terreno plano, Chicago nunca fue una ciudad verdaderamente monocéntrica. El lago Michigan ha sido siempre una atracción, dado su valor panorámico, su efecto de moderación climática y la serie de parques que lo bordean. El río Chicago también ha tenido una influencia significativa sobre la ubicación de comercios y residencias. El desarrollo al norte del Distrito Comercial Central (Central Business District, o CBD) se demoró porque los puentes sobre el brazo principal del río se tenían que abrir con tanta frecuencia para dejar pasar el tráfico fluvial que el viaje a la zona comercial del Loop (bucle del tren elevado) era impredecible y largo. Los brazos norte y sur del río atrajeron tanto compañías industriales como desarrollos residenciales de bajo precio para los obreros, al tiempo que repelían las viviendas de alto precio diseñadas para los trabajadores del CBD. La ubicación de las calles principales, carreteras y líneas ferroviarias también tuvo un efecto significativo sobre los patrones de desarrollo. Por tanto, existen muchas razones para esperar una variación en la tasa de cambio en los valores del suelo a través de la ciudad.
Los mapas de la figura 1 (página 20) muestran esta variación espacial en los valores del suelo en Chicago a lo largo del tiempo. En 1913, los valores del suelo eran mayores en la gran zona que rodeaba el CBD y también eran bastante altos a lo largo del lago y algunas de las avenidas principales y bulevares que irradiaban de la zona céntrica. En 1939, este patrón era generalmente similar, junto con el crecimiento del lado norte en relación al lado sur de la ciudad. Los valores del suelo eran muy altos a lo largo de la ribera norte del lago, extendiéndose bien hacia adentro en la zona norte. El área del borde de la ciudad al oeste del CBD (el barrio de Austin) también tenía valores del suelo relativamente altos en 1939.
Para 1965, el patrón de valores del suelo había cambiado notablemente. Los valores del suelo muy altos estaban confinados a un área relativamente pequeña del CBD. El área de valor alto del barrio occidental de Austin era mucho más pequeña en 1965 que en 1939, y casi todas las áreas que anteriormente tenían un valor alto habían disminuido de tamaño.
Hacia 1990, sin embargo, la situación había cambiado drásticamente. El área con valores muy altos se extendía mucho más al norte y hacia adentro que antes. Las áreas del lado sur tenían valores del suelo relativamente altos en 1990, particularmente en la parte sur del Loop (cerca del CBD) y Hyde Park (a lo largo del lago Michigan, al sur del CBD).
Después de 1990, el patrón de revitalización continua de la ciudad se basa en un análisis de las ventas actuales de suelo vacante. La expansión del área de alto valor hacia el norte y el oeste del CBD es notable, y el lado sur cercano también gozó de un resurgimiento durante este tiempo.
La figura 2 (página 21) muestra cómo la reciente recesión afectó el crecimiento de los valores del suelo en Chicago cuando se lo expresa en función de la distancia del CBD. Las gráficas muestran el cambio en el valor promedio (logarítmico) del suelo a lo largo del tiempo para circunferencias con centroides a 2, 5, y 10 millas (3,2, 8 y 16 kilómetros) del CBD. En 1913, los valores promedio del suelo eran mucho menores a 10 millas (16 km) del CBD que en los anillos más cercanos al mismo. En la década de 1960, en contraste, había poca diferencia en los valores del suelo a estas distancias. Desde entonces, los valores promedio crecieron mucho más en el anillo a 2 millas (3,2 km) que en ubicaciones más distantes. Durante la Gran Recesión, los valores del suelo disminuyeron rápidamente en el anillo de 2 (3,2 km) millas, menos rápidamente en el anillo de 5 millas (8 km), y no disminuyeron en absoluto en el anillo de 10 millas (16 km). Por lo tanto, las áreas que tuvieron las mayores tasas de apreciación durante el período de crecimiento extendido también tuvieron las mayores tasas de depreciación durante la recesión.
La figura 3 ofrece una perspectiva distinta de la variación espacial de los valores del suelo a lo largo del tiempo. Los tres paneles muestran superficies promediadas de valores del suelo en 1913, 1990 y 2005. Las superficies de 1913 y 1990 se estimaron con los datos de Olcott, mientras que las estimaciones de 2005 se basan en ventas de suelo vacante. En cada uno de los tres años, los valores del suelo son mucho más altos en el CBD que en cualquier otro lado. En 1913, hay una gran cantidad de picos locales de valores del suelo en las intersecciones de las calles principales. Estas zonas eran distritos comerciales relativamente pequeños que atendían a los residentes locales antes de que el uso del automóvil se hiciera habitual. En 1990, el pico de valor del suelo en el CBD está acompañado por una meseta mucho más baja justo al norte, a lo largo de la ribera del lago. En 2005, esta meseta se había ampliado a un área grande que se extiende muy hacia el norte y hacia adentro de la ribera del lago. La región de altos valores del suelo también se ha extendido al sur a lo largo del lago, con un aumento local mucho más al sur en Hyde Park.
Persistencia de patrones espaciales
Los valores históricos del suelo son interesantes no sólo porque revelan cómo un área urbana ha cambiado con el tiempo, sino también porque el pasado sigue ejerciendo una influencia sustancial sobre el presente. Las ciudades no se reconstruyen a partir de cero en cada período. Los edificios están en pie mucho tiempo antes de ser demolidos, y los sitios que eran atractivos en el pasado tienden a ser deseables por mucho tiempo. Una de las características únicas del conjunto de datos de Olcott es que nos permite comparar valores del suelo de 100 años atrás con valores y usos del suelo en la actualidad.
La figura 4 (página 24) muestra la fecha promedio de construcción de los cuadrados de 1/8 x 1/8 de milla (alrededor de 200 x 200 metros). Se puede observar la reciente recentralización de Chicago en la forma de “rosquillas” de las edades de los edificios en torno al CBD. Los edificios más nuevos están cerca del CBD, mientras que los más viejos están en el siguiente anillo externo. Los edificios en la región más distante son los que tienen mayor probabilidad de haber sido construidos entre 1940 y 1970.
La figura 5 (página 24) resume esta relación comparando la media de la fecha de construcción con la distancia al CBD. Los edificios más viejos están en un anillo a solo 5 millas (8 km) del CBD.
Una buena medida de la densidad estructural es la relación entre el área edificada y el tamaño del lote. La teoría económica predice que las densidades estructurales serán altas en lugares donde los valores del suelo son altos. Las estructuras duran un tiempo largo. ¿Qué tan bien pueden los valores pasados predecir la densidad estructural actual? La figura 6 (página 24) compara la densidad estructural de los edificios en los padrones de tasación del condado de Cook en 2003 con los valores del suelo en 1913 y 1990. Este conjunto de datos incluye el área construida de cada estructura residencial pequeña (seis unidades o menos) en Chicago.
La altura de las barras indica las densidades estructurales: Las barras altas tienen relaciones relativamente altas de área construida por tamaño del lote. El color de las barras indica los valores del suelo: Las barras rojas tienen valores relativamente altos del suelo. Por lo tanto, deberíamos esperar una gran cantidad de barras rojas altas y barras verdes bajas. En general, los dos paneles indican una correlación positiva entre densidad estructural y valores del suelo. La correlación es particularmente evidente en el lado norte y en la ribera del lago. La correlación con 1990 es menos clara en los lados sur y oeste. Hay varias elevaciones en la superficie de densidad que no tienen una contraparte de valores altos del suelo. Una explicación de estos resultados, que coinciden con la reorientación de áreas de precios altos hacia el lado norte, es que las densidades relativamente altas en estas áreas son manifestaciones de un pasado en el que estas manzanas eran relativamente más valiosas y había un mayor incentivo para usar el suelo de manera más intensiva. El panel de 1913 de la figura 6 sugiere que los valores del suelo tienen en realidad mayor correlación con las densidades de edificios en 2003 que los valores de 1990. La causa de esta aparente anomalía se debe a que la densidad de edificios es un reflejo de las condiciones económicas en el momento de su construcción, y la mayoría de los edificios en esa parte de la ciudad fueron construidos hace mucho tiempo. El pasado sigue ejerciendo una influencia importante sobre el presente.
Conclusión
Los datos de Olcott proporcionan una imagen clara de los cambios en la estructura espacial de Chicago durante la mayor parte del siglo XX. Chicago, que nunca fue una ciudad monocéntrica, comenzó el siglo con valores del suelo muy altos en el CBD, a lo largo del lago y junto a las avenidas y bulevares principales que irradiaban del centro. Los valores también fueron altos en áreas de comercios minoristas ubicadas en las intersecciones de las calles principales. Para 1939, el lado norte de Chicago ya había comenzado a mostrar su hegemonía económica. Después, en la década de 1960, la ciudad sufrió un largo período de decadencia en el cual el CBD era la única concentración importante de valores altos del suelo. Desde entonces, la ciudad ha experimentado un resurgimiento notable. Los valores altos del suelo ya se extienden a casi todo el lado norte, y han repuntado en partes del lado sur. Nuestro análisis también muestra el importante papel del pasado en la estructura espacial actual de la ciudad. Una consecuencia de esta persistencia es que los valores del suelo de hace un siglo predicen mejor la densidad del inventario de viviendas actual que los valores presentes.
Agradecimientos
Los autores agradecen al Instituto Lincoln de Políticas de Suelos su generoso financiamiento y su apoyo. Asimismo agradecen al Centro de Estudios Metropolitanos de TU-Berlin por alojar al equipo de investigadores durante el proyecto. Quieren dar las gracias a Kristoffer Moeller and Sevrin Weights por su importante contribución en el diseño y coordinación de la recopilación del conjunto de datos. Philip Boos, Aline Delatte, Nuria-Maria Hoyer Sepulvedra, Devika Kakkar, Rene Kreichauf, Maike Rackwitz, Lea Siebert, Stefan Tornack y Tzvetelina Tzvetkova brindaron una ayuda inestimable en investigación.
Sobre los autores
Gabriel M. Ahlveldt es profesor asociado de la Escuela de Economía y Ciencias Políticas de Londres (LSE) en el Departamento de Geografía y Medio Ambiente, y del Centro de Investigaciones Económicas Espaciales (SERC).
Daniel P. McMillen es profesor del Departamento de Economía de la Universidad de Illinois en Urbana-Champaign.
Recursos
Ahlfeldt, Gabriel M., Kristoffer Moeller, Sevrin Waights y Nicolai Wendland. 2011. “One Hundred Years of Land Value: Data Documentation.” Centre for Metropolitan Studies, TU Berlin.
Ahlfeldt, Gabriel M. y Nicolai Wendland. 2011. “Fifty Years of Urban Accessibility: The Impact of the Urban Railway Network on the Land Gradient in Berlin 1890–1936.” Regional Science and Urban Economics 41: 77–88.
Atack, J.y R. A. Margo. 1998. “Location, Location, Location! The Price Gradient for Vacant Urban Land: New York, 1835 to 1900.” Journal of Real Estate Finance & Economics 16(2) 151–172.
Colwell, Peter F. y Henry J. Munneke. 1997. “The Structure of Urban Land Prices.” Journal of Urban Economics 41: 321–336.
Cunningham, Christopher R. 2006. “House Price Uncertainty, Timing of Development, and Vacant Land Prices: Evidence for Real Options in Seattle.” Journal of Urban Economics 59: 1–31.
Dye, Richard F.y Daniel P. McMillen. 2007. “Teardowns and Land Values in the Chicago Metropolitan Area.” Journal of Urban Economics 61: 45–64.
Hoyt, Homer. 1933. One Hundred Years of Land Values in Chicago. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
McMillen, Daniel P. 2006. “Teardowns: Costs, Benefits, and Public Policy.” Land Lines, Lincoln Institute of Land Policy 18(3): 2–7.
As interest in urban living grows, the cost of residential real estate in many hot markets is skyrocketing. According to the Joint Center for Housing Studies (JCHS 2015), in 2014 rental vacancy rates hit their lowest point in two decades; rents rose in 91 out of 93 metropolitan areas studied; and the consumer price index for contract rents climbed at double the rate of inflation—and 10 percent or more at the top end, in Denver, San Jose, Honolulu, and San Francisco. Despite some interruption from the mortgage crisis, asking prices for homes for sale have continued to rise as well, often beyond the reach of potential home buyers (Olick 2014); in Washington, DC, the median home value nearly tripled from 2000 to 2013 (Oh et al. 2015). As housing activists look for effective tools to prevent displacement of lower-income families from gentrifying neighborhoods and create inclusive communities, many are turning to community land trusts (box 1) as a way to help build the nation’s stock of permanently affordable housing.
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Box 1: The CLT Model
Under the CLT model, a community-controlled organization retains ownership of a plot of land and sells or rents the housing on that land to lower-income households. In exchange for below-market prices, purchasers agree to resale restrictions that keep the homes affordable to subsequent buyers while also allowing owners to build some equity. The CLT also prepares home buyers to purchase property, supports them through financial challenges, and manages resales and rental units.
CLTs thus bring sustainable home ownership within the reach of more families, supporting residents who want to commit to their neighborhoods for the long term. In gentrifying areas, they provide an effective way for lower-income families to retain a stake in the neighborhood because they take a single initial subsidy (which could come from a variety of sources, often public programs such as the HOME Investment Partnerships Program or Community Development Block Grants) and attach it to the building, keeping the units affordable over time without new influxes of public money. In weak housing markets, they are beneficial as well (Shelterforce 2012), providing the financial stewardship that ensures fewer foreclosures, better upkeep, and stable occupancy. In 2009, at the height of the foreclosure crisis, Mortgage Bankers Association (MBA) loans were 8.2 times more likely to be in the foreclosure process than CLT loans, despite the fact that CLT loans were uniformly made to low-income households (Thaden, Rosenberg 2010), and MBA loans included all income brackets. Of the very few CLT homes that did complete foreclosure, none were lost from the CLT’s portfolio.
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Much like community development corporations (CDCs), many CLTs grew from grassroots neighborhood organizations. Traditional community organizing (distinct from broader “resident outreach”) creates a base of residents who are empowered to determine for themselves what they need and mobilize to get it; as a united front, these individuals are better able to counter-balance corporate or governmental opponents and other forms of institutional power. Strategic collaboration and strength in numbers are essential to the successful formation of a CLT. But the skills required to organize politically around local concerns are very different from the skills required to manage real estate. While both sets of skills are required to implement and sustain a CLT, growing these core competencies under the same roof might hamper the neighborhood-based organization’s ability to pursue or achieve its core founding mission.
How have community organizations that created CLTs navigated the challenge of building two seemingly incompatible skill sets? We examined the experience of five established CLTs in locations across the country to see how they addressed this challenge and how their focus evolved as a result. From Boston to Los Angeles, community organizers faced a range of conditions, from high-vacancy neighborhoods with almost no housing market to booming areas where displacement was the top concern. Yet all five organizations had remarkably similar reasons for starting a community land trust: each CLT director spoke of wanting community control of land to prevent residents from either losing a home or being unable to afford one. Even those CLTs that began in weak housing markets were located near downtowns, university districts, or other popular areas, and recognized the potential for displacement as conditions in the neighborhoods improved. All agreed that a clear community vision is essential to the success of a CLT, but some groups take direct responsibility for creating and implementing that vision, while others are devoted to housing work on behalf of a parent organization charged with shepherding the larger vision. Approaches to organizing and housing development varied as well, but all agreed that these two activities can be a difficult mix.
Dudley Neighbors Inc., Boston, MA
The oldest organization in our study, Dudley Street Neighborhood Initiative (DSNI), formed in a cold market in the 1980s to fight illegal dumping on broad swaths of vacant land left behind by a wave of arson. The city was proposing a master plan for the area without seeking input from residents, and community members responded by organizing DSNI to assert the community’s right to direct decisions about land use within its boundaries. They won that right and through DSNI decided that a CLT was the best tool to help the organization implement the community’s vision. “A lot of times, groups want to jump into creating a CLT thinking it will magically solve a neighborhood’s problems,” says Harry Smith, director of DSNI’s CLT, Dudley Neighbors Inc. (DNI). “But first we say: ‘Have you written down a vision of development in your community, and can you say how a CLT fits into that?’”
Founded in 1984, DNI is an independent organization, but it maintains close ties to its parent organization. The two groups share staff, and DSNI appoints a majority of the CLT’s board. The CLT is responsible only for providing affordable housing and community control of land, freeing DSNI to make organizing and community planning its main priority. Neither DSNI nor DNI carry out development directly, but instead partner with local affordable housing developers.
Because of its long history and established relationships, DSNI engages in less confrontational organizing than it did in its earliest days. But it doesn’t shy away from it if necessary. In fact, Smith reports that maintaining a CLT can be a unique political strength. When DSNI organizes around the fate of a particular parcel of land, “Having a land trust gives us an extra level of impact,” he says.
Sawmill Community Land Trust, Albuquerque, NM
Located in Albuquerque, New Mexico, Sawmill CLT was born in 1996 when, after a decade of community organizing, low-income residents banded together to fight a nearby factory that polluted their air and threatened their health. They wanted to assert control over future use of the space. After leaders attended a conference to learn more about CLTs, they held a series of community meetings on the topic. Though some residents aired concerns about the lack of land ownership in the CLT model, a community elder reminded them that they didn’t truly have ownership of their property in any case, either because they were renting or were ill-equipped to control what happened on their land. Former executive director Wade Patterson says, “The fact that the work was specifically geared toward controlling housing costs assuaged concerns about gentrification and displacement. The fact that we got a house instead of another factory was something we couldn’t argue with.”
Sawmill CLT was created as a standalone organization dedicated to housing development, stewardship, and property management. It’s one of the largest CLTs in the country, with 34 acres, which includes rental, ownership, and senior housing. Recently, it won an RFP issued by the city of Albuquerque to revitalize an old motel in a new neighborhood in the city, and the CLT is figuring out how to enter the community respectfully from outside.
Albuquerque’s Sawmill-area neighborhood associations, including the Sawmill Advisory Council, which launched the CLT, focus on “community building” through cultural events, says Patterson. The CLT supports neighborhood organizing by offering meeting space in one of its buildings and other support. Patterson says, “Our goal isn’t to lead but to be behind them.”
San Francisco Community Land Trust, San Francisco, CA
SFCLT was launched in 2003, at a time when the city was already one of the hottest real estate markets in the country, and low-income residents were concerned about soaring rents and illegal evictions for condo conversions. Housing organizers were seeking a model that could prevent evictions and give lower-income residents more control over their living situations.
The CLT is a standalone entity, but it maintains a close relationship with the housing organizers who founded it. When its partner groups organize to prevent evictions or condo conversions in an at-risk building (generally small apartment buildings), SFCLT steps in as a preservation purchaser and converts them to co-ops on CLT-owned land. SFCLT has in-house real estate expertise, but does not develop new buildings, and it contracts out any needed rehabilitation. It handles the financial aspects of the acquisition and the conversion, the stewardship of the land, and the training and support that helped residents form a co-op board and carry out co-op governance. “Housing groups refer everyone to us; we’re the only housing organization that can help stabilize a multi-unit apartment building by buying it,” says director Tracy Parent. SFCLT organizes its member base to support the broader issues that its coalition partners push for, but it doesn’t “initiate organizing” on issues, according to Parent.
T.R.U.S.T. South LA, Los Angeles, CA
When T.R.U.S.T. South LA was formed in 2005, its target neighborhoods were filled with vacant lots and deteriorated housing, while surrounding areas were under increasing development pressures. While the founders—Esperanza Community Housing Corporation, Strategic Actions of a Just Economy, and Abode Communities—originally envisioned the CLT as primarily a housing tool, it has taken on a broader role in implementing a community vision. “Originally, we formed as a land acquisition group. Then our members wanted to organize,” says executive director Sandra McNeill. The CLT has, for example, organized against a slumlord who was trying to evict residents from a building he had strategically let deteriorate in order to cash in on expiring section 8 affordability restrictions. It has also organized to raise funding for transportation and green space improvements in its neighborhood and participated in coalitions to support broader citywide policies such as increased funding for affordable housing.
The group now describes itself as “a community-based initiative to stabilize the neighborhoods south of downtown Los Angeles.” T.R.U.S.T. South LA is a standalone organization that considers itself part of the development team on housing projects, partnering with others to purchase, finance, and construct or rehabilitate housing.
Although T.R.U.S.T. South LA does a lot of organizing, nearly all of its policy work is conducted in collaboration with other groups, including its founding partners. “Affordable housing developers generally aren’t risk takers,” says McNeill. “They may be involved in political work to ensure that funding streams are in place for affordable housing, but that’s as far as most of them go.”
Community Justice Land Trust, Philadelphia, PA
Community Justice Land Trust in Philadelphia formed in Northeast Philadelphia in 2010 amid combined cold and hot market challenges. Although the neighborhood suffered from a large number of vacant and abandoned properties, it was surrounded on all sides by booming markets, and those rising prices and development pressures seemed likely to spread. The Women’s Community Revitalization Project (WCRP), along with a coalition of local civic organizations, held dozens of public meetings to help the community members understand what forming a CLT would mean and to explore their concerns about resale restrictions. Attendees voted in favor.
Community Justice CLT is set up as a program of WCRP, which has its own in-house development and organizing expertise, including an entire department devoted to organizing.
But as WCRP’s executive director Nora Lichtash warns, “Sometimes you lose relationships when you’re organizing. . . . Sometimes people don’t like to be pushed to do the right thing.” Indeed, WCRP apparently pressured its local council person enough on certain issues that she declined to give the CLT vacant land it had hoped to secure for its first development. In the end, however, the council person helped the group establish a citywide land bank (Feldstein 2013–14), which furthers some of the same goals as the land trust.
Despite potential tensions like these, Lichtash believes that organizing and CLT functions should stay closely related. “It’s important to remember that organizing and building affordable housing fit together,” she says. “Your funders think you should be doing one or the other, but it’s not good for CLTs to be separated from organizing. You’re building your capacity for present and future work. When you organize, you’re respected because you have people power.”
To Develop or Not to Develop: A Big Decision
Affordable housing development is a complicated and expensive business that no community organization should take lightly if it is thinking about starting a CLT. As DNI’s Smith says, “If you do development work, it will take time away from organizing, which is cumulative. It takes time and a lot of sacrifice to form a truly representative, neighborhood-based organization. If you cut corners, you risk jeopardizing a lot of the power you’ve built up over the years.”
The Boston experience, for example, begins with a cautionary tale. DSNI stepped in when the original developer for the CLT’s first project backed out of the deal. It was “traumatic” for staff and board, says Smith. “It took so much time. It distracted DSNI from its core functions.”
The idea of controlling development resources and accessing developer fees can be seductive to grassroots groups, says WCRP’s Lichtash. But they should proceed with extreme care. “Becoming a developer can muddy the waters,” she says. “You have to focus on every detail in million-dollar deals. It takes you away from educational work.”
“Real estate work is very hard, speculative,” Lichtash continues. “You think you’re getting one thing and instead you get another. I tell people to partner for a long time first. It’s hard to keep both tenants and funding sources happy.”
Patterson of Sawmill agrees and adds that it’s particularly difficult “to meet all the deadlines and reporting requirements on funding [for development]. I’m always shocked by the amount of administrative overhead that’s required.” He also advises that if you can’t make the numbers work, “it’s important to know you can pull out of a project if needed.”
T.R.U.S.T. South LA’s McNeill says, “Development definitely has its own language. It’s complex stuff. Nonprofits that do it have large budgets and tend to have sizable staffs. I respect the skill it takes to pull off these deals. It’s a very different skillset from what we do.”
Another consideration is that affordable housing development is not an easy industry to break into these days. In the current funding environment, many of the subsidies that CLTs have traditionally used to develop and steward their units are being slashed, and mortgages for potential CLT home buyers are harder to find. McNeill says, “We’ve gone through enormous shifts in the housing industry. The reality is that there isn’t an opening now for new organizations to get into the development business. It’s definitely not the time.”
Even the ongoing stewardship of a CLT requires a different kind of relationship with residents than an organizer would have. “Developer fees and rent collection could impact the relationship with residents and the power dynamic,” says Smith of DNI. “You’re responsible to leaseholders and non-leaseholders in your community, so there are tensions,” according to Lichtash of WCRP. And as SFCLT’s Parent comments, “Organizers often paint issues as clear moral choices,” but when you are involved as a property manager, “there are nuances.”
Eyes on the Prize
Once a community group has determined that a CLT is an appropriate tool for keeping housing affordable to local residents, the next questions should be: How will the roles be divided up? Who is taking the lead on implementing the broader vision? Is there an organization already in place that’s committed and able to take that on, or does one need to be created? Are there groups serving the community that already have development expertise and access to funding that could partner with a CLT or even fold one into their work? How can the new CLT partner with and support the community’s organizing work rather than distract from it?
Many newer CLTs are following the lead of groups like DSNI and T.R.U.S.T. South LA by setting up a separate organization to manage the stewardship and land ownership functions, and then drawing on the capacity of existing affordable housing developers through partnerships. While every locality is different, this approach seems like a wise place for groups to start, especially if they want to preserve their energy for the important work they started with: fighting for vibrant, equitable communities.
Miriam Axel-Lute is the editor of Shelterforce, a magazine devoted to the field of community development. She has written extensively on both organizing and community land trusts.
Dana Hawkins-Simons is an award-winning journalist who has published groundbreaking investigations in U.S. News & World Report. She is also the former director of the Opportunity Housing Initiative at the National Housing Institute.
References
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Feldstein, Jill. 2013/14. “Winning a Land Bank We Can Trust.” Shelterforce. Fall/Winter 2013/14. www.shelterforce.org/article/3910/winning_a_land_bank_we_can_trust2/
Horwitz, Staci. 2011. “It’s All About Choice.” Shelterforce. www.shelterforce.org/article/2313/its_all_about_choice/
Joint Center for Housing Studies. 2015. State of the Nation’s Housing 2015. Harvard University. www.jchs.harvard.edu/research/state_nations_housing
Oh, Seunghoon, Josh Silver, Annelise Osterberg, and Jaclyn Tules. 2015. Does Nonprofit Housing Development Preserve Neighborhood Diversity? An Investigation into the Interaction Between Affordable Housing Development and Neighborhood Change. Manna, Inc. www.mannadc.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/Final_Neighborhood_Impact_Analysis_7_1.pdf
Olick, Diana. 2014. “Housing Still Too Expensive Despite Positive Signs.” CNBC.com, July 10. www.cnbc.com/2014/07/10/housing-still-too-expensive-despite-positive-signs.html
Shelterforce. 2012. “What’s the Point of Shared-Equity Homeownership in Weak Market Areas?” Shelterforce. www.shelterforce.org/images/uploads/theanswer171-2.pdf
Schutz, Aaron and Marie G. Sandy. 2011. “What Isn’t Community Organizing.” In Collective Action for Social Change: An Introduction to Community Organizing, London: Palgrave McMillan. pp. 31–44.
Thaden, Emily and Greg Rosenberg. 2010. “Outperforming the Market: Delinquency and Foreclosure Rates in Community Land Trusts.” Lincoln Institute of Land Policy. www.lincolninst.edu/pubs/dl/1846_1154_LLA10102%20Foreclosure%20Rates.pdf