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In June 2002, about 300 urban design practitioners, writers, ecologists, grassroots activists and students gathered in New York City for “The Humane Metropolis: People and Nature in the 21st Century—A Symposium to Celebrate and Continue the Work of William H. Whyte.” The Ecological Cities Project at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, organized the event with a grant from the Lincoln Institute and additional support from the Wyomissing Foundation, the National Park Service, the U.S. Forest Service, and Laurance S. Rockefeller, a longtime friend and supporter of Whyte’s work.
The symposium was held at the New York University Law School in consultation with NYU faculty, representatives of organizations and programs that continue Whyte’s work, including the Regional Plan Association, Project for Public Spaces, the Municipal Art Society, Trust for Public Land, and the Chicago Openlands Project, and with his widow, Jenny Bell Whyte, and their daughter, Alexandra Whyte. The University of Pennsylvania Press released a new edition of Whyte’s 1956 classic study of postwar suburbia, The Organization Man, at the symposium reception.
William H. “Holly” Whyte (1917-1999) was one of America’s most influential and respected commentators on cities, people and open spaces. Through his writings, particularly The Organization Man (1956), The Last Landscape (1968), and City: Rediscovering the Center (1988), he taught a generation of urban designers to view cities as habitats for people, rather than simply as economic machines, transportation nodes, or grandiose architectural stage-sets. As the United States approaches 300 million residents, of whom four-fifths live in cities or suburbs, Whyte’s vision of people-centered urban communities has never been needed more. And it seems safe to assume that this vision would today also incorporate recent insights on urban ecology and sustainability, in short a symbiosis of people and nature.
“The Man Who Loved Cities”
Norman Glazer (1999) described Holly Whyte as “The man who loved cities . . . one of America’s most influential observers of the city and the space around it . . .” Whyte gloried in parks, plazas, sidewalks and other pedestrian spaces that invite schmoozing (a Yiddish term he popularized) or simply encountering other people. Conversely, he deplored urban sprawl (apparently his term), particularly the waste of land, ugliness and isolation of tract development on the urban fringe. I stated in opening remarks the overriding premise of both the symposium and the book to follow:
Contrary to the trend toward privatization, security and “gatedness” so well documented by Dean Blakely [Blakely and Snyder 1997], twenty-first-century America needs a strong dose of Holly Whyte; namely, we need to rediscover the humanizing influence of urban shared spaces. “The Humane Metropolis” for present purposes means urban places that are “more green, more people-friendly, and more socially equitable.”
A native of the Brandywine Valley in eastern Pennsylvania, William H. Whyte, Jr., graduated from Princeton in 1939 and fought at Guadalcanal as an officer in the U.S. Marine Corps. Shortly after the war, he joined the editorial staff of Fortune magazine in New York, where he began to examine the culture, life style and residential milieu of postwar suburbia, leading to his 1956 classic The Organization Man. Among other findings, this book argued that the spatial layout of homes, parking, yards and common spaces is a key factor in promoting or inhibiting social contacts, helping to account for patterns of friendships versus isolation. Thus began a lifetime career devoted to better understanding how people interact in shared or common spaces.
Appalled by rapid development of his beloved Brandywine Valley, Whyte in 1958 co-organized an urban land use roundtable, jointly hosted by Fortune and Architectural Review, which attracted a who’s who of urban planners, economists and lawyers. His subsequent essay on “Urban Sprawl” added both a new term and a sense of urgency to the conversion of rural land for suburban development (Whyte 1957a).
But open space per se is not a panacea. In The Exploding Metropolis (Editors of Fortune 1957), Whyte and Jane Jacobs excoriated urban renewal programs that placed high-rise structures in the midst of amorphous open spaces modeled on Le Corbusier’s Ville Radieuse. In Whyte’s words: “The scale of the projects is uncongenial to the human being. The use of the open space is revealing; usually it consists of manicured green areas carefully chained off lest they be profaned, and sometimes, in addition, a big central mall so vast and abstract as to be vaguely oppressive. There is nothing close for the eye to light on, no sense of intimacy or of things being on a human scale” (Whyte 1957b, 21). And as Jane Jacobs observed in her 1961 classic The Death and Life of Great American Cities, without streets and street life, projects are dangerous as well as boring (and all that green grass was soon covered with old cars).
Whyte left Fortune in 1959 to pursue a broader array of urban projects. His first technical publication on Conservation Easements (1959) became the model for open space statutes in California, New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts and Maryland. In the early 1960s, he served as a consultant to the Outdoor Recreation Resources Review Commission, for which he prepared a 60-page report on Open Space Action (1962). His association with the Commission’s chair, Laurance S. Rockefeller, led to his role as a one-man think tank on urban land problems with the Rockefeller Brothers Fund, which provided him with an office in Rockefeller Center. Whyte also was a member of President Lyndon B. Johnson’s Task Force on Natural Beauty and chaired Governor Nelson Rockefeller’s Conference on Natural Beauty in New York. At the invitation of Donald Elliott, then chair of the New York City Plan Commission, Whyte wrote much of the 1969 Plan for New York City, which was acclaimed by The New York Times and the American Society of Planning Officials (Birch 1986). He also advised the city on revisions to its zoning ordinance, leading to improvement of public spaces established by private developers in exchange for density bonuses (Kayden 2000).
The turbulent year of 1968 yielded three environmental literary milestones: Ian McHarg’s Design with Nature, Garret Hardin’s “The Tragedy of the Commons,” and Holly Whyte’s The Last Landscape. The latter was Whyte’s “bible” for the fast-spreading movement to save open space in metropolitan America. Open space was to the conservationists of the 1960s what anti-congestion was to early twentieth-century progressives, and sustainability and smart growth are to environmentalists today. Whyte’s book embraced a variety of negative effects of poorly planned development, such as loss of prime farmland, inadequate recreation space, urban flooding, pollution of surface and groundwater, aesthetic blight, diminished sense of place, and isolation from nature. The Last Landscape confronted each of these and offered a legal toolbox to combat them, including cluster zoning, conservation easements, greenbelts, scenic roads, tax abatements and so on.
Whyte’s fascination with the social functions of urban space was the focus of his Street Life Project, a long-term study sponsored by the Rockefeller Brothers Fund. Based at Hunter College in Manhattan, where he served as distinguished professor of urban sociology, the project documented social activity in public spaces through interviews, mapping, diagrams and film. That research underlay Whyte’s 1980 book and film titled The Social Life of Small Urban Spaces and his 1988 capstone book, City: Rediscovering the Center.
From Park Forest in the 1950s to New York City in the 1980s, Whyte was a diehard urban environmental determinist. He believed that the design of shared spaces greatly affects the interaction of people who encounter each other in those spaces, and their resulting sense of well-being or discomfort in urban surroundings. This in turn helps to shape the success of cities and suburbs as congenial or alien environments for the millions who inhabit them. Paul Goldberger, architectural critic for The New Yorker, writes in his Foreword to The Essential William H. Whyte (LaFarge 2000):
His objective research on the city, on open space, on the way people use it, was set within what I think I must call a moral context. Holly believed with deep passion that there was such a thing as quality of life, and the way we build cities, the way we make places, can have a profound effect on what lives are lived within those places.
Celebrating and Continuing Holly Whyte’s Work
A major goal of the symposium was to revisit Holly Whyte’s work, which anticipated many of the ideas behind smart growth and new urbanism, and reintroduce him to a younger generation of planners and urbanists. This goal was accomplished during the opening sessions through personal tributes by friends and family (Donald Elliott, Amanda Burden, Fred Kent, Eugenie Birch, Lynden B. Miller and Alexandra Whyte) and fellow urban writers (Charles E. Little, Paul Goldberger and Tony Hiss). Planners Frank and Deborah Popper and environmental historian Adam Rome offered perspectives on Holly as viewed from the twenty-first century. A second goal was to trace the influence of his work in contemporary efforts to make cities and suburbs more livable and more humane, which was accomplished through an address by Carl Anthony of The Ford Foundation, and his introduction by Robert Yaro of the Regional Plan Association. Subsequent sessions, both plenary and concurrent, reviewed a variety of initiatives in New York City and around the nation that carry on the spirit of Holly Whyte. Session topics included:
Some of these topics departed somewhat from Whyte’s own areas of focus, but the organizers felt that he would have applauded the inclusiveness of our agenda. He no doubt would have added many topics, such as urban gardens, green roofs, brownfield reuse and ecological restoration, if he were here to write a sequel to The Last Landscape today. In particular, no appraisal of current approaches to making cities more humane would be adequate if it failed to consider issues of social justice in relation to urban sprawl and inner-city land use or abuse.
Next Steps
The symposium deliberately closed without the usual “Where do we go from here?” session, but the next major task is to produce an edited volume of selected papers presented at the symposium, and possibly a film. We hope “The Humane Metropolis” (symposium and book) will provide a template for regional symposia in other cities and metropolitan regions of the U.S. These could be locally funded and planned with guidance as requested from the Ecological Cities Project and its allies across the country.
An elusive but critical function of events like “The Humane Metropolis” is the energizing of participants through sharing of experience and specialized knowledge. Feedback from speakers and attendees indicates the symposium stimulated new contacts among participants from different disciplines and geographic regions. In particular, it seems to have well served a key goal of the Ecological Cities Project, to promote dialogue between urbanists and natural scientists. According to Peter Harnik, director of Trust for Public Land’s Green Cities Program, “You are on the cutting edge of an up-and-coming topic that is given almost no attention by anyone else—since urban experts rarely talk about nature, and conservationists virtually never talk about cities.” As the consummate synthesizer of things urban, Holly Whyte should be beaming with approval.
Rutherford H. Platt is director of the Ecological Cities Project at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, and organizer of the symposium and related activities. The full list of speakers and other information about the symposium may be found at http://www.ecologicalcities.org.
References
Birch, E. L. 1986. The Observation Man. Planning (March): 4-8.
Blakely, E. J. and M. G. Snyder. 1997. Fortress America: Gated Communities in the United States. Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press and Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.
Daily, G C., ed. 1997. Nature’s Services: Societal Dependence on Natural Systems. Washington, DC: Island Press.
Editors of Fortune, 1957. The Exploding Metropolis. Garden City, NY: Doubleday Anchor.
Glazer, N. 1999. The Man Who Loved Cities. The Wilson Quarterly (Spring) 23(2): 27-34.
Hardin, G. 1968. The Tragedy of the Commons. Science 162: 1243-1248.
Jacobs, J. 1961. The Death and Life of Great American Cities. New York: Random House Vintage.
Kayden, J. 2000. Privately Owned Public Space: The New York City Experience. New York: Wiley.
LaFarge, A., Ed. 2000. The Essential William H. Whyte. New York: Fordham University Press.
McHarg, I. 1968. Design with Nature. New York: Garden City Press.
Whyte, W. H. 1956. The Organization Man. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. Republished in 2002 by the University of Pennsylvania Press.
_____. 1957a. Urban Sprawl in Editors of Fortune, The Exploding Metropolis. Garden City, NY: Doubleday Anchor.
_____. 1957b. Are Cities Un-American? in Editors of Fortune, The Exploding Metropolis. Garden City, NY: Doubleday Anchor.
_____. 1959. Conservation Easements. Washington, DC: Urban Land Institute.
_____. 1962. Open Space Action. Study Report 15 prepared for the Outdoor Recreation Resources Review Commission, Washington, DC.
_____. 1968. The Last Landscape. Garden City: Doubleday. Republished in 2001 by the University of Pennsylvania Press.
_____. 1980. The Social Life of Small Urban Spaces. Washington, DC: The Conservation Foundation. Reprinted by Project for Public Spaces, Inc.
_____. 1988. City: Rediscovering the Center. Garden City, NY: Doubleday.
(Picture of Holly White taken by Kelly Campbell)
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In its short history, European spatial planning has been through several iterations, and the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy has supported many related activities that document that process, as well as the participating individuals and entities. Following a course held in Cambridge in 2001, the Institute published the book European Spatial Planning (Faludi 2002) on the movement’s early years when the European Union (EU) had no particular planning mandate. Rather, the European Spatial Development Perspective (ESDP) was an initiative of the member states, supported by the European Commission.
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An architect who specializes in urban and regional planning, Eduardo Reese is the deputy administrator of the Institute for Housing of the Province of Buenos Aires, Argentina. In previous professional positions he provided technical advice for the master plans of more than 20 cities in Argentina; was secretary of socioeconomic policies at the Ministry of Human Development and Labor of the Province of Buenos Aires; adviser for the Urban Planning Counsel of the City of Buenos Aires; and planning secretary in the City of Avellaneda.
Reese also teaches at the Conurbano Institute at the National University General Sarmiento in Buenos Aires. Currently he is a professor of urban management in the Institute’s B.A. program in urbanism. He also teaches urban development at master’s programs at the School of Architecture, Urbanism and Design of the University of La Plata, as well as at universities in Mar del Plata and Córdoba. In addition, he directs the master planning of the Matanza-Riachuelo watershed in Buenos Aires.
Land Lines: How long have you been involved with the Institute’s Latin America Program?
Eduardo Reese: My relationship dates back to 1997 when we were drafting the plan for the City of Córdoba, which included several large-scale urban projects. We worked to expand the debate about the impacts of these projects on the land market and, consequently, on shaping the city. I continued to participate in various activities, and four years ago I took over the coordination of the annual lectures of the Land Management in Large Urban Projects series, following the death of Mario Lungo, who had led that program for many years.
In 2004, in conjunction with the Conurbano Institute of the National University of General Sarmiento, we conducted a course on Land Markets: Theory and Tools for Policy Management, which was the first one involving a seven-month training program for 50 Argentine students. That educational experience helped create a critical mass of technicians and professionals with an innovative vision toward the management of land policies. The program’s impact has been reflected in urban policy decisions in different municipalities (such as San Fernando and Morón in Greater Buenos Aires); in the Argentine Constitution; in the Urban Reform Movement in 2005; and in academic changes at the Conurbano Institute itself.
Land Lines: What role can large urban projects play in the quality of life of Latin American cities?
Eduardo Reese: Large-scale projects in defined sectors of the city (both central and peripheral areas) have been great protagonists of contemporary urbanism in the past quarter century. Today in Latin America there are many types and sizes of projects, even though more rigorous theoretical thinking is still needed. Important examples are the Bicentennial Portal (Portal del Bicentenario) projects in Santiago de Chile; the Integral Urban Projects (Proyectos Urbanos Integrales) in Medellín, Colombia; urban operations in different cities of Brazil; and the restructuring project in the northwestern sector of San Fernando (Argentina).
Large-scale urban operations as instruments of intervention in the city have been implemented for many decades. In Buenos Aires, for instance, the Avenida de Mayo and the Diagonals, which were planned around 1880, had important impacts on physical space as well as in social, economic, and symbolic aspects. This approach of multiple impacts undoubtedly allowed better assimilation of the Avenida de Mayo, but it also generated a huge debate over who should finance the operation and who would appropriate the land rents generated. Ultimately the Supreme Court ruled that the municipality could not finance the work with the surplus created because the rents belonged entirely to the landowners. For many years this case set a judicial precedent regarding the state’s intervention in the process of valuing land generated by a large-scale public project.
Land Lines: You have a critical view on the widely acclaimed Puerto Madero urban regeneration project in Buenos Aires. What would you do differently in other large redevelopment areas?
Eduardo Reese: Puerto Madero is emblematic of urban projects that promote a model of segregated urban planning and are now being “exported” to other countries as a basic tool to compete for international investment. In this project the state submitted to the market and allowed the construction of an exclusive neighborhood for very high-income sectors. It is a notorious example of public policy explicitly designed to favor the wealthy segments without any recovery of the huge land valuations that were the product of public policy.
Moreover, to guarantee investors an overvaluation of the properties they purchased, the venture has a number of features that cut it off (physically and socially) from the rest of the city, creating even greater value because of its segregation. Puerto Madero has no external wall, as gated condominiums have, but rather multiple implicit, explicit, and symbolic signals that clearly indicate this place is off limits to most of society.
In the end, Puerto Madero is a clear demonstration of the regressive distribution of urban planning and public policy: a trouble-free ghetto for the rich.
Land Lines: As municipalities continue to compete for outside investments, is it possible to reconcile alternative objectives such as social and environmental priorities?
Eduardo Reese: The problem in our cities is not the lack of planning, but the current exclusionary pattern of planning policies. There cannot be one law for the formal city and exceptions for the rest. It is necessary to create a new urban and legal order in Latin America based on the right to the city, the equitable sharing of the benefits of urbanization, and the social function of land ownership.
Land Lines: How does the municipality of San Fernando in the Buenos Aires metropolitan area offers an alternative to this approach?
Eduardo Reese: San Fernando is located some 30 kilometers (km) north of Buenos Aires, with a land area of 23 square km and a population of 156,000 inhabitants. A 5 km long riverside faces the Río Luján and another part of the city faces the mouth of Río de la Plata, where productive nautical activities are concentrated. This privileged location has high property values and all urban services.
The plan and model of urban land management in the city began in 2003 through an agreement between the municipality and the Conurbano Institute. In 2005, a Lincoln Institute training seminar helped broaden the local debate on land management, which led to a series of major decisions:
The urban policy focused on a set of action strategies including (1) ensuring accessibility to new public spaces for recreational, sports and commercial purposes on the riverside, especially for the use and enjoyment of the poor; and (2) the comprehensive regularization of the western sector of the municipality, where most poverty is concentrated.
To implement these strategies it was necessary to increase fiscal resources for public investment in two ways: appropriation of the profitability of land use or municipal land on the riverside through the creation of the Consortium San Fernando Marina Park Company (PNSFSA) and participation of the municipality in the surplus generated from municipal tax reform. (PNSFSA is a company created by the municipality of San Fernando to manage the riverside of the northwest sector of the city, defined as Marina Park.)
The experience of San Fernando is based on a set of management tools within an urban plan focused on the redistribution of income to build a more equitable city. Land is considered a key asset within a wider strategy of local development and, therefore, management relies on a broad mix of planning, administrative, economic, fiscal, and legal instruments aimed at strengthening the role of the public sector. The core axis of policies is the search for equity in the distribution of the costs and benefits of urbanization, within the challenging context of growing pressure on land throughout metropolitan Buenos Aires.
Land Lines: What could or should be changed in the educational system that trains urban planners and managers in Latin America?
Eduardo Reese: First, it is necessary to incorporate a greater understanding of the functioning of land markets in the present context of developing and shaping cities. Second, a more critical analysis is needed of adequate theoretical, methodological and technical instruments to undertake diagnosis and intervention in urban land issues. The 2004 course on Land Markets that I described earlier attempted to develop these kinds of materials to enable students to cover the different scales and dimensions of the problem.
Land Lines: What tensions exist between private and public interests in urban planning?
Eduardo Reese: This is a critical question because the whole history of urban land management has had a common thread: the rights of private ownership of land and the structure of ownership have always come into conflict with urban planning activity, which is a public responsibility. In that sense, there will always be tension between public and private interests in building the city.
In my view, urban projects in Latin America have the responsibility to contribute not only to the creation of new spaces for public use and enjoyment, employment generation and environmental sustainability, but also social inclusion, equity in the access to services and the redistribution of urban rents generated by the project. The four cases on Chile, Colombia, Brazil, and Argentina mentioned earlier show that these benefits are possible in many contexts.
However, instead many urban projects have been justified as necessary to attract investment and/or consumers and to ensure or reinforce the dynamic competitive advantages of the city. These undoubtedly positive goals are sometimes used as a mechanism to legitimize interventions that deepen the serious sociospatial segregation of cities. Such adverse effects of the market are not fatal to the city, but are the outcome of perverse political choices.
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Jay Espy joined the Elmina B. Sewall Foundation as its first executive director in January 2008. Based in Brunswick, Maine, the foundation focuses on the environment, animal welfare, and human well-being, primarily in Maine.
For the prior two decades, Espy served as president of Maine Coast Heritage Trust, a statewide land conservation organization. During his tenure, the Trust accelerated its land protection efforts along Maine’s entire coast by conserving more than 125,000 acres and establishing the Maine Land Trust Network, which helps build capacity of local land trusts throughout Maine. He also led the Trust’s successful Campaign for the Coast, raising more than $100 million for conservation and doubling the amount of protected land on Maine’s coast and islands.
Espy received his A.B. from Bowdoin College and master’s degrees in business and environmental studies from Yale’s School of Management and its School of Forestry and Environmental Studies. He serves on the board of the Maine Philanthropy Center and the Canadian Land Trust Alliance. He is a former chair of the Land Trust Alliance, a national organization serving land trusts throughout the United States. In October 2010 he was named the Kingsbury Browne Fellow for 2010–2011 through a joint program of the Land Trust Alliance and the Lincoln Institute.
Land Lines: How did you first become involved in the field of land conservation?
Jay Espy: Early in my senior year at Bowdoin College a wonderful placement counselor pointed out that some real-world experience might be useful in helping me secure gainful employment. I landed an internship documenting seabirds in Maine’s Casco Bay as part of an oil spill contingency planning project. This experience kindled an intense passion for the Maine coast and set the stage for my professional career. Following a stint working for an environmental consulting firm, graduate study in business, forestry, and environmental science at Yale, and several more internships, I was thrilled to accept an entry-level job at Maine Coast Heritage Trust (MCHT) in Topsham. At the time MCHT was a small statewide land trust and a great “school of hard knocks” for an aspiring 20-something conservationist with virtually no credentials.
Land Lines: What are some of the most significant land conservation projects in which you have been involved?
Jay Espy: In the late 1980s a 12,000-acre parcel of coastal land in far Down East Maine near the Canadian border was put up for sale by a major corporation divesting all of its timberland holdings in the northeastern United States and Maritime Canada. This was the largest remaining undeveloped block of coastal land in Maine, and one of the largest anywhere on the eastern seaboard. MCHT had never before faced such an exciting or daunting challenge.
In partnership with the State of Maine, The Conservation Fund, and the Richard King Mellon Foundation, MCHT led an effort to acquire the property and to work with local and state officials on a plan to conserve the land while incorporating appropriate working forest management, recreational trail development, and affordable housing in the Town of Cutler. Although we didn’t know it at the time, we were doing “community conservation” by engaging a wide range of constituents with varying interests. This project also put MCHT in the business of landscape-scale conservation. Dozens of projects have since been completed in that region, known as Maine’s Bold Coast. More than 20 miles of breathtaking shoreline are now accessible to the public and provide economic opportunities for the community.
I feel privileged to have helped protect many other lands, both large and small. Marshall Island, a 1,000-acre gem 15 miles offshore from the Blue Hill peninsula, was once slated for major development, but now has an extensive coastal trail system developed by MCHT. Aldermere Farm in Camden and Rockport is an iconic saltwater farm. Albert Chatfield began raising Belted Galloway cattle here in the 1950s, and the farm has been home to an award-winning breeding herd ever since. Following donation of the property in 1999, MCHT has greatly expanded farm programs for local youth and the community in general and protected additional nearby lands that are being used to support the growing local food movement.
Land Lines: When did you become aware of the Lincoln Institute’s work in land conservation, and how have you been involved in our programs?
Jay Espy: The timing of my entry into the conservation field was most fortuitous. Within months of joining MCHT, I was invited to a gathering of conservation professionals at the Lincoln Institute, co-hosted by the Land Trust Alliance (then known as the Land Trust Exchange). I had previously met Kingsbury Browne very briefly at a conference in Washington, DC, but at that gathering I had the chance to spend a full day with him and some of the other revered leaders of the modern land conservation movement.
Over the course of many years, the Lincoln Institute became a “watering hole” for conservationists, many of them originally assembled by Kingsbury, and they became valued mentors to me as I learned the trade. The Institute has continued to be a place where creative minds gather to innovate and where cutting-edge research and communication for the broader conservation community are encouraged. I am honored to be part of that legacy as a Kingsbury Browne Fellow.
Land Lines: What do you see as future trends in land conservation?
Jay Espy: The conservation field is growing, changing, and maturing in what I believe is a very healthy way. Not long ago many of us in the field thought land conservation was all about the land. I well remember early land trust brochures full of pictures of beautiful landscapes, but entirely devoid of people. Fortunately, that’s no longer true.
Today, most of us in the movement understand that land conservation is about land and people. It’s about how our communities benefit from healthy ecosystems; how outdoor recreational opportunities close to home combat youth inactivity and obesity; how protected farmland contributes to food security and the availability of nutritious local food; how outdoor spaces incorporating local arts and entertainment contribute to vibrant downtowns; how clean water, forestland, and a host of other sustainably managed natural resources support economic development and jobs; and how well-managed land allows each of us individually and collectively to live richer, fuller lives.
All across the country, the silos that have separated the work of conservation, public health, arts, education, hunger, housing, food production, and economic development are coming down. I’m encouraged by this trend. Our work today will only stand the test of time if it has direct and tangible benefit to people over many decades. Collaborative engagement of those with wide and varied interests seems an essential ingredient in any successful recipe for enduring conservation.
Land Lines: How can the challenges of funding conservation become opportunities?
Jay Espy: We do face many challenges on the funding front. Public funding from traditional federal and state government sources has been declining, private foundations have seen the corpus of their endowments erode, and individual donors have been understandably more conservative with their philanthropic investments as the markets have seesawed. As a result, fewer of the mega-scale land deals requiring tens of millions of dollars that we saw in the late 1990s and early 2000s are being launched today.
That said, there is still a great deal of very important conservation work being funded around the country. Public support for local conservation remains high, with most local bond initiatives continuing to pass by wide margins. Foundation and individual giving for conservation has not tanked as many feared. Funders remain supportive, but have become more discerning. Also, conservation projects that address multiple human interests and engage multiple partners appear to be attracting new, nontraditional sources of support. I recently spoke with a health funder who views securing more land for public recreation as a critical preventative healthcare measure. Funding for farmland conservation has also grown substantially in recent years, fueled in part by the explosive popularity of the local food movement.
Land Lines: Can you share some examples of innovative land conservation successes?
Jay Espy: In a remote area of eastern Maine, the Downeast Lakes Land Trust has been working for more than a decade to protect large swaths of forestland with extensive shore frontage near the community of Grand Lake Stream. These lands and waters have supported the timber and recreation-based economy for more than a century. With the decline in the paper and pulp industry, several large commercial timber holdings have been sold.
Rather than simply wait for the inevitable development of seasonal vacation homes and resulting loss in local culture, the community has worked in remarkable ways to acquire tens of thousands of acres and miles of shore land for use as a revenue-generating forest, wildlife preserve, and remote recreational areas. Local business owners, fishing and hunting guides, representatives from state and federal agencies, members of the Passamaquoddy Indian Tribe, and elected officials from the local to the national levels have all joined forces with the land trust to acquire these properties and manage them for sustainable timber revenue, as well as for other traditional uses, including hunting, fishing, camping, and paddling.
In the central Maine town of Skowhegan, an enterprising young woman has acquired an old county jail, which she is converting into a grain mill. Once operational, the mill will process approximately 600 tons of grain annually, an amount requiring roughly 600 acres of farmland cultivated in grain crops. This area of Maine was once a thriving wheat-growing region, and is purported to have supplied the Union troops with a substantial portion of their bread during the Civil War. Located in the heart of town, the parking lot of the old jail already serves as the site of a successful local farmers market. A commercial kitchen and several food and crafts business are co-locating in the jail, helping to create a “food hub.”
Skowhegan is the county seat of one of the most impoverished counties in Maine. Could the food hub start to change the fortunes of this region? Could a growing demand for grain stem the tide of farmland loss and result in more farmland acres being conserved and cultivated? Signs suggest the answer is to both questions is “yes.” I think what’s happening in Skowhegan is a wonderful example of the new face of conservation. It’s not yet readily recognizable, but I suspect we’ll get to know this community-based approach better in the years ahead.
Land Lines: What are your expectations about the role of conservation in the current volatile economy?
Jay Espy: I’m quite optimistic because adversity has a way of bringing people together. With less, we’re learning how to work collectively to do more. As more people participate in conservation, develop relationships with and around land, and experience the positive impact those relationships bring to their lives, I’m convinced we will see even more widespread, meaningful, and durable conservation achievements. Land, people, and community are all deeply intertwined. Ironically, these trying times may be accelerating the inevitable transformation of conservation into an endeavor that benefits even more people and more aspects of community life.
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For every travel article featuring a Caribbean paradise with gentle waters lapping a sandy beach, there is an anxious news story about a brewing hurricane. The Lesser Antilles, an archipelago of small islands that form a crescent in the eastern Caribbean, have always been particularly vulnerable, thrust into the volatile waters of the Atlantic Ocean. In 1776, the Pointe-à-Pitre hurricane struck the French colony of Guadeloupe and killed 6,000, making it the deadliest Atlantic storm on record at that time. Four years later, the Great Hurricane of 1780 hit even harder, making landfall in Barbados, then ravaging nearby islands, killing at least 20,000 and wrecking British and French fleets maneuvering at the height of the American Revolution. Two centuries and dozens of storms later, even Hurricane Ivan wasn’t as deadly when it devastated Grenada in 2004, leaving the parliament in ruins and 85 percent of the structures on the island damaged.
In recent decades, climate change has heightened threats to the region. U.S. strategies employed in the wake of Hurricane Katrina or Superstorm Sandy are not especially relevant to the fragile, yet vibrant islands of the Lesser Antilles, from Puerto Rico in the north to Trinidad and Tobago in the south. With tourism-dependent economies and extremely limited amounts of developable land, especially on mountainous islands, this potpourri of independent countries, dependent territories, and overseas departments share a common land use challenge: how to grapple with development patterns oriented toward the coast while managing the growing threat of sea level rise.
One island in the region stands out for its exceptional capacity to recognize and prepare for the rising tide: Pear-shaped Barbados has become a Caribbean leader in integrated coastal zone management—the contemporary practice of integrating sectors, levels of government, and disciplines to address the coastal zone both in the water and on dry land. Coastal land use and environmental management are always contentious issues on a small island. But, as former UN Secretary General Kofi Annan once remarked, “Barbados consistently punches above its weight.” Almost 50 years since independence, the island nation has leveraged a combination of foresight, international support, and local capacity to develop planning institutions and prepare for an uncertain future.
From Sugar to Sun Worshippers
Today, Barbados is famous as a top international tourist destination, with trademark white-sand beaches, warm aquamarine water, and ample sunshine along its 60 miles of coastline. Nearly 300,000 people live on the 166 square-mile island; 44 percent of Barbadians are classified as living in urban areas, centered in Bridgetown and along the developed south and west coasts. With a per capita GDP of US$23,600 and near-universal literacy, Barbados ranks 38th in the world and first in the Caribbean according to the United Nations Development Programme’s 2013 Human Development Index. Relying on its sand and surf, Barbados derives 80 percent of its US$4.4 billion GDP from its tourism and service industries.
But this evolution is a recent one, part of a similar pattern of development across the Caribbean in light of independence movements and the advent of commercial aviation. Originally inhabited by a native Amerindian population, Barbados was first settled in 1627 by the English, who quickly turned it into one of the world’s leading sugar producers. Barbados’s colonial history is unusual for the region; unlike many other Caribbean islands that saw multiple changes of European powers, Barbados did not leave British rule until independence in 1966—earning it the nickname “Little England.”
The colonial economy was a classic model of trade to enrich the metropolis. The English imported African slaves to work sugarcane plantations, molasses refineries, and rum distilleries. As a result, 90 percent of modern-day Barbadians claim African descent. Following independence, the already-lagging sugar crop, which suffered fluctuations common to any monoculture, became even less reliable as the push for free trade led the U.K. and later the EU to slowly draw down subsidies and preferential pricing.
At the same time, Barbados invested heavily in its tourism services, which shifted the locus of development. Historically, the island was mostly rural, with sugarcane plantations carving up the interior of the country, home to slaves and, later, itinerant sharecroppers toting moveable wooden “chattel” houses, Barbados’s typical vernacular architecture. The coast was home to Bridgetown, the principal port, where a navigable river meets the ocean, and a few smaller towns and fishing villages. A deep-water port dredged in 1961 also laid the groundwork for the arrival of cruise ships. The growing number of tourists necessitated hotels, resorts, restaurants, shops, and bars, all within a stone’s throw of the ocean. This impulse led to strips of coastal development between the airport and Bridgetown, on the south coast, and along the west coast, home to the calmest water and charming Holetown and Speightstown. By the 1990s, Barbados’s Grantley Adams International Airport was receiving regularly scheduled British Airways flights from London on one of the few Concorde supersonic jets.
The Local Response to Rising Waters
Lying just east of the main arc of the other eastern Caribbean islands, outside the Atlantic hurricane belt, Barbados has a meteorological advantage. Although it’s still susceptible to major storms, it experiences far fewer hurricanes than its neighbors to the northwest. Yet any threat to the beach and coral lining Barbados would have devastating consequences, given the island’s economic dependence on the coast. Its well-being is endangered by creeping sea level rise, coupled with possible storm surge if the island suffers even a glancing blow from a major hurricane. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) has strong evidence that following a period of almost no change for centuries, there was an increase in global sea level measures in the 20th century, and that trend is accelerating in the 21st century. In August, the IPCC said sea levels could rise more than three feet by 2100.
Never a major contributor of carbon emissions, small island states are disproportionately impacted by global climate change resulting from modern industrialization elsewhere in the world. Shifts in weather patterns have produced a greater number of major storm systems, increased global temperatures, melted polar ice caps, and contributed to sea level rise. While major industrialized countries such as the United States, China, and Western Europe also experience impacts from sea level rise, the vulnerable proportion of these countries is miniscule compared to the susceptible areas of Barbados. The developed world’s inability to understand the impacts and consequences of its behavior, as evidenced by political inaction on issues such as carbon cap-and-trade agreements, has forced countries in the developing world to act now or face a perilous future.
Paradoxically, Barbados’s imperial history—often a burden on postcolonial countries—has proved an advantage, in that the island has a long, uninterrupted history of British-style town and country planning. Like the United Kingdom, Barbados is administratively divided into parishes, and modern development law is based on the British Town and Country Planning Act of 1947. Once independent, Barbados established its own planning framework with the 1972 Town and Country Planning Development Order. Presently, the Town and Country Development Planning Office (TCDPO) oversees all construction on the island, with the chief town planner reporting directly to the prime minister.
The Physical Development Plan from 1988 guides development on the island. Since the document’s amendment in 2003, there has been a turn toward sustainable development, not just as a catch phrase, but as an inherent value for the government’s vision for the island. In a 2008 conference speech, the previous prime minister, David Thompson, outlined a few core ideas of the plan: protect natural, agricultural, and cultural resources; promote mixed-use centers and corridors to encourage a diversified economy; maintain central Bridgetown as the financial and commercial hub; and stimulate tourism by the modernization of older beachfront properties and development of new opportunities. Today, the current prime minister, Freundel Stuart, continues this push for sustainability, as shown by his participation in high-level panels at last year’s United Nations Conference on Sustainable Development, Rio+20.
By the late 1970s, individual property owners began to notice coastal erosion affecting their land. The media began to harp on this issue, as it was concurrent with the push for tourism, quickly becoming the country’s main source of foreign exchange reserve. Prompted by this coastal erosion—but also concerned about catastrophic events such as hurricanes, earthquakes, tidal waves, volcanic eruptions, and oil spills—the Barbados government embarked on a diagnostic pre-feasibility study in 1981 with funding from the Inter-American Development Bank (IDB) as part of its Coastal Conservation Program. The study focused on the west and south coasts, as these areas of the island had the greatest potential for tourism infrastructure. At that time, the government set up the temporary Coastal Conservation Project Unit (CCPU), which oversaw the pre-feasibility study and came to a series of conclusions on the causes of coastal erosion and damage to beachfronts. For example, because inland Barbados had poor water quality, the runoff polluted the sea, damaging coral reefs. Natural phenomena, such as storm swells and the occasional erratic hurricane, also caused erosion. In turn, the sea defense structures in place were poorly designed. The IDB study mandated the CCPU to continue monitoring the shorelines, to provide advice to the public on coastal matters, and to serve as an advisor to the TCDPO on waterfront development.
Coastal Zone Management Unit is Born
As the Coastal Conservation Project Unit continued its mandate for a decade, the Government of Barbados, along with additional funding from the IDB, embarked on another study, which recommended the establishment of a permanent unit to oversee the coastal zone. This Coastal Zone Management Unit (CZMU) was created in 1996 to regulate, make recommendations, and educate the Barbadian population about coastal management. Still receiving a large amount of its funding from the IDB, the CZMU is currently housed in the Ministry of Environment, Water Resources, and Drainage. As its title suggests, the CZMU manages the coastal zone, which it defines as “the transition zone where the land meets water; the region that is directly influenced by marine hydrodynamic processes; extends offshore to the continental shelf break and onshore to the first major change in topography above the reach of major storm waves.” Therefore, the unit oversees the coral reefs around Barbados and all coastal engineering projects, while serving as an advisor to the TCDPO for onshore coastal development.
Land use issues are at the forefront of the relationship between the CZMU and TCDPO. When the TCDPO receives any application for development in the coastal zone, it forwards it automatically to the CZMU for review and comment. Since the tourism industry is based mainly in the coastal zone of the island, many of Barbados’s development applications go through the CZMU for review. The unit vets the application to make sure the setbacks are correct, 30 meters from the high water mark for developments along the beach and 10 meters for developments along cliffs, measured from the landward point of undercut. In addition to verifying setbacks, the CZMU looks at drainage requirements, buffer zones, fencing restrictions, and other regulations. The CZMU then makes recommendations to the TCDPO on the application.
CZMU Acting Director Dr. Lorna Inniss, who holds a Ph.D. in oceanography from Louisiana State University, praises this process. She says, “Our interministerial collaboration is extremely high. We have the ability to establish and improve government structure that’s inclusive and consultative by nature.” The government process is admirable for its cooperation and silo-breaking tendencies; unfortunately the CZMU’s recommendations are purely advisory and have no binding power for the TCDPO to enforce. Regulations in the coastal zone are not retroactive for the legions of properties built during the resort boom, and penalties for violations also remain very low. This process is the closest Barbados approaches to a formalized environmental impact assessment, per a U.S. model, but it’s a strong first step for the Caribbean. CZMU and TCDPO have been more successful in planning for low-impact future development—along the more rugged east coast, for example, where the Physical Development Plan envisions a national park.
The CZMU is most effective in implementing coastal engineering projects to protect the coastline and stop beach erosion. The most natural conservation technique is to restore sand dunes and mangroves. Planting vegetation in the coastal areas allows the dunes to form naturally and hold back inundations from storm surges, while mangroves absorb wave action. Beach nourishment is a popular quick fix but more of a Band-Aid approach that is more costly and less effective, as currents and storms can easily erode the nourished beach.
The CZMU safeguards the coast with various physical interventions as well, including breakwaters, groynes, and seawalls. Breakwaters are concrete structures, sunken close to the beach, that force waves to break farther from the coast so they don’t directly pummel the sand. Groynes are rock structures that jut out into the ocean to disrupt the movement of sediment. Seawalls are the CZMU’s largest type of intervention. Intended to protect more populated areas, these construction projects involve either a riprap design of large rocks or a flat, concrete seawall that can create public space attractive to both tourists and residents, such as the Richard Haynes Boardwalk, partially funded by an IDB loan. Because these techniques can sometimes exacerbate erosion and require more expensive maintenance than natural interventions, their long-term efficacy is up for debate, but, in the short term, they protect the coastline and the tourism industry.
Given the island’s vulnerability to storms, engineering projects can be costly. Inniss, however, explains, “We have a policy of rigorous stakeholder consultation, and it’s not just lip service. November through April is our high season; on a recent project in Holetown, we heard from merchants that it was vital to complete work by November, so we hustled to do so. In a spirit of mutual cooperation, we can get private sector buy-in.” Hopefully, the CZMU can leverage the political capital it earns from the private sector on such projects, in order to make more demanding regulations become binding down the road.
In order to build support, the CZMU maintains a major outreach campaign to educate the island’s population, to which Inniss herself attributes the success of the CZMU internally and externally: “It begins with a nationally high level of education and literacy—over 98 percent for decades.” Former Senator Henry Fraser echoes her, “People ask, ‘Why do things work in Barbados?’ It’s largely because of the emphasis on education since emancipation. And, because it’s a small, highly religious place with people living close together, respect, tolerance, and a work ethic are greater than elsewhere.”
To deepen the educational foundation of Barbados’s cooperative approach to coastal zone management, the CZMU distributes a newsletter, maintains a strong social media presence, and produces an educational television show that explains the geological history of the island and techniques to raise awareness about sea level rise and the importance of coastal management. It also hosts many activities such as International Coastal Clean-Up Day, Sundown Beach Walks, Summer Seminar Series, and a summer internship program for secondary- and tertiary-level students. It also provides lectures for schools and educational institutions, NGOs, private organizations, and the general public.
Next Steps and Global Cooperation
The IDB continues to be a major supporter of Barbados’s efforts. The development bank’s most recent aid to the country includes a 25-year, $30 million loan to pursue a Coastal Risk Assessment and Management Programme. Inniss is excited by the confidence that such support expresses, as it indicates the government’s belief that the CZMU can execute a project that will create enough value to repay the money. “It will be a next level, state-of-the-art integrated coastal zone management strategy that will involve a series of stakeholders: tourism, rum distilleries, light and power utilities, marinas, boaters, commercial fishermen, the port, divers,” Inniss details. “Key decision makers have recognized that coastal zone management is important not just as an environmental program but to grow the economy of Barbados.” Hopefully other Caribbean countries have taken notice, as Inniss herself has provided technical assistance to St. Lucia, Trinidad and Tobago, and St. Vincent and the Grenadines—while in turn taking cues from New Zealand, Hawaii, and Fisheries and Oceans Canada as a model of how to implement international standards.
Of course, there is still room for improvement. Even as the CZMU works closely with TCPDO on land use planning, with national marine parks to conduct ecosystem-based monitoring, and with civil engineers from the Ministry of Public Works, CZMU is still not fully integrated with the Ministry of Agriculture and Fishing. For example, Inniss acknowledges, “We know scientifically that agricultural runoff is the biggest contributor of marine pollutants.”
Indeed, on a small island, the land and water are intrinsically interconnected. While Barbados continues to do its part in the battle against global climate change—another IDB loan signed alongside the coastal management funding will establish an Energy Smart Fund to reduce dependence on fossil fuels—it cannot sit tight and wait for the larger countries of the world to act. As small, developing island states in the Indian and Pacific oceans face the prospect of resettling their populations in other countries a few decades down the road, Barbadians plan to stay and protect their piece of paradise.
About the Authors
Gregory R. Scruggs was a consultant to the American Planning Association for Latin America and the Caribbean from 2010 to 2013. He is currently pursuing a master’s in regional studies of Latin America and the Caribbean at Columbia University. Contact: gscruggs.apa.consult@gmail.com.
Thomas E. Bassett, a senior program associate at the American Planning Association, works on the Energy and Climate Partnership of the Americas grant from the U.S. Department of State as well as the domestic Community Assistance Program. Contact: thomas.e.bassett@gmail.com.
Resources
Bassett, Thomas E. and Gregory R. Scruggs. 2013. Water, Water Everywhere: Sea level Rise and Land Use Planning in Barbados, Trinidad and Tobago, Guyana, and Pará. Lincoln Institute of Land Policy Working Paper WP13TB1. https://www.lincolninst.edu/pubs/dl/2282_1621_Bassett_WP13TB1.pdf.
Belle, N. and B. Bramwell. 2005. Climate change and small island tourism: Policy maker and industry perspectives in Barbados. Journal of Travel Research 44: 32–41.
Dharmartne, G. and A. Brathwaite. 1998. Economic valuation of coastline for tourism in Barbados. Journal of Travel Research 37: 138–144.
Inter-American Development Bank. 2010. Indicators of disaster risk and risk management, Program for Latin America and the Caribbean, Barbados. September. Accessed July 9, 2012. http://idbdocs.iadb.org/wsdocs/getdocument.aspx?docnum=35160015.
Phillips, M. R. and A. L. Jones. 2006. Erosion and tourism infrastructure in the coastal zone: Problems, consequences, and management. Tourism Management 27: 517–52.
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Los viejos residentes de Detroit recuerdan las décadas de 1950 y 1960 como una era dorada de la planificación urbana. Bajo Charles Blessing, el carismático jefe de planificación de la ciudad entre 1953 y 1977, Detroit llevó a cabo una serie de intentos ambiciosos para rediseñar su paisaje urbano. Dejando de lado un siglo de conventillos y estructuras comerciales pequeñas, se creó el emprendimiento residencial de Lafayette Park, diseñado por Mies van der Rohe, adosado al este del centro, un parque para industrias ligeras, al oeste del centro y manzana tras manzana de viviendas de baja altura para residentes de ingresos moderados, en el norte. Edward Hustoles, un veterano planificador jubilado de aquellos años, recuerda que Blessing era tan reconocido como visionario en Detroit que bosquejaba sus planes sobre el mantel mientras almorzaba en un buen restaurante; si el mesero se quejaba, Blessing enrollaba el mantel y le decía que lo agregara a su cuenta.
Pero los tiempos cambian. Blessing se jubiló en la década de 1970, y para entonces Detroit estaba sumiéndose en su larga y agonizante pendiente hacia la ruina del cordón industrial. El doble flagelo de la desindustrialización y el crecimiento suburbano desordenado, que lastimó a tantas ciudades del corazón de los Estados Unidos, afectó a Detroit de manera particularmente intensa. Muchas fábricas, tan modernas cuando se construyeron a comienzos del siglo XX, parecían obsoletas en las décadas de 1950 y 1960, y en su mayoría fueron abandonadas a fines de la década de 1980. La nueva cultura suburbana del automóvil, facilitada por la construcción de la red federal de carreteras y otras medidas, alentó a cientos de miles de residentes a abandonar la ciudad para asentarse en Birmingham, Troy y otras comunidades periféricas. El éxodo se aceleró por las tensas relaciones raciales, que se hicieron particularmente tóxicas después de los disturbios civiles de 1967. Sin habitantes, el vasto inventario de pequeñas viviendas de madera para trabajadores se fue deteriorando; los incendios provocados, la droga, el hurto de metales, el deterioro y otros males corroyeron barrios enteros, forzando a la ciudad a demoler manzana tras manzana de casas en las décadas de 1990 y 2000, una tendencia acelerada por la crisis inmobiliaria de 2007–2008, que creó un círculo vicioso de mora en el pago de impuestos sobre la propiedad y ejecuciones hipotecarias, diezmando lo que quedaba del mercado inmobiliario de Detroit. Hoy, las mejores estimaciones sugieren que por lo menos 62 de los 360 km2 de Detroit están vacíos, y otros 15 a 23 km2 tienen viviendas desocupadas que se tienen que demoler. Agréguense los parques municipales que la ciudad ya no mantiene y los derechos de paso abandonados, como las viejas líneas de ferrocarril, y un 25 por ciento de Detroit (un área mayor que Manhattan) está vacante.
Para la década de 1990, la planificación urbana se había quedado obsoleta como foco y guía. Una serie de alcaldes trataron de engancharse en cualquier proyecto vistoso que surgiera: el tan difamado Renaissance Center en la década de 1970, o la apertura de casinos a finales de los noventa. El departamento de planificación municipal de Detroit encontró una nueva función administrando subvenciones federales en bloque para el desarrollo comunitario y, en años recientes, el departamento ha tenido más contadores que planificadores. Pero en 2010, el entonces alcalde David Bing lanzó una iniciativa estratégica para abordar el problema generalizado de suelos vacantes y la carga que ejercía sobre los servicios y presupuestos municipales. Dicho esfuerzo culminó en 2013 con la publicación de Detroit Future City, un marco de referencia integral de 354 páginas para fortalecer y volver a expandir los barrios deteriorados de Detroit y dar un nuevo destino a sus lotes y edificios vacíos en las décadas futuras. Detroit Future City, con sus estrategias de “reverdecimiento” extendido –incluyendo “paisajes productivos” que reutilizarían suelos vacantes mediante reforestación, lagunas de retención de agua de lluvia, instalación de paneles solares y producción de alimentos– recibió elogios como una nueva manera visionaria de pensar sobre las viejas ciudades industriales y de incluir a ciudadanos comunes y corrientes en la conversación sobre su futuro. “En los anales de participación cívica y planificación comunitaria, Detroit Future City es probablemente el ejercicio de planificación y extensión comunitaria más amplio que he visto”, dijo George W. McCarthy, presidente y Director Ejecutivo del Instituto Lincoln de Políticas de Suelo.
Orígenes y esencia
En 2010, tres años antes de que Detroit declarara la bancarrota municipal más grande de la historia de los EE.UU., la población se había reducido a 700.000 habitantes, de su pico de 1,85 millones en 1950. El alcalde de entonces, David Bing, se vio obligado a reajustar los servicios municipales a la reducción de la base imponible y del paisaje urbano. Su sugerencia inicial a los medios, de que iba a mudar a los pocos habitantes que quedaban fuera de los barrios “fantasma” más abandonados de Detroit, generó comparaciones despiadadas con los proyectos de renovación urbana del pasado e incluso abucheos acusatorios de “limpieza étnica”; su idea fue rápidamente guardada en un cajón. Ese mismo año, el alcalde y sus principales funcionarios organizaron una serie de reuniones comunitarias llamadas Detroit Works para iniciar un diálogo con la ciudadanía sobre la necesidad de repensar cómo debería operar la ciudad en el futuro. Pero los residentes tenían otras ideas. Las reuniones enseguida derivaron en sesiones caóticas de quejas, en las que cientos de residentes demandaban mejor alumbrado en las calles, protección policial y otros servicios municipales con urgencia.
McCarthy, que en ese entonces trabajaba en la Fundación Ford y respaldaba los esfuerzos de revitalización de Detroit, dijo que los líderes deberían haber pensado antes de actuar. “Cuando se incorpora a ciudadanos normales al proceso de planificación, lo consideran como si fuera una reunión pública y la manera de hacerse notar es gritar más fuerte”, dijo. “Si uno es sincero sobre la participación ciudadana, tiene que tomarse el tiempo para capacitar a los ciudadanos para ser planificadores. Hay que dedicar una cantidad importes de tiempo y atención para que la gente pueda comprender que la planificación consiste en tomar decisiones difíciles en un entorno constreñido”.
Con financiamiento de la Fundación Kresge y otras fuentes, la ciudad se reagrupó y contrató a equipos de consultores, algunos respetados a nivel nacional, como la Directora de Proyecto Toni L. Griffin, profesora y directora del Centro J. Max Bond de Diseño para la Ciudad Justa en la Facultad Spitzer de Arquitectura de City College en Nueva York. Con el liderazgo de Griffin, comenzaron a delinear el documento que se convertiría en Detroit Future City.
El grupo tuvo cuidado en evitar la palabra “plan” cuando se lo presentaron al público. A diferencia de un plan de ordenamiento convencional, que básicamente crea un mapa de qué usos se permitirá en los distintos lugares antes de que el sector privado llegue para desarrollarlos, Detroit Future City es un marco de referencia estratégico para pensar en los distintos tipos de barrio y cómo podría evolucionar cada uno, dadas las tendencias existentes.
“No queríamos dejar a la ciudad imágenes estáticas ilustrativas de cómo podría ser”, dice Griffin. “Ya había montones de ellas. Queríamos dejar a la ciudad una herramienta para que la gente pudiera manejar el cambio, porque, como ya se sabe, Detroit todavía tiene mucho por definir en términos de gobierno, estructuras fiscales, servicios municipales, pérdida de población y la composición siempre cambiante de suelos vacantes”.
El marco de referencia tenía que permitir a los dirigentes tomar decisiones mientras se producía el cambio a lo largo del tiempo. “Ofrece distintas estructuras para tomar decisiones que permiten, por ejemplo, decir: si esta es la condición actual, estos son los distintos tipos de opciones que se pueden considerar para pasar de A a B”, dice Griffin. Para simplificar: Si un barrio está mostrando un nivel significativo y creciente de vacancia, pero sigue teniendo un inventario utilizable de viviendas y comercios, el suelo vacante en esa zona se podría convertir en área de producción de alimentos o en un campo de paneles solares para alimentar a las empresas locales. Pero un barrio con poca vacancia y niveles mucho más altos de densidad podría planificar emprendimientos internos para sus pocos lotes vacantes. En vez de sugerir que la esquina de Woodward Avenue y 7 Mile Road debería tener un centro comercial, el marco de referencia ofrece una serie de ejemplos de lo que podría ocurrir dadas ciertas tipologías de barrios.
El lema fue: “Cada barrio tiene un futuro, pero no necesariamente el mismo futuro”.
Las estrategias de reverdecimiento de Detroit Future City fueron particularmente importantes y llamaron la mayor atención debido a la gran cantidad de suelos vacantes en los que la opción de desarrollo inmobiliario no era realista, y probablemente no lo fuera por muchos años más; quizá un tercio de la ciudad reclama un nuevo propósito y uso. Los puntos con más lotes vacantes del mapa se podrían hacer productivos con la instalación de campos de paneles solares productores de energía, reforestación, agricultura o “infraestructura azul”, como lagunas de retención de agua de lluvia, biocanales de drenaje y canales que proporcionan agua para riego agrícola y que desvían el agua de lluvia y la nieve derretida del sistema de alcantarillado combinado de Detroit, ya de por sí sobrecargado. Casi todos estos usos serían presuntamente esfuerzos privados, pero requerían de permisos municipales y quizá otro tipo de asistencia, como cambios de zonificación o sociedades con varios grupos filantrópicos o sin fines de lucro. “Hay que contar con una estrategia de reverdecimiento para poder usar el suelo de manera que, como mínimo, no presente una carga para las áreas pobladas existentes y, como máximo, aumente la calidad de vida, la productividad económica y la calidad medioambiental de la población de Detroit”, dice Alan Mallach, un consultor de Detroit Future City, fellow no residente del Brookings Institution, y autor de Regenerating America’s Legacy Cities (Cómo regenerar las ciudades tradicionales de los EE.UU.), publicado por el Instituto Lincoln.
Pero el plan contempla también densidades de población significativamente mayores en aquellas zonas de Detroit que ya se están regenerando, como el área extendida del centro, donde profesionales jóvenes han provocado un resurgimiento residencial recientemente, y donde empresas pioneras como Quicken Loans, que se mudó al centro en 2010, han llenado torres de oficinas previamente vacantes. Ello sugiere que los hospitales y corredores industriales existentes en Detroit podrían y deberían ver concentradas en ellos nuevas inversiones para aumentar las oportunidades de capacitación laboral y nuevos emprendimientos residenciales y minoristas en esos nodos. Los distritos de empleo claves se podrían interconectar con nuevas opciones de transporte público, como la línea de tranvía M-1 que se está construyendo a lo largo de Woodward Avenue, la calle principal de la ciudad, con financiamiento público-privado. La construcción de esta línea de 5 kilómetros de largo a un costo de US$140 millones comenzó a mediados de 2014, y conectará el centro desde Jefferson Avenue hasta el área de New Center, otro centro de actividad, a lo largo del distrito de Midtown, que se está revitalizando rápidamente. Se espera que la línea comience a operar a fines de 2016. Si los votantes aprueban un nuevo amillaramiento del impuesto sobre la propiedad que se presentará a su consideración presuntamente en 2016, la línea M-1 podría ser suplementada por un sistema regional de tránsito rápido por autobús que se construiría en los próximos años.
Mallach describe Detroit Future City “como un análisis realista de lo que está ocurriendo, para sugerir cómo gastar el dinero, dónde realizar las inversiones, a qué dar prioridad, etc.”.
“Detroit Future City ofrece un menú”, agrega. “No dice: este sitio deberá convertirse en una granja urbana; sólo sugiere opciones”.
Participación ciudadana
Las decisiones sobre qué ocurriría y dónde quedarían a criterio del proceso político, con la participación de los vecinos, dirigentes municipales y otras partes interesadas. De esa manera, la opinión pública sería crucial para el éxito del programa.
En 2012, el equipo de Detroit Future City contrató a Dan Pitera, profesor de la Facultad de Arquitectura de la Universidad de Detroit Mercy (UDM), para diseñar una nueva y mejor estrategia de participación que recogiera y orientara el deseo de cambio de los residentes. Los esfuerzos abarcaron desde sesiones de charla informales en torno a una “mesa itinerante” diseñada por los estudiantes de arquitectura de UDM, que se ubicó en varios lugares de la ciudad, hasta una serie de reuniones en centros comunitarios, donde 100.000 residentes participaron en debates sobre la rehabilitación urbana.
Durante la etapa de planificación de 2012 y principios de 2013, se abrió una nueva oficina al público en el distrito de Eastern Market para que los residentes pudieran conocer al personal, ver planes, responder a encuestas, etc. El personal de la oficina incluía a miembros del Centro de Diseño Colaborativo de UDM, dirigido por Pitera, y de la organización sin fines de lucro Recursos Legales Comunitarios. El grupo de Pitera también creó una aplicación de teléfono móvil para fomentar la participación comunitaria. Y el equipo creó 25 carteles de colores para identificar los distintos temas, como suelos vacantes o jardines comunitarios, y los distribuyó a millares por toda la ciudad.
En una reunión de sábado por la mañana en 2012 en la Misión de Rescate de Detroit, unos 50 residentes tuvieron una vista previa de lo que pasaría con distintos barrios, dependiendo de las condiciones existentes y los deseos de los residentes. Algunos de los asistentes expresaron una opinión positiva. “El diálogo es justo lo que necesitamos para volver a considerar los problemas reales”, dijo Phillis Judkins, de 65 años de edad, proveniente del distrito de North End. Y Larry Roberts, de 70 años de edad, quien vive en el barrio Indian Village de Detroit, dijo que las reuniones públicas de 2012 fueron más productivas que las reuniones masivas más bien caóticas de Detroit Works en el otoño de 2010. “Hoy parece que hay gente con ideas que nos pueden hacer progresar”, dijo.
Por supuesto, todavía había un poco de escepticismo sobre cuántas de estas buenas ideas se convertirían en políticas reales en una ciudad con un presupuesto tan restringido, y cuántas se concretarían alguna vez. “Si el gobierno municipal adopta este plan y nos comunica lo que va a hacer, creo que las cosas van a salir bien”, dijo Roberts.
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La controversia de la agricultura urbana
Un uso controvertido del suelo que la oficina ha fomentado proviene de una tendencia ya conocida en Detroit: la agricultura urbana. En los últimos 15 años, Detroit ha presenciado el nacimiento de más de 1.000 pequeños jardines comunitarios, incluidos entre ellos proyectos reconocidos a nivel nacional como Earthworks y D-Town Farm, cada uno de los cuales abarca unas pocas hectáreas. Pero en la actualidad la mayor parte de la actividad agrícola la realizan voluntarios, y la producción la consumen los vecinos, se dona a bancos de alimentos o, en algunos casos, se vende en mercados de agricultores locales. En años recientes Detroit se ha visto sumido en un intenso debate sobre la posibilidad de ampliar esta actividad a escala de agricultura comercial. Algunos proyectos, como Hantz Farms y RecoveryPark, han elaborado planes ambiciosos para convertir cientos de hectáreas para la producción de alimentos. Pero por el momento cada uno de estos esfuerzos tiene una escala relativamente pequeña mientras el debate sobre la oportunidad de la agricultura comercial continúa.
De todas maneras, el equipo de DFC sigue comprometido a producir muchos más alimentos dentro de la ciudad, tanto en terrenos vacantes como en fábricas abandonadas, donde se podrían realizar cultivos hidropónicos. El equipo de DFC, por ejemplo, está trabajando con RecoveryPark para diseñar un sistema de retención hídrica para regar los cultivos.
Como mínimo, la agricultura urbana podría ayudar a algunos emprendedores de alimentación locales a hacer crecer sus empresas, generar puestos de empleo y ampliar la base imponible, aunque sea en una escala modesta. La producción de alimentos también ayuda a generar un propósito comunitario alrededor de una actividad, eleva la conciencia sobre la nutrición y crea un nuevo uso productivo para lotes vacantes y fábricas en ruinas. “Detroit tiene la oportunidad de ser la primera ciudad del mundo con alimento asegurado”, dijo Kinkead.
Pero los funcionarios municipales no han aprobado aún estos proyectos agrícolas comerciales en gran escala, por temor a que los problemas secundarios, como polvo, ruido y olores, se les vayan fuera de control. Otros cuestionan si los bajos márgenes de las economías agrícolas (que dependen del trabajo pesado realizado en su mayoría por migrantes que ganan el salario mínimo) pudieran producir ingresos y trabajos suficientes como para justificar esta estrategia. McCarthy sigue siendo uno de los escépticos. “Creía que no era una buena idea cultivar productos alimenticios”, dijo. “La ecuación económica no lo justifica; los costos son prohibitivos, ya que no hace falta ir demasiado lejos para llegar a suelos agrícolas excelentes fuera de Detroit a un décimo del precio”. Así que el debate continúa, mientras el equipo de implementación de DFC sigue trabajando para producir más alimentos en los suelos vacantes de Detroit.
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En el ejercicio del actual alcalde, Mike Duggan, quien se hizo cargo del gobierno en 2014, se ha abierto una serie de oficinas en los barrios para comunicarse con los ciudadanos más de cerca que las administraciones anteriores, y recoger sus inquietudes. El nivel de participación comunitaria a la fecha ha puesto en evidencia que los habitantes de Detroit no se han dado por vencidos, incluso en los barrios más perjudicados.
La hora de la verdad
Felizmente, la preocupación de que Detroit Future City languidezca en algún cajón acumulando polvo, como tantos otros documentos lo hicieron antes en Detroit, parece infundada. Con el respaldo financiero y el liderazgo de Kresge, se estableció la Oficina de Implementación de Detroit Future City (DFC) como una organización sin fines de lucro encargada de implementar las visiones y sugerencias del plan. Dan Kinkead, un arquitecto que ayudó a escribir Detroit Future City, fue nombrado director de proyectos. El grupo tiene una sede permanente en el distrito New Center de Detroit y una plantilla de 12 miembros, incluyendo el personal disponible a través de varios programas de becarios se ha puesto en marcha en la ciudad. Kenneth Cockrel, un expresidente del Concejo Municipal de Detroit que ejerció brevemente como alcalde interino después de que el entonces alcalde Kwame Kilpatrick dimitiera por un escándalo en 2008, fue contratado a finales de 2013 para ser el director de la oficina de implementación.
A comienzos de 2015, la oficina de implementación había puesto en marcha múltiples proyectos piloto en alianza con otras organizaciones. Estos incluyen:
Campos solares. En colaboración con Focus: HOPE, organización sin fines de lucro para la capacitación laboral de la ciudad, y una pequeña empresa emergente, el equipo de DFC tiene pensado cubrir alrededor de 6 hectáreas de suelos vacantes con paneles solares. Kinkead estima que el campo podría producir cinco megavatios de energía, suficiente para alimentar varios cientos de casas. Los planificadores esperan comenzar el proyecto este año o el que viene, pero no se sabe bien a cuántas personas va a dar empleo.
Lagunas de retención de agua de lluvia. En el lado este de Detroit, el personal de DFC está considerando crear una serie de lagunas de retención de agua de lluvia en un barrio residencial, para evitar que drene en el sistema de alcantarillado. El barrio, conocido como Jefferson Village, había sido destinado a viviendas unifamiliares 15 años antes, pero ese proyecto quedó paralizado por falta de financiamiento, dejando docenas de lotes vacantes y muy poca demanda por ellos. Pero, con el financiamiento de la Fundación Erb local y con el asesoramiento del Departamento de Aguas y Alcantarillado de Detroit, el equipo de DFC ha identificado varias docenas de lotes vacantes para las lagunas de retención. Prevén que los propietarios cercanos podrían recibir una reducción en sus facturas de agua, puesto que el departamento ya no tendría que construir y mantener la infraestructura de grandes tuberías necesaria para recolectar el agua de lluvia que se mezcla con las aguas residuales. Si el esfuerzo resulta exitoso, se ampliará al resto de la ciudad.
Amortiguadores de carbono en los bordes de las carreteras. Una de las recomendaciones de DFC, la plantación de árboles como amortiguadores de carbono junto a las calles y carreteras principales, dio lugar, junto con la organización sin fines de lucro Greening of Detroit, a la mayor campaña de plantación de árboles de la ciudad a finales de 2014 en el lado oeste de Detroit, cerca de la carretera Southfield, uno de los conectores principales de norte a sur. Alrededor de 300 árboles fueron plantados por voluntarios en un solo día a lo largo de varias cuadras. Cuando maduren, estos árboles absorberán por lo menos algunas de las emisiones de carbono de la carretera.
Trish Hubbell, vocera de Greening of Detroit, dijo que la alianza con el equipo de implementación de DFC para este tipo de iniciativas eleva la visibilidad de cada proyecto, lo cual a su vez contribuye a la recaudación de fondos. Y el equipo de DFC aporta una gran cantidad de conocimientos sobre temas de uso del suelo en cada uno de estos empeños.
“Su valor más importante es que tienen un marco de referencia, de manera que pueden ayudar a determinar dónde se tienen que hacer las cosas”, dijo Hubbell. “El marco de referencia agrega valor a todas las oportunidades que se presenten”.
Construcción de consenso
En vez de ignorar Detroit Future City como un producto de una administración previa, el alcalde Duggan ha apoyado públicamente esta iniciativa como guía propia. Su asesor principal para temas laborales y económicos se refiere a su ejemplar ya desgastado de Detroit Future City como su “Biblia” para reorganizar la ciudad.
Jean Redfield, Directora Ejecutiva de Next-Energy, una organización sin fines de lucro de Detroit que trabaja por un futuro de energía sostenible para la ciudad, tiene otro ejemplar de Detroit Future City sobre su escritorio. “Lo uso mucho para encontrar el lenguaje específico necesario para hablar de opciones específicas”, dijo. “Uso algunos de los mapas y estadísticas con regularidad”. Y el equipo de NextEnergy colabora con el equipo de implementación de DFC para planificar una variedad de proyectos de infraestructura verdes y azules. “Nuestros caminos se cruzan con frecuencia”, declaró. “Allá donde surja una pregunta o un problema sobre el Departamento de Energía o la ciudad de Detroit relacionado con el uso del suelo, la infraestructura de energía, el alumbrado de calles o proyectos solares, frecuentemente trabajamos codo a codo con ellos”.
Como mencionamos, el equipo de implementación actúa más como asesor principal de otras agencias, como Greening of Detroit o el Departamento de Aguas y Alcantarillado de Detroit, que como protagonista. El Director de Implementación de DFC, Kenneth Cockrel, denomina al equipo una “agencia de planificación no gubernamental”. Explica: “Brindamos información para poder tomar decisiones, pero no tomamos las decisiones nosotros mismos. En última instancia, las recomendaciones del marco de referencia serán implementadas por el alcalde y el Concejo Municipal, si es que deciden ejecutarlas. Ellos son los que las pondrán en práctica”.
Cockrel también compara la implementación de Detroit Future City “con lo que ocurre cuando un libro se convierte en una película. No se filma el libro palabra por palabra y página por página. Algunas cosas se dejan de lado, y otras aparecen en la película. Me imagino que en última instancia esta será la estrategia utilizada por la administración Duggan”.
Como cualquier organización nueva, el equipo de DFC sigue afinando su papel a la búsqueda de dónde puede contribuir más. Kinkead concuerda que su papel se puede describir mejor con una paráfrasis del viejo lema corporativo de BASF: El equipo de DFC no implementa muchos proyectos innovadores en Detroit; simplemente hace que esos proyectos sean mejores.
“Vivimos en un mundo escurridizo”, dice Kinkead. “Es un tipo de juego distinto, pero nuestra misión se basa en brindar ayuda a los demás”.
A comienzos de 2015, quedó claro que muchas de las ideas innovadoras del corazón de Detroit Future City, como las estrategias de reverdecimiento, la producción de energía, los árboles como amortiguadores de carbono, los nuevos emprendimientos dedicados a distritos que ya son densos, que parecían ideas traídas por los pelos en 2010, cuando el entonces alcalde Bing lanzó su campaña Detroit Works, se han convertido en ideas normales.
“Ya no son sólo los ecologistas o activistas del cambio climático los que hablan sobre bosques de carbono; son los residentes y directores ejecutivos de las corporaciones de desarrollo comunitario”, dice Griffin. “Los líderes empresariales y los filántropos ahora reconocen su importancia. Un resultado importante de este trabajo es que hay un espectro más amplio de la ciudadanía que habla de estos temas, aunque no sean necesariamente una cuestión fundamental para sus actividades cotidianas.
Quizá sea igualmente importante la conciencia generalizada de que Detroit tiene que proporcionar servicios municipales de manera distinta, dada la realidad de los problemas económicos y la pérdida de población de la ciudad. La ciudad emergió con éxito de la bancarrota a finales de 2014, pero en el mejor de los casos esto le ha dado a Detroit un respiro para comenzar a crecer de nuevo. Si este crecimiento vuelve a producirse, la ciudad tiene que conducirlo de manera más inteligente que como lo hizo en los periodos de expansión del pasado, cuando el desarrollo se produjo en forma desordenada en toda la ciudad.
El camino por delante
Una de las razones por las que la ciudad y sus habitantes estaban listos para un documento como Detroit Future City fue la comprensión profunda de que los problemas de Detroit se debieron a la desindustrialización y el crecimiento suburbano desordenado. “Los residentes comenzaron a comprender que en realidad estaban subsidiando el crecimiento desordenado y la desinversión. Comenzaron a pensar en maneras de cambiar estos sistemas para que fueran más eficientes”, dijo Griffin.
Mientras este artículo se estaba preparando para su publicación, Detroit dio otro paso gigante para revitalizar sus actividades de planificación, que se encontraban en hibernación desde hace tiempo. El alcalde Duggan anunció que había contratado a Maurice Cox, el sumamente considerado director de Tulane City Center, un centro de recursos de diseño comunitario para Nueva Orleáns, y vicedecano de Community Engagement (Participación comunitaria) en la Facultad de Arquitectura de la Universidad de Tulane, como nuevo director de planificación de Detroit. En Nueva Orleáns, Cox facilita una amplia gama de alianzas entre la Universidad de Tulane, la Autoridad de Revitalización de Nueva Orleáns y la Ciudad de Nueva Orleáns. En Detroit, entre otras actividades, ayudará a convertir algunos de los marcos de referencia generales de Detroit Future City en recomendaciones de planificación específicas.
Si la planificación innovadora está otra vez de moda, como parece ser, es más descentralizada, menos enfocada en grandes proyectos y más en sintonía con las condiciones reales, que podrían demandar soluciones distintas en cada barrio. Y la cantidad de voces que se escuchan en los debates de planificación es mayor que nunca. Quizá la contribución final y más importante de Detroit Future City ha sido la de incorporar a los barrios y ciudadanos al mismo nivel que a los planificadores profesionales de gran prestigio para decidir la dirección futura de la ciudad.
En efecto, Detroit Future City ha inaugurado una nueva era de planificación, y no se parecerá casi o nada a la de la era de Blessing. “La planificación ciertamente ha resurgido, pero es fundamentalmente distinta de lo que fue hace 50 años”, dice Kinkead. “En las décadas de 1950 y 1960, los objetivos de planificación amplios de la ciudad eran frecuentemente la manifestación de una elite municipal gubernamental”.
“Para que la ciudad avance, hacen falta todos”, dice Kinkead. “No se trata sólo de Detroit Future City. No se trata sólo del gobierno. No se trata sólo del sector empresarial. Se trata de todos ellos trabajando juntos”.
John Gallagher cubre temas de desarrollo urbano para el Detroit Free Press. Sus libros Reimagining Detroit: Opportunities for Redefining an American City (Imaginando un Detroit nuevo: Oportunidades para redefinir una ciudad norteamericana) y Revolution Detroit: Strategies for Urban Reinvention (Revolución en Detroit: Estrategias para una reinvención urbana) se pueden obtener de Wayne State University Press.
Referencias
Detroit Future City. 2012. Detroit Future City: 2012 Detroit Strategic Framework Plan. Detroit, MI: Inland Press.
Mallach, Alan and Lavea Brachman. 2013. Regenerating America’s Legacy Cities. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.
Skidmore, Mark. 2014. “Will a Greenbelt Help to Shrink Detroit’s Wasteland?” Land Lines 26 (4): 8–17.
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The popular sectors in most Latin American cities are at a serious disadvantage in influencing land use planning and management in their communities. Although neighborhood activists may be well-organized locally, their interests are generally absent from decision making that can have broad implications for both urban land management and human rights. As part of its ongoing effort to help community leaders and public officials in Latin America become more effective in implementing critical land management policies, the Lincoln Institute supported an innovative educational program in Quito, Ecuador, in October.
“Urban Land Policies for Popular Sectors” was cosponsored by the Institute, the Center for Investigations CIUDAD, and the Center for Research in Urbanism and Design at the School of Architecture of Catholic University in Quito. This pilot program served as a forum for more than 50 representatives of low-income communities throughout Ecuador who met for the first time. They discussed ambiguities surrounding the formulation and implementation of urban land policies, and the causes and impacts of these policies on the use and regulation of land. Particular attention was given to equitable access to land ownership, affordable housing and self-help construction on the urban periphery.
Ecuador’s Minister of Housing and Urban Development opened the first session, and a team of academics, professional policy advisors, local and national government authorities, and opinion leaders offered a number of strategic planning workshops and panel presentations. The forum included both conceptual and practical discussions on urban land legislation that recognized the noticeable lack of information on land policy at the grassroots level.
Many questions underscored the situation in Ecuador, where insecurity of land, home and person has often led to violence and evictions. This important issue served to highlight the primacy of human rights in the urban land debate, and to reinforce the urgent need to consider a broad range of public policies and planning mechanisms. In addition to encouraging organizational networks among the urban poor and partnerships with other local and national popular movement leaders, the forum explored strategies to build solidarity among the various sectors.
Mayors from other Latin American cities attended the final roundtable session and concluded that the forces affecting poor urban residents in Ecuador are strikingly similar throughout the region. One clear lesson is that access to information is needed to allow every individual and community to influence the formulation and implementation of urban land policies based on democratic participation. An inventory of comparative case studies of community-based land use practices will be incorporated into follow-up programs to assist public officials and administrators in future land use planning and policymaking.
This Quito forum is an example of the Lincoln Institute’s educational goal to provide better knowledge to citizens affected by urban land policies. One outcome is the “Document of Quito,” a summary of the strategies arrived at by consensus among the participants. The challenge of turning their consensus into action will be the true test of the pilot program. The Institute may also collaborate with the United Nations Program on Urban Management for Latin America and the Caribbean to develop a common agenda in education, research and publications. The results would help expand discussions of urban land issues at the grassroots level and improve the ways public officials and popular leaders can work together to generate more effective policies.
Sonia Pereira is a visiting fellow of the Lincoln Institute. An environmental lawyer, biologist, social psychologist and activist on behalf of human rights, she has been widely recognized for her work on environmental protection for low-income communities in Brazil. She is a Citizen of the World Laureate (World Peace University, 1992) and a Global 500 Laureate (United Nations Environment Programme-UNEP, 1996).
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Over the past several years, the Lincoln Institute has sponsored executive courses for state planning directors in the Northeast and in the West. In October 2002, more than 25 planning officials from 14 western states met in Portland, Oregon, to compare their experiences, learn from each other’s successes and failures, and receive briefings, lectures and case presentations. A featured panel discussion during that course addressed “The Role of Water in Managing Growth.” This article provides a brief review of alternative policy options to link land use and water supply, and offers some suggestions for further research, education and policy development.
During the summer of 2002, many Colorado communities imposed watering restrictions as historic drought gripped the state. Along Colorado’s Front Range, from Fort Collins to Colorado Springs, officials are now contemplating the possibility of adopting a coordinated program to help homeowners understand when they can, and cannot, water (Smith 2002). At the same time, Governor Bill Owens and other state officials hope to work with the Bush administration to harvest more trees in Colorado’s high-country in hopes of increasing water supply (Stein 2002). The basic idea behind this proposal, based on decades of study of state forests in Colorado, is that by removing around 40 percent of all trees in an area, the runoff from spring snowmelt can be increased significantly (Denver Post 2003). Such a proposal could change the face of Colorado for decades to come.
The situation in Colorado is symptomatic of urban areas throughout the Rocky Mountain West, one of the fastest growing regions in the country, and one of the driest. Finding sufficient water to meet the demands of burgeoning urban areas while also providing water for agricultural, commercial, recreational and environmental uses is one of the region’s most challenging land use issues.
But water is not a problem only in the West. Communities from Florida to Massachusetts experienced some form of water rationing during the summer drought in 2002 (Snyder 2002). Frederick, Maryland, for example, has experienced a water supply crisis due to rapid growth and bad planning. After imposing a ban on new development, city officials approved an ordinance in September 2002 that will limit developers’ access to water once Frederick moves beyond the immediate crisis and lifts the moratorium on construction. As further evidence of the growing need to link growth and land use with water supply, the Environmental Law Institute, the American Planning Association and other organizations cosponsored a conference in February 2003 titled Wet Growth: Should Water Law Control Land Use? It was cosponsored by and held at the Center for Land Resources at Chapman University School of Law in Orange, California.
Policy Options
Water and land are inseparable, yet the need to link growth with water supply in the process of making land use decisions appears to be a relatively recent phenomenon. A preliminary review suggests four prominent policy options to achieve this linkage.
Water Markets
In their 2001 report, Water and Growth in Colorado, researchers at the University of Colorado’s Natural Resources Law Center write, “. . . managing growth through water policy . . . is probably not an option worth considering.” Their conclusion is based, at least in part, on two observations: abundant water supplies in the city of Pueblo have not spurred growth there, and a lack of water has not restricted development in the nation’s fastest-growing region, Douglas County. The authors explain that a more compelling set of issues revolve around the impact of land use and growth on water resources. The increasing demand for municipal water use tends to deplete stream-flows and thereby degrade fisheries, recreational opportunities and other environmental values; increase water pollution; foster inter-state disputes; and increase the price of water. While these impacts are undeniable and create their own set of problems, they distract us from the question of whether, and to what degree, water supply can or should direct growth.
In the West, water is considered a private property right (Getches 1984). It can be separated from the land and may be bought and sold in the free market like any other commodity. In Colorado and other western states, it is common to hear people say, “water flows uphill toward money.” This means that water is reallocated to where it is most highly valued (or to those who can pay the most), as illustrated by the trans-boundary system that diverts water from the western slope of Colorado across the Continental Divide to the metropolitan areas along the eastern slope. Under this legal and institutional system, it is quite common to transfer water rights from agriculture, which accounts for about 75 percent of water use in the West, to ever-expanding urban areas.
Water markets thus facilitate growth by acquiring the water necessary for land use and urban development (Anderson and Leal 2001). But what if a community or region is interested in managing growth to sustain some open space, wildlife corridors, and sufficient water flows for fish, recreational and other environmental values? How can water availability, or more accurately the lack of water, direct growth and land use into more desirable areas, thereby reducing conflicts with other community goals?
Public Trust Doctrine
One way is to establish priorities for water use through the political process. Article II, Section 1, of Hawaii’s constitution states, “All public natural resources are held in trust by the State for the benefit of the people.” Article II, Section 7, says, “The State has an obligation to protect, control, and regulate the use of Hawaii’s water resources for the benefit of its people.” Section 7 goes on to say that the state’s water resources agency shall “establish criteria for water use priorities while assuring appurtenant rights and existing correlative and riparian uses …” Interpreting these constitutional provisions, the Hawaii State Water Code clarifies that the state has both the authority and duty to preserve the rights of present and future generations in the waters of the state, and the state has a duty to take the public trust into account in the planning and allocation of water resources.
Hawaii’s public trust doctrine is not uncommon; most western states have similar language in their constitutions (Sax 1993). Hawaii appears to be unique, however, in the degree to which it allocates water on the basis of the public trust doctrine. The state’s water code declares that water should not only be allocated to domestic, agricultural, commercial and industrial uses, but also to protect traditional and customary Hawaiian rights, maintain ecological balance and scenic beauty, provide for fish and wildlife, and offer opportunities for public recreation. To achieve these purposes, the Commission on Water Resource Management is responsible for developing a water plan that allocates water on the basis of “reasonable beneficial use,” and for regulating water development and use (Derrickson et al. 2002).
In 1997, the Commission issued water use permits for agricultural and other out-of-stream uses on the Waiahole Ditch water system. The decision was appealed to the Hawaii Supreme Court, which overturned the Commission decision and ruled that the public trust doctrine and the state’s water code provide that, at least in this case, in-stream public uses of water receive special consideration over off-stream private uses. This and similar applications of the public trust doctrine suggest that it is possible for appropriate jurisdictions to establish priorities for water use, and then to allow the market to reallocate water rights from one use to another consistent with the priorities established by law and the political process (Sax 1993).
“Prove-it” Policies
Rather than rely on water markets, a public trust doctrine, or some combination of the two, several jurisdictions around the country have crafted policies that specifically require a link between water availability and development. According to the ordinance adopted in Frederick, Maryland, city officials will review every proposed development and decide whether the city can provide the necessary water. Under the ordinance, 45 percent of surplus water will be allocated for new residential developments, 30 percent for commercial and industrial projects, and 25 percent for other uses, including government buildings and hospitals.
Other states have adopted similar policies that require developers to prove that they have adequate water supplies prior to approving development proposals. According to Charles Unseld, the director of Colorado’s Office of Smart Growth, several communities along Colorado’s Front Range are imposing such restrictions, at least on an ad hoc basis. In October 2001, California Governor Gray Davis signed Senate Bill 221, which requires developers of proposals for subdivisions of 500 units or more to prove they have water rights before they can receive final approval. While this requirement can be avoided by building smaller developments, it nevertheless represents an incremental step in directing growth according to the availability of water.
Perhaps the most sweeping policy framework linking water supply to growth is Arizona’s Groundwater Management Act. Groundwater sources supply roughly one-half of the total annual demand for water in Arizona (Jacobs and Holway, undated). Like most western states, agriculture accounts for about 70 percent of water use in Arizona, although this percent is slowly decreasing as municipal demand increases and the agricultural economy declines. In response to a growing concern over groundwater mining (that is, pumping and using groundwater at a rate faster than it can naturally replenish itself), the legislature passed the Groundwater Management Act (GMA) in 1980, and it was signed by then-Governor Bruce Babbitt.
The GMA created four “active management areas” (AMAs) around the state’s most populous areas: Phoenix, Pinal, Prescott and Tucson; a fifth AMA was created in Santa Cruz in 1993. The primary intent of the GMA is to sustain a long-term balance between the amount of groundwater withdrawn in each management area and the amount of natural and artificial recharge. This is accomplished through a combination of mandatory water conservation requirements and incentives to augment existing supplies. To help achieve the goal of “safe yield,” the GMA prevents new subdivisions from being approved in AMAs unless developers can prove that renewable water supplies are available for 100 years.
During a recent review of the GMA by a Governor’s Commission, water managers in Arizona concluded that the “assured water supply” program is responsible for much of the substantial progress that has been made in fast-growing municipalities to move away from groundwater overdraft toward renewable water supplies, including water from the Colorado River and reuse of effluent.
Another potential policy mechanism to link growth and land use to water supply is the use of urban growth boundaries (UGBs). The statutes that authorize UGBs in Oregon do not currently single out water availability as a variable for determining where the boundary should be located. However, Ethan Seltzer, director of the Institute of Portland Metropolitan Studies at Portland State University, has commented that it is not inconceivable to create a UGB within which developers would be required to prove that water is available for proposed growth.
Water and Land Management Strategies
In addition to asserting policies that explicitly link the availability of water supply to proposed development, there are other ways to meet the demand for more water to support development. Using existing water supplies more efficiently through conservation, xeriscaping and other water-saving measures can free up some water. Drought planning, water harvesting and the use of on-site gray-water systems can also help manage supply to meet demand. Groundwater development and the conjunctive use of surface water and groundwater may be appropriate for some communities. Small-scale and off-stream water storage, while potentially expensive and environmentally controversial, also could help some communities satisfy their thirst for growth.
Another option, mentioned earlier, is to increase water supply through timber harvesting and vegetation management. While some people debate the technical merits of this option, nearly everyone must question its political feasibility. During the past decade, conservation and environmental groups have consistently challenged timber harvesting practices on federal lands throughout the West, often tying-up much needed salvage logging and restoration projects for years in the courts.
The Search for a Land and Water Ethic
A recent issue of National Geographic reports, “Among the environmental specters confronting humanity in the 21st century—global warming, the destruction of rain forests, over-fishing of the oceans—a shortage of fresh water is at the top of the list …” (Montaigne 2002). In the face of what the World Bank refers to as the “grim arithmetic of water,” the author concludes that people around the world seem to emphasize two common approaches to this problem: efficient use of available water supplies, and a belief in using local solutions and free market incentives to emphasize conservation.
The relationship among water, growth and land use is a global problem that will be resolved most effectively at the local and regional level. While this article has reviewed several policy options, it is clear that there is much to be learned from other countries. More research, documentation and analysis of the effectiveness of alternative policies and practices are surely needed if the National Geographic story is correct: that limited water supplies are or will be the number-one environmental issue facing communities.
As we search for effective ways to integrate water, growth and land use, it is instructive to keep in mind the “land ethic” articulated by conservationist Aldo Leopold (1949, 224-225): “A thing is right when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability, and beauty of the biotic community. It is wrong when it tends otherwise.” The land ethic, according to Leopold, is based on the premise that the individual is a member of a community of interdependent parts. It provides moral direction on relationships between individuals and society and between humans and the biotic community, which includes soil, plants and animals, or collectively, land and water. This principle should inspire and guide us as we develop effective public policies to sustain communities and landscapes.
Matthew McKinney is director of the Montana Consensus Council, which is housed in the Office of the Governor in Helena, Montana. He is also a faculty associate of the Lincoln Institute, where he teaches courses on resolving land use disputes and regional collaboration, and coordinates the annual course for state planning directors in the West.
References
Anderson, Terry L. and Donald R. Leal. 2001. Free market environmentalism, rev. ed. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
Denver Post. 2003. Keep forest bill’s focus on fire (February 11).
Derrickson, S.A.K., et al. 2002. Watershed management and policy in Hawai’i: Coming full circle. American Water Resources Association 38(2).
Getches, David H. 1984. Water law in a nutshell. St. Paul, MN: West Publishing Co.
Jacobs, Katharine L. and James M. Holway. Undated. Managing for sustainability in Arizona: Lessons learned from 20 years of groundwater management. Unpublished manuscript available from the Arizona Department of Water Resources.
Leopold, Aldo. 1949. A Sand County almanac. New York: Oxford University Press.
Montaigne, Fen. 2002. Water pressure. National Geographic (September):9.
Sax, Joseph L.1993. Bringing an ecological perspective to natural resources: Fulfilling the promise of the public trust. In Natural resources law and policy: Trends and directions, Lawrence J. MacDonnell and Sarah F. Bates, eds. 148-161. Washington, DC: Island Press.
Smith, Jerd. 2002. Cities may equalize water rules. Rocky Mountain News (November 8): 11A.
Snyder, David. 2002. A new direction in water law: Frederick ordinance resembles western U.S. approach. Washington Post (September 23): B01.
Stein, Theo. 2002. A clear-cut drought solution? Logging urged to boost runoff, but eco-groups object. Denver Post (November 10): 1.
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The debate about the reality of global warming, and the human role in precipitating climate change, has been largely put to rest. Four working groups from the United Nations–sponsored Intergovernmental Panel of Climate Change (2007) have come to a consensus that would be gratifying if it were not so frightening. Yes, the globe is warming they say. Yes, humans are the primary agent for this change. Yes, the consequences may be dire. The Stern Review on the Economics of Climate Change (2007) was also released last year by the Treasury Department of the British Government, whose only task was to assess the financial implications of global warming. That report warned that the costs of correcting this problem were affordable in the short term, but if nothing was done soon, the coming global economic calamity would make the depression of the 1930s look like a period of great luxury.
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Canfei He earned his Ph.D. degree in geography from Arizona State University in 2001, and then moved to the University of Memphis, Tennessee, where he taught as an assistant professor. In August 2003, he returned to China as an associate professor in Peking University’s College of Urban and Environmental Sciences, and was promoted to full professor in 2009. In addition to his academic duties at Peking University, Dr. He has served as associate director of the Peking University–Lincoln Institute Center for Urban Development and Land Policy since 2007. He is also the associate director of the Economic Geography Specialty Group of the China Geographical Society.
Dr. He’s research interests include multinational corporations, industrial location and spatial clustering of firms, and energy and the environment in China. The World Bank invited him to write a background paper on industrial agglomeration in China for the World Development Report 2009: Reshaping Global Economic Geography.
Dr. He has authored four academic books and his work is published widely in English journals including Regional Studies, Urban Studies, Annals of Regional Science, International Migration Review, Eurasian Geography and Economics, Post-Communist Economies, and China & the World Economy. Dr. He also serves on the editorial board of three journals: Eurasian Geography and Economics, International Urban Planning, and China Regional Economics.
Land Lines: How did you become associated with the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy and its programs in China?
Canfei He: I learned about the activities of the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy’s recently established China Program from one of my colleagues at Peking University in 2003soon after I returned from the United States. At that time, the Lincoln Institute was working in China on a number of specific programs, and I became involved in several associated research projects.
My official relationship with the Institute began with the establishment of the Peking University–Lincoln Institute Center for Urban Development and Land Policy (PLC) in October 2007. The Institute had been exploring a more long-term partnership with Peking University for some time, and as those discussions progressed, my previous contacts offered opportunities for me to serve as a liaison between the two institutions. I was nominated by Peking University to serve as the associate director with its director, Joyce Yanyun Man, who is also a senior fellow of the Lincoln Institute and director of its Program on the People’s Republic of China. Over the past two years or more, I have been helping to develop the center and coordinate its work with other partners at Peking University, as well as serving as a research fellow of the center.
Land Lines: Why are urban development studies so important in China?
Canfei He: China’s urbanization during the past three decades has been remarkable. As an overwhelmingly rural population in 1978 when reforms began, China is now 45.7 percent urbanized, and the country is projected to be 60 percent urbanized by 2020. This means that China’s cities will need to accommodate more than 100 million new urban residents in this decade.
Market forces, local forces, and global forces are all conspiring to influence the pattern of China’s urbanization and development. Accompanying large-scale and rapid urbanization are revolutionary spatial, structural, industrial, institutional, and environmental changes in an incredibly brief span of time. The multiplicity of these driving forces makes the study of urban development in China both complex and challenging. The next wave of urbanization will have far-reaching implications for the country’s future development, and thus there is a critical need for more high-quality, objective research on the subject.
Land Lines: What are some of the most unusual aspects of urban development in China?
Canfei He: China’s current urban development is quite different institutionally from that of most Western countries. Urbanization in China has occurred at the same time that its economy has become market-oriented, globalized, and decentralized. Whereas most Western urbanization occurred in a period of greater economic isolation, China’s urban development has been directly influenced by international investment and global economic trends.
A second factor is China’s hukou system of personal registration that limits the mobility of its people in part by linking their access to social services to the location of their registration. This system thus presents an institutional barrier that inhibits rural-urban migration despite ongoing reforms.
Regional decentralization is another important aspect that, combined with the state and collective ownership of land, has allowed local governments to play a distinct role in China’s urban development. Land acquisition fees resulting from the sale of multi-decade leases for the use and development of state-owned lands have generated enormous revenues, and have been a critical source of municipal financial resources for urban infrastructure investment. This fee-based revenue, in turn, creates incentives that have promoted even more intense urbanization. On the other hand, the major planning role afforded to local governments in China means that urban planning practice lacks consistency across the country’s diverse regions, and is often hostage to local interest groups.
China is facing increasing global challenges and pressures from many sources including multinational corporations, nongovernmental organizations, global environmental standards, and rising energy prices. These challenges may increase the costs of urban development, but at the same time they may encourage a more sustainable process of urbanization.
Land Lines: How do you approach urban development studies in China through your own research?
Canfei He: China’s urbanization goes hand in hand with its industrialization, and foreign investment has played a significant role in the country’s growth. Urbanization demands labor, land, capital, and technology, as well as supporting institutions. Consequently, there are myriad approaches to studying urban development in China that focus on a particular factor or set of factors.
My own research interests fall within the capital and institutional approaches. Specifically, I investigate industrial agglomeration and foreign direct investment in Chinese cities by highlighting the institutional environment of economic transition. Investigating the elements driving industrial agglomeration in different cities and understanding the locational preferences of foreign and domestic firms are crucial for designing coherent and focused urban planning policies.
For instance, my research on foreign direct investment in real estate development and the locational preferences of international banks found that local market conditions and regional institutions largely determine the locational preferences of multinational services. This type of observation can be of use to planners and politicians in China seeking to foster the growth of the service industry.
With the increasing emphasis on global climate change and acknowledgement of the environmental impacts of China’s first 30 years of reform and development, I am also becoming more involved in research on the environmental impacts of urbanization, including energy consumption and carbon emissions. China has made a commitment to reduce its CO2 emission by 40–45 percent per unit of GDP by 2020, relative to 2005. This means that building low-carbon and energy-efficient cities is another goal on the already lengthy list of challenges that includes servicing, housing, and employing the country’s millions of future urban dwellers.
Land Lines: Given this ongoing international dialogue, how can China best learn from Western urbanization experiences?
Canfei He: We recognize that there is much to learn from the West, including alternative approaches to land policy, housing policy, transportation policy, environmental policy, suburbanization, and the development and planning of megacity regions. China has the benefit of using the West’s experience as a roadmap to help it avoid many of the problems that have arisen in Western cities, such as urban sprawl and gridlock. That economic, political, and geographic diversity offers a wealth of reference points for China’s cities that should not be ignored and can help China avoid problems that have plagued many Western metropolises.
However, it is necessary to research the applicability of particular international experiences, considering the uniqueness of China’s history and culture. Too often analyses of Western urbanization are presented as a blueprint for China, when in fact institutional, economic, and political differences mean that, for one reason or another, those solutions are impractical or unfeasible.
Land Lines: Why is China’s urbanization and urban development so important to the West?
Canfei He: China’s urbanization will be one of the most important dynamics of the twenty-first century, not only for China but also for the West and the rest of the world. Millions of newly affluent consumers and empowered global citizens will exert significant new demands on the world’s finite natural resources in several ways.
First, with the United Nations Millennium Development Goals, China and the world committed themselves to halving the number of people living on less than $1 per day by 2015. Given China’s large number of rural poor, the country’s urbanization and economic development will be instrumental in meeting this important goal, as well as in achieving other goals such as those related to education and improving children’s health. Only cities have the institutional reach and financial capacity to meet these goals on a large scale.
Second, much has been made of the gulf in understanding between China and the West in recent years. Urbanization and urban development will help to integrate China further into the global community, but it may also create more opportunities for cultural friction. The West has a vested interest in seeing that China urbanizes in an atmosphere that encourages openness and intercultural exchange.
Third, history demonstrates that urbanization entails a much greater demand for energy and other resources as living standards rise and as consumption and dietary patterns change. It has become a cliché to say that “as China goes, so goes the world,” but China’s urbanization and its related environmental impacts will have direct implications for the West and the rest of the world.
The recent memory of $150 per barrel of oil shows that this future demand is likely to put great stress on international energy markets and the global economy. This latent demand also has broad implications for China’s CO2 emissions and for global climate change. The United States and China are key to any real hope of keeping the increase in average global temperatures less than 2 degrees Celsius warmer than preindustrial levels, as proposed at the recent climate conference in Copenhagen. Whereas the high level of development in Western countries means that changes happen incrementally, China’s rapid urbanization offers hope to limit the world’s future emissions by making significant changes now as the country develops.
