It’s a Thursday afternoon in Cincinnati, and people at the downtown public library are making stuff. In the corner, a $14,410 Full Spectrum laser cutter and engraver hums away, used to create anything from artworks to humble coasters out of paper, wood, and acrylic. Over by the windows, a MakerBot replicator is buzzing; it’s one of the library’s four 3-D printers, used to fabricate a range of objects, from toys to a custom bike pedal compatible with shoes designed for a patron with a physical disability. Nearby, a young designer is producing a full-color vinyl sign with a professional-grade Roland VersaCAMM VS-300i large-format printer and cutter. “This is our workhouse,” my tour guide Ella Mulford, the library’s TechCenter/MakerSpace team leader, says of the $17,769 machine. Most of us couldn’t afford such a pricey piece of equipment, but apparently plenty of Cincinnatians can think of useful things to do with it: it runs practically nonstop during library hours, Mulford explains, and is usually booked out for two weeks in advance. 

The Public Library of Cincinnati and Hamilton County still offers plenty of books and other media for borrowing and browsing. But its roomy MakerSpace section, opened at the start of 2015 and packed with free-to-use tech tools, is an impressive example of how the library idea is adjusting to a digital era that has not always been kind to books. More to the point, it hints at an evolving role for libraries in cities large and small—contributing in new ways to the municipal fabric they have long been a part of. 

In Cincinnati, the process that led to the MakerSpace started a couple of years ago, says Kimber L. Fender, the library’s director. A smattering of libraries across the country were experimenting with technology as a new component of what they might offer the public. “And part of our strategic plan,” Fender continues, “was to introduce new technologies to our community. So we were actively exploring: What does that mean when we say that? What does it look like?” Adding a 3-D printer to the library’s existing computer center served as a low-risk experiment—and attracted the attention of every TV station in town. “There was just all this conversation,” Fender recalls. “So we thought, ‘Hm, this is getting us toward our goal.’” 

Enrique R. Silva, research fellow and senior research associate at the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy, points out that there’s no real reason to yoke the fate of the library as civic infrastructure to the fate of the physical book. “It’s a community space for learning,” he suggests. A 2015 Pew Research Center study indicates that the public agrees: While it found signs that Americans have visited libraries somewhat less frequently in recent years, it also concludes that many embrace the idea of new educational offerings in this specific context—tech included. “It’s not a difficult leap to make,” Silva says.  

Indeed, making that leap both extends and updates the role that libraries have long played in many U.S. city and town plans. One of the breakthrough developments in that history was the explosion of such institutions funded by Andrew Carnegie in the decades before and after the turn of the 20th century. Fanning out from Pennsylvania, nearly 1,700 so-called Carnegie Libraries were built in Beaux-Arts, Italian Renaissance, or other classic styles—an effort that both played into and fueled an even wider library-building movement that placed significant landmarks in municipal centers from coast to coast. While remarkable, this ubiquitous element of civic infrastructure often goes overlooked today. 

“In modern-day planning,” Silva observes, “I think libraries are largely seen as: You’re lucky if you have it as an asset, part of the bones of a city that you work around.” In the United States, at least, architecturally significant new library construction is rare (the Seattle Public Library Central Library, opened in 2004 and designed by Rem Koolhaas and Joshua Prince-Ramus, is a notable exception). So libraries tend to be planned around, as an “inherited” element of “social-civic infrastructure,” as Silva puts it. A 2013 report from the Center for an Urban Future, focused on New York City, argued that libraries have been “undervalued” in most “policy and planning discussions about the future of the city.”

But maybe this oversight implies an opportunity: These existing structures can take on fresh roles that make them newly relevant to ever-evolving municipal plans. The Cincinnati library’s rethink of what it means to be a community center of learning and information-sharing is one example. As with the Carnegie Libraries, smart use of philanthropic resources played a role: Fender says the library had a $150,000 discretionary bequest that it decided to direct to the MakerSpace. To make room, it reorganized its periodicals collection. 

The library then took an adventurous view of what kind of technologies it could offer. There’s a mini recording studio with pro-quality microphones, used by aspiring podcasters and DJs; photography and video equipment; and a popular “media conversion station” for digitizing VHS tapes and the like. There are also more analog offerings such as sewing machines and a surprisingly popular set of button-making machines. During my tour, I met a charming man named Donny—well known to the library staff—making football-themed buttons. “What’s the word, ‘entrepreneur’? That’s what they tell me I am,” he explained. 

Turns out lots of entrepreneurial types, from aspiring startup-founders to Etsy sellers, make use of the library’s offerings. There are collaborative computer workstations, connected by Wi-Fi and used by everyone from designers working with clients to students teaming up on class projects. 

And there’s a broader trend here. The Chattanooga Public Library has converted what used to be the equivalent of attic space into a maker center and public tech lab called 4th Floor, regularly hosting related public events. The Sacramento Public Library’s “Library of Things” allows people to check out GoPro cameras and tablet devices, among other tech tools. Other experiments abound from Boston to St. Louis to Washington, DC, to Chicago: according to one survey, more than 100 libraries had added some variety of makerspace as of 2014; another report said more than 250 have at least a 3-D printer available.

And the progressive thinking and creativity of libraries align with the goals of many planners: maintaining and exploiting community touch-points, often embedded deep into crucially central public spaces, and expanding the range of citizens drawn to them. Interestingly, some urban thinkers have begun to explore the potential of makerspaces arising either from the private sector or the grass roots as a component of “a new civic infrastructure.” Perhaps libraries like Cincinnati’s are already building that. 

One challenge, Fender says, is the lack of widely accepted metrics for gauging the impact on a given institution—or, by extension, its civic environment. So Cincinnati has been keeping its own numbers: in September 2015, the MakerSpace took 1,592 equipment reservations, including 92 for the MakerBot, 157 for the laser engraver, and 298 for the vinyl printer. All reflect steady or growing interest. (Thus the MakerSpace collection is growing, with the addition of an Espresso Book Machine that prints volumes on demand.) 

“The MakerSpace reminds people the library is there,” Fender says, “but it also causes them to look at it in a different way and say: ‘Oh, they’re thinking about the future, about what the community needs are, and how they can provide something more than the books on the shelf.’” 

Rob Walker (robwalker.net) is a contributor to Design Observer and The New York Times.

Photograph credit: The Public Library of Cincinnati and Hamilton County

For years, it looked like the next big thing in public transportation for the suburban city of Altamonte Springs, Florida, would be an innovative program called FlexBus. Instead of running on fixed routes, buses would respond to demand from kiosks located at specific activity centers. It was, city manager Frank Martz says, “the first demand-response transportation project ever developed in the United States.” Some even referred to it as an “Uber for transit.”

Unfortunately, it didn’t work out. The regional bus operator administering the plan lost key federal funding, and Altamonte Springs had to look for a new solution. “Rather than be mad,” Martz continues, “We decided to solve the problem. We still needed to serve our residents.” 

This time, officials went with Uber itself. This past spring, the Orlando suburb announced a straightforward partnership with the ride-sharing firm, subsidizing citizens who opted to use that service instead of their own cars—particularly for trips to regional rail stations that connect population centers around Seminole County. The pilot has proven popular enough that several municipalities in the area have already launched similar programs. 

Most of what we hear about the relationship between municipalities and ride-sharing startups involves contention. Right around the time Altamonte Springs started this pilot program, a standoff over regulatory details in Austin, Texas, led both Uber and its chief rival Lyft to stop doing business in the city. But Altamonte Springs is an example of how some cities, planners, and scholars are trying to find opportunities within the rise of ride-sharing’s prominence and popularity. MIT’s Senseable City Lab has worked with Uber; UC Berkeley’s Transportation Sustainability Research Center and others have been diving into ride-sharing data with an eye toward public-transportation impacts. And this past March, the American Public Transportation Association released a study assessing how new services can complement more familiar forms of “shared mobility,” and suggested ways that agencies can “promote useful cooperation between public and private mobility providers.” 

“What it’s going to boil down to is how this new system interacts with the existing, traditional system,” says Daniel Rodriguez, a Lincoln Institute fellow who teaches planning at University of North Carolina and has studied transportation innovation in Latin America and the United States. He expects more experiments as cities work to figure out how “to get Uber users to complement the existing infrastructure.” 

That almost exactly describes one of the prime motivations for Altamonte Springs’ Uber pilot: the service was, Martz points out, an existing option that required none of the time-and-money commitments associated with a typical transportation initiative. “The focus could not and should not be on infrastructure,” he said. “It needed to be on human behavior.” In other words, ride-sharing services already respond to demand that has been demonstrated by the market, so how could the city hitch a ride on that trend? 

The answer was to offer local users a subsidy: the city would pay 20 percent of the cost of any local ride, and 25 percent for rides to or from Sun Rail stations, the region’s commuter-rail system. Riders simply enter a code that works in concert with Uber’s “geofencing” technology to confirm location eligibility; their fee is lowered accordingly, and the city seamlessly makes up the difference. “It’s all about user convenience,” Martz says. But he’s getting at a bigger point than ease of payment. Instead of building systems that citizens respond to, maybe it’s worth trying a system that responds to where citizens actually are—and adjusts in real time as that changes. 

Whether this works out in the long run remains to be seen, but as an experiment the risks are pretty low. Martz has estimated the annual cost to the city at about $100,000—compared to $1.5 million for the earlier FlexBus plan. While the pilot is just a few months old, he says local Uber use has risen tenfold—which is why neighboring municipalities Longwood, Lake Mary, Sanford, and Maitland have all joined in or announced plans to do so. (“We’re creating a working group among our cities,” Martz adds, with a focus on managing traffic congestion and “how to connect our cities.”) 

As Rodriguez points out, the land-use implications alone, both short- and long-term, are compelling. On the day-to-day level, affordable ride-sharing as an option for, say, doctor visits or school appointments or similar errands lowers demand for parking spaces. On a higher level, it leverages options that already exist instead of devising more land-intensive projects that can take years to plan and complete.

In a sense, the experiment fits into a broader trend of seeking ad-hoc transportation innovations. Rodriguez has studied experiments from home-grown bus systems to aerial trams in Latin America that supplemented existing systems rather than building new ones. And while at first blush the concept of partnering with a ride-sharing service sounds like something that would work only in a smaller municipality that lacks a realistic mass-transit-system option, he points out that it could actually play a role in bigger cities. One example: Sao Paulo, Brazil, which offers what The Atlantic’s CityLab has called “the best plan yet for dealing with Uber”—essentially auctioning off credits, available to both existing taxi services and ride-sharing upstarts, to drive a certain number of miles in a set time period. The regulatory details (devised in part by former Lincoln fellow Ciro Biderman) aim to give the city options, while capturing and exploiting market demand rather than trying to shape it. 

That captures Martz’s broader attitude. “Why,” he asks, “should the public sector focus on infrastructure embraced by people who used it 40 years ago?” While he readily notes that this line of policy thinking is very much in step with the pro-free-enterprise attitudes in “a very Republican county,” he also insists that local political support for the plan crossed party lines. And more significantly, he stresses that this solution leaves the city much more easily positioned to adjust as technology changes. Carpooling scenarios seem like one logical possibility. And Uber and other technology companies are known to be working on driverless-car scenarios that could prove even more efficient. Martz doesn’t quite come out and say this, but if Uber gets “disrupted” by some more efficient solution, striking up a new partnership would be a lot easier than a do-over on a multiyear region-wide project. “Let market forces carry the day,” Martz says. 

Of course, as Rodriguez notes, all of this remains very experimental at this stage—and a full-on embrace of ride-sharing carries potential downsides. It obviously remains car-centric and not necessarily affordable to broad swaths of many city populations, even with the 20 percent discount. The ability to travel longer distances for lower costs has been a major factor in city sprawl. “This could be another step in that direction,” he observes. 

But the combination of uncertainty and potential is exactly why it’s worth attending to efforts that embrace ride-sharing upstarts instead of fighting them. “There’s no correct answer right now; it’s still an exploration,” Rodriguez cautions. But the likes of Uber do offer one attribute that’s hard to deny for those willing to experiment, he adds: “It’s tangible, and you know it works.” 

Rob Walker (robwalker.net) is a contributor to Design Observer and The New York Times.

In his 1937 essay “What is a City?,” Lewis Mumford described an evolutionary process through which the “badly organized mass city” would evolve into a new type of “poly-nucleated” city, “adequately spaced and bounded”: 

“Twenty such cities, in a region whose environment and whose resources were adequately planned, would have all the benefits of a metropolis that held a million people, without its ponderous disabilities: its capital frozen into unprofitable utilities, and its land values congealed at levels that stand in the way of effective adaptation to new needs.”

For Mumford, such cities, designed with strong public participation, would become the nuclei of new poly-nucleated metropolitan regions that result in:

“A more comprehensive life for the region, for this geographic area can, only now, for the first time be treated as an instantaneous whole for all the functions of social existence. Instead of trusting to the mere massing of populations to produce the necessary social concentration and social drama, we must now seek these results through deliberate local nucleation and a finer regional articulation.”

Unfortunately, since Mumford wrote these words, we have not achieved poly-nucleated cities or regions. Nor have we advanced a theory of urban evolution. Urban theorists have described cities, used basic pattern recognition to detect relationships among the potential components of urban evolution, or offered narrow prescriptions to fix one urban challenge while generating inevitable unintended consequences that pose new challenges. This is because we have never developed a real science of cities. 

For more than a century, planners, sociologists, historians, and economists have theorized about cities and their evolution by categorizing them, as noted by Laura Bliss in a well-documented 2014 CityLab article about the likelihood of an emerging evolutionary theory of cities. They generated multiple typologies of cities, from functional classifications to rudimentary taxonomies (see Harris, 1943, Functional Classification of Cities in the United StatesAtlas of Urban ExpansionAtlas of Cities). But they based these classifications on arbitrarily chosen categories and did little to inform our understanding of how cities became what they are or to presage what they might become. 

Even Jane Jacobs, in a foreword to her 1961 book, The Death and Life of Great American Cities, called for the development of an ecology of cities—a scientific exploration of the forces that shape cities—but provided only narrative accounts of what defined great cities, mostly with regard to design, as part of her ongoing assault on the orthodox planning profession. In some of her later work, Jacobs set out principles to define great cities, based mostly on form, but she never provided a framework to improve the science of urban theory.

Modern urban theory is plagued by several shortcomings. It is not analytic. It fails to provide a framework for generating hypotheses and the empirical analysis to test those theories. And the research, in general, focuses on big iconic cities, rather than a representative global selection of urban settlements that captures the differences between big and small cities, primary and secondary cities, industrial and commercial cities. Importantly, the research provides little guidance regarding how we might intervene to improve our future cities to support sustainable human habitation on the planet. 

The New Urban Agenda—to be announced in October at the third UN-Habitat conference, in Quito, Ecuador—will present consensual global objectives for sustainable urbanization. These objectives provide guidance for United Nations member states as they prepare for the gargantuan task of welcoming 2.5 billion new urbanites to the world’s cities over the next thirty years—culminating the 250-year process through which human settlement moved from almost entirely rural and agrarian to predominantly urban contexts. But before we attempt to implement the New Urban Agenda, we must confront the serious limitations in our understanding of cities and urban evolution. A new “science of cities” would buttress our efforts to get this last stage of urbanization right.

I do not intend to present a new science of cities in this message. Instead, I will suggest a way to frame one that borrows from evolutionary theory. The evolution of species is driven by four main forces, and it seems reasonable that corollary forces help to shape the evolution of cities. These forces are: natural selection, gene flow, mutation, and random drift. And they play out in predictable ways that shape cities—where city growth replaces reproductive success as an indicator of evolutionary success.

Natural selection is a process of impulse and response. It relates to how a city responds to changing external factors (impulses) that support or inhibit success. Impulses can be economic, environmental, or political, but they are, importantly, outside the control of the city. Economic restructuring, for example, might select against cities that depend on manufacturing, have inflexibly trained workforces, or extract or produce single commodities that face changes in demand in global markets. Climate change and sea-level rise will inhibit the success of coastal cities or those exposed to severe weather events. Political impulses might include regime changes, social uprisings, or war. Or they might be something as seemingly minor as a change in allocation formulae for national revenues. Every impulse will benefit some cities and harm others. A city’s ability to respond to different impulses might be a measure of its resilience, which is directly influenced by the three other evolutionary forces. 

Migration (gene flow) helps to diversify the economic, social, and age structures of cities through the exchange of people, resources, and technologies. Presumably, the in-migration of people, capital, and new technology improves a city’s ability to respond to external impulses. Out-migration, in general, would reduce this ability. 

Mutation, for cities, is an unpredictable change in technology or practice occurring within a city. It might be shorthanded as innovation or disruption. 

Random drift involves longer-term changes in cities that result from cultural or behavioral shifts. These might include decisions to maintain or preserve long-term assets, real or cultural. Drift describes the unpredictable ways that cities might change their character. 

As noted, I do not want to lay out a new theory of urban evolution here. I merely want to recommend this direction in order to invigorate our thinking around urban change more rigorously and systematically. A significant amount of work has already gone into quantifying elements of this framework. Risk theorists and insurers have quantified many of the external impulses that challenge cities. Demographers and population theorists have studied human migration, and macroeconomists have studied capital flows. A lot of attention has been paid to innovation and disruption in the last couple of decades. Random drift is a little less studied. But, as Bliss points out, big data and new technologies might help us to detect longer-terms drift. In any case, a larger framework that weaves these disparate areas of work together would advance our understanding of urban evolution. 

On a cautionary note, while an evolutionary theory of cities would be a signal advancement of urban theory, it is useful to remember that, unlike evolution, which is a mostly passive process—species enduring the external forces that act on them—cities, in theory at least, are driven by more purposive behavior: planning. But planners need better tools to drive their practices and to test their approaches. If we are to successfully implement the New Urban Agenda, a toolkit based on evolutionary science would be hugely helpful. As Mumford concluded in his 1937 essay:

“To embody these new possibilities in city life, which come to us not merely through better technical organization but through acuter sociological understanding, and to dramatize the activities themselves in appropriate individual and urban structures, forms the task of the coming generation.”

We at the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy stand ready to support coming generations in comprehensive and scientific analysis of urban evolution and the important role that effective land policies can play in driving it. Our urban future depends on it.

After Karin Brandt finished her Master’s degree at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, she noticed some frustration among her former classmates in planning. “The idea of creating change that we talked about in grad school wasn’t being realized,” she recalls. One of the reasons was that the process of engaging with the broader public often proved to be a challenge.

Meanwhile, she continues, friends from other MIT departments were “starting companies, solving problems, doing really interesting things” with technology. Perhaps, she concluded, there was a useful overlap in these two divergent trends. Maybe innovative technology could be used to improve some public-facing elements of the planning process. So in 2013, after leaving a position as a research analyst at the Lincoln Institute, Brandt founded coUrbanize along with data scientist and fellow MIT grad David Quinn. The venture-backed startup offers a planning-centric communications platform, designed to ease and enhance the way that planners, developers, and the public interact around specific projects.

The underlying challenge here was, of course, familiar to anyone involved in the profession. “The traditional planning meeting, with the microphone, and the signup list, and three minutes per speaker, is important,” says Amy Cotter, a veteran of Boston’s Metropolitan-Area Planning Council who is now manager of urban development programs at the Lincoln Institute. “But it’s of limited value.” In short, only some members of a community have the time or inclination to participate in such forums—resulting in a limited perspective on what a community really thinks about a development or planning initiative, leaving potentially useful feedback and input unexpressed.

In the past, some treated this step of the planning process as “a more technical exercise” that privileged expert data over community input, Cotter continues. “But the planning field has been undergoing a transition. At this point, most planners feel their plans are richer and better if people are engaged.” But securing that engagement is easier said than done.

Ken Snyder, founder and CEO of the Denver-based nonprofit PlaceMatters, observes that, over the past five or ten years, there has been a growing movement around innovation that increases community engagement, and it very much includes new technologies. Urban Interactive Studio’s EngagingPlans platform is one example. Another is CrowdGauge.org—developed by Sasaki Associates and PlaceMatters. The latter is an “open-source, web-based tool for creating educational online games” that can help “summarize, communicate, and rank ideas that emerge from visioning processes and incorporate them into decision making.” (Snyder has compiled an informal but highly useful list of creative planning tools and initiatives at bit.ly/placematters-tools.)

Brandt says her own research led her to conclude that the three major actors in most projects—planners, developers, and the community at large—really all sought the same thing: more transparency from the other two parties. In other words, as much as planners wanted more public input, citizens often felt they weren’t getting enough information in a truly accessible form.

CoUrbanize was developed with direct input from planners and developers, and the platform provides a central online home for public information on any given project. That means it serves as both a forum for community feedback, and as a spot where plans and proposals are widely accessible. And importantly: This aims to be a flexible touchpoint that supplements, but does not mean to replace, real-world feedback mechanisms, both traditional and otherwise.

One of the most interesting examples so far has involved the Kendall Square Urban Renewal Plan in Cambridge, Massachusetts. The Cambridge Redevelopment Authority and developer Boston Properties are collaborating on a public/private effort that will entail a million square feet of new commercial and residential development. Working with coUrbanize, the developer distributed poster-style signage asking real-world users of the relevant space for thoughts on its potential uses. This meant anyone could text in their answers, which were collected in an online coUrbanize community forum.

“People have much more interesting ideas when they’re in a physical space,” Brandt says. “And most people don’t know what they can say. So prompting them with specific questions really helps.” The exercise drew more than 200 comments, plus additional data from forum users supporting or disagreeing with those comments. The planning and development team “made changes to their plan, based on feedback,” Brandt says—including the addition of more substantial affordable housing, and the inclusion of “innovation space” that offered below-market rates to qualified startups. Work on some of the ideas for open space that evolved on the platform will be underway soon, she adds.

The key here from a planning perspective is to broaden the range of input. Maybe that means hearing an idea that would never have surfaced in a traditional community meeting. But arguably more important is a clearer sense of what “the community” around a particular project—not just the people who turn up at a public meeting—really wants, supports, or objects to.

Cotter points out—and Brandt emphatically agrees—that those in-person hearings still matter. But a platform like coUrbanize provides a forum for people who can’t (or just don’t want to) show up for such gatherings: a worker with a night shift, parents who need to be home during a scheduled meeting, or millennials who just find the online context easier and more convenient. “One of our clients,” Brandt says, “calls us a 24-hour community meeting.” (Notably, coUrbanize includes “community guidelines” that require citizen-users to register with their real names, which has minimized the planning-feedback equivalent of spam. “We hear from our municipal partners that the feedback they get on coUrbanize is often a lot more on point,” Brandt says.)

To make the most of this accessibility, cities or developers using coUrbanize or any such platform must give some fresh thought to how they present their ideas. As Cotter notes, even basic terms like “setback” or “density” may mean little to a layperson. (As a prompt for community feedback, PlaceMatters has used such creative means as a “pop-up” installation to demonstrate the benefits of a protected bike lane in Portland, Oregon, in real, physical space.) CoUrbanize offers planners and developers an intuitive template for presenting ideas in both images and words—almost like a Kickstarter campaign’s home page.

Of course, it’s really up to users to make the most of the platform. And because the coUrbanize business model depends in part on developers signing on, Brandt emphasizes that this sort of platform can more quickly and efficiently reveal problems that under normal circumstances could have led to costly project delays. Most of the firm’s early clients and projects are concentrated in Massachusetts, but it has also worked with others in Atlanta and elsewhere who have sought out coUrbanize. This year, the firm will expand its focus to New York and San Francisco.

The ideal is a “win win win,” as Brandt puts it—benefiting all players. Certainly, the potential payoff for actual community members—users of coUrbanize, but also of other efforts to broaden the planning process with technological tools—is particularly intriguing. And, as Cotter says, that is something planners have sought for years, and it’s becoming more plausible as technologies improve. The key, she says, is to “give people the confidence that they’ve been heard, and that their input will be considered.” Even if that input isn’t followed, it should be made clear what tradeoffs were involved and why.

“So many people don’t know that they can shape their neighborhoods,” Brandt says. “They don’t know what planning is, and they’ve never been to a meeting.” Maybe the current wave of tech-driven platforms can help change that: “A lot more people are online,” Brandt argues, “than those who are available at 7 o’clock on Tuesday night.”

Rob Walker (robwalker.net) is a contributor to Design Observer and The New York Times.

Photograph: Karin Brandt

Entre los escarpados picos de las montañas de San Juan, en el cuadrante noreste de la frontera regional de Four Corners, hay un grupo de cinco condados en el sudoeste de Colorado cuyos nombres evocan la historia rica y diversa de la región: Montezuma, San Juan, La Plata, Dolores, y Archuleta.

También es diversa la manera de vivir y la economía de la región, desde el turismo y la agricultura hasta la extracción de combustibles fósiles. Menos de 100.000 personas habitan esta heterogénea y montañosa región. Las ciudades de Durango y Cortez representan un poco de vida semiurbana relativamente bulliciosa, pero el resto de esta zona de 17.000 km2, aproximadamente el tamaño del estado de Connecticut, está salpicada por pequeños pueblos de montaña y dos reservas indígenas.

En estas comunidades remotas, la planificación del futuro se ha hecho mucho más incierta en el siglo XXI, ya que el comodín del cambio climático y el comportamiento caprichoso de la industria energética han reducido las apuestas seguras. Desde muchos puntos de vista, es cada vez más difícil hacer pronósticos fundamentados sobre las décadas futuras, desde los precios e ingresos impredecibles de la industria del gas natural hasta las bruscas variaciones en la acumulación de nieve, que afectan por igual al caudal de los ríos, las cosechas y la temporada de esquí. Y muchas variables están fuertemente interconectadas.

“Nuestra pregunta más importante tiene que ver con la vulnerabilidad a la sequía”, dice Dick White, concejal de Durango. “Nuestra agricultura y el turismo podrían quedar completamente trastornados si llega a suceder una sequía prolongada, con muchos incendios naturales”.

Reconociendo la necesidad de una mayor coordinación política, un grupo regional de entidades gubernamentales formó el Consejo de Gobiernos del Sudoeste de Colorado a fines de 2009 para hacer frente a los desafíos más importantes y buscar oportunidades de colaboración. Sin embargo, no ha quedado claramente definida en términos políticos la hoja de ruta para lograr estabilidad, sostenibilidad y prosperidad económica.

Los interrogantes podrían simplemente superar el alcance de las herramientas de planificación convencionales, dicen los observadores. La disciplina de planificación regional, por supuesto, se ha ejercido desde hace muchas décadas, pero los procedimientos, plantillas y modelos empleados, desde los métodos “visionistas” a los “normativos”, “predictivos” o de “líneas de tendencia”, no siempre permiten luchar contra las incertidumbres irreductibles. Por eso, el Consejo del Sudoeste de Colorado se embarcó el año pasado en un proceso de asociación intensiva con Western Lands and Communities, un programa conjunto del Sonoran Institute y el Instituto Lincoln de Políticas de Suelo, para desarrollar una herramienta de política emergente que incorpore la propia idea de incertidumbre: la Planificación Exploratoria de Escenarios (Exploratory Scenario Planning o XSP). A diferencia de los procesos de planificación normativos o tradicionales, este no trata de lo preferible (una expresión de valores comunitarios) sino de lo que podría ocurrir más allá del control de los planificadores involucrados.

XSP requiere que los participantes identifiquen las fuentes más importantes de incertidumbre en su comunidad y que usen estos desafíos para imaginar escenarios alternativos para el futuro. Mientras que las formas más tradicionales de planificación de escenarios normalmente llegan a considerar sólo de dos a cuatro escenarios, el Consejo del Sudoeste de Colorado creó ocho escenarios durante sus sesiones de XSP.

A comienzos de 2015, consultores, expertos y gestores de políticas regionales se reunieron en la ciudad de Durango para despejar una cuestión fundamental para la generación de escenarios relevantes: “Dada la posibilidad de una sequía prolongada en el tiempo y su impacto ambiental potencial, ¿cómo podría la región de estos cinco condados desarrollar una economía más versátil?”

Esta pregunta, que el grupo consideró mediante un metódico proceso comunitario, fue el foco de un extenso proceso de recopilación y análisis de datos. Esta investigación culminó en dos talleres estructurados para explorar una variedad de “futuros” regionales, es decir, las maneras posibles y verosímiles en que podría desarrollarse la vida en el sudoeste de Colorado. El horizonte temporal se fijó en 25 años, es decir, hasta el año 2040.

Los participantes consideraron los impactos interrelacionados de varias áreas críticas de incertidumbre, como la duración de una sequía potencial, los niveles locales de producción de gas natural y el precio del petróleo.

La idea central subyacente de la metodología de XSP es reunir a las partes interesadas para generar un proceso de planificación de múltiples pasos que imagine muchos futuros y formule las conclusiones estratégicas correspondientes. Sus pasos metodológicos son básicamente los siguientes: primero, formular una serie de preguntas centrales; después, identificar y clasificar de forma precisa las fuerzas del cambio; a continuación, crear narrativas sobre los posibles escenarios y sus implicaciones; y finalmente formular respuestas activas y discernir las acciones que se podrían utilizar para responder a estos múltiples escenarios. Este proceso, dice Miriam Gillow-Wiles, directora ejecutiva del Consejo de Gobiernos del Sudoeste de Colorado, creó una nueva manera de ayudar a planificadores y gestores de políticas a imaginar las dinámicas regionales. “Creo que con esto el consejo de gobiernos ya no es simplemente otra organización gubernamental o de desarrollo económico más, porque estamos haciendo algo distinto”, dice.

El proyecto fue otro paso del Sonoran Institute y el Instituto Lincoln para ajustar el concepto y en última instancia demostrar el valor de la planificación exploratoria de escenarios (que tiene sus raíces en la administración de empresas y la esfera militar) en el contexto de la planificación urbana y regional. Se han explorado otros estudios de caso recientes en Arizona central, la Cuenca Superior del río Verde y el pueblo de Sahuarita, justo al sur de Tucson, Arizona.

“Esto es algo que no sólo es una buena idea desde el punto de vista intelectual”, dice Peter Pollock, gerente de Western Programs en el Instituto Lincoln. “Agregará un valor real al proceso de planificación comunitaria para tratar con problemas reales”.

Una gama de futuros

En el sudoeste de Colorado hay que lidiar con problemas reales y realmente difíciles, ya que la región enfrenta una serie desalentadora de cambios simultáneos, según un informe de 2015 titulado “Motores de cambio en el Oeste Intermontañas” (Driving Forces of Change in the Intermountain West), preparado como parte del proceso de planificación exploratoria de escenarios. Algunos son demográficos: el influjo de la población, con un mayor porcentaje de la población hispana, combinado con la urbanización. Otros tienen que ver con la naturaleza “incierta y compleja” de las industrias de energía, afectadas por los patrones volátiles de la economía mundial.

El Concejal White de Durango City dice que él y sus colegas dirigentes han tenido que reflexionar mucho sobre estos cambios a medida que la ciudad considera una variedad de proyectos de infraestructura, desde ampliar el sistema de tratamiento de aguas servidas hasta aumentar el tamaño del aeropuerto. White, exprofesor de astronomía de Smith College que se jubiló temprano y se mudó al Oeste para involucrarse en políticas medioambientales, fue un miembro clave del grupo que se reunió en Durango el año pasado como parte del Consejo de Gobiernos del Sudoeste de Colorado.

“Uno se enfrenta a esta amplia gama de futuros posibles, y no sabe realmente qué camino tomar”, dice. “La idea es identificar los riesgos mayores y las mejores políticas de las que no tengamos que arrepentirnos”.

Para White, el ejercicio de imaginarse cómo las distintas condiciones de sequía podrían afectar toda la economía regional ayudó a aclarar los temas. “Conceptualmente, creo que esta es una herramienta política extraordinariamente útil”, dice. Las cuestiones de la red de alcantarillado y la infraestructura del aeropuerto se pudieron analizar posteriormente desde una nueva perspectiva: “Hemos podido analizar estas dos decisiones a través de la lente de la planificación [exploratoria] de escenarios”. Dadas las incertidumbres sobre el futuro, White dice estar decidido a hacer inversiones que proporcionen flexibilidad a los gestores de políticas del futuro, en caso que necesiten realizar más cambios en la infraestructura.

Las acciones y estrategias finales de “bajo nivel de arrepentimiento” identificadas por las partes interesadas fueron: mejorar la coordinación con las agencias federales de administración de bosques; establecer sociedades público-privadas para promover el uso de biomasa y biocombustibles; hacer una evaluación de los suelos disponibles para desarrollar; identificar nuevas oportunidades para aumentar los recursos hídricos de aguas subterráneas; cobrar los costos reales del servicio de agua y tarifas realistas; y apoyar a las pequeñas empresas y a las incubadoras agrícolas.

Esas conclusiones y las nuevas perspectivas asociadas muchas veces no son fáciles de conseguir, conceden los planificadores y participantes. La planificación exploratoria de escenarios, como demostró el proyecto del sudoeste de Colorado, puede ser un proceso muy exigente.

Hannah Oliver, que co-coordinó el esfuerzo de planificación de escenarios como gerente del programa Western Lands and Communities en el Sonoran Institute, recuerda haber viajado por toda la región del sudoeste de Colorado para poder conocer sus tierras y sus gentes, haciendo muchas entrevistas con partes interesadas. Y ello solamente para preparar el trabajo de base (llamado “evaluación de temas”) de las reuniones con los participantes.

El objetivo de estos talleres es extender los límites de lo posible manteniéndonos al tiempo dentro de límites realistas. “No queremos planificar escenarios tan extravagantes que los miembros de la comunidad no puedan imaginarse viviendo en ellos”, dice. El proceso intenta generar lo que Oliver y su co-coordinador Ralph Marra, de Southwest Water Resources Consulting, llaman momentos “ajá” de descubrimiento. En este caso, los participantes llegaron a comprender las profundas implicaciones de una producción menor de gas, sequías severas y variaciones bruscas en el precio del petróleo, junto con su efecto en cadena sobre el turismo y la agricultura, y su profundo impacto en la economía regional. Se dieron cuenta de que el sudoeste de Colorado podría enfrentar un futuro muy distinto si se produjeran ciertas condiciones verosímiles.

“Sales exhausto”, dice Oliver de un taller inicial típico. “Para los participantes es como ir a un campo de entrenamiento militar. La gente que sale del taller dice: ‘Nunca he tenido que pensar de esa manera’”.

Para los miembros de la comunidad, sin duda puede hacer falta mucha concentración para considerar todas las variables. “Creo que toda la planificación de escenarios —si X, entonces Y— es una manera realmente útil de analizar las cosas”, dice Gillow-Wiles. “Pero el proceso en sí puede ser un desafío, porque hay tantas incógnitas”.

Enseñanzas

Una clave del éxito, en todo caso, es reunir a una amplia gama de personas en la misma sala. En una región grande y geográficamente dispersa, esto puede ser un desafío. “Es realmente importante tener una diversidad de opiniones”, dice Oliver, quien ahora es planificadora municipal en Phoenix. “Porque lo que obtienes de estos talleres es tan bueno como lo que pones”.

Algunos participantes del sudoeste de Colorado sugieren que si se hubiera enmarcado el ejercicio más directamente en el desarrollo económico o en un tema de infraestructura más específico (en vez de la sequía), habrían participado más gestores de políticas. “A veces es difícil conseguir que los miembros de las juntas directivas se compenetren con ejercicios abstractos”, dice Willow-Giles, “en vez de con algo más tangible como: ‘¿Qué haremos dentro de 25 años con nuestros sistemas de tránsito para satisfacer las necesidades de una población en constante crecimiento?’”.

De manera similar, White advierte que la capacidad para generar impulso y energía comunitaria no es automática. “Si tuviera que extraer una enseñanza”, señala, es que “hay que esforzarse mucho para asegurar que se tienen representantes realmente diversos en ambos extremos del proceso”.

La región del sudoeste de Colorado tiene su propia cuota de temas candentes, como la política sobre el cambio climático y la dinámica de las compañías de hidrocarburos, pero los participantes señalaron que evitaron estos temas durante el proceso de XSP. (Muchos hicieron notar que la sequía llevaba afectando a la región mucho tiempo, incluso antes de la Revolución Industrial; es más, los antiguos indígenas Pueblo probablemente abandonaron sus conocidas viviendas en los riscos de Mesa Verde debido a las condiciones de sequía).

Pollock dice que una de las virtudes de la XSP es que permite, e incluso alienta, las opiniones conflictivas que pueden hacer el proceso más inclusivo, tanto en términos de proceso como de resultados. Minimiza las discusiones sobre cuál es el futuro “correcto” y ayuda a crear apoyo a la acción entre el grupo diverso que se ha reunido para desarrollar estrategias. “Creemos que esta es una manera de desactivar las cuestiones políticas que hacen que nuestro proceso público sea demasiado rencoroso y difícil”, dice.

Al incorporar ideas diversas desde el inicio del proceso, y aceptar abiertamente la incertidumbre, la planificación exploratoria de escenarios puede generar al final menos sorpresas para una comunidad, según Uri Avin, profesor de investigación y director del Centro de Planificación y Diseño del Centro Nacional de Crecimiento Inteligente de la Universidad de Maryland. “Los que se oponen a una cierta visión final pueden aparecer una vez elaborado el plan de visión y ponerse en contra”, dice. “Por el contrario, los escenarios exploratorios tienden a invitar a la disensión y el debate de forma explícita, y a la construcción de escenarios que incluyan otros puntos de vista”.

Una de las duras verdades que puede emerger de un proceso tan abierto y sincero es la realidad de que se puede producir un cambio negativo bajo condiciones futuras muy verosímiles. Oliver dice que los participantes se dieron cuenta, en efecto, de que había que escudriñar ciertas suposiciones lineales sobre el futuro económico de la región.

“Creo que lo que les provocó una gran sacudida fue comprender que la industria del petróleo y el gas quizás no existan para siempre”, dijo Oliver. “Una de las cosas más importantes de la que se dieron cuenta fue lo mucho que dependían de los ingresos de la producción de gas natural para obtener servicios básicos. Se dieron cuenta que si el petróleo y el gas desaparecieran, ya no podrían ofrecer tantos servicios”.

Avin dice que la XSP opera como una especie de antídoto a la noción tradicional de los planes como fórmula mágica. Pero, políticamente, no es fácil vender realismo. “Puede ser necesario aceptar la decadencia o el cambio, y eso puede no ser agradable, pero será inevitable si ocurren ciertas cosas”, dice. “Así que la traba inicial para los planificadores es la de estar convencidos de haber comprendido el problema y persuadir a sus jefes, los funcionarios electos, de que esta es una buena manera de planificar, y que el beneficio se obtendrá a largo plazo”.

Armando Carbonell, director del Departamento de Planificación y Forma Urbana del Instituto Lincoln, dice que en una era en que hay que tener en cuenta ciertos factores como el cambio climático, los planificadores y el público tienen que reconsiderar cada vez más la manera de conceptualizar el futuro. “La clave estriba en cómo se piensa sobre la incertidumbre”, dice. “Estaremos mejor si aceptamos la incertidumbre y el hecho de que es irreductible. Tenemos que aprender a vivir con la incertidumbre, lo cual no es una posición en absoluto cómoda para la gente o los planificadores”:

El proceso puede ser, por así decirlo, “más largo en el corto plazo”, dice Avin, pero “más corto en el largo plazo”, si las comunidades deciden su estrategia basándose en condiciones realistas. “Puede ser un proceso más riguroso y difícil, pero vale la pena porque se explora una gama de posibilidades que hasta cierto punto nos protege del futuro”, dice.

El documento de trabajo de 2014 del Instituto Lincoln titulado “Planificación exploratoria de escenarios: Lecciones aprendidas en terreno” (Exploratory Scenario Planning: Lessons Learned from the Field), de Eric J. Roberts del Instituto de Construcción de Consenso, llega a ciertas conclusiones preliminares obtenidas a partir de una variedad de otros proyectos nacionales, concentrándose tanto en lo que funcionó bien en otros contextos como en los desafíos habituales que se plantearon. Los participantes generalmente elogian el diseño del proceso y el trabajo de contextualización de los escenarios, dice Roberts, pero la capacidad de la organización auspiciante tiene que estar a la altura de los desafíos.

Una herramienta adaptativa y evolutiva

Si uno se separa del proyecto de Colorado y otras pruebas piloto recientes, queda claro que la incorporación de la planificación exploratoria de escenarios en el marco de la planificación tradicional de suelo dista mucho de haberse completado, a pesar de su poder y potencial. Parte de la solución pasa por difundir esta metodología más ampliamente y aumentar el acceso a sus instrumentos. El informe de 2012 del Instituto Lincoln titulado “Acceso abierto a las herramientas de planificación de escenarios” (Opening Access to Scenario Planning Tools) examina este proceso evolutivo. Señala que “la aparición de herramientas nuevas y mejoradas de planificación de escenarios en los últimos 10 años ofrece la promesa de que su uso vaya en aumento y que el objetivo de brindar acceso abierto al potencial pleno de las herramientas de planificación de escenario se encuentra a nuestro alcance”.

Uno de los coautores del informe, Ray Quay, investigador del Centro de Decisión para una Ciudad del Desierto de la Universidad Estatal de Arizona, dice que ha estado utilizando la metodología de planificación exploratoria de escenarios desde hace 20 años. Si bien ve que los planificadores de recursos, aguas y bosques la usan, todavía no se ha popularizado entre los planificadores de suelo y los urbanistas. “Pienso que indudablemente en ciertas situaciones puede ser muy útil”, dice Quay.

Otra barrera contra una adopción más amplia es que no se ha distinguido esta metodología de otros tipos más conocidos de planificación de escenarios, según Carbonell, del Instituto Lincoln. “Cuando uno dice ‘planificación de escenarios’, la mayoría de la gente en el campo de la planificación piensa en Envision Utah, los grandes planes de visión regionales que sirven para que la gente se ponga de acuerdo en una cierta visión preferida del futuro”, dice.

La “genealogía” intelectual de XSP se remonta a la Red de Negocios Globales (Global Business Network) de comienzos de la década de 1990, y sus raíces más profundas se encuentran en el trabajo de planificación de escenarios de Royal Dutch Shell que, según la leyenda, produjo estrategias muy exitosas, señala Carbonell. “El desafío estriba en transferirla del campo de la estrategia de planificación corporativa y empresarial, y difundirla más allá de unos pocos expertos”, dice. “Por eso es tan importante trabajar sobre el método y hacerlo más accesible y eficiente”.

En general, el desafío sigue siendo incorporar plenamente la metodología al mundo de la planificación. “Creo que fundamentalmente estamos tratando de hacer dos cosas”, dice Carbonell. “Estamos tratando de transferir un modelo de planificación empresarial a un modelo de planificación comunitaria, así que sin duda hay diferencias en el modelo de gobierno y la cantidad de gente a la que hay que hacer participar. El otro factor es la escala, el tamaño de la comunidad y el área que uno tiene que integrar. La planificación de escenarios ha surgido principalmente del nivel regional”.

Las preguntas pertinentes serán si las comunidades de menor escala tienen o no el conocimiento, los datos y la voluntad de participar; en última instancia, se trata de saber si XSP es la herramienta “apropiada para las decisiones que se tienen que tomar”, dice Carbonell.

A medida que se use con más frecuencia la planificación exploratoria de escenarios en la planificación regional y urbana, irán surgiendo más prácticas de referencia. Y los métodos para diseñar estrategias en la fase final de XSP pueden variar de una situación a otra. Summer Waters, directora del programa Western Lands and Communities, dice: “Las estrategias resultantes tienen que ser políticamente aceptables. Es decir, la gente con la que trabajamos tiene que poder convencer a sus electores de que acepten y adopten sus conclusiones”.

Quay dice que a estas alturas el proceso de generación de escenarios por medio de XSP ya se ha “perfeccionado” mucho. Pero todavía hay trabajo que realizar en el paso final de identificar acciones que aborden múltiples escenarios y formulen una estrategia apropiada. “El problema es que las conclusiones estratégicas a las que se ha llegado… han sido distintas en todos los proyectos en los que he trabajado”, dice Quay. “Hay tanto de estructura como de arte en este proceso”.

Avin, de la Universidad de Maryland, coincide en que algunos aspectos de estos métodos poderosos están todavía concretándose. Pero no hay razón, dice, para demorar su adopción. “XSP no tiene el respaldo de herramientas y modelos de la misma manera que el proceso ‘visionista’ tiene”, dice. Pero se han desarrollado ya suficientes escenarios para que los planificadores se beneficien de ellos y los adopten en vez de comenzar desde el principio, dice.

Como ejemplo del trabajo paralelo realizado en otro campo, los expertos mencionan el trabajo de escenarios avanzados de la Junta de Recursos de Transporte y la herramienta de software asociada que se desarrolló, llamada Impacts 2050. Los planificadores interesados en obtener un mayor contexto y ejemplos encontrarán una diversidad de fuentes detalladas en el libro de 2007 del Instituto Lincoln titulado “Comprometidos con el futuro” (Engaging the FutureLa conformación de los siguientes cien años” (Shaping the Next One Hundred YearsGobernanza anticipatoria” (Anticipatory Governance), publicado en el Journal of the American Planning Association.

Holway, Jim. C. J. Gabbe, Frank Hebbert, Jason Lally, Robert Matthews, y Ray Quay. 2012. Opening Access to Scenario Planning Tools. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Hopkins, Lewis D., y Marisa A. Zapata. 2007. Engaging the Future: Forecasts, Scenarios, Plans, and Projects. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Lempert, Robert J., Steven W. Popper, y Steven C. Bankes. 2003. Shaping the Next One Hundred Years: New Methods for Quantitative, Long-Term Policy Analysis. RAND.

Quay, Ray. 2010. “Anticipatory Governance: A Tool for Climate Change Adaptation.” Journal of the American Planning Association 76(4).

Amid the jagged peaks of the San Juan Mountains, in the northeast quadrant of the Four Corners regional border, is a cluster of five southwestern Colorado counties whose names evoke the region’s rich and diverse history: Montezuma, San Juan, La Plata, Dolores, Archuleta.

Diverse, too, is the way of life and the economy of the region—from tourism and agriculture to fossil fuel extraction. Fewer than 100,000 people populate the varied and mountainous area. The cities of Durango and Cortez represent a bit of relatively bustling semi-urban life, while small mountain towns and two Native American reservations occupy outposts across the 6,500-square-mile area, roughly the size of Connecticut.

For these far-flung communities, planning for the future has become much more uncertain in the 21st century, as the wildcard of climate change and the vagaries of the energy industry have minimized sure bets. Educated guesses about the coming decades are getting harder to make across many dimensions: from unpredictable prices and revenues within the natural gas industry to swings in the size of the snowpack, affecting river flow, crops, and skiing alike. And many variables are highly interconnected.

“Our biggest question is our vulnerability to drought,” says Dick White, city councilor in Durango. “Our agricultural and tourism industry could be totally disrupted if we go into long-term drought and have lots of wildfires.”

Recognizing the need for wider policy coordination, a regional group of governing bodies formed the Southwest Colorado Council of Governments in late 2009, to address larger challenges and to seek out collaborative opportunities. Yet, in terms of policy, the road-map to stability, sustainability, and economic prosperity has not necessarily become clearer.

The conundrums at hand may simply surpass the conventional planning tools themselves, observers say. Regional planning as a discipline, of course, stretches back decades, but the procedures, templates, and models employed—from “visioning” to “normative,” “predictive,” or “trendline” methods—are not always up to the task of grappling with irreducible uncertainties. So, last year, the Southwest Colorado Council embarked on an intensive process in partnership with Western Lands and Communities—a joint program of the Sonoran Institute and the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy—with an emerging policy tool that embraces the very idea of uncertainty: exploratory scenario planning, or XSP. Unlike the normative or traditional planning processes, it is not about what is preferred—an expression of community values—it is about what may happen beyond the control of planners involved.

XSP requires participants to identify the greatest causes of uncertainty in their community and use those challenges to envision alternative scenarios of the future. Whereas two to four scenarios would typically result from more traditional forms of scenario planning, the Southwest Colorado Council created eight scenarios during their XSP sessions.

Early in 2015, consultants, experts, and regional policy makers converged in the city of Durango to unpack a crucial question that would generate relevant scenarios: “Given the possibility of extended long-term drought and its potential environmental impacts, how could the Five-County Region develop a more adaptable economy?”

The question—which the group worked out through a careful, community-oriented process—became the focus of an extensive process of fact-gathering and analysis. This research culminated in two workshops structured to explore a variety of regional “futures”—the possible and plausible ways in which life in southwest Colorado could play out. The time horizon was to be 25 years, through 2040.

Participants considered the interrelated impacts of several critical areas of uncertainty, including the length of potential drought, local production levels of natural gas, and the cost of oil.

The central idea behind XSP is to bring together stakeholders to advance a multistep planning process that imagines many futures and formulates strategic insights accordingly. Its methodological steps are roughly: first, formulate a core set of questions; then, precisely identify and rank the forces of change; next, create narratives around possible scenarios and their implications; and, finally, formulate active responses and discern actions that would help address multiple scenarios. The process, says Miriam Gillow-Wiles, executive director of the Southwest Colorado Council of Governments, furnished a fresh way to help planners and policy makers imagine regional dynamics. “I think it set the council of governments up to be not just another economic development organization or government organization, because we are doing something different,” she says.

The project was also another step by Sonoran and Lincoln toward fine-tuning the concept and ultimately testing the value of exploratory scenario planning—which has its early roots in the business management and military spheres—in the context of urban and regional planning. Other recent case studies have been explored in central Arizona, in the Upper Verde River Watershed and the Town of Sahuarita, just south of Tucson, Arizona.

“This is something that is not only a good idea intellectually,” says Peter Pollock, manager of Western Programs at the Lincoln Institute. “It will add real value to your community planning process to deal with real problems.”

A Range of Futures

Dealing with real—and really tough—problems is the name of the game in southwest Colorado, as the region faces a “daunting” array of changes all at once, according to a 2015 report, “Driving Forces of Change in the Intermountain West,” prepared as part of the exploratory scenario planning process. Some are demographic—inflow of population, with more Hispanics, coupled with urbanization. Others relate to the “uncertain and complex” nature of the energy industries, which are affected by volatile global economic patterns.

Durango City Councilor White says he and fellow policy makers have been forced to think a lot about these shifts as their city considers a variety of infrastructure projects, from expanding the sewer treatment system to growing the size of the airport. White, a former Smith College astronomy professor who retired early and moved West to get involved in environmental policy, was a key member of the group that met last year in Durango as part of the Southwest Colorado Council of Governments.

“You’ve got this range of possible futures, and you really don’t know which road you’re going to go down,” he says. “The idea is to identify the biggest risks and best ‘no regrets’ policies.”

For White, the entire exercise of gaming out how varying drought conditions might affect the whole regional economy helped clarify issues. “Conceptually, I find that an extraordinarily useful policy tool,” he says. The sewer and airport infrastructure questions have subsequently been cast in a new light: “I have seen both of these decisions through the lens of [exploratory] scenario planning.” Given future uncertainties, White says he is determined to make investments that will give future policy makers flexibility should they need to make further infrastructure changes.

The final “low-regret” actions and strategies that stakeholders identified included: better coordination with federal agencies on forest management, public-private partnerships to promote use of biomass and biofuel, assessments of available land for development, identifying new opportunities to augment water resources from groundwater, the charging of real costs for water service and realistic impact fees, and support for small business and agriculture incubators.

Those insights and associated new perspectives are often hard-won, planners and participants concede. Exploratory scenario planning, as the southwest Colorado project demonstrated, can be a demanding process.

Hannah Oliver, who co-facilitated the scenario planning effort as a program manager with the Sonoran Institute in the Western Lands and Communities program, recalls driving all over the southwest Colorado region to get a feel for its land and its people and conducting many interviews with stakeholders. And that was just to prepare the groundwork—the “issues assessment”—for the stakeholder meetings.

The goal of the workshops themselves is to push the boundaries of the possible while staying within the bounds of the realistic. “You don’t want the scenarios to be so outlandish that community members can’t see themselves in it,” she says. The process aims to generate what Oliver, who was joined as a facilitator by Ralph Marra of Southwest Water Resources Consulting, calls “Ah-hah” moments. In this case, participants came to understand the profound implications of lower gas production, severe drought, and swings in oil prices—with ripple effects across the tourism and agriculture industries and with deep overall impacts on the regional economy. Southwest Colorado, they realized, could face a very different future under certain plausible conditions.

“You come out exhausted,” Oliver says of the typical initial workshop. “For the participants, it’s like going to a boot camp. People coming out of that workshop say, ‘I’ve never had to think like that before.’”

For community members, it can certainly take a lot of concentration to juggle the variables. “I think the whole way of scenario planning—if X, then Y—is a really useful way to look at things,” says Gillow-Wiles. But “the whole process itself can be challenging, because there are so many unknowns.”

Lessons Learned

A key to success, in any case, is to gather a broad range of people into the same room. In a wide and geographically dispersed region, that can be challenging. “Having a diversity of opinions is really important,” says Oliver, who is now a village planner in Phoenix. “Because the stuff you get out of the workshops is only as good as what goes in.”

Some southwest Colorado participants suggest that framing the exercise more directly around economic development or a more specific infrastructure issue (opposed to drought) might have attracted more participation from policy makers. “It’s sometimes hard to get your board members to buy into that kind of pie-in-the-sky type of thing,” says Willow-Giles, “versus something more tangible like ‘What do we do with our population growth in terms of transportation 25 years from now?’”

Likewise, White cautions that the ability to create momentum and community energy is not a given. “If I had a lesson to draw,” he notes, it’s that “you have to really work hard to make sure that you continue to have appropriately diverse representatives at both ends of the process.”

The southwest Colorado region has its share of political hot-button issues—including the politics of climate change and the dynamics of the fossil fuel companies there—but participants report that they steered clear of the land mines during the XSP process. (Drought, many note, has long afflicted the region, even prior to the Industrial Revolution; indeed, the ancient Puebloans likely left their famed cliff dwellings at Mesa Verde because of dry conditions.)

Pollock says that one of the virtues of XSP is that it allows in and even encourages conflicting views that can make it more inclusive, both in terms of process and outcomes. It minimizes arguments about which future is “right,” and it helps build support for action among the diverse group that has come together to develop the strategies. “We think it is a way to defuse some of the political questions that make our public process overly rancorous and difficult,” he says.

By bringing diverse ideas into the process early and openly embracing uncertainty, exploratory scenario planning can yield fewer surprises in the end for a community, according to Uri Avin, research professor and director of the Center for Planning and Design at the National Center for Smart Growth, University of Maryland. “The opponents of your end-state vision may, at the end of your visioning plan, come out of the woodwork and fight you,” he says. “Whereas exploratory scenarios explicitly tend to invite dissention and debate, and the construction of scenarios that embrace other viewpoints.”

One of the stark truths that can emerge from such a candid process is the reality that negative change may be likely under very plausible future conditions. Oliver says that participants in fact came to the realization that certain linear assumptions about the region’s economic future may need to be scrutinized.

“I think what struck them is the understanding that the oil and gas industry may not be around forever,” says Oliver. One of the biggest things they realized was how much they relied on money from natural gas production for basic services, she says. “They realized they might not be able to offer as many services if oil and gas were gone.”

Avin says that XSP operates as a kind of antidote to the traditional notion of plans-as-silver bullets. But, politically, that realism can be a challenging sell. “It may include accepting decline or change that may not be palatable but may be inevitable if certain things happen,” he says. “So the initial hurdle for planners is getting their arms around it and persuading their bosses who are elected officials that this is a good way to plan, and the payoff is in the long run.”

Armando Carbonell, chair of the Department of Planning and Urban Form at the Lincoln Institute, says that, in an era when factors like climate change are now in play, planners and the public must increasingly rethink the way they conceptualize the future. “The key is how one thinks about uncertainty,” he says. “We’re better off to accept uncertainty, and the fact that uncertainty is irreducible. We need to learn to live with uncertainty, which is not at all a comfortable position for people and planners.”

The process can be, so to speak, “longer in the short run,” Avin notes, yet it’s “shorter in the long run,” as communities strategize based on realistic conditions. “It may be more rigorous and difficult, but it pays off because you have explored a range of outcomes that protect you from the future to some degree,” he says.

The Lincoln Institute’s 2014 working paper “Exploratory Scenario Planning: Lessons Learned from the Field,” authored by Eric J. Roberts of the Consensus Building Institute, provides some preliminary insights gleaned from a variety of other projects nationally, focusing both on what worked well in other contexts and typical challenges encountered. The process design and scenario framing work are often rated highly by participants, Roberts finds, but the capacity of the convening organization must be up to the demanding challenges.

An Adaptive and Evolving Tool

Step back from the Colorado project and other recent pilot applications, and it becomes clear that the migration of exploratory scenario planning into mainstream land planning is still far from complete, despite its power and potential. Part of the solution is wider dissemination and increased access to the method’s instruments. The Lincoln Institute’s 2012 report Opening Access to Scenario Planning Tools surveys the evolving landscape. It notes, “The emergence of new and improved scenario planning tools over the last 10 years offers promise that the use of scenario planning can increase and that the goal of providing open access to the full potential of scenario planning tools is within reach.”

One of the report’s coauthors, Ray Quay, a researcher with the Decision Center for a Desert City at Arizona State University, says that he has been using the exploratory scenario planning methodology for 20 years now. While he sees it being used by planners in the resource, water, and forestry communities, it has not yet taken hold among land planners and urban planners. “I think there are certainly situations where it can be very useful,” Quay says.

Another barrier to wider adoption is the general failure to distinguish the methodology from other, more familiar kinds of scenario planning, according to Carbonell of the Lincoln Institute. “When you say ‘scenario planning’ to most people in the planning world, they think of Envision Utah—the big regional vision plans that got people to agree on some preferred vision of the future,” he says.

The intellectual “genealogy” of XSP traces back to the Global Business Network in the early 1990s, and its deepest roots lie in the scenario planning work of Royal Dutch Shell—which, as legend has it, produced very successful strategies, Carbonell notes. “The challenge is taking it out of the world of corporate planning and business strategy and getting participation by more than a few wonks,” he says. “That’s why working on the method, making it more accessible and efficient, is important.”

Overall, the challenge remains to bring the methodology fully into the planning world. “I think we’re primarily trying to do two things,” says Carbonell. “We’re trying to transfer a business planning model to a community planning model, so there are definitely differences in governance and the number of people to deal with. The other thing is scale, the size of the community and the area you deal with. Scenario planning has really come more out of the regional level.”

The pertinent questions will be whether or not smaller-scale communities have the expertise, data, and willingness to participate; but ultimately it will be about whether XSP is “appropriate to the decisions being made,” Carbonell says.

As exploratory scenario planning is used more often in regional and urban planning, further best practices will certainly emerge. And the methods of devising strategies in the final phase of XSP may vary from situation to situation. Summer Waters, program director of Western Lands and Communities, says, “The resulting strategies have to be politically acceptable. That is to say, the people we work with have to be able to convince their constituents to buy in.”

Quay says the process leading to the production of scenarios through XSP has been largely “perfected” at this point. But there’s work to be done on the final step of identifying actions that address multiple scenarios and formulating an appropriate strategy. “The problem is that distilling the strategic insights … has been different on all the projects I’ve worked on,” Quay says. “There’s both structure and art within it.”

Avin, of the University of Maryland, agrees that some aspects of these powerful methods are still being worked out. But that’s no reason, he argues, to delay their adoption. “XSP is not supported by tools and models in the way that visioning is supported,” he says. But enough scenarios have been developed that planners can benefit from considering them and adapting them, rather than starting from scratch, he says.

For examples of parallel work in another field, experts note some of the advanced scenario work by the Transportation Resource Board and the associated software tool developed, Impacts 2050. Planners interested in more context and examples will find a diversity of deep sources in the Lincoln Institute’s 2007 book Engaging the FutureShaping the Next One Hundred YearsJournal of the American Planning Association.

Holway, Jim. C. J. Gabbe, Frank Hebbert, Jason Lally, Robert Matthews, and Ray Quay. 2012. Opening Access to Scenario Planning Tools. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Hopkins, Lewis D., and Marisa A. Zapata. 2007. Engaging the Future: Forecasts, Scenarios, Plans, and Projects. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Lempert, Robert J., Steven W. Popper, Steven C. Bankes. 2003. Shaping the Next One Hundred Years: New Methods for Quantitative, Long-Term Policy Analysis. RAND.

Quay, Ray. 2010. “Anticipatory Governance: A Tool for Climate Change Adaptation.” Journal of the American Planning Association 76(4).