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.

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).

Climate-related impacts vary across regions, affecting communities economically, socially, and environmentally. While all regions of the United States are expected to experience temperature increases, the eight states located between the Rocky Mountains and the Cascade and Sierra Nevada mountain ranges are in a region forecast to be hard-hit by a variety of climate impacts that may expose vulnerabilities different from those in other U.S. regions. Western communities also face an uphill battle when attempting to plan for these future challenges.

Given the significant implications associated with a changing climate in the Intermountain West, this article takes a closer look at some innovations and tools designed to help communities plan and prepare for the uncertainty and risk attributed to a changing climate, and to increase community resilience.

The Intermountain West

Characterized by its scenic beauty, wide open spaces, abundant wildlife, mild climate, and countless recreational opportunities, the Intermountain West encompasses urban, rural, and amenity communities situated within large-scale intact open lands. The region’s eight mountain states—Arizona, Colorado, Idaho, Montana, Nevada, New Mexico, Utah, and Wyoming—are home to 22 million people, approximately 8 percent of the total U.S. population. Western cities are generally in arid or semi-arid environments, and although the footprints of some urban centers are large, the built environment of the major cities is decidedly dense and largely concentrated in megaregions such as the Arizona Sun Corridor and Colorado Front Range.

The vast expanses of open space between metropolitan centers have intrinsic economic, cultural, and biological value. More than half the region’s land is in public ownership and is managed by the Bureau of Land Management, U.S. Forest Service, National Park Service, or U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (figure 1). In mountainous regions, some counties are 80 percent publicly owned, and in states like Arizona and Nevada the land is more than 90 percent publicly owned. Tribal lands make up a large part of the region, and state trust lands cover approximately 46 million acres in both rural and urban areas. One of the most extensive land uses in the region is agriculture, which includes ranching and other agricultural services.

Growth and Change

Over the past few decades, the West has experienced dramatic population growth as communities shift away from resource extractive industries such as agriculture, forestry, and mining and instead attract amenity-seeking retirees and telecommuters, as well as new professional businesses, tourism, construction, and consumer service industries (Winkler et al. 2007).

The high rate of urban growth has changed both the demographic and economic make-up of the West and also the allocation of resources. Land that was once used for grazing and agriculture has transitioned to residential and commercial uses. The proliferation of housing and industry requires the development of more energy and water resources to accommodate the growing population. Many western communities are dependent on the Colorado River, which serves the water supply needs of 30 million people in seven U.S. states and Mexico. More than 70 percent of this water is used to irrigate 3.5 million acres of cropland. In addition to natural resource changes, the increase in growth has caused an expansion of housing in and near forests, an area known as the wildland urban interface, to take advantage of the West’s natural amenities.

However, the changes in the region are not only attributable to growth; the climate is also changing. Since the 1880s, scientists have been measuring the Earth’s surface temperature at thousands of locations, taking into account instrument deviations and local temperature factors such as urban heat islands. The analysis of this data shows that the Earth’s average temperature has increased by more than 1.4° over the past 100 years, with much of this increase experienced over the past 35 years, and it is evident that the temperature is continuing to rise.

Although the temperature changes appear to be marginal, they have significant impacts on local climate. For example, winters are now shorter and milder, snow and ice cover are decreasing, heat waves are becoming more frequent, and many plant and animal species are moving to cooler or higher altitudes to escape the warmer weather.

Although climate change is a highly complex issue that varies from region to region, the following impacts have been identified as overarching changes that will occur because of rising temperatures in the West:

• higher frequency of prolonged heat waves and drought;
• increased number and severity of forest fires;
• biodiversity changes, including the severity of disease outbreaks and other disturbances;
• prolonged and wider impacts of vector-borne disease; and
• damage to infrastructure due to unexpected and extreme weather events.

Changes are already in progress. There have been widespread temperature-related reductions in snowpack over the last 50 years, leading to changes in the seasonal timing of river runoff. Feng and Hu (2007) have demonstrated that the dates of peak snow accumulation and peak snowmelt runoff are occurring 10 to 40 days earlier than in previous years. The Colorado River is especially vulnerable, often receiving a large portion of its water from a hydrological system dependent on snowmelt precipitation from three basin states: Colorado, Utah, and Wyoming.

Precipitation patterns also are changing and becoming more variable. Drought is becoming more prolonged along with the frequency and intensity of heavy downpours. Large wildfires are more frequent, and the fire season is getting longer (figure 2). Wildfires burn twice as much land area each year as they did 40 years ago with a burn season two and half months longer than 40 years ago (Climate Central 2012).

As the climate becomes increasingly variable and shifts further and further from the relative stability experienced by humankind to date, the resulting changes will make communities more vulnerable and may put their health and livelihood at risk. Even one season of drought can have dramatic repercussions, notably higher basic food prices that put considerable strain on vulnerable populations including the elderly and financially disadvantaged. Increasing temperatures, prolonged drought, and incidences of wildfire and biodiversity changes due to migration of invasive species play a significant role in the accelerating transformation of the landscape. With so many effects felt at the community scale, local governments have an important role to play in planning for intensifying climate changes.

Planning for Change

Climate action occurs at multiple levels of governance and in a variety of different capacities. The federal government plays a significant role in responding to large-scale disasters that affect multiple states, such as the recent Hurricane Sandy. Regulatory federal actions that coincide with climate change, such as vehicle fuel efficiency standards or proposals for a national carbon tax, apply to the entire population. At the same time, state governments and regional groups are implementing regional strategies such as cap-and-trade systems and multijurisdictional transportation planning projects.

In terms of effective action on the ground, local governments are most suited to tackle local impacts and planning efforts relating to the issue of climate change. They are in a prime position to create comprehensive strategies that directly alter city functions to support mitigation and adaptation efforts. Local action plays an extensive role as city governments have direct authority over essential functions such as waste management, public transportation, public works, and facility management, as well as land use and zoning. For example, Boulder County recently adopted its Climate Change Preparedness Plan to help local residents and communities prepare for changing environmental conditions. This plan identifies local impacts, explores how these impacts will affect resource management, and outlines opportunities for adaptation planning.

The Context for Climate Planning in the West

Western Lands and Communities, a joint venture of the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy and the Sonoran Institute, has developed a large body of resources and reports to gain a better understanding of the needs and challenges facing western communities (Carter 2008; Richards 2009; Bark 2009; Metz and Below 2009). The seminal report, Planning for Climate Change in the West, identifies key barriers to implementing local climate action policies (Carter and Culp 2010). A review of these reports, along with interviews with western sustainability directors, revealed three key challenges associated with climate action:

• political context;
• communication of multiple values and beliefs; and
• lack of funding and resources.

Climate change can be a politically polarizing topic in the West. The clash of multiple viewpoints creates barriers in terms of building political support and conducting effective educational outreach, thus reducing the potential for civic engagement and limiting capacity for collective action in pursuit of common interests. Long-held cultural beliefs about limiting the role of government and protecting private property and citizens’ rights contribute to the resistance to zoning and other policies that would change land use patterns or regulate growth.

Without the backing of significant decision makers, such as the mayor or city manager, or strong support from the municipal council, moving climate action forward can be a difficult proposition. There are also internal communication obstacles in bringing different city departments together to discuss local climate change impacts and the best approach to work collaboratively to ensure that the programs and policies address the adverse impacts effectively.

With local governments scrambling to accommodate shortfalls related to the recent recession, cities lack the financial resources needed to invest in current climate action in order to avoid the high cost of future climate impacts. Often, communities discount future impacts, which place the burden and expense of climate planning (or inaction) onto future generations. Dealing with rapid population growth and fiscal pressures to provide infrastructure makes it increasingly difficult to obtain funding to underwrite climate planning. Even communities that adopt climate plans may encounter obstacles in implementing those plans. Some communities may be overwhelmed by the task of deciphering climate science, and many are unfamiliar with policies and actions necessary to mitigate and adapt to climate change.

Unlocking Climate Action in the West

While some local governments in the Intermountain West, such as Salt Lake City, Flagstaff, Tucson, Denver, Las Vegas and Boulder County, are making concerted and laudatory efforts to address climate change, they represent a small sampling of the region. Overall, the West is behind the curve on implementation efforts to adapt to climate change and create communities that are more resilient.

However, the West is feeling the heat, literally and figuratively. After a summer of record temperatures, raging wildfires, and crippling drought, a large and growing majority of Americans believe that global warming is affecting weather patterns. They understand that droughts and heat waves are becoming more common and the weather is becoming increasingly volatile (Leiserowitz 2012). One of the main challenges facing communities is how to integrate new information about the risks of climate change into existing planning frameworks in order to plan effectively for an uncertain future.

Tools for Change

To help address the challenges associated with climate action, there are many tools that western communities can use to guide community resilience. Organizations such as ICLEI–Local Governments for Sustainability, the Institute for Sustainable Communities (ISC), and the Urban Sustainability Directors Network (USDN) provide information and trainings that offer sample policies and plans, peer networking opportunities, technical tools, and resources on vulnerability and risk. However, many of these organizations have a broad geographical focus and a target audience in large cities. It is important to address the needs of smaller communities that have political, fiscal, and resource constraints. In addition, there is a large need to better integrate climate adaptation policies into existing city departments and plans.

The Lincoln Institute and the Sonoran Institute are developing tools and resources that support efforts to plan and prepare for the ever-changing landscape of the West, including: information exchange and training; value setting planning tools; and anticipatory governance methods and tools. These tools offer promise for working in a variety of community types, including the underserved rural and amenity regions, and supplying the support and training that local planners need to integrate climate resilience planning holistically into current planning processes and encourage collaboration among multiple departments.

Information Exchange and Training

Communities often look to their peers that are similar in size, capacity, and geography to get a better understanding of planning efforts that will be successful in their own region. Local governments, institutions, and planning firms are encouraged to publicize their experiences so other communities can learn from their successes and missteps, and then modify and adapt their own plans as needed.

The Successful Communities Online Toolkit information exchange, also known as SCOTie, is an example of a tool that caters to western communities by encouraging the exchange of vital information in the form of best practice case studies and resources (figure 3). The case studies in SCOTie are organized by state, community type, and planning issue. To build and disseminate the toolkit’s case studies and resources, SCOTie partners with state chapters of the American Planning Association and nonprofit organizations working to build stronger, more resilient communities. Educational webinars like the Planning in the West adaptation series offer a way for communities to learn about climate-related planning and interact directly with representatives from model communities.

Value Setting Planning Tools

To move past political debates over climate science, tools are needed to facilitate collaborative planning efforts that include stakeholders with varying values and beliefs. Facilitating a process that focuses on engaging the public and finding common ground in moving forward with action to mitigate climate variability can neutralize the polarizing debates that are often stuck on the causes of climate change and scientific uncertainty.

Value setting is a particularly useful resource for informing management decisions where communities have to make tough decisions when resources are stressed by demand and climate variability. For example, in January 2012 the Sonoran Institute, the Morrison Institute, and the University of Arizona hosted the Watering the Sun Corridor pre-conference workshop where 100 participants saw presentations from experts, engaged in interactive discussions in small groups, and interacted collectively using live polling. Participants explored value tradeoffs between competing uses of water for urban development, agricultural production, and the environment in a water system stressed by drought induced by climate change. This collaborative, interactive format brought together stakeholders with many different viewpoints to gain a better understanding of collective values regarding the distribution of water in Arizona.

Anticipatory Governance Methods and Tools

As the future becomes less certain and more risky, traditional planning approaches that involve making educated predictions and developing plans and tools to reach that desired result will likely prove to be inadequate. Cities need tools to “anticipate and adapt” to change rather than “predict and plan” in order to better incorporate the uncertainties and complexities of future conditions (Quay 2010). Scenario planning is a technique that cities can use to think about climate impacts and develop ways to adapt to them. The use of scenarios can enable planners to grapple with complex issues, think about how trends and changes will play out across multiple scenarios, and plan for policy options that are robust under many future scenarios.

Western Lands and Communities is collaborating with partners including the Consensus Building Institute to develop coherent methodologies, identify driving forces of change, and develop educational tools to support community adaptation using scenario planning tools and techniques. Computer-based planning tools are valued because they help communities gain a better understanding of how particular planning ideas and strategies will shape their future. Building better plans that adapt to challenges like climate change will require communities to make decisions in the face of competing economic interests, different cultural values, and divergent views about property rights and the role of government.

Over the years, planning tools have evolved to help professional and citizen planners analyze and develop options and scenarios. Some tools are available commercially and others are free to the public, with varied user and output complexity. Although these tools are gaining traction, the current use of interactive planning tools is limited and faces a number of challenges. For example, the complex tasks of selecting a tool, collecting data, calibrating the tool, developing scenarios, and using the tool to assess various scenarios present significant barriers to many potential users. Western Lands and Communities is collaborating with tool developers to address the near and long-term challenges and expanding the use of scenario planning tools (Holway et al. 2012).

Conclusion

The Intermountain West is a complex region with changing demographics, rapid population growth, and increased economic and cultural diversity. Western Lands and Communities is working to develop and disseminate educational tools and methodologies that will help western communities plan holistically for climate change, build capacity for understanding risk and managing uncertainty in an inclusive manner, and engage communities of disparate stakeholders. To accomplish these ambitious goals, planners need effective tools to shape the future of their communities. We will continue to explore new approaches and methods for assisting planners in the effort to anticipate and adapt to change, engage communities in the effort to develop and adopt adaptation policies, and ultimately create more resilient communities that are prepared for the impacts of a changing climate.

About the Authors

Erika Mahoney is a program associate at Western Lands and Communities, the Lincoln Institute’s joint venture with the Sonoran Institute, where she develops planning tools, delivers trainings, and conducts research on local climate action efforts.

Hannah Oliver is a research associate at Western Lands and Communities, the Lincoln Institute’s joint venture with the Sonoran Institute, where she conducts research on local climate action efforts and assists with program development of the Successful Communities Online Toolkit information exchange (SCOTie).

References

Bark, R. H. 2009. Assessment of climate change impacts on local economies. Working paper. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Carter, R. 2008. Land use planning and the changing climate of the West. Working paper. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Carter, R., and S. Culp. 2010. Planning for climate change in the West. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Climate Central. 2012. The age of western wildfires. Princeton, NJ.

Feng, S., and Q, Hu. 2007. Changes in winter snowfall/precipitation ratio in the contiguous United States. Journal of Geophysical Research 112.

Holway, J., C. J. Gabbe, F. Hebbert, J. Lally, R. Matthews, and R. Quay. 2012. Opening access to scenario planning tools. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Leiserowitz, A. M.-R. 2012. Extreme weather and climate change in the American mind. New Haven, CT: Yale Project on Climate Change Communication.

Metz, D., and C. Below. 2009. Local land use planning and climate change policy: Summary report from focus groups and interviews with local officials in the Intermountain West. Working paper. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Quay, R. 2010. Anticipatory governance. Journal of the American Planning Association 76 (4): 496–511.

Richards, T. 2009. Driving climate change mitigation at multiple levels of governance in the West. Working paper. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Winkler, R., D. R. Field, A. E. Luloff, R. S. Krannich, and T. Williams. 2007. Social landscapes of the Inter-mountain West: A comparison of ‘Old West’ and ‘New West’ communities. Rural Sociology, 478–501.

Web Links

Western Lands and Communities: http://www.sonoraninstitute.org/where-we-work/westwide-research-tools/lincoln-sonoran-joint-venture.html

Successful Communities Online Toolkit information exchange (SCOTie): http://scotie.sonoraninstitute.org

Planning in the West webinars: http://www.sonoraninstitute.org/where-we-work/westwide-training-leadership/planning-in-the-west-webinars.html

Before joining the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy, I covered the Detroit beat for almost a decade for the Ford Foundation. There I was able to witness firsthand the unprecedented challenges involved in reversing the fortunes of the most powerful and important U.S. city of the mid-20th century. The enormity of these challenges called forth a coalition of some of the best and brightest community rebuilders with whom I’ve had the privilege to work. The quality and commitment of this strident group of public servants, civic and community leaders, and private-sector visionaries helped Detroit reclaim a bright future.

Signature efforts of this unique public-private-philanthropic partnership (a P4!) included the planning, construction, and funding of Detroit’s first public transit investment in more than five decades—the M1 Rail, which broke ground in July 2014 using a pooled private investment of more than $100 million. Leadership for the effort did not simply build a symbolic 3.3-mile light rail line along Woodward Avenue, the spine of the city, it also leveraged the private investment to secure a commitment from state and national governments to launch the region’s first transit authority.

Local and national philanthropic leaders also assembled more than $125 million to launch the New Economy Initiative—a decade-long effort to rekindle an entrepreneurial ecosystem in the region through strategic incubation of hundreds of new businesses, thousands of new jobs, and enduring long-term collaboration among employers and workforce developers. And, in what might be their most controversial and heroic collective effort, these philanthropies worked with the State of Michigan to assemble more than $800 million for “the Grand Bargain,” which saved both the legendary collection of the Detroit Institute of the Arts from the auction block and the future pensions of Detroit’s public servants.

Stunningly, while social entrepreneurs did gymnastics to bring hundreds of millions of dollars in support to Detroit, the city reportedly returned similar amounts in unspent formula funds to the federal government. A city with more than 100,000 vacant and abandoned properties and unemployment rates hovering close to 30 percent could not find a way to use funds that were freely available; the city needed only to ask for them and monitor their use. Beleaguered Detroit public servants, whose ranks were decimated by population loss and the city’s fiscal insolvency, did not have the capacity or the systems to responsibly manage or comply with federal funding rules. And, in this regard, Detroit is not unique among legacy cities or other fiscally challenged places.

A March 2015 report from the Government Accountability Office, Municipalities in Fiscal Crisis (GAO-15-222), looked at four cities that filed for bankruptcy (Camden, NJ; Detroit, MI; Flint, MI; and Stockton, CA) and concluded that the cities’ inability to use and manage federal grants was attributable to inadequate human capital capacity, staffing shortages, diminished financial capacity, and outdated information technology systems. The report lamented that not only were the cities unable to use formula funds—like Community Development Block Grants that are distributed according to objective criteria such as population size and need—but they routinely forwent applying for competitive funding, as well. A separate 2012 analysis by Senator Tom Coburn (R-OK), Money for Nothing, identified some $70 billion in federal funds that were unspent “due to poorly drafted laws, bureaucratic obstacles and mismanagement, and a general lack of interest or demand from the communities to which this money was allocated.”

How can it be that the neediest places are unable to use the assistance that is available? It’s unsurprising that a city like Detroit, which lost almost two-thirds of its population over six decades, would see diminished staffing and staff capacity in city offices. It is also unsurprising that Detroit did not have state-of-the-art IT systems. When a municipality faces fiscal challenges, infrastructure always gets short shrift. The inability to make use of allocated funding probably isn’t a sin of commission, but a regrettable omission that runs deeper, and needs fixing. But where to start? Let’s see what the data tells us. Which formula programs have the weakest throughput? Where are the places with the worst uptake? By all accounts, we don’t know. If federal agencies know which programs and places might make the best and worst lists, they are not reporting it. Moreover, most citizens in Detroit, who bear one of the highest property tax rates in the country, don’t know that their city is leaving tens of millions of dollars of federal money on the table each and every year.

Last summer, with little fanfare but great ambition, the Lincoln Institute launched a global campaign to promote municipal fiscal health. The campaign focuses attention on several drivers of municipal fiscal health, including the role of land and property taxation to provide a stable and secure revenue base. In this issue of Land Lines, we consider ways that cities and regions are building new capacities—reliable fiscal monitoring and transparent stewardship of public resources, effective communication and coordination among local, county, state, and federal governments—to overcome major economic and environmental barriers. We focus on how places are looking inside and outside their borders to enlist the assistance of others. Hopefully, these stories will inspire us to work toward broader, deeper, and more creative ways to thrive together rather than struggling alone.

Two technology-based tools featured in this issue are changing the way municipal finance information is organized and shared. They empower citizens and voters to hold their community leaders accountable and ensure that once we throw the assistance switch, the circuit is completed. PolicyMap (p. 18) was founded with the goal of supporting data-driven public decisions. Researchers there have organized dozens of public data sets and developed a powerful interface where users can view the data on maps. It includes thousands of indicators that track the use of public funds and their impact. The city of Arlington, Massachusetts, has demystified its city finances through the Visual Budget (p. 5), an open-source software tool that helps citizens understand where their tax dollars are spent. PolicyMap and the Visual Budget have the potential to follow all revenue sources and expenditures for a city and make them transparent to taxpayers. For cities or federal agencies willing to disclose this information, these social enterprises stand ready to track and report on the use, or non-use, of public funds.

Vertical alignment of multiple levels of government toward the goal of municipal fiscal health is not only a domestic remedy. Our interview with Zhi Liu (p. 30) reports on the efforts of the central government of the People’s Republic of China to build a stable revenue base under local governments through enactment of a property tax law, an action to help municipal governments survive the shifting sands of land reform.

In our report on the Working Cities Challenge (p. 25), researchers at the Federal Reserve Bank of Boston identify what is possibly the most important capacity needed to promote not only municipal fiscal health, but thriving, sustainable, and resilient places: leadership. Leadership—which might come in the form of visionary public officials, bold civic entrepreneurs, or gritty peripatetic academics—is at the core of other inspiring cases reported in this issue. Leaders in Chattanooga (p. 8) made a big bet on infrastructure—low-cost, ultra-high-speed Internet, provided through a municipal fiber-optic network—to help the city complete its transition from polluted industrial throwback to clean, modern tech hub. And it’s working.

The Super Ditch (p. 10) is another example of multiple governments working with private parties to forge creative solutions to joint challenges. The Super Ditch is innovating urban-agricultural water management through new public-private agreements that interrupt the old “buy and dry” strategies practiced by water-starved cities—continuing to meet municipal water demand without despoiling prime farmland.

Before we endure endless partisan bickering about whether national governments should rescue bankrupt cities, perhaps we should find a way to ensure that they don’t go bankrupt in the first place, by using the help that we’ve already promised. Only a sadist or a cynic would intentionally dangle resources out of the reach of needy people or places. If we invest only a fraction of unspent funds to build the right local capacities, communities will be able to solve their own problems. Whether it is a P4, an innovative technology tool, or a new way of working among governments and the private sector, social entrepreneurs are amplifying human ingenuity to help us overcome the biggest challenge we face: finding new ways to work together so that we do not perish alone.

An informed citizenry is an empowered one, but educating taxpayers and voters can be difficult. While most people care deeply about various community issues—such as whether to build a new library branch or provide curbside recycling—very few of us spend our limited free time paging through spreadsheets to understand the specifics of a municipal budget and the likely implications of a funding decision. This disconnect is unfortunate, because buried in those reams of data is the story of our individual communities—a map of the ways in which a single decision impacts the quality and availability of the public services we rely on in our daily lives, such as road maintenance, public education, and emergency services.

“To be fiscally strong, local governments have to be in a dialogue with residents,” says Lourdes Germán, an expert on municipal fiscal health and a fellow at the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy. “Residents have to know what key decisions are facing town officials, what those decisions mean financially, and how tax dollars are being used. All sorts of important things are up for a vote by the residents at town meetings, and often that meeting is the first time people hear about the issues, which is too late.”

Annie LaCourt agrees. A former selectman for the Town of Arlington, Massachusetts, LaCourt came up with the idea to convert the piles of spreadsheets that constitute Arlington’s municipal budget into a simple visual that could be understood by all community members, including those lacking any previous knowledge of the budgeting process.

“For Arlington, we do a five-year projection of our budget and have lots of discussions with the public around what those projections mean and how they relate to our taxes,” explains LaCourt. “I wanted to make that conversation more public, more open, and more transparent for people who want to know what’s going on.”

Specifically, she envisioned an interactive website where residents could input their individual tax bill and receive a straightforward, graphical breakdown of how the town spent the funds. She hoped that providing taxpayers with more accessible, digestible information would encourage them to engage more fully in the critical, if seemingly esoteric, decisions that go into crafting a municipal budget. LaCourt enlisted Alan Jones, Arlington’s finance committee vice-chair, and Involution Studios, a design firm that donated its services to the project. And in September 2013 the Arlington Visual Budget (arlingtonvisualbudget.org) was born.

“The Arlington Visual Budget enables taxpayers to think about the budget on a scale that is more helpful to them,” says LaCourt. “Instead of trying to understand millions of dollars’ worth of budget items, a taxpayer can look at the costs to her, individually, for specific, itemized public services. In Arlington, for example, we spent $2 million on snow removal last year, which is the most we’ve ever paid. Using the website, the resident with a $6,000 tax bill will see that he personally paid $90 for those services, which is a bargain. When you see your tax bill broken down by services, and you see that your share of the total cost for all these services is relatively low, it starts to look pretty reasonable.”

Adds Jones, “It also shows people that their taxes are going to things they don’t necessarily think about—things that people don’t see driving down the street every day but are important parts of the budget—like debt service on school buildings built 10 years ago, pension and insurance payments for retirees, or health insurance for current employees.”

Another benefit of the website is that it makes it easier to see how public policy has evolved over time. “The Arlington Visual Budget has data going back to 2008 and projections out to 2021, so citizens can really understand how the budget has changed and how that impacts them,” says Adam Langley, senior research analyst at the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy. “Taxpayers can see that state aid for general governments was cut in half from 2009 to 2010, and that it hasn’t recovered at all since then. Because of that cut, the share of Arlington’s budget funded by state aid has fallen, while the share covered by property taxes has grown from 70 percent to 76 percent. The impact of government decisions on household budgets becomes clearer.”

Brendhan Zubricki, the town administrator for Essex—a community of approximately 3,500 people roughly 26 miles north of Boston—quickly understood how the interactive budgeting tool could help local residents make an important financial decision in real time. For the past hundred years, the town has leased to private leaseholders a parcel of publicly owned seaside property known as Conomo Point. Essex relies on the approximately $500,000 in annual property taxes collected on the land to help cover its $6.4 million tax-funded budget, which doesn’t include the $7.4 million it pays to participate in two regional school districts. In May 2015, Essex taxpayers asked to vote on whether to continue leasing the land with improved public access to the prime strip of waterfront or take over the whole parcel for public use. Should residents vote in favor of a park, the land would no longer be taxable, at which point they would experience a tax increase to cover the $500,000 in lost revenue.

Zubricki turned to the visual budgeting tool to model the various tax scenarios at a town meeting that was called in advance of the vote. “The basic model was a visualization tool to help the average person understand the budget. But we took it a step further and used it to explain Essex’s financial future as it related to this one major item. It worked well. We got a lot of positive feedback from meeting attendees,” says Zubricki. Months later, in a nonbinding vote, residents overwhelmingly opted to continue leasing the land at Conomo Point and explore ways to improve access to existing waterfront parks and other public spaces (the binding vote will take place in May 2016).

In keeping with the principles of the civic technology movement—“open data, open source”—LaCourt, Jones, and the team at Involution Studios made the visual budgeting tool available to the public at no cost. Doing so enabled local government officials to repurpose the tool, free of charge, for their respective municipalities simply by incorporating their community’s budgeting data, all of which is publicly available.

“By making the software open source, Annie and Alan are really helping smaller municipalities that can’t afford a chief technology officer or a developer or a design firm, and have to balance competing concerns like whether to fund a school program or build a website,” says Germán. “These communities can use the tool by just plugging in their own data.”

Germán goes on to say that the software also helps local officials to plan better for the future. “Visual Budget enables public officials to model multiyear scenarios. Multiyear forecasting and planning is critical for fiscal health and stability, but is not necessarily available to small towns.” The site has won numerous awards, including the 2014 Innovation Award from the Massachusetts Municipal Association.

Earlier this year, LaCourt, Jones, and the Involutions Studios formed Visual Government (visgov.com) in response to growing interest in the software. Visual Government “continues the commitment to make meaningful budget presentations affordable for municipalities and civic groups of all sizes.” While the software remains available for free, Visual Government also offers a consulting package, which includes building and hosting a website, and assisting the municipality to compile past, present, and future budget data. Determined to remain affordable, the package costs $3,000 and is designed primarily for communities that lack the staff to create their own website.

“The visual budget websites aren’t high-volume sites,” says Jones. “But they are high-value sites. They show the consequences of financial decisions in a way that feels more evidence-based, and less anecdotal. We always refer to them as the ‘No Spin Zones.’”

Loren Berlin is a writer and communications consultant based in Greater Chicago.