En vista de que, en los Estados Unidos, existen más de 25.000 gobiernos municipales involucrados en el análisis y aprobación de cambios propuestos en referencia a la zonificación, planificación y desarrollo de propiedades, la cantidad de decisiones sobre el uso del suelo que se toma a nivel municipal por año probablemente ronda los millones. Si bien la gran mayoría de estas resoluciones siguen el curso normal, los cambios en el uso del suelo y la zonificación que resultan más complejos y conflictivos con frecuencia implican conflictos amargos y duraderos. El exceso de derechos de desarrollo en la región intermontañosa del oeste de los Estados Unidos (página 4) es un ejemplo de este problema tan complicado sobre el uso del suelo.

Los conflictos sobre el uso del suelo y el desarrollo inmobiliario están clasificados entre los tipos más comunes de desacuerdos civiles en los Estados Unidos y, por lo general, involucran a muchas partes, propiedades e intereses. Estos conflictos generan costos para todas las partes directamente implicadas, así como también para el público en general. Sin embargo, una larga experiencia en la resolución de conflictos sobre el uso del suelo indica que los cambios en el proceso de toma de decisiones sobre el uso del suelo pueden producir mejores resultados a un costo menor.

Los gobiernos municipales por lo general tienen una junta encargada de tomar las decisiones referentes a los cambios en el uso del suelo, para lo cual emplean un proceso de cuatro pasos. En primer lugar, la parte que desea obtener un cambio o permiso para desarrollar una propiedad debe presentar una solicitud ante dicha junta. En segundo lugar, la junta analiza la solicitud y puede requerir al solicitante respuestas adicionales o modificaciones. En tercer lugar, se da la oportunidad al público para que realice comentarios, lo que puede derivar en un diálogo más entre la junta y el solicitante, así como en nuevas modificaciones a la solicitud. Finalmente, la junta emite su decisión. Este proceso funciona bien en la mayoría de las solicitudes que se procesan con una celeridad razonable. No obstante, la junta invierte la mayor parte de su tiempo en aquellos casos, una minoría, que involucran muchos intereses y numerosos derechos que pueden superponerse o ser contradictorios o imprecisos.

El proceso típico de cuatro pasos se centra en la adjudicación de derechos; así, cuando se trata de pocas cuestiones simples y los derechos se encuentran bien definidos en relación con las propiedades en cuestión, este método funciona bien. Sin embargo, en los casos más complejos, resulta más prometedor utilizar un enfoque más amplio centrado en el beneficio mutuo de todas las partes involucradas. El enfoque de beneficio mutuo resulta más productivo cuando se dan las siguientes condiciones: existen muchas partes interesadas; la junta que toma las decisiones posee algún nivel de discreción en la decisión en particular; el impacto de la decisión es de largo plazo y largo alcance; y es probable que todo resultado que no sea colaborativo finalmente sea apelado por una o más de las partes interesadas. El enfoque de beneficio mutuo no debe considerarse como una alternativa al proceso normal de los cuatro pasos, sino como una ampliación del mismo, básicamente, mediante la suma de pasos adicionales o la ampliación de los pasos existentes en el proceso estándar.

La clave para utilizar con éxito el enfoque de beneficio mutuo es lograr descubrir los intereses subyacentes de las partes interesadas, es decir, de aquellos intereses situados tras la posición adoptada públicamente, y, luego, desarrollar nuevas opciones o soluciones que den respuesta a dichos intereses. La situación ideal se da cuando este paso tiene lugar en las primeras etapas del proceso cuando las posiciones de las partes interesadas todavía son flexibles.

Este proceso de investigación y detección es un elemento de la primera etapa del enfoque de beneficio mutuo, la cual implica identificar a las partes interesadas, escuchar atentamente sus motivos de preocupación y tomar como base sus intereses. En el proceso habitual de cuatro pasos, estas actividades probablemente tendrían lugar en una fase previa a la solicitud, en la que se considerarían los conceptos de desarrollo y diseño antes de formular las propuestas definitivas. La segunda etapa del enfoque de beneficio mutuo consiste en diseñar un proceso de colaboración que involucre a todas las partes interesadas y ofrezca oportunidades para que dichas partes compartan información y aprendan unas de otras. La tercera etapa consiste en promover un diálogo exitoso entre las partes interesadas, por lo general mediante la intermediación de un buen facilitador que logre generar relaciones y confianza entre las partes involucradas. La etapa final consiste en implementar los acuerdos que se hayan logrado, garantizando que las soluciones propuestas incluyan los acuerdos que se hayan alcanzado entre los participantes, a la vez que cumplen con los requisitos que establezca la junta encargada de tomar las decisiones.

El nuevo libro publicado por el Instituto Lincoln, Land in Conflict (Suelo en conflicto), escrito por Sean Nolon, Ona Ferguson y Pat Field, que contiene una descripción más detallada del enfoque de beneficio mutuo, junto con estudios de casos informativos. Está disponible tanto en formato impreso como electrónico.

The Lincoln Institute of Land Policy partnered with a team of nonprofit organizations and federal agencies to host the National Workshop on Large Landscape Conservation (NWLLC) on October 23 and 24, 2014, at the Ronald Reagan Building in Washington, DC. The meeting drew some 700 participants to consider how—working across the public, private, civic (NGO), and academic sectors; across disciplines; and across parcel, town, county, state, and even international boundaries—large landscape conservation practitioners could achieve creatively conceived, strategically significant, measurably effective, transferable, and enduring results on the land in this era of climate change.

The policies, practices, and case studies discussed at the NWLLC offered a broad spectrum of solutions and promising paths for enhancing wildlife conservation efforts on a regional level; substantially improving water quality and quantity across large watersheds; achieving sustainable production of food, fiber, and energy; and protecting internationally significant cultural and recreational resources. The conference organizers greatly appreciate the productive contributions of all participants—ranging from Interior Secretary Sally Jewell, Iroquois elder Sid Jamieson, and National Wildlife Federation President Collin O’Mara, to on-the-ground land managers, scientists, and project coordinators from Alaska’s Bering Strait to the Florida Keys.

A version of this article originally appeared in Expanding Horizons: Highlights from the National Workshop on Large Landscape Conservation, the complete NWLLC report. Prepared by the Lincoln Institute and three conference partners—the National Park Service Stewardship Institute, the Quebec-Labrador Foundation/Atlantic Center for the Environment, and the Practitioners’ Network for Large Landscape Conservation—the full report is available on the Practitioners’ Network website (www.largelandscapenetwork.org)

—James N. Levitt
Lincoln Institute of Land Policy and the Harvard Forest, Harvard University

Big ideas about nature and people and a new approach to conservation cascaded through the first-ever National Workshop on Large Landscape Conservation. So much happened so quickly that the usual phrases for describing heartening and enlivening events don’t fit.

A watershed event? It felt more like white-water rafting down Niagara Falls or along an Ice-Age Flood.

A coming of age? Perhaps, if what you’re thinking about is the “rocket stage” in the growth of a longleaf pine tree: the tree can spend years looking like no more than a clump of grass, although it’s been invisibly sinking a deep taproot; then, in a single season, it leaps four feet toward the sky, putting it past the reach of ground-hugging wildfires.

Variety of input? The medieval Spanish king, Alfonso the Wise, is remembered for saying that if he’d been present at the Creation, he could’ve offered some useful hints. But at the oversubscribed Large Landscape Workshop, 117 hours of experience, advice, and data had to be packed into seven sets of concurrent sessions that occupied most of the 17 hours of the conference. There were thoughtful talks and panels and carefully prepared reports and slideshows by 269 presenters from inner cities, remote rocky heights, far-flung islands, and landscapes of all types across the United States, with connections to Canada and Mexico.

Continuing momentum? Ben Franklin said on the last day of the U.S. Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia in 1787 that, after spending three months listening to back-and-forth debate and looking daily at a gilded sunburst on the back of the president’s chair, he finally had the happiness of knowing he was seeing a rising sun, not a setting one. But Secretary of the Interior Sally Jewell, one of two cabinet members to address the NWLLC audience and applaud its efforts, told a lunchtime plenary session on the very first day: “This room is bursting with vision. You will be pioneers of landscape-level understanding, as Teddy Roosevelt was of conservation a century ago. Let’s make it happen!”

Landscape-level conservation—the term is still relatively new—is a different way of making sense of the world, and of assessing and nurturing its health. It steps beyond the laudable but limited 20th-century practice of designating reserves and cleaning up pollution. Taking a wide-angle, big-picture view of things, it sees every landscape, designated or not, as an intricately connected network of living beings sustained by a wide-ranging community of people. Landscape-level conservation has been reenergizing and broadening the environmental movement. And as its perspective is adopted, the first thing that grows is not necessarily the size of the property to be protected, but the possibility for actions, some large, some small, that will make a lasting difference for the future of the biosphere and its inhabitants, including humanity.

Many of these inaugural projects were on display in the workshop presentations and in the 34 posters that adorned the vast Reagan Building atrium. At times, the workshop felt like an enormous bazaar, displaying programs, concepts, research findings, explorations, cooperative agreements, and other early successes, as well as questions to ponder. Unexpected jewels, efforts hitherto known only to small groups, gleamed brightly in corners and were freely offered to all.

Yellowstone-to-Yukon, known as “Y2Y,” is perhaps the granddaddy of citizen-generated large-landscape projects—an idea for a connected, binational wildland corridor 2,000 miles long, from Yellowstone National Park north to the Alaskan border along the world’s last intact mountain ecosystem. At the NWLLC, Y2Y was literally coming of age, celebrating its 21st birthday. In 1993, only 12 percent of this 321-million-acre landscape had been conserved, but by 2013 the total had surged to 52 percent.

National Heritage Areas, honoring this country’s history and achievements, are even more well-established: the program embraces tens of millions of acres, including the entire state of Tennessee. It has just turned 30.

Y2Y has inspired plans for “H2H”—a 50-mile corridor of land that has been identified as a “resilient landscape,” just beyond the affluent northern suburbs of New York City, stretching from the Housatonic River, in Connecticut, to the Hudson River, in New York. Once protected, it could dramatically slow the effects of climate change.

The Staying Connected Initiative—a coalition of Canadians and Americans working across 80 million acres of forested land in four provinces and four states anchored by northern New England (a landscape the size of Germany)—calls itself “the very young cousin to Y2Y that, 15 years from now, they’ll call its northeast equivalent.”

Shortly before the workshop began, an Oregon county sewerage agency began adding trees and shrubs to the meandering banks of the 80-mile-long Tualatin River west of Portland, Oregon, to keep the fish in the river cool; it will have planted a million of them by World Environment Day on June 5, 2015.

The effect, workshop participants told me during breaks (there were a few), was somehow both exhilarating and sobering. Landscape-level conservation is hope-propelled rather than fear-accelerated. It’s a banding together in the face of grave environmental threats of extinctions and degradation. By widening our horizons, the focus shifts from salvage operations to the astounding number of things that can and need to be undertaken to restore, replenish, safeguard, protect, and celebrate the long-term integrity of this gigantic continent’s astonishing natural and cultural heritage.

When human ancestors first stood upright millions of years ago and could see over the tall savanna grasses of East Africa, their world went in an instant from being about 20-to-30 feet wide to something like 20-to-30 miles wide. This redefined what was practical, necessary, and possible to think about. In a similar fashion, scaling up or accelerating our own awareness of conservation to the landscape level is a useful way of dealing with the ever-proliferating complexities of modern America, a country of 320 million people that within half a century will have 400 million.

It’s a country where, the last half-century of science tells us, existing conservation methods aren’t enough to protect these places properly—in part because plants and animals move across lines drawn on a map and because, as these places become more isolated, former inhabitants can’t move back in again, either for full-time or part-time residence. Even high-flying Alaskan shorebirds, which winter in Mexico or China or New Zealand, are finding their round-trips impeded by oil spills in San Francisco Bay and invasive mangroves in New Zealand; Tom Tidwell, chief of the United States Forest Service, calls birds, bats, and butterflies the “winged messengers” of landscape-scale conservation. In recent years, we’ve also seen that, though maps and land designations remain stationary, places may soon be on the move in their entirety, as climate change nudges one ecosystem aside and draws in another.

Perhaps mapping itself is finally entering a non-Euclidean, or post-Jeffersonian, phase. For almost 230 years—ever since 1785, when Thomas Jefferson, even before the Constitutional Convention, suggested that geometry should trump topography for surveying what were called the “vacant lands” west of the Appalachians—we’ve had the “Jeffersonian grid,” still inescapably seen from the windows of any transcontinental flight in the way roads and fields are laid out. This grid used the otherwise invisible (and only recently computed) lines of longitude and latitude to partition the landscape into square-mile “sections” for property lines that ignored ecosystems, watersheds, and even mountain chains. It created a right-angled reality for settlers moving west to set up towns, unencumbered by what they were inheriting—the natural organization of the landscape and the age-old ways and knowledge of its previous human inhabitants.

Banding together. If working across more of the land is something that follows the realization that there’s more to the land (and beneath it and above it), the new conservation equation places as much emphasis on the who part of the work as it does on the what of it. In yet another departure from traditional practices, another thing to grow is the number and kinds of people who need to get behind any landscape-scale project. The entire process, said Dan Ashe, director of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, relies on “epic collaboration,” which became the workshop’s most frequently repeated phrase. Epic resonated because it spoke of reaching across so many divides. “De-railers” was another popular workshop word:

Private landowners partnering with public-land managers. The migration path of the pronghorn antelope, which traverses both public and private land, has been protected, but it’s the last of what were seven such corridors, and the others have all been expunged. Working with 953 ranchers across 11 Western states, the National Resources Conservation Service’s Sage Grouse Initiative has moved or marked with white plastic tags 537 miles of barbed-wire fences, so these low-flying birds won’t impale themselves. “I work with the hopefuls, not the hatefuls,” one rancher said.

Private landowners partnering with their next owners. Tens of millions of acres of farms and ranches will change hands within the next 20 years, along with more than 200 million acres of “family forests.” The average age of a forest landowner is 62½, and “affinity to the land,” one commentator pointed out, “can be harder to pass along than a legal deed.”

Public-land managers working with other public-land managers. Too many sister agencies have longstanding habits of treating each other as disdained step-sisters, or they function like the three Gray Sisters in Greek myths, sharing a single eye. Over the last 30 years, the Bureau of Land Management has developed a Visual Resource Management (VRM) system for evaluating intrusions on lands in the West that includes listing scenic qualities at various distances from Key Observation Points (KOPs). But VRM methods have not yet made it back East, where the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission tends to approve without question all proposals for new gas pipelines and electric-transmission corridors, even if they might affect views from a National Historic Landmark such as Montpelier, the Virginia estate surrounded by old-growth forest where James Madison drafted an outline for the U.S. Constitution.

Other disparities yet to be bridged. Eighty-five percent of Americans live in urban areas, leading to a generation of kids who have “walked only on asphalt.” Within the workshop, most presenters were male—engaged in “mansplaining,” as one woman said. Another participant was shocked to find the conference so “overwhelmingly white.” Dr. Mamie Parker, retired assistant director of the Fish and Wildlife Service (the first African-American woman in that position), was a plenary speaker who got a sustained ovation equaled only by Secretary Jewell’s. “For many years,” Dr. Parker said, “we’ve been stuck, stalled, and scared of nontraditional partnerships. Fear has kept us from reaching out to people who want to feel respected, to know that they’re a valued member of the team.”

“Change happens at the rate of trust,” said one workshop participant. “I don’t think we’ve tested the trust yet,” said another. It’s abundantly clear that, from here on out, successful conservation is going to need a lot of successful conversations, many of which might be awkward at first. It will be a challenging stretch—standing upright brought human ancestors out of their comfort zone; a sense of belonging to other tribes is something we’re still working on.

City People, a groundbreaking book by the historian Gunther Barth, showed how 20th-century American cities became cohesive places because of late-19th-century inventions: millions of small-town Americans and Eastern European immigrants learned how to live and work together thanks to apartment houses, department stores, newspapers (which gave them the same information base), and baseball parks (which taught them the rules of competition and cooperation). Public libraries and public parks could be added to the list.

Baltimore’s Masonville Cove, the country’s first Urban Wildlife Refuge Partnership, launched in 2013, is perhaps a new kind of public library for the large-landscape era. A waterfront neighborhood in the southernmost part of town—torn up after World War II for a harbor tunnel thruway, and littered with abandoned industrial sites that have regenerated and then been rediscovered by 52 species of birds—the Masonville Cove Urban Wilderness Conservation Area now offers classes taught by staffers from the National Aquarium about the Chesapeake Bay and its 64,000 square-mile watershed (the size of 18½ Yellowstones). There are also field trips, walking trails, a kayak launch, and opportunities to help clean up charred debris, which may date back to the Great Baltimore Fire of 1904.

Nationally, landscape-scale conservation has an informal and unofficial steering committee—the Practitioners’ Network for Large Landscape Conservation, an alliance of government land managers, land trusts, academics, citizens, and national nonprofits who save lands and protect species. And officially, as the result of an early Obama administration initiative, there’s now a nationwide underpinning to the work: a network of federal fact-finders and conveners, organized as 22 Landscape Conservation Cooperatives. The LCCs don’t own anything or run anything, nor do they issue regulations, but they generate and compile reliable scientific data about all of the country’s landscapes (and many of the adjoining landscapes in Canada and Mexico), creating a shared information base. They necessarily cover a lot of ground and water (one LCC takes in both Hawaii and American Samoa, 4,000 miles to the west). And they bring a lot of people together; each LCC has at least 30 partners who represent separate government agencies, nonprofits, and tribal governments.

What’s next? That was the question asked over and over, with excitement and urgency, in the building’s sprawling, mall-length hallways. There were those buoyed by a recent survey showing that Americans think 50 percent of the planet should be protected for other species (Brazilians say 70 percent). Some foresee a seamless continental system of interlocked large landscapes, and the establishment of an international peace park on the U.S.–Mexico border to complement the one set up in 1932 across the U.S.–Canada boundary. There were, on the other hand, those in anguish who see all efforts falling short, confining North Americans to a continent with more development, less biodiversity, and fewer wolves, salmon, and spotted owls. There were those who thought that, at the next national workshop, partnership must be made an official part of the proceedings, built into the planning of sessions, into their presentations, and into follow-up discussions and initiatives.

What is next? People may need to take some time to assimilate the ascendancy of a new insight, a permanent expansion in the perception of landscapes. No more NIMBY (“Not In My Backyard”); there’s only one backyard (OBY), and it’s our care and delight, our inheritance and responsibility.

When you gain a new capacity, where will you set your sights? If someone gives you a telescope, what will you look at first?

About the Author

Tony Hiss was a New Yorker staff writer for more than 30 years and is now a visiting scholar at New York University. He is the author of 13 books, including The Experience of Place and, most recently, In Motion: The Experience of Travel.

Una versión más actualizada de este artículo está disponible como parte del capítulo 4 del libro Perspectivas urbanas: Temas críticos en políticas de suelo de América Latina.

En los últimos cinco años el Instituto Lincoln ha respaldado el estudio de las políticas e instrumentos de recuperación de plusvalías en muchos países latinoamericanos. Pese a la diversidad de enfoques y la variedad de casos específicos, hemos podido identificar siete lecciones preponderantes que pueden ayudar a aclarar parte de la confusión y los conceptos errados que se asocian con la implementación de los principios de recuperación de plusvalías. Cada lección resumida más adelante presenta uno o dos ejemplos tomados de libro Recuperación de Plusvalías en América Latina: Alternativas para el Desarrollo Urbano.

La recuperación de plusvalías se refiere al proceso por el cual el sector público recupera la totalidad o una porción de los incrementos en el valor del suelo atribuibles a los “esfuerzos comunitarios” más que a las acciones de los propietarios. La recuperación de estos “incrementos inmerecidos” puede hacerse indirectamente mediante su conversión en ingresos públicos en forma de impuestos, contribuciones, exacciones y otros mecanismos fiscales, o directamente mediante mejoras locales para beneficio de la comunidad por entero.

1. El concepto de recuperación de plusvalías no es nuevo en América Latina. La experiencia latinoamericana en este campo tiene largos años de precedentes históricos. En varios países los debates públicos sobre el uso de la recuperación de plusvalías e instrumentos asociados comenzaron a principios del siglo XX. En los años de 1920, el debate surgió por acontecimientos concretos, como el problema de la pavimentación de las calles en São Paulo, Brasil y la falta de financiamiento externo para obras públicas necesarias en Colombia. En otros casos, los factores políticos e ideológicos han motivado discusiones de alcance nacional. Los representantes del Partido Radical en Chile intentaron introducir la idea en varias ocasiones y en los años 1930 el Presidente Aguirre Cerda propuso una ley para crear un impuesto nacional sobre las plusvalías (incrementos en el valor del suelo) con fundamento en las ideas de Henry George.

2. No obstante, sigue siendo limitada su aplicación en los planes de política urbana. A pesar de los numerosos informes sobre experiencias pertinentes que integran los principios de la recuperación de plusvalías, el tema no están bien representado ni ha ganado suficiente reconocimiento dentro de la esfera de las políticas urbanas. En algunos casos, han surgido valiosas iniciativas para la recuperación de plusvalías que han cobrado notoriedad en su momento, sólo para quedar olvidadas más tarde. Un ejemplo destacado es el conocido Informe Lander en Venezuela durante los años 1960, en el cual se proponía que el suelo y los incrementos de su valor debían ser la fuente principal de financiamiento para los proyectos de desarrollo urbano. Sentaba las bases para recomendaciones sobre las finanzas del desarrollo urbano incluidas en las deliberaciones de la cumbre Habitat I (1976).

En otros casos, se están perdiendo o desestimando oportunidades interesantes para usar la recuperación de plusvalías como una herramienta de las políticas urbanas. Actualmente algunos países de América Latina no están aprovechando los posibles incrementos del valor del suelo generados por grandes proyectos de renovación en los cascos urbanos. Aunque está generalmente aceptada la noción de recuperación de plusvalías, en realidad es poco lo que efectivamente se ha recuperado y redistribuido de los incrementos del valor del suelo derivados de las acciones urbanísticas.

3. A menudo existe la legislación, sólo que no se aplica. Como en muchos otros países de la región, la variedad de los instrumentos de recuperación de plusvalías existentes en México –desde la contribución por mejoras (una tasación especial o gravamen por mejora dirigido a recuperar los costos de las obras públicas), hasta los impuestos sobre las plusvalías– ilustra la discrepancia entre lo que es legalmente posible y lo que verdaderamente se implementa. Contrario a lo que suele aducirse, el problema general no radica en que los planificadores o funcionarios públicos carezcan de acceso legal o práctico a estos instrumentos, sino que tienden a prevalecer las siguientes condiciones:

• Con frecuencia se concibe y diseña la legislación y los instrumentos –algunas veces adrede– de una manera tan confusa y contradictoria que prácticamente paralizan toda iniciativa de política operativa. Por ejemplo, la ley nacional de expropiaciones de 1947 estipula un impuesto del 75% de los incrementos del valor del suelo resultantes de obras públicas, mientras que la constitución municipal general (Ley Orgánica de Régimen Municipal) limita el impuesto al 5% del valor total de la propiedad en cuestión. En realidad, ni siquiera se recauda este pequeño gravamen.
• Incluso cuando la ley hace posible la recuperación de plusvalías, puede ser difícil de interpretar. Por ejemplo, el debate entre juristas eminentes en los años 1970 en Brasil con respecto a la constitucionalidad de la legislación de “Solo Criado” (un instrumento basado en la separación del suelo y los derechos de construcción) reflejó una falta fundamental de comprensión de los antecedentes legales de la recuperación de plusvalías y sus correspondientes instrumentos.
• No siempre se conocen bien las posibilidades que ofrece la ley, ni siquiera en sus respectivos países. Este parece ser el caso en México, donde el impuesto tradicional a la propiedad en la ciudad de Mexicali, basado en el valor combinado del suelo y las construcciones, fue reemplazado con éxito por un impuesto basado exclusivamente en el valor del suelo (Perló 1999). Otras ciudades mexicanas no parecen estar enteradas de disposiciones similares en la legislación de sus estados o no las han aprovechado.

4. La resistencia obedece más a la ideología que a la lógica. Incluso cuando se entienden la legislación y los instrumentos para la recuperación de plusvalías –o en algunos casos justamente porque se entienden–, es posible que no puedan implementarse a cabalidad debido a la manifiesta “falta de voluntad política”. Esta resistencia puede tomar la forma de interpretaciones engañosas, racionalizaciones estereotipadas y hasta “prédicas” puramente ideológicas.

Resulta sencillo encontrar justificación pública de que la aplicación de tales instrumentos es inoportuna o inapropiada, especialmente si la justificación se basa en interpretaciones engañosas. Algunos de estos argumentos sostienen que las imposiciones sobre el valor del suelo son inflacionarias y alteran el buen funcionamiento de los mercados, o que provocan una doble tributación inaceptable de la misma base. Estos conceptos erróneos parecen hallarse detrás de la renuencia que muestra el Ministerio de Vivienda y Urbanismo de Chile para promover la revisión y reintroducción ante el Congreso de algunas disposiciones sobre la recuperación de plusvalías en el nuevo marco legal de urbanismo del país.

Las objeciones basadas en racionalizaciones estereotipadas pueden recurrir a los siguientes argumentos:

• los ingresos correspondientes no son significativos o no están justificados al compararlos con los costos administrativos causados;
• las administraciones públicas no serían competentes en términos de recursos técnicos y humanos; o
• la aplicación de los instrumentos de recuperación de plusvalías sería antisocial y regresiva, ya que la población pobre, que tiene la mayor necesidad de nuevas obras de infraestructura urbana, posee la menor capacidad de pago.

No obstante, en oposición a estos argumentos, están los programas participativos de mejoras que se han llevado a cabo con éxito en áreas pobres de muchas ciudades (por ejemplo, en Chile, Brasil y Perú). Estos programas han sido eficaces técnica y económicamente y por lo general han contado con un apoyo sólido de la población de bajos ingresos afectada.

Finalmente, algunas objeciones son de índole netamente ideológica. Por ejemplo, la resistencia a la implementación de la participación en plusvalías en Colombia se basa en la aseveración de que este mecanismo, si bien se reconoce que tiene una buena formulación técnica, representa una forma más de “interferencia” pública indeseable en el negocio inmobiliario urbano, como lo son una mayor carga fiscal, limitaciones de los derechos de propiedad o más regulación (Barco de Botero y Smolka, 2000). Esta posición ha quedado sustituida recientemente por un amplio consenso entre los políticos, líderes empresariales y el público general de que la aceptación de este instrumento es una mejor opción que la exigencia de otros impuestos a la propiedad.

5. La recuperación de plusvalías se va haciendo cada vez más popular. A pesar de los obstáculos y la resistencia política, la experiencia reciente en América Latina con la recuperación de plusvalías muestra un creciente interés en el tema y en las condiciones que justificarían su utilización. Atrae la atención de planificadores municipales en toda la región y comienza a percibirse como una iniciativa importante de las políticas urbanas. Esta popularidad creciente está vinculada a varios factores que se presentan en la región.

En primer lugar, una mayor descentralización administrativa y fiscal exige más autonomía para redefinir y obtener fuentes alternativas de fondos públicos para financiar el proceso de urbanización. La necesidad de más recursos locales se ha visto acentuada por las demandas sociales y las presiones políticas asociadas con los actuales procesos de redemocratización y el mayor grado de participación popular. La generación de fondos no presupuestados requeridos para financiar programas sociales especiales está vinculada a casi todas las nuevas iniciativas de recuperación de plusvalías y ha sido una de las razones más poderosas para implementar dichas políticas.

En segundo lugar, la redefinición de las funciones del estado (incluida la privatización), en conjunto con la disminución de la planificación integral, ha dado pie a la materialización de intervenciones públicas más flexibles y negociaciones directas sobre la regulación del uso del suelo y las alianzas entre los sectores público y privado. También cobra significación la apertura de áreas públicas al mercado inmobiliario privado, así como una mejor coordinación entre los intereses de los propietarios privados y el sector público con miras a fomentar nuevas áreas en las ciudades. Cabe destacar que incluso en Cuba encontramos un programa pujante mediante el cual la Oficina del Historiador de la Ciudad de La Habana, que funciona como una suerte de compañía inmobiliaria, refinancia las operaciones del estado con los incrementos del valor del suelo provenientes de proyectos de rehabilitación urbana en forma de impuestos cobrados a los “socios” privados en las obras de desarrollo (Núñez, Brown y Smolka, 2000).

Otros factores favorables incluyen las condiciones estipuladas por los planes de los organismos multilaterales, que claramente promueven la universalización de los gravámenes al usuario y la recuperación de los costos de las inversiones públicas. La creciente popularidad de los nuevos instrumentos de recuperación de plusvalías también puede atribuirse a cierta frustración causada por los resultados mediocres que se obtuvieron en décadas anteriores con la aplicación de impuestos y otras contribuciones tradicionales relacionadas con el suelo urbano, en cuanto a los ingresos y los objetivos de las políticas urbanas.

6. El pragmatismo prevalece sobre las justificaciones éticas o teóricas. Como corolario al punto anterior tenemos que la creciente popularidad de la recuperación de plusvalías parece inspirarse más en razones fundamentalmente pragmáticas que en criterios éticos, nociones de igualdad o justificaciones teóricas o políticas. Algunas reformas tal vez se han introducido sin plena conciencia política del proceso, o de su importancia teórica, como se ilustró anteriormente en el caso de Mexicali. Los indicios históricos muestran que en su mayoría las iniciativas de recuperación de plusvalías han respondido más que todo a la necesidad de enfrentar las crisis fiscales y otros problemas locales en el financiamiento del desarrollo urbano. Es el mismo caso que ocurre en Argentina, donde la necesidad de ingresos predominó sobre los principios establecidos que se oponían a nuevos impuestos cuando se recurrió a un aumento provisional del 5% en el impuesto a la propiedad como una de las iniciativas para financiar las inversiones en el nuevo sistema de subterráneo de Buenos Aires.

No obstante, no debería darse por sentado a partir de los ejemplos anteriores que la acumulación de experiencia no es importante para el perfeccionamiento de instrumentos y la evolución de las políticas de recuperación de plusvalías. Un caso pertinente es la experiencia colombiana con la contribución de valorización desde los años 1920 y los innumerables intentos para resolver algunas de sus limitaciones, especialmente en los últimos 40 años. La participación en plusvalías promulgada recientemente es una versión de mayor logro técnico y políticamente aceptable de un instrumento dirigido a recuperar los incrementos –en ocasiones enormes– del valor del suelo asociados con las decisiones administrativas con respecto a la zonificación, niveles de densidad y otras normas y regulaciones urbanísticas.

7. La recuperación de plusvalías no es necesariamente progresiva o redistributiva. Es necesario señalar que de ninguna manera la referencia a las plusvalías es un monopolio de la izquierda política. Las experiencias recientes de Argentina y Chile indican claramente la disposición hacia el tema en contextos neoliberales. Además, las operacões interligadas (operaciones interligadas), desarrolladas en São Paulo y aplicadas con efectividad por administradores con tendencias políticas e ideológicas opuestas, fungieron como argumento convincente de la imposibilidad de etiquetar estos instrumentos a priori.

Los gobiernos locales progresistas, por otra parte, a veces son renuentes a utilizar estos instrumentos, y hasta pueden rechazar de un todo la noción, por tres razones: Primero, es posible que crean que tales contribuciones serían un mero mecanismo para imponer nuevos gravámenes fiscales sin ningún efecto redistributivo. Segundo, incluso cuando los ingresos generados se destinen a la población de bajos ingresos, pueden resultar insuficientes para reducir las diferencias entre ricos y pobres en lo concerniente al acceso al suelo urbanizado (Furtado 2000). Tercero, el argumento intergeneracional de que tales gravámenes se imponen a los residentes más nuevos –generalmente pobres– que necesitan servicios, mientras que las generaciones anteriores no pagaron por servicios de infraestructura o instalaciones recreativas.

De tal modo, la naturaleza progresista de dichas políticas no se resuelve “creando impuestos” sobre los incrementos del valor del suelo ni tampoco apuntando hacia los contribuyentes de altos ingresos. La imagen de Robin Hood de tales políticas se diluye en cuanto queda claro que la parte del valor realmente recuperada de esta manera tiende a ser sólo una fracción –a menudo pequeña– de lo que el propietario recibe en realidad en beneficios. Este punto parece haber sido bien entendido por muchas poblaciones de bajos ingresos, como las de Lima, donde un programa exitoso que comprendía unos 30 proyectos se valió de la contribución de mejoras para financiar obras públicas a principios de la década de 1990.

Este ejemplo y otros indicios fuertes confirman la necesidad de reconsiderar las nociones convencionales sobre la tensión que existe entre los principios de beneficio y la capacidad de pago. En la práctica, la estrategia de atraer cierta intervención pública hacia nuestro vecindario (incluso si ello implica pagar su costo) es más ventajosa que la alternativa de quedar relegado. Sin embargo, este punto debería tratarse con cautela, a la luz de ciertas experiencias en las que se ha aplicado la contribución de mejoras en áreas de bajos ingresos con fines distintos al beneficio de los ocupantes; por ejemplo, para justificar el desalojo o provocar la partida de aquellos residentes que no pueden pagar las mejoras (Everett 1999).

Consideraciones finales

A pesar de las dificultades de interpretación y resistencia a la implementación descrita más arriba, las políticas de recuperación de plusvalías sin duda están despertando nuevo interés y logrando mayor aceptación. Los esfuerzos para utilizar la recuperación de plusvalías se han multiplicado en número y creatividad y sus virtudes, aparte de ser una fuente alternativa de financiamiento público, se entienden cada vez más. Los funcionarios de la administración pública se están dando cuenta del “valor de mercado” de su competencia privativa para controlar los derechos de uso del suelo, así como para definir la ubicación y fecha adecuada de las obras públicas. Asimismo ven que la negociación transparente del uso del suelo y las relaciones de densidad reducen el margen de transacciones que solían realizarse “por debajo de la mesa”. Como el vínculo entre la intervención pública y el incremento del valor del suelo se hace cada vez más notorio, las actitudes están cambiando para hacerse más favorables a la creación de una cultura fiscal que fortalezca los impuestos a la propiedad y los ingresos locales en general.

Sin embargo, todavía queda mucho por hacer en ambas esferas: investigar la naturaleza compleja de las políticas de recuperación de plusvalías y promover un mayor entendimiento por parte de los funcionarios públicos de la manera en que pueden usarse para beneficiar a sus respectivas comunidades. Es indispensable conocer mejor ciertas idiosincrasias latinoamericanas, como cuando los incrementos significativos del valor del suelo se generan bajo regímenes alternativos de tenencia de la tierra que no gozan de la protección del estado, y en casos en que el suelo representa un importante mecanismo de capitalización para los pobres.

Más allá de las limitaciones tradicionales estructurales de patrimonialismo, corrupción, intereses velados, insensibilidad ideológica y demás, una parte considerable de la “variación inexplicable” en las diferentes experiencias con la recuperación de plusvalías en América Latina puede atribuirse a la falta de información. Con el fin de mejorar la comprensión de los principios e implementación de la recuperación de plusvalías, quedan muchas oportunidades para documentar y analizar las experiencias actuales con valoración alternativa del suelo y los instrumentos impositivos.

Martim Smolka es miembro principal y director del Programa para América Latina y el Caribe del Instituto Lincoln, y Fernanda Furtado es miembro del Instituto y profesora del Programa de Posgrado en Urbanismo de la Universidad Federal de Río de Janeiro.

Una versión más actualizada de este artículo está disponible como parte del capítulo 1 del libro Perspectivas urbanas: Temas críticos en políticas de suelo de América Latina.

Una serie de tendencias convergentes llevaron a 40 académicos y profesionales de 15 países a reunirse en el Instituto Lincoln en julio de 1998 para discutir recientes reformas de los mercados de tierra. La primera de ellas es el reconocimiento de que la población mundial se está volviendo cada vez más urbana y en consecuencia se puede esperar que la cantidad de tierra convertida al uso urbano aumente significativamente. Segundo, la evidencia de que una mayor proporción de las familias más pobres del mundo viven actualmente en áreas urbanas (en el orden del 80% en Latinoamérica). Tercero, la percepción de una ola de cambio general en el papel del gobierno, de una posición de intervención y regulación hacia una gerencia urbana más selectiva. Durante los tres días del seminario, los participantes presentaron trabajos y discutieron la lógica de ciertas reformas legales e institucionales, la naturaleza de la transición de los mercados consuetudinarios o informales a formales, la evidencia de una mayor eficacia en el mercado de tierra y el acceso a la tierra por parte de los sectores pobres.

La Reforma Institucional y Legal

Varios participantes abogaron por la reforma institucional de los mercados de la tierra desde diversas perspectivas. Steve Mayo (Instituto Lincoln) identificó vínculos conceptuales y empíricos entre el funcionamiento de los mercados de la propiedad y la macroeconomía. Hizo notar que los mercados de la tierra que funcionan inadecuadamente influyen en la creación de riqueza y los porcentajes de movilidad, los cuales — en presencia de ciertas condiciones financieras — pueden agravar la inestabilidad macroeconómica. Refiriéndose a datos del Programa de Indicadores de la Vivienda, Mayo demostró que los precios de la tierra bruta y la tierra dotada de servicios tienden a converger hacia precios más altos de la tierra, indicando multiplicadores de desarrollo más altos a los precios más bajos. También destacó la presencia de una relación entre la elasticidad de los precios de la oferta de la vivienda y el ambiente político.

Aunque existe una percepción de que las reformas hacia ambientes de “capacitación” política son ampliamente empleadas en las economías en transición y desarrollo, Alain Durand-Lasserve (Centro Nacional para la Investigación Científica, Francia) observó la falta de referencia explícita a la “reforma del mercado de la tierra” en las propuestas de políticas en África. Más aún, sostuvo que la justificación ideológica de una mayor libertad en los mercados de la tierra está más avanzada que la práctica de establecer los prerequisitos para mercados efectivos y unitarios. En la práctica, varios de los trabajos presentados señalaron la presencia de agendas políticas conflictivas, ambigüedad legal y distintos grados de progreso en los procesos de reforma.

“La ley puede reformarse, la historia no”, dijo Patrick McAuslan (Birbeck College, Londres) al discutir el papel de las leyes como base necesaria para la reforma efectiva del mercado de la tierra. Describió la evolución de la recién aprobada Acta de la Tierra de Uganda, que busca establecer un mercado de la tierra basado en la propiedad individual. Felicitó al gobierno por combinar el proceso de reforma con un amplio debate público, pero apuntó que las versiones preliminares del Acta establecieron nuevas contradicciones en una historia secular de relaciones conflictivas entre la propiedad absoluta, la tenencia consuetudinaria y la nacionalización pública de tierras. Su trabajo enumeró una serie de “bombas de tiempo” dejadas por las administraciones coloniales y agravadas por los gobiernos posteriores a la independencia, de las cuales sólo unas pocas han sido tomadas en cuenta por la nueva legislación.

La inconsistente naturaleza de la reforma parece agudizarse en las economías de transición de Europa Oriental y África del Sur. En Europa Oriental, el legado del comunismo ha conducido a usos inadecuados de la tierra y a la asignación de valores no monetarios a la propiedad. Los cambios legales hacia la privatización de la tierra, sin embargo, han sido lentos. Tom Reiner (Universidad de Pennsylvania) argumentó que a pesar de la propuesta de normas a favor de la privatización y la demanda latente en Ucrania, las leyes actuales no contemplan provisiones para la venta libre. Presentó datos demostrando que la privatización produciría beneficios macroeconómicos y fiscales considerables: tan sólo los ingresos por ventas directas alcanzarían los 13 billones de dólares, además de los aumentos en los impuestos y la asignación más eficaz de recursos.

En Rusia, según Jan Brzeski (Instituto de Bienes Raíces de Cracovia), la emergencia de los mercados de la tierra ha sido inhibida por una concepción diferente del papel social de la propiedad y los territorios políticos. En Polonia, donde la privatización está mas avanzada, las reformas han sido insuficientes para superar la extendida asignación errónea de recursos. La asignación ha sido efectuada a precios simbólicos, sin reformas a las rentas de terrenos o los impuestos a la propiedad, y con altos costos de transacción. Aún así, el ciclo de compra y venta se está acelerando más rápidamente que el crecimiento económico, en tanto que las reventas representan cerca del 25% de la inversión de capital.

El programa de privatización de 1991 en Albania parece haber estimulado un mercado activo de tierras y propiedades. Investigaciones efectuadas por David Stanfield (Universidad de Wisconsin, Madison) indican que ha habido sustanciales aumentos en las transacciones de compra y venta y en el incremento de los precios, pero también extensos conflictos entre los propietarios anteriores a la colectivización y los posteriores a la privatización, contradicciones entre las numerosas leyes y errores en la nueva documentación. La investigación señala la facilidad relativa de establecer marcos para la privatización, y la gran dificultad de permitir que los mercados funcionen posteriormente.

Lusugga Kironde (Colegio Universitario de Estudios de Arquitectura y Tierras de Tanzanía) describió cómo descuidos en el sistema “planificado” de asignación en Tanzanía llevaron al 60% de la población a adquirir tierras a través de métodos informales. Esto, a su vez, disminuyó los ingresos del gobierno, ya que las transacciones se efectuaron sin aprobación oficial y, en algunos casos, familias con buena situación económica recibieron terrenos altamente subsidiados. Michael Roth (Universidad de Wisconsin, Madison) describió una situación similar en Mozambique, donde el legado del socialismo estatal todavía está presente en el nivel de intervención del gobierno y en la falta de representación de la propiedad libre.

En ambos países africanos, la evaluación de la reforma resultó ambivalente. La Nueva Política de Tierras de Tanzania (1995), si bien constituyó un paso exitoso hacia la aceptación de la existencia del mercado de la tierra y el aseguramiento de los terrenos ocupados en forma consuetudinaria, ha resultado insuficiente para remover las barreras a un mercado eficaz de la tierra. En particular, Kironde destacó que las nuevas medidas concentran la toma de decisiones en un Comisionado de Tierras a pesar de una política nacional de descentralización administrativa. La política no ofrece incentivos para estimular la formalización de prácticas informales o asegurar su acatamiento por parte de los importantes intermediarios. En Mozambique, desde finales de los años ’80, las reformas orientadas al desarrollo de mercados han resultado en responsabilidades administrativas confusas y en inciertos derechos a la tierra. Han sido características las disputas de tierras entre familias y asociaciones productoras con nuevos poderes legales. Las reformas de 1997 intentan garantizar la seguridad de la propiedad, suministrar incentivos a la inversión e incorporar ideas innovadoras sobre los derechos comunitarios a la tierra.

En Latinoamérica, la reforma se ha concentrado menos en el establecimiento de mercados de por sí que en la mejora de su funcionamiento, especialmente las reformas de la tierra iniciadas por motivos principalmente rurales pero que han tenido gran impacto urbano. Rosaria Pisa (Universidad de Gales) indicó que las reformas en México han creado las condiciones necesarias para la privatización de tierras comunitarias (ejidos), pero que el progreso ha sido lento. Menos del 1% de la tierra ha sido privatizada en cinco años, a causa de intereses dispares del gobierno y ambigüedades legales que han establecido un segundo mercado informal de la tierra.

Carlos Guarinzoli, del Instituto Nacional de Colonización y Reforma Agraria (INCRA) en Brasil, explicó que la reforma rural ha introducido la diversidad en el uso de la tierra, especialmente a través de la supervivencia de las pequeñas granjas familiares. La reforma también está afectando los mercados urbanos en Brasil, al trasladar capital de las áreas rurales a las áreas urbanas, probablemente incrementando los precios de la tierra urbana. Francisco Sabatini (Universidad Católica de Chile) argumentó que la liberalización en Chile no ha reducido los precios de la tierra porque las decisiones de los propietarios y promotores están menos influenciadas por las regulaciones que por la demanda.

En general, no se llegó a un consenso claro acerca de si las reformas estaban produciendo mercados unitarios y menos diversos o no. Los agentes y las instituciones están mostrando ser muy adaptables a las nuevas condiciones, una circunstancia común a las tres regiones. Ayse Pamuk (Universidad de Virginia) planteó que, en base a su análisis de instituciones informales en Trinidad, los investigadores deben alejarse de las regulaciones formales como barreras a la operación del mercado de la tierra. En cambio, deben considerar la forma en que instituciones sociales tales como la confianza y la reciprocidad producen soluciones flexibles a la falta de seguridad de la tenencia y a la resolución de disputas.

Clarissa Fourie (Universidad de Natal) describió la forma en que los registros locales de propiedad han podido combinarse, de manera cómoda para el usuario, con los registros de matrimonio, herencias, derechos de la mujer y deudas para producir un instrumento útil a la administración de tierras en Namibia. Sin embargo, aclaró, la incorporación de prácticas consuetudinarias a la administración de tierras, a fin de dotar de seguridad a la propiedad, requiere un cierto grado de adaptación de los sistemas sociales de tenencia de la tierra. Refiriéndose a investigaciones en Senegal y África del Sur, Babette Wehrmann de la fundación alemana GTZ, indicó que los agentes informales y consuetudinarios están multiplicándose y sirviendo como fuentes de alta calidad de información sobre el mercado.

La Formalización y la Regularización de la Tenencia de la Tierra

Peter Ward (Universidad de Texas, Austin) describió la diversidad de programas de regularización a través de Latinoamérica, donde ciertos países consideran la regularización como un proceso jurídico y otros como mejoramiento físico. La regularización puede ser un fin en sí misma (programas masivos de adjudicación de títulos), o un medio hacia un fin (desarrollar los sistemas de crédito). Ward discutió que las diferencias entre los programas se originan a partir de la forma en que cada gobierno “construye” su proceso de urbanización y transmite esta visión al resto de la sociedad a través de las leyes y el lenguaje.

Edesio Fernandes (Universidad de Londres) explicó como el Código Civil de Brasil, originado a principios del siglo, creó un sistema de derechos individuales de propiedad que limitan la capacidad del gobierno para regularizar las favelas. La Constitución de 1998 intentó reformar esta situación al reconocer los derechos privados de propiedad cuando éstos cumplen una función social. Sin embargo, debido a tensiones legales internas los programas de regularización no han podido integrar las favelas a la “ciudad oficial”, conduciendo a algunas situaciones políticas peligrosas.

Bajo distintas circunstancias, Sudáfrica produjo un régimen regulatorio que le negó la libre propiedad a las familias negras y ofreció sólo complicados permisos sin necesidad de garantía a unos pocos. Lauren Royston (Alternativas de Planificación del Desarrollo, Johannesburg) explicó la manera en que el Documento de Política de la Tierra de dicho país contempla derechos no raciales legalmente vigentes, un rango más amplio de opciones de tenencia, y oportunidades para la adquisición de propiedades comunitarias.

Los dos países en vías de desarrollo con mayor número de programas masivos de adjudicación de títulos, México y Perú, fueron analizados por Ann Varley (Colegio Universitario, Londres) y Gustavo Riofrío (Centro para el Estudio y la Promoción del Desarrollo – DESCO, Lima). Varley contradijo dos supuestos prevalecientes en la literatura contemporánea sobre políticas: que la descentralización produce un manejo más efectivo de la tierra, y que la regularización de la tenencia consuetudinaria es más complicada que la regularización de la propiedad privada. En México, a pesar de la retórica de descentralización, un sistema altamente centralizado ha resultado ser cada vez más efectivo en suministrar la regularización de la tenencia de la tierra a los asentamientos en ejidos. Por otra parte, la regularización de la propiedad privada es tortuosamente larga y con frecuencia produce pobres resultados. Varley se mostró preocupada por las tendencias actuales en México a convertir los ejidos en propiedades privadas y encaminarse hacia una mayor descentralización.

Riofrío puso en duda la validez de los reclamos hechos a favor de la regularización de la tierra en Perú. Hizo notar que en realidad, el interés de las familias por tener título de propiedad es relativamente bajo, siendo uno de los motivos principales que los registros son imprecisos y por lo tanto ofrecen menos seguridad de la que prometen. Más aún, el mercado de financiamiento de la vivienda basado en las propiedades regularizadas se encuentra todavía en estado incipiente. Las familias tienen miedo de endeudarse, pero están dispuestas a dejar su vivienda en garantía para pedir pequeños préstamos para la instalación de microempresas o para consumo.

Nuevos Patrones Sociales y Formas de Entrega de Tierras

¿Producirá la liberalización mercados de la tierra más segregados? Brzeski planteó que la planificación estatal en Europa Oriental ha dejado un legado de espacios equitativos y escasa tenencia informal de la tierra, que no durará para siempre, y que los planificadores necesitan tomar en cuenta a la hora de instigar reformas. En países con niveles altos de segregación, como Chile, Colombia y África del Sur, tendencias menos predecibles están emergiendo. Los datos de Sabatini indicaron una menor segregación espacial en Santiago a pesar de la liberalización a medida que los espacios intermedios se desarrollan, alrededor de centros comerciales, por ejemplo, y a medida que nuevos estilos de vida se reflejan en los desarrollos de viviendas “de recreo” fuera del área metropolitana.

Carolina Barco (Universidad de los Andes) explicó que nuevas medidas en Colombia, específicamente la Ley de Ordenamiento Territorial de 1997, permitirán al gobierno de Bogotá capturar incrementos en el valor de la tierra y transferir dichos ingresos a la vivienda pública y a otros proyectos. El proceso todavía presenta problemas, sin embargo, incluso para una ciudad que tiene considerable experiencia en el uso de tasas de valorización.

En Sudáfrica, las estrategias para hacer frente a la “escasez de tierra” de la ciudad posterior al apartheid, especialmente el Acta para Facilitar el Desarrollo a nivel nacional y el Programa de Desarrollo Acelerado de Tierras en la provincia de Gauteng, han permitido la entrega rápida de tierras pero no han funcionado muy bien en relación a los principios de igualdad e integración. Royston explicó que el resultado ha sido un alto número de invasiones y la aceleración por parte de gobiernos locales de la entrega de tierras en la periferia urbana, donde no constituye un reto al “status quo” espacial.

Cambiar el método de entrega de tierras y el nivel de participación del gobierno tiene potencial para afectar la segregación y el acceso a la tierra. Geoff Payne (Geoff Payne y Asociados, Londres) resumió los principios y prácticas de las asociaciones público-privadas en los países en desarrollo. Si bien son muy aclamadas en la política internacional, estudios de investigación efectuados en África del Sur, India, Pakistán, Egipto y Europa Oriental demuestran que tales asociaciones han malbaratado su potencial.

Crispus Kiamba (Universidad de Nairobi) describió la transición en Kenya de esquemas patrocinados por el gobierno, que dejaron separados los sectores formales e informales, a nuevos enfoques que incorporan una mayor participación de organizaciones no gubernamentales, “ranchos colectivos” y asociaciones. En México, también, las asociaciones están vistas como un método para eliminar el ciclo de ilegalidad y regularización. Federico Seyde y Abelardo Figueroa, del gobierno mexicano, presentaron un nuevo programa llamado PISO, el cual –a pesar de numerosos inconvenientes– está resultando ser más efectivo al ser comparado con intervenciones previas (tales como las reservas de tierras).

Los Mercados de la Tierra y la Reducción de la Pobreza

En mis comentarios de apertura del seminario, expuse la idea de que la mayor parte de la investigación sobre mercados ha considerado la pobreza como un contexto legítimo, pero de ahí en adelante ha parecido concentrarse más en las operaciones del mercado que en la forma en que estas operaciones pueden afectar a la pobreza misma. En la sesión final, Omar Razzaz (Banco Mundial) presentó una propuesta para vincular las operaciones del mercado de la tierra con la reducción de la pobreza. La “Iniciativa de Tierras y Bienes Raíces” está dirigida a investigar formas de mejorar la liquidez de los bienes de tierras y el acceso de los sectores pobres, a través de la reestructuración de los registros de tierras (mejorando los procesos de negocio), el desarrollo de infraestructura normativa (en el área de cambios, hipotecas y aseguramiento) y el acceso y la movilización de tierras y bienes raíces por los sectores pobres. El propósito de esta iniciativa generó considerable debate, lo que podría ayudar a refinar ideas que beneficien a los 500 millones de personas que viven en la pobreza en las ciudades de los países en desarrollo.

Gareth A. Jones estuvo a cargo del desarrollo del programa y dirigió este seminario.

Would you like to experience the results of dedicated city and regional planning achieved with the cooperation and participation of the citizenry? Then you might consider Chattanooga.

Participants in the recent Lincoln Institute conference, “Land Use in the Southeast: Reflections and Directions,” experienced Chattanooga’s renaissance first hand. The conference was the third in a series of programs related to the book, Land Use in America, coauthored by Henry Diamond and Patrick Noonan (Island Press/Lincoln Institute, 1996).

The agenda focused on the challenges facing residents of the Southeast as they work to develop sustainable communities. In his keynote address, the Honorable Zach Wamp, a member of the House of Representatives representing eastern Tennessee, stressed the need to balance the sometimes competing interests of transportation, the environment, research and educational institutions, and the private sector.

Several speakers commented on the national land use scene. Henry Richmond, chairman of the National Growth Management Leadership Project, stated that land use and sustainable development were forgotten issues for many years but are now coming to the forefront again. Why? Because the goals of many powerful interests are being undermined by land use regulations. In addition, more people are interested in alternative patterns of land use that benefit society at large.

Attorney Henry Diamond observed that, despite the centrality of land, land use issues have failed to capture national attention for several reasons. It is difficult to regulate land, and the land pollution/land quality spectrum is hard to measure. Whereas the regulation of air and water falls on the community as a shared resource, the regulation of land falls on individuals. Finally, major environmental groups, until recently, have not given land much attention.

Patrick Noonan, chairman and CEO of the Conservation Fund, noted four emerging national trends:

• from federal to local governance: people are questioning centralization and in some cases demanding local control;
• from public action to private enterprise: the mantle of environmental leadership is passing from the nonprofit sector to industry;
• from a regulatory to a non-regulatory arena, with emphasis on economic incentives, voluntary initiatives and education; and
• from piecemeal conservation to a focus on whole systems, which may seem at odds with the previous three trends.

Norman Christensen, dean of Duke University’s School of the Environment, noted that by the middle of the next century the earth’s population should “level off” at between 10 and 12 billion, nearly twice what it is today. He outlined the basic tenets of ecosystem management: complexity and diversity are crucial; the world has never been the same twice; human use and ecological change represent an endless cycle; connections of all types are important; and, it is never simple.

Juxtaposed with these national views were success stories from the region. Officials from Chattanooga were joined by speakers from Florida, South Carolina, Georgia, Kentucky and North Carolina, who outlined the techniques they are using to gather a constituency for sustainable development. All of them stressed the importance of grassroots community involvement. To be successful in implementing radical changes in land use and density, broad-based agreement among parties is critical. In addition, research and education are needed for well-informed policy making, and certain legislative and regulatory changes, unique to each jurisdiction, must be implemented to permit better, smarter growth.

Norm Christensen’s closing thoughts sum up the conference: “The land we possess is less an inheritance than something we borrow from our grandchildren.”

Kathryn J. Lincoln is chairman of the Lincoln Institute.

Land use planning involves intertemporal decisionmaking—the consideration of a subsequent decision before a first decision is made. Decisions in the urban development process include the purchase, assembly or subdivision of land; the provision of transportation, electric, water and wastewater services; the application for and approval of building permits; and the sale of improved property to final users.

The ability to analyze this process has been limited by the lack of dynamic models of development stages, time-series data on land use decisionmaking, and empirical approaches to analyzing multiple events in time and space. In part for these reasons, there has been almost no empirical evidence on the process of planning or the effects of plans on subsequent development.

To gain new insights into the effects of planning on the urban development process, we have developed theoretical models of urban planning, constructed a dynamic geographic information system, and developed computer algorithms for interpreting and displaying urban development events. The information system is characterized by a high degree of spatial and temporal resolution and the ability to observe development activity over time.

As a result, the information system facilitates the observation of spatial and dynamic processes that characterize urban development, the formation and testing of hypotheses about such processes, and the exercise of high-resolution simulations based on statistically confirmed relationships.

Study Site on Portland’s Westside Corridor

The information system is built upon the Regional Land Information System (RLIS) developed by Metro, the regional government of Portland, Oregon. RLIS is a comprehensive Geographic Information System (GIS) containing layers that depict tax lots and their attributes; planning designations and zoning regulations; soil, water and environmental resources; infrastructure facilities and capacities; government boundaries, tax districts and transportation zones; and census data for the entire Portland metropolitan area.

RLIS has been enhanced to include attributes of development events, such as land sales, subdivisions, and changes in plan designations and zoning. Although the system currently includes only the years 1991 to 1995, it is an unusually comprehensive, high-resolution, and dynamic research and planning tool.

To test the utility of the information system, we examined the urban development process in Portland’s Westside corridor, where a new light rail system is scheduled to begin service in 1998. Construction of the Westside segment began in 1992, and the far western station locations were finalized on July 28, 1993. When complete, the Westside line will connect the western suburbs of Hillsboro and Beaverton to downtown Portland and to the eastern sections of the light rail system.

Ambitious plans for the metropolitan area call for high-density development along Portland’s light rail corridors to contain growth within the urban growth boundary. By focusing on the Westside corridor, it is possible to evaluate whether the development decisions and transactions of land owners and local governments are influenced by anticipated light rail infrastructure investments and consistent with regional development plans.

Mapping the Development Process

The development process can be examined using dynamic geographic visualization—that is, the observation of urban development events at varying temporal and geographic scales. Using a tax-lot base map, for example, and by illuminating tax lots when certain events occur in a sequence of frames, it is possible to watch the urban development process much like a movie. The sequence of frames printed in this issue of Land Lines illustrates selected development activities from 1991 to 1995 in an approximately one-square-mile area around the proposed Orenco light rail station. Since it is difficult to reproduce the frames here, please go directly to the authors’ web page for mapping details at http://www.urban.uiuc.edu/projects/portland/lincoln.html

The first frame shows the sale of several large industrial properties in 1991, when the route of the rail line was known, but not the station location. In 1992, a demolition and construction permit was issued on a large industrial parcel. The third frame shows the station location, with development on industrial land near the station and increasing sales activity in the subdivision in the northwest corner of the study area.

The fourth frame shows that a station overlay zone was adopted in 1994. It subjected building permits in the station area to a special review process to assure that proposed developments are transit supportive. The frame also shows a marked increase in residential sales in the northwest subdivision and in the old town of Orenco in the inner southeast corner of the study area. The fifth frame shows a continuation of sales and development activity in both residential and industrial parts of the study area.

This series of frames captures an intriguing pattern of development events. First, the number of sales and permits in the study area before the announcement of the station location suggests that the station was sited in an area of active industrial development. Second, the activity in both the conventional subdivision in the northwest corner and in the township of Orenco indicates that the announcement of the station location accelerated nearby residential development activity.

Third, the demolitions approved just before and the building permits approved just after the station location was announced suggest that redevelopment of industrial land near the station is concurrent with the building of the light rail system. Such concurrency of private and public development activity is a fundamental objective of land use planning. Finally, the imposition of the interim development restrictions does not appear to have slowed the rate of development activity. In fact, the increased certainty about the regulatory environment may have increased activity.

This five-year display of development events may be unique to the Orenco station area. Certainly, previous land use plans, sewer system investments and industrial expansion patterns have influenced development in the area. Nevertheless, the ability to track parcel-by-parcel activity in the county-wide database will enable in-depth examination of the extent to which dynamic and spatial relationships between development events and land use plans are significant and pervasive.

The regional and local governments of metropolitan Portland are engaged in an extensive planning endeavor to shape the extent, location and nature of urban development over the next four decades. As implementation proceeds, the information system will enable us to monitor the planning, regulation and development process and, for at least this metropolitan area, assess whether and how planning matters.

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The authors are affiliated with the Department of Urban and Regional Planning at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. Chengri Ding is a post-doctoral fellow specializing in the use of geographical information systems for urban economic analysis. Lewis Hopkins is professor and head of the department. Gerrit Knaap is associate professor, currently on sabbatical as a visiting fellow at the Center for Urban Policy and the Environment at Indiana University and a senior research fellow at the American Planning Association. Support for their research has been provided by the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy; the University of Illinois Research Board; the Metro of Portland, Oregon; Washington County, Oregon; the Tri-county Transportation District of Portland, Oregon; and the National Science Foundation.

As a part of the educational activities of the Lincoln Institute’s Latin America Program, a course on “Large Urban Projects,” held in Cambridge last June, focused on the most important and challenging aspects of this land planning issue. Academics, public officials and representatives from private enterprises in 17 cities participated in the presentations and discussions. This article presents a synthesis of the principal points, questions and challenges raised in carrying out these complex projects.

Large urban redevelopment projects have become an important issue in many Latin American countries recently, due in part to changes motivated by the processes of globalization, deregulation and the introduction of new approaches in urban planning. These projects include varied types of interventions, but they are characterized primarily by their large size and scale, which challenge traditional instruments of urban management and financing.

Urban projects on a grand scale are not considered a novelty in Latin America. The diverse elements of existing developments include the revitalization of historic centers; conversion of abandoned industrial facilities, military areas, airports or train stations; large slum rehabilitation projects; and construction of innovative public transportation models. However, at least four important features characterize this new type of intervention:

• An urban management structure that implies the association of various public and private, national and international actors;
• Significant financing needs that require complex forms of interconnections among these actors;
• The conception and introduction of new urban processes that are intended to transform the city;
• The questioning of traditional urban planning perspectives, since these projects tend to exceed the scope of prevailing norms and policies.

The last feature is reinforced by the influence of different planning strategies and the impacts of large urban projects in various cities around the world (Powell 2000). One project that has influenced many city planners and officials in Latin America was the transformation of Barcelona in preparation for the Olympic Games in 1992 (Borja 1995). Several projects in Latin America have been inspired by, if not directly emulated, this approach (Carmona and Burgess 2001), but it also has faced serious criticism (Arantes, Vainer and Maricato 2000). It has been seen as a convenient process through which a group of decision makers or private interest stakeholders manage to bypass official planning and policy channels that are seen to be too dependent on the public (democratic) debate. As a result most such projects tend to be either elitist, because they displace low-income neighborhoods with gentrified and segregated upper-class land uses, or are socially exclusionary, because they develop single-class projects, either low-income settlements or high-income enclaves, in peripheral locations.

Large-scale projects raise new questions, make inherent contradictions more transparent, and challenge those responsible for urban land analysis and policy formulation. Of special importance are the new forms of management, regulation, financing and taxation that are required for or result from the execution of these projects, and in general the consequences for the functioning of land markets.

Size, Scale and Timeframe

The first issue that emerges from a discussion of large-scale projects has to do with the ambiguity of the term and the necessity of defining its validity. Size is a quantitative dimension, but scale suggests complex interrelations involving socioeconomic and political impacts. The wide variety of feelings evoked by large projects shows the limitations in being able to restore a vision of the urban whole and at the same time its global character (Ingallina 2001). This issue has just begun to be discussed in Latin America, and it is framed in the transition to a new approach in urban planning, which is related to the possibility and even the necessity of constructing a typology and indicators for its analysis. Issues such as the emblematic character of these projects, their role in stimulating other urban processes, the involvement of many actors, and the significance of the impacts on the life and development of the city are all part of the discussions. Nevertheless, it is the scale, understood as being more than just simple physical dimensions, that is the central core of this theme.

Since the scale of these projects is associated with complex urban processes that combine continuity and changes over the medium and long terms, the timeframe of their execution must be conceived accordingly. Many of the failures in the implementation of such projects have to do with the lack of a managing authority that would be free or protected from the political volatility of local administrations over time.

The cases of Puerto Madero in Buenos Aires and Fenix in Montevideo, the first completed and the second in process, offer examples of the difficulties in managing the scale and timing of development in the context of economic situations and policies that can change drastically. Twelve years after its construction, Puerto Madero has not yet stimulated other large-scale projects, such as the renovation of nearby Avenida de Mayo, nor appreciable transformations in urban norms.

The scale and timeframe are particularly important for the project in Montevideo, raising doubts about the feasibility of executing a project of this scale in relation to the character of the city, its economy, and other priorities and policies of the country. Its goal was to generate a “work of urban impact,” in this case promotion of public, private and mixed investments in a neighborhood that lost 18.4 percent of its population between 1985 and 1996, and focusing on an emblematic building, the old General Artigas train station. Most of this work has been executed, with a loan of $28 million from the Inter-American Development Bank, however the percentage of public and private investments are minimal and the Fenix project is having to compete with another large-scale corporate-commercial development located east of the city that is already attracting important firms and enterprises.

Land Policy Issues

The issue of scale relates intrinsically to the role of urban land, which makes one ask if land (including its value, uses, ownership and other factors) should be considered a key variable in the design and management of large-scale urban operations, since the feasibility and success of these projects are often associated with the internalization of formidable externalities often reflected in the cost and management of the land.

Projects to restore historic centers offer important lessons to be considered here. We can compare the cases of Old Havana, where land ownership is completely in the hands of the state, which has permitted certain activities to expand, and Lima, where land ownership is divided among many private owners and public sector agencies, adding to the difficulties in completing an ongoing restoration project. Even though Old Havana has received important financial cooperation from Europe and Lima has a $37 million loan from the Inter-American Development Bank, the main challenge is to promote private investment while also maintaining programs of social and economic assistance for the local residents. Both cities have created special units for the management of these projects, which constitutes an interesting commentary on institutional modernization.

The Role of the State

The scale, the time dimension and the role of land in large urban projects lead us to consider the role of the state and public investment. While urban operations on a large scale are not new in Latin American cities, their present conditions have been affected radically by economic changes, political crises and substantial modifications in the role of the state in general. These conditions make the execution of urban projects, as part of the process of long-term urban development, a source of contradictions with the generally short tenure of municipal governments and the limits of their territorial claims. We must also consider the differences in regulatory competencies between central governments and local municipalities, and the differences between public entities and private institutions or local community organizations, which often reflect conflicting interests due the decentralization and privatization processes being promoted simultaneously in many countries.

Two large projects related to transportation infrastructure are examples of local situations that led to very different results. One was the transformation of the old abandoned Cerrillos airport in Santiago, Chile, and the other was a project for a new airport for Mexico City in Texcoco, an area known as ejido land occupied by peasants and their descendants. In the first case, the active participation of interested groups is expanding the recuperation process of a zone of the city that does not have quality urban facilities. A total investment of $36 million from the public sector and $975 million from the private sector is supporting the construction of malls, facilities for education, health and recreation, and housing for the neighborhood. In Mexico serious conflicts between state interests and community rights to the land had caused social unrest and even the kidnapping of public officials. As a result, the federal government has recently withdrawn from the Texcoco project, assuming huge political and economic costs for this decision.

Segregation and Exclusion

Many planners and practitioners have doubts about the feasibility of large projects in poor countries and cities because of the distortions that their execution could cause on future development, in particular the reinforcing tendencies of segregation and social exclusiveness. The diminishing capacity of the state to look for new alternatives for financing socially beneficial projects through private capital, principally from international sources, adds to the doubts about their success. Many large-scale projects are seen as the only alternative or the unavoidable cost that the city or society has to pay to generate an attractive environment in a context of growing competition among cities for a limited number of external investors.

A key matter with respect to the use of public space generated by these projects is to avoid segregation of space and people. Special attention must be given to protect the inhabitants of the zones where the large urban projects are developed from the negative consequences of gentrification. This is without a doubt one of the most difficult aspects of large urban projects. Table 1 shows the most important aspects and the principal challenges that arise from an analysis of the large urban projects. Effectively, the integration of projects of this scope calls for a vision of the city that avoids the creation of islands of modernity isolated in the middle of poor areas, which would contribute to the process called the dualism of the city, or the generation of new exclusive urban centers.

Table 1: Aspects and Challenges of Large Urban Projects

Two cases in different political-economic contexts help us reflect about this matter. One is the El Recreo project, planned by Metrovivienda, in Bogotá. Although presenting innovative proposals about the use and management of the land in a large project for popular housing, the project has not been able to guarantee the integration of social groups with different income levels. In the Corredor Sur area of Panama City large zones are being planned for the construction of residences, but the result again serves primarily medium- and high-income sectors. Thus in both a decentralized and a centralized country the general norms that provoke residential segregation cannot seem to prevent negative consequences for the poorest sectors of society.

In view of all this, large urban projects should not be seen as an alternative approach to obsolete plans or rigid norms like zoning. They could instead be presented as a kind of intermediate-scale planning, as an integrated approach that addresses the needs of the whole city and avoids physical and social separations and the creation of norms that permit exclusive privileges. Only in this way can large-scale projects take their place as new instruments for urban planning. The positive effects of specific elements such as the quality of architecture and urban design are valuable in these projects if they operate as a benchmark and are distributed with equity throughout the city.

Public Benefits

Large-scale projects are public projects by the nature of their importance and impact, but that does not mean they are the total property of the state. Nevertheless, the complexity of the participant networks involved directly or indirectly, the variety of interests and the innumerable contradictions inherent in large projects require a leading management role by the public sector. The territorial scale of these operations especially depends on the support of the municipal governments, which in Latin America often lack the technical resources to manage such projects. Local support can guarantee a reduction of negative externalities and the involvement of weaker participants, generally local actors, through a more just distribution of the benefits, where the regulation of the use and taxation of the land is a key issue. Such is the intention of the Municipality of Santo Andre in Sao Paulo in the design of the extraordinarily complex Tamanduatehy project. It involves the reuse of an enormous tract of land previously occupied by railroad facilities and neighboring industrial plants that fled this once vigorous industrial belt of Sao Paulo to relocate in the hinterland. The project involves establishing a viable locus of new activities, mostly services and high-tech industries, capable of replacing the economic base of that region.

Beyond creating and marketing the image of the project, it is important to achieve social legitimacy through a combination of public and private partners engaged in joint ventures, the sale or renting of urban land, compensation for direct private investment, regulation, or even public recovery (or recapture) of costs and/or of unearned land value increments. Active public management is also necessary, since the development of the city implies common properties and benefits, not only economic interests. Analysis of economic and financial costs, and opportunity costs, are also important to avoid the failure of these projects.

Conclusions

The basic components in the pre-operational stage of executing large urban projects can be summarized as follows:

• Establish a development/management company independent from the state and municipal administration
• Formulate the comprehensive project plan
• Elaborate on the marketing plan
• Design the program of buildings and infrastructure
• Define adequate fiscal and regulatory instruments
• Formulate the financing plan (cash flow)
• Design a monitoring system

An adequate analysis of the trade-offs (economic, political, social, environmental, and others) is indispensable, even if it is clear that the complex problems of the contemporary city cannot be solved with large interventions alone. It is important to reiterate that more importance must be given to the institutionalization and legitimacy of the final plans and agreements than simply the application of legal norms.

The presentations and discussions at the course on “Large Urban Projects” show that the matter of urban land strongly underlies all the aspects and challenges described above. Land in this type of project presents a huge complexity and offers a great opportunity; the challenge is how to navigate between the interests and conflicts when there are many owners and stakeholders of the land. It is necessary to combat the temptation to believe that modern urban planning is the sum of large projects. Nevertheless, these projects can contribute to building a shared image of the city between the inhabitants and the users. This topic clearly has facets that have not been completely explored yet and that need continued collaborative analysis and by academics, policy makers and citizens.

Mario Lungo is executive director of the Office of Planning of the Metropolitan Area of San Salvador (OPAMSS) in El Salvador. He is also a professor and researcher at the Central American University José Simeón Cañas.

References

Borja, Jordi. 1995. Un modelo de transformación urbana. Quito, Peru: Programa de Gestion Urbana.

Carmona, Marisa and Rod Burgess. 2001. Strategic Planning and Urban Projects. Delft: Delft University Press.

Ingallina, Patrizia. 2001. Le Projet Urbain. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France.

Powell, Kenneth. 2000. La transformación de la ciudad. Barcelona: Ediciones Blume.

Arantes, Otilia, Carlos Vainer e Erminia Maricato. 2000. A cidade do pensamento unico. Petrópolis: Editora Vozes.

Over the last 50 years cities have been the scene of major transformations that have allowed them to evolve from being centers primarily for economic activities to a combination of more specialized productive, commercial and service functions. The results are mixed, but in those cities considered most successful, beauty and humanism have managed to coexist with economic efficiency and effectiveness, significantly increasing the creation of wealth and the well-being of the community at large. In this context, developments known as “large urban projects” seek to rescue dilapidated areas such as historic centers, former industrial and military zones, vacant railroads and airports, and decaying housing settlements and transform them into vibrant residential areas able to generate tax revenues, employment, and public and social benefits to enhance quality of life.

The redevelopment of waterfronts creates tremendous opportunities to reintegrate historic city centers with their adjacent waterways and to facilitate growth that would otherwise move to the outskirts of the city. Many concerns have to be addressed, however. What type and scale of development are desirable and possible? How can meaningful relationships be established between the old and the new? What are the impacts on the environment and the existing infrastructure? What public policies and investments are needed? What are the roles of the public and private sectors? How do we organize the planning process, including building political and community support?

Amsterdam and Havana are cases where waterfronts provide challenges and opportunities to address this complex balancing act. Both are UNESCO World Heritage Cities dealing with the pressures of profit-driven real estate development and the desire to protect both their historic centers and the interests of their contemporary populations.

In December 2003 the Lincoln Institute, with Havana’s Group for the Development of the Capital (GDIC), the Office of the Historian and the Port Authority of the Ministry of Transportation, cosponsored a seminar in Havana at which waterfront experts from Amsterdam, Rotterdam, New York and Panama shared their experiences with Cuban planners and public officials. This article elaborates on the Amsterdam presentation, in particular how management, experiments, planning and land policies enabled an impressive transformation of that city’s former industrial waterfronts, and offers lessons that may be applicable for Havana.

Planning and Development Policies in the Netherlands

The Netherlands has a well-known tradition of strong national planning and development, precipitated by the housing shortage since World War II. The notion of limited space drives the country’s development policies and its commitment to preserving green and agricultural areas between cities. Housing, infrastructure, retail and office development, environmental protection, agriculture, water management and open space are major concerns at both the national and local levels. With two-thirds of their country below sea level, the Dutch have always pursued new ways of relating to water. National planning policies thus concentrate on facilitating growth in designated areas, controlling urban sprawl and reorganizing inner cities without neglecting major infrastructure and the management and control of green spaces and water bodies.

The Dutch rediscovered the importance of their cities in the 1980s after the rapid growth of suburbs and new towns caused increasing congestion and a lack of livable spaces. The idea of a “compact city” was adopted in the nation’s Fourth Memorandum of Urban Planning (1988), advocating concentration on the urban nexus in order to “redevelop currently abandoned areas.” Typical sites include Rotterdam’s Kop van Zuid and Amsterdam’s Eastern Docklands. The compact city concept was broadened in the 1990s with the notion of the “complete city,” marrying concepts of multiple and intensive land use with the concentration of functions and activities in a melting pot of lifestyles.

The reorganization of transit areas and transport routes is another planning priority that aims to combine different transport functions and discourage the use of cars. Examples include the Airport City plan for the Amsterdam Schiphol Airport and the area around the future high-speed train station Zuidas-WTC. The Zuidas master plan creates enough space over the railway and highway for the construction of 7 million square feet of offices, 1,500 dwellings, retail space, hotels, museums and a new park.

Despite the national government’s plans and ambitions, financial resources determine its role in development projects. The significant decrease in national housing and development subsidies since 1990 has highlighted the strategic importance of the local government in the (re)development process. However, the Amsterdam case also shows that management capacity, reliable development partners and creative financial and development tools are instrumental for redevelopment.

Amsterdam’s Land and Housing Policies

Amsterdam is the cultural and financial capital of the Netherlands and the largest city in the Randstad-Holland or Deltametropolis region of 6 million people. The city has close to 750,000 inhabitants, 375,000 housing units and 417,000 jobs, and has one of the world’s largest conserved historic city centers.

Amsterdam’s land policies are strategic tools in the city’s redevelopment strategies. In 1896 the city democratically decided on a land-lease system to acquire land and lease it to future users. Important arguments for leasing were that increases in land value should benefit the entire community and the city should determine the use of scarce land to prevent speculation and undesirable development.

The land-lease system works as follows. The city’s land corporation acquires land and leases it to private developers for periods of 49 or 99 years. Leaseholders pay an annually adjusted amount for use of the land, determined by location, square feet of development, type of use (office, retail, affordable or market rate housing, open space, etc.), new or existing buildings, and parking (on the street or inside). The city determines the price of land through a residual land value method that links the market value of the property, the land and the construction costs. The value of land equals the sales value of the property minus the construction costs determined by the location (costs are considerably higher in the historic neighborhoods). In 2002 leases totaled 59 million euros.

Acquisition of privately owned land—as in the Eastern Docklands area—is financed through loans to the city’s land corporation, whose interest payments account for 80 percent of its expenses. Excess revenues are used to support the city’s development and rehabilitation efforts, particularly for commercially unprofitable projects such as parks and open space. This system also serves political objectives such as the provision and geographic distribution of affordable housing. In a high-density city like Amsterdam, land is scarce and its use is subject to much real estate pressure. As the landowner the city maintains a strategic role in determining the use, quality and amount of land available for development.

Amsterdam relies on its relationships with the city’s civic and nonprofit development groups for support and implementation of its plans, and the role of housing associations is critical. These associations were created as a result of the housing law of 1901, which allowed for union-related associations and religious organizations to establish nonprofit housing associations. With national subsidies and strong support from local governments, they have built thousands of units, especially in the neighborhoods damaged during the war. In some of these areas over 75 percent of the units is owned by housing associations.

The deregulation of the Dutch housing market in the early 1990s strongly affected the housing associations’ position as both owners and developers. They lost most of the national housing subsidies, but in exchange the government granted them more financial and institutional freedom to manage their assets. As a result, the nonprofit sector had to become more professionalized, and many of the housing associations merged to create economies of scale. Today, Amsterdam counts 13 housing associations that manage over 200,000 units, ranging from 1,400 to 37,500 units each. Many associations successfully positioned themselves as trustworthy and financially stable developers. Moreover, they became strategic partners for commercial developers looking for experts on affordable housing and partners for creating goodwill for their projects with the city and community groups. More and more, they develop mixed-income projects in collaboration with private developers using creative financial packages. In 2000, for example, half of the units built by housing associations were market rate. The resulting profits financed the other half as affordable and moderate-income units.

In an unexpected side effect of the housing reform, these associations have become leaders in setting high standards for urban design and planning. With their commitment to the city and to community development they have been willing to take risks with low-cost but provocative designs, and many of their projects have become international examples for innovative affordable housing concepts.

Waterfront Redevelopment in Amsterdam

Amsterdam is a city founded on water and around a dam that separated the Amstel River from the IJ River. In the seventeenth century, Amsterdam was the world’s most prominent commercial and maritime center. The canals and waterways built in that era still marvel the millions of tourists who visit the city every year. The relationship between the city and its waterfront has not always been organic; mistakes have been made, such as the 1898 decision to build Amsterdam’s central railway station in the middle of the port area. The station effectively ruined the visual relationship and physical connections between the IJ, the port and the dam, destroying the ancient heart of the capital.

In the past 40 years, most port functions have moved closer to the sea to handle container ships, while the large financial institutions moved to the south axis of the city due to a lack of space and poor accessibility. The inner city of Amsterdam, which is adjacent to the old port areas, remains the region’s largest center for retail, culture and entertainment and is well suited for pedestrians, bicyclists and public transportation. Although the port continues to play an important economic role for Amsterdam, the city essentially turned its back to the harbor for many years.

Major areas of Amsterdam are now being converted and rehabilitated, while entirely new areas are being built on artificial islands. The city’s southern and northern waterfront system of old piers and wet docks is becoming an attractive residential and mixed-use district with retail and cultural centers, new transit, parks and waterfront promenades, most of which mix contemporary design with the historic maritime character. The construction of IJburg, an overspill area in the IJsselmeer Lake, is designed to accommodate 45,000 new inhabitants.

Discussion about the redevelopment of the Eastern Docklands and the rest of the southern IJ waterfront began in the early 1980s. Following years of negotiations between the municipality, developers and well-organized community groups, the plan, currently in the final phases of construction, proposed a series of high-density, moderate-rise communities on the water, thus remaking a historic and cultural bond with the water. Housing is the major component of all development on the IJ bank, and 40 percent of it is affordable. In many cases the city’s professional nonprofit housing associations have led the development and encouraged private investment.

The formal planning process for the IJ-waterfront started with a design competition in 1984. Initially the city government endorsed the IJ Boulevard master plan by Rem Koolhaas for the entire 10 km southern waterfront. The redevelopment program incorporated a range of uses, but focused on office development and supporting amenities to stop the exodus of corporations and to finance the proposed infrastructure program. The plan was to be implemented by the Amsterdam Waterfront Finance Company (AWF), a public-private partnership of the city and one master developer/investor with unprecedented authority. Subsequent controversy over the size and cost of the plan, the collapse of the office market in the late 1980s, and growing discontent with the plan among the city’s prominent civic and community groups led to the dismantling of the partnership in 1994.

The city then changed its approach and passed a strategic memorandum titled “Anchors of the IJ” in 1995. This plan proposed to build on the existing island structure with a phased development starting at the outer edges and working toward the Central Station area. This pragmatic and organic approach concentrated the city’s efforts and resources on master plans for smaller and more manageable areas. The development program shifted toward housing with public buildings and squares (the anchors) at strategic locations within a framework of larger infrastructure investments. The national government committed to building a new tunnel in the early phases of the planning process and a light-rail system at a later phase. Urban design and development programs were determined by site potential and strong community input and were modified over time based on experience, new ideas and changing market conditions. Since the city owns the land and thus controls how much land is available for development, it encouraged private developers to team up with nonprofit housing groups to bid for portions of the waterfront. The Amsterdam case underscores the fact that strategy, planning tools, leadership and partners are interdependent and instrumental for redevelopment that benefits the community at large.

Implications for Havana

The uniqueness of Havana’s waterfront makes it a formidable site for innovative and comprehensive redevelopment and for avoiding the mistakes that have spoiled the charm of many other cities around the world. Havana is Cuba’s capital city, home to more than 2 million of the country’s 11 million citizens. Prior to the 1959 revolution Cuba was the leading business and tourist destination in the Caribbean, but its subsequent political isolation and lack of economic development have resulted in a mostly unspoiled historic city now in desperate need of repair. Since the collapse of the former Soviet Union and the subsequent loss of a market for 65 percent of Cuban exports, Havana has focused on attracting investment through real estate ventures. Most joint ventures (350 were active in 2001, worth $2.6 billion) are with Canadian and European companies in the booming hospitality industry. Tourism and related activities again generate much-needed foreign currency, especially in Havana where historic downtown hotels have been upgraded and new office buildings are being built in nearby elegant neighborhoods to the west.

The government recognizes the historic and economic value of Old Havana’s architectural heritage and strongly supports renovation and rehabilitation of its historic buildings and squares. The progress and benefits are impressive, considering the limited public resources and the state of the city’s infrastructure and buildings. The Office of the Historian, the development authority for Old Havana, has stimulated revenues that generated $50 million for social and historic preservation programs in 1999 alone (Nunez, Brown and Smolka 2000).

Havana’s waterfront is considered a key asset for future growth and therefore a key area of concern. The waterfront includes the famous Malecon Boulevard as well as the lesser-known inner-harbor districts on the east side of Old Havana. Along the shores of this bay, historic warehouses and small communities are mixed with decaying infrastructure, port facilities, heavy industry and shipyards. Many different city and state agencies are involved in planning for this vast area, yet no clear development directive has been defined and most players lack the authority to take that role. In response, some agencies have developed plans for individual properties, but implementation is unlikely because there is no funding in place and the oil refineries across the bay produce heavy fumes, which discourage some tourist-oriented activities.

Since land in Havana is publicly owned, capturing the increase of land values could create a strategic and sustainable source for financing much-needed public investments in affordable housing, public space and infrastructure. The local government can lead the redevelopment process; however, support and collaboration with regional and national public partners will be important for larger investments. Flexibility in program and a focus on process instead of blueprint planning is essential to accommodate changing market conditions and emerging opportunities. The latter is especially evident as development depends significantly on private investments.

With its historic beauty, proximity to the United States and lack of development for more than 40 years, Havana draws the attention of developers from throughout the world. It has the potential to become a model livable city that has preserved most of its heritage and is not spoiled by the automobile. It is in the interest of all of us, but especially the Cuban people, to ensure that attention to both high-quality redevelopment and the public interest determines the transformation of Havana’s waterfront.

Frank Uffen is managing director of New Amsterdam Development Consultants in New York. Other Dutch participants in the seminar who contributed to this article are Riek Bakker (partner, BVR Consultancy for Urban Development, Landscape and Infrastructure, Rotterdam), Ad Hereijgers (partner, DE LIJN Office for Urban Development, Amsterdam), Willem van Leuven (project manager, Amsterdam Project Management Bureau) and Rutger Sypkens (project developer, Ballast Nedam Construction, Amsterdam).

Reference

Nunez, Ricardo, H. James Brown, and Martim Smolka. 2000. Using land value to promote development in Cuba. Land Lines 12(2):1–4.

In the nearly 35 years since Bosselman and Callies (1972) published The Quiet Revolution in Land Use Control, land use policies in states across the nation have continued to change and evolve. The state of Maryland offers a good example. The history of land use policy in Maryland records a variety of conservation, development, and growth management acts, but in 1997 the state burst into the national spotlight with its innovative Smart Growth and Neighborhood Conservation package of land use reforms.

Today, some 10 years later, a new initiative is aiming to take the reform process in Maryland even further. Named Reality Check Plus: Imagine Maryland, this effort is supported in part by the Lincoln Institute, along with other nonprofit organizations, foundations, corporations, and individuals. It remains to be seen how far this effort will go and in what ways it may produce significant policy change, but regardless of the outcome it represents an interesting test of whether a privately led reform initiative can foster land use change at state and local levels.

A Rich Planning History

Maryland has a longstanding reputation as a national leader in land use policy and planning. The historical roots of Maryland’s smart growth program date to 1933, when Maryland established the nation’s first state planning commission. Recent planning history begins with the formation of the Chesapeake Bay Commission in 1980. Although the commission has no explicit land use authority in the signatory states (Maryland, Pennsylvania, and Virginia), its recommendations have been instrumental in shaping land use policy in Maryland. The state’s Critical Area Act of 1984, for example, required local governments to adopt special development regulations within a 1,000-foot buffer of the Bay shoreline, and the Economic Growth, Resource Protection, and Planning Act of 1992 required local governments to address six visions originally outlined in a report prepared for the Chesapeake Executive Council (DeGrove 2005, 254–256).

Although the 1992 Planning Act provided a framework for local comprehensive plans, it failed to stem the tide of urban sprawl, according to the Growth Commission, established by the act as a new state advisory body. Following an extensive listening campaign, many meetings, and frequent forums, Governor Parris Glendening (1995–2003) proposed and the 1997 legislature passed the initiatives that have led to Maryland’s recognition as a leader in the promotion of smart growth. The original 1997 package of smart growth legislation included five separate measures; the first two captured the primary focus of the program (see Figure 1), and three others supported the overall concept.

• The Priority Funding Areas (PFAs) Act: This act launched a program in which state subsidies for new roads, water, and other infrastructure are available only for projects that are either within municipalities, inside the beltways around Baltimore and Washington, or in other areas designated by counties that meet certain criteria set by the state. This landmark legislation marked the first time the state restricted its expenditures on infrastructure or other growth-related expenses to specific geographic areas of the state.
• The Rural Legacy Act: Under this program the state provides funds for local governments and/or land trusts to purchase development rights on properties (and, in rare instances, purchase the property itself) in rural areas threatened by development, in order to preserve agriculture, forest, and natural resource lands in contiguous blocks, corridors, or greenways. This program recognized that efforts to concentrate new development within existing communities would not be completely successful and that the best remaining farms and natural areas of the state should be identified and protected.
• Brownfield Voluntary Cleanup and Redevelopment Act: This act launched a program that provides financial incentives, technical assistance, and liability protection to eligible participants in the cleanup and redevelopment of underutilized or abandoned industrial properties that are, or are perceived to be, contaminated.
• Live Near Your Work: This program promoted linkages between employers and nearby communities by offering incentives to enable employees to buy homes in proximity to their workplace. This small but popular program subsequently lost state funding due to budget constraints faced by the administration that followed Glendening.
• Job Creation Tax Credit Act: This act launched a program designed to boost employment within the newly established PFAs by providing state income tax credits to employers who created 25 or more new, full-time jobs in those areas.

Incentive-based Programs

Maryland’s smart growth programs are interesting in a number of ways, but the most distinctive feature is their reliance on spatially specific incentives instead of land use regulations (Cohen 2002). For example:

• Local governments can grow wherever they want, but state funds for accommodating development are available only within PFAs.
• Property owners need not clean up and redevelop their properties, but grants are available for doing so.
• Residents can live anywhere, but grants may be available if they purchase homes near their work.
• Farm and forest lands can be developed, but development rights can also be sold and extinguished or, in some counties, transferred to more desirable locations.
• Business can expand anywhere, but tax credits are available for expansion only in certain locations.

This reliance on incentives is what enabled these programs to pass the Maryland legislature, and what makes them so attractive to other states. After nearly 10 years, Maryland remains a national model for state efforts to promote smart growth, although many within the state believe the program has not gone far enough. According to John W. Frece, a former aide to Glendening, the smart growth program was “unquestionably a move in the right direction,” but it also represented only as much change as was politically possible at the time (Frece 2005). He concludes that the Maryland program might have been more effective if it had set specific goals and benchmarks when it was created, and that it failed to conduct any statewide visioning or other exercises to determine what the public thought their region or state should look like in the future. He also notes that the basic planning blocks of smart growth, the priority funding areas, proved to be too weak and porous to slow sprawl, much less stop it.

Because Maryland’s smart growth policies relied extensively on state incentives, their efficacy waned when those incentives were not maintained after Glendening left office. In some cases the policies were simply insufficient to counteract the economic factors that drive sprawl development. Moreover, if a development project was approved by the local government but did not need or rely on financial incentives from the state, the smart growth initiative had no effect on it. Finally, the smart growth program skirted the politically sensitive issue of whether the state should have more authority over local land use decisions. If local decisions were contrary to the state’s smart growth policies, the state had little recourse (Frece 2005).

Several recent studies support these assertions.

• A pair of studies by 1000 Friends of Maryland that focused on the Baltimore area (1999) and the Eastern Shore (2001) found great variation in county land use policies. Whereas some counties had strong policies designed to protect natural resources, encourage infill, and promote mixed land uses, others did little to support any of these goals.
• An examination of land conversion to urban uses from 1992 to 2002 found that urban development after 1997 was more likely inside PFAs than outside them, but only in those counties that had strong urban containment programs before 1997 (Shen and Zhang forthcoming).
• In an examination of investments in wastewater infrastructure, Howland and Sohn (forthcoming) found that a large share of wastewater investments—even investments funded by the state—continued to occur outside of PFAs after 1997.
• Research on brownfield redevelopment in Maryland by Howland (2000; 2003) found that those sites take no longer to sell than greenfield properties, as long as their asking prices are appropriately discounted. Further she found that the most significant impediments to brownfield redevelopment are inadequate infrastructure, incompatible surrounding land uses, and poor truck accessibility.
• In an analysis of Maryland’s Job Creation Tax Credit Program, Sohn and Knaap (2005) found that the effects of the tax credits on the location of job growth are small and sector specific, and perhaps cause more job redistribution than actual job growth.
• In a series of studies on local land use policies in Maryland, the National Center (2003; 2006) found that zoning policies and adequate public facilities ordinances can serve as impediments to development in PFAs and can deflect growth to rural areas and neighboring states.
• A comprehensive analysis of the Rural Legacy Program by the Maryland Department of Planning (Tassone et al. 2004) found that the efficacy of the program depends critically on support from local zoning ordinances. In counties where local zoning is not supportive, land fragmentation in rural legacy areas is high, residential development remains common, and conservation easements become prohibitively expensive.

These reports suggest that although Maryland has adopted some of the most innovative land use policies in the country, there is limited evidence that these policies have significantly altered urban development trends. The reasons are complex, but the available research suggests that state incentives are either too small or are poorly suited to the situation to have major impacts on land development trends, especially without supportive regulatory policies at the local level.

Reality Check Plus: Imagine Maryland

To rekindle interest in urban development trends and land use policy in Maryland, and to advance progress in land use reform, a new initiative was launched in 2005. Reality Check Plus: Imagine Maryland is a broad-based, long-term effort led by the Baltimore District Council of the Urban Land Institute (ULI), the National Center for Smart Growth Research and Education at the University of Maryland, and 1000 Friends of Maryland. It is also supported by more than 130 organizations throughout the state.

The first component of the effort involved four public participatory visioning exercises based on similar exercises in Washington, DC, and Fredericksburg, Virginia, led by ULI and the National Center for Smart Growth. In these exercises citizens representing civic, government, and business interests, including elected officials, were literally brought to the table to confront the issues of urban growth and express a desired vision for their region’s future. The Maryland exercises were held in May and June in four regions: the Eastern Shore, Southern Maryland, Western Maryland, and the Baltimore-Washington Corridor. Participants expressed their vision for where future growth should go by placing plastic Lego® blocks representing projected job and housing growth through 2030 on large, table-top regional maps.

The final results of the four Maryland exercises will not be fully integrated and analyzed until September, but preliminary results presented at each event reveal similar but distinct results (see Figure 2). The consensus visioning principles expressed public desires to (1) protect open spaces and natural resources; (2) utilize existing infrastructure; (3) concentrate growth near transit stations in existing urban areas; and (4) balance the location of jobs and households. And at all four events, the placement of Legos was consistent with these principles. Specifically, when compared with current development patterns, participants placed larger proportions of growth inside PFAs and near transit stations and highway corridors, and placed more jobs in job-poor areas.

Notable support was given in all regions for new and expanded transit service and for more regional cooperation or even regional authorities to plan for future growth. There were also some important regional differences: participants from the Eastern Shore focused on protecting the region’s small town and agrarian way of life; in Western Maryland there was concern about uneven economic growth; the primary concern in Central Maryland was traffic congestion; and in Southern Maryland there was apprehension about the impacts of growth in military jobs.

Although these exercises represent one of the largest forums on growth ever conducted in a single state, it is important not to overstate what these events can produce. A pile of Legos placed on a table for a few hours cannot be confused with a thorough analysis of alternative development patterns, a careful consideration of consequences, and a true statewide consensus about the results. These events, however, do represent an important beginning to what must be a continuing dialogue on growth in the state.

In September, during the state’s quadrennial election cycle, a synthesis of the four regional events will be presented at a statewide forum. Candidates for state and local office, including candidates for governor, will be invited to attend and pledge their support for implementing the results. In the meantime, each of the three lead organizations is developing work plans for the implementation phase. The Baltimore District Council of ULI will offer a series of education and outreach programs designed to disseminate the results of the four events throughout each region, especially to elected officials. 1000 Friends of Maryland will sponsor a series of candidate forums and regional caucuses to encourage the implementation of the results, especially through state and local policy reform. The National Center, with support from the Lincoln Institute, will conduct more extensive analyses of alternative statewide development scenarios and existing land use policies in Maryland and other states.

For Maryland, these four regional exercises, and whatever changes in land use policies may follow, represent just the latest chapter in the state’s closely watched history of land use planning and policy. For other states, these exercises represent a rare natural experiment. Can a privately led visioning exercise precipitate significant change in the substance of state and/or local land use policy, local development decisions, and development trends? Stay tuned.

The Visioning Experience

At each Reality Check Plus event, up to 10 participants at each table were asked to think about how their region should accommodate the growth projected over the next 25 years. A six-foot by eight-foot map of the region was shaded in various colors to represent the existing population and employment density. The maps also depicted major highways; subway and commuter rail lines and stations; parkland or other protected conservation areas; airports, military bases, and other government installations; and rivers, floodplains, and other bodies of water.

To encourage participants to think regionally rather than locally, all jurisdictional boundaries were intentionally omitted, although place names of cities and towns helped with orientation. Each table was staffed by a scribe/computer operator and a trained facilitator to lead the three-hour exercise. Before considering where to accommodate growth, participants were asked to reach consensus on a set of principles to guide their decisions about where to place the new development, such as protecting open space, making use of existing infrastructure, and maintaining jobs-housing balance.

The exercise used Lego® blocks of four different colors: white blocks represented the top 80 percent of new housing units in the region based on price, or essentially market-rate housing; yellow blocks represented the bottom 20 percent of housing based on price, essentially a stand-in for nonsubsidized affordable housing; black blocks represented lower density housing development that could be exchanged for higher density white blocks at a ratio of 4:1; and blue blocks represented jobs.

The maps were overlaid with a checkered grid and scaled so a single block fit on each grid. Participants who wanted to add more than one housing or employment block to a single grid simply stacked the blocks. Those who proposed a mixed-use development pattern could stack various types of blocks together. Once all the Legos were placed on the map, the result yields a three-dimensional representation of where future growth in the region is or is not desired.

After all the Legos were placed, the participants were asked to assess their work. Have they allocated jobs and households across the region in a manner consistent with their vision for what the future should hold? Does the quantity of growth seem appropriate for a 25–30 year timeframe, or would they prefer more or less growth? Finally, if they are comfortable with the consensus vision, what policies or land development tools do they favor for assuring that the preferred vision is the one that is actually realized? What new infrastructure will be necessary to accommodate the projected level of growth? What might be the environmental impacts and tax implications? The participants’ considered responses to these questions are perhaps the most important products of the exercise.

During the lunch break a team of students from the University of Maryland counted the numbers of Legos at each table, entered the information into a computer, and then converted the results into two– and three-dimensional maps for each table. The data were also analyzed and inserted into a formatted PowerPoint presentation. The slides identified results for each table in a quantitative analysis of urban development indicators, such as percentages of jobs and households within one-quarter mile of a transit station; inside metropolitan beltways; inside existing urban areas; and in existing greenfields and farmland. Other indicators measured location of affordable housing and the degree to which it is integrated with market-rate housing; and the extent of jobs-housing balance.

After lunch the participants gathered in a large auditorium to hear a presentation of the results, which included a summary of the consensus principles, selected results from various tables, and a synthesis of the results from all the tables. Subsequent events included a town hall-type panel discussion focused on how to implement the pattern of development envisioned by the participants at each regional event.

Gerrit-Jan Knaap, an economist and professor of urban studies and planning, is executive director of the National Center for Smart Growth Research and Education at the University of Maryland. He is one of three co-chairs of the Reality Check Plus visioning exercise.

Dru Schmidt-Perkins is executive director of 1000 Friends of Maryland, a statewide citizens’ coalition that supports protection of natural resources, revitalization of existing communities, preservation of historic resources, efficient and effective transportation choices, and development that takes into account the public’s interest. She is also one of three co-chairs of the Reality Check Plus project.

References

Bosselman, Fred, and David Callies. 1972. The quiet revolution in land use control. Washington, DC: Council on Environmental Quality.

Cohen, J. R. 2002. Maryland’s “smart growth”: Using incentives to combat sprawl. In Urban sprawl: Causes, consequences and policy response, G. Squires, ed. Washington, DC: Urban Institute Press.

DeGrove, John M. 2005. Planning policy and politics: Smart growth and the states. Cambridge, MA: Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Frece, John W. 2005. Twenty lessons from Maryland’s smart growth initiative. Vermont Journal of Environmental Law 6: 106–132.

Howland, Marie. 2000. The impact of contamination on the Canton/Southeast Baltimore land market. Journal of the American Planning Association 66 (4): 411–420.

———. 2003. Private initiatives and public responsibility for the redevelopment of industrial brownfields: Three Baltimore case studies. Economic Development Quarterly 17 (4): 367–381.

Howland, Marie, and Jungyul Sohn. Forthcoming. Has Maryland’s priority funding areas initiative constrained the expansion of water and sewer investments? Land Use Policy.

National Center for Smart Growth. 2003. Smart growth, housing markets, and development trends in the Baltimore-Washington Corridor. http://www.smartgrowth.umd.edu/research/pdf/KnaapSohnFreceEtAl_SGHousingMarketsBalWash_DateNA.pdf.

———. 2006. Adequate public facilities ordinances in Maryland: Inappropriate use, inconsistent standards, unintended consequences. http://www.smartgrowth.umd.edu/research/pdf/NCSG_APFOMaryland_041906.pdf.

1000 Friends of Maryland. 1999. Smart growth: How is your county doing—Baltimore Region. http://www.friendsofmd.org.

———. 2001. Smart growth: How is your county doing—Eastern Shore. http://www.friendsofmd.org.

Shen, Qing and Feng Zhang. Forthcoming, Land-use changes in a pro–smart growth state: Maryland, USA. Environment and Planning A.

Sohn, Jungyul, and Gerrit-Jan Knaap. 2005. Does the job creation tax credit program in Maryland help concentrate employment growth? Economic Development Quarterly 19: 313–326.

Tassone, Joseph, Erik Balsley, Lynda Eisenberg, Stephanie Martins, and Rich Hall. 2004. Maximizing return on public investment in Maryland’s rural land preservation programs. Annapolis, MD: Maryland Department of Planning.

Una versión más actualizada de este artículo está disponible como parte del capítulo 7 del CD-ROM Perspectivas urbanas: Temas críticos en políticas de suelo de América Latina.

Paulo Sandroni se graduó de economista en la Universidad de São Paulo en 1964 y fue profesor adjunto de economía en la Universidad Católica de São Paulo (PUC) hasta 1969, cuando dejó Brasil durante la dictadura militar. Enseñó en la Universidad de Chile en Santiago hasta 1973 y después en la Universidad de los Andes en Bogotá, Colombia, hasta 1979. Después de retornar a São Paulo, volvió a enseñar en la PUC hasta 2006 y también se incorporó a la Escuela de Administración de la Fundación Getulio Vargas (FGV).

En 1988, después de la victoria del Partido de los Trabajadores (PT) en Brasil, se incorporó al gobierno municipal de la alcaldesa Luiza Erundina en São Paulo, donde dirigió agencias dedicadas al desarrollo urbano y el transporte público. Durante un breve período, también fue viceministro de administración en el gobierno federal.

En 1994 dejó el área de gobierno municipal para continuar enseñando y realizando investigaciones sobre desarrollo urbano en ciudades de Brasil y otros países de América Latina, y publicando artículos y libros sobre economía, incluyendo un diccionario de economía que se considera como referencia primaria en Brasil. Inició su afiliación con el Instituto Lincoln en 1997. En la actualidad es consultor privado sobre temas de desarrollo urbano y transporte, y sigue enseñando en la Escuela de Administración de FGV y en programas patrocinados por el Instituto Lincoln.

Land Lines: ¿Cómo se interesó en temas de política urbana, vistos sus antecedentes en macroeconomía?

Paulo Sandroni: En 1988 −cuando era asistente de Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, ahora Presidente de Brasil y en ese entonces un candidato en las elecciones de 1989− ayudé a desarrollar programas para resolver los problemas macroeconómicos de Brasil. Después de la victoria de Luiza Erundina a la alcaldía de São Paulo en 1988, fui invitado a dirigir el programa de Operaciones Interligadas. Este programa consistía en negociar y formar sociedades entre los sectores público y privado para otorgar derechos adicionales de edificación, y usar la recaudación proveniente de la parte recuperada del incremento del valor del suelo (o plusvalía) para construir viviendas sociales para familias pobres.

También participé en el desarrollo de Operaciones Urbanas (OU), una forma de intervención para revitalizar grandes áreas de la ciudad, que también involucró la recuperación de plusvalías. Estaba fascinado por el desafío de formar parte de un grupo cuya misión era gobernar la ciudad más grande de Brasil con un proyecto de gran connotación social, y además continué asistiendo al Presidente Lula da Silva en temas macroeconómicos hasta 1998.

Land Lines: A su juicio, ¿por qué los proyectos de desarrollo urbano son un desafío tan grande?

Paulo Sandroni: La primera razón es que en los grandes proyectos que afectan los aspectos históricos, culturales, sociales y ambientales de la ciudad, la resolución de los problemas económicos y de financiamiento se debe considerar como parte del desafío, pero no son el objetivo principal. Por ejemplo, las OU que tratan de evitar el aburguesamiento y producir un entorno social más equilibrado pueden tener que usar tierras más valiosas para construir viviendas sociales. Estos proyectos requieren atención especial, porque la tierra no se puede vender usando el criterio típico de mayor y mejor uso. En Brasil hay una distinción importante entre los grandes proyectos urbanos (GPU) que pueden o no usar las herramientas de recuperación de plusvalías proporcionadas por las OU. Los GPU que están en condiciones de usar estas herramientas pueden redituar beneficios financieros y sociales, tanto para el sector público como el privado, con mayor facilidad.

Land Lines: ¿Puede describir el instrumento financiero detrás de esta política?

Paulo Sandroni: Desde 2004, los fondos para financiar las viviendas sociales y otras inversiones de infraestructura en las OU se han recaudado por medio de un nuevo instrumento ingenioso de recuperación de plusvalías llamado CEPAC (Certificado de Potencial Adicional de Construcción). Un CEPAC puede representar una cantidad determinada de metros cuadrados de derechos de construcción adicionales, dependiendo de dónde se formó la OU. Por ejemplo, en la OU de Faria Lima los CEPAC oscilaban de un mínimo de 0,8 a un máximo de 2,8 m2 y en la OU de Agua Espraiada, de 1,0 a 3,0 m2, porque los precios del suelo varían entre distintos lotes, incluso dentro de la misma OU.

La administración pública que crea y posee los derechos de desarrollo puede vendérselos a los emprendedores que quieran edificar con una densidad mayor que lo que estaba permitido previamente en esos lotes. Los CEPAC se venden en subasta a través de la bolsa, y si el interés de los emprendedores es alto, los precios pueden llegar a aumentar. No hace falta que el sector público valore la propiedad, porque el mercado se encarga de hacerlo. Los ingresos por la venta de CEPAC se depositan bajo una ley muy estricta en una cuenta separada utilizada para financiar proyectos de infraestructura y de viviendas sociales dentro de la OU, de manera que no aumenta la presión sobre el presupuesto de la ciudad.

Muchos observadores ven con recelo este instrumento porque temen que sea una forma de especulación del suelo en los mercados financieros. Creo que esto es un error, por dos razones. Primero, los especuladores agresivos en general invierten en bonos de alta liquidez que pueden aumentar de valor rápidamente en el corto plazo; los CEPAC no tienen ninguna de estas características. Segundo y más importante, el gobierno controla el mercado a esta altura del proceso. Si los precios aumentan debido a especulación, el sector público puede vender estos derechos a un precio más alto, incrementando sus ingresos proporcionalmente, o puede vender una cantidad más grande de acciones, causando un descenso del precio y neutralizando a los especuladores.

Land Lines: ¿Cómo han funcionado los CEPAC en la práctica?

Paulo Sandroni: Ambas OU que mencioné anteriormente han usado este instrumento para recaudar fondos de los emprendedores. A la fecha se ha vendido el 31 por ciento del inventario de metros cuadrados, o CEPAC, en el caso de Agua Espraiada y el 32 por ciento de Faria Lima. El caso de Agua Espraiada ilustra el proceso de licitación y la influencia de los especuladores. El gobierno de la ciudad realizó una subasta de 186.740 CEPAC en febrero de 2008, a un precio inicial de R$460 (equivalente a US$200). Un oferente trató de comprarlos todos, así que el precio subió a R$1,110 (US$480), un aumento increíble del 141 por ciento.

Meses más tarde, en octubre, otra subasta ofreció 650,000 CEPAC a un precio inicial de R$535 (US$230), pero se vendieron solamente 379.650, sin ningún aumento del precio. Entre diciembre de 2004 y febrero de 2009, la recaudación por venta de CEPAC en la OU de Faria Lima fue de R$567 millones (US$244 millones) y en la OU de Agua Espraiada fue de R$642 millones (US$276 millones). Si comparamos estos ingresos combinados de $520 millones de dólares en el curso de cuatro años con la recaudación total de impuestos sobre la propiedad en 2008, que fue de $1,25 mil millones de dólares, vemos que representa más del 40 por ciento, o alrededor del 10 por ciento anual.

Land Lines: ¿Cómo se pueden usar estos ejemplos para obtener respaldo a los medios alternativos de financiamiento del desarrollo urbano?

Paulo Sandroni: La forma clásica de financiar inversiones de capital en infraestructura es por medio de préstamos de largo plazo y transferencias de fondos federales; en general, el impuesto sobre la propiedad se usa para mantener la infraestructura y los servicios públicos. Pero en Brasil, los préstamos que pueden tomar las municipalidades y los estados están sujetos a límites estrictos. El hecho de que los ingresos por CEPAC no tengan este tipo de restricción presupuestaria agrega un valor financiero significativo a este instrumento.

Además, al igual que en los Estados Unidos y otros lados, aumentar impuestos es muy impopular. En las últimas cinco elecciones en São Paulo, por lo menos tres candidatos perdieron porque los votantes interpretaron que respaldaban un aumento de impuestos. Por lo tanto, para financiar grandes proyectos urbanos tenemos que evaluar cuánta plusvalía se va a crear, determinar cómo capturarlo y crear una situación que beneficie a todos. Los CEPAC ofrecen una alternativa viable.

Land Lines: ¿La mayoría de los proyectos de América Latina tienen tendencia al aburguesamiento? ¿Cómo se pueden hacer más socialmente aceptables?

Paulo Sandroni: En la medida que los GPU se concentren en las inversiones urbanas en infraestructura (construcción de caminos, puentes, centros comerciales, centros de negocios, etc.), el precio de la tierra probablemente aumentará en ciertas áreas afectadas, y ello contribuirá a la expulsión de familias pobres y hasta algunas de la clase media. De todas maneras, estos GPU son iniciativas del sector público, así que se pueden diseñar mecanismos para mitigar estas fuerzas de exclusión.

La legislación brasileña permite el establecimiento de ZEIS (Zonas Especiales de Interés Social) en áreas ocupadas por barrios marginales dentro del perímetro de los GPU. En estas áreas designadas, el emprendedor sólo puede construir nuevas viviendas para los pobres, aun cuando el precio de la tierra sea muy alto. Por supuesto, la oposición económica y social creada por este mecanismo es considerable entre los terratenientes y los emprendedores inmobiliarios, pero es defendida vigorosamente por las organizaciones y los residentes locales. São Paulo cuenta en la actualidad con ZEIS en cuatro GPU: Agua Branca, Faria Lima, Agua Espraiada y Rio Verde-Jacu. El ZEIS del barrio marginal Coliseu en Faria Lima, y el barrio marginal Jardim Edith en Agua Espraiada, son casos interesantes, porque están ubicados en las tierras más caras dentro de estos proyectos (ver Biderman, Sandroni y Smolka 2006).

Land Lines: ¿Cuáles son las desventajas de estas herramientas regulatorias (CEPAC, ZEIS, OU, etc.) que puedan haber dejado vacíos para el oportunismo de partes interesadas bien posicionadas?

Paulo Sandroni: Bueno, se puede encontrar corrupción y conductas antisociales en todos lados, y algunas condiciones pueden favorecerlas. Pero si uno sobrecarga el sistema con reglamentaciones y normas, se puede terminar bloqueando las iniciativas para superar estos problemas y se paraliza un proceso que puede beneficiar el interés público. Es más riesgoso, por supuesto, reducir las reglamentaciones y brindar más oportunidad para negociar, pero este riesgo se puede mitigar si se crean normas de negociación, con castigos muy severos por violarlas. Al mismo tiempo, hay ciertos asuntos que demandan una reglamentación muy precisa, como es el caso de los ZEIS, porque los grupos más pobres de la ciudad necesitan de la intervención del sector público.

Land Lines: ¿Se pueden replicar estos tipos de proyectos de São Paulo en otras ciudades de América Latina?

Paulo Sandroni: Tenemos que tener cuidado a la hora de transplantar o repetir experiencias que fueron exitosas en un país a otro. Antes de hacerlo, es importante conocer dos cosas: las condiciones imperantes en la ciudad cuando se crearon estas OU; y los tipos de problemas que los planificadores querían resolver con estos proyectos.

Por ejemplo, una condición importante en São Paulo es la separación de los derechos de edificación de los derechos de propiedad, lo cual abre un camino para cobrar por un cambio en la relación de superficie de edificación a superficie del lote. En grandes partes de la ciudad, la relación de superficie de edificación a superficie del lote, que está relacionada con las normas de zonificación, es muy baja en la actualidad, oscilando entre una y dos veces el área del lote. Cuando sea posible aumentar esta relación tres o cuatro veces sin ejercer una gran presión sobre la infraestructura, se impone un cargo sobre los dueños o emprendedores por los derechos adicionales a construir con mayor densidad.

En otras ciudades, donde la relación de superficie de edificación a superficie del lote ya sea alta, hay menos flexibilidad para cobrar por derechos de desarrollo adicionales, de manera que quizás haga falta crear otras políticas o herramientas. La lección principal es que las OU de São Paulo han demostrado que cobrarles a los propietarios o emprendedores por los derechos adicionales a edificar ha sido tanto razonable como equitativo. Ya no es social, política o aun económicamente admisible conceder estos derechos de desarrollo sin cargo.

Referencia

Biderman, Ciro, Paulo Sandroni, y Martim O. Smolka. 2006. Large-scale urban interventions: The case of Faria Lima in São Paulo (Intervenciones urbanas a gran escala: el caso de Faria Lima en São Paulo). Land Lines 18(2): 8–13.