This feature is adapted from the introduction to Nature and Cities: The Ecological Imperative in Urban Design and Planning, a compilation of essays and images by leading international landscape architects, architects, and planners, some of whose work is showcased here. The book is scheduled for publication in November 2016 by the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy, in association with the School of Architecture, The University of Texas at Austin, and George F. Thompson Publishing.

Everything seems so clear from the air, where details do not get in the way. At an elevation of 33,000 feet (10,058 meters), we see the handiwork of our actions all over the ground below, as if the landscape were our reflecting mirror. As we know, landscapes do not lie; they are the embodiment of all that we do on Earth.

Some roads parallel rivers and valleys—no ingenuity there. Other roads converge into settlements like cattle paths leading to a water tank, or they may follow deer paths and other animal trails or topographic contours and soon resemble the organic majesty of a spider’s web. Picture El Greco’s (1541–1614) home town, Toledo, Spain, from the air: a kind of perfection in organic urban form.

Old North American prairie, largely untouched until two centuries ago, now bears rectangular grids of large-scale farms with no room for any vegetation besides the crops and a thin line of trees alongside riverine and creekside banks, looking like a token tithe to nature and wildlife. And 40-acre (16.1-hectare) center-pivot circles of  corn, soybeans, or alfalfa (the trifecta of corporate agriculture) look as if someone had tossed, in perfect symmetry, large half-dollars on the land. Resembling pavements of crops stretching as far as the eye can see, even from one state to another, all this handiwork is the result of a federal farm policy insanely out of balance with nature. No wonder the butterflies and countless other creatures and plants are struggling so mightily against such unnatural odds.

New sites of natural gas extraction have popped up so suddenly and pervasively that they now permeate much of the Great Plains and interior West of North America, as if enormous prairie dogs on steroids had  burrowed through these large swaths of land. It is Gulliver’s travels all over again. Meanwhile, open-pit mines generate impressive depressions in the ground, as if meteors had crashed from outer space. The pits’ glorious russet and red and golden and sand-colored hues contrast hard against surrounding terrain, as if the mines, too, were inscribed works of art, poor attempts at recreating a subterranean Roman coliseum or a mini-Grand Canyon. Meanwhile, the new and starkly white wind-powered turbines—some spanning 413 feet (126 meters) and towering 312 feet (85–95 meters) in the sky—appear as if a giant surgeon had administered stitches of varying lengths and shapes on the land and in the sea, even as untold numbers of birds die upon impact.

Towns and cities along the coasts cram hard against the adjacent sea, with few buffers to protect communities against a rising tide that likely will be at least three feet (.9 meter) higher a century from now. And the same condition holds true for those towns and cities that reside along rivers, large and small, that naturally want to ebb and flow like the tide, overrunning banks and streets alike from time to time. Even world-class cities such as Chicago, Sydney, Tokyo, and Toronto look like LEGO sets from above and bar graphs at eye-level, in which cars and trucks move about like busy ants, and trains slide like snakes along the concrete.

Deserts, long the forlorn outposts of biblical wilderness, are now bespeckled oases of new towns, cities, and resorts, each with homes nestled against aquamarine-blue swimming pools, as if pools are required for entrance into a neighborhood. Shimmering lakes are impounded by large-scale dams, the water evaporating into the dry, cloudless sky. A jigsaw puzzle of improbably green lawns is highlighted by extensive, even more preposterously verdant golf courses. One might believe that a new school of art called Landscape Cubism had gone awry on the land.

Yet there are the exceptional expanses of undeveloped land as well. Trails such as the Appalachian, Continental, Ice Age, Grande Randonnée, Greater Patagonian, Natchez, Pacific Crest, Te Araroa, and Tokai saunter along for great distances deep into the heart and soul of their respective countries. Forests stretch for thousands and thousands of square miles and kilometers, relieving a planet in dire need of new lungs in order to process the increasing levels of carbon dioxide (CO₂). Still-intact watersheds and wetlands retain their natural place between land and water, providing incalculable value as a water supply for towns and cities downstream and as habitat for fisheries, insects, birds, and other wildlife. Contour farming thrives in harmony with the terrain and the life-giving principles of the Soil Conservation Act of 27 April 1935. And more cities boast integrated systems of parks, open spaces, and greenways, providing evidence that nature can return to the urban scene and enhance communities in biological and socioeconomic ways.[1]

The land tells us so much. And it is the role of landscape architecture, urban planning and design, and architecture to continue their pioneering ways, offering an ecological approach to the design, planning, and management of our varied landscapes—urban, suburban, rural, regional, social, and wild. It all begins on the ground, in nature and our communities, in the multiple ecologies and economies and cultures that encapsulate our home turf, wherever that may be. 

But, as we know, much of that ground is already urban, and that pervasive and expansive pattern of settlement by every account has no end in sight. So how can we do better? That scene and question are the focus of Nature and Cities: The Ecological Imperative in Urban Design and Planning. 

Even as land use may seem relatively clear and simple from the air, on the ground the picture grows more complicated, because of the unavoidable details. All aspects of life—human and natural intertwined, to varying degrees of success—appear before our very eyes, are heard by our ears, are felt by our skin and clothes by way of dew point, humidity, dry air, sunlight, evening breezes, and cool or warm temperatures. That is a lot of ground to comprehend, even within the limited scope of our senses.

Perhaps this view encompasses your backyard or city street; the one well from which you and your community draw water; a favorite gathering place; a beloved vacation spot; a scene ravaged by drought, flood, or fire; a place recovering from earthquake, cave-in, crime, or war. The imagination can transport us to any place we wish, but there is a bottom line to such inquiry. As you imagine or walk or ride or drive through that landscape around you, take it all in: every blade of grass that adorns your lawn or survives in the seam of a sidewalk; every field, common, or pasture that may be part of your everyday life; every hovel, condo, or mansion that gives you shelter; every tree, greenway, or park that embellishes your space; every economic entity and activity before you; every smell emanating from a bakery or foundry; every breath you take that, inevitably, is a respiratory cocktail of Earth’s natural elements (sand, pollen, and dust) and of all the human-induced chemicals too numerous to name.

Now that you have seen, heard, and felt that landscape, imagine that you are suddenly in charge of the scene. Your family, neighborhood, village, city,  region, and country are depending on you. First, to explain every aspect of what you perceive and to make some sense of it all—whether in a public setting or classroom or even corporate boardroom. And second, to envision, communicate, plan, and design improvements to what you see. Where would you begin? What would you do? Under what circumstances would or could you implement change? And how? Bottom-up or top-down? Diplomatically, democratically, or dictatorially? How will your vision, and its associated array of actions, be maintained, nurtured, and, perhaps, changed over time? And by whom and under what circumstances or authority?

This is the terrain that the landscape architect, architect, and planner inherit. So return to your “vision” of what your place wants to be, and consider a process by which change is sought and made through attention to three primary and overarching themes: the human need for clean water, ample and safe food, and humane shelter; the human need for economic well-being; and the natural need to take care of and heal the land, nature itself. How does one work with structure, purpose, and meaning to provide fulfillment, value, and public good? How does one add value to place, communities, cities, and regions by way of designs and plans that offer reprieve from single-purpose thinking and direct us to a sense of stewardship in its many manifestations? Importantly, how do we citizens, as part of increasingly large urban populations, reconnect with the natural world on which we are still dependent and become engaged in the benefits of ecology to biological and socioeconomic life?

Although nature is at the core of our being and every other life-form, plant, tree, soil, water, and rock on Earth, too often our human connections to nature take a backseat to all-too-prevalent interests of every kind that compete for social good and economic gain without the benefit of a land ethic, as espoused by Aldo Leopold.[2] When we look at the varied landscapes on the ground, questions arise as to how well we are actually doing as human beings in our care of this bountiful planet. 

If one travels far enough, long enough, one can still find longstanding human communities and cultures living intimately with the natural systems that surround them. Homes in the Amazon are still built on stilts to allow for the annual and seasonal fluctuations of the world’s second-longest river and world’s largest river basin. Homes in the American South have traditionally used the front and wraparound porch to offer shade and some relief from the noteworthy heat and humidity of the summer season, even as it allows for socialization from one neighbor’s house to another, as can be seen any day of the week in Vicksburg, Mississippi, where streets are lined by shotgun houses with shady front porches animated by conversation. Many Scandinavians still artfully use wood and the fine-art craft of notching to create some of the most energy-efficient cabin-homes anywhere, even as Nordic winters are among the most challenging on Earth. And, increasingly, LEED (Leadership in Energy & Environmental Design) initiatives are helping transform the world’s new architecture into energy-efficient structures, from the geothermal-powered Aldo Leopold Center in Baraboo, Wisconsin, winner of a LEED Platinum Award, to the Shanghai Expo UBPA redevelopment, the first project outside North America to receive a LEED Neighborhood Development Platinum Award. 

Beyond LEED, landscape architects, planners, ecologists, and others designed the Sustainable Sites Initiative (SITES). Now administered by Green Building Certification Inc., SITES was envisioned as LEED for the outdoors. SITES was developed through pilot projects, including those undertaken by Andropogon, OLIN, and James Corner Field Operations. Pilot projects that received certifications include Andropogon’s Shoemaker Green on the University of Pennsylvania campus and the Phipps’ Center for Sustainable Landscapes in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, OLIN’s Washington Canal Park in the District of Columbia, and James Corner Field Operations’ Woodland Discovery Playground at Shelby Farms in Memphis, Tennessee.

Yet with every passing generation that becomes ever more urban, the direct connections to nature and its bounties are reduced in spades. In too many cities around the world, nature is an afterthought. The following story is all too common:

Not very long ago, perhaps it was ten years or so, I read a piece in the newspaper that caught my attention: A boy from Harlem in New York City was being interviewed about his views on nature. He was quoted as saying that the blade of grass at his feet, the blade of grass that was emerging from a seam in the concrete sidewalk, was, to him, the embodiment of nature. It was all he needed from the natural world. Here was a sign of wildness along his city street, his home place. The blade of green grass, somehow managing to survive a half-mile away from Central Park to the south, provided that elementary presence of nature in the urban world that was his comfort zone.[3] 

Even in cities graced by larger representations of nature, these green spaces too often feel like isolated pockets for daily use or the occasional visitor, like small museums or zoos. This need not be the case; this need not be an unintended aspiration or consequence of ignorance of the multiple benefits that nature bestows when it is more fully integrated into the urban fabric of any town or city, whether in Jerusalem or Medellín or Stuttgart, Arkansas. We know how to do better. Landscape architects, architects, and planners have often led the way.

So how is it possible that towns, cities, and counties continue to ignore floodplains and sea level and willingly allow homeowners, developers, and resorts to build and rebuild in areas that contend regularly with chronic flooding and storm surges? How is it possible that a utility company can disobey the basics of common-sense planning and be permitted to construct a 564-mile (908-kilometers) natural gas pipeline on a route that will not only penetrate and divide critical habitat for rare and endangered species within existing national forests, but also overlay an area known for its extreme karst landscape and major sinkholes—thereby endangering the aquifer that lies beneath that path, a font of the greatest significance for the supply of fresh water for cities, towns, and farms throughout that region? How is it possible that mining companies are not required to close the loop and provide for the ecological restoration and reclamation of project areas as part of the economic deal? How is it possible that Rio de Janeiro was awarded the Games of the XXXI (Summer 2016) Olympiad with full knowledge that water events will be conducted in Guanabara Bay, in conditions at times equated with raw sewage? Obviously, those landscape players do not include the principles and practices of ecological design and planning as part of their respective worldview, and behold the consequences of their chosen ignorance and greed. 

The promise of ecological design and planning as it pertains to the health and welfare of our communities and cities everywhere is there for the taking, there for action, there for implementation, there for ongoing care. But too often we dismiss the obvious in how we citizens conceive of urban design and planning: we humans, by our very presence in nearly every sphere on Earth, are the essential players not only in the eternal dance with nature that is part of life and the human condition, but also the overall health and welfare of our home ground.

The essayists in Nature and Cities reveal that monumental work has been done and is ongoing in the ecological design and planning of our cities and communities at large. Because landscape architects, architects, and planners have done so repeatedly and throughout the world, we, as a society, can say with certainty that we know how to work collaboratively with all players to provide safe water, food, and shelter; reduce runoff into city streets; accommodate areas prone to flooding and storm surges; safely locate a utility corridor and design it in such a way that it becomes more than a single-purpose pathway for natural gas obtained by the unruly practice of fracking; design parking lots in commercial developments; provide citizens of the world’s cities with more than a sliver of grass in the seam of a sidewalk; restore and heal worn and contaminated sites; and provide joy and economic vitality through green design and infrastructure.

But even more progress needs to be achieved, no matter where we live, because the world is becoming more urban, and the consequences of climate change and of poverty, disease, conflict, and war are real. Once again, landscape architects, architects, and planners have been engaged historically in the process of understanding the natural world before us and its multiple manifestations on the ground, where details and interconnections matter. And, by way of their designs and plans, some of them centuries old, we have examples of finished work that has made this a better world. Landscape architects, architects, and planners have historically offered alternative visions to the failed practice of serendipity and single-purpose thinking that have, for too long, dominated the public and private view.

The contributing authors in Nature and Cities share real-life experiences and perspectives about where we can go in the future. They discuss and reveal their respective perspectives on the historical and contemporary practice of ecological design and planning in their own work and in the work of others. In many cases, this work involves award-winning and path-breaking designs and plans known throughout the world. And so reading their essays is an eye-opening experience, as we share and explore their thoughts about nature and cities, even as they offer reflective worldviews for design and planning. Collectively, the essays convey the great hope and promise of an ecological imperative in planning and urban design, of a tried-and-true approach by which nature and culture, science and art, come together in a united but creative and fluid way to make life better for all.

As is often the case, big projects, designs, and plans tend to dominate the professional view and the ability of design and planning to contribute toward this greater good. Historically, this has included a wide range of undertakings, as large as the design and construction of national parks and new cities, and as small as the private garden and urban mall. But, to most people, ecological design and planning remains an idea and approach not yet in the vernacular. That is where additional work needs to be done. And so here is another story of how far we can travel in but one generation, if landscape architects, architects, and planners are willing to seek work in new ways:

A woman from South Africa, a naturalized American citizen, was inspired by the healing powers of nature. She was well known and highly respected in the community where she lived. She was a quiet but steadfast leader in peeling back the built environment and integrating nature more fully into areas of everyday city life. Even after she was diagnosed with terminal cancer, she served the community and fellow cancer patients as if there would always be a tomorrow. When she died, she was remembered by a new serenity garden, adjacent to an existing park along a popular river. When the city organized a public dedication of the new park in her memory, an overflowing crowd of hundreds showed up on a hot, summer day.

The city manager was among the first to speak. Soon after welcoming everyone and conveying the purpose for the gathering, he began to share this message:

There is something called a “sense of place.” It is a term often hard to describe, but we certainly know a special place when we see it, be it a memorial garden such as this, an historic neighborhood or building or landscape, a community at large, or even a region. As public officials, we strive to cultivate a sense of place in many ways: by providing obvious services and an infrastructure intended to serve all, but also by making connections to the natural world. Even as we may live near one of the most popular and most visited national parks, we need nature to return to the city so that it becomes a daily experience, fully integrated into our fabric of being. Just as Anne-Marie would have wanted.[4]

We dare say that, 30 years ago, the phrase “sense of place” seemed like a pipe dream or even an illusion that had no place in our everyday lives, much less public policy. Yet today, as expressed by this 30-something city manager, the term has been fully realized and embraced. We even hear of teachers at every institutional level, proclaiming the need for and success of “place-based” education—place, of course, referring to the natural and human processes intertwined.

As the world becomes more urban, and even for those who remain tied to rural land, there is the need for “ecological design and planning” to be integrated into our collective being, into our everyday lives, in fundamental ways—just as a “sense of place” has so quickly taken hold during the preceding generation. Even as landscape architecture, urban planning and design, and architecture can continue to advance a “green” vision of a better world through specific projects, both great and small, public and private, it will require a move toward the vernacular, toward the common person, toward the common place, for that vision to be expressed, appreciated, accepted, and embraced more fully: to the point where ecological design and planning becomes an afterthought and, thus, an essential player in providing a healthy and healthful life for human beings and our compatriot life-forms. To heal Earth, our home ground, is to heal ourselves.

In many professional fields and human endeavors, a green vision for an ecological infrastructure has already been achieved. In places where this vision has been allowed to take hold, we see how an ecological approach fosters the necessary interplay between the biotic and abiotic. Establishing a watershed, for instance, as a primary unit of analysis, conservation, and concern has led to instructive work relating to combined sewer overflows (CSOs) within a hydrological system, offering citizens a safe and secure source of water. And it is easy to be impressed by the advances of rain gardens and reduced runoff and other creative solutions that mimic natural processes in biotic enrichment. The further integration of ecological, socioeconomic, and political capacities within specific communities and urban environments at large provides a tried-and-true pathway for landscape architects, architects, and planners to envision improvements at every scale and to implement them through community-based interaction and design.

Each author in Nature and Cities offers a sense of direction, purpose, and model for how landscape architecture, architecture, and planning can continue to move forward and be taken more seriously, to be engaged in community life at every scale and in every city and town in the world. This may well mean that a new generation of practitioners will need to explore pathways other than the traditional design and planning office and become instruments of enlightenment and change in occupations still very much in need of such care: notably, engineering, transportation, utilities, agriculture, resource industries, and commercial development—which, with too few exceptions, remain behind the times.

Imagine engineers embracing the tenets of ecological design and planning as they create roads, parking lots, interstates, impoundments, and other basic infrastructure. Imagine those engaged with municipal management as well as agricultural, industrial, transportation, and utility sectors abandoning single-purpose thinking and embracing something grander and more impactful in providing benefits than does a single endeavor. Imagine a young adult being able to swim in clean waters in Rio’s Guanabara Bay, a utility company finding a safe and not just the shortest path for the transfer of power and natural gas, a corporation building parking lots that percolate and repurpose runoff, a citizenry knowing that all human life begins and ends with nature, the source of all life. Imagine that.

George F. Thompson is the founder of George F. Thompson Publishing and the author and editor of seven books, including Ecological Design and Planning, with Frederick R. Steiner (John Wiley, 1997; 2007), and Landscape in America (Texas, 1995). Frederick R. Steiner is dean of the School of Architecture at the University of Texas at Austin and holds the Henry M. Rockwell Chair in Architecture. Armando Carbonell is chair of the department of Planning and Urban Form and a senior fellow at the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy.

Photograph by Iwan Baan, courtesy of James Corner Field Operations​

Nature and Cities Contributors

José M. Almiñana, Andropogon Associates, Philadelphia

Timothy Beatley, University of Virginia

James Corner, James Corner Field Operations, New York City, and the University of Pennsylvania

Susannah Drake, dland studio, Brooklyn

Carol Franklin, Andropogon Associates, Philadelphia

Kristina Hill, University of California-Berkeley

Nina-Marie Lister, Ryerson University

Elizabeth K. Meyer, University of Virginia

Forster Ndubisi, Texas A & M University

Laurie Olin, Olin, Philadelphia, Los Angeles, and the University of Pennsylvania

Kate Orff, SCAPE, New York City

Danilo Palazzo, University of Cincinnati (formerly Milan Polytechnic University)

Chris Reed, Stoss Landscape Urbanism, Boston, and Harvard University

Anne W. Spirn, Massachusetts Institute of Technology

Charles Waldheim, Harvard University

Richard Weller, University of Pennsylvania

Kongjian Yu, Peking University and Turenscape, Beijing

References

[1] To which Yi-Fu Tuan, the world-renowned geographer responded, “Is it Andy Warhol who said that he is biased in favor of the city? Why? Well, one can find nature in the city, but one cannot find the city—not even a small token of it—in the midst of nature.” Personal email to George F. Thompson. October 23, 2015.

[2] Leopold, Aldo. 1949. A Sand County Almanac. New York, NY: Oxford University Press.

[3] Thompson, George F. 2010. “Our Place in the World: From Butte to Your Neck of the Woods.” Vernacular Architecture Forum. No. 123 (Spring 2010): 1 and 3–6; quoted 1.

[4] Thompson, George F. 2014. Notes at the official dedication of the Serenity Garden, Waynesboro, Virginia. June 2014. 

Across the globe, implementing the Paris climate agreement is expected to cost more than US$12 trillion over 25 years.

So it’s not surprising that much of the conversation since the agreement was finalized in December has been about climate finance. And one of the big topics in climate finance—particularly among city leaders—is “green bonds.”

But what exactly are green bonds, and why should local authorities care about them? Here’s a brief explanation of the major issues.

What Is a Green Bond?

A green bond is a type of debt instrument much like any other bond—except that the proceeds must be earmarked for projects that produce a positive environmental impact.

The first bonds marketed this way were issued by the European Investment Bank in 2007 and World Bank in 2008. Since then, other development banks, corporations, and governments have joined the trend. According to the Climate Bonds Initiative, a research group that tracks the market, total green-bond issuances shot up from US$3 billion in 2012 to about US$42 billion in 2015.

Local authorities represent a growing slice of this market. They see green bonds as one tool that could help pay for renewable energy, transit systems, and water infrastructure, among other things.

The U.S. state of Massachusetts sold the first municipal green bond in June of 2013, followed a few months later by the city of Gothenburg, Sweden. Other recent issuers include the city of Johannesburg; the transit authorities of New York City, Seattle, and London; and the water authority of Washington, DC.

Are Green Bonds Any Different Than Other Municipal Bonds?

Not really. The mechanics work the same as any other municipal bond issuance. The main difference is the environmental aims of whatever the city is using the bond proceeds to pay for.

In addition, green-bond issuers face some additional paperwork—essentially to prove to investors that their money is actually being used to benefit the environment.

To some degree, green bonds are a marketing tool. Labeling a bond that will pay for subway repairs as “green” makes it more appealing to investors. “The reality is a lot of cities are issuing green bonds, they’re just not calling them that,” says Jeremy Gorelick, who teaches municipal finance at Johns Hopkins University in the U.S. city of Baltimore.

That may be true in advanced economies such as the United States, where a mature municipal-bond market has been functioning for more than a century. In the developing world, most cities are unable to issue bonds at all, and for a variety of reasons. In many countries, cities need to obtain legal authority from their national governments to issue a bond in the first place. They also have a lot of work to do in terms of establishing creditworthiness.

Gorelick, who is advising the city of Dakar, Senegal, on its efforts to issue its first municipal bond, recommends that cities in this situation not aim for the bond market right away. He says they can first try borrowing from central governments or their related municipal development funds before approaching development finance institutions for concessionary loans or commercial banks for market-rate debt. The idea is to build creditworthiness and the sort of transparent accounting that bond investors active in debt capital markets will demand.

Why Are Cities So Interested in Green Bonds?

There are many reasons. The key one is that investors really want green bonds in their portfolios right now. As a result, municipal issuers have seen sales of green bonds “oversubscribed”—a good problem for a city to have.

When Gothenburg issued its first green bonds in 2013, “we didn’t know if there would be any interest from investors,” says Magnus Borelius, Gothenburg’s head of treasury. Within 25 minutes, investors had placed €1.25 billion worth of orders—many times more than expected—and Gothenburg had to begin turning them away. “We were overwhelmed,” Borelius says.

Cities benefit from strong investor demand in a number of ways. Most important, it means they can attract new kinds of investors, diversifying the pool of people and institutions with an interest in their city. “It’s good to have a lot of investors know you have access to capital,” Borelius says. Since issuing green bonds, he adds,  “we’ve had increased contact with investors—they’re more interested in the city, and they’re coming to visit us.”

Strong investor demand “puts the issuer in an advantageous position,” says Lourdes Germán, a municipal finance expert with the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy. Local authorities can use their leverage to increase the size of their offering, demand a longer payback period, or seek better pricing. While some cities have reported getting more favorable pricing on green bonds, Germán says issuers shouldn’t count on it. “It remains murky whether calling it ‘green’ gets better pricing,” she says.

What’s in It for Investors?

A growing number of investors want to see their money going toward environmentally sustainable projects. Some are motivated by the fight against climate change; others are simply hedging climate risks in their portfolios.

The result is that more pension funds and private-asset managers these days have some kind of mandate to think green. For example, last month, the Swedish public pension fund AP2 said it was allocating 1 percent of its €32 billion portfolio to green bonds. When you’re talking about huge institutional investors, commitments like this add up quickly.

On top of that, municipal bonds, at least in established markets like the U.S., are generally viewed as safe investments. So green bonds issued by cities are particularly desirable. “Institutional investors have a fiduciary duty and won’t invest in a product that won’t deliver a return,” says Justine Leigh-Bell, a senior manager at the Climate Bonds Initiative. “We have here an investment-grade product by blue-chip issuers where the risk is low.”

How Do You Know If a Bond Is “Green”?

There are no hard rules around that—which is a concern for both investors and environmentalists. However, the market for green bonds is evolving quickly, and some voluntary standards are emerging for issuers.

One, developed largely by large banks through the International Capital Market Association, is called the Green Bond Principles. Another was developed through the Climate Bonds Initiative and is known as the Climate Bonds Standard. The People’s Bank of China also recently released its own guidelines on green bonds.

Nobody has to use these standards, but there’s a strong push in the direction of doing so. “If I called my fire truck ‘green,’ investors might raise an eyebrow,” Germán says. “But it’s a two-sided market, so there’s some check and balance. An issuer will raise that money only if an investor believes it’s really for a green purpose.”

A growing number of municipal issuers are seeking out third-party opinions to validate their bonds’ “greenness.” That’s what Gothenburg does. The Swedish city also has created a “green bond framework” to be transparent with investors about what the city considers “green” and how it selects projects.

“It’s still early days in this market,” says Skye d’Almeida, who manages the sustainable infrastructure finance network for the C40 Cities Climate Leadership Group. “So it’s very important to avoid any ‘greenwashing’ scandals where cities say they issued a green bond and investors find out down the track that it wasn’t green. That would erode confidence in the market. So having some independent party verify and being very transparent about the use of the proceeds is something cities should be prepared to do.”

Does It Create a Lot of Extra Work or Cost for the City to Issue a Green Bond?

Some. Leigh-Bell puts the cost of an independent review at between US$10,000 andUS$50,000, depending on who is doing the review and other factors. That’s a rounding error on deals that are often valued in the hundreds of millions of dollars.

Issuing green bonds can create extra work for city staff. Ahead of an issuance, there’s the need to scour the city’s capital investment plans for projects that qualify as green. Afterward, there’s work involved in tracking the use of proceeds and reporting that information to investors. According to d’Almeida, these jobs have the positive side effect of forcing people to work across their silos—finance staff must collaborate with transportation or environmental staff, for instance.

Borelius says that has been the case in Gothenburg. “The first question people ask me about green bonds is, ‘How much extra work is it?’” he says. “If you don’t put treasury people and sustainability people at the same table, it will be a lot of extra work. But if you’re issuing a green bond, you should have that in place.”

Johannesburg Mayor Mpho Parks Tau agrees that mobilizing around green bonds has paid organizational dividends. Asked recently if labeling bonds “green” is mostly about marketing, the mayor responded that the exercise has been useful for aligning local government as an institution around his environmental agenda. “We are able to say to the institution, actually, the bulk of our capital program is going to be about sustainability.”

Christopher Swope is managing editor of Citiscope.

Image credit: Dennis Tarnay, Jr. / Alamy

This article originally appeared at Citiscope.org. Citiscope is a nonprofit news outlet that covers innovations in cities around the world. More at Citiscope.org.

This article is adapted from Buy-in for Buyouts: The Case for Managed Retreat from Flood Zones, a Policy Focus Report to be published in September 2016 by the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy in conjunction with Regional Plan Association.

Hurricane Irene and Superstorm Sandy cost the New York metropolitan area an unprecedented number of lives and properties. In the span of 14 months, between August 2011 and October 2012, the storms killed 83 residents and caused $80 billion of damage in New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut. More than $60 billion in recovery funding was allocated to local governments, home owners, and facilitators to repair roads and seawalls; elevate, secure, or acquire buildings; restore dunes and wetlands; and reconstruct communities. 

The hurricanes generated a regional dialogue about how to prepare for and respond to extreme weather events. These conversations led to state-of-the-art, government-sponsored design competitions such as Rebuild by Design. And at the federal level, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers (USACE) conducted the two-year, $19.5 million North Atlantic Coast Comprehensive Study, which focused on how to protect Northeast residents from hurricanes. 

Yet nearly five years later—after recovery efforts have been completed and appropriate programs implemented—many communities in the region still could not withstand the surge levels of another Sandy or the riverine flooding of another Irene. And by 2050, the number of residents vulnerable to flooding in the region will likely double to 2 million people, due to rising sea levels, the increasing frequency and magnitude of storms, and steady population growth. One third of the victims will be socially vulnerable. 

The Case for Buyouts

Rebuilding and restoring are the most common and popular adaptation tools for strengthening community resilience in the face of climate change, but the strategy that most effectively eliminates risk is managed retreat through the use of buyout programs. Yet, because of the social and political complexity of managed retreat, governments and communities across the United States have largely dismissed it as an adaptation strategy. 

Typically funded by federal or state dollars and managed at the state or county levels, buyout programs are designed to provide a mechanism for residents to sell their homes and move to safer locations if they no longer want to live in high-risk flood zones. New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut all employed buyout programs on a limited scale following Hurricane Irene and Superstorm Sandy, but too often this approach was considered controversial even for the hardest hit areas.

Indeed, managed retreat poses considerable challenges. For home owners, the decision to leave a community can be traumatic, especially if adequate and affordable housing is hard to find nearby. For municipalities, the loss of tax revenue from bought-out properties can have a serious impact on the local budget. On a higher level, urban planning’s dubious history of relocating low-income communities, ostensibly for the greater good, stands as a reminder of how well-intentioned, even necessary measures such as managed retreat can have disproportionate negative impacts if they are not carefully considered in close consultation with residents. 

But if these problems are carefully considered during the design and implementation process, the benefits of buyouts can outweigh the risks. Unlike other adaptation measures, retreat is a one-time investment that requires no further action beyond providing relocation assistance to participants and protecting the natural landscape left behind. Managed retreat also has the potential to create synergies with other resilience and adaptation strategies. Since development is not permitted on acquired land, buyouts can be used to implement projects such as sea wall construction, wetlands restoration, and many other engineered and nature-based resilience measures. Residents can forge new beginnings on safer ground and help create public amenities by allowing for the acquisition of homes in flood-prone areas and restoration of the land to natural floodplain functions.

While the promise of buyouts is great—yielding 100 percent risk reduction, a greater return on public investment, and other benefits to communities and habitats—they have attracted only $750 million of the billions in federal aid allocated for resilience and recovery in the New York metropolitan region. The vast majority of recovery efforts have focused on more popular adaptation measures.

Buyouts in the New York Metropolitan Region

This article highlights the experience of three cities in Connecticut, New York, and New Jersey that adopted buyout programs after suffering major property loss from Hurricane Irene or Superstorm Sandy. The case studies demonstrate that buyout programs are a useful tool for moving residents in flood zones out of harm’s way, but they also illustrate the limitations of current programs. 

Buyout Programs in the New York Region

NY Rising
New York State established the New York Rising Buyout and Acquisition Programs (NY Rising) in order to address the damage caused by hurricanes Irene and Sandy as well as Tropical Storm Lee between 2011 and 2013. In a handful of designated “enhanced buyout areas,” including Oakwood Beach on Staten Island, home owners were offered the pre-storm value of their homes, plus incentives for group participation to prevent the so-called “checkerboarding” of bought-out properties. 

Blue Acres
The Blue Acres program, run by the New Jersey Department of Environmental Protection, predates hurricanes Irene and Sandy, but it has benefited from the funding made available after those storms. In recent years, the program has mainly targeted neighborhoods in Sayreville and Woodbridge, and identified individual properties or clusters of properties that experienced repetitive or severe repetitive losses.

Other Federally Funded Programs
In many cases, buyout programs are administered on the local level and funded largely through federal grant programs such as FEMA’s Hazard Mitigation Grant Program (HMGP) and the USDA’s Emergency Watershed Protection Floodplain Easement Program (EWP-FPE). Typically, federal grants for buyouts require a local funding match of 25 percent.

Oakwood Beach, New York

Oakwood Beach is located on the central part of Staten Island’s South Shore. The lowest-lying portion of the neighborhood is situated next to the marshes of Great Kills Park. The most serious flood risks come from storm surge off the Raritan Bay and Lower New York Harbor. Additionally, sections of the neighborhood experience nuisance flooding following even modest rainfall. Along with the neighboring upland community of Oakwood, Oakwood Beach has a population of 22,000, and nearly 3,000 residents live in current FEMA Special Flood Hazard Zones. The number of people within high-risk flood zones is expected to increase nearly 150 percent, to 7,300 by 2050. 

Oakwood Beach is a middle-class community with a median annual household income of $89,000. The neighborhood is 31 percent low-to-moderate income, 16 percent nonwhite, and 69 percent owner-occupied. The neighborhood was largely developed in the 1960s and 1970s; nearly half its residents have lived in the community for more than 25 years. In general, the homes built closer to the water are smaller and cheaper than those located farther upland. Single-family homes dominate the neighborhood, but there are a handful of apartment buildings inland.

Hurricane Sandy severely impacted Oakwood Beach. The storm surge overtopped the boulevard that runs along the coast and damaged the berm between the neighborhood and the Atlantic Ocean. The surge inundation was exacerbated by the floodwaters trapped within the “bowl” topography of the South Shore (SIRR 2013). In Oakwood Beach, some homes were swept off their foundations; others were flattened. Staten Island as a whole was among the hardest hit areas, with 23 storm-related deaths in the borough (SIRR 2013; Koslov 2014). Prior to Sandy, Oakwood Beach withstood several other historic floods, including intense inundation from a nor’easter in 1992 and flooding from Hurricane Irene in 2011 (Oakwood Beach Buyout Committee 2015; Koslov 2014). After the 1992 storm, residents organized a Flood Victims’ Committee to petition for better flood protection from the state and federal government. Although the USACE somewhat addressed their concerns by constructing a berm, it was not completed until ten years after the nor’easter (Koslov 2014).

Building on their experience organizing for flood protection in the 1990s, Oakwood Beach residents moved quickly to plan their recovery after Hurricane Sandy. At an early community meeting devoted to immediate disaster response and aid, one organizer asked if residents would support a buyout program. Nearly all community members in attendance said yes. Residents then formed the Oakwood Beach Buyout Committee, which began to draft an application for a state buyout. The committee conducted outreach to gauge interest and provided information to residents about what a buyout program might entail. The committee collected signatures from nearly all the neighborhood’s residents to indicate their interest (Lavey 2014). Additionally, committee members surveyed residents about where they felt safe living within the neighborhood, in order to generate maps of priority acquisition areas. 

This mapping effort is a powerful tool for communities organizing to receive buyouts. However, some populations that are considering buyouts are settling in marginal flood-prone areas because they have suffered government-imposed relocations and disinvestments in the past. If buyout program plans are not community-driven, they risk continuing this pattern of marginalization. As we observed in post-Katrina New Orleans, residents understandably opposed buyout programs proposed by outside planners who hadn’t consulted with the local population. By contrast, Oakwood Beach residents collaboratively created their own “green dot” maps to convey their goals for a buyout program and to confirm that they did not want redevelopment in their flood-prone area. 

The NY Rising Program heeded residents’ requests and launched a buyout program for Oakwood Beach. As of June 2015, nearly 99 percent of the neighborhood’s residents have participated. The state plans to purchase 326 properties, an acquisition process that will be completed in 2016. As of February 2015, the state owned 296 properties and had demolished 60 (Rush 2015; Governor’s Office of Storm Recovery 2015). 

The relative success of Oakwood Beach’s buyout program is not surprising considering the fiscal context. Factoring in the projected sea level rise by 2050, a single 100-year flood event could cause $216 million of damage across 1,837 properties, and 830 would have to be demolished. As summarized in table 1 (p. 32), a buyout of only those 830 properties would save community residents $817,000 per year in flood insurance premiums and an annualized average of $5.7 million in damages and dislocation costs. In terms of the potential costs to communities, Oakwood Beach benefits from being only one neighborhood in a very large city. The loss in tax revenue is quite negligible in the context of New York City’s $75 billion budget.

Wayne, New Jersey

Wayne is a township of 55,000 people in the outer ring of northern New Jersey suburbs. Twenty percent of households are low-to-moderate income, 20 percent of residents are nonwhite, and 80 percent are home owners. The town is landlocked but lies within the Passaic River Basin. Approximately 12 miles of Wayne’s western border is formed by the Pompton River, which has a history of flooding. Additionally, the township has several lakes and streams with development encroaching on flood zones. Approximately 5,400 people (nearly 10 percent of the total population) currently live in Special Flood Hazard Areas. Wayne is the wealthiest of the case studies, but the town has experienced the slowest property value growth since 2000. FEMA has provided $6.9 million in individual assistance to Wayne home owners since 2007, and 15 percent of registrants occupy repetitive-loss properties.

Wayne has experienced severe flooding since colonial times. The most severe flood to impact the entire Passaic River Basin occurred in 1903. Since then, several major floods have occurred each decade. Although the USACE began plans to reduce flooding in the Passaic River Basin in 1936, a comprehensive plan for the area has yet to be implemented.

The first buyouts in the Passaic River Basin began in 1995, after the New Jersey Department of Environmental Protection (NJDEP) formed its Blue Acres Program. They have continued through various funding sources, including NJDEP, FEMA, and open space taxes, in the case of municipalities in Morris County. However, Wayne was not included in the first round of buyouts through the Blue Acres Program in the late 1990s. As a result, municipal officials approached the state about funding the town, which led to several other programs. In 2005, the NJDEP and USACE identified the Hoffman Grove neighborhood in Wayne as a priority area for buyout funding (USACE 2005). A series of allocations since 2005, including additional funding after hurricanes Irene and Sandy, allowed for the purchase and removal of 96 homes in the Hoffman Grove neighborhood. FEMA was the primary source of funding for these purchases; the Blue Acres Program provided the nonfederal match. Despite these significant subsidies, news sources reported that “there is no immediate funding to buy and raze the houses that are left standing” (McGrath 2011). Nevertheless, all but 29 homes in this neighborhood have now been purchased and removed.

In May 2015, the USACE, together with NJDEP, released a follow-up to that 2005 study and identified 27 additional properties within Hoffman Grove as priorities for acquisition. Municipal officials in Wayne are now working to identify willing residents in order to move the program forward. Once these buyouts are complete, the entirety of the Hoffman Grove neighborhood will return to a floodplain.

The buyout programs in Wayne more closely resemble the FEMA buyout programs that began in the 1990s in response to the Great Flood of 1993, given Wayne’s vulnerability to seasonal and storm-related riverine flooding. Buyouts have undergone greater testing in riverine settings, leading to simpler program designs. Additionally, lower property values in inland riverine areas make it possible for buyout programs to purchase a greater number of homes. (Following disasters, property values of riverine flood properties are less resilient than coastal property values.)

The fiscal impact analysis for Wayne reveals that, after the acquisition of 96 Hoffman Grove properties, the township has a relatively small number of properties vulnerable to severe flooding compared to the other case studies. Even so, a 100-year flood event could still severely damage 127 homes, costing $25 million, as shown in table 1 (p. 32). It is worth noting that applying Wayne’s buyout program to the remaining most vulnerable properties may lead to an average of $840,000 in lost tax revenues per year. 

Milford, Connecticut

Milford is a coastal city of 52,000 people, midway between Bridgeport and New Haven on Long Island Sound. Milford has the longest coastline of any town in Connecticut (14 miles) plus two significant rivers, the Wepawaug and Housatonic, leaving residents vulnerable to both coastal and riparian flooding. Oceanfront property is one of Milford’s most prized amenities, and the town has more waterfront homes than any other case study in this article. Currently, there are 8,100 Milford residents in the 100-year flood zone, with a 26 percent increase projected by 2050. Milford also has the most repetitive-loss properties of any municipality in Connecticut. Since 2007, Milford residents have made up 20 percent of registrants in FEMA’s individual assistance program; FEMA awarded them $3.5 million. The town is 25 percent low-to-moderate income, 15 percent nonwhite, and overwhelmingly owner-occupied.

Milford’s own analysis confirmed the city’s extreme vulnerability. A Category 2 hurricane has the potential to inundate more than 2,000 properties, including 35 city facilities. More than 1,500 homes were damaged by Irene and Sandy, over 200 severely (Daley 2014). An excess of $60 million in flood insurance claims were paid to Milford residents in 2011 and 2012 (City of Milford 2015). A year after Sandy, entire streets and dozens of homes remained empty, while many others were elevated on piles and rebuilt. As in many areas damaged by Sandy, government funding came slowly, which retarded recovery (Zaretsky 2013). An estimated 4,000 to 5,000 homes in the city may still need to be elevated to satisfy building code requirements (Buffa 2013).

The primary strategies for combating flood risk in Milford have included beach nourishment projects, building retrofits and elevations, revetments, jetties, and groins. The city’s 2013 Hazard Mitigation Plan outlined over $14.4 million in flood mitigation projects, including elevating structures, protecting or upgrading critical infrastructure such as the wastewater treatment plant, and replenishing dunes (City of Milford 2013). The highest-priority projects were neighborhood drainage systems and catch basins. Due to lack of funding, however, many proposed projects either stalled or have not begun. 

The USACE evaluated the coastline of Milford for the North Atlantic Coast Comprehensive Study and found that the implementation of structural measures, like beach fill or dune projects, may be limited due to space constraints even in areas where these approaches might normally be most cost effective. If these measures are not applicable, flood proofing, and even acquisition and relocation, might be the most economical long-term strategies (USACE 2015). These challenges are shared by many highly developed areas along the eastern Atlantic coast. Buyouts can be difficult to secure in the short term, and structural solutions do not effectively reduce risk. 

Yet buyouts have received some attention from the city’s residents. FEMA Hazard Mitigation Grant funds were used to buy several properties. Additionally, Milford has received $1.4 million from the USDA Floodplain Easement Program to buy at-risk properties (USDA n.d.). Despite available funding, however, the programs received only seven applicants in 2013. Furthermore, the city’s official position was “unenthusiastic” (Spiegel 2013). Milford stakeholders interviewed for this report cited concerns over the loss of the municipal tax base as the primary cause of resistance to buyouts, as coastal property owners pay the highest property taxes.

From the state’s perspective, Milford presented a promising case for a buyout program since many of the repetitive-loss properties were adjacent to the Silver Sands State Park, and acquired parcels could be incorporated into the park. Stakeholders indicated that positive alternative models for development are needed to encourage participation in buyout programs. The fiscal analysis performed for this study reveals that, while buyouts would impact property taxes, the effects would not be as severe as perceived by municipal officials. As a percentage of the most recent budget, buyouts of the most vulnerable properties would result in only a 1.36 percent loss in revenue, as indicated in table 1 (p. 32). 

Milford’s vulnerable properties have the highest average value among the case studies. Factoring in 2050 sea level rise projections, Milford’s most vulnerable homes—those that could suffer over 50 percent damage—could face $204 million in damage and dislocation costs over the next 100 years. Relocating home owners from just these properties that are most at risk could save $435,000 in annual flood insurance premiums. 

Conclusion

Buyout programs have long been avoided in public dialogue. Yet when weighed against the magnitude of risk faced by some U.S. coastal and riverine communities, they can be a viable and effective way to enable retreat from flood zones. As tools to preserve communities and strengthen resilience, they deserve serious consideration.

The three case studies highlight both the potential value of buyout programs and the political, social, and economic challenges of implementing them. Many factors contributed to the relative success of buyout participation in Oakwood Beach and Wayne and to the failure in Milford. The timing of the program, the level of program engagement with residents, the attachment to place, and the availability or lack of alternatives all played a role. In order to meet the needs of residents and municipalities, we must rethink the goals, strategies, and time frame of buyout programs, improve the administration of funding, reform the planning process, and design minimally disruptive programs. 

For an in-depth exploration of managed retreat in the New York metropolitan region, see the forthcoming Policy Focus Report, Buy-in for Buyouts: The Case for Managed Retreat from Flood Zones, to be published in September 2016 by the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy in conjunction with Regional Plan Association.

Robert Freudenberg is director of Energy and Environment at Regional Plan Association (RPA), where Ellis Calvin is an associate planner in the same department. Laura Tolkoff is a former senior planner for Energy and Environment, and Dare Brawley is a former research analyst at RPA.

Photograph: Tom Pioppo/FEMA (2011)

References

Buffa, Denise. 2013. “Storm-Battered Shoreline Gets a Lift, One House at a Time.” Hartford Courant. August 3. http://articles.courant.com/2013-08-03/news/hc-houselifter-20130803_1_houses-milford-contractor-coastline.

City of Milford. 2015. “Flood Insurance Claims Paid to Milford Residents by Year.”

Daley, Beth. 2014. “Milford, East Haven Top Connecticut in Costly Flood-Prone Homes.” New Haven Register. March 21. http://www.nhregister.com/general-news/20140321/milfordeast-haven-top-connecticut-in-costly-flood-prone-homes.

Governor’s Office of Storm Recovery. 2015. “Notice of Change of Use of Acquisition Properties by NY Rising.” New York.

Koslov, Liz. 2014. “Fighting for Retreat after Sandy: The Ocean Breeze Buyout Tent on Staten Island.” Metropolitics. April 23. http://www.metropolitiques.eu/Fighting-for-Retreat-afterSandy.html.

Lavey, Nate. 2014. “Retreat from the Water’s Edge.” The New Yorker. http://www.newyorker.com/news/news-desk/hurricane-sandy-retreat-waters-edge.

McGrath, Matthew. 2011. “Hoffman Grove is More Wilderness than Neighborhood.” NorthJersey.com. December 30. http://www.northjersey.com/news/wayne-neighborhood-surrendering-to-the-river-1.276454.

Oakwood Beach Buyout Committee. 2015. “About Us.” http://foxbeach165.com/about-us/.

Rush, Elizabeth. 2015. “Leaving the Sea: Staten Islanders Experiment with Managed Retreat.” Urban Omnibus. http://urbanomnibus.net/2015/02/leaving-the-sea-staten-islanders-experiment-with-managed-retreat/.

Special Initiative for Rebuilding and Resiliency (SIRR). 2013. “A Stronger, More Resilient New York.” City of New York. http://www.nyc.gov/html/sirr/html/report/report.shtml.

Spiegel, Jan Ellen. 2013. “Despite Storms, Few Coastal Homeowners are Open to Buyouts.” Connecticut Mirror. September 16. http://ctmirror.org/2013/09/16/despite-storms-few-coastalhomeowners-are-open-buyouts/.

U.S. Army Corps of Engineers (USACE). 2005. “Passaic River Floodway Buyout Study Limited Update: Final Report and Environmental Assessment.”

U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. 2015b. “North Atlantic Coast Comprehensive Study: Main Report.”

U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA). n.d. “Emergency Watershed Protection Program — Floodplain Easement Option.” http://www.nrcs.usda.gov/wps/portal/nrcs/detail//?cid=nrcs143_008225.

Zaretsky, Mark. 2013. “1 Year After Superstorm Sandy, Recovery Moves Slowly on Connecticut Shore.” New Haven Register. October 26. http://www.nhregister.com/generalnews/20131026/1-year-after-super-storm-sandy-recovery-moves-slowly-on-connecticut-shore.

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

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

The Intermountain West

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

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

Growth and Change

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Planning for Change

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

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

The Context for Climate Planning in the West

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

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

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

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

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

Unlocking Climate Action in the West

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

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

Tools for Change

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

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

Information Exchange and Training

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

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

Value Setting Planning Tools

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

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

Anticipatory Governance Methods and Tools

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

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

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

Conclusion

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

About the Authors

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

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

References

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Web Links

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Una gama de futuros

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Enseñanzas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Una herramienta adaptativa y evolutiva

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Range of Futures

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lessons Learned

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An Adaptive and Evolving Tool

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

50 años de planificación para la recuperación ante catástrofes

Laurie Johnson es una planificadora urbana internacionalmente reconocida, especializada en la recuperación y gestión de riesgos por catástrofes. Es científica visitante encargada de proyectos en el Centro de Investigaciones de Ingeniería Sísmica del Pacífico de la Universidad de California-Berkeley; es presidente del directorio del Comité Nacional de Asesoramiento de los EE.UU. para la Reducción de Riesgos Sísmicos; y forma parte del comité directivo de la organización Geotechnical Extreme Event Reconnaissance.

Robert Olshansky es profesor y director del Departamento de Planificación Urbana y Regional de la Universidad de Illinois en Urbana-Champaign. Su campo de docencia e investigación gira en torno al uso del suelo y la planificación medioambiental, con énfasis en la planificación ante catástrofes naturales. Ha publicado gran cantidad de material sobre planificación para la recuperación posterior a las catástrofes; planificación y políticas para el riesgo sísmico; planificación de laderas y políticas sobre deslizamiento de tierras; y evaluación del impacto medioambiental.

A lo largo de los años, Laurie y Rob han sido coautores de varias publicaciones, tales como Opportunity in Chaos: Rebuilding After the 1994 Northridge and 1995 Kobe Earthquakes (Una oportunidad en medio del caos: la reconstrucción después de los terremotos de Northridge en 1994 y Kobe en 1995) y Clear as Mud: Planning for the Rebuilding of New Orleans (Tan claro como el barro: Planificación para la reconstrucción de Nueva Orleáns). En el presente artículo, los autores hablan sobre su colaboración y su trabajo en un libro y en el informe sobre Enfoque en Políticas de Suelo del Instituto Lincoln de próxima aparición, After Great Disasters: How Six Countries Managed Community Recovery (Después de una gran catástrofe: cómo hicieron seis países para gestionar la recuperación de sus comunidades).

Land Lines: Ustedes dos juntos suman más de 50 años de experiencia trabajando en el campo de la planificación para la recuperación ante catástrofes. ¿Qué los llevó a cada uno a especializarse en esta área?

Robert Olshansky: Siempre he estado interesado en los aspectos de la planificación urbana en las catástrofes: cómo diseñar ciudades que coexistan con estas fuerzas, cómo ser más estratégicos y pragmáticos a la hora de generar políticas de reducción de riesgos, y cómo responder adecuadamente a los acontecimientos naturales cuando ocurren. Sin embargo, hasta mediados de la década de 1990, siempre me enfoqué en la planificación y las políticas previas a las catástrofes.

Todo cambió con los “terremotos gemelos” que tuvieron lugar el 17 de enero de 1994 en Northridge, California, y el 17 de enero de 1995 en Kobe, Japón. Observaba detenidamente el proceso de recuperación en Los Ángeles cuando, al cumplirse un año de la catástrofe de Northridge, el terremoto de Kobe me ayudó a entrever lo que una catástrofe de verdaderas grandes proporciones podría infligir a un área urbana moderna. Un mes más tarde, me encontré con Laurie Johnson en una conferencia, donde descubrimos nuestros intereses en común en aprender algo de estas dos catástrofes, y así comencé este camino.

Pronto me di cuenta de que la recuperación es, paradójicamente, la manera más efectiva de mitigar los riesgos a largo plazo, ya que las catástrofes aumentan la conciencia sobre las fuerzas naturales y ayudan a generar los recursos para atacar el problema. También descubrí que las catástrofes brindan a los planificadores oportunidades únicas para mejorar el entorno urbano. A la inversa, si no estamos preparados para estas oportunidades, podríamos llegar a atascarnos en nuestros nuevos errores por años. Como planificador, veo la recuperación como uno de los mayores desafíos de nuestra profesión, ya que abarca todas las complejidades multidisciplinarias de nuestro campo y nos brinda algunas de las mayores oportunidades para corregir nuestros errores del pasado. Sin embargo, el proceso transcurre en un marco de tiempo muy estrecho, en medio de tensiones y frustraciones de consideración, lo que lo vuelve particularmente difícil de gestionar. Cada nueva situación de recuperación representa un caso de estudio multifacético en sí mismo.

Laurie Johnson: Antes de comenzar a colaborar con Rob, estudié Geofísica y, luego, Planificación urbana. Poco después de graduarme en 1988, me mudé al área de la Bahía de San Francisco, donde trabajé para William Spangle y George Mader, pioneros en la planificación del uso del suelo en áreas geológicamente peligrosas. Cuando ocurrió el terremoto de Loma Prieta en 1989, nos involucramos más activamente con las ciudades del área de la Bahía en la recuperación posterior a la catástrofe y las cuestiones de reconstrucción.

Con el apoyo de la Fundación Nacional de Ciencias, realizamos una de las primeras conferencias de su clase sobre la reconstrucción posterior a un terremoto, que tuvo lugar en la Universidad de Stanford en 1990. Asistieron a la conferencia planificadores de ciudades de todos los Estados Unidos con probabilidad de sufrir terremotos, quienes aprendieron de planificadores que habían liderado las medidas de reconstrucción posteriores a los mayores terremotos urbanos del mundo, ocurridos en Skopje, Macedonia (antigua Yugoslavia, 1963); Managua, Nicaragua (1972); Friuli, Italia (1976); El Asnam, Argelia (1980); Ciudad de México (1985); y Armenia (1988). Fue precisamente durante esos años cuando comencé a interesarme por la reconstrucción de las comunidades, particularmente por cómo mejorar la capacidad de los gobiernos municipales para gestionar y liderar la recuperación posterior a una catástrofe.

LL: Laurie, usted tiene un doctorado en Informática por la Universidad de Kioto. ¿Por qué decidió ir a estudiar a ese lugar?

LJ: Ya había intentado comenzar con un trabajo de doctorado un par de veces a comienzos de mi carrera; sin embargo, finalmente las estrellas se alinearon en 2006, cuando el profesor Haruo Hayashi me invitó a unirme al centro de investigación de catástrofes que él lideraba en la Universidad de Kioto. Me retrasé nuevamente cuando fui a trabajar con el plan de recuperación posterior a Katrina durante el período 2006–2007. No obstante, resultó que la experiencia de recuperación en Nueva Orleáns ofreció una oportunidad de intercambio enriquecedor con colegas japoneses que habían estado profundamente involucrados en la recuperación de Kobe. Al principio, mi idea era comparar los enfoques que los Estados Unidos y Japón tenían sobre la gestión de la recuperación ante catástrofes de gran escala y utilizar este análisis para mi tesis, pero finalmente realicé un análisis comparativo de la gestión de recuperación en tres ciudades de los Estados Unidos: Grand Forks (Dakota del Norte), Los Ángeles (California) y Nueva Orleáns (Louisiana). Realmente valoré la oportunidad que tuve de reflexionar sobre los distintos enfoques adoptados por los Estados Unidos con mis colegas de Japón, quienes, debido a que provenían de un sistema de gobierno diferente, me ayudaron a identificar varios elementos conflictivos derivados de las políticas y otros vacíos que, de otra manera, no hubiera podido apreciar.

LL: Rob, después del huracán Katrina, usted y Timothy Green llevaron a cabo una investigación para el Instituto Lincoln sobre el programa Road Home, que entregó más de 8 mil millones de dólares a propietarios de viviendas en Nueva Orleáns para reparar sus hogares o vendérselos al estado. En esta investigación, ustedes observaron que los residentes de las áreas más inundadas eran los que con mayor probabilidad se mudarían de esas zonas (ver Green y Olshansky, “Homeowner Decisions, Land Banking, and Land Use Change in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina”, 2009). ¿Sabe usted si ese patrón (que sugiere una respuesta muy racional ante el riesgo) ha permanecido en el tiempo?

RO: De hecho, observamos que la profundidad de la inundación era la variable que mayor correlación tenía con la decisión de vender y mudarse. El valor de la vivienda, los ingresos, la raza y los años de ocupación no fueron factores significativos, al menos a la escala de los datos que manejamos. Este es un resultado positivo en términos de políticas destinadas a las inundaciones y, ciertamente, es mejor que haber descubierto que la profundidad de la inundación no tenía efecto alguno sobre el comportamiento de los propietarios. Sin embargo, aún no queda claro si los patrones reales de reconstrucción han cambiado, ya que los datos sencillamente no están disponibles. No obstante, visualmente, las áreas de la ciudad que presentan un menor nivel de reconstrucción se encuentran, generalmente, en las zonas más bajas, donde se produjo la mayor cantidad de daños. Así que puedo responder que sí: esta situación parece reflejar una respuesta racional ante el riesgo de inundación.

Por otro lado, los motivos de dicha respuesta pueden variar entre los diferentes grupos de ingresos. Creo que muchos de los lotes en zonas bajas pero de altos ingresos fueron adquiridos posteriormente por compradores que construyeron viviendas en ellos, mientras que muchos propietarios de bajos ingresos que intentaron reconstruir sus hogares no tuvieron los recursos económicos para hacerlo. Por lo tanto, para poder afirmar que la mayoría de las personas se comportó de manera “racional” frente al riesgo de inundación deberíamos tener en cuenta un contexto más amplio. Además, aunque la profundidad de la inundación tuvo una correlación positiva con la decisión de vender, la mayoría de los propietarios de viviendas en las zonas más inundadas de la ciudad (del 52 por ciento al 79 por ciento, dependiendo del lugar) optaron aun así por permanecer en el lugar y reconstruir sus hogares.

LL: ¿Cuáles son los desafíos que enfrentan los programas de compra de propiedades, como Road Home, y otras estrategias de reubicación destinadas a evitar la recurrencia de pérdidas catastróficas?

LJ: En los Estados Unidos, la práctica de la compra de propiedades en terrenos inundables posterior a una catástrofe está bastante establecida. Los programas de compra voluntarios están dirigidos por lo general a hogares unifamiliares que se encuentran dañados en más del 50 por ciento a raíz de una inundación, o que se encuentran dentro de la zona inundable con proyección de 100 años establecida por la Agencia Federal de Gestión de Emergencias (FEMA). Sin embargo, las fuentes federales de financiamiento para catástrofes, como el programa de subsidios para la mitigación de riesgos de FEMA, también requieren que las áreas en las que se encuentran las viviendas que se comprarán permanezcan como espacios abiertos o tengan algún otro uso sin ocupación. De esta manera, si las comunidades inundadas tienen pocas viviendas disponibles o pocas oportunidades para construir en terrenos baldíos, tanto los precios de alquiler como de venta de las viviendas en esa área pueden aumentar de manera considerable, y los residentes pueden tomar la decisión de mudarse, lo que representaría un freno a las economías municipales.

Por su propia naturaleza, las grandes catástrofes trastornan los sistemas físicos, sociales, económicos e institucionales de las comunidades a las que afectan. Un programa de compra de propiedades de gran alcance puede crear otra ola de trastornos que se propague a todos estos sistemas si no se diseña y gestiona de manera adecuada. En tiempos de normalidad, dichos sistemas no se encuentran bajo tal estrés ni están tan estrechamente relacionados, por lo que los trastornos causados por un proyecto de redesarrollo o abandono del mismo generalmente no son tan graves como en los tiempos de catástrofe.

El caso de Grand Forks, en Dakota del Norte, es uno de los mejores ejemplos de planificación y administración integral de la recuperación, tanto de lugares como de personas. Después de la inundación de 1997, la ciudad trabajó junto con socios federales y estatales y con el sector privado con el fin de adquirir terrenos e instalar infraestructura y servicios para un nuevo barrio residencial que se construiría en tierras más altas, y los propietarios de las viviendas sujetas a compra tuvieron la prioridad de reubicarse en dicho barrio. Esto ayudó a mantener a los residentes dentro de la comunidad y estabilizar los precios de las viviendas. Grand Forks también se asoció a su municipio vecino, East Grand Forks, en Minnesota, así como también a agencias federales y estatales, para agregar más de 890 hectáreas de suelo que se obtuvieron mediante la compra de viviendas y los proyectos de protección de diques. La posterior construcción de áreas verdes permanentes a lo largo del río Rojo ha posibilitado un cambio a mejor en los centros administrativos y económicos de ambas ciudades. Sin embargo, debo enfatizar que esta transformación de ninguna manera fue fácil: llevó más de 10 años lograrla, y requirió un liderazgo, una colaboración y un apoyo sostenidos.

LL: Laurie y Rob, el Instituto Lincoln ha estado preocupado durante algunos años por dos fuerzas a nivel mundial: el cambio climático y la urbanización. ¿Es probable que los acontecimientos climáticos y los desarrollos urbanos en lugares de riesgo aumenten la exposición a las catástrofes? ¿Estamos preparados para enfrentar esto?

RO: Las catástrofes, particularmente las que se dan en las áreas costeras, actualmente representan un problema internacional importante, independientemente de estas dos fuerzas impulsoras. Es un problema actual, no futuro. Muchas de las ciudades más pobladas en todo el mundo son puertos en deltas fluviales o estuarios, y muchos sectores de estas ciudades se encuentran por debajo del nivel del mar. Además, muchas personas viven en islas barrera costeras. Estas zonas costeras son azotadas por grandes tormentas varias veces en un siglo. Después de cada una de estas tormentas, aprendemos importantes lecciones que luego olvidamos rápidamente. Mientras tanto, las ciudades de todo el mundo están creciendo (tanto en población como en una mayor urbanización), lo que empeora el problema, ya que muchas más personas están expuestas, gran parte del crecimiento urbano se da en las zonas más bajas y, en muchas ciudades, la construcción rápida y densa es de baja calidad. Aunque el cambio climático exacerba toda esta situación, permítanme utilizar el cambio climático como un signo de exclamación que cierra este argumento, en lugar de abrirlo. Así que mi respuesta es no: la mayoría de los lugares no están preparados adecuadamente, ni para las tormentas que experimentamos actualmente ni para la creciente cantidad de marejadas ciclónicas costeras que se esperan en el futuro.

LL: Ustedes han concluido recientemente un importante proyecto de investigación para el Instituto Lincoln, partiendo de casos de estudio relacionados con la recuperación ante catástrofes en seis países. ¿Podrían comentarnos algo acerca de estos casos y la razón por la que los seleccionaron?

RO: Nos enfocamos en las medidas de recuperación implementadas en China, India, Indonesia, Japón, Nueva Zelanda y los Estados Unidos. El punto que tienen en común estos casos es que se trató de catástrofes de grandes proporciones que afectaron gravemente las áreas urbanas, y todos ellos ofrecen lecciones que resultan relevantes para otros países, particularmente los Estados Unidos. Con excepción de China, todos los países con los que trabajamos poseen instituciones democráticas, en las que participan una gran variedad de organizaciones gubernamentales y no gubernamentales para llevar a cabo la recuperación. Mi interés particular tenía que ver con los casos de reubicación, que siempre son difíciles de lograr en sociedades democráticas. Elegimos el terremoto de 2001 en Gujarat, India, debido al proceso de readjuste de suelo que llevaron a cabo y la cantidad de daños que provocó en las áreas rurales, a una escala similar a la de la zona central de los Estados Unidos. India es también un caso interesante porque sus antecedentes de catástrofes ilustran un proceso de aprendizaje en cuanto a las políticas, en un país de grandes proporciones sujeto al riesgo de catástrofes. Indonesia es interesante por la misma razón: probablemente es el mejor ejemplo de una evolución rápida de las políticas y la práctica como resultado del aprendizaje obtenido de muchísimas catástrofes. Además, el terremoto y el tsunami ocurridos en 2004 en Banda Aceh, en medio de un conflicto armado, es una de las mayores catástrofes sufridas en la historia moderna. Al momento de ocurrir esta catástrofe, decidimos investigar el tsunami en el océano Índico, ya que nos proporcionaba una oportunidad para observar cómo se llevaban a cabo medidas de recuperación en varios países simultáneamente. En China, nos atrajo la gran escala del terremoto ocurrido en 2008 en la provincia de Sichuan y su relación con los procesos continuos de urbanización y cambios en el uso del suelo.

LJ: Tanto Rob como yo ya habíamos escrito numerosos trabajos sobre la planificación de la recuperación ante catástrofes de muchas ciudades de los Estados Unidos y Japón. Por lo tanto, para este nuevo libro, decidimos adoptar un punto de vista más amplio de los enfoques de ambos países acerca de la gestión de la recuperación. Con respecto a los Estados Unidos, abordamos la evolución de las políticas de recuperación posteriores a los ataques al World Trade Center, al huracán Katrina y al huracán Sandy; todos estos casos involucraban una considerable cantidad de fondos federales y la centralización de las autoridades federales y estatales. En el caso de Japón, consideramos brevemente la reconstrucción de Tokio después del terremoto y el incendio que devastaron la ciudad en 1923, los cuales marcaron a fuego tanto la filosofía como las políticas de gestión de catástrofes del país. Analizamos, además, de qué manera esta experiencia influyó en el enfoque adoptado por el gobierno para financiar y gestionar la recuperación posterior al terremoto de 1995 y al terremoto y el tsunami de 2011.

En nuestro libro también revisamos la recuperación ante catástrofes adoptada en Christchurch, Nueva Zelanda, a raíz de la devastadora serie de terremotos ocurridos entre 2010 y 2011, que causaron una continua y generalizada licuación del suelo, desprendimientos de rocas y hundimiento del suelo. Al investigar acerca de este caso de estudio, recordé cuál había sido mi primera pasión profesional: encontrar distintos enfoques en la planificación del uso del suelo en áreas geológicamente peligrosas. El gobierno de Nueva Zelanda ha adoptado un liderazgo muy activo en la recuperación, lo que convierte a este país en un muy buen caso de estudio para compararlo con otros enfoques nacionales que describimos en el libro.

LL: Teniendo en cuenta estos casos de estudio, ¿cuáles son los aspectos clave que pueden mejorar los planificadores y gestores de políticas con el fin de prepararse para la recuperación después de una catástrofe?

RO: En cada uno de estos casos, los gobiernos enfrentaron una gran incertidumbre y tuvieron que equilibrar las tensiones entre restaurar rápidamente lo que ya existía y realizar mejoras de forma deliberada. Los planificadores y gestores de políticas deben reducir dicha incertidumbre mediante la búsqueda de diferentes formas de financiamiento, la elaboración de procedimientos claros, la simplificación de procesos burocráticos, la divulgación de información al público y la participación de todas las partes interesadas, con el fin de brindar fundamentos para tomar buenas decisiones y diseñar buenas políticas. En el libro proporcionamos varias recomendaciones que reflejan ciertos principios en común: prioridad de la información, participación de las partes interesadas y transparencia.

LJ: La recuperación después de una catástrofe de grandes proporciones siempre es compleja y nunca es lo suficientemente rápida para los residentes afectados. Sin embargo, este proceso puede mejorarse estableciendo expectativas realistas desde el principio de una catástrofe y trabajando para restaurar las comunidades y sus economías de manera rápida y equitativa, mediante la convocatoria de todas las partes interesadas (residentes, comerciantes, propietarios, aseguradoras, empresas de servicios públicos, etc.) para que participen en el proceso. De esta manera, los gobiernos pueden resolver los problemas preexistentes, garantizar la gobernabilidad de la recuperación a largo plazo y reducir el riesgo de futuras catástrofes.

RO: No obstante, antes que pretender una recuperación inteligente, deberíamos pensar de antemano las estrategias para gestionar futuras catástrofes. Esta es una buena manera de mejorar la resiliencia comunitaria: la capacidad de sobrevivir, adaptarse y recuperarse de acontecimientos extremos.

Fotografía: Ikuo Kobayashi

50 Years of Disaster Recovery Planning

Laurie Johnson is an internationally recognized urban planner who specializes in disaster recovery and catastrophe risk management. She is a visiting project scientist at the Pacific Earthquake Engineering Research Center at the University of California-Berkeley, chairs the U.S. National Advisory Committee for Earthquake Hazards Reduction, and serves on the steering committee of the Geotechnical Extreme Event Reconnaissance organization.

Robert Olshansky is professor and head of the Department of Urban and Regional Planning at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. His teaching and research cover land use and environmental planning, with an emphasis on planning for natural hazards. He has published extensively on post-disaster recovery planning, planning and policy for earthquake risks, hillside planning and landslide policy, and environmental impact assessment.

Over the years, Laurie and Rob have coauthored several publications, including Opportunity in Chaos: Rebuilding After the 1994 Northridge and 1995 Kobe Earthquakes and Clear as Mud: Planning for the Rebuilding of New Orleans. In this article, they discuss their collaboration and their work on a forthcoming Lincoln Institute book and Policy Focus Report, After Great Disasters: How Six Countries Managed Community Recovery.

LAND LINES: Together, the two of you have more than 50 years of experience working in the field of disaster recovery planning. What led each of you into this specialty?

Robert Olshansky: I have always been interested in the urban planning aspects of disasters—how to design cities to coexist with these forces, how to be more strategic and pragmatic in creating policies to reduce risks, and how to respond appropriately to natural events when they occur. But up until the mid-1990s, my focus was always on pre-disaster planning and policy.

All that changed after the twin January 17 earthquakes, in 1994 in Northridge, California, and in 1995 in Kobe, Japan. I was closely observing the recovery process in Los Angeles, when, on the first anniversary of the Northridge disaster, the Kobe earthquake provided a glimpse of what a truly large event could do to a modern urban area. A month later, I ran into Laurie Johnson at a conference, where we discovered common interests in learning from these two events, and my path was set.

I soon realized that recovery is, paradoxically, the most effective path for long-term hazard mitigation, because disasters increase awareness of natural forces and bring resources to bear on the problem. I also discovered that disasters provide planners with unusual opportunities for urban betterment. Conversely, if we are not prepared for these opportunities, we might find ourselves stuck with our new mistakes for years. As a planner, I see recovery as one of our profession’s greatest challenges. It encompasses all the multidisciplinary complexities of our field, and provides some of our greatest opportunities to right past wrongs. But the process transpires in a compressed time frame amid considerable tensions and frustration, which makes it particularly hard to manage. Each new recovery situation is a multifaceted case study of its own.

Laurie Johnson: Before Rob and I began collaborating, I studied geophysics and then urban planning. Shortly after graduation in 1988, I moved to the San Francisco Bay Area to work for William Spangle and George Mader, pioneers in land use planning for geologically hazardous areas. When the Loma Prieta earthquake struck in 1989, we became more actively engaged with Bay Area cities on post-disaster recovery and rebuilding issues.

With support from the National Science Foundation, we hosted one of the first-of-its-kind conferences on rebuilding after earthquakes, at Stanford University in 1990. Planners from cities prone to earthquakes across the United States came to learn from planners who led rebuilding efforts following some of the world’s major urban earthquakes, in Skopje, Macedonia (then Yugoslavia, 1963); Managua, Nicaragua (1972); Friuli, Italy (1976); El Asnam, Algeria (1980); Mexico City (1985); and Armenia (1988). It was in those years that I became interested in rebuilding communities—and particularly in enhancing local government capacity to manage and lead post-disaster recovery.

LL: Laurie, you have a doctorate degree in informatics from Kyoto University. Why did you decide to go there to study?

LJ: I had tried to start work on a doctorate a couple of times earlier in my career, but in 2006 the stars finally aligned when Professor Haruo Hayashi invited me to join his disaster research center at Kyoto University. I was delayed again when I went to work on the post-Katrina recovery plan in 2006–2007. But it turned out that the New Orleans recovery experience offered an opportunity for a richer exchange with Japanese colleagues who had been deeply involved in Kobe’s recovery. I initially hoped to compare the U.S. and Japanese approaches to large-scale disaster recovery management for my dissertation, but eventually settled on doing a comparative analysis of recovery management in three U.S. cities: Grand Forks, North Dakota; Los Angeles, California; and New Orleans, Louisiana. I really valued the opportunity to reflect on the U.S. approaches with my Japanese colleagues, who, coming from a different governance system, helped me to see many elements of conflicting policy and gaps that I may not have appreciated otherwise.

LL: Rob, after Hurricane Katrina, you and Timothy Green conducted research for the Lincoln Institute on the Road Home Program, which dispensed more than $8 billion to New Orleans home owners to either repair their homes or sell them to the state. You found that residents in the worst-flooded areas were most likely to move away (see Green and Olshansky, “Homeowner Decisions, Land Banking, and Land Use Change in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina,” 2009). Do you know if that pattern, which suggests a very rational response to risk, has held up over time?

RO: We did find that flood depth was the variable most correlated with the decision to sell and move. Home value, income, race, and years of occupancy were not significant factors, at least at the scale of our data. This is a positive finding in terms of flood policy, and it is certainly better than finding that flood depth had no effect at all on home owner behavior. But whether actual reconstruction patterns have changed is unclear, because the data are simply not available. Visually, however, the parts of the city with the least rebuilding are generally at the lowest elevations, where the most damage occurred. So, yes, this does appear to reflect a rational response to flood risk.

But the reasons for that response may vary among different income groups. I suspect that many low-lying lots in the wealthier areas were subsequently acquired by buyers who built homes on them, whereas many lower-income owners who intended to rebuild were not financially able to do so. So the assertion that most people behaved “rationally” in the face of flood risk needs to be seen in a broader context. Furthermore, although flood depth was positively correlated with the decision to sell, the majority of home owners in the most flooded parts of the city—52 to 79 percent, depending on location—still opted to stay and rebuild.

LL: What are the challenges faced by buyout programs like the Road Home Program and other relocation strategies aimed at avoiding repeated catastrophic losses?

LJ: In the United States, the practice of post-disaster floodplain buyouts is fairly well established. Voluntary buyout programs typically target single-family homes that are more than 50 percent damaged by flood or within the Federal Emergency Management Agency’s 100-year flood zone. But federal post-disaster funding streams, like FEMA’s hazard mitigation grant program, also require that the buyout areas remain as open space or have some other nonoccupied use. Thus, if flooded communities have few available houses or infill opportunities, both rental and for-sale housing prices in the area may rise sharply and residents may decide to move away, creating a drag on local economies.

By their very nature, large disasters disrupt the physical, social, economic, and institutional systems of the communities affected. A major buyout program can create another wave of disruption that ripples through all these systems if it’s not designed and managed properly. In normal times, these systems are not as stressed or tightly coupled, so the disruption caused by a land redevelopment or retreat project is typically not as acute as in post-disaster times.

Grand Forks, North Dakota, provides one of the better examples of comprehensive recovery planning and stewardship of both people and place. After the 1997 flood, the city worked with federal and state partners and the private sector to acquire land and install infrastructure and services for a new residential neighborhood on higher ground, and they gave priority to the buyout property owners to relocate there. This helped to keep residents in the community and stabilize housing prices. Grand Forks also partnered with its neighbor, East Grand Forks, Minnesota, as well as federal and state agencies, to aggregate more than 2,200 acres of land obtained through the buyouts and levee protection projects. Subsequent construction of a permanent greenway along the Red River has helped change the downtowns of both cities and their economies for the better. But I should emphasize that this transformation was by no means easy. It took over a decade to accomplish, requiring sustained leadership, collaboration, and support.

LL: Laurie and Rob, the Lincoln Institute has been concerned for some years with two global forces: climate change and urbanization. Are climate events and urban development in hazardous locations likely to increase exposure to disasters? Are we prepared to deal with this?

RO: Disasters, particularly in coastal areas, are a significant international problem right now, regardless of these driving forces. This is a present-day problem, not a future problem. Many of the world’s most populated cities are ports on river deltas or estuaries, and many parts of these cities are below sea level. Many people also live on coastal barrier islands. Large storms strike each of these coastal areas several times each century, and after each storm we learn important lessons that we quickly forget. Meanwhile, cities worldwide are growing through both population growth and increasing urbanization. This makes the problem worse because more people are exposed, much of the urban growth occurs in the lowest places, and rapid, dense construction in many cities is of low quality. Although climate change exacerbates all of this, I would use climate change as the exclamation point to this argument rather than its starting point. So no, most places are not well prepared for either present-day storms or for the elevated number of coastal storm surges expected in the future.

LL: The two of you have just finished work on a major research project for Lincoln based on case studies of disaster recovery in six countries. Tell us about the cases you selected and why you chose them.

RO: We focused on recovery efforts in China, India, Indonesia, Japan, New Zealand, and the United States. The common thread is that these were extremely large disasters that severely affected urban areas, and they offer lessons that are relevant for other countries, particularly the United States. With the exception of China, the countries we focused on have democratic institutions, in which a variety of governmental and nongovernmental organizations participate in carrying out recovery. I was especially interested in cases of relocation, which are always difficult to accomplish in democratic societies. We chose the 2001 Gujarat earthquake in India both because of the land readjustment process and because of the widespread damage in rural areas similar in scale to the central United States. India is also of interest because its history of disasters illustrates a process of policy learning over time in a large and hazard-prone country. Indonesia is of interest for the same reason—it is probably the best example of rapid evolution of policy and practice as a result of learning from multiple disasters. In addition, the 2004 earthquake and tsunami in Banda Aceh, occurring in the midst of armed conflict, is one of the greatest disasters in modern history. At the time it occurred, we decided to investigate the Indian Ocean tsunami, because it provided an opportunity to view recovery efforts taking place simultaneously in several countries. In China, we were drawn to the immense scale of the 2008 earthquake in Sichuan Province and its relationship to ongoing processes of urbanization and land use change.

LJ: Rob and I had already written extensively about post-disaster recovery planning in many U.S. and Japanese cities. So, for this book, we decided to take a longer view of both countries’ approaches to recovery management. In the United States, we look at the evolution of recovery policy following the World Trade Center attacks, Hurricane Katrina, and Hurricane Sandy—all of which involved considerable federal funding and a centralization of federal and state authority. For Japan, we look briefly at the rebuilding of Tokyo after the devastating earthquake and fire of 1923, which made an indelible mark on the country’s disaster management philosophy and policy, and how that experience influenced the government’s approach to funding and managing recovery from the 1995 earthquake and the 2011 earthquake and tsunami.

Our book also includes a look at disaster recovery in Christchurch, New Zealand, following the devastating sequence of earthquakes in 2010–2011 that caused repeated and widespread liquefaction, rockfalls, and ground subsidence. Researching this case study brought me back to my original professional passion: land use planning approaches in geologically hazardous areas. New Zealand’s government has taken a very active leadership role in the recovery, which provides a very good case for comparison with other national approaches that we describe.

LL: Drawing on these case studies, what are some of the key things planners and policy makers can do to better prepare for recovery after disaster strikes?

RO: In each of the cases, governments faced considerable uncertainty and had to balance the tensions between quickly restoring what was there before and deliberately creating betterment. Planners and policy makers need to reduce this uncertainty by finding funds, establishing clear procedures, streamlining bureaucratic processes, providing public information, and involving all stakeholders so that they can help inform good decision making and policy design. We provide several recommendations in the book that reflect a common set of principles: primacy of information, stakeholder involvement, and transparency.

LJ: Recovery after a major disaster is always complex and never fast enough for affected residents. However, the process can be improved by setting realistic expectations at the outset and by working to restore communities and economies quickly and equitably, empowering the full range of stakeholders—residents, businesses, land owners, insurers, utilities, and others—to participate in the process. In this way, governments can resolve preexisting problems, ensure governance for recovery over the long term, and reduce the risk of future disasters.

RO: Even better than smart recovery, however, is thinking ahead about strategies to manage future disasters. This is a good way to improve community resilience—the ability to survive, adapt, and recover from extreme events.

Photograph: Ikuo Kobayashi