Which poses
the question for North Bay readers, is urbanism legal in the North Bay?
The answer
seems obvious. We occupy one of the more
progressive corners of one of the more progressive regions of one of the most
progressive states in the union. How
could urbanism not be legal?
Except that it
might not be quite that easy.
Because I
live in Petaluma, I’ll write about that city’s regulatory approach to urbanism.
To my knowledge, most North Bay cities
have regulatory approaches to urbanism that are similar. But I encourage others to comment below on
their own cities.
The key
element of urbanism in Petaluma is the Central Petaluma Specific Plan (CPSP). The CPSP and its accompanying form-based SmartCode
set the land-use rules for a 400-acre area in the heart of the city. The land-use approach is formulated around
urbanist concepts. However, the total area
of Petaluma is over 9,000 acres, so the area in which urbanism is strongly
encouraged is less than five percent.
Yes, it’s five percent that is centrally located with the city, but five
percent remains a small amount.
Outside of
the CPSP, urbanist projects can certainly be proposed, but the path to
entitlement would be difficult. As a
thought exercise, consider a small urbanist project, perhaps a moderately-sized
two-story structure with a small neighborhood grocery downstairs, a pair of
apartments upstairs, and no parking lot.
And let’s put it on a residentially-zoned corner lot where it would be surrounded
by the single-family homes that it would serve.
Now, name a
neighborhood in Petaluma in which that structure could be proposed without
raising strong neighborhood opposition.
Personally, I’d love to have the building in my neighborhood, even on the
corner lot next door to mine, but suspect that I’m atypical.
Even if the
neighborhood could be mollified, the City would likely deem the project so
inconsistent with the zoning code that an application couldn’t be submitted. Even a passel of variance applications wouldn’t
be enough. The project would probably
require a text amendment to modify the zoning code before it could
proceed. So in 95 percent of the city,
the hypothetical project is currently illegal.
But at least
we have the five percent in the CPSP, right?
Well, sort of.
Like all
California land use, the CPSP is subject to the environmental standards of the
California Environmental Quality Act (CEQA).
And CEQA, not surprisingly given its roots in the 1970s, was written as
if drivable suburban was the only expected land use.
The CEQA
process requires assessing the environmental impacts in various areas and
proposing mitigations if the impacts exceed acceptable thresholds. Which seems a reasonable approach. But what if a project achieves significant positive
environmental impacts, such as the reduction of greenhouse gases, while failing
another standard, such as traffic? There
are few provisions in CEQA for weighing positive versus negative environmental
impacts. But those kinds of trade-offs
are often what urbanism is about.
Also, CEQA
measures the expected impacts on the day the land use is completed. But urbanism is about creating a setting in
which impacts such as traffic can be reduced over time as further urbanist projects
are added to the mix. CEQA isn’t written
to measure that possibility.
CEQA doesn’t
bar urbanism. Indeed, the CPSP plan has
already been subject to CEQA review and approval. But CEQA forces urbanism to pass through a
sieve that was constructed with sprawl in mind, altering the concept of
urbanism in myriad ways.
Nor is CEQA
the only set of land-use rules that were written with drivable suburbia in
mind. Impact fees, the charges that cities
collect to cover the cost of providing infrastructure to new development, have
a strong suburban cast.
Let’s
consider that an urban developer has 3,000 square feet of space that can be
used for residences. He could create
either a single 3,000 square-foot super-apartment or three 1,000 square-foot regular-sized
apartments.
There is
room for reasonable debate of the relative infrastructure impacts of the two
options. The three smaller apartments
would likely use more water and more road miles than the larger apartment. But they’re not likely to use three times as
much of either.
And to the
extent that the smaller apartments lead to a critical mass that supports a
walkable neighborhood, it’s even possible that the road miles of the smaller
apartments wouldn’t be much larger than those of the larger apartment.
However,
there is no debate on the city impact fee chart. The three smaller apartments are each charged
the same impact fee as the single larger apartment. The financial motivation to the developer is
for the larger apartment, which is the anti-urban direction.
Impact fees
join CEQA, even in the CPSP, in a strong lean toward drivable suburban
development.
So, if
Petaluma can be used as an example, is urbanism legal in the North Bay? Yes, it is.
But it’s not nearly as legal as sprawl.
Which is unfortunate. It’s also a
large part of the reason this blog exists.
As always,
your questions or comments will be appreciated.
Please comment below or email me.
And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)
* - Usage
note: Regular readers know that I prefer not to use the term “smart growth”,
but instead use “urbanism”. Both refer
to the same type of development. But I
believe that describing one’s position as “smart” comes across as condescending. It’s also a poor way to begin an attempt to
convince others of the failings of sprawl.
The authors
of “The Smart Growth Manual” express the same concern about the term “smart
growth” in their introduction. However,
they judge that the battle between “urbanism” and “smart growth” has been lost,
so they surrender and use the latter. I
haven’t yet surrendered, so always use “urbanism” except when I quote others.
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