After years
of aversion therapy, I don’t readily accept the word “environmentalist” being applied
to me. Instead, my immediate reaction is
disavowal, followed only slowly by grudging and partial acknowledgment. But I nonetheless bristle when, as happens too
often, someone tries to exclude urbanism from environmentalism. I know my two positions are inconsistent, but
after 62 years of living, I think I’ve earned the right to an occasional
inconsistency. Let me explain more
fully.
When the
first Earth Day parade passed by, I was standing on the first tee of the local
golf course, waiting until the marchers finished crossing the fairway before
hitting the opening shot of my match. I
felt no compulsion to join the marchers.
My attention was given solely to tinkering with my swing to keep my
opening drive out of the rough.
During the
latter stages of my college career, I arranged for professional engineers to
speak to Tuesday evening gatherings of engineering students about the practice
of engineering. My fellow students and I
heard an extended litany of complaints about trying to meet budgets and
schedules while complying with the environmental regulations then newly blossoming.
About the
same time, my engineer father complained over the dinner table about a judge assessing
damages against Caltrans for not upgrading a state highway to meet current
safety standards while another judge was, at the same time, delaying the start
of the safety work due to inadequate environmental compliance.
With those
experiences from my formative years, I don’t care if I’m ever called an
environmentalist. And I doubt I’d be
alone within my generation in having that engrained feeling. For long years, environmentalist had too many
negative connotations within my educational settings and workplaces for my cohorts
or me to casually accept being called environmentalists.
But I’m
nonetheless eager to call myself an urbanist and to simultaneously argue with
those, and there are many, who would distinguish between urbanism and
environmentalism. Indeed, I would argue
that urbanism is a form of environmentalism that is superior to what many who
eagerly call themselves environmentalists have adopted.
Let me paint
the big picture and then describe a couple of situations where a false and
unhelpful dichotomy is presumed between urbanism and environmentalism.
Environmentalism
can include a great many aspects. Not
all of those aspects are addressed by urbanism, but a surprising number
are. Concerned about protection of
forests? Urbanism with its smaller homes
and frequent shared walls addresses that concern through reduced need for
building materials. Perhaps water
conservation, especially during the drought, is worrisome to you? Urban dwellers, in part due to the absence of
lawns, use less water.
Perhaps
preservation of green space or agriculture land matters to you? Urbanism, with its walkable paradigm, reduces
urban sprawl. Or maybe you think that hazmat
cleanup needs more attention? Urbanism,
with its frequent use of brownfield sites meets that need. Or perhaps your focus is on the biggest environmental
challenge of all, climate change?
Urbanism, with its reduced energy demands for both buildings and
transportation, is among the best strategies.
The
connection between urbanism and environmentalism is unassailable. But it often gets overlooked anyway. Let me describe a couple of recent examples.
A recent
article in Politico Magazine lauds passive homes and their ability to
change the world. The first homes described
by the author are in an apartment building overlooking a commuter train station
in Portland.
I love
passive homes and their exceedingly low energy usage. I’d support a carbon tax such that passive
homes attain the marketplace position they deserve. But most summaries of energy demand assign perhaps
30 percent of total national energy usage to buildings and 45 percent to
transportation. It’s possible that the location
of the apartments within a transit-oriented development is just as important for
energy conservation as the passive design of the apartments. But that element of the apartments isn’t lauded. Indeed, it’s never mentioned again.
Even worse,
the article goes on to describe a string of passive homes built on a
cul-de-sac. I don’t know the cul-de-sac
location, but unless the homes are without garages or street parking and there
is a bus stop at the outlet from the cul-de-sac, it’s possible that a non-passive
apartment in a well-designed transit-oriented development will have as much energy
saving potential as one of the passive homes on the cul-de-sac.
Once again,
I’m not demeaning the passive home concept.
I agree with the article that passive apartment in transit accessible
locations can change the world. But that
world-changing potential is equal parts passive architectural design and good
urbanism. And that latter part of the story
is being neglected, which undermines urbanists everywhere.
Closer to home,
I attend a monthly gathering of self-described environmentalists. To their credit, they allow me to participate
so they, at least to some extent, accept urbanism as environmentalism.
But I was
disheartened by a conversation at the most recent meeting. A financial planner, who focuses on
environmentally-friendly portfolios, mentioned that he recommends CVS, the
large drugstore chain. His reasoning,
which he gained from industry publications on eco-friendly investing, was based
on CVS ending the sale of tobacco products and carefully managing their waste
stream.
Both
policies are appropriate and I’m pleased that both have been implemented. But I’m also certain that the environment was
better served when we had neighborhood drug stores that could be easily
accessed by pedestrians, bicyclists, and transit users. Calling a chain that forced those little
drugstores out of business by specializing in enormous stores behind over-sized
parking lots as environmentally-friendly verges on absurd.
I’m not
saying that CVS management is filled with bad guys. They saw the dominance of the drivable
suburban paradigm, structured a business plan around serving people in cars,
and made money, lots of money. Which
makes them good business people. But if
they don’t deserve black hats, neither do they deserve white hats. And the only way we fail to grasp that point
is if we fail to account for the environmental benefits of a more urban world.
Urbanism is
environmentalism, a point that we disregard at our environmental peril.
Call me an
environmentalist and I’ll growl softly in uneasy acquiescence. Try to tell me that the urbanism I espouse
isn’t environmentalism and I’ll chew your leg off. Long live inconsistency.
Having
broken the seal on the subject of urbanism vis-à-vis environmentalism, with my
next post I’ll continue with another couple of stories in this vein.
As always,
your questions or comments will be appreciated.
Please comment below or email me.
And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)
Interesting article. I live with a certain amount of ongoing cognitive dissonance around urbanism, environmentalism and child-rearing. As a kid I grew up at the end of a dirt road and spent every weekend running around in the woods. It made my life (in a chaotic, alcoholic household) not just bearable, but good. More and more studies are showing that kids' mental health requires direct contact with clean (not littered or polluted) unpaved outdoor habitat. In other words, young primates need to spend time in nature in order to develop properly.
ReplyDeleteAs an adult I love living in a small city (Santa Cruz, CA) where I can ride my bike or walk to most of my daily errands and leisure activities. But when I had kids I realized they were not being served by living in town. The neighborhood park didn't cut it. There has been a withdrawal of children from urban outdoor spaces in favor of organized after-school activities and indoor video-gaming time. Despite my best efforts, my kids fit right into this pattern. They had no interest in going outside to play. Even when we went for weekend hikes they were totally checked out and spent the whole time talking about video games. For a variety of reasons I ended up homeschooling them, which allowed me to send them to an (expensive) once-per-week outdoor school that I drove them to. A long, gas-guzzling drive. But it worked...they developed awareness of and interest in the natural world, hand-eye skills...all things that I consider essential for any functioning adult. Things that I developed on my own, just by living in the country and spending time outside.
The reality is, life is imperfect. We all do the best we can. But it's very hard to know what is the best way to live your life when children need to grow up in the country to be mentally healthy, and adults need to live in the city to be environmentally healthy. Ironically the most popular option, the suburban ranch-style house, serves nobody well.
Raoena, thanks for the comments. I love Santa Cruz. (Parents-in-law in a Watsonville senior living home and sister-in-law in Aptos.)
DeleteYou pose a good question for which there isn't a good answer. I have two models I suggest, but neither is perfect. (1) A town with a well-defined urban limit and a bus system that easily delivers youths to urban fringe amenities, whether a complex of ballfields or a natural park with room to roam. (2) A beloved family cabin in the woods that can be reached on regular weekends by train and foot.
Of course, we rarely provide either option.